My Life as a Video Pornographer Ch. 04

He shifted his body in front of my face, both hands on the back of my head and he leaned over me, his cock pushing into my mouth. "Take it. Take it as deep into your mouth and throat as you can, you little slut. You're a little slut, aren't you?"

I opened my mouth to answer and he shoved his cock in, holding my head level to open my throat. I panicked at the abrupt intrusion and tried to pull away. He held my head steady, anticipating my reaction and slowly leaned over me to align his erection with my throat. I tried to protest, but my words were garbled by his thick shaft on my tongue.

"Shhh....you're a cum slut, Julie. You're an exhibitionist whore. You've been begging for this for a week. Admit it. Show the world how much you're willing to do to get a hard cock down your throat. We'll take it slowly -- it's the way your viewers would want it anyway. A nice slow throat fuck...a little appetizer for what's going to cum next."

I was on the brink: I could have pushed my hands against the mattress and twisted my head away but I was caught by surprise and...curiosity. I hadn't consciously admitted it to myself, but since my first blow job last week, I had wondered what it would be like to deep throat him. I just didn't want to be forced this way. My hesitation gave him a chance to reposition his hands and feet. With him bearing into me and his hands holding me more firmly, I couldn't escape without calling the whole thing off. He continued to push against the back of my mouth. I wasn't sure I could take him in and started to gag, but I still didn't pull away. I held as steady as I could -- a rabbit caught in the fox's jaw. His stomach reached over me, the head of his cock entered my throat.

"Breathe around it, Julie. You won't choke if you breathe. You're a virgin, aren't you?" He paused and nodded my head for me with his hands. "You're a virgin in your sweet throat and in your pretty little cunt, right?" I felt my head nodding again, the word stinging my ears. He continued to push slowly into me. "That's it, breathe deeply, deep yoga breaths. Focus on breathing as I fuck your throat. Don't worry about drooling. Let me go all the way into you."

I gagged, a belching sound coming up from my stomach, but he didn't stop. He was past the top of my throat, and with it came a cramping in my stomach. I concentrated on breathing, trying to take him in without thinking about how he had violated me and how I was getting so turned on by it. I felt like I could blame him, like I hadn't had a choice, but I knew I had a choice, from the moment I made the call this afternoon, to the moment I agreed to spread my legs for the camera. The image of his violating me pulsed through me.

His voice was softer now, my ears blocked a little by his body. I watched the base of his shaft slowly disappearing into my lips, his wispy pubes beginning to tickle my nose. I held as still as I could, a fuck toy on video. My pussy contracted at the thought of the video and what I must look like. I could feel it spasm as I imagined the light shining off my lips.

He was all the way in when he let go of my head, moving his hands back to my ass cheeks. I felt my legs spreading slightly, his fingers opening my pussy lips exposing my wet channel to the camera. I moaned around his shaft. I jerked when he flicked my clit, forcing me farther onto his cock and forcing a gag from me. The heat had become almost unbearable, sweat dripping down the sides of my breasts tickling my nipples.

"Okay, baby," he said, a strain to his voice. I could barely hear him. "Where do you want it?"

He slowly backed out of me, uncurling from my back and resting onto his knees, his cock head popping from my lips. I looked up at him, anger mixed with confusion as I choked and gagged and coughed. I couldn't believe what he'd just done. I was so pissed. Even today, as I watch the video I feel the burn mixed with an arousal so primal I can't deny it. He leaned away from me, reaching for something in the night-stand drawer. His cock wavered in front of me, standing straight up from the top of his legs. I licked my lips, the salty taste of him hanging on my tongue. I was about to let into him when I saw what he was holding.

He pulled a small handy-cam in front of his face, pointing it down at me.

"The money shot. It's time for the money shot, Julie. Pretend you are a teenage cum slut. Oh. Wait. You don't have to pretend, do you?" One hand curled under my chin, keeping my face looking forward into his shaft. His purple head was almost resting on my nose, my eyes crossed to look at it. "Where do you want it? It's time to tell the boys at home where you want it."

The situation was completely out of control. On the one hand I was so angry I was ready to bite him; on the other I was so high I could only think of having his cock back in me, anywhere. My body was screaming for release. "In my cunt, Tim. I need your cum in my cunt!" I hated hearing the word; I sort of lost it for a second wondering who had spoken, but when I realized it was my voice saying it, my cunt contracted, dribbling juices onto my lips.

He laughed and pulled back just a little. "Yes, you sweet bitch. You'll have it in your cunt soon enough. But not yet. Not by a long shot. This is the proverbial money shot, Julie. Tell the boys watching what they want to hear. Tell them you want me to cum all over that pretty face of yours."

I opened my mouth in shock, but with his hand holding my chin still, the movement forced my neck to bend up. I looked up at his face and saw him smiling from behind the camera. My anger at his violation, at his taunting me, at his humiliating me suddenly blossomed out across my face as a red blush. I could feel the blood rushing up my cheeks and down my neck. Before I had seen the camera pointing at me, I wanted nothing more than to reach up and claw at him, but seeing the reflection of the light on the lens, I pictured how I must look: spread open for one camera, my face open to receive his sperm caught by another camera, and the anger transformed into an intense arousal. "Please, Tim. Don't..." What had started as an angry outburst seeped out as a weak protest. It was at that moment I felt defeated. My plans to learn everything destroyed by his complete dominance over me. I saw myself performing for the camera, wanting him to do it, letting the scene carry me away. "Please..."

"That's it, little slut. You're a teenage cum slut. You're begging to have me cover your face with my hot cum. Ask me to do it."

He didn't move, his cock pulsing in front of me and I let go of the last shred of pretense of being in control, imagining thousands of hands stroking pricks from now into the future, like a hall of mirrors. "Please, Tim. I get it. I am a cum slut. Cum all over my face, give it to me. I want to feel your hot cum on me!"

"You'll have to work harder than that," he said cryptically. "Don't beg me with words. Use those slut lips for something other than talking." That small part of me still paying attention was hurt, but it was carried away by my letting go, overwhelmed by my humiliation. I suddenly saw what the camera would see: an image of me coaxing his cum out of his shaft, begging him to coat my face with it. I leaned forward, kissing his shaft, running my lips softly up and down the veins, leaning down to try and catch his sac in my mouth and then up again to kiss his head. I saw his sac constricting, the head swelling, and I knew it was close. He leaned back slightly, his load shooting all over my forehead, eyes and lips. I closed my eyes and waited until he had stopped, his cock wiping the residue on my cheeks, his hand holding my face until he was finished.

The room had seemed to get even hotter, sweat dripping off my face with his crème, every crease in my body sopping wet. I imagined how I looked with a slight sheen, and my pussy clenched again at the image of me spread open for all those boys. I no longer dreaded the thought of Tim's cock puncturing me, I spread myself wider hoping he would just do me.

I watched as he lifted himself off the bed, the hand-held camera on my face and breasts.

"Don't move. Not yet."

I held still watching him get something else from the drawer. He leaned over the bed and painted something on my fingers on the sheets and then around my knees.

"Okay. You can get up if you want to stretch. Continuity," he pointed to the faint marks left on the sheets. I was confused and disoriented. Why wasn't he going to fuck me?

He helped me up, gently pushing against my shoulders. I could see impressions of my fingers in the sheets as I curled up onto my knees.

"It makes it much easier for the next shot."

I looked at him, gingerly stretching my neck, feeling his cum dripping down my cheeks.

"No. Don't touch it. Leave it dry." He helped me up off the bed, my pussy still clamping in anticipation, my thoughts confused by this shift. I had no idea where this was leading, my head foggy from the drugs, his abrupt behavior and my arousal. "Here, take a drink. We're going to do another take."

I drank the sweet liquid, the taste of his cock replaced with the faint taste of tequila. I looked at him over the glass, waiting.

"You'll need to get me hard again; I'm going to fuck your throat, but you'll decide whether to swallow my cum or take it on your face again."

I shook my head and held up my hand. "Hold on."

He puttered around with the cameras, waiting for me to get my thoughts together.

I sipped the drink and looked around the room. The high was in full force, my mind a swirl of random thoughts. It didn't help that my skin was on fire, my pussy involuntarily clamping, asking to have his cock deep inside it. I shook my head to try and concentrate.

"I can't," my voice barely above a whisper. "I can't do that again."

He didn't insist, continuing to focus on the camera. "Come here. I want to show you what you look like."

I felt like a moth trying to fuck a bug lamp, joining him at the tripod.

"Don't deny it: you're fucking beautiful."

I looked at my body, spread open and naked to the camera's lens. My pussy glistening, the small hairs visible as thin shadows against my dark red lips, the pink interior just barely making an appearance. It was the first thing that caught my eye and it sent a rush from my heart down to my groin. But then I watched as Tim's cock penetrated my mouth, the lump of his head moving against my cheeks disappearing into my throat. The image of a young woman being violated, the attacker's hands holding her as his cock pierced her. It was so powerful I gasped.

Even though I had just been that girl, had just felt that thing deep inside me, seeing it on camera was as if it were happening to another person. Why did she let him do that? Why didn't she protest more? I wanted to know the reasons and I couldn't come up with them. I felt his cum drying on my face, my skin itching slightly as the globs traveled down my cheeks. I felt my pussy squeezing out juice and my body ached to have him do it to me again. But my head was screaming for control, to somehow get this thing back on track.

"What?" His hand drifted down the middle of my back, his fingers slowly trailing into the crack of my cheeks, spreading the drops of sweat that had collected. I shivered but didn't pull away.

"What what?" I wasn't ready to let him pull me back to the bed.

He shrugged and reached over to the dresser, opening the top drawer. Pulling out a joint, he didn't bother to ask, lighting it up and passing it to me.

It was only an hour since I'd arrived, I figured -- the room was completely closed off from the outside world, I had nothing to tell time by, and pot always made time pass so slowly. Maybe it was only 30 minutes. I felt as if it had been a lifetime, as if my life had changed the minute I walked in the room. I could feel a shift, a break from my past. This wasn't what I had imagined when I decided to come over. I had never figured he was going to fuck me on camera. I unconsciously took the joint and sucked in the smoke, realizing I was signing up for another round. I held it in, looking down at my breasts, at my bush and at his cock, shrunken and tucked against his balls. I blew out the smoke and downed most of the rest of the second drink. Dutch courage, my dad would have said. Only my dad would have been dragging me out of this room, out of his house and back to the safety of our home, not giving me alcohol to make it easier to do the things I was doing in this room.

I stood there, my heart racing from the pot, or from the situation, I was beyond caring. I looked at the door and then at the bed, my eyes glancing across the video camera screen to see Tim cumming on my face. The vision of those boys and men! stroking themselves at the scene sent another pulse through me. I could do this! He said this was for me! My first movie! Not just a movie of me, but a movie for me...for me to start my career. He had no idea I wanted to make movies -- he thought I wanted to be in them. The realization gave me a new sense of power, that tingling sensation I had felt the night before getting stronger. As angry as his violation had made me feel, I swallowed it, keeping my mind set on the original plan. I took a final toke, breathing in as much as I could as deeply as I could, as if it would launch me across whatever had changed.

"Okay," I nodded. "I think I can do it again. Let's go."

He patted me on the ass, and fiddled with the camera, moving it to a completely different angle. Motioning me over, he showed me what he hoped to get out of the shot. "We have to be careful," he said collegially, as if we were partners in this venture. "Amateur teen flicks don't usually have two camera angles. We'll have three by the time we're done with this shot, but for some sites, we can't use more than one. You'll see." He could see I wasn't getting it. I wasn't getting much, except aroused, confused by my continued arousal, and a little frightened at what was about to happen to me again.

He suggested I try and position myself back on the bed while he fiddled some more with the lights. I looked down to see a faint outline of my fingers and knees, moving my limbs to match the faint lines he had painted. I felt as if I were tying myself up in my own ropes, or imprisoning myself in my own cell. I shook the images and stuck my ass out, waiting for the inevitable.