Susie Learns the Hard Way (27 page)

The pounding between her legs took control of her and speech became irrelevant as the thick shaft pressed into her again and again until she could stand it no longer, and the robot came into her writhing body, until the spasms stopped and it remained motionless.

Susie squirmed in desperate frustration, but to no avail; it plopped softly out, leaving her empty. ‘No...' she gasped shamelessly, ‘please don't leave me so excited... Let me go so I can...' but her plea faded away as the robot, seemingly understanding her need, released the leather wrist straps, and then turned away and lumbered towards the curtains.

But Susie never saw it go. She stiffened as two fingers slid sensuously deep, her hips made a slow circle and the flat plain of her stomach quivered. ‘Aaah!' she gasped. ‘Oh yesss...' She gave one last lurch of satisfaction. ‘Yesssss...' she breathed, and was still, apart from the languid movement as her wrist circled, stirring gently.

A huge bang and a rapid staccato of white flashes shattered the peace of the afterglow. She sat bolt upright in the chair, the open-mouthed expression on her face frozen by another stuttering burst of white light. Nick the photographer crouched on one knee, low down by the door!

‘What?' she squealed in horror.

‘Are you okay?' he asked, lowering the camera.

‘I – I...' and she burst into tears.

‘You said the code,' he said urgently. ‘You said “Let me go”, so we came in. The police...' his voice faltered as he realised things were going embarrassingly wrong, ‘...will be here any minute...'

With two tugs Susie ripped the bands from around her ankles and climbed off the chair. ‘In there,' she said, gesturing at the curtains, and Nick and his assistant disappeared behind them. Quickly she turned to the dressing table, picking up her blouse. Speed was important, and she had no time for niceties. With skirt and blouse back on, she stuffed her underwear into the handbag, at least looking as if she was under control when the first of the policemen came stomping in.

‘Through there,' she said again, and as the two policemen followed Nick and his assistant, Susie turned and fled out through the front door and headed away down the road. She didn't know where she was going, but she knew she wanted to get away.

 

 

 

‘So much for total discretion!' bawled the editor as soon as she got through his office door. ‘Half the bloody building has been watching your exploits. Luckily for both of us, I managed to get this back before they had a chance to make any more copies.' He tapped the small video cassette morosely. ‘As it is there must be half a dozen kicking around by now. They had,' he said, his voice choking with emotion, ‘advance orders for almost sixty. Advance orders!'

He shook his head, and Susie hung hers, glad that the tape at least was safe.

‘But they're selling the prints of Nick's stuff for a quid each in the machine room. Can't stop them. Full colour eight by ten blow-ups of you with your hand up your skirt. Not that you were wearing a skirt. Or any other bloody thing.' He wasn't shouting, but his voice was ominously calm, which was even worse.

‘We can't even run the story. Not with those pics about. They'll all have them by now. Amazed they're not on the Net. Every fucking teenager in London will have a copy by Monday and I haven't even got a story to go with!' His temper was up again, and he was shouting once more and banging his fist on the desk. Susie flinched every time his fist landed.

‘If you weren't so bloody keen to drop your knickers at the slightest opportunity I could at least have run the story this week,' he yelled, and fear spiked in Susie's tightened stomach muscles, trickling hot and sticky in her knickers.

The editor put his head in his hands, shaking it from side to side. ‘And they were kids,' he groaned. ‘Two juvenile fucking delinquents. How did you let yourself get taken in like that?'

He seemed to be expecting an answer.

‘Well, you sent me there—' she began, but he interrupted her at once.

‘I sent you there to catch a drugs ring, not to get yourself shagged silly by two kids with a Batman outfit and a Darth Vader helmet they bought for ten quid!'

‘It was dark,' she said plaintively, and he snorted in disgust. ‘And anyway, you were the one who told me we had to investigate everything fully – you remember? At my interview?'

‘Yes, I remember. But I didn't tell you to shag anything with a hard-on. I thought you might use a bit of discretion.' He was yelling again and Susie winced, trying not to wriggle around in her chair as the juices spurred by his anger flowed from within. Tentatively she let her knees fall apart, hoping that a glimpse of her thighs might tempt him to remember her hidden treasures and be a little gentler with her.

‘What am I supposed to think? That you're too stupid to spot a con trick as cheap and simple as that one? Or that you've got permanently hot pants and you just can't say no to a quick shag no matter who from?'

She clamped her guilty legs together around the syrupy heat he seemed to have guessed at. ‘It was dark,' she repeated, ‘and the light was in my eyes.' It was true, the light had been shining in her eyes, and it had been hard for her to see very well. But it was also true that there was a fire burning in her groin which had contributed even more to her predicament. As soon as the youth asked her those questions and she answered him, talking about herself like that to a stranger, she knew she was going to get fucked by someone or something. And if she was honest, she had to admit that she'd let that come between her and the job. She'd failed.

‘I'm sorry,' she added, and she truly was.

Something in her voice seemed to strike a note with him; genuine remorse, perhaps, but whatever it was he saw that she was indeed genuinely upset at messing up the big coup.

‘Oh, get back to your desk,' he said gruffly. ‘Wait there for Harry, and then do whatever he says. And for God's sake keep your knickers on and try to learn something from him.'

Meekly she rose, and did as she was told.

Idly spinning in his chair, Harry was twiddling a small plastic box between the fingers of one hand. Susie knew what it was before he spoke.

‘Great film.' He smiled benignly.

‘How did you get hold of that?' Not that it mattered now.

‘I told you, I'm well connected everywhere.' Harry tapped the side of his nose. ‘It's a great performance. Now, are you ready to go to work?'

The sudden change of subject caught her on the hop, so all she could do was ask, ‘What is it?'

‘Film work.' His grin was back.

‘Harry, you know I can't afford to get my picture taken again.'

‘Susie, trust me.'

‘Hah!' she scoffed.

‘No, really, this is the one. V2. I'm ready to make the move.'

‘But Harry, Mr Skase said I'd ruined it with, with what happened yesterday.'

‘No, you didn't. You were miles off course. I'd have told you that if you'd bothered to ask me.' He sniffed. ‘Anyway, it's still a goer.'

Susie wasn't sure. Harry was the one who'd continually led her away from the story, she thought, messed her around so many times she'd gone over his head to the editor. And look where that had got her. She didn't know what to think, or who to trust. Except that Harry was offering her another chance at the story, and another for redemption, so she could prove to everyone how good a journalist she was. She had no choice, and sat down close to him. ‘Okay. Tell me.'

‘It's a film set, in Wembley. They're making a sci-fi movie. They want you – and don't ask how I know, I just do.'

She hadn't been going to ask him that. She had a pretty good idea that Harry was too well connected with the whole drug thing via the agency for him not to know what was going on. She was more interested in something else. ‘Sci-fi?' she queried.

‘Space, aliens, all that.'

‘Harry, I'm not an actress. You know that.'

Harry shrugged and tapped the cassette case. ‘You looked like one to me. You were acting, weren't you?'

‘Harry!'

‘Anyway, that's how I got you the job.'

‘You what?'

‘I sent them your tape. Standard industry procedure. Told them you were acting.'

Susie felt herself blush. Between her legs the narrow strip of fabric dampened further at the thought of complete strangers staring at her strapped into the chair while the ‘robots' used her for their pleasure, and she then finished the job with two fingers.

‘What sort of science fiction film is it, then?' she asked, trying to dismiss the humiliating thought.

Harry remained silent.

‘I am not going to be in a porno film,' she said sternly, hoping she sounded more certain than she felt.

‘Yes you are,' he replied at length, and the liquid warmth in her knickers told her he was right. But she kept her mouth firmly closed and her arms crossed. ‘Yes, you are,' said Harry again. ‘But this time, you really must make your excuses and leave.'

‘I—'

‘Once you're sure they're using the V2 – and I think you ought to recognise the evidence by now,' he laughed coarsely, making a stiff forearm gesture. ‘You just call and we'll be there. Harry to the rescue. Full cavalry charge.' He smiled encouragement, but there was no need. Her body had accepted the offer long before her mind agreed to go along with it.

‘When is this to happen?' she asked hoarsely.

‘No time like the present,' said Harry. ‘You go and do your face, and I'll call you a taxi.'

 

 

 

The taxi dropped her at the address Harry had given her, an ordinary looking warehouse on a grubby industrial estate, and wheeled rapidly away, as if the driver feared he'd be mugged if he hung around any longer. Susie followed his lead and walked swiftly out of the rain and through the small side door, entering a bustling and completely different world in which she felt almost at home. They were different people, but the atmosphere was welcoming, and she was familiar with the feel and sound of the place from Leo's studio.

Even the set in the middle of the huge warehouse looked familiar, except that the cocoon was painted lurid reds and purples where the other had been white with blue streaks, and the sand here was green, but that was the only real difference.

‘Hi, I'm Kirk, I'm directing.' He was a small, earnest figure in baggy sweater and black-framed spectacles, hunched over a clipboard held protectively to his chest. ‘And you are...?'

‘Charlie.' She smiled.

‘That's it, that's it,' he enthused. Leering avidly, he put one arm around her shoulder, pulling her body firmly against his own.

Grubby old git, thought Susie, but moved in the direction he was shepherding her.

‘We've done most of the movie already, with Ralf and Helen. You know them, do you?' he asked, looking around the set as if he didn't care one way or the other. ‘Anyway, they've done all their stuff, gone back to Holland I expect. But looking at the rushes, we need a bit more oomph.' He looked her up and down. ‘That's where you come in. We've written in this space monster thing, but we can't have the heroine bumped off halfway through the film, now can we? Let all the extras go a couple of weeks ago, but it doesn't really matter. You'll be great. Perfect.' He stopped his rambling, looked her carefully up and down, and seemed pleased with his purchase.

‘Now, what happens is the Lurkazoid – great name, huh? – chases you around these rocks, and then you trip, it catches you, and you're horribly done to death
here
,' he enthusiastically moved to the spot, ‘conveniently in close-up and sharp focus when he impales you with his stal... stat... oh bugger, I've forgotten what we called it. Big long thing, anyway. All you need to do is writhe about a bit and scream convincingly. Okay? Good. Now, off you go and see Jilly about costume and make-up, and we'll get on with these lights. Fred! Fred!' And he was gone.

Luckily one of the twenty or so spare people hanging around with apparently nothing to do heard what had passed between them and ushered Susie out the back to see Jilly for make-up, which appeared to consist mostly of black eyeliner, red lipstick and turning her face almost white.

When she'd finished it was time for the costume, though there wasn't much of it. The biggest part was a silver latex top that she had to be helped into. It clung to any part of her body it touched and took some effort to get into place, but once there it stretched and shrank to a perfect fit, clinging to the full curves of her breasts and gripping tightly around her nipples, making them stand out from the shiny silver surface.

Still hanging from a mobile clothes rail, the silver skirt was even smaller than the top, and was matched by knee-length silver boots with very high heels. The skirt was extremely short.

‘What are your knickers like?' asked Jilly, reading her mind.

‘Well, black thongy sort of things,' she replied.

‘I'll have a look in a minute,' said Jilly, fastening Susie's silver latex top with a small clasp at the back of the neck. ‘Careful with this,' she advised, ‘it's designed to tear really easily.'

Susie blinked, a little surprised, but Jilly was moving on.

‘Now, knickers. Let's have a look.' Susie stepped out of her skirt and Jilly cocked her head to one side, appraisingly. As she stared, Susie couldn't help remembering Maureen, and felt a small tremor between her thighs. But Jilly was all business. ‘Wear these,' she instructed briskly, offering Susie a small scrap of white material.

Like the top the knickers were a perfect fit, clinging to her like a second skin.

‘Great,' said Jilly, and gave her the skirt, a delicate garment that just reached the tops of her thighs. ‘I'll tell them we're ready,' she said, as Susie slipped her feet into the boots. She left, leaving Susie to tentatively view herself in the mirror, turning from side to side and observing that a small glimpse of the white V of her knickers was constantly revealed at the front, even when she was standing upright, and from behind the twin globes of her bottom thrust out provocatively.

‘Ready now,' said Jilly from the door. ‘It's unheard of, this; not to be kept hanging about. It's because they're running over schedule. Should have finished yesterday, and we have to be out of here by tomorrow. It could be a late one tonight, but at least it'll all be completed.' She chattered away as she led Susie out onto the set, where Kirk was talking to the world in general in his non-stop style.

‘Ah, Charlie,' he enthused as he turned to Susie, and his face lit up. ‘Why, that's perfect, just perfect. Absolutely good enough to eat. Which is roughly what we've got planned for you.' He hardly stopped talking long enough for the smile to flit across his face. ‘Now here's the deal. The Lurkazoid is chasing you – never mind how or why, it's a plot thing and we'll take care of that in post. So you come running round the rock there in long shot,' and he pointed to a lumpy papier mâché projection like a rock wall. ‘You run over towards the camera here,' he pointed at the sand, ‘and then we'll do a medium and reverses when you trip over this rock,' he tapped a small brown thing with his foot, ‘and fall here,' there was a comfy looking depression in the sand. ‘And then the Lurkazoid does his stuff in close-up, lots of different ones, and you come to a grisly end, tra-la. Happy with that?'

Susie smiled as if it all made sense, though none of it really did.

‘So, first thing, just run round the rock and past the camera, looking frightened. All right? Rehearsal everybody!' he called, not waiting to find out if it was all right or not. ‘Places everybody, please.'

‘First positions now,' echoed another voice, and the bustle around her died down to silence.

‘And, action!' called Kirk. Susie had never heard anyone say that before and mean it, but she dutifully ran round the rock and past the unblinking eye of the big camera mounted on a sort of trolley thing.

‘Good. Fine. But more fear, please, Charlie. And we'll go again,' he called.

Susie didn't have to act too hard; she was nervous and apprehensive and it looked like fear. And she knew that the little silver skirt covered little of her when she was standing still, and even less when she ran. And she also knew that the white knickers were all but transparent in ordinary light, never mind the huge lamps blazing all around the set. So there was a familiar warmth in her groin as she thought about all the people watching her and what they could see. She only had to glance briefly around before the next rehearsal to confirm that every one of the dozen or so men on the edges of the set – stagehands, riggers, lighting, whatever – was staring intently.

‘Great. Fantastic like that, Charlie, with the eyes.'

She guessed her flitting glances at the ogling crew had made her look scared.

‘Okay, we'll shoot it, just the same. Let's do it.'

They shot it three times; once for focus, once for exposure, and once for safety. Each time she saw that every man in the room was staring at her groin or breasts as she ran, and each time she felt a little hotter, a little wetter, and a little sexier.

‘We'll do the Lurkazoid in a moment, Charlie, but while you're here let's get the fall.'

Various people clustered efficiently, wheeling the camera around, and spent what seemed like ages fiddling with it, before Kirk finally turned back to Susie.

‘Right, Charlie, same thing, except you can start here, this side of the rock, and when you get here, level with me, just fall forward onto the mattress.' He cursed bitchily and turned. ‘Brian! Where's the fucking mattress?!'

‘Coming Kirk,' muttered a stagehand, dragging it into the light.

‘Okay, and rehearsal!'

People ran around shouting. ‘Quiet please! Places everybody!' and once again there was a still hush on the set.

‘Action!' shouted Kirk, so Susie ran up to him and threw herself onto the mattress.

Kirk looked at the cameraman, who nodded.

‘Perfect, we'll shoot it just like that.'

‘Going for a take now,' yelled the assorted voices. ‘First positions, everybody stop talking,' they called, and again the expectant quiet settled over them. When Kirk shouted ‘Action!' Susie did the same again. The camera tracked her, following her down to the floor, zooming in, concentrating on a small area, filling the monitor screen with her tight and bouncy bottom, neatly divided by a curve of white with a dark furrow at its centre.

‘And cut!' shouted Kirk, raising his head from the screen.

‘Check the gate,' yelled someone else, and there was a lot of shuffling before Kirk said, ‘Print it and we'll move on.'

While they wheeled the camera in front of the mattress, Kirk explained to Susie that he wanted her to stand at the other end and fall forward towards the lens. She did it two or three times until he was happy with her hands and face, and then he said, ‘Brian, mattress,' and the mattress was pulled away.

‘We'll only do this once,' said Kirk, but we have to see you land on the actual sand. Just like we rehearsed, only without the mattress. ‘Action!' and Susie duly fell forward onto the fine sand.

‘Great. Close-up now,' he said, and they spent the next twenty minutes shooting Susie's foot as it bumped into the papier mâché rock.

‘Right,' said Kirk, when that was finished. ‘Get the Zoid and we'll do his stuff now. Charlie, you can take a break for ten. Go and see Jilly, get your make-up sorted again,' and he turned away.

‘They're just shooting the stuff with the Lurkazoid running round the rock,' said Jilly, as she dabbed Susie's face with a brush. ‘It'll cut together with your shots and on screen it'll look like he's breathing down your neck.' They had coffee while they waited, but Jilly had been right about them being in a hurry and Susie had hardly swallowed the last of it when they called for her on set. Jilly dabbed her mouth, patted her hair and tugged the hem of the tiny skirt. ‘Okay,' she smiled.

Kirk was pacing irritably when she arrived. ‘Ah, Charlie. It's a medium shot, you on the floor, as you roll over and see the Lurkazoid looming over you. We'll do faces later. Let's go,' and Susie obligingly rolled over several times, aware of all the eyes watching her. The bright film lights made it certain there was no hint of a shadow to hide the view between her legs, and everyone could clearly see her rounded pussy swelling inside the thin white material. She knew how exposed she looked, and she hoped that the trickle of moisture the knowledge created couldn't be seen as well.

Kirk turned away from the monitor where he'd been admiring the way the pinkness of her body was so plainly visible through the thin material, and how the dark shadow at the centre of her was deepened by a growing patch of dampness. ‘Marvellous, he said to no one in particular. ‘Get the Zoid back.'

Susie almost laughed; it was a man in a scaly rubber suit with a row of fins down the back, clawed feet made from boots taped to his legs, and clawed gloves. He also had a scaly head with protruding jaw, and rows of sharp teeth beneath three shiny black eyes the size of tennis balls.

They took some shots from behind the Zoid as it loomed over her, pawing the air while she writhed around looking frightened, again fully aware of the way everyone seemed to be looking between her legs almost all the time, including the cameraman and his camera.

Half an hour later Kirk pronounced himself satisfied and they changed shot. ‘What happens now is that the Zoid sees you like that,' Kirk waved at the floor, ‘and then realises you're female. What we need to make that happen on screen is the close-up.' He issued instructions to all around and then to Susie. Lying on the floor with the lights burning down and everybody staring, she suddenly felt self-conscious, and so she parted her legs very slightly. ‘No, no, no. More than that, wider, wider,' gabbled Kirk. ‘It's where he sees you're a woman, so show me woman,' and he tapped irritably on her thigh until she'd spread her legs wide apart so the camera could zoom in and focus on the narrow strip of white that curved between her legs, tightly encasing her soft and tender flesh. Lights were adjusted, and she lay still, feeling the heat from the high-wattage bulbs and the burning intensity of the stagehands staring at her pussy; the inevitable glow within her produced an insistent seepage of liquid arousal as the traitorous lips began to swell and separate.

‘Shooting now,' yelled Kirk quickly, and they filmed her body as it flowered under their gaze.

‘Right, Charlie, that was great, really great. Now we've got the difficult bit. The Zoid has to rip your top with its claws. The stuff's dead thin, but it might sting a bit, so what we'll do is we'll set the shot up in rehearsal, and then shoot it once, real time, okay?'