Casting About: Part 2 [MF][Oral][Mast][ENF][Reluc][Exh][Voy]

**Casting About: Part 2**

A little more action this time. In case it’s not obvious, the start of the chapter title indicates who is ‘speaking’. Enjoy.

—-

**Darling flubs being a slimy producer**

My first couple of days were not that successful. Apparently, I wasn’t very good at being skeezy. I came off as too earnest, too real, too…*nice*. I had some decent actors pass through, some of the women really knocked my socks off with their readings of my terrible fake script. A couple of the actresses actually got completely nude for the Menisla scenes unprompted…method acting, I guess. I also got two blow jobs—also unprompted—a handy while we reviewed a woman’s test footage, *and* a good fucking as I bent a blonde over the conference table if I promised, *really* promised, to give her a callback.

Hell, I wasn’t lying. Any woman who was even remotely attractive and willing to show a little skin would get a callback; that was the whole point. I had a few walkouts, a few who didn’t fit my parameters (tattoos or unusual piercings) or were lying about their age. I mean, look, a fifty-year-old can be beautiful, especially in California, but she sure as hell can’t pass for thirty, regardless of the quality work on her tits. That just wasn’t the type of site I was looking to build. Still, my goal had been to get real casting couch porn, real heartbreak at the loss of a part, the slight breaking point at being willing to do porn. There’s drama there. There’s a story, and one that can really work with a good actress behind it. That was the next stage—the callbacks—but my first few were complete disasters.

I called a petite redhead back in, a real beauty, gorgeous green eyes, perky white tits, beautiful rosy nipples. I sat her down in the production area, all the cameras running, though she didn’t really know at the time.

“So, Joanne, I could have just done this over the phone, but well, you didn’t get the part.” She held a brave a face, but she was devastated. Her reading was not great—not one of the worst—but not great. She didn’t really have a shot at acting with her current abilities. I wasn’t even sure lessons would help. “Now, I know it’s upsetting, always, but I liked what I saw in you. You really held your own against the other girls. Honestly, they probably didn’t want a redhead.”

“I can dye my hair!”

“I was just being nice.” I looked back toward the small storage room at the back of the suite. “Charles, can you come out here?” ‘Charles’, an actor I’d hired specifically on the promise of free sex and a possible porn career, walked out smiling. “I brought you back to meet Charles, but I’ll let him explain.” I got up from the couch, letting the tall, handsome, and almost embarrassingly buff Charles sit next to Joanne. The switch off was intentional. I didn’t mind the occasional sexual freebies from the initial casting process, but I didn’t actually want to be *in* porn, just in the porn business. I still, technically, had a reputation, after all.

“Hey, I’m Charles.” He shook her hand. “Darling’s primary business, the one that pays the bills, is talent scouting and management. The development side, though, there’s good money for a woman with your talents.”

“Like, producing, you mean? I’ve never done that.”

“No, still acting. You know how erotica is really big in the ebooks field? Like, no one really wants to be seen holding a romance novel on the bus or at work, but on your phone or tablet…no one knows, right? So, here, we’re developing video erotica—.” He was working with a script, but some interruptions were expected.

“Porn?” Her eyes got wide, shocked.

“No, distinctly no, that’s the point.” He added. “No one wants to buy porn. They steal it off the internet, they spank to it while hiding it from their spouses. I’m talking about *erotica*, with story, plot, possibly even a series of stories. Yes, there will be nudity, sex, even, but tasteful, not plastic people with too many tattoos and multiple drug overdoses in their future.”

“And you want me to be in your…*erotica*?” She asked.

“I want you to audition for it, Joanne, yes.”

“You’ve seen my work…? From my audition. You obviously like me.”

“Hey, Joanne, baby, look, I know you have the acting chops, you have the looks, sure, but does that hold up for the erotic content?” He looked at her, so steady…he was a decent actor…and liar.

“So, what does that mean? What do I have to do?” She asked. Charles got up and grabbed a couple of scripts, ‘The Boss’s Whims’. I was not that proud of it, the writing or the title, but the content got to the point quickly.

“So, we do a reading, on camera, and you follow the stage directions. I’m Mr. Carlson, you’re Vanessa the intern. We’ll see how you do. Darling and I think you could be one of the breakout stars. Read it over, first.” She read it through, then bit her lip.

“This, um, says I’m supposed to be named first, and then…um…after the line readings, I’m supposed to blow you, like simulate it, or…”

“The real thing, Joanne. It’s kind of what we need to know you can do, that you can handle it…be believable, not fake, not flat like those lame porn stars. I’m actually going to be your costar if you get the part—maybe that shows you how indie we are right now—when was the last time you heard of a producer being in their own stuff? Stallone, maybe, in *Rocky*.” The asshole was off script. “I’m a little shy, too, to be honest, but the money will be good, residuals and all.” That was *also* off script. Residuals probably wouldn’t be in the contract. “Go ahead, get undressed, at least. The rest, we’ll just go where the script takes us.” The script would take them to a blow job in under two minutes, that was the point. Joanne started getting undressed. She was obviously nervous, but she wasn’t too shy about having an audience. She was wearing a lacy thong and bra, green, that really set off her eyes. She stripped quickly, and sat on the couch naked, half covering the reddish-orange landing strip between her legs.

“I’m glad to see you took my lessons to heart, Vanessa.” Charles started the script. “One of the things you need to learn about business, one of the most powerful lessons, is that when power speaks, you listen…you obey.”

“I’m only doing this because you caught me, Mr. Carlson, and I want to keep my internship.”

“I caught you taking naked selfies in my office, before the start of the work day. I let you go without a word, and you had the audacity to tell other people, to talk about it? What the hell were you thinking? I took you under my wing, I was very kind. I thought our weekly mentor lunches were really having an impact. And you, for lack of better term, disrespected me.”

“And yet, here I am, my clothes back at my cubicle, and missing a dinner with my parents. Do you know how embarrassing it was to walk through the office naked like this? Someone could have seen me!” Joanne, to her credit, was really delivering on the script, though she still wasn’t that great an actor. “Who is disrespecting whom?”

“A little embarrassment really drives the lesson home.” Charles teased her nipple—in the script—though she pulled back—not in the script—she was still in the part.

“I’m not going to sleep with you, Mr. Carlson.”

“Sleep with me?” He laughed. “I don’t sleep with anyone who doesn’t know Cabernet from a Beaujolais, Rolex from Timex…oh, maybe I’ll start tutoring you in being a real woman, teach you of the finer things in life…maybe *then* I’d be willing to reward you with the pleasure of sex with me, but for now? Now, you need to learn your place.” Charles undid his pants, pulling out his cock. He was a little stiff, but not hard. Joanne was outright staring at his crotch. I could see the conflict on her face, as if she was finally realizing where the script was going, even though she’d read it over moments before.

“What…” She stumbled over the line. “What am I supposed to do with that?” He took her hand and put it around his shaft, moving it slowly up and down. It was off-script, but it helped him get hard, at least.

“You couldn’t keep your mouth shut about your little selfie escapade, so now, I think, you need something to fill that mouth, something that will remind you of the consequences of speaking out of turn.” He pulled her closer, bringing her head down to his lap. Her lips just touched the head of him, parted a bit, when she froze, stopped, pulled back.

“No, I can’t do this, I’m sorry, I can’t.” She said.

“No ad-libbing.” Charles said as Joanne sat up straight, covering her breasts.

“I’m *not* ad-libbing. I can’t do this. This is still porn.” She said.

“I beg to differ,” I said, “and you’ll be making well above SAG wages. I thought you had what it takes. Are you telling me you never gave a blow job before?”

“Not for a show! Not for money!” She protested.

“We’re paying you to *act*. Some of our customers might be paying to see the blowjob, but the acting is what will keep bringing them *back*, the story, the drama. Sure, the scenarios may be a bit trite, but it’s no different than weeknight lawyer or doctor dramas.” She wasn’t budging, and I gave it my best, pretentious, shot. “This is still *art*, dammit!”

“Look,” she said, getting up and starting to get dressed, “if you want me for a show, for soft core, even, I’m game, but the moment a cock goes in my mouth or in any other part of me—on camera—you can call it *art*, but it’s still *porn*!” She finished dressing and stormed out.

“What am I supposed to do with this now?” Charles said, looking down at his erection. The tipe of him was still wet from her lips.

“Yeah…don’t look at me, pal.” I muttered, and went back to my office.

Sadly, that was one of the *best* chances we had. A third of the women wouldn’t even hear out Charles’s pitch, another third of the remaining women gave up after reading the script, and the rest bugged out shortly after Charles pulled out his cock. Joanne was the only candidate that had even *touched* him. It wasn’t even giant. Seven inches. Big by average, sure, but not a monster. I had no good footage, and an actor with a growing case of blue balls (and yes, I know that’s not a real condition). I had Lucy make a few more callbacks. I was so fucking exasperated she offered to fuck me to calm down—and I said no! I just needed to find the right combination—the *perfect* combination—of beauty, acting, and *desperation*.

—-

**Sheryl gets a callback**

I’ll admit, I was surprised when Darling called. My reading was good, I knew that, but I figured I would be too old for the part, that someone would figure out I was 32, not 27. Still, I was desperate. It sounds like an excuse now, of course, but landlords don’t give a crap about future auditions, only that month’s rent check. I returned to Darling’s offices less than an hour after he called. Lucy gave me a half smile as she glanced up from the game on her phone, and she pointed me back to the production suite. It took five minutes before Darling gave me the bad news.

“Charles, can you come out here?” A handsome guy in a grey suit came out from the back room. “I brought you back to meet Charles, but I’ll let him explain.” Darling got up from the couch and Charles sat next to me.

“Hey, I’m Charles.” He shook my hand. “Darling’s primary business, the one that pays the bills, is talent scouting and management, but the development side? There’s good money for a woman with your talents.”

“I know my way around development. I was an AP on *Secret Admirer*…”

“Really?” Charles blinked, “I *love* that show!” Darling coughed, and Charles shifted in his seat. “Um, actually, no, we still want you for *acting*. You know how erotica is really big in the ebooks field? Like, no one really wants to be seen holding a romance novel on the bus or at work, but on your phone or tablet…no one knows, right?”

“Um, sure…?” I said, confused.

“So, here, we’re developing video erotica—.”

“Porn.” My eyes narrowed.

“No, distinctly no, that’s the point.” He added. “No one wants to buy porn. They steal it off the internet, they spank to it while hiding it from their spouses. I’m talking about *erotica*, with story, plot, possibly even a series of stories. Yes, there will be nudity, sex, even, but tasteful, not plastic people with too many tattoos and multiple drug overdoses in their future.”

“And you want me for this?” I asked.

“I want you to audition for—.”

“Holy shit.” I said, cutting him and looking at him squarely, “I just realized who you are. You’re Michael…um, Michael Groves. We fucking *worked* together on *Branson’s Dock*.”

“Shit.” Charles, but actually Michael, said.

“This is a goddamn guerilla porn shoot.” I stood up. Oddly enough, I wasn’t really mad, per se, just annoyed. It would probably cost me ten bucks I didn’t really have in gas just to make the round trip. “Oh, Jesus Christ, I can’t believe I fell for this.” I slapped my forehead. “You already have naked pictures of me, some nude footage…so, what’s next? You show a me script that just happens to get me naked again, and then what, two more guys come out and we have a bukkake party, or whatever it’s called? And you, *Darling*, you’re a real fucking actor…maybe not super rich and famous, but *you* can act, at least…”

“Hey!” Charles / Michael snapped.

“So, what, now you trick people into doing porn? Do you even intend to make your video erotica or whatever, or is this just some casting couch bullshit?” It wasn’t the first time I’d been in that situation, just the first time I’d gotten that deep that quickly.

“Um…” Darling hesitated. “Both, probably?” I started to leave. “Wait, wait…you really *can* act. Fuck, you blew me away in your audition.” I made a disgusted face. “Sorry, blew was a bad choice of words, but yeah, even with my shitty fake script, you knocked it out of the park. Seriously. Bring *that* back for my cameras. You act nervous and shy, a little hesitant, and then you blow Michael. Yeah, on its face, it’s porn. No question. I don’t deny it.” He held up his hands defensively. “When the money starts coming in from online views, then we look to *actually* have you act, like in *real* erotica…like what we were talking about. The porn would be a distant second to the story. You said you’re a writer…you could write, act, produce, hell, I’ll even let you *direct*.”

“How much?” I asked.

“What?” Darling said.

“How much for the blow job scene.” Darling looked from me to Michael, then back.

“Five hundred, flat fee, and, um, 10% on the backend—once I clear $2500.” He added. He came over and took my hand, pulling me back into the room. “I can put that in writing. Come on Sheryl, you haven’t been on screen in five years. I checked. If it hasn’t happened in Hollywood by now…well, you have a great option here, too.”

“Darling,” I smiled, “how about I counter-offer? You pay me $250 a girl I wrangle, 5% of their backend—all puns intended—and Michael can go fuck…him*self*.” I looked at the handsome but dumb actor. “We fucking slept together *twice*, you asshole, and you *never* called me back!” Michael looked stunned.

“Uhh…what is happening?” Darling shook his head.

“I’m apparently a bit of a prick to women.” Michael said, and not even defensively.

“I’m not some prude. Fuck, I got naked for you before, didn’t I? I half-expected *you* to be the one making a move, but you actually seemed like a nice guy for such a slimy creep. I was an AP for a shitty reality show. I trashed my reputation, sure, but the one thing I was *really* good at was getting people to do shit they thought they would probably *never* do. I’ve gotten virgins to hook up with sluts. I’ve gotten shy girls to flash the cameras on national TV. Hell, I convinced a handful of cast members to fuck me, male *and* female, and they *knew* it could get them removed from the show. So, yeah, you want to convince mediocre actresses to do porn? Fine. I’m cool with that. That’s a fucking cakewalk. You’re obviously going for some type of cinema verité thing here…reality porn, kind of. You want to make the erotica you talked about, I’m game for that, too. I think you have a good idea there and you don’t even realize it. But this? This game you’re playing?” I waved around the production room. “This is a shit show, fucking amateur hour. How many women have you had through here so far?”

“A little over thirty.” Darling said.

“And how many went all the way?” I asked.

“None.” Michael answered.

“And Michael, as much as you’re an asshole, you’re a *good-looking* asshole. Doesn’t that tell you two that your approach is wrong? So, like I said, keep up your little game, and I’ll play. I get a $250 headhunter’s fee for each girl that goes in all the way. After ten successes, my fee goes up to $500. At one hundred, I get $1000.”

“You’re crazy!” Darling said.

“Well, I have to *get* those numbers first, don’t I?” I walked past him. “A hundred girls in your stable? Less than a hundred grand will seem like *nothing* to you at that point. I’ll produce this, wrangle the girls, rewrite your shitty scripts, and we will all make a lot of money. Oh, and you find me a place to live down here so I don’t have to commute from my shitty one-bedroom in not-quite-LA, okay? Get *that* in writing. Do we have a deal?” I asked.

“Um, yes.” Darling said. “It’s actually, um…welcome aboard?” I sat on the couch. “What are you doing?”

“My part for the business. Let me see your script.” He handed it to me. I read it over. It wasn’t good, but it wasn’t terrible. “When do you start filming these scenes?”

“As soon as Michael sits on the couch, though we have camera rolling to catch everything. I’m not in the films. Well, *when* we have films, I won’t be in them.”

“Okay, so, first up, you will be a voice off camera, you will ask the women to get undressed for the scene—the voice of God, as it were. Project. Be commanding, not stern, just…make the audience feel you’re in charge. That someone is giving orders that are expected to be followed. Then Michael—*Charles*—comes out. You’ll get more shyness, more embarrassment, then, from the girls. Give her the script, let her squirm a bit. Maybe she goes for it, maybe she doesn’t.”

“Drama.” Darling said. “Suspense.” He wasn’t an idiot.

“And that’s where *I* come in. I will convince most of these women to do it. That happens off camera, too. No one needs to have video evidence of my mojo. Then the girl comes back, we cut thirty seconds from the scene, more or less right up to the blow job. You can save the extended bit for a the premium subscribers or whatever. We pay them in cash on camera, while they’re still naked, then we ask them to come back—presuming we like the girl—to do more. Their agreeing—that transformation from actor to porn actor? That’s the *real* money shot.”

“Holy shit.” Michael muttered, obviously stunned at my carefully honed reality show cruelty. I wrote some things down and handed them off to Darling.

“Get in the closet, Michael.” I said. “We’re resetting for a new shoot.”

“With you?” Michael asked.

“Do I still get $500 for doing this, too?” I asked.

“Um, sure.” Darling said. “Wait, I don’t have $500 in cash.”

“Jesus…were you going to pay them in gift cards?” I laughed.

“I figured I would just write a check later.” Darling said sheepishly.

“A check. You would have had the cops called on you—or worse yet, an angry boyfriend—in here in hours after your first successful scam.” I shook my head. “Just hand me a stack of paper with a twenty on top. You have a twenty, at least, right?” He nodded. “It’s movie magic, dummy.” I pointed to Michael. “Go get in the closet and wait for your cue. “Okay, Darling, let’s get this show rolling.” I sat on the couch, looking nervous, anxious, just like any audition.

“So…” Darling started from off screen. “Thanks for coming back, Shayla.” I wasn’t going to use my real name. “I was asked to do a movement roll of you. The producers liked your audition, but they need to see you in a bit more action. So, just like last time, I need you to be naked for part of this.”

“Completely, like, nude all the way?” I asked.

“Yes, but just for the first movement set. I have some wardrobe shots I need to do, too, okay? This is, like, the final step before casting. You are in the running.”

“Great,” I beamed, “fantastic. So, um, just get undressed here?” I was pretending to be my idiot self from about ten minutes earlier. Very method.

“That’s fine.” He said. “We’re not shooting yet.” I started to undress, not really making a show of it—that would be obvious—but occasionally glancing nervously at the camera. I half covered my breasts after I took off my bra, but made sure some of my nipples were showing. Taknig off my panties, I turned my back to the camera and pointed my ass straight at it, giving a nice, but presumably unaware, show as I bent over. I turned back to face the camera, still being shy. “Could you make sure to not cover yourself, otherwise we might have to do this again.”

“Oh, um, of course. I’m just not used to being completely naked like this…in front of people…cameras, that is.” Darling toyed with his phone for a moment, all part of my script. He had to make it ring. The ringtone could be heard on camera with the drop mic overhead.

“What?” Darling snapped. “Are you fucking kidding me? This is, like, months of work for me—I don’t *care* that I’m still getting paid. I have one of the women here right now, tits and ass out, waiting to do a movement reel.” I went from smiling to nervousness, to half-covering myself and pretending to be cold. “I’m just supposed to tell her production’s been shut down because of some change of management. This girl is talented! Yeah, fine, fuck you very much, too, Tommy!”

“Um,” I asked, “is there a problem?”

“I think you probably heard enough of that to know it’s done…the show is *done*. Freakin’ studio politics. That’s all it is. You were great, though, really great.”

“But…that’s it? It’s all done…just like that?” I asked, eyes wide. I may not have ever said those words in real life, but the situation was one I’d experienced far too often in my brief career.

“Look, I’m sorry, but…no, wait, okay, just wait. Sit down, let me go talk to someone really quick. This is going to sound crazy, but just sit, okay?” I sat down on the couch and crossed my legs, keeping my arms in front of my breasts. Darling went over to the storage room and knocked on the door, stepping inside. We could put a hushed conversation on the video in post, some argument about me being really talented, worth a second chance. But will I do it? He doesn’t know. ‘Charles’ doesn’t know. But the money’s good, and it’s a chance to make something different, *positive*. I’d have to figure out a script and how the girls would actually overhear it, but it will work. I act bored at first, then I’m not covering myself as much. I tease my nipples a bit, look down between my legs. Oh, gee, I’m naked. I smooth out my pubic hair a bit. My legs spread a bit wider. Nothing nasty, just…vulnerable. Voyeurism is no good if the target is *in* on it. Shayla doesn’t know the cameras are still on, right? Finally, Darling leads ‘Charles’ toward me. Darling says he’ll let Charles explain, though I’m back to being shy.

We act out the scene, and Charles makes his reveal, the elephant cock in the room. He’s not fully hard, which is good for story. I made a show of hesitating, but I take him in my hand, then in my mouth. I try to keep my hair out of my face, and I’m pretty confident in my oral skills, not to mention this wasn’t the first time I’d blown this particular guy, but I am *distinctly* aware of the fact that I—me, Sheryl—have actually crossed a line here. I mean, even if my video never saw the light of day, I was doing porn. In that moment, blowing a guy for cash—on film—I was doing porn. When Charles started coming, I pulled back, acting a bit surprised, letting some of it catch me in the face, on my tits. I bit my lip, looking chagrined, and sat up, looking at the camera in all my come-covered glory.

“Was, um, was that okay?” I asked.

“We *have* to hire her.” Michael said. He was off-script. Fucking amateur. No wonder he’d fallen into porn. And, yes, I’m an asshole hypocrite.

“Agreed.” Darling said. “Pay her, offer her more work.” Michael zipped up and walked over to Darling. I could see him hand off a fold of bills, and Michael came back over to me.

“Look, I know you didn’t get the part you thought you wanted, but you’re exactly who we were looking for.” He took my hand and placed a fold of bills in it. I looked down, seeing a hundred wrapped around some ones and fives.

“Wow! Five hundred dollars.” I said, ignoring the fact that I was still glistening with come.

“This is just for your audition video. If you’re willing to come back, maybe do a little more, be in one of our longer story productions, I think we can really make some great work here.”

“I’m a mess, I know,” I said, touching some of the semen on my breasts, “so I won’t hug you.” I squealed. “I can’t wait to read more of the script!”

“Hey, you did great. Go get cleaned up.” Michael slapped me on my ass.

“Cut!” I snapped. “Jesus, Michael, this isn’t baseball.” I looked to Darling, rubbing my ass. “Please tell me you got all of that? There’s only so much dicking around I can take in a day.” He had headphones pressed up to his ear, reviewing footage.

“Fuck, that was…that was surprisingly good for improv and last-minute script notes.” He said.

“Yeah?” I asked. “Did it *really* look like I *blew* a guy?” I needed a drink, and not just to rinse out my mouth.

“You know what I mean.” He muttered. I walked over to the conference table and grabbed a handful of tissues, wiping myself off. “We need to do some work in post, but it’s solid as is—and it was hot. Seriously. I’m actually hard right now.”

“Good.” I said.

“What?” He asked.

“If you want *me* to do all this, and *more*, the final part of my deal, the make or break, is for you to get on that couch, pull out your hard dick, and jerk off for the camera.” He looked at me. “I’m serious.” I tossed him the tissues. “This is probably the end of my legitimate acting career…and you have it on film. I want yours too, no excuses.”

“This is ridiculous.” Darling muttered.

“You don’t have to put it on the site, that’s not what I’m asking. I’m saying, if you want to be part of the club, you need to go through initiation. Maybe it will make you realize what you’re asking of everyone else, trickery or not.” I moved behind the camera, pushing him in front of it. I was still naked, but honestly, I didn’t feel like I had much to hide at that point.

“Michael, can you leave the room?” Darling asked.

“Nope, he stays. Performance anxiety is part of the initiation. Come on, take out your little casting agent.” Darling was shy, oddly enough, about getting naked, but he did give in. He unzipped his pants and took out his cock. He *was* hard, he hadn’t been lying about that. He started jerking off and *wasn’t* shy about looking at me, my nudity, as he reached climax, he closed his eyes, caught up in it for a few moments until he started coming, catching it all in the tissues. “Cut! Welcome to the club, Darling.” He blushed, and got up from the couch. He took the memory disk from the camera, not even putting away his cock yet, and jammed it in his pocket. “I expect you to keep that disk in your safe. If I ever want to see it, you’re going to let me.” He nodded, though bashfully. He put away his flaccid penis and straightened up.

“I need you to fix my scripts,” he said, trying to take back a little control, “pick out five potential candidates for next Monday, and a handful of other things I’ll be sending you emails about.”

“My title is Associate Producer to the girls—that’s my acting role—but I’m Producer on my resume, should I ever make a new one.” He nodded. “I don’t do secretary work, I won’t tolerate sexual harassment—unless it’s in a script I wrote—and you *will* direct deposit that $500 by the end of the week, no checks, are we clear?”

“Crystal. Glad to have you onboard, Sheryl.” He shook my hand, forgetting that I had it around Michael’s cock just a few minutes earlier, and that was how I entered the porn business.

**End Part 2**

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/bhddg3/casting_about_part_2_mforalmastenfrelucexhvoy