O/D Productions Proudly Presents... Ch. 04

Of all people, Madge was the first one to rush into the light. "Were the hell did you come from?" Dorothy wondered aloud as the woman embraced her. Madge had made her up back at the house, but she hadn't seen her since leaving there... eons ago.

Dorothy," Madge gushed, standing back and holding Dorothy at arms length. "I saw the whole thing, start to finish, Randy to that fucking mind-blowing finale, and I still don't believe I witnessed what I just witnessed. Honey, you were...are un-FUCKING-believable!"

Dorothy didn't know whether to thank Madge first, or collapse against the woman in total exhaustion. She had only thought, after her first screen test, that she had been ridden hard and put up wet, now she knew what being rode hard really meant, because she completely done in and wringing wet—from the top of her head down to her toes—with a salty/slimy mixture of sweat, man cum... and woman cum, too. "Could I... could I get a cold soda?" she sputtered. "Please?"

Quentin came into the picture. "Fantastic!" he cried. "Simply the most convincing porn performance I've ever seen. I can't wait to see the rushes."

Bunny—the tired-eyed, dirty-blonde fluffer Madge had beaten out in the blackdick suck off the other night—held out a sweat-beaded soda can. "I was watching on the monitor and you had me jillin' like crazy before you ever got a dick in you, Dorothy." She popped the top on the can for O/D's rising new star. "And that second scene... I couldn't stop cumming the whole time." The girl proudly displayed the incontrovertible evidence of her words. "You did this to me, Dorothy." There was a dark wet splotch on the front of her faded, unbuttoned and unzipped jeans. "You, and that mega-hot performance."

Other crewmembers were crowding around Dorothy, heaping further praise and "well done" congratulations on her. The only one not to join in this mutual admiration gathering was Lincoln; he was still where he had been all along, the thoughts in his mind bouncing from disbelief to a professional's admiration for a convincing performance, but with ricochets off disillusionment that he doubted anyone else on the set would share with him.

The pretty, perky, spunky girl he was coming to have tender, protective feelings for was not the degenerate sexual animal he had just watch out-porn three of O/D Production's most hardcore porn stars. She couldn't be; Dot was a bubbly, upbeat, naively naughty little minx, whereas Dorothy had come off as a salivating, unpredictable, cum-crazed white chick with an uncontrollable lust for hard black dick... and, apparently, for sloppy wet pussy as well.

Dot had come on the set fresh as a daisy, an apprehensive newbie; Dorothy was now an accomplished, cum-drenched slut. The liberally applied green eye shadow around Dot's bright eyes and the too thick mascara on her long eyelashes—both dissolved by cum and Star's spending—had been reduced to grotesque green-brown streaks running down Dorothy's cheeks. The heavily applied slut lipstick that had been on Dot's pouty lips—which he had cared even less for than the slutty eye shadow and mascara—was all but gone; what little remained was a garish reddish-pink smear on Dorothy's chin.

Dorothy had cum in her hair, her face was bathed in cum, a long silvery strand of cum extended from her left nipple to her belly button, the insides of her thighs glistened with cum smears. If there was a hollow look in Dot's eyes, she could be taken for the disoriented, disassociated victim of a humiliating gang rape, but when Dorothy had rolled off the bed—after dispensing with Teak and Steele, then throwing the ever lovin' screws to Star Brite—her eyes had been hot blue embers of raw, naked lust.

And yet, beneath the trailer-trash cumslut Dorothy—if you really looked at her, looked deep enough—Dot's fresh, clean innocence could be seen peeking through from the porn whore she was presenting to her adoring fans. No, Dot and Dorothy were definitely not one and the same person and this was something Lincoln was just going to have to deal with; accept the fact that she could be sweet and kooky, slightly naughty Dot off the set, but when the lights came up and the cameras started rolling nasty, filthy, cum-crazed porn slut Dorothy exploded onto the scene. It was this, or—other than being just another white mouth, cunt, or asshole to stick his hard black dick into on screen—have nothing else to do with the enchanting, beguiling, whimsical little cumslut whore.

Lincoln suddenly realized that he was just about the only one not on the set, congratulating Dorothy. "What the fuck," he grumbled. If you were a true professional, you had to give kudos where and when kudos were due. Scooping up the towels and robe from the chair beside him, he waded into the midst of the Dorothy Admiration Clique.

All the adulation she was receiving was great, really something, but... Dorothy looked down at the bed she had recently sucked off and been fucked to unbelievable climaxes by black dicks, and also eaten pussy on... for the first time. Star Brite did not look exactly overjoyed at needing Teak and Steele's assistance in sitting up. "I might have taught the tiger a lesson in civility," she mused to no one in particular. "But I've got a really bad feeling I'm going to pay for it... in spades."

"Wrong choice of words, Newbie."

Dorothy whipped around. Her protective ebony knight—the one person she wanted to hear congratulations from the most—was standing there, holding out a towel. "Thank you, Linc," she said, taking the offered towel. "What do you mean 'wrong choice'?"

"Spades, on an interracial sound stage, can carry a whole different connotation than the one you meant."

"I'll remember that," she replied, mopping some of gooey the cum from her face. "The next time I decide I have to do something this stupid."

"It would only have been stupid if you hadn't pulled it off, Dorothy." Lincoln draped the robe around her shoulders. "Come on, let's go find you a shower."

Dorothy smiled. "If anyone around here needs a shower, I do."

His arm around her shoulders and her leaning into his body were the major contributing factors in keeping Dorothy upright as Lincoln steered her backstage. There was one bright spot in this, though; the smile she had given him had been weak, but at least it had been Dot's smile... and not Dorothy's sexually demented leer.

*

"That little whore's going down!" Star vowed as Teak and Steele escorted her to their shared dressing room. Walking between them, it would appear that she was leading the way, but she actually had death grips on both of their muscular arms because her legs were even wobblier than Dorothy's. The stagehands and other watchers seeing she had needed help sitting up had been humiliating enough. "No one does me like that and gets away with it," she bristled. "No one!"

"You can count on my help," Steele assured her.

On the other side of Star Brite, Teak Woods grunted. But, was it a grunt of agreement... or could it have been a grudging acknowledgement of something all together different?

To be continued...