Pete happened to be in a dive bar in Santa Monica, arriving there in his new Porsche, a symbol of his recent windfall. In the passenger seat was Angie, the yin to Sunny's yang. They were best friends and usually together, and he had some delightful threesomes with them, but Monica weaned Sunny away, and almost out of spite he began to spend more time with Angie. The eighteen-year-old blonde with the vacant demeanor was easy on the eyes, and easier on the psyche. Pete liked her enough to offer her a job at the Health Club, working as Jo's assistant and, hopefully, a return to the threesomes he loved so much.
Weed turned Angie into an obedient sex doll, and she was rarely without. "Just keep that shit away from Jo; if ya gotta do it, go out to the parking lot. That's all I ask."
"You're pretty cool about it," she said.
"Hey baby, the way you fuck; are you kidding?" Weed made Pete horny, as if he needed more incentive, so he didn't mind Angie having it around.
As far as he was concerned, tonight was all about business. Monica said she was in the market for some new blood, and Pete would investigate every lead to find her some, especially when it looked like Lisa, which meant that the drinks were on Donkey's tab. Lisa was a friend of Angie, a part-time, bit player actress with several credits in minor productions. Angie asked if she'd ever consider doing porn; Lisa had reservations, but Donkey wasn't like regular porn, and after describing her recent experience, Angie's friend agreed to meet Pete.
The first thing one noticed about Lisa was her hair. It was dark, very thick and very long, extending down to the small of her lower back. Her hair was straight for the most part, but its sheer mass added a tiny, subtle curl to the lower half of it as it descended down her curvaceous frame. Lisa had a real cute face, but her hair could easily overshadow it, but her hair was a sexy beast unto itself.
The second thing one noticed about Lisa was her breasts, especially since the top she wore was tight and form fitting. If asked to describe her boobs in one word, luscious, delectable, and good-enough-to-eat, would be the top three choices.
The third thing one noticed about Lisa was her wardrobe. If today was anything to go by, she favored knee-high leather boots and short black miniskirts. Her twenty-two year old body was ripe in all the right places. Pete showed great restraint by not drooling.
"No banging, that's my only no-go. My pussy is off limits."
"You mean on the video, right?"
Angie and Lisa both laughed. "Of course, silly," she replied.
"Good to know" Pete said. "I didn't think you were a virgin. And we like to mix it up; you got that Hispanic look going on, which is perfect, because we mostly hire blondes with no brains...uh, not you, Angie, it's just a figure of speech...which is, uh..."
"What Pete's trying to say," intervened Angie, "is that you look good enough to make guys jerk-off."
"I'll say!"
"Wait, this isn't some sort of sick thing, is it?"
Pete turned to Angie. "Did you show her the video?"
"Not yet."
"Baby, we make sick shit. I'm not gonna lie to you. Some of the stuff is so sick that...well...it sells, so go figure."
"What kind of sick shit?"
"Beating, whipping, homo...a lot of masturbation...you name it. Fetish porn, my ex calls it. But there's very little fucking; hell, you probably won't even have to take your clothes off, which is a damn shame, because you look like one hot firecracker. You'll probably have to give a hand-job to someone with a giant dick, or watch him jerk off."
"I could do that," she said.
"My ex has the final say on cast, but she never says no to me. I know who's got it, and baby you got it! Angie says you're an actress. They're dime a dozen in this town. You work with us, it might lead to more gigs; you never know. And the pay is pretty good. If Monica thinks you're hot she'll pay top dollar, so think sexy when you meet her...wait, what the fuck am I saying? Look at you! Like I need to talk to you about being sexy."
"Okay, Pete, sign me up. Let's meet this ex of yours."
Pete looked over at Angie, and then at Lisa. "How the fuck did you two meet, anyway?"
Lisa gazed at Angie and smiled. "A lady never tells," she said.
"I take that to mean you'd like to come back to my place and have a threesome with Miss Sugar Cakes over here."
"Like I said, sign me up."
Pete didn't expect something for nothing; in that regard he was an old-fashioned gentleman, so he sprung for an expensive dinner - hey, it was Donkey's money - and a few cocktails at a high-end joint, before dipping his wick in Lisa's orifice. Angie decided that smoking weed would make the threesome better, and Pete made no attempt to dissuade her.
"That was one good fuck," he said afterwards, still panting from the exertion. He phoned Monica with the good news, while Lisa rubbed his tired penis with her toes. He snapped a photo and texted it to his ex-wife.
"What do you mean, how does she look in clothes? Who gives a fuck...oh, that's right...all I can tell you is I got hard as soon as I saw her...her hooters are better than Olivia's...okay, just as nice...she's a friend of Angie's; you know, Sunny's friend...You got a role for her...okay, I'll let her know."
Both ladies looked at him after he got off the phone. "Well?"
"She wants to meet you," he said, "but I think you're in. She wouldn't waste her time if you weren't a cinch."
Lisa managed to surround his cock with two of her toes and gave it a gentle tug. "I could see myself doing R-rated stuff. T and A, that kind of thing."
"This could lead to that, I suppose. I got a friend, a colleague really, who might be casting soon for an Amazon army in some flick he's putting together. You're not that tall, but he might be enough of a pussy hound to hire you anyway. As for you, Sugar Cakes, you gotta be patient. We got a lot of shit to film, and they're always looking for cunts, especially young blonde ones who like to fuck and suck."
"That would be me," Angie replied. She lit another joint.
"Let's go out to the Jacuzzi," Pete said, and they retired to his deck. Lisa carried three glasses, Pete a bottle of champagne, and Angie an ashtray and lighter. "And he's got one of the smallest cocks on the set," she whispered to Lisa."
"Hey, I heard that," Pete said. "But it's true." He grabbed his penis and wiggled it proudly. "Nine inches, baby, but Monica's finds dicks that put me to shame. That's another perk, if you're into big ones." Lisa smiled.
"My God," were Monica's first words after Lisa stripped down to her underwear. Red bras paired with black panties were a hot fashion statement. Lisa possessed an earthiness that the director found very beguiling, and it was a quality often overlooked when Donkey cast their females. How divine her breasts would be when restrained within the confines of a white Soapland bikini top. And was there a reason why her long hair couldn't be braided and tied around a young man's boner on a Soapland massage table? Could it handle a sperm shampoo? Monica's mind was racing once again, which was almost always a good sign for the person who triggered it, meaning that Lisa got the job.
So now she had three Soapland workers: Carol, Leslie and Lisa. Two blondes and a brunette; one approaching MILF territory, one in their early twenties and one in their mid-twenties; two slutty Caucasians and one earthy Hispanic. There were still two more to go, plus Mama-San. Jacky was available for that role, but Monica preferred a new face. There were a lot of Mama-Sans out there just waiting to be discovered, and once more she turned to Pete.
"I need someone over thirty-five who's a real looker, and who's stacked."
"You always come to me when you need a favor," he quipped.
"Excuse me? I thought I was talking to the Executive Producer, in charge of recruitment, who gets paid quite handsomely for his efforts."
"Alright, okay, stop bitching. I'm on it."
Monica had been thinking about something Jane had mentioned, which was to hire the tall chick, Sydney, and pair her with the smallest guy in the room. That had certain panache to it. But could she get Sydney without James? Were they even still an item? She put Olivia on the case. It turned out that Sydney was available, for the right price, and James would jump at the chance to work again, if asked.
Monica couldn't think of any reason why James couldn't play the test subject for the training lesson, but to give it a little edge Lisa, and not Sydney, would be the trainee. If James were lucky, Sydney would take it out on him later that evening.
The two of them were living together and getting serious. Sydney had retired from the ranks of professional dominatrices, and she was now more than willing to lay a heavy number on James, who loved her as the aggressor, whether it be butt reaming, spanking, cock torture...you name it. The donkey lifestyle had gotten to him, because he was now infatuated with the idea of being dominated by a strong woman he could call his own, and Sydney was the perfect tonic; she unlocked the key to his hidden chamber. Sydney, for her part, saw a trophy penis with a good-paying job. That was her idea of win-win.
With Sydney on board, Monica had one female worker left to recruit, but a thought dawned on her. Why not get a man for the fifth worker, and why not have him work on one of the straight boys? All the other workers were occupied, so it was a male attendant or nothing, or something along those lines. It was at least worth considering. But who'd be right for the part, if she went that route? She ruled William out; he was in the previous
Soapland
. It was too soon for Dan, after his title role in
Dan's Penis
? Then again, the first
Soapland
had a male worker, so would it be too repetitive to have it again in the next installment? There were so many things to consider. Casting, this film would be all about the cast.
Darryl and Yuri would play two of the male customers. Yuri would play the gay boy whose parents had sent him to the Soapland to rid him of the homosexual disease. Darryl would bring his yet uncast eighteen-year-old grandson on his eighteenth birthday. They could arrive with just two workers available, a man and a woman, and they'd have to choose who got which. That could be a diabolically clever plot line. She was relying on Roland to find a young stud to play Darryl's grandson, and how hard could that be? The remaining two roles were up in the air; it would depend on whomever they recruited for the video. Monica didn't know what she wanted, but she'd know it when she found it. It could be company workers sent there as a reward by their boss; two college guys out for a fun evening; a bachelor having one last experience before his marriage...and the list went on.
Monica rummaged through her database of male actors to see if anyone jumped out at her. She really liked the idea of having a male worker. Johnny was a possibility. But should the male worker look openly gay? Wouldn't it be better if he were straight? Maybe she should save that concept for the weekly
Soapland
