The Script Girl Fills In

I shot this one out in a couple days. Didn't think it was worthy of more edits, but should be a fun one for those into the ENF genre. Almost all softcore, until the end.

*****

Fraternity Initiation was yet another teen comedy being produced by Albert Sizemore. He'd made bank with his American Made series, not to mention several financially successful remakes of popular '80s teen comedies. Most of his movies only cost between five and ten million to produce, while returning vast sums in comparison to the budget. They weren't going to win any significant awards, but they performed well with young crowds.

While it was mostly low-brow humor, Albert Sizemore's production and distribution deals kept him on the A-list of producers in Hollywood. He may not have been the most respected producer in Hollywood, but at least he was in the club. Frankly, I was just happy to be working again. My gig as a script girl on Night Beat, a syndicated TV-cop show, ended with the series finale five months ago. I'd been scraping for anything until I finally got the call from someone at Sizemore Studios.

"Phyllis Lavender at R&A said you were great on Felix Lester's movie. Best script girl he ever had," said the man on the phone.

I hated that they still called us "script girls." Our jobs were to ensure continuity in the script, dress and stage. It required a lot of attention to detail, diligent note taking, photo logs and more.

The man on the phone finally introduced himself as Harry Bixley and continued, "We'd love to try you out and if you're a good fit, maybe we'll bring you on for other productions."

I was ecstatic to hear the news, but remained professional. After some back and forth, we'd arranged for a meet and when we did, Harry offered a wage package that was considerably handsome for the short stint. Hopefully, I'd do well enough for them to hire me on for others. I didn't jump up and down in cheers in front of the man, but it was happening in my mind.

Now, on the first day of production, the main cast and critical staff members were together to perform a reading of the entire script. It was also the first time anyone actually got to see the full script, other than the director, Lane Drexler. It was a day many of us looked forward to.

The two leads in the film were Casper Kane and Amanda Hitchens. Their sidekicks were played by JoAnne Pitts, Greg Banks and Wendy Coleson, all actors and actresses who had played in bit players in television before. There were a couple other actors at the table who also would be in the film, but they weren't in any significant roles. However, they read any extra lines while at the table reading, so it helped moved things along to have them here. After introductions had been made, Lane Drexler, the director, got everyone straight to business.

"Albert wants a twenty-day shoot. I intend to do it in fifteen, so I expect all of you to know your lines and have the characters embedded in your head. After today's reading, we come back in two weeks to start shooting, while we finish story-boarding and set building."

Lane turned to me. "This is Hannah Puller. She's worked as a script girl on a couple TV series, even did one movie with my buddy, Felix. Anyway, we have a lot of extras in this thing, as well as all of you to manage, easy to fuck up continuity. Do me a favor and ensure you do what she says and that she logs all scenes with you. Don't want to have the kinds of errors we had with that last guy on American Made 6."

Some staff affirmed with nods, while the actors all agreed verbally. "Sure thing, boss.", "No problem, Lane." "Got it!" I was pleasantly surprised the director mentioned my role before beginning the table reading. It was going to be nice working with someone who appreciated the effort it took to handle this job.

Moments later, the cast was flying through the reading. I noticed the pages were being performed in fewer than 30 seconds and there was very little written in the script that would make them longer when filming and editing. That could be a problem.

On page 7 of the script, the "lead sidekick" character is first introduced to the audience through a wet dream he is having. He sees himself in an empty classroom with the teacher standing directly in front of him as he is seated.

"Adam, are you listening to me? Did you bring a number two pencil? Are you prepared for this test? Adam?"

Adam stares straight ahead, mouth aghast. The only thing in frame is his face. As the camera pulls back and the berating questions continue, we see an enormous pair of tits on the right. The yelling continues more as the camera is pulled further back. Just as the teacher's face is about to be seen, cut to...

Adam being awakened by his mother. She's screaming at him to get ready for school.

Throughout the script, the gag is repeated in various forms. Adam's shtick is his fetish for huge boobs, and one of the many female characters, Penny, who is crushing on him, appears to be flat-chested. The characters of Adam and Penny are both as supporting characters, but the dichotomy between the fantasy and reality of their parts had a humorous undertone, with a charming finish, and I thought their story was almost interesting as the leads' as the table reading continued.

Less than eighty minutes from when we started, we finished. I made note of that to the director, but he seemed unconcerned.

"No worries, it will fill out," he said. "Okay, everybody has seen their schedules for rehearsals. We begin shooting Monday after next. Be ready."

When I served as script girl on a low-budget feature a few years back, I actually assisted in casting. Considering this was an A-list production (if only barely), Karen Reynolds A.C.E. had been hired to do the work. The producer, Albert, was reportedly thrilled when they had successfully signed Casper Kane and Amanda Hitchens. They were both young actors coming out of two popular cable TV series. Casper was expected to have a very bright career and I knew he had made over a quarter million on this deal. Not bad for a few weeks of work.

I was surprised then, considering their youth and wealth, at how kindly they treated me and the rest of the crew, Casper especially. He was almost six foot tall, with a slim, athletic build and a head of light brunette hair that looked like Warhol and Picasso waged war with each other. Regardless, it worked.

I was also impressed with Casper's work ethic. He arrived on time, every time, and always knew his lines. He engaged with the crew during rehearsals, ensuring he understood our needs, as much as we did with him. His co-star, Greg Banks, seemed almost as nice, though he wasn't as talkative.

The director, Lane, seemed very happy with the crew, especially after the first official day of shooting. He wasn't so happy, however, after viewing some of the second unit's dailies from that same day. Two of the bits they filmed were where the sidekick, Adam, fantasized about big boobs being practically shoved in his face. I attended that first viewing of the dailies and remember Lane's aggravation clearly.

"What the fuck is this?" shouted Lane to George, the second unit director.

"What? It's who showed up. I thought you cleared the cast. Everybody knows who Diamond Dees is."

What Lane was so furious about was the actress who came on set to film the topless bits had very fake-looking boobs and considerable scarring. From what I understood, Diamond Dees was an internet sensation, and she toured strip clubs throughout the nation. She was notorious for having fake, oversized tits.

"Makeup can't fix those tits!" screamed Lane. "And I'm not about to spend money on CGI. We need these scenes in the bag to stay on schedule. I want this re-shot now!"

"Well, who am I supposed to use for the shot, Lane? The script specifically calls for "mountain-sized" tits. It's supposed to be a farce, Lane. Tits like that aren't real. Fake tits are fine for this shot."

"Not those fake tits," said Lane. "I don't care if they are real or fake, just get someone, anyone, with a better set of cans than those. Yes, the tits need to be huge, but they also need to be nice. This is a teen boy's fantasy, remember?"

"If I spend half my day tomorrow looking for someone, I'm not going to be able to shoot the basketball scenes we discussed. Then I'll really be behind."

I'd been listening diligently, but hadn't yet thought of any ideas to solving the problem. It was news to me that Lane was upset with George's work. Then Lane turned straight to me.

"Hannah. What about you?"

"Sorry, sir. I checked Diamond Dees in when she arrived and locked the scene. Always assumed she was what you wanted. I can call Reynolds and have them arrange another actress, but it might take a couple days. We could switch other stuff around, maybe."

"Yeah, but then I won't have what I want shot. Fucks up my entire schedule and system of thinking."

"You did plan for a five day buffer," I said, reminding him that the producer was okay with a twenty day shoot.

Lane looked a bit aggravated, not happy with that answer. "I don't miss deadlines, even my own. Anyway, it wasn't what I meant when I asked, 'What about you?'."

"I'm sorry."

"You, Hannah. You have enormous tits. Just go shoot the scenes with George and Greg. We don't even need other staff or actors in there for those scenes. No special lighting or sound needed, either. We could have them in the bag tonight."

My heart dropped. I try very hard to minimize the size of my tits, especially around colleagues. I was ashamed of my F cups. Every year, I promised myself I would pay for a reduction, but it seemed like I could never save up enough money, and my insurance wouldn't cover it.

I don't have a super thin waist, but in comparison to my tits, it was understandable. I had to have a hell of a core to hold these things up, after all. Usually, I wear dark sweaters and blouses that hang loosely, with bras that squeeze my tits a bit, to disguise their true size.

"I... I don't know..." I said. "My dad would kill me if he knew I went topless on screen, or even just pictures. He's a preacher."

Growing up in Idaho, it was a long way here. I'd still yet to sell a script I wrote myself )the real reason I came to Ho0llywood), but serving as script girl on productions did have some enjoyable moments. This wasn't one of them.

Lane looked at me with a frowning smirk. "Come on, Hannah. You know we never pan to the face with this gag. Who is going to know they are your tits?"

It was true. The whole bit was played off where no matter who Adam was fantasizing about (for instance: the teacher, a server in a cafe, a cheerleader, a cashier), the shot was framed to only show these gigantic tits staring the character of Adam in the face. The face was never shown.

"YOU will see my tits," I retorted. "So will Greg and George. And that one scene where the ENTIRE class is screaming at the character of Adam to wake up? Remember, it says for a moment that Adam believes the class sees what he does, so THEY will be filmed with him there, even if my face is edited out."

"Hannah, no one is going to take photos or video, or think any less of you. George will make sure not one frame catches your face. You'll save me from great anxiety, because George and you could probably knock out those first two ruined scenes tonight."

"He's right," says George. "Not much to move around on set to re-shoot them. We did it this morning, as you know."

I was feeling desperate. "Lane, I'm only getting paid a script girl's salary. You know SAG would be furious over this decision if they found out."

I was hoping I could blame my 'no' on the actor's guild.

"Oh fuck, I'll get you a union card tomorrow, our expense. I'll have Mindy handle the paperwork. I'll also have her pay you union wages for the nudity. That pays triple over other extras who have lines in the film."

About 1,800 a day, I thought. Wow, that would be nice. Maybe I could get that reduction sooner than later, I thought, even if these shots would likely be finished in two or three days.

"Okay," I said, refusing to think more over it. "So long as it does not interfere with my regular duties."

"Thank God!" shouted Lane. "You really are the best. George, go get things set up. I'll call Greg in."

An hour later, I was standing behind the door to the set in a robe. I wore my pants from earlier in the day, but had removed everything from the waist up.

"Come on in!" shouted George. I took a deep breath and entered.

Greg, playing the role of Adam, sat in the middle of a white room with a desk in the center. Everything else about the room was washed out, per the script. I was to stand in front of the desk, with my tits directly in front of Greg's eyes, while he just gawked at them in silence. George would shoot most of the scene from one angle, with Adam on the left and me on the right. He also wanted to take two panning shots around the entire set, for backup footage should Lane ever want it. It was to take no longer than a few minutes to do all this work, as George was sensitive to my modesty.

"Hey, Hannah," said Greg, as I approached him. "Thanks for doing this, I guess. I'm betting it isn't something you wanted to do."

I shook my head. "No, not really. I'm nervous."

"Don't be. I promise I'll get the scene right the first time, so we don't have to re-shoot anything."

I thanked him and with another deep breath, I slipped off the robe and handed it to George.

"My God," George said. "Those are torpedoes. Utterly perfect! They'll be stretching over the desk practically at your nose." He pointed at Greg who began giggling.

"Hey!" I said. "Not funny!"

"No, it is funny," said George. "You don't get how perfect those are for this character. Excuse me, but while your tits are awesome, they are almost unbelievable. You're a walking cartoon."

I didn't know whether to be insulted or what, but I turned beet red.

"Hannah, relax," said Greg. "Honestly, you're great. You're perfect. Do not be ashamed of those." He nodded at my boobs. "You have a very nice body. Please just take that as a compliment. Now, shall we get this over with?"

"I'd like that," I said.

George approached closer now. "OK, Hannah, step up to the desk. Your thighs will practically touch it. Stand very straight. Do not lean back, nor forward, but kind of stick your chest out, like in a marching band. The voice-over will do all the talking. I have tape of it."

I stood exactly as instructed, realizing my nipples were only eight or ten inches from Greg's mouth. He got into position, stretched his neck a bit, and then sat up. He opened his eyes wide and slowly, his mouth.

"Yeah, Greg. Just like that from earlier today," said George.

The we heard a voice over some speakers. It was female, firm, and loud. "Adam? Did you bring a number two pencil? I TOLD you to remember to bring a pencil. A number two pencil! This exam is important, Adam." It continued on.

Greg, playing the role of Adam, just utterly gawked at me while the voice-over played out. It was as if Greg was getting carte blance authority to perv on my tits. I knew he was acting, of course, but how could I really be sure? Drool started slipping out the side of his mouth.

"OK, that will do," said George. "Let me just position the camera and do the walk-arounds. Hannah, I'll be sure your face is never in frame, as we agreed."

"I trust you," I said. What choice did I have?

"Good job, Hannah," said Greg, looking up at me.

I was still standing right with my tits in my face and seeing him look past them, to meet my eyes, was an astonishing view. "Uh, thanks," I said.

A moment later, George had things re-positioned and within a couple minutes got the shots he needed. I noticed my panties were getting damper the longer I was subjected to Greg's ogling.

"We'll get the other shot first thing in the morning. I'll have the set switched to the diner. How about we come in an hour early to knock it out?"

We all agreed and I was somewhat relieved I no longer had to have my tits in someone's face for sophomoric amusement. I raced home, dreading the next morning.

__________

"Hannah, we need you to stand still."

It was the third time George tried to get a straight 30 second shot of me standing in front of Greg at the diner scene. He was seated in a chair, my tits even closer to his face now than yesterday. Greg had such a devious and perverted smile and I felt so used and humiliated.

I kept my anxiety to myself, but my pussy was throbbing. I didn't want to, but I'd inadvertently shifted my position a couple times to quell it, apparently ruining the long shots George was trying to get. This time, I looked up and closed my eyes. Maybe if I stopped watching Greg gawking at me like a shameless pervert, then I could get through this.

"I promise this time," I said. "I'll stay still."

This time I managed to hold my shit together and less than a minute later, George cut the scene. "You're doing great, Hannah. Just four more quick ones. Two tomorrow and one the next day."

I was shaking my head. This was going to suck, I thought. Why did my pussy get so wet while Greg stared at me like a piece of meat? My dad would be so disappointed. Thank God he would never know I went through this.

I managed to get through the rest of the day like any other, diligently pursuing my duties, locking scenes, and prepping extras and others for upcoming shots with the first and second unit teams. Lane and George decided to schedule my next two scenes the following day with Greg after everyone else left for the day, on a closed set. One was to be on a football field, so that would be on green screen.

The other was a scene where Adam daydreams while in a convenient store. The cashier's service area is raised behind the counter, like in many convenient stores for security purposes. Of course, the tits are at eye level to Greg, who actually has lines in this scene this time. The gag is the character isn't sure he is awake or dreaming.

I came in the following morning, dreading the day, knowing it would pass excruciatingly slowly (or perhaps too fast), before I was subjected to that humiliation again. 'Eighteen hundred dollars a day,' I thought. 'Just a couple more days.'

Lane caught me walking in. "Hannah!" he yelled, waving me toward him. He had the script in his hand and he was walking the staging area, but no one else was around so early this morning. Once I approached, he said, "Fantastic work! Utterly perfect. You should see the shots George got."

"Uh, thank you..." I managed. I hoped he wouldn't bring it up. I knew he knew those tits were mine, but it was an embarrassing thing to admit.

"George said you were kind of reserved and shy, but you pushed through. After seeing that tape, you were the perfect fit for this role. So proud of you."

I wasn't sure he was praising my work ethic or my tits. "Well, okay. I... just... I'm glad George is so fast and professional. Thank you for that." I wasn't sure what else to thank him for, other than the money. No way would I do this without that incentive.

"Of course. George will have the crew set up the convenient store set at the end of the day. We expect to shoot your stuff around 6 or 7 if we stay on track. He'll shoot your scenes in no time. Thanks again for stepping up. Really do appreciate it."

I had to admit, though I was going through some degree of humiliation, the staff of this production was the nicest I'd worked with. Many crews have members that are all out for themselves. These people seemed to support each other through and through.

I tried to ignore thinking about the inevitable as I worked through the day, but twice I almost forgot to snap pictures of sets and log them to scenes. I was definitely distracted and for good reason. Come 6:30, I was once again standing in a robe, on set, behind the counter of the convenient store. I had worked in white shorts and a long tee all day. The shorts covered plenty and I figured it would fit the topless look I was being subjected to.