Pam had parked her Range Rover in back of the metal building. The building looked like it had been a body shop at one time, judging by all of the various automotive pieces lying around in rusting heaps. Ginger still thought that it was an odd place for an audition but she remembered that she had been to stranger places than this. Still, in this part of town and at this time of night, it was a little creepy. Suddenly a deep baritone voice rang out from behind the two women.
"Film location."
Both girls whirled around and squealed in fright.
"Jesus! Masterson, you did that on purpose!" Pam admonished, "It's not enough that you have us driving all the way out here, you have to scare us to death too?"
The man that had been the source of the voice laughed good-naturedly and stepped forward to greet them.
"I'm sorry Pam, I didn't mean to really. It's just that I noticed you wondering about this place so I was just explaining. I'm also scouting film locations on this trip and this is the last one on my list."
He turned to face Ginger with an appreciative smile, "You must be Ginger!" he said, extending his hand, "I'm Bill Masterson. Thanks for coming out on such short notice!"
Ginger took the hand, "Glad to meet you Bill! Do you always work the hours between sundown and sun up?"
"Sure, it's the only way to beat the traffic in this town!" he shot back with a grin.
Ginger had noticed that the man calling himself Bill Masterson carried himself with an ease that spoke of self-assured confidence. And she could see where it came from. He had what she would refer to as "devilish good looks". Dark, penetrating and intelligent eyes, a hawk-like nose, and a strong jaw framed by a well-trimmed beard all combined to make him very pleasant to look at. His tasteful, dark blue suit told her that he was careful about choosing his tailor. But most importantly she could feel the tremendous strength in his hand when she shook it. She thought that he must be carved out of stone underneath that conservative business suit he was wearing.
He looked Ginger up and down appreciatively.
"Well Pam," he said, "You were right. The pictures didn't even do her justice. She's beautiful, undiscovered, and exactly what we're looking for!"
"Quit trying to butter her up Bill, you're still going to have to deal with me." Pam joked in what Ginger recognized as the traditional agent/ casting director ritual. It had always reminded her of a used car salesman or a horse trader scenario, and in a way it was, Ginger being the used car that they would be haggling over.
Ginger's business was, in point of fact, Ginger. She had long since gotten over the fact that as an actress and a model she was a commodity to be bought and sold, or at least rented. And Pam's business was Ginger's as well. Her job was to negotiate the best possible price and conditions for her client's time for which services she received a percentage of everything that Ginger made.
"Don't worry Pam, I think you will be very happy when it gets around to the bottom line."
"I've heard that before, you sweet-talker!"
"Well, before we talk package why don't you ladies come inside for some coffee and I can show our beautiful, up and comer what we have in store for her?" With that he opened a door at the back of the building and let the girls follow him inside.
After stopping by a small kitchen area for coffee he escorted them down a hallway past several doors to a simply furnished room that contained a desk, and three chairs. At the back of the room there was a large television set mounted on the wall. They talked and joked the entire time. Masterson explained that the people he was working for were looking for someone with star presence but that was as of yet undiscovered, a "fresh face" as they say in the trade.
"I don't know how much Pam has told you about this, but we really are looking at a potentially long term gig here, this could become a series of national spots. I don't think that I have to tell you what kind of an opportunity this could be for the right talent."
"Pam did say something about a national campaign but I would love to hear the details, naturally." Said Ginger, trying desperately to hide her excitement. Pam got up and headed for the door.
"You two go ahead." She said with a wink to Ginger, "I need to go to the ladies' room. Don't sign anything while I'm gone."
After Pam had left, Masterson turned to Ginger and fixed her with his piercing gaze.
"You know, I could sit here until the sun came up babbling about this project but I'm not going to." He said, "Do you know why?"
"No. Why?" she responded. Ginger found his manner amusing. He had a touch of the salesman in his approach that she thought was a bit over-the-top but it was still compelling nevertheless.
"Because a picture is worth a thousand words." He replied, "And I have a picture to show you right here."
"Now just sit back and watch this clip. It should give you a pretty good idea of what we have in mind for you." He pointed a remote at the television set on the far side of the room and the screen flickered into life.
What Ginger saw on the screen confused her at first. She had been expecting a rough cut of a commercial, with perhaps some dialog from a director discussing concepts and ideas to fill in the details that weren't there yet. That wasn't what was there however. The image that filled the screen was that of a small pair of hands, a woman's hands, wrapped in coils of hemp rope that rose up out of the shot to tie off somewhere above. The sounds of muffled grunts could be heard as well. As the camera panned down and slowly zoomed out, the arms that attached to the hands also came into view. They had been tied tightly together at the elbows with more of the cruel hemp rope. The camera stopped zooming out when the face of a young, attractive, brunette came into view. Her face was partially obscured by the tight leather strap that was being used to hold some sort of prod in her mouth.
Ginger could still tell that the brutally gagged girl on the screen was beautiful in spite of the fact that her face was twisted in pain and drenched with perspiration. She had perfect, creamy, white skin and emerald green eyes that were pouring out tears. Either the girl was an excellent actress or she was really distressed, judging by the tortured look in her eyes and the squeals and moans that were emanating from behind her gag.
The camera started moving again. Ginger gasped at what it now panned back to reveal. A powerfully built man in a ski mask was kneeling next to the naked girl with one arm wrapped around her right leg and the other at her crotch. He was pumping what appeared to be a huge, black dildo in and out of her vagina. As Ginger watched the man pulled the rod all the way out to reveal ten inches of hardened rubber which he licked up and down before jamming it back into her pussy up to the hilt.
Ginger looked from the screen to Mr. Masterson with a disgusted frown wrinkling her pretty features.
"Is this some sort of joke?" she stammered in surprise, "I would never even dream of doing something like this!"
Masterson had simply sat back, calmly sipping his coffee, as he continued to stare at the screen. Without glancing at her he had said quietly, "Oh I'm sure that you'll surprise yourself."
"This is outrageous! I can't imagine what could have made you think that I… I have never been so insulted in my life!"
"Well, you're still young and inexperienced as of yet." He said, again without looking at her. Something about his demeanor was disturbing to Ginger. He seemed to be amused by her shock and anger and yet indifferent on some level. As though he was waiting for something, a bus or a train perhaps, and he was simply passing the time with her in conversation about the weather.
"What?!" the fact that he could just sit and casually provoke her in such an offhand way momentarily enraged the young actress beyond words. "Well let's just say, FUCK YOU! You asshole, don't bother showing me the way out!"
Ginger stood up with every intention of storming right out of the room in a tempest of righteous indignation. However, as soon as she rose up, she felt a sudden rush of blood to her head. She had been too distracted to notice it at first, but a warm tingling sensation had been creeping over her body. While she had remained seated this feeling had remained in the background, but upon suddenly standing up it had hit her like a quart of Jack Daniel's. She wavered and almost lost her balance, only saving herself from falling by grabbing the edge of the table. As her hand unsteadily reached out it knocked her empty coffee cup to the floor where it shattered into little pieces at her feet. To Ginger's disbelieving eyes it seemed to fall in agonizing slow motion, falling end over end for what seemed like an eternity. The room felt as if it were tilting around her and numbness was spreading through her legs. As she turned her face up from the cup to gaze at Masterson, realization slowly began to replace bewilderment in her beautiful, blue eyes.
"Fuck me? Hmm…" he finally swiveled in his chair to look at her tottering form, "Well, I'm sure that we could find the time for that as well, now that you mention it." He was smiling like the proverbial cat that ate the canary.
