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The Casting Couch

"Seduced on the casting couch"

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3.9k words 3.9k words

Author's Notes

"A story is written from one of three perspectives; first, second or third. The first-person point of view uses the pronouns "I," "me," "myself," "we," or "mine" to narrate a story, the second-person point of view uses the pronoun “you” or "your" to tell the story and the third-person point of view uses the pronouns "he," "she," "they," or "it". <p> [ADVERT] </p> Normally, the author chooses which point of view to use and sticks with it. Switching from one point of view to another can easily confuse the reader and for that reason, it’s used with care and caution. ‘The Casting Couch’ has been written in two parts. Part One is written from Anna’s point of view and Part Two from Daniel’s point of view."

Part 1 - Anna

June was the happiest and saddest month of my life. Graduating from university with a Bachelor of Science degree and being accepted by my hometown medical school made it the happiest, but my mom’s diminishing health and lack of money made it the saddest.

Even with grants, I was already deep in debt and was going to go further in debt with the cost of medical school. I’d already calculated the depth of my debt and how long it would take to pay off and had accepted that, but another need for money occurred, one that was time-sensitive.

My mom had a rare disease and the only place offering hope was a hospital in Florida. They reduced their fee and a go fund me account helped, but we were still short by almost one hundred thousand dollars.

One of my friends and classmate, Claire had joined an escort service and one of her regular clients paid for her apartment, one paid for her tuition and books and several others gave cash or gifts. She said a few of her regulars didn’t press her for sex, but some did. One guy had promised her a Lexus for a blow job and sure enough, two days after sucking him, a Lexus RS was parked outside her apartment.

Even though her values were far more liberal than mine, she was brilliant, out-going, kind and generous and who was I to judge. We studied together and after I’d confided in her about my need for money, she offered to give what cash she had and to sell her jewellery and car.

I accepted grants, but couldn’t take what she had earned.

Over a late-night drink with her, she said, “I hate that I fuck for money and I know what that makes me.”

I responded, “I don’t think I could have sex to pay for school, but I would to pay for my mom’s medical bills.”

“I can introduce you to my boss and see what she can do,” Clair said.

A week later, I was sitting across from a lady who spoke softly, smiled warmly, and could put the most nervous person at ease.

“Claire told me a little bit about your circumstances. I’m sorry to hear about your mother.”

“She spoke highly of you,” I said. “I never thought I’d ever considered doing something like this.”

She smiled. “Legally, it’s the position of my company that the service is for escort only and what happens during the escort time is up to the individuals involved.”

I nodded.

“You have lovely blonde hair and your blue-grey eyes sparkle. Your cheeks are high and your lips are lush and sexy. You’re bright and well-spoken and men would love to have you at your side … some women would as well,” she said and her lips creased in a smile.

I blushed lightly. I’d dated a few guys and gave up my virginity at nineteen, but studying was my main priority and on social media, there were several references about me as a tease and ice bitch.

“Off the record,” she said, “there are men who expect more than escort service and can be quite generous.”

“I wouldn’t normally think of doing something like that,” I said.

She touched my hand. “I have a small, select number of girls and guys that work with me and although I hadn’t planned to expand, I will accept you if you wish. But, I do extensive checks and normally it’s a six months process before I can match you with clients.”

‘That makes it easy,’ I thought. “I don’t have that amount of time.”

“I don’t recommend this for you, but two of my girls were talent in the porn industry and they said they made over a hundred thousand in less than a month. My investigators confirmed they performed in several adult films, but couldn’t confirm the amount they were paid.”

“I don’t think I could do that,” I said.

“I don’t think it’s for you either. Sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned it. My company may not be for you either, but I am interested and we can talk again.”

She gave me her card and although employment with her was preferred over porn, time was a major consideration.

Mom’s condition continued deteriorating and I searched the web for companies that filmed adult videos. There were none in my hometown but there were several sites located in Montreal and Toronto. One site in Toronto looked more professional than the others and I filled out their contact form, providing them with age, sex, and brief history.

The next morning I received an e-mail expressing their interest and requesting a telephone interview. I went for a long walk, debating in my mind if I should call the number or just forget about it and think of something else, however, there was nothing else.

The call went surprisingly well. The man was understanding, patient and answered all questions posed to him. They were expanding and looking for new talent right away. He spoke about the safety precautions and the testing performed on all the talent and I could make between $800 - $1,500 per scene.

He offered an all-expense trip to Toronto for an on-site interview and within a day or two would be advised on whether I would be accepted or not. I agreed and an interview was scheduled for Tuesday.

I hated lying to my mom and told her that I was visiting a friend for a few days and would back on Wednesday. She drove me to the train station and I spent Monday afternoon and evening driving myself crazy, questioning my sanity. But, I thought it was only an interview and could back out at any time.

I had an early lunch delivered to my hotel room and after eating half of it I showered, slipped on my white top with a long bow and polka dots, a knee-length black skirt and black flats.

I was nervous on the walk to the interview but felt a bit at ease by the tall, modern building that the interview was booked at. I rode the elevator to the 17th Floor and turned right, stopping at Office #1748. The plaque on the door read, Daniel Entertainment.

I tapped lightly on the door and a moment later it was opened by a man in his late twenties or early thirties. He reached out his hand, “Hello. Anna, I presume.”

I took his hand. His grip was firm but not overly so.

“Yes,” I said. “Daniel, I presume.”

He laughed. “Just like on the sign,” and he pointed to the door,

Daniel was tall with dark hair and brown eyes. He was wearing a light blue shirt and tanned khaki pants. His broad shoulders, muscular arms, and slender hips indicated he spent many hours at the gym.

“Come in. Have a seat,” and he pointed to a white leather couch.

The couch sat against one wall, in the corner, there was a palm tree and beside it, a white leather lazy boy chair in front of the windows. In front of the opposite wall was a large wooden desk with a laptop in the centre, a camera on a stand to the right and another camera on the left.

Daniel sat on the edge of the desk. “Hope you like the hotel we booked for you and that you tried their pancakes for breakfast.”

“The hotel is fantastic, but I just had toast and coffee for breakfast.”

“Your application has you at twenty-one, but you look eighteen. As I requested, did you bring proof of age with you?”

“Yes, of course,” I said and reached inside my purse, handing my birth certificate to him.

“You understand, we have to be careful and screen out underage girls.”

“Yes of course,” I said.

“You have a nice personality; the camera will love you.”

“Thanks. Like I said over the phone, I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t modelled. You’re beautiful, tall, and slender. Just what agencies are looking for.”

“It never really crossed my mind. Too busy sticking my nose in school books.”

He laughed. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Water, if you have any.”

“Sure, coming right up.”

Daniel walked to the opposite corner of the office and returned with two bottles of water and handed one to me.

“Do you mind if I take a few photos of you while we talk?” he asked.

“No, I don’t mind,” and I twisted the top off and took a long sip. The water was ice cold and refreshing.

Daniel took a few photos and was flipping through them on the camera screen.

“You have a great look. As I said, I’m like a middleman between the producers and the talent and I’ve built up a reputation of providing them with first-class talent, both guys and ladies.”

“Do you think they would be interested in me?” I asked.

“It’s possible, there is more demand for girls than guys, but there are more girls that are looking for the money this type of work can provide.”

“Over the phone, you gave a range of eight to fifteen hundred dollars a scene.”

“Yes. It depends on whether it’s a guy/ girl scene, a girl/ girl scene, or a group scene. Things like that and more money for other things.”

“What other things?” I asked.

“For example, anal, or BDSM scenes. Would you be interested in anal? Have you ever done anal?”

This conversation was taking a different turn than the interview on the phone and I didn’t want to open up about my sex life, but after some thought, it seemed a legitimate question.

“No, I’ve never done anal and don’t have any interest in doing that.”

“Okay. That’s nice to know and there is no pressure to do anything that you are uncomfortable with. How about girl scenes. Have you ever had sex with another girl?”

“No. Unless one kiss after too many drinks can be counted as lesbian sex.”

His face lit up into a smile. “I’ll take that as a no. A girl on girl scene doesn’t pay as much as a guy and a girl, but if you have any interest, I can let the producers know.”

“Anal is out, but being with another girl isn’t out of the question.”

“Good. Now, could you stand and allow me to take a few more photos?”

“Sure,” I said.

“And how about if I start a video?” and he pointed to the camera on the stand.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Sure, it’s fine.”

“Great.”

I stood while Daniel turned on the video camera and then began to snap photos of me.

“Can you turn, so I can get all sides?”

I thought for a moment. “Okay,” and slowly turned until I’d gone completely around.

“Just to make sure you’re comfortable in front of the camera, could you please remove your top?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

“It’s up to you, but I’ve got more interviews and only so many positions to fill.”

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I was wearing a bra, so taking off my top didn’t seem like an incredibly big deal. I unbuttoned my top, slipped it off and placed it on the arm of the couch.

“The frills and the tiny bow in the middle are sexy looking,” Daniel said. “The camera loves you, you look so sexy and relaxed.”

“Then I’m fooling the camera. I don’t feel very relaxed.”

“No different than wearing a bikini top on the beach.”

“I suppose.”

“Can you turn around again?”

I turned slowly, feeling more relaxed but questioning my decision to pursue this any further.

“Would you be okay with taking off your bra?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I whispered.

“I understand. I’ve done this a thousand times and this is the point that talent makes up their mind on whether to continue or leave. You are more than welcome to leave and I wish you nothing but the best and you are more than welcome to stay and take the first step to some big money.”

I had gone this far and I did need the money. My fingers trembled as I reached behind, unsnapped my bra and slid it down my arms.

“Oh my goodness!! They are so incredibly sexy. May I?”

I stood in stunned silence as his hand reached out and the tips of his fingers brushed over my soft, light brown nipple.

He rubbed in circles and pinched gently, which made my nipple poke out and stiffen. He pinched and pulled slightly harder, causing my nipple to go rock hard.

“I see it’s quite sensitive.”

“Yes, very,” I responded.

“Can you shake for me?”

“Seriously?” I asked.

He nodded, yes.

I twisted my upper body from side to side and my breasts bounced for his camera and possibly his pleasure.

When I stopped, he cupped both my breasts, rubbed his thumbs over my nipples and then tweaked my other nipple, making it poke out and become as tight and hard as the other.

“The producers will love this,” and his pinch sent a ripple through my body. “They would also love to see you without a skirt on.”

Girls can easily tell when a guy is aroused and with hard nipples, my arousal was exposed to his experienced eyes. But I wasn’t aroused enough to show him my panties.

“It’s okay Anna. You’ve gone this far and it’s just like going topless at a pool.”

I think if I was wearing a thong I would have said no, but I was wearing a pair of black lace hipsters that covered more than a bikini. I reached back, unbuttoned and unzipped my skirt and let it drop to the floor.

“Nice long legs and tanned. You can sit back on the couch if you like.”

“Thank you.”

Daniel moved the camera to the centre of the desk and pointed directly at me.

“Do you masturbate?” he asked.

“Uhm. Yeah. Sometimes. Not often.”

He grinned. “It’s not a sin to masturbate. I’d never go to heaven if it was.”

“Would any guy go to heaven,” I teased.

He laughed. “Maybe one or two, but no more than that.” He took a sip from his water and I did the same.

“You’re doing fine. If you get accepted, the producers will expect you to touch yourself and to touch the male or female talent as well. If you can’t do it here, you may not be able to do it on set.”

“You want me to touch myself?” I asked.

“Yes. Over your panties is fine.”

He was right. If I couldn’t do it here, how could I do it in front of a group of people? I parted my legs slowly, lowered my hand and ran my fingers up and down the length of my slit.

I wasn’t wet, but there was a slight warmth beginning to swirl. Daniel moved, taking more photos and I began to tune him out as my fingers touched over the spots that gave the most pleasure.

I heard a voice, soft and muffled like through a mist. “Slip your fingers inside your panties.”

After a few more times, I let my fingers slide under my panties and along my bare slit. My lips had become swollen and at the bottom of my lips, wetness had seeped out. I rubbed up and down, my fingers sliding easily through my self-made wetness.

My finger brushed over my clit and I pulled my panties aside, giving me more freedom to touch, but at the expense of exposing myself. My outer lips folded open and from my touch, my clit had engorged and escaped from its sheltered hood.

“Anna. Take them off,” a voice whispered.

As if in a trance, I slipped them off and returned my fingers to my now soaking pussy.

“May I?” and I felt a finger brush over my clit. His finger swayed down like a feather and circled my entrance. My hips arched gently up and he dipped part of his finger into me.

My eyes remained closed and I gasped when a soft pair of lips caressed my clit. Only my last boyfriend had gone down on me and both times were nice, but nothing compared to this.

His lips knew just what to do and his tongue lapped over with such expertise. My hips arched up and soft whimpers escaped my lips. His licks were divine and wetness gushed as his tongue fucked my hole.

I whimpered in frustration as he moved back and opened my eyes to see him strip off his shirt. He unsnapped his pants, unzipped and lowered them. The bulge inside his boxers looked massive and massive it was as he dropped his boxers and freed his cock.

Unlike the three other cocks I’d seen, this one was longer, thicker around and had skin that covered the head. He also had a patch of brown curly hair above, that looked so incredibly manly.

“Do you like sucking cock?” he asked.

“Yes,” I whispered breathlessly.

“Show me.”

I liked the few times I did it and the two guys loved it. He held the camera towards me and I leaned, pressing my lips to the tip of his cock.

He rubbed it over my face, moving from cheek to cheek and then stopped when his balls pressed to my lips. His scent was all male and my tongue timidly slipped out and touched his ball sack.

“Good girl. Lick my balls.”

This I’d never done before. Daniel trimmed his pubic hair and shaved his sack and it felt so weird for my tongue to feel soft skin and the form of his testicles.

He arched his hips and his male scent became even more powerful and I licked the underside of his sack, over and over, making slurpy wet sounds. His hand rubbed over my shoulder and he guided me until I was leaning against the back of the couch.

He shuffled my hips until they were at the edge of the couch and while one handheld the camera, the other guided his cock to my pussy. I’d only had sex a few times and compared to his, the others were small.

The other times had been missionary style and in the dark, this time I saw and felt it rubbing over my entrance and then pressing, easing, teasing.

I arched my hips in frustration.

He smiled.

“You want it?”

I bit my lower lip. “Yes. Yessss.”

His cock head slipped inside and I gasped in pleasure. My head went from side to side as he slowly filled me. I couldn’t possibly stretch wider and he couldn’t possibly go deeper. In reflex, my pussy massaged the length of his cock.

He withdrew almost out of me and then slowly went back in until the tip of his cock touched my cervix. He went again and again, increasing speed with each thrust.

My toes curled, my fingers curled and my mind and body exploded. Every fibre in my body tingled as my orgasm rushed through me like a freight train.

Before I realized what had happened, I was off the couch and bent over the table where his laptop once was. A spank cracked over one cheek and just as quickly his hand spanked my other cheek.

“Spread your legs,” he demanded.

A glowing warmth washed over my bottom and two more spanks spread more tingles and heat over my rounded cheeks.

He guided my legs open with his foot and I willingly parted more for him.

This time there was no warning or gentleness as he thrust his manhood into me. I grunted in extreme pleasure as he thrust again and again, causing my body to tighten and shiver as hard as before.

Electric sparks shot through me, sending sparkling colours through my misty eyes. He continued his onslaught as my body accepted and craved every inch of him. He pulled on my hair, tilting my head back and his body stilled.

He grunted like a wild animal and along my vaginal walls, I felt his cock expand even more and then felt it pulse.

Nature. A man and a woman mating. A man seeding his woman, filling me with his sperm, his essence.

I whimpered while feeling more and more of his hot fluid inside me, ripples of orgasm adding to my delight.

He stayed still over me, perhaps his way of ensuring that billions of his sperm would swim to my egg.

I drifted to sleep, only waking when his flaccid cock slipped out.

He began to dress and when I stood, liquid tickled and flowed down my legs. Some may have been mine, but from the scent, the colour and the texture most was his.

“Damn it. Damn it,” I repeated.

He opened the desk drawer, took out a box of Kleenex and offered a handful to me.

“I’m not on the pill.”

“Why didn’t you say something. I would’ve worn a condom.”

“A condom,” I hissed. “I didn’t exactly plan this to happen.”

“Here, let me help,” and he reached over with a tissue in his hand.

I stepped back. “Don’t touch me.”

“You look sexy hot,” he said.

“Arghhh. Only a guy would think cum dripping down a leg is hot.”

“You liked it when it shot out.”

My pussy was still pulsing and tingles still danced over my lips. I slipped on my clothes and finished my bottle of water.

“Will you take the morning after pill?”

“Yes, of course. Pregnancy is not in my plans right now.”

“Here’s my card, I’ll contact you tomorrow or the day after.”

I took the card, went back to the hotel, had a late dinner, a bath, and bed. Mom picked me up at the train station and on the way home she stopped at the store and I bought the morning after pill, milk, bread, and a lottery ticket.

Three days passed and I never heard a word and on the fourth day, I tried the number on his business card. I got the message - the number is no longer in service.

Returning to that office in Toronto would confirm that it no longer existed and I didn’t need that to prove I’d been scammed for sex. I cursed myself for being so stupid.

On Saturday, mom asked me to refill one of her prescriptions and after I picked it up, I scanned my lottery ticket. Normally, the scanner showed this is not a winner and occasionally I got a few bells, indicating a free ticket or $10, but this time the bells rang along with whistles and a voice repeated - Big Winner, Big Winner.

Weeks later, I was back in Toronto, this time with my mother. The lottery office presented me with a check for fifteen million dollars.

Thank you fate. Thank you, Daniel. 

 

 

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Written by Rileyhi
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