Work Text:
Charles looked up as his work was once again interrupted. “Yes? What is it this time?”
Pickles had been elected spokesperson. “We’ve decided thet we’re gonna make a porno, so we need ta get sahm hawt chicks ta star in it.”
“I’m afraid that’s out of the question, I really can’t allow it. Now I’m very busy here, running your empire and all that, so run along.”
When he took that tone, they knew there was no point in arguing. The retreated to their previously chosen filming studio (an empty room with a video camera in it) to think.
“Schrew thish, we don’t need chicksh! One of you can pretend to be the chick. I’ll be Ron Jeremy, I look jusht like him.”
“Dude, I’ll be tha director. Fuck it, let’s do this anyway, he can’t tell us what ta do. Skwisgaar can be tha chick, we’ll jest put a bra on ‘em.”
“Heys! Whys me? Makes Toki does it!”
“But Skwisgaar, I gots face hairs, goils don’t!”
Skwisgaar wasn’t budging. “Okays, we shaves Toki, and makes him be de ladies.”
Nathan intervened. “Uh, no. Even if we shave him, Toki does not look like a fucking lady. And I sure as hell don’t either, so you’re it. You can be, uh... Jesse Jane. She’s hot, and skinny. And blonde.”
“Cans we at least makes him wears de condoms?”
“Schure, I wouldn’t touch you without one, you schlut.”
Pickles, as director, started directing. “Okie, sahmbody find a bra that’ll fit Skwisgaar, and maybe sahm panties or sahmthin’. We can’t have ‘em wavin’ all over tha place. Nathan, we’ll throw a blanket over ya an’ ya can be tha couch. Toki... ya can be tha cameraman, okie?
“Okays.”
“Couch?! Seriously, I’m the couch?”
“Yep. Let’s git tha crap an’ meet back here in a few minutes. Oh, and sahmbody grab sahm lube, he’ll probably need it.”
The all left, to collect whatever discarded lingerie that had in their possessions. Groupies tended to leave stuff quite often, but the cleaning crew disposed of it on a regular basis. However, it had been a few days since the last cleaning, so there was some selection. Hopefully something would fit.
They returned, carrying assorted lingerie, lube, some sheets and blankets, vodka, and band-aids. And Toki had even found a forgotten pink lipstick, which they all now insisted that Skwisgaar wear, and a handful of leftover balloons from Rockso’s last visit, to make boobs with.
They all drank all the vodka and helped in dressing Skwisgaar, holding things up and discarding the ones that obviously wouldn’t fit. Finally, he was dressed in red panties and a blue bra. Pickles expertly applied the lipstick, and Toki inflated two balloons to fit in the bra.
Skwisgaar didn’t really look much like a chick, but he looked more like one than any of them would have. It would have to do.
Pickles positioned Nathan on his hands and knees where there was good light, and threw a black sheet over him, covering him completely.
“Uh, am I allowed to talk?” the sheet covered lump wanted to know.
“Yah sure. We’ll put a soundtrack or sahmthin’ on it later.”
Murderface stripped, and started sticking the band-aids to his stomach.
“Dude, what tha fuck are ya doin’?”
“Well you shee, Ron Jeremy doeshn’t have tattoosh on hish sthomach.”
“I don’t think he’s gat band-aids on it either, especially naught... are those Care Bears?”
“It’sh all I could find.”
“Fine, whatever, have fun pullin' those off later. Skwisgaar, go sit on Nathan and look sexy.”
“Pfft, I always looks sexy.” He sat on the “couch” and crossed his legs.
“Okie Murderface, go kiss him.”
“Do I have to? He’sh probably got all kindsh of germsh.”
Pickles sighed. “Alcohol kills germs, vodka is alcohol, you both jest drank a lot of it. Ya gat nothin’ ta worry about, kiss him. Toki, you filming?”
“Sures am.”
Murderface walked over and started the kissing. Skwisgaar played his part well, now that he was resigned to it, responding eagerly.
“Hey, can I play with hish titsh?”
“Yah sure, go ahead.”
“I’m starting to think I’m maybe better off not being able to see this,” said the couch.
“Heh, Skwisgaar’s a natural at this shit. Toki, zoom in sahm, git some closeups.”
Then there was a popping sound. “Ahh! He pops my boobie!”
“Heh. Thet’s okie, we gat spares.” Pickles quickly inflated another balloon and stuffed it in the bra.
“Dey’s not even de same sizes now!”
“Ah, shaddup. Turn ‘round and bend over tha couch. Murderface, ya ready? Gat yer condom?”
“Yesh.”
Skwisgaar changed positions, causing the couch to complain. “Hey, he’s like, poking me in the side!”
“Shuts up furnitures, I gots to rub on somethings here.”
“Nathan, ignore it. Murderface, here’s sahm lube. Toki, make sure ya gat a good angle.”
“Don’t worries, I watch enough porn to knows how to do this rights.”
Murderface pulled the panties down enough for access, put on the condom, and poured on some lube. Skwisgaar continued to squirm, causing the couch to grunt in disapproval.
“Hurries up and fucks me before I gets sober and wants to kill myselfs.”
Murderface got into position, and gently shoved his dick in.
“Okie, Skwisgaar? I need ya to look over yer shoulder at Toki, an’ make sexy faces. An’ ya know, fake an orgams or sahmthin’.”
“Why can’ts I just has a reals one?”
“Fuck it dude, go fer it if ya want ta.”
Toki was standing practically on top of them, camera positioned to get some nice footage of Murderface’s lumpy, warped dick sliding in and out of Skwisgaar’s very lubed asshole.
“Good... good. Toki, that’s par’bly ‘nough of that, back up now. Skwisgaar, let’s see those faces.”
Skwisgaar complied, tossing his hair and licking his lips for the camera, really getting into his acting. “Fucks me you hairy beast, harders! Ja, gives it to me!” He kept grinding against the couch, clearly enjoying the friction. The couch just growled.
And then it became clear that it wasn’t just all an act, as the couch suddenly yelled, “AGH! IT’S SOAKING THROUGH MY SHIRT!”
Toki started laughing hard enough to make the camera wobble, Skwisgaar just looked smug.
“Oh gawd... This is fucked up. Murderface, when yer ready, whip off tha condom an’ jizz on his back.
“And try to miss me!” added the couch.
“Toki, git ready ta catch tha money shot.”
Murderface pounded harder, causing more objections from the couch. Then, with as much flourish as he could muster, he pulled out and yanked off the condom, spattering Skwisgaar’s back.
After giving a congratulatory smack on the ass, he stood up. Skwisgaar pulled up his panties and stood as well.
The couch slowly straightened, rubbing his back and complaining of knee pain.
Toki panned the camera around slowly before shutting it off.
They left the room, detouring for more alcohol on their way to go mix their movie.
****
That night, Charles found a box outside his door, with a note attached. Bringing it inside, he recognized Nathan’s handwriting: “You can’t tell us what to do.”
In the box was a single unmarked disc. Their little porno, no doubt. Well, this would be a fine legal mess to ruin the rest of his evening with. With a resigned sigh, he popped it in the player.
Horrible porno music started, they must have just googled some. You’d really think musicians would have better taste, but no. On the screen, there was only a humanoid shape under a black sheet. What the hell?
Then Skwisgaar walked into the frame, wearing an appropriately stuffed bra and unfortunately stuffed panties, and sat on the sheeted... thing.
Charles watched in horror as Murderface swaggered into the scene, naked and sporting a very strange assortment of band-aids. He watched them kiss, and saw Skwisgaar’s right balloon boob pop. There was a cut, and then Skwisgaar, boob restored (and mismatched), was turning to bend over what he was becoming increasingly sure was Nathan.
He watched them fuck, completely out of sync with the horrible music. It was truly awful, but he just couldn’t look away. They both glanced to the side repeatedly, clearly being directed. Charles correctly assumed that it was probably Pickles, which left Toki as the likely cameraman.
Soon they were done, although the horrible music continued. Murderface stood up and bowed to the camera. Skwisgaar, still wearing his lingerie, did the same.
The sheeted thing erupted to reveal a scowling Nathan, clearly not happy about his role as furniture.
The camera panned to the side, and Pickled took a bow as well. Then there was much shaking as it was turned around, for an extreme close up of a happily waving Toki.
And then it went dark, and fortunately the music finally stopped as well.
Charles was, among many other things, relieved. With no outside parties involved, there was no need to legally do anything.
Which was good, because he really didn’t want to think very hard about what he’d just seen.
Or think about it at all, really.
Stop thinking...