One
The branches snapped behind her and she quickened her pace. She could hear them in the tree line, just out of sight, but the beasts never showed themselves. They were waiting for her to falter, to take one mis-step and fall to the snow. She would not give them the satisfaction. She moved on, forward, seeking the safety of the castle, knowing that she only needed to get across the drawbridge. Hearing only her ragged breathing, she stopped and listened.
Her bare skin, covered in gooseflesh, tightened at the lack of activity and the inner heat she generated. Sensing the attack at a primal level, she spun to meet her demise with fierce fighting, she had not made it far enough. The claws of the beast n didn’t’ even feel the flesh they pulled from the bone, so sharp were they. The pain caused her eyes to blur as she raised her feeble arms against the onslaught. She felt the warms of her blood poor down her belly and as she looked, she thought that it matched her cape nicely. Falling to the stained snow, she did not see the rider approaching or hear the solid thud as the spear killed the beast. She felt only darkness. Hours, minutes, or years passed until she could open her eyes but she felt cold and knew she was dead.
“Come back to us Red” a voice beckoned.
“Ah, brave woodsman,” she moaned with pain and relief, “You came for me after all.”
However, as her eyes cleared she saw that it was not the rough-hewn woodsman at all, the long raven hair and the soft eyes revealed the daughter of her betrayer, and she knew her future had changed.
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Two
Damn it was cold.
She walked along cursing him, his car, his idiot girlfriend, but most of all herself. How did she let this happen. Freezing, abandoned, almost naked, fuck that, naked in the middle of the snow covered countryside. Damn it. She looked back over her shoulder as she heard the car approach, sensing her nakedness afresh, she covered herself, pulling the shawl tightly around her, some kind of erotic Red riding hood, she thought to herself. The car, it’s snow tires eating huge mouthfuls of snow with each rotation slowed to a stop, a tinted window slowly rolled down.
“You look lost Missy.”
“I am, my friends…..”
The window rolled back up and the car idled.
“WTF” she thought to herself.
The window rolled back down again. “Where are you headed?” She couldn’t see inside the darkened cab, but the voice grumbled like last night’s bad dinner and its bass notes made her shiver from feelings other than cold.
“My friends were arguing and drinking and I couldn’t stay in their car for another minute. “ She tried to keep the tears our of her voice, “I thought the hotel was closer.”
She couldn’t see in, but felt her eyes upon her cleavage that had exposed itself as her arms shivered in the cold. Her taut nipples exposed, she decided not to cover up, hoping for a ride more than modesty.
“Cover up missy.” The voice tumbled out of the cab like chunks of hard coal. “I’ll send help.”
Snow flew from his back tires as she yelled out “Wait” in frustration and futility, but her yells stopped when she saw the logo on the tailgate of his rust colored truck.
“Lycanthropes need love too.”
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Three
The set was amazing, the snow was soft and fluffy and the trees were real, heavy, and potted in rich dirt. She was grateful to be on a real set with a real director. Her wardrobe was a simple red cloak, which highlighted her dark hair and ruby lips. She was perfect for the part of Red Riding Hood, and she was glad she arrived early for rehearsal. Most adult sets ere crap, cheap hotel rooms and abandoned houses with hijacked electricity, but this was the real deal.
When she saw him enter the sound stage, she gasped and felt herself dampen. He saw her and smiled, “you must be Little Red.” She nodded silently and thanked her fairy godmother, he was tall and handsome, and though he looked silly in his motion capture suite, she could see a sizable package where it counted.
“Shall we rehearse?” she said?
A quizzical look crossed his face but he recovered and she stifled it with a kiss and her hand running down his chest.
She pulled his lips to her neck as she stroked him through the bright green material, feeling him harden as her own body prepared itself. She knelt in the FauxSnow™ and bit at his hard cock, frustrated and wet.
With a flick of her wrist, she unclasped the cape, laid it on the soft layer of white, and laid back, opening and offering herself to him. He needed no second invitation. As they coupled, her body was taken to new heights. His touch was tender, attentive, his kisses soft and sincere, and unlike 90% of her other scenes, her orgasm was real, deep, and meaningful.
She felt him release deep inside her and she held him tightly in her arms. She felt his weight on her and whispered in his ears that he was too nice for this kind of work. He smiled and rolled off her and stood and helped her to her feet. She stood on tiptoes and kissed him. "I look forward to shooting with you for real", she said, feeling almost giddy as his memory dripped from within her.
“Get off my stage!!” and angry voice bellowed and her co-star sprinted through the far door.
He walked through the door and vanished.
An angry little man in a wolf’s costume with a crudely enlarged phallus sewn on stomped and screamed. Who was that? He demanded. And look at your cape, it’s ruined, and AAAGH, who messed up my snow?
His graying skin jiggled under the suit as she tried to speak.
“That was my costar, right?” she asked as the horrible truth dawned on her.
"Are you kidding?” the pock marks on his face were highlighted as he yelled further, “Do you think porn can afford motion-capture? That’s for the big shots next door. I’m the wolf.” He hollered as she told herself, again, that she had to get out of the business once and for all.
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OK, three long ones this week, too long probably, without the precision of an upper limit (my choice) and bounded only by the time I had on the bus ride home today, I wrote three takes on what I think is a great pictures. Thanks Max.
The fairy tale mythos will be taken a dozen different directions if we get the regular players, writers with a deeper knowledge of the lexicon and the nuances of multiple versions and more time to tighten it up.
I liked all three and thought about spreading them out over multiple days, but that seemed like padding my posting schedule and I'm not sure if they stand on their own as strong pieces.
So thanks, again, Max for prodding us along.
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