Chapter 6

SO, NUDIE PRODUCTIONS WAS LAUNCHED. The amateur players made up what they lacked in experience by interpreting the roles in their own uninhibited style.

Jerry and Bev were the first to make their debut in show biz. She had chosen a play that was tailor-made for Jerry's particular fetish. She was supposed to be his mother in the sketch, which called for a vivid imagination on the part, of the audience.

Jerry played a teen-ager, and the scene opened with him reclining on the couch, masturbating. Bev, portraying his mother, walked in and caught him in the act.

There action unfolded as follows:

Bev: "Jerry! What have you been doing to yourself? Don't you know that you'll get acne from doing that? Then everybody will know what you've been up to. Aren't you ashamed?"

Jerry: "Yes, mama." (He has the grace to look properly guilty, but it's hard to tell whether it was her threat or being caught that caused his embarrassment.)

Bev: "You know that mother will have to punish you, don't you?" Jerry: (Nods obediently.)

Bev: "All right, then. Turn over on your stomach." (Jerry does so, and she spanks his bare bottom soundly. The slaps can be heard plainly, but she lacks the strength to inflict any real pain.)

Bev: "Maybe this will teach you a lesson you won't soon forget." (She picks up his belt and lays it on firmly, with a great show of strength. The whipping now becomes serious, and feeds his need for punishment. He writhes under the stinging blows, becoming more excited by the minute. When some red welts appear on his buttocks and he is sobbing with repentance, Bev tosses the belt aside and holds him in her arms. With his head held against her breasts, she croons to him and offers him a nipple in lieu of a pacifier. He suckles contentedly, while she glances downward at his huge erection.)

Bev: (In a stage whisper) "Would you like to put that into me, darling?"

Jerry's answer is muffled by the succulent feast he is having, but it is obviously in the affirmative, for he pulls her onto his lap. She puts both hands behind his head for support and lowers herself onto him. With her back to the audience, she bobs happily up and down until the act reaches a mutually satisfactory conclusion.

Meanwhile the others had discovered that the clever divans converted into comfortable beds. As they waited for their cues, they occupied themselves by watching the players and idly fondling whoever happened to be sitting next to them. It helped to pass the time, but nobody went too far with it. They wanted to save it for the camera.

In the next skit, Pam played the part of a heartbroken girl, alone in her hotel room, whose lover had just deserted her.

As the scene opens, she has drunk herself into a stupor. Completely unaware that the door is ajar, she prances freely around the room, wearing only a bra with open-point cups, garter belt, and long mesh hose.

A stranger, alias Steve, is walking down the hall to his room when he catches a glimpse of her through the partly open door. His interest is caught by her revealing attire. Seeing nobody else about, he waits to see what she is up to.

Even her exposed nipples seem to quiver with righteous anger as she paces back and forth. With each step she takes, she comes down hard on the balls of her feet, causing her whole body to ripple from the impact.

"Goddamn men. anyway!" she mutters. "Nothing but a bunch of pimps, the whole lot of them. Take a girl's money and skip town. Bastards! "Who the hell needs them, anyway?"

Steve avidly watches as she opens a dresser drawer and removes an odd-looking phallic device, which she carries with her to the bed. He nudges the door with his knee to widen his vantage point, giving him an exciting glimpse of Pam's widespread legs.

Her face a mixture of pleasure and desire, she clutches her pussy and pokes a finger in and out, preparing the way for the dildo's entry. Steve's eyes open wide when she inserts the artificial penis in her snatch.

Unable to restrain himself any longer, Steve unfastens his pants and prepares to attack. Her no-man's-land attitude changes to one of glad welcome when she sees him approaching. Tossing the apparatus aside, she reaches out for him and quickly draws him down to her.

The rest of the scene had little to do with play-acting, and any dialogue that was spoken was unintelligible, but even a deaf mute could have understood the rest.

It was odd how each person seemed to have a particular favorite to play games with. At first, they had simply flitted around from one to another-but, with the exception of their gang orgies, they had now settled down to more or less permanent partners. It was a sort of marriage in reverse for them; a painless marriage without hardships.

Maggie and Bob teamed up for the next one-act play. He played a brawny, he-man model, and she a would-be artist who was attempting to capture his--likeness on paper.

He looks like the "after" picture in a Charles Atlas advertisement as he flexes his biceps and sucks in his stomach. The bikini-type briefs he is wearing are practically transparent, and there is a small hole, the size of a dime, located in a strategic place. It's almost imperceptible to the naked eye, but its importance becomes obvious later on.

Maggie places her thumb in the classic gesture of the artist, to fix the exact center of his body in her mind. In keeping with the character she is portraying, she makes some preliminary outlines with charcoal.

Bob is grinning rather foolishly as he holds his pose. He has no idea of the hole's purpose, but he waits for Maggie to take the initiative.

On the pretext of working in an overheated room, she pauses to shed a piece of clothing now and then. When she has stripped down to the buff, he can feel a familiar warmth creeping across his loins. His cock begins to rise. Then, a new feeling comes over him, and he glances down, bewildered.

The small opening has expanded right along with his erection. Stretching right along with him, until the head of his penis is forced out through the hole.

Maggie takes one look at the effect she's having on him, shucks the rest of her clothing, and gives up the pretense of making believe she's an artist. This is more like for real, and she's obviously eager to get on with the sex part of the act.

She's pure savage as she dances around him, nibbling at him in a cannibalistic manner. The combination of her beauty and the wild gnawing of her teeth causes his erection to surpass any he's ever had before.

Wrapping both legs around his waist, she holds onto the back of his head and leans back. The suction of her grip is as constricting as a python's, enabling her to skim the floor with the top of her head.

The full length of Bob's cock has extended completely out of the opening now, and he can enjoy the sight of her, spread out before him, while watching his rod slipping in and out of her. This twofold pleasure spurs him on to fulfillment as, suspended in mid-air, their bodies become one.

The torrid performance put on by these two forced the onlookers to take an intermission before they exploded. They walked around the room, conversing like any group of theater-goers, until the fire had died down a little. Then they were ready for the next curtain.

Allison was next on the bill. Coolly, she disrobes, revealing her beautifully formed body to the audience.

This in itself was a crowd pleaser, but the skit she ha selected was even more so.

When her clothing is carefully draped over a chair, she hands a length of rope to her co-star, Bill. As he ties her wrists to the bed, leaving her spread-eagled on the coverlet, a murmur of approval can be heard from the spectators. The women, especially, are anxious to see Allison taken down a peg-by torture, if necessary.

But this is to be a different kind of torture. When Bill returns to the scene, he is carrying a feather, which he brandishes before him like the white feather of peace. He is naked now, his strip-tease having been done in private.

Bending over Allison, he places the tip of the feather at her throat and begins a slow descent with it. The feathery touch gently circles the aureoles of her breasts, caressing and stimulating. No human touch could produce such a delicate, maddening sensation. He draws the feather around each mountainous orb, causing a tingling, expectant feeling to pervade her body.

Then, he traces a line down the center of her cleavage, as carefully as a surgeon's knife. When he reaches the V of her crotch, she is already trying to push herself up and force him to exert a little pressure. But he withholds the pleasure by holding the feather further away from her. She relaxes and lets him tease her mercilessly.

He traces each crease at the tops of her thighs, while she begins to quiver with the mingled feelings of torture and ecstasy. When he draws the feather along the tip of her mound, which has been exposed by the strapping of her legs, she moans and cries out.

"Oh, God! Please..."

Watching her writhing and twitching has produced the inevitable effect on Bill, and he's almost ready to give in. But not quite.

When he releases her from her bonds, she tries to grab him and pull him down to her, but without success. He eludes her searching fingers and forces her onto her knees. She makes a tempting sight, with her pendulous boobs hanging down and her mask of pretended indifference turned into a whimpering, pleading grimace.

Bill slowly insinuates the feather underneath her, rubbing it back and forth across the middle of her pussy. Her teeth are chattering with unleashed excitement, and her whole torso begins to shake from the velvet-gloved torture. When she can no longer endure the treatment, she mashes her rump against him, and the heat of her flesh stirs Bill into action. He rams it into her with all the force of a stallion, and she jerks and slams against him with such pent-up fury and desire that he fears the result will maim him for life.

Their lust was spent quickly in a final clash that made it difficult to tell where he left off and she began. Their bodies were joined so closely that she seemed to be only an extension of him.

Several accidents had occurred by then, due to the heat and tension that filled the room. The men's rods kept popping up like so many jacks-in-the box, and the women were reluctant to accommodate them. Even though they were at the boiling point too, not one of them cared to miss out on the next feature.

So the fellows resorted to drastic measures. Some of them unashamedly jerked themselves off, while the more fortunate were aided by the soft caress of the females' magic touch.

Joan and Bert followed an act that was hard to top. But they were determined to outdo the others, and make the previous performances look like so much hearts and flowers.

In this scene, Bert plays a rather seedy-looking preacher who is trying to convert a young sinner. Before she sees the light, many revelations of sinful deeds are confessed.

To add a touch of realism to the skit, Bert holds a prayer book and manages to achieve a solemn-looking expression. He eyes Joan sternly up and down as she enters the room.

"Well, young lady. Your mother tells me that you've been a bad girl. Is that right?"

She casts her eyes downward and nods.

"Have you let boys touch you where they shouldn't?"

"Yes."

"Now-don't lie to me, child-did you let any of those boys take your cherry?" She nods meekly in reply.

"How many of them have violated your precious body?"

His high-and-mighty attitude has aroused her anger, and her answers grow bolder. "Who's counting?"

Bert's pious expression is replaced by a shocked look of indignation. "You poor, lost lamb. Come over here and sit down." She slides easily into his lap, and he pats her head benevolently. "Now, tell me. Why do you fornicate with all those boys?"

Her reply is simple and to the point. "Why, because I like it, I guess."

An odd light comes into his eyes as he listens to her frank, unexpected answers. "Tell me about some of your experiences. You know, I am but an instrument of God, and I know that you will be forgiven if you make a full confession of your sins. No matter how sordid the details may be, I won't tell a soul. Hold nothing back, or your confession won't be complete."

As she tells about some of the boys she has had sex with, she wriggles around on his lap, causing him to feel acutely uncomfortable. As if by accident, his hand falls in her lap and is allowed to remain there. "Don't be afraid, child. Tell me everything," he encourages.

"Well, one day I was feeding the chickens when I saw our hired hand peeing behind the barn. He thought nobody could see him, and he sort of shook his pecker off and played with it a little bit."

"Just a moment. Was this man you speak of white or colored?"

"Oh, he was black," she says dreamily. "But, he had the biggest cock I ever saw. None of the boys I went out with had one that big! Anyway, I got to itching and wanting it, so I went over and told him to make love to me."

Bert is becoming agitated by her vivid descriptions, and his fingers begin to dig their way right through the material of her dress. "You naughty girl! You know that was wrong, don't you?"

"Yes, sir. But, I just couldn't help myself. When I get this urge, I just have to have that dirty old thing," she said, pointing to the bulge in his fly.

"Here," he says, opening the front of his trousers. "You mustn't think of me as a man. I'm just God's messenger, sent here to help you and listen to your miserable wrongdoings." He places her hand inside his pants. "Just hold onto my staff. It'll comfort you in your hour of need. Now; go on with your story. What happened then?"

"Well, he didn't want to screw me. He was afraid somebody would find out, I think. But I threatened him. I said I'd tell my father he raped me, and he'd be tarred and feathered. So he gave in. He was scared at first; but I got him worked up good and proper, and soon he was going gung-ho. That was the best screwing I ever had. In broad daylight, too!"

She is nestling snugly against Bert now, and making it obvious to all that she neglected to wear any panties. As he strokes her patch of mossy hair, he continues to encourage her verbally.

"There, there. You feel better now, don't you? Just close your eyes and let God's vessel enter into you. Remember, this has nothing to do with man and his carnal desires. There! Can't you feel the true spirit answering you from within?"

"Oh, yes," she gasps, spreading her legs wider in appreciation.

"Now, you just cooperate and let me guide you," he says, huffing and puffing and he jerks inside of her. Beads of perspiration break out on his brow as his exertions increase.

"It's coming, it's coming!" she shouts. "I'm going to be saved!"

He strains harder in his efforts to please her, leaving the chair behind as he pushes up with all his might. The strain on his legs is terriffic, but he is rewarded by her squeals of pleasure. Then his muscular control is shattered as she thrusts downward so hard that he's literally pushed back into the chair.

With his tool still imbedded in her, she slumps weakly against his chest. He carries her to the bed, where he inelegantly dumps her lax body and prepares to finish satisfying his own needs.

He had barely started in on his favorite form of push-ups when, in the true spirit of revival, Joan gamely joined in. This time, the farce was over. The name of the game was sex, and they wallowed in it.