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The Foundation
16
The Fuck Factory
Carmel drew back the large red door marked Studio 1 and stepped inside to see a young woman with a clipboard watching three prisoners being cuffed and chained while a fourth prisoner was slipping into a dark blue leotard. Carmel recognised the producer.
“Sasha. We meet again. How is life in Hollywood?”
“Very good. I’m making a lot of money with Hector. I run all his media these days. These girls really are very good, just like those three whores we had last year. We can double our standard output and the range of degrading abuse is considerable. However, we could do with some really big men.” Sadie could not resist a smile. “Hector and I are close, very close.” Carmel looked slightly embarrassed. “It makes good business sense to obtain such a fine sample as young Ramrod. I am sure he would be a very profitable acquisition.”
Carmel turned to the four prisoners and asked about Sasha’s latest feature.
“We’re advertising The Foundation’s bondage whores. It’s called Foundation Prison Escape. Three convict whores escape during a visit to a local hospital.” Sasha answered Carmel’s surprised look. “We’ve got two nurses’ outfits. The girls escape and they are pursued by the prison officer, Mistress Whiptide. They’re captured, and the local sheriff, Sheriff Pokemhard, arrives and … well he fucks all four of them, and Miss Whiptide buggers the girls a lot. I mean a hell of a lot. The Foundation will be mentioned at least once a minute, and the term hot bitches will be used in virtually every scene. As you can see the girls are all in ‘Harmon blue’ including our very sexy guard.”
“I do like the outfit.” The prisoner wore black boots reaching to her thighs, a tight dark blue leotard, a cap with a bright blue band and sunglasses. The costume was completed by a brown leather baton and white gloves.
“I modelled her on Sheriff Ortiz. Is there any chance that she could appear in one of my films? I’d love to have her taking that baton up the arse.”
“Sadly, we have other plans for Senorita Ortiz.”
The other three women wore only dark blue vests advertising The Foundation’s website as they were chained to the wall. Mistress Whiptide drew out her baton and placed the head against the anus of one of the girls. The prisoner begged the officer to abuse another girl, and a row began between two whores, each calling for the other to endure an anal pounding from the officer’s truncheon.
“It’s lunch hour, so there’s no actual filming, but I’ll take you on a tour of the facility. It really is very impressive. Worth every cent.”
“It should do. It cost me enough. That’s why the studio is open before the rest of the prison. We need revenue to service our debts.”
Studio 2 was just a bedroom with a table in the corner. A whore in pink suspenders and basque was tied to the bed, but the rest of the set was empty except for a young man studying a lap top computer.
“Lesbian bondage session,” he explained, returning to his screen while the whore moaned from the pain of three hours tied to a bed.
The director, Dave Corsair, appeared with a bound whore, dressed in white lingerie and high heels, by his side.
“My lunch time treat,” he explained, clasping her buttocks.
“Dave. I thought you’ve been around long enough to have had your fill of fuckmeat.”
“I have been around far too long, but these are the juiciest cunts I’ve ever seen. Miss De Bois, my complements on your pussies.” He offered Carmel a bow which was met with the slightest of curtsies.
“I am honoured that an aficionado should pay me such respect.”
Carmel asked about the large red steel door, wondering if it was a fire measure.
“No, the doors keep out the sound, and keep it in. We don’t want any screams disturbing the rest of the prison.”
“On the contrary, Mister Corsair, I insist upon hearing screams from your set. Then I know you’re making the right kind of movies.”
Studio 3 was decorated as a dungeon, with a fake brazier glowing in the corner and torture devices littering the set.
“The other studios will be altered about once a week, but the dungeon will be almost a permanent feature. We’re planning a whole series. We can have a lot of fun in here. We can take these whores to places never seen on public video.”
“A porn pioneer. You should be proud.”
The set was deserted of technicians, but the stocks and the bondage devices all contained whores. Four prisoners dangling from the ceiling, a couple were bound to the wall with their ankles over their heads and three women peered out from tight cages. All wore gags, and their muffled cries told Carmel that they had endured a painful, demanding and degrading morning on the set. She was satisfied that Sasha was taking full advantage of The Foundation’s assets.
“You’ll be pleased with the film crew. They barely treat them as humans. One technician only found out they spoke English last Tuesday. They call the girls fuckmeat and treat them like animals. The harder we drive these whores, the more money everyone will earn. It is in everyone’s interest to treat them as brainless sluts.”
They left the dungeon and walked out into the warm afternoon to see three whores staked to the ground in the manicured garden. Carmel placed her shoe on the head of the middle whore.
“Slave, why are you here?”
“Mistress, I failed to come when Master ordered me. I’m very sorry.”
“How long have you been here?”
“A night and a day, Mistress.”
“Good. I am glad to see that Mister Corsair is not indulging my whores. They’ll be impossible to use if he spoils them.”
“Please Mistress, I …”
Carmel silenced the whore by pressing her face into the mud, but the fate of the first prisoner did not stop the other girls pleading to be released. Sasha and Carmel ignored their abject appeals while Sasha explained how they would use the garden to film some outdoor shots as well as using a large vacant mansion belonging to an absent landlord.
“Handy.” Carmel smiled. “I want these sluts working every hour. Time is money, and I intend to make myself rich before very long.”
“I’ve set a rota, and these girls will be working ten hours a day for the next thirty days. Then we replace them with another twenty girls. I think we can get ten hours a week of footage from each set, and with a fourth set in the garden we could be talking about forty hours of high quality hardcore bondage porn a week. Carmel, we have ourselves a porn factory.”
The whores on the grass pleaded with Carmel and Sasha to free them from their callous torment, pulling against their chains and writhing in the mud as they watched the two women step over them as they left the garden.
They returned to Studio 1 to find the crew returned from their lunch, preparing for the next scene. The three naked girls were strapped to the wall while the fourth prisoner in guard uniform was adopting the standard Foundation pose, virtually ignored by the technicians moving around the set.
“We’re filming the climax of the film, which is just a lot of anal fucking. The male lead will sodomise each whore in turn while Kara, the girl in the uniform, will bugger them with her baton.”
Carmel called over the whore in the costume and took the truncheon. The three whores chained to the wall eyed their Director as she ran her fingers over the head of the cudgel.
“Display.” All three girls set their legs wide apart. Carmel touched the buttocks of the blonde and told her to spread her legs even wider as the leather baton gradually disappeared to muffled grunts from the prisoner. Carmel stood back to admire her work, the baton jutting no more than five inches out of the whimpering whore.
“I want that shot.”
“We don’t have three batons.”
“You only need one. The male whore can bugger another girl and tie the third prisoner to the wall. The male and the guard can double penetrate her hanging from the ceiling. How does that sound?”
“Great. You have a talent for this line of work, Miss De Bois.”
“I like to indulge my artistic temperament. Now, speaking of temperamental artists, where’s the porn stud?”
Ulysses Winchester – Harper, the Harvard graduate son of a merchant banker, was renowned within the porn industry for his arrogance, poor punctuality and his massive penis. After two years selling his body in LA clubs he embarked upon a film career that had brought him notoriety and a reasonable income, supplemented by ‘private parties’ for wealthy Hollywood women. He accepted his agent’s offer of a trip to Texas partly because it offered him the chance to work for six full days, but his main reason for coming to Houston was to charm Carmel De Bois.
Ulysses looked out from the small plastic cubicle that served as a dressing room to see a woman in a grey business suit standing by the window with the producer. Here was his challenge, and his opportunity. Porn star fame could not keep him in expensive suits and a new sports car every other year now that almost all the inheritance money from his Wall Street grandfather was gone. A businesswoman would be a good meal ticket for a few years, and he had bedded enough wealthy women to know that they could be generous to their pets.
Ulysses stroked his member to fashion a full erection, slipped out of his dressing gown, glanced in his mirror to check his blonde locks and sauntered across the studio towards the woman in battleship grey. She saw him coming, his pink tool glowing against his pale skin, but Ulysses was undaunted by her cold look. Carmel De Bois would be a demanding task, but the higher the mountain, the greater the prize.
“Miss De Bois, I presume.” He took her hand and planted a kiss. “I don’t believe that I’ve had the pleasure.”
“I’m certain that you have not.” Ulysses ignored Sasha’s giggle.
“May I take this opportunity to thank you for your kind invitation to visit your new … resource. I believe that we will soon be joined by almost three hundred tight young pussies. If you need a hand … licking them into shape, you only need to ask.”
“If we need you, Mister …”
“Winchester – Harper, Ulysses Winchester – Harper.” He announced his name, as if revealing a wonderful secret. If the news was meant to impress Carmel, it failed. “I hope that your new arrivals will be smarter than these morons I’ve been performing with this morning. I’ve met smarter dogs.”
“I’ll bring our Ivy League graduate whores for you.” He smiled and examined the Director of The Foundation as if considering livestock. He intended to fascinate, but Carmel thought this naked male whore sporting an erection in public was struggling to look masterful.
“Mr Winchester – Harper, is there something I can do for you?”
“I thought that, as you invited me here today to … partake of these young damsels, I thought you might be interested in examining my assets.”
“Firstly, Mr …”
“Winchester – Harper, but you can call me Ulysses.”
“I did not invite you. Miss Benson booked you. Secondly, I have neither the …”
“Carmel, I know you won’t be disappointed.” She finally looked down on his cock. It was impressive, but the owner was an arrogant bore.
“I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Ramon Hernandez who, I believe, owns the largest cock in the Union.”
“I am not familiar with his work. He sounds like Mexican rough trade to me. I doubt that he measures up to my weapon of mass distraction.” Ulysses stroked his penis, closing his eyes as he massaged the moist tip. Winchester – Harper was paler than Ramon, so the dark underside of his penis reminded Carmel of a snake, and the analogy was quite fitting. She was offended by the remark about Ramon, and she decided to be simply impolite.
“Mister Winchester – Harper, I am very busy at the moment. I would be grateful if you could return to your work.” There was no movement from the naked porn star other than a smile. Ulysses was too arrogant to be discouraged, but he knew that his campaign to secure her affections, and her bank details, would take time.
He strolled across to the set, took one of the chained whores off the wall and placed her over a table. He drew her legs apart and ravaged her anus with vigorous thrusts that left even a Foundation whore panting for breath. When he looked up from his passionate display, eager to demonstrate the magnificence of himself in action, Carmel was gone.
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