You learn just how Mort pays for all of her science supplies, and the 'director' tries to talk you into joining

"So, I don't think we've been introduced but I think I remember seeing you in the list of new girls tryin' out for slots in the League. 'Lyndie Splits', right?" with breathtaking (over?)confidence the man in the Hawaiian shirt wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you over to the couch, motioning you to sit down next to him. Having had super-strength ever since you were a young teen, just about every guy you've ever known has been very hesitant to be physically pushy or threatening with you in the slightest, knowing that you could break their nose with a flick of your index finger. As a result you've never really learned to be fearful of pushy guys... so you just let him, though you fold your arms over your considerable chest, and your raised eyebrow speaks to your suspicion. "For your information, mister, it's 'Lickety-Split Lynn'. I can run faster than-"

"Cool, cool," the guy says, looking back to the others who are setting up lights and cameras while La Petite Mort crosses her legs and sets about finishing her coffee and cigarette with a slightly deeper frown than usual. "I'm going to talk biz with Lynn over here, guys... see if I can help her out maybe. For justice and all. You guys know what to do pretty much, right? They're both gonna be gonzo style, no storyline or dialogue, and 'facials' is going to pretty much the same with Mort that #3 and #5 were. I figure this is the last time there'll be much interest in her in that format which is why we're changing over afterwards. Just like the foot videos - Mort is perfect for them but after 2 or 3 starring her, it isn't gonna drive sales anymore."

"What. The heck. Are you goin' on about, mister?" you ask, screwing up your face quizzically in response to all the lingo getting thrown around. "I'm pretty green, I'll admit it, but... glamour shots are glamour shots, ain't they? They're just advertising or pin-ups, not something you make more of every month. Once you got it right you just put them in your portfolio... right? I can understand close-up shots of her face for merchandise and shoe modeling but what do you need video for?"

Several of the crew start laughing and guffawing at that and the director does too - they seem to think you're making a joke. "Ahhhh, nice, nice. I like it. If you can do some stuff for us 'in character' like that, I think it could be huge, babe." Since they apparently think you said something clever you just smile awkwardly and nod along.

"So like I was saying. I know we started out doing the more specialized stuff with our wonderful, brainy starlet because she wanted the biggest pay but at this point I think there's more remaining untapped demand for some basic B/G scenes, so we're gonna do one of those with her today. If it's popular and Mort still needs money next month we can start dialing things up a little at the time with some backdoor, some BBC, and some rough stuff..."

"Excuse me...!" the petite pallid woman on the couch nearly chokes on her coffee. "Did I agree to any of that? B... you mean...?"

"Yeah," the director looks back over at her, "I mean, what's the big deal? You already went that far once as part of #4..."

"I never agreed to it! You... you sprung it on me, you scum!" she huffs indignantly. "You told me there would NOT be any of that this time!"

"Yeah, not in S.D.F.#6, the new one is gonna be part of a different project. I'm willing to take a chance on it so pay's higher. 15k. On top of the 10 for the other one. C'mon sweetie, you know that's already like 10 times the rate going for much younger girls who fill a hell of a lot more of a bikini than you do..."

La Petite Mort adjusts her hat and sighs again before stubbing out her cigarette. "...fine. But if you manage to writhe your way into making this blonde backwoods bimbo do anything for you there had better be some kind of agent fee on top of that."

"Nice." the director says with a satisfied chuckle. "Actually, since we've already been talking so long here, how about we start with the new scene so that you don't need as much time to get cleaned up afterwards? Guys, do rock paper scissors or whatever and pick somebody for the first part, and then you can transition right into the facial scene, it's fine if she starts that one in her underwear."

He starts to look down at your chest but then snaps his fingers. "Oh! And remember you dipshits - no using her real name. Uh, her real stage name, that is. As far as our company is concerned her name is 'Paris Smallz', got it? Oh, and baby -" he addresses Mort again, "it'd be hard to claim that any 'shrinkage' is done with camera angles or post-processing effects when it's... 'body to body' like that, so you don't need to do any of that stuff, save it for S.D.F. #6 and just go, uh, au naturale. Uh, only in terms of shrinking though... before I have the guys start filming, we're on the same page now as far as shaving is concerned, right? You know I don't write the rules, baby..."

Mort rolls her eyes and sits primly, back upright. "Yes, yes, I've bowed to the idiotic masses and electrolysized myself like a poulette in a fucking abattoir." She looks over to you. "Lynn, isn't it about time you were going? Don't you have some jaywalkers to smash the teeth out of, somewhere?"

"Before you answer that babe," the oily guy turns to you and gives you a big grin as one of his employees trains a tripod-mounted camera on Mort, "maybe you'd be interested in a few of the ad execs I could introduce you to? My name is Mike Franco, you can call me Mike... I'd just love if you did. You realize there's no such thing as bad publicity these days, right?"

"Uhhh," you say noncommittally, still not quite processing what is going on here. Rather, you are starting to get a much clearer idea exactly what is going on here but it seems beyond belief and you aren't sure you actually want to believe it.

"And I mean it's actually really, uh, what do you call it, progressive, in a way." he says, spreading his arms and letting the back of his hand brush against your bare thigh. "I mean don't get me wrong, Peti- uh, I mean, our mutual friend 'Paris Smallz', is very cute and I'd gladly take her home with me for good if she'd let me, but there are so many women with fuller figures in the League who the average Joe Blow would love to see in a scene. But here she is, working with us. Is it just because she's the only one **** enough to work with a man in an industry that treats women like expendable tissue paper?" he shakes his head vehemently and waves in front of him. "Noooooo! Ab-so-lutely not. It's because we and our viewers have got so much respect for a truly accomplished woman. She may have the city's smallest tits, but it's that big, sexy brain of hers that makes them all want to see her taking cock and getting drenched with spooge."

You are completely speechless. Your mouth is open but no sound, let alone words, come out as your watery blue eyes widen into an unfocused stare.

There is a loud beep as the camera over on the tripod turns on. "Hiiii," a pug-faced, barrel-chested man, goateed man in a muscle shirt says to her as he looms over the small woman sitting on the couch. "so, tell us what your name is...?"