A shower, some anal and three gun shots later. . .

You hear 'Gregor' laughing.

"I think we need to clean Tiffy off. You stay out here and watch loverboy."

You feel two guys each grab an arm and start walking you down the path. You can't see a damned thing thanks to the semen drying on your face but if they are following the script, you're heading for the men's room and Jorge is stuck outside since he's already had his go. Less than a minute later you realize you are right when your feet touch the cold tile. The room has a small kerosene heater shoved in a corner to keep the air warm but it isn't doing much for the floor.

You feel someone cut the zip tie on your wrists. Then you hear the shower start running.

'Gregor' barks, "Raise your arms."

You do as he demands and feel your top yanked up your body and off you. Then you feel him rip at your skirt and can't help but shake your head as it falls from your hips to the ground. It was a perfectly good skirt. Are one button and a zipper too hard for him to figure out? Then he puts his hands on the back of your shoulders and walks you into the shower. You feel the warm water cascade down your face and over your breasts on its way down to the drain on the floor. You were half afraid smartass was going to just turn the cold water on and laugh at your first scream. You feel a bar of soap touch your hand so you take it and lather up. You hear the boys joking as you try to clean the crud off your face.

John: "Damn, man. You picked us out a winner this time."

'Gregor': "I saved the best for last. Tiff has been wiggling that fine ass at me for three years now. I had to have her before I go."

John: "What's the plan for when we're through with her? I doubt either is going to keep their mouths shut."

'Gregor': "I'm leaving the country. They are your problem then, man. You all need a biker whore at the clubhouse?"

John: "Maybe. She looks clean enough for me."

John reaches in and cuts the water off. He tosses you a towel and you dry off. He grabs you and pulls you out of the restroom. Confused you follow, the script called for him to fuck you in the shower. Why the hell are you going out there? He opens the back door of 'Kyle's' car and pushes you in first. Then he climbs between your legs. How the hell is the cameraman going to film this? You start to struggle a bit but 'Gregor' opens the door on the other side and holds your arms over your head. He looks over at John.

"What's your plan?"

"I just want to cream her in the back of her boyfriend's car."

"No! please stop," you beg hoping the adlibbed line makes sense. Did Lon plan this change or are the guys just doing whatever turns them on? John has no intention of giving you time to think about it though. He ignores your pleas and slams his cock deep inside your sopping wet pussy.

"Shush," he says as his cock pistons in and out of your tight slit. "Just lay there and take it, bitch. That's your only function tonight."

You can see the sweat beading on his face as he drills you for all he's worth. You squirm a bit, trying to get comfortable on the cold leather in the beginning but it isn't long before you warm up. As John continues to relentlessly pound you, you can feel him shift around a bit until his hard cock starts rubbing against just the right spot. When he hears you start groaning loudly, he starts hammering that place.

"Come on, baby. Cream on me. Go ahead, baby. Cream!"

He keeps chanting it over and over as 'Gregor' reaches down and rolls your nipples in his fingers. You quickly get lost in the feeling of the moment, forgetting the cold, the film. . . all of it. You arch your back and start begging.

"Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes, please baby! Just like that!"

You hear your heart pounding in your ears as your skin gets warm and electricity shoots through your nerve endings. John howls victoriously as you explode, your juices leaking everywhere as you orgasm. He doesn't even try to fight it as he unloads deep inside your convulsing cunt, filling you with everything he has. He leans in and kisses you as you feel his rod slowly shrinking. Then he stands up and you hear the cameraman yell "cut!"

Greg laughs, "That didn't look anything like **** at all!"

John shrugs, "Agra will probably just edit the sound out and put some ominous music in there. Red was thrashing around enough that it might look real enough."

You slowly sit up and look at the guys.

"You're lucky the director seems to be on break. Did you guys just forget the script or throw it out?"

Greg winks, "I know it's anal in the restroom next."

You sigh, "You would remember that part."

One of the crew comes over and passes out bottles of water. You reach up front into the dash compartment and grab some paper towels, wipe yourself up, and head to the ladies' room. As you head in there, you hear the cameraman.

"Break time I guess?"

"Yeah, give us five please," you yell from inside.

Rocquelle laughs as you walk right past her to the toilet grabbing more paper towels on the way.

"You OK, honey?"

"Guys make messes and we're always the ones that have to clean up."

"I told you boys are nothing but trouble, Red."

You do what needs to be done and exit the stall a few minutes later.

"Almost done?"

"Yeah," you reply. "Just the anal scene left."

"Being a lesbian has a few advantages," Rocquelle laughs. "I think that's the biggest one!"

"Sorry, hun. It's a cross a girl has to bear when you hit puberty and decide guys smell really good."

You shake your head, lean over and kiss her cheek, and head outside.

"John, what the hell was the idea behind the car thing? That's not in the script."

You grab the windbreaker, throw it on the bench, and sit.

John laughs, "You sounded happy enough, Red. Besides we can make the trip back to the bathroom quick."

You stick your tongue out, "Better make it really quick. It's getting colder."

Greg looks at the cameraman.

"You heard the lady. Let's get this done."

They all walk over to the car as you take a moment to slip your shoes on and follow. A naked woman in ankle-high boots probably looks ridiculous but you have no intention of freezing your feet any longer than you have to. You throw the windbreaker on the back seat, sit on it, and toss the boots off into the grass.

"I hope you can keep the jacket out of the shot."

You start to shake a bit and you can feel the goosebumps start to rise on your arms. You lay back on the seat.

"Someone can yell action any time now," you say looking out the door at all three of the guys. The cameraman nods and yells action.

'Gregor' immediately pushes John to the side, grabs your hands, and pulls you from the car. He throws you over his shoulder and carries you toward the restroom. The moment you enter, the warm air from the heater envelops you chasing the cold away. 'Gregor' drops you on your feet in front of the sinks. You hold your hands up to him.

"Let's not be crazy here, Gregor."

He spins you around and bends you over the sink. You scream as he pulls your hands behind your back and zip ties your wrists again.

"Nothing crazy here at all, Tiff. I'm gonna pop a cherry here tonight because I doubt anyone else has gotten your ass."

You hear him unzip his pants and a moment later hear them hit the floor. He pulls your right asscheek to the side and then presses his hard cockhead against your **** puckered hole.

"I'm gonna love this as much as you hate it, Tiff. It would have been so much easier in my bedroom but you had to be such a fucking bitch!"

You start to scream in terror as he laughs and the cameraman yells cut.

"Damn, Red! That was loud," Greg says as he walks over to the bag in the corner to get the lube.

"Realism demands volume," you smirk.

You stand and pace back and forth as you wait for him to get back. You could slip out of the tie but figure it'll only be a few minutes, why waste another?

Greg squirts the liquid on his finger.

"You're gonna have to bend over. Trust me, you want some of this in there. Being really slick is a good thing."

You bend back over the sink and he slides his pinky finger slowly into you. You bite your lower lip but stay quiet as he rubs it around, spreading the lube liberally.

"Why does everyone want anal in these things?"

Greg laughs, "It's tighter and feels different? That covers why folks try it. Why is it in all the movies? Because so many girls won't that guys watch porn to fulfill the fantasy. That's my theory anyway, not enough buttsluts."

"Smartass!"

He pulls his finger out.

"Speaking of ass, gorgeous," he playfully slaps your right asscheek before stepping back a bit. Looking in the mirror behind the sink, you can see him slathering lube onto his 9-inch weapon. He has a big smile on his face as he does, so either it feels good or he's looking forward to the scene. Greg looks over at the cameraman.

"Whenever you're ready."

He looks at you and gets a nod.

"May as well get this over with."

Greg moves behind you and lines his pecker up with your asshole, you can see his big, stupid smile large as life in the sink mirror.

"Ok. Ready? Set? Action!"

'Gregor' doesn't waste time pushing his cock into you. He moves slowly, gently but steadily into your backdoor. You can feel yourself stretch around him. It doesn't really hurt but you feel overfull and the pressure is pretty intense. You want to rush over to the toilet because you feel so full. Then you remember you have to say things.

"Oh my God, Gregor! Stop! It hurtsssssssss," you whine as loud as you can, hoping it sounds believable.

"Shut up, bitch," he snarls as his cock pushes further in. You start to groan as he gets deeper into your tight ass, you can feel yourself hugging his shaft. Then he starts to pull back. The feeling of being totally stuffed and then slowly emptying starts giving you a tingle in your loins like you can feel him through there. Then he starts pushing back in and it starts all over. He slowly speeds up, pushes in, and pulls out. . . over and over and over again. You start to feel light-headed as he stretches you further and harder. You look up at the mirror and the room goes black.

You open your eyes to the feeling of the whole room shaking. You quickly realize that's Greg shaking your shoulders. He's still standing behind you, pinning you against the sink with his hips so you don't fall backward. He isn't inside you anymore. That's when you hear three loud bangs outside, two in quick succession and then one higher-pitched one.

"What the hell?" You mumble.

Then you see Lon walk in the room wearing a three-piece suit and a fedora. He addresses 'Gregor' in the worst Russian accent you have ever heard in your life.

"Damn it, son! We don't need this sort of trouble."

"No problem, Dad. The bikers are going to clean it up."

"Grab the whore, get both of you in the car, and shut up."

Lon walks out and 'Gregor' follows carrying you over his shoulder. You see a Lexus parked at the curb with a member of the crew in a suit holding the back door open. As you look around, you see both bikers with pistols on the ground laying in pools of blood and 'Kyle' with a shotgun beside him seemingly bleeding from a head wound.

Lon looks at you, "Americans really should do something about their gun problem."

'Gregor' tosses you in the back seat and slides in next to you. Lon gets in the other side and the crew member climbs in the driver's side. You can see a cameraman in the passenger's seat filming over the top. Lon looks up at the driver.

"To the airport, Fydor. We'll be flying out early."

'Gregor' looks at him, "What are we doing with her?"

"I guess we'll find a use for her when we get home," he offers a wicked smile as the car drives away. Lon then yells cut and the car makes a U-turn and pulls into the cabin driveway.