Dickish Direction: Shemale

But it didn't appear to be up to her on this particular day.

"Summer, get your ass OVER here!"

Ugh.

---

The shots were ruined, the script was useless, and the sex was passionless, depraved, and unsightly.

And Leon had had more than he could take of it.

"Do you just not CARE about this? Is that what this is? Or do you just like screwing me over? Is that it, you pair of -"

"Yeah, it's that last one, you prick. If you'd just let us finish the FUCKING scene-"

A less commanding, but equally insistent, voice from across the room called out. A voice from the nearly-nude figure staring pointedly into her phone, swiping away as she sat in her chair. A voice that had again chosen to disobey him.

"Look, I really need to get out of here soon - if we're not going to keep going, can I just-"

The first voice, returning. Its source turning to face the second, directing some of its owners displeasure towards her instead. Confirming again Leon's judgement of the woman named Malena.

"Fuck no, girl! What's up with that?? We don't leave until we've both gotten to finish what we've started! This prick keeps stopping us before we even get a single real scene in! If I don't get to cum on-camera soon, I swear to God I'll-"

Leon was livid. He WOULD TAKE no more.

"Is THAT what this is about?? You just want to slut it up? Is THAT what's possessed you to-"

"How DARE you?! The hell do you even know about any of this?? Like fuck I need some cocksure man giving me-"

*Ba-dum. Ba-dum.*

His head was pounding, a thunderous drumbeat of fury echoing out from a wrathful heart. For Leon WAS furious. Angrier than he could recall ever having been. And no amount of kneading on his brow, no amount of silently fuming had been able to dispel it.

He was the director. The master of production. The SUPERIOR to these two buffoons. And they had the cockiness, the absolute BALLS, to talk back to him. After all they'd put him through. They should be listening to him. They were supposed to OBEY him.

*Ba-dum. Ba-dum.*

The veins on Leon's forehead stood out prominently beneath his dark bangs as slowly he stood, spidering down from his brow almost to the rim of his glasses. Not that he could see them, nor did he care for them. For he only had eyes for their source. For their cause.

He felt as if he might explode at any moment. This was unjust. Unfair. Beneath his station. He was...he was meant to be in charge. Everything here - it belonged to HIM. Was paid for, was SHAPED, by him, and him alone.

With the sole, infuriating exception of the hateful women before him.

Again, the voice of the second woman, too lazy, too passionless even to confront him as her older counterpart had, called out.

"Ugh, man, do we REALLY have to do this? We've had this stretch out for hours and HOURS. Honestly, I don't even have a problem doing whatever, but my contract says I'm out of here by four-thirty at the latest, and I promise you that-"

He was in charge. He knew it in his soul. He knew it was, at least in this moment, his place. And he would have it so.

Little did any of the three know that, for one contrived, non-specified reason or another, Leon was exactly correct. Perhaps his anger, his overwhelming FURY, had begun to awaken some latent superhuman power within him. Perhaps instead he'd consumed, without knowing, some experimental compound, days or weeks prior, that was to blame for the events that would immediately hereafter transpire. Or perhaps some omnipotent being, some divine author, had simply seen fit to use Leon as a catalyst for their own degenerate amusement, to hand him a tiny well of their own sacred ink to use - for a time, in a place - as he saw fit.

Whatever the reason, and regardless of justification, Leon's head, thoughts, and emotions were suddenly made crystal clear to him, just as his heartbeat was on the verge of overwhelming him, on the verge of making him lose control of himself. The sound of his pulse in his ears abruptly fading to nothing in but an instant.

And, as he felt the subtle change wash over him, the veins on his brow losing prominence - as he slowly swept his gaze from one woman to the other - Leon found himself quite sure of himself. And it confused him. Suddenly and mysteriously, on this day, in this room, he was no longer...QUITE so angry.

Instead, he was tired. Immensely so. Tired of - in his view - the insufferable pair of cunts that so grieved him. And he would have them changed, if only he could. He would have them bent to his will. And Leon Whittaker, despite all evidence to the contrary, was made to feel that he might yet manage his goal.

But first, he had to change tactics. Yelling would get him nowhere, he somehow now knew. No, Directors worked best with actions.

So...he would get his actresses to act. And from there, surely, something would come of it. He found himself certain of it.

And so he spoke. His voice no longer quite so raised. Leveled, controlled, and yet somehow far, far more commanding than ever before. His direction ironclad, though he would not until many days later truly realize it had been.

For Leon was tired, and a differing approach seemed simply to him in order.

"Quiet down, BOTH of you. You two WILL do what I tell you to do."

And at once, the two felt a mild, but undeniable, compulsion to listen.

---

Malena wasn't exactly sure what had happened. She knew, nearly instantly, that she wasn't feeling entirely herself. But what exactly that meant, she couldn't rightly say. A light buzzing permeated her skull, stifling her anger. Quieting her protests. A soft, fuzzy noise, like a radio tuned to nothing in particular. Or maybe...to something vague? An echo, like. A faint, distorted echo of...of the words she'd just...

She swallowed, blinked, tried to pop her ears. But the sound remained. And the annoyance just...didn't.

The man hadn't ceased his remarks - indeed, they had only escalated - so that couldn't be it. Couldn't be the reason.

"You know what? If you two can't NOT go at it like animals, then just...get it out of your systems. Go on. Get your asses back on the bed. Fuck each other wild. I'm not going to fight you on this anymore."

A flourish as he - now standing - approached her, got in her face. Glowered down at her as best he could, likely straining himself to make the most of the few inches he had on Malena. His weak, stubby chin thrusting out in some ill-conceived display of dominance. A pathetic display. An insult-able one. She wanted to mock him for it.

But she said nothing. She...wasn't able to. Unable, even, to will the words she wished to snarl back at him to the forefront of her mind.

His icy grey eyes stared coolly down at her behind his tiny, pretentious glasses. She couldn't read them, she found. And for some reason, she found it hard to meet their gaze.

Then, an unexpected pressure on her bared bust. A light shove, those eyes flashing for just an instant as Malena stumbled away from them, her feet working inadequately to right herself as she fell, finally sending her landing with an *oomph* on the edge of the bed.

Violence. A grossly inappropriate touch.

Was she...ok with that?

"Hey...that's...I could have done it on my own. Dick."

A weak response. Barely even audible. So much so, in fact, she wasn't sure it had been spoken at all. And when she should be screaming at him! Threatening him!

...Shouldn't she be?

"Of course you could have. You can do EVERYTHING on your own, can't you? You don't need a cocksure MAN holding you back. What do I know, right?"

He turned, retreated, paced over to the front most camera, prepping it again for shooting, his posture relaxed. Malena didn't quite know what to make of it. His anger seemed to have left him, too. Just as her own had.

But, she thought - with the vaguest hint of a chill - there was a certain iciness that had replaced it. A certain...power.

"So go on. YOU take that role. Just touch each other, sex each other. Make yourselves feel great! Just rub your hips, your cunts, your pussies, spear each other, soak each other - Use whatever disgusting bits of yourselves you insist on using. All over each other. You have free rein. Debase yourselves, do whatever."

He accompanied this comment with a dismissive wave of his hand. Malena had opened her mouth to retort, to yell back, to jump up, perhaps even to spit on him. To retort to the vulgar, demeaning vitriol. He'd certainly lost any semblance of directorial tact. He'd certainly earned it.

But for some reason, she couldn't manage it.

"But I can hardly bear to watch another second of it, personally. I honestly doubt anything you two can do on your own's going to impress me. And NONE of it's going to be usable, the way you are now. That I promise. You wouldn't know a cunt from a cock, when it comes time to actually get it on-film."

"You sure? I mean, if you want, I'm game, but I do have...some things. To do. When...when we're done, of course. Are we going to do this - you know, instead?"

Summer. The smaller woman, now standing, and moving, and plopping herself down next to Malena, slightly altering the angle of the mattress beneath them, slightly shifting the sheets beneath their nude backsides. Malena found herself blinking at the sudden motion, her eyes slowly peeling themselves from the Director as he moved to the second camera, a higher-angled one offset slightly from the bed's left corner. Her gaze finally settling on the girl. The scrawny brunette whose face now betrayed cloudy, distracted thoughts of her own.

She'd recently earned a bit of Malena's ire herself, come to think of it. She'd been angry at her. At how she wasn't focused on the job. What was up with that? Weren't they partners, at least for the day? Where was her professional pride? Where was...where...

But alas, try though she might, Malena couldn't quite hold the emotion within her mind, the annoyance escaping her the moment she'd thought it caught. Try as she might, she just couldn't seem to care about it.

She had to listen, after all. That was important.

"Oh, feel like listening now, do you? Now that you get to ruin my work with my CONCENT. Yeah, go for it. I'm too tired to argue with you anymore. But I warn you, you better get into it like nothing else. You better let nothing else distract you. It better be the best DAMN sex of your life-"

He punctuated it, best as he could, with a slap to his calf. It wasn't very impressive.

"-Because NONE of us are leaving here 'til you've sexed yourselves raw. I want you going at it so hard those tits of yours practically suffocate. I want you so aroused you could straight-up sex each other with your clits alone."

He snickered a bit at that, as he finished his adjustments, moved on to the next. Clearly, Malena knew, the man was simply fucking with them. He'd no intent of actually letting them do as they pleased. Until the bastard got his way, he'd keep them at it. As long as it took, he would not care.

If that was the case, there was no reason for her to keep working as she was. No reason to care herself. He'd no intent of giving them a fair go of it.

But, well. It...it was ok, wasn't it? They had permission now. Right?

The Director had given them it.

No reason to be...no reason not to just go with the flow. Follow the instructions.

They were both nude already, too, she noted. That made it easy. Easy to do. The job - the directions and all.

It was warm. The shiny, metallic gleam of the lights positioned over them, beaming down brightly, hypnotically. The warmth radiating off the body next to her, off of her own. The...the comforting warmth of the words in...in her...?

Malena smiled a little, though she didn't exactly mean to. It was more just a slackening of the face. Just a small, minuscule smirk. A contented one. Out of character, perhaps - but not unenjoyable. Yes, there was something off about...something...but she...

The words. The directions. The job. The sex.

That sounded easy enough. That might make her feel better. That was normal.

And then Malena felt herself being suddenly pressed back, pressed down, the mattress depressing beneath her as a wonderful warmth descended upon her.

---

"There we go, got the camera all centered for you two. Show the world what you can do then, huh? Go for it. All yours."

Ashley wasn't really listening to him, of course. The words reached her, sure. But for whatever reason, she found herself focused. On something other than leaving, that is.

Ashley was focused, intently so, on the nude body beneath her. On the older, bustier, ever-so-slightly taller woman she'd been paired with.

On her skin, just a bit more bronzed then Ashley's own, just a shade or two darker. A mature, womanly color, contrasting nicely with her own more youthful complexion.

On her arms, loosely pinned by Ashley's own as she positioned herself carefully astride the woman, swinging a leg to rest on her opposite hip.

On the rosy hue of her lips. And, most notably, on the pinkish, textured tint of her nipples and areolae. On the creamy color of the flesh surrounding them, slowly fading as it transitioned into the tanned expanse of Malena.

Ashley's head was buzzing. Lightly, but not unpleasantly.

And she was aroused.

This, it should again be noted, was not the norm for young Ashley. Yes, the woman she acted, the woman named Summer, enjoyed the job, the play. Enjoyed the feel of a tongue, a touch, brushing against and stimulating her most sensitive of spots. Be it from man, woman, or toy, Summer enjoyed, and made no pretense to hide it.

But that excitement ended with Summer.

Never with Ashley.

Never before with Ashley.

But on this day, that distinction seemed somehow...unnecessary to the young actress. The heat of the lamps above, once oppressive and unwelcome, seemed suddenly...comfortable. The look, the feel, the subtle lines, and features, and motions of the experienced woman beneath her - her eyes, as brown as her hair, staring back at Ashley with equal attention; her lips, pink and full, a barely-perceivable, tantalizing gap left between their flawlessly shapely flesh, exposing the stark white of the perfected teeth within - they seemed suddenly inviting.

The lingering, fading, ephemeral remnants of the barely-sweet taste on her tongue, not quite yet left despite her best efforts to the contrary. Suddenly dancing again in her mouth. Suddenly delicious.

It tasted of Summer. It tasted of her.

It tasted of sex.

And it tasted good.

And Ashley, for the first time she could rightly recall, felt herself begin to crave it, entirely despite herself.

Summer's heat, a passion for her work she had long since discarded, began to bloom within her then - though the woman herself didn't yet realize it was so. An unfamiliar, but empowering, warmth. Radiating from the sun of her core. Reaching its burning rays out to Ashley. Heating her from within. Her arms. Her legs. Her head. And a good deal more than just that.

She was a little frightened, she would admit. It wasn't normal for her, and she knew it, somewhere deep within the morass of her befuddled consciousness. Some part of her knew, deep down, that something was off. That giving in to her cravings would mean a change, an irrevocable alteration of herself.

But even with those thoughts, even as she hesitated, her body buzzed, tingled ever more. Headily. Pleasantly. And she was lustful. She, the woman separated by the skin, desired to be touched. Craved it.

Craved sex.

Craved to obey the Director's words.

Ashley was compelled to speak then, a breathy, barely-audible exhalation, not meant for anyone in particular. And, never breaking her gaze from the woman below her, she whispered.

"Gotta earn my pay, huh...?"

And as the words left, so too began to leave the distinction, the justification. The separation of the skin and the soul dissolving as if it had never been. Because, for the moment, at least, it didn't. It didn't matter; COULDN'T matter.

The directions were clear, after all. She was to enjoy herself. Debase herself. Not just act it.

She reached out jerkily then, grasping the shoulders of the woman named Malena. She began to entwine her legs with those below her, began to lock her willing body together with its counterpart. One leg lying atop its pair, another squirming beneath. And as she did, Summer found her eyes, her head, her entirety, drawn towards the eyes, the face, the body below her. The thoughts of Ashley writhing, intertwining, and merging to join with Summer's desperate, overwhelming, yearning craving.

"I don't want to be subjected to any of it, mind. If you're doing it, you'd better commit - but keep those things to yourselves. I do still expect SOME semblance of modesty from you. Just griiiiind the sexy bits you're so enamored with using together to your heart's content. SAVOR them - but keep them out of view. I don't give a damn if you put your mouths to 'em, or use your hands, or just stick them together, so long as you get rid of any semblance of those unsightly privates of-"

Simultaneously, and almost unconsciously, Ashley's hips bucked downwards, away from herself, towards the other pair jumping slightly upwards as if to meet her. Not by much, nor particularly forcefully.

Just enough to follow their instruction.

Just enough to allow their two quivering, arousing, moistening nethers to meet.

Just enough to allow each to press against the other, quietly embracing in the warm void between their bodies.

Just enough to compact them, join them. Enough for the two to feel and share, joltingly acutely, the sexual energy they'd each been infused with.

And just enough for the two, for Malena and Summer both, to begin their shared journey. As, with a spine-tingling, brain-stunning shock, their enflaming vaginas overloaded their synapses as they touched gingerly together. As they began to scissor and sex, the direction they'd been given now being met with enthusiasm. In part, at least.

For now, at least.

The Summer sun breathed heat within Ashley's flower, readying it to bloom. And the woman began to move.

---

Malena had not expected her co-star to be so suddenly forward in her performance. Nor had she expected herself to be so immediately overcome with sensation.

But, as she lay on the silken sheets below her, her body smothered by that of Summer, her cunt firmly nestled against that of its partner, she found herself more than willing to BE overcome.

Malena was experienced, skilled, and innately sexual. She'd done it all. Felt it all. ENJOYED it all. But enjoyment...it wasn't really the right word for what she felt there, on that bed, her mind abuzz, her body ablaze.