Message-ID: <44717asstr$1065989404@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: Cindylover1969@aol.com (CindyLover) X-Original-Message-ID: Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit NNTP-Posting-Date: Sun, 12 Oct 2003 12:35:55 +0000 (UTC) X-ASSTR-Original-Date: 12 Oct 2003 05:35:55 -0700 Subject: {ASSM} ...Make Me Feel So Damned Unpretty: So It Begins ((Jennifer Garner, Jessica Alba, Kirsten Dunst, Brittany Murphy, Eliza Dushku, MF, FF, cons, oral, anal, mast) Date: Sun, 12 Oct 2003 16:10:04 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: RuiJorge, dennyw Disclaimer: The actual people in this story are not, repeat not, portrayed as they are in real life. The fictional characters portrayed herein are the properties of Spelling Television and Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation and are used her for fantasy purposes only. It goes without saying that this is not aimed at under 18s. And after writing on CSSA for some time, I finally decided to post a few of them onto the newsgroups as well. * * * * * * * * * * "I'm going to ask you again," she told her captive patiently. "Where is it?" Even though she knew what was going to happen, and dreaded it, she shook her head. "If that's the way you want to play it, fine," the first speaker sighed. "But you know you're only delaying things." She pulled the trigger of the gun she had been aiming at the captive's pretty blond head and fired five times at close range. "I'll be back tomorrow, and we'll try this again," she said calmly, and left. * * * * * * * * * * Jennifer Garner was clad only in bikini shorts and a thin T-shirt that Sunday afternoon in her private gym. Her long body was coated in sweat, and her nipples were poking through the soaked shirt as she caught her breath. She had been taken to the limit over the past few hours, but she was still hungry for more. Flicking some hair past her eyes, she looked over at her conqueror and nodded happily. "Didn't I tell you it was gonna be worth it?" Ellen laughed from the other side of the ring. "I told you if you tried it with a woman it would be different." Jennifer had to agree that ever since she had taken on Ellen Devereaux as her new trainer, she'd gotten a lot more out of her fitness regime. She felt like she could go up to Jeffrey Abrams and tell him to stuff the stunt doubles, she could do it all by herself thank you very much. Hell, bring on Michelle Yeoh, Zhang Ziyi... she'd take them ALL on! "I feel like I've gone through hell," she said. "I love it." "Same time next week?" Ellen asked, studying the actress. "You got it," Jennifer laughed. "You know what the best thing about this is? You're all mine." Ellen nodded; some trainers had several clients around town, but she was all Jennifer Garner's. "I wouldn't want it any other way," she added. "Now go and get yourself a shower." "Gotta let the sweat out first," Jennifer told her as she climbed out of the ring. "Otherwise it won't really wash off." "Oh yeah," Ellen said offhandedly as her partner studied her. Jennifer's brow furried for a moment - the two women had been at it for hours, and yet Ellen hadn't broken a sweat. At all. Then she shrugged it off; Jennifer was a comparative novice, but Ellen had been doing it all her life. * * * * * * * * * * With filming on "Saturday" through for the day, Kirsten Dunst finally got to relax. This would be a grind for the young actress, since she was in nearly every scene of the comedy - set over an entire day (hence the title), she was playing the sister of her co-star, who was taking her all over the city to try and get a stash of drugs inside her jewellery box... or some such contrivance. It wasn't usually her type of thing, but she wanted to do something a bit lighter and which gave her more opportunities to act than "Spider-Man" had; at least she didn't spend so much time here mooning over her leading man. On the other hand, Tobey Maguire had been nowhere near the primadonna that Sarah Michelle Gellar was. Kirsten had been in a movie with her before, but on "Small Soldiers" SMG had only voiced half the Gwendy dolls ("Gwendy"? Five years later and Kirsten still thought that name sounded stupid) - this time they were face to face, and from the start the two had not gotten on well; neither thought the script was that great, but Kirsten had bitten the bullet and gone on with the job, whereas Sarah had asked the director (who was also the writer) how she expected anyone to say this crap with a straight face, and demanded that her scenes be rewritten. Relations on set had gone downhill from there... the beautiful blonde splashed some water on her face and wondered how much longer they'd be here. It could be a while; thanks to SMG's tantrums, at the end of the first week they were already three days behind schedule. You'd think Touchstone would have learned romantic comedies and Jerry Bruckheimer didn't mix after "Coyote Ugly," but no... "Miss Dunst?" her assistant called from outside. "It's Kirsten!" "Um... Kirsten, the director wants to see you." Kirsten shook her head, wondering what was coming next. "Okay!" she called out, successfully faking cheeriness, and willed herself to face whatever it was Gellar had said about her. In her office, Lisa Thompson - the successful television writer-producer for whom "Saturday" was her directing debut - flicked out the gum she had been chewing while waiting for Kirsten to show up. She hoped this would go down well; she had been visibly nervous on set, and now for this bombshell to drop... "Hey, Lisa," Kirsten beamed as she entered. "You wanted to see me?" "Uh-huh," Lisa answered. "There's no easy way to tell you this, so I'll just do it - Sarah's been fired." Kirsten's mouth dropped open. "She's been....?" Lisa nodded. "But - but what about breach of contract?" "Bruckheimer and the Mouse agreed this was the best thing, otherwise the Slayer'll drive us all nuts." "But we're talking like four days worth of reshooting, rehearsing, plus we've got to recast..." "Relax, Kirsten. I've already lined up a replacement. I always have a backup just in case something like this happens. You've got to remember I'm from television - I'm very familiar with SMG's behaviour. Her sub will be on set tomorrow." "What's she like?" "You won't have seen her in anything - she's very new. Practically off the bus, hardly any major credits. But she blew me away in this small indie movie I saw a couple of weeks ago; I tracked her down and promised I'd get her in something." "And this something's a major-studio movie?" Kirsten asked in disbelief. "She must have been really good." "It happens, Dunst," Lisa told her. "Plus she carries really well on film; you and her'll have all the girls covering their boyfriends's eyes when it comes out. Here, have a look." And she handed Kirsten a set of 8 x 10s. "Her name's Sara Hathaway." The young woman in the pictures was in her early 20s; she had sparkling bright blue eyes set amongst clear, spotless skin, and waves of jet-black hair. From what Kirsten could see of her teeth, they were the real thing - not a cap in sight. She was only in the pictures from her shoulders up, but what there was of her torso was enough to tell that the rest of her was 100% natural. And since Lisa Thompson had a reputation for knowing talent when she saw it... Suddenly Kirsten was beginning to understand SMG. * * * * * * * * * * In a lovely double-level house in San Francisco on a quiet residential street, three very beautiful women in their mid-20s to early-30s lived. They usually had to leave the house and work in the day, but this morning the house was not empty. Specifically, the bathroom was occupied. Phoebe Halliwell was letting the water fill the tub as she thought about the past few days. Her job with the Bay Mirror was fun and all, but even in the ultra-liberal City by the Bay there were some folks who wouldn't take kindly to the sort of life she led. And what Piper and Paige would say when they found out who she'd been dallying with right under their own roof didn't bear thinking about... "Oh, who cares what they think?" she giggled. "I'm a big girl now... I've decided I can live with what's happened in the past, but I can't live without you." She fondled her lover's dark hair and sighed. Not a normal human being at all, not even technically a full human, but hers all the same. "And thanks for helping me get over Cole once and for all," she added. "Hey, you're too good for a demon," Max smiled as she fondled her damp lover. "HALF-demon," Phoebe corrected as she kissed Max on her full, soft lips and turned off the water. "Better not flood the floors - you know what Piper's like." "Fuck Piper," Max laughed. "But you first..." "Mmmm," Phoebe murmured as she ran her hands up and down Max's olive body. "I haven't told you this before, but I think that barcode is very hot... turn around." The transgenic stood up, dripping and sensual. Max was stunning in the buff, even better than Phoebe was. Miss Halliwell had no idea how the spell cast to pull the X-5 from future Seattle to present-day San Francisco had worked, or how she had been the key to helping her stop Cole from playing with her emotions, but now all she knew was that she didn't want her to go back. Ever. "Can't I go back to Seattle with you?" she begged as Max gave the witch a view of her perfect body from the back. "You know you can't. The Power of Three and all that," Max pointed out, feeling Phoebe's hands moving up her and encircling her form. "But you can still bring me back here if you need to." "I'll need to," Phoebe replied, brushing aside the hair and kissing Max's barcode. Pressing against the woman, she kissed it again. And again. And again. "Come on, baby... come on..." "...come on, Jessie, time to get up." Jessica Alba broke free from the REM-embrace of Phoebe Halliwell, and looked at the clock. Mike was right - it was time to get up. The first day of shooting for her movie; back in action again. Before she turned to say morning to her fiance, she wondered why she was dreaming about playing Max on "Charmed." Again. * * * * * * * * * * Moving from one acting couple to another... It was a hell of a grind working in TV, and even more when you were on an intense show like "Alias" - if it wasn't the dramatic scenes, it was the action stuff. Not for the first time, Scott Foley wondered a) how his wife could remain so cheerful in the midst of all this, and b) where the hell she found the energy in bed. Jennifer Garner may have been from West Virginia, but her kisses were full of the kind of passion no one ever associated with the Waltons. The bed creaked wildly as Jennifer's slim, fit form twisted under her husband; she clutched him tightly and heatedly whispered to him to poke her harder and harder, to crush her with his bod, to fuck her into the next life... Scott wished he could make a tape of Jennifer's bed talk. It would have helped him get through "Scream 3." But on the other hand, no amount of talking was as good as how she felt - her body was lean but not anorexic, she was fit but not overly muscly... and she gave as good as she got. Scott could have kissed Jennifer's beautiful body all night, and especially the soft little opening between her legs. Jennifer felt her husband flick his tongue on her average-sized but delightful breasts, breathing just a little on the nipples. Even though his breath was a bit warm, she felt them harden almost at once. "Mmmm, yeah...." she sighed in bliss. "Keep going, honey..." She felt his lips on her stomach, and then she arched back as they touched her chestnut box. For someone who looked so boy-next-door, Scott was an expert in giving head; but then, Jennifer Garner had some excellent material for a man to work with. She enjoyed hearing her husband murmur happily into her cunt, and began to stroke him with her long, fine legs - she knew this improved his performance. She cried out as Scott's tongue played with her little button and his hands moved over to her thighs, fondling them up and down as his mouth sucked away. All the tensions and aches of her day-to-day job melted away as Jennifer found herself with nothing on her mind but the heat between her legs. She felt her heart racing faster as she begged her husband to make her come, knowing the only problem was that it meant he'd have to stop... "OooohhhhhhhhHHAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!" Jennifer howled as she issued that familiar musky odour, which Scott inhaled with joy. He didn't like to stop either, but that smell was something to look forward to... he gave Jennifer's clit a final kiss and moved back up her, seeing his wife smile at him in the moonlight that was their bedroom's only illumination at that time. "Not bad," she laughed. "Bring it up here now - it's your turn..." Although Scott had never told any interviewer this, one of the joys of his marriage was that Jennifer was very good at giving head; and the odds on Jennifer Garner going up to a man, requesting that she give him a blowjob, and getting an embarrassed "Not tonight, thanks" would have been pretty low. She went to sleep wondering why Scott gave her just such a response. * * * * * * * * * * * Scott took a while longer to sleep. Their sex life had been good, but it was supposed to be the man who took oral sex and didn't give any, not the other way around. It was a good thing it wasn't the end of the working week - otherwise they would have had time to go all the way, and he might have had to come up with an excuse for not so doing when he had been so enthusiastic before. He carefully got out of bed and went to the bathroom to see if he had been imagining things. Yeah, that was it - he had probably been hallucinating... As soon as the light went on and he saw himself in the mirror, he knew he wasn't. Scott shook his head and stabbed the light out. How the hell was he going to tell Jenny...? * * * * * * * * * * While the movie Jessica Alba had done with Eliza Dushku in England hadn't been the world's biggest hit, it had performed well enough. Plus the two had become close friends during production, which was one reason she had said yes to "Silencers." Another was that it was an all-action movie; though Jessica knew she had what it took to do a nice romantic comedy, she just didn't want to go that route... she didn't want to be The Girl any more than Eliza did. This movie would be a big one. Jessica could almost taste it as she arrived at the New York location - the producers were insistent that they wouldn't get any Canadian cities to stand in at any time. As the director had told her when she signed on for the role, "If the script says we're in Reykjavik, then dammit we're shooting in Reykjavik!" Not that she, Eliza, Brittany Murphy or Gabrielle Union would actually be in Reykjavik, but given the plot - Caitlin (Murphy)'s fiance commits suicide rather than go down for the murder of a lawyer, but Sasha (Alba) and Nancy (Dushku) find out that he was framed, and tell their cop friend Denise (Union), who in one of those standard movie coincidences turns out to be connected to the real murderers, and goes after Nancy and Sasha, who go on the run to find Caitlin, who unknowningly has the key to the whole business... "Doesn't it bother you that men don't have much of a role in this?" asked Tracy Ryan. Tracy was going to be "introduced" to audiences with this movie - she had the role of Caitlin's mysterious friend. (She would later turn out to be an agent after Denise.) She was going to be in the first scene shooting that day, in a restaurant scene with Jessica and Brittany. Jessica pretended to be sunk in thought for a few seconds before laughing. "Hell, no! How often do you get an all-female action movie these days? Besides, they've got a couple of cute guys thrown in for love interest. Plus as long as we keep up the action the guys in the audience won't mind." "That and the fact that they get to look at you and Faith," Tracy pointed out. Jessica had to agree that fighting ladies went down better if they looked good. Then again, how big would James Bond have been if he looked like a CPA? "You know, you're not exactly a bow-wow yourself," she added. "I'm surprised you haven't been in films before." "I haven't been acting long," Tracy told her, noting some passing crew members giving her the eye - she had been getting a lot of that. "I'm looking forward to working with you," she added as her alarm went off. Tracy switched off her watch. "That's my cue..." Jessica watched Tracy head off to shoot her first scene (she herself wasn't required just yet, but the laws of movies meant she had to be on set all damn day). Damn, she looked good. It had been a long time since she had met anyone who made her feel inadequate in that department, but everything comes to those who can wait forever. Tracy's heart skipped when she saw Brittany Murphy coming towards her, all ready to shoot. Like Jessica, it didn't really bother her that there weren't many men with main roles in this one. But then, unlike Jessica, she liked dreaming about other women. * * * * * * * * * * "What the hell kept you?" "Don't jump down my throat, Anna - I can't fly, you know - " "CUT! Cut, cut, cut..." Lisa sighed as Kirsten gave Sara a puzzled look. The director hurried into shot, amazed at how her co-lead had fluffed her lines again. True, she only needed reminding once a day, and she was otherwise perfectly on target - and a real sweetie to work with all round... but it was always the same thing. Give Sara pages and pages of speeches and she could handle it no problem, but ask her to remember the name of Kirsten Dunst's character and whammo, suddenly it was all "Anna" and not "Louise." The weird thing was that it was always "Anna"; it wasn't as if she went for different names each time or went blank. No, as soon as the cameras whirred the lady had to be reminded about calling her Louise. "Should I wear a nametag?" Kirsten asked her co-star. "Would you?" Sara asked. "Because that would be a real help." She held it for a second before laughing. "No, I'll get it this time..." "Yeah. That's the problem," Kirsten said to herself. "What was that, Kiki?" "Oh, nothing." And Kirsten took her place for the second take, waiting for it to go flawlessly; in all her scenes with Sara, the second shot was always the keeper. This whole production was going much smoother without Sarah Michelle Gellar around, in fact. Kirsten put her out of her mind as Lisa called for "Action!" * * * * * * * * * * As the cameras were running, so was Sarah Michelle Gellar. The wee blonde ex-Slayer was running down a road, feeling the heat from the sun. Sarah had been going for hours... she needed to stop, but she wanted to get into the shade, and there wasn't anything nearby - wait, what was that? A diner? Mrs. Prinze Jr. gratefully drew on the last reserves of her energy to run into the food place, checking her pockets as she went in. Her good luck fairy was still hanging around - she had enough for something to drink and to make a phone call. Plus there weren't any other customers inside; she might be able to get it over and done with before... "What'll it be, darling?" asked the waitress. "Anything as long as it's wet," Sarah panted. "And as long as it leaves me enough for the pay phone." "Water it is," the waitress cracked, and took some of Sarah's coinage, ignoring the actress's glare. While it was being poured, Sarah went to the phone in the corner and plugged in some of the rest of the coins, hoping that her luck would hold out... Kirsten arrived in her trailer just as the mobile went off. Wincing at the novelty dialtone that she had installed in a moment of madness (she would change it one day, she kept telling herself) she answered it before it could ring more than twice. "Hello?" "Oh thank God! Kirsten, it's SMG - " "Sarah?" Kirsten repeated, her mind caught off-guard for the second time. "Listen, I can't stay long - you need to know there's a reason I'm not there." "Doyyy! It's because you were being a BITCH, Gellar!" "No... well, yes, but the real reason is - oh, SHIT!" The line was suddenly filled with crashes and curses, as Kirsten's face turned to alarm. "Oh God, NO!! NOT AGAIN!!!" Sarah screamed. "They're coming, Kiki! Listen for the screech! KIRSTEN, LISTEN FOR THE SCREECH!!!" Then the line went dead. * * * * * * * * * * "So what did you want to talk about?" Jennifer asked that evening. "You sounded pretty worried when you left the message..." Scott had been rehearsing it in his mind all day, and all of the day before. It would hurt, but if it was out in the open it would be the first step to fixing everything. He just hoped she could forgive him... "You know Ellen?" "Ellen DeGeneres?" Jennifer joked. "Ellen McArthur? Ellen 'ighwater?" Scott was silent. "Oh Jesus... Ellen Devereaux?" Scott nodded. "After you introduced me to her that weekend, she went over to a bar and asked me to come along for a drink or two. I figured what the hell, it was only a drink... she kept buying the stuff, and the next thing I know we're at her place..." He looked like he wished he could just commit suicide. "It was just a couple of kisses, a few hugs... she tried to give me a little head... I don't know what else happened after that, because all the drink was kicking in." Jennifer was silent, and fuming. He had come back with a hangover, but... "She drove me home afterwards," Scott finished. "The thing is, when I went in the - " "Shush," Jennifer interrupted. "I can't believe what I just heard... lying to me all this time..." "I know - damn, I'm so, SO sorry..." "It wasn't your fault, Scott - I was talking about Ellen. All this time we were working out together and she's trying to steal my husband? Getting you drunk just so she could get you into bed?!" Jennifer was wide awake with all the anger she felt. "Is that why you couldn't go all the way the past few nights? Because you were ashamed?" Scorr couldn't say anything; he simply looked at his stunned wife. "We're doing some fight scenes tomorrow, and I'm going to have a word with that two-timing beanpole. Don't worry, honey," she added more gently, "we'll sort this out. It'll be okay." "I hope you're right," Scott said. "I really do." * * * * * * * * * * Ellen could see more than a few of the other women in the bar looking at her jealously. Which was just how she liked it; she loved being the centre of attention. Working with Jennifer Garner was a good way to get a foot through the door; stuntwomen were never famous on their own. But once she got a shot at her own roles... hell, she knew she could act when she got the chance, and coupled with her not needing any stunt doubles herself, plus her looks - nothing would stop her. "Here you are," the waitress chirped, placing a beer in front of Ellen. "I didn't order this," she pointed out. "Compliments of the lady in the red wig over there," the waitress explained. Ellen scanned the bar for her booze-buyer... uh-huh. Through the cigarette smoke she could see a tall woman in a light top and mini-skirt, with shades and a red wig. Ellen shook her head in disbelief - Jennifer was tracking her. But she had bought her a drink, so she downed it in one gulp before beckoning her to come over. Strolling over there and getting as much eye action as Ellen had, Jennifer set herself down. "Enjoy the drink?" "Not my usual brand, but not bad." "Good - let's get down to business. You want to do it here or in the ladies'? Because it might go very, very wrong." Ellen considered it. If they did fight it would be bad for both of them, but it would be worse if it was in the open. "Ladies." * * * * * * * * * * "Howard, are you okay?" Howard Johnson put his head in his hands and groaned silently, before saying "Yeah mum, I'm okay!" instead of shouting "Sis went and took my ice cream bars again and I keep getting laughed at at school so NO I'M NOT OKAY DAMMIT!" He knew that a little acquiescence bought you a lot of peace at home. "Your dad and I are going out for the evening, and Nancy'll be home in a couple of hours, so you've got the place to yourself until then, okay?" "All right," he called back to the door his mum was standing outside, not letting his sudden uplift of spirits show. Finally - a couple of hours to himself. Howard wished they'd hurry up and go. * * * * * * * * * * "What were you doing with my husband?" Jennifer demanded the second she and Ellen were inside one of the stalls. "Fucking him," Ellen replied calmly. "Why?" "One - he's cute. And two - because I can." Ellen grinned at the actress with all the assurance of a woman who just didn't care about the trouble she caused. It was also an invitation for Jennifer to whack that shit-eating grin off her face. "His come wasn't bad either. Of course, you probably forgot how it tastes," she added. This time Jennifer accepted the invite, punching Ellen right in the mouth. Her fist hurt, but it would be worth it to see the whore's mouth's bleeding, or even a broken tooth. Jennifer Garner wasn't Lennox Lewis, but she could definitely do some damage when motivated, and if this wasn't motivation... Ellen gave Jenny a second helping of the grin. With the force of the blow and the small space there should have been something there - even a burst lip. But it was like she had faked the blow. And as Jennifer looked closer she saw there was something strange about Ellen's teeth... it looked as if inside her mouth there was... "You just made the second biggest mistake of your life, Garner," Ellen said calmly. "What was the first?" "'Pearl Harbor,'" Ellen cracked, and with even more strength than she had given herself credit for, slammed Jennifer against the side of the stall and shoved her fingers down inside her jeans. "Shit... what are you DOING?!" Jennifer shouted as Ellen started to manhandle her cunt, ignoring her struggles. "Tell Kim I said hi," Ellen laughed as Jennifer tried to fight back on one side, but found the warmth between her legs harder to ignore. Jennifer's struggles slowed down as Ellen's fingers tickled, rubbed and fucked her; her face relaxed, and she found herself going limp with delight as the hand did its work. Ellen was an expert in everything... Before Jennifer slipped into a happy blackout, she looked down to her denim-covered legs. The last thing she remembered was a greenish glow... No one noticed that of the two women who went into that bathroom, only one had come out. * * * * * * * * * * Howard had been a very happy bunny when news of Jessica Alba's newest movie had come out. Though he and his dad regularly tuned into "Alias" (father and son jacked off to Jennifer Garner on a regular basis), as far as he was concerned Miss Garner shared the top spot with Miss Alba. At this time, he was studying online pictures of her at some premiere or other. He got his inspiration from evenings like this; studying Jessica's almond eyes, soft skin and cocksucking lips gave him the buzz he needed for his pastime. Slowly stroking his Tower of Power as he gazed into the young actress's eyes, Howard wondered what he should start tonight. Though a lot of the guys at school poked fun at him for the usual reasons (not playing along with their pastimes, etc), he had managed to get several of them on his side thanks to his little sideline; Howard had posted one of his fantasies about the hot blonde from "8 Simple Rules For Dating My Teenage Daughter" on alt.sex.stories.moderated, and somehow one of his friends had seen it and guessed it was him. The friend had asked if he could write one about Atomic Kitten; Howard had given it a go, and word got around... But he always liked it best when his stories were about women he himself would have given body parts to fuck. His young cock was solid as stone as he pulled on it, imagining that Jessica Alba was in front of him, her mouth wide open just waiting for his white cream to drop into it, begging him to give her stuff better than that OAP of a boyfriend, to ram it all the way down her throat... Howard tickled his own balls as he pumped himself, scrolling the pictures up and down, scanning every inch. FUCK, this girl was hot... he licked his lips at the thought of the stuff he had written about her. All the crossovers he had thought up... God, if only someone could get her on that show with Jennifer Garner. That would be soooooo sweet... He looked down at his cock with satisfaction. Jessica would love to have something this big in her mouth. And those soft lips wrapped around this rod... or better yet, her on one side and someone almost as succulent on the other licking the shaft - and she was working with some fine ladies on her movie. Howard smiled blissfully as he mentally went through them... who should he pair her with? Eliza? Gabrielle? Brittany? * * * * * * * * * * Brittany Murphy already had a penis in her mouth. A fake one, but a penis nonetheless. She was sucking it for the benefit of the cameras, but not the ones on set. Tracy clicked away as the blonde moved her tongue and lips over the counterfeit cock, and moved her free hand all over her slim but hardly anorexic body. Since the plot required them to be friends, Tracy had opted to hang around with Brittany, but after the first day's shooting they had discovered they had more than a few common interests. Like women. As Tracy moved around the inside of the trailer snapping away, capturing Brittany from every angle, she paused behind her. Miss Murphy was shaking away as she swallowed, her peachy little ass ready for a pounding. Tracy popped her long middle finger inside her mouth, swirled it around a little, and brought the wet digit back out. "Okay, Britt, let me just set this tripod up for a bit..." "You're joining in as well?" Brittany asked hopefully. Tracy answered by giving Brittany's ass a good hard slap. "WHOOOO!!" she laughed. "Do it again!" Tracy slapped her again, and again, and a fourth time. "Come on, you can do it harder than that!" Brittany howled. "I've been a bad, bad girl..." "And you've got something hidden in there, haven't you?" Tracy tut-tutted, flipping up the moistened middle finger. "Let's get it out of there." She took hold of Brittany's stinging buns and opened up, salivating at what was waiting for her. In front of the two of them was a wall-length mirror; Brittany saw herself gape as Tracy started sliding her middle finger into her tiny asshole. Even though this wasn't the first time Brittany's ass had had visitors, this was the first time she'd gotten it from a woman. And WHAT a woman; even among such prize babes as Alba and Dushku, she stood out. She felt Tracy's finger poke deep inside her chute as she put the dildo aside. This was an all-woman thing now. "Got you all loose now, kid," Tracy murmured as she collected the dildo, still wet from Brittany's sucking. "Hang on a bit..." Fuck.. could this girl be any better? Brittany moaned as Tracy started to lick the opening, dividing the attention between that and her rosy little cunt. She didn't want Tracy to stop stroking her rump either. What she DID want to do was give her some in return. "You'll get your chance," Tracy said softly. What, she read minds now? But Brittany only let that bother her for a second, because Tracy's tongue was moving inside her cunt now, exploring and loving her. Brittany started to stroke herself as well, playing with her breasts and wishing that she could fuck herself... "AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHFUUCCCKKKKK!!!!" she cried. Tracy had replaced her tongue with the inches that had previously been in her mouth. Brittany Murphy was getting butt-fucked by a woman for the first time, feeling Tracy rubbing her ass at the same time she was sticking that dildo up it. "UH... UH... AHHH...!!!! OH SHIT YES THAT'S GREAT TRACE... YOU'RE A STAR BABY!!!" Brittany howled as her lover kept it up, going in and out of her soft, cute butt. Brittany threw another look at the mirror. She had to see herself getting cornholed to fulfil the experience, wanted to see Tracy's look of joy. The woman in the mirror standing behind the supine actress did look as if she was enjoying fucking Brittany Murphy's ass. But the woman in the mirror wasn't Tracy. * * * * * * * * * * At that moment, Jessica and Eliza had arrived at Brittany's trailer - they'd been having an argument and wanted, hell NEEDED Brittany to settle it. The trailer was definitely rocking with Brittany and Tracy's activity when they got there. Listening in, Eliza chuckled - "Just can't stay away from the crew, huh Murphy?" "Like you can," Jessica pointed out. "Look, let's leave her alone and come back when she's-" but that was as far as Eliza got, because Brittany screamed. It cut the two actresses to the quick; Brittany had been yelling all through the proceedings, but this one sounded as if something was happening in there that was far worse than just fucking. Years of martial arts training had left Eliza and Jessica with the ability to do some stuff for real, such as kicking down doors. The two raced inside, expecting to see Brittany being in an S&M thing that had gone wrong, or worse. Eliza was just ahead of Jessica, and the former's sudden stop caused the latter to run into her. "What is it, El? What... HOLY SHIT!!!" Jessica yelled when she got a look. The room was perfectly intact, except for a slight sinking in the middle; Brittany Murphy was visible in the centre of it from the waist up, surrounded by a green light, desperately scrabbling for a hold to escape. "What the fuck....?!?" Eliza said, dumbfounded. "It's Tracy!" Brittany screamed. "She's... she's not Tracy! HELP ME!!!!" "Hang on, Britt!" Jessica shouted, running towards the centre of the room and dropping on her front as Brittany sank in further. "Where's Tracy!" "She... she's some kind of FREAK! She..." Brittany's already wide eyes widened further as she sank into the opening further. "HELP ME, DAMMIT!!! SHE'S DOING THIS TO ME!!!" Jessica grabbed Brittany's right hand and held it tight. "Come on, I've got you..." She started to pull, but whatever was dragging Brittany down was strong. Soon only Brittany's head and her right arm were visible as Jessica tried to fight back. "No! NO!!!" Brittany cried. "LET GO!!!" "I'm not leaving you here!" "YOU CAN'T COME, JESSICA!!! YOU CAN'T..." Brittany kept screaming as she finally sank into the opening completely, and still holding on Jessica started to follow. Frozen with fear, Eliza Dushku watched as the opening swallowed Jessica Alba and sealed up when she was all gone. * * * * * * * * * * That evening, Eliza reflected on how she had done her best acting ever, explaining how they had disappeared on a whim. Eliza had taken care to put the blame firmly on the new girl, but she could tell the producers thought Brittany had been the prime mover. Watching the TV in her room, Eliza dully noted that there was some news story about "Alias." She had the set muted - she didn't like stuff about the competition. Apparently Garner had done a runner over the weekend or something; good, one less rival to worry about. "Damn, isn't there a real news show on?" the sexy brunette said and picked up the remote control - and dropped it as Ellen Devereaux came on screen. Bringing back up the sound, she heard Jennifer's "friend" and close colleague Ellen talk about how great Jennifer was on the set, the usual Disney-inspired spiel. But that wasn't what got Eliza's attention. "Tracy?!" she spluttered, as her mobile went off. Eliza tore her eyes away from the set to see who was calling; it was Kiki, who'd become good friends with Eliza after "Bring It On," enough to make her regret that they weren't going to be doing the sequel. Thank God she had someone to talk to about this - what she'd just seen needed a sounding board... "Hey, Kirsten..." "Hi, Eliza," Kirsten said excitedly. "Look, there's all kind of freaky stuff going on around here..." "Yeah, I heard Gellar dropped out of your movie." "But the thing is, I'm watching this ET piece about 'Alias,' and there's this woman on it who looks exactly, but EXACTLY, like Sara Hathaway..." "What did you say?" Eliza interrupted. "I said she looks a lot like Sara." "Guess what? I thought she looked like Tracy Ryan." The two actresses fell silent for a moment. "Look," Eliza finally said, "we've shut down for the weekend... I think we need to talk." "Talk about what?" "About how in Heaven's name the same girl can be with Jenny Garner in Hollywood, with you in Vancouver and with me in New York at the same time." -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderators: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at Hosted by | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+