Thread: Inside Power Exchange [GypsyRose & Dane Stalling]

Carole's voice was not precisely strident, but it was forceful, a woman who was used to raising her voice to make herself heard in what was still a mostly male-dominated industry. She was like a dynamo, relatively small in stature but possessed of an indomitable will. She assessed the situation, with Matt and Regan, dismissed it as immaterial, and simply moved on with the matter at hand. Of course, she couldn't resist a little dig, but it was informative rather than mean spirited, and since she didn't bat an eyelid, Regan didn't either, but rather just pulled her sweater down and followed along. Carole, of course, didn't wait for either of them, but it did give them a chance for a quiet word. Me too. She gave a little laugh, and flushed lightly as she had a flash of her kneeling before Matt on the throne, her sweater half off, but her eyes didn't drop. She could still feel the little thrill of it, but whether it was was the atmosphere or just Matt himself, she didn't know. There'd be time to figure that out, though, so she just gave him a quick little smile, reminiscent of the one earlier, and then hurried after Carole before she could call for them to hurry up. Though this was the first time she'd had any sort of major role, she'd been on enough sets that this one didn't phase her. The framework of the club was there, but it was a set, and the difference hit her rather markedly for the first time. In the club, everything was real and steeped in atmosphere. It would be even moreso, in the evenings, when the crowds gathered. The lighting would be muted, strategic, and there would be music and voices, whispers, laughter. The air would be redolent with the odors of fabric and skin, perfumes and colognes, alcohol, perhaps sweetened with the fruit of wine and juices, excitement and lust, hope, nervousness, fear, even boredom adding to the bouquet. Here, the atmosphere would be created by the actors, aided by lighting, props, sound effects and the like. They would not have the benefit of an audience, save for those involved in the production, so it would be up to them to create the atmosphere that would draw people in with their belief ... be that belief manufactured or real. Watching Matt out of the corner of her eye while they fussed over her, lighting, skin, wardrobe, makeup, she found herself quite looking forward to it. The moment in the club had been ... magical ... there was no other word for it. They had become the part, and if they could capture that on screen for the cameras ... Not that it would make either of them instant 'stars' as the word was normally perceived by the general public. Still, it might well get recognition, and consideration for parts of more substance, more general appeal. Finally, they let her escape so that they could discuss some other minutia of the staging -- camera angles, light filters, and exactly where the line was drawn between fascinating and tempting the public and putting them off. After getting herself a bottled water, she found herself wandering over to where Matt was browsing, at the props table. A brief look gave her some sympathy with the opinion that there were certain facets of the sex toy industry that main stream America preferred to have their curiosity stroked but not publicly fucked. While Regan wasn't all that shocked or bothered, she imagined that there were several members of her family that might faint dead away if they'd seen Matt brandishing his camo dildo ... even if they'd be doing clandestine internet searches sometime later from the privacy of their laptop or tablet. It's the latest thing for surprise sex in the tall grass, she quipped, tapping the package with a tip of her water bottle. They'll never know what, uh .... she finished the sentence with a waggle of her brow, before laughing. Or maybe it's for those with a fetish for military men. As soon as she'd said it, she found she could picture Matt in the fatigue uniform of a soldier, perhaps with a little special forces beret and polished boots quite easily, and shut her mouth with a snap, though she kept smiling. I wonder where they got all these things. Either they've got a huge budget, or their documentary is being sponsored by Alibaba. She nodded to the prominent name on more than a few of the props. You know what Joey asked me ... he wanted to know if I had any piercings. He was disappointed that they won't be able to use the chains that attach to studs in the nipple. He seemed ready to demand that I get some until Carole told him that they wouldn't have time to heal before shooting. Thank God for small favors. She sorted through some of the props, gingerly, taking care not to leave wet fingerprints from the condensation on the water bottle, and settled on a relatively safe looking pair of long black gloves, amusingly labeled 'Vampire Gloves'. It seemed an affectation, until she turned the package over and saw the little rows of teeth on the back, presumably made of the same material as the gloves. Have you ever used any of these things? The question was light, but anything but idle as she gave him a sidelong glance. Some of the things she'd heard them talking about ... how much they could get away with showing ... had her a little nervous ... but not so nervous she was ready to back down. Asking the question sort of obligated her to answer in turn if he asked. It was, she admitted in the silence of her thoughts, rather exciting to see all these things out in the open. She rather suspected that most women her age had used a vibrator or dildo at one point or another, but she couldn't remember it ever being the subject of a serious discussion with any of her girlfriends ... much less with a man she'd known for the space of a handful of hours.