Innocence Lost

by Bradley Stoke

  Another woman whom Innocence knew but considered herself fortunate to have never performed with was all of forty stone in weight - which meant she was more flesh than body. She watched with repulsion as the male fuck actors struggled to enter her body through the massive folds of fat that totally obscured her vagina. Her sheer bulk meant that these actors were literally risking their lives to fuck her. If she fell on top of one of them while he was inside her it would probably terminate more than his career.

  Innocence was glad she’d avoided being typecast in piss films, sadomasochistic films, ear-fucking, child sex, razor slashing, cat fellatio, tree fucking or anal fist-fuck films. On the whole, those that did resort to this sort of film were not especially physically attractive. Fifteen was rather an exception in that respect. Innocence’s blessing was that her marketability was not just due to her unusual assets, but that, as was made increasingly apparent to her, she was a very attractive woman who didn’t need the surgery or hormonal treatment to develop large breasts, massive buttocks, green skin or split vaginas.

  Nevertheless, she still felt slightly soiled by the fact she was working in a profession where, however much the film makers she associated with might hold dear to certain high moral, political or sexual principles, there were many others whose only criterion of judgement was the number of units their product would sell - and as perversions sold well these were particularly attractive to them: the more gross, uncomfortable and generally unpalatable the better.

  However, as Dodie often reminded her when she reflected on her career and where it was taking her, it was through her work that she’d been able to afford the beautiful flat she was renting and she was enjoying this work rather more than working behind the bar at a Night Club.

  Innocence knew Leon owned his own business, but she had no real idea of what it might be. It wasn’t something she cared to ask about when she last met the man in Congress. So it came as something of a surprise to discover that he was the owner of Fuck Flicks, a fuck film company famous for its catalogue of homosexual and transsexual videos. The discovery didn’t come until after she’d been in several films already where she had performed in her normal capacity, knowing that for the target audience the only fundamental difference between her and the transsexuals usually involved in these productions was that her body was entirely her own and had no enhancement or alteration made to it whatsoever.

  She was surprised while viewing the early cut of the film in the company’s Congress office to see a picture of Leon hanging on the wall, naked as always, and smiling in a strangely paternal way. She stood up in the office where the director and several of the cast were watching a scene in which Innocence was fucking a young man who in turn was fucking a slender black girl with fashionably short cropped hair a bit like a tonsure (the fashion was no longer for totally shaven heads). She examined the picture carefully. There was no doubt at all who this bearded, long haired man was. She recognised the twist of tawny hair on his chest and the small scar on his shoulder which he blamed on an unfortunately over-vigorous lover he once had.

  “Does Leon perform in your films?” Innocence wondered.

  “Leon?” asked the director, standing beside Innocence. “Not often. Why? Do you know Mr Legrand?”

  “Yes,” laughed Innocence, who’d not heard his surname before. “I met him on holiday in Brook. What does he do then?”

  The director explained that Leon was the sole owner of Fuck Flicks, and that he also owned a magazine publishing company, several brothels and two Congress Night Clubs. “He’s very rich,” he stated, twiddling the ring that dangled from his left ear. “He made his money in the beginning as a fuck film star, rather like you. As you probably know, he’s very opulently endowed and not at all fussed what kind of sex he indulges in. He made rather a lot of films. I can show you a few if you like.”

  Innocence nodded. It rather changed her view of the man to know he had made fuck films in the past. It was also bizarre he should now be her employer. It had once occurred to her when she was looking for work to ask the man she was fucking if he could find a job for her, but she had decided not to as it seemed somehow the wrong thing to require of a lover (even one who was unable to penetrate her). She now understood why Leon never offered her work. He probably felt that Innocence would be offended at the suggestion, which she reflected was very likely. Her brief experience of appearing in a sex film while in Brook did not seem quite the career move then as it did now.

  The director waited until after the screening of the video they were watching, Howard’s Rear End. Like many films made for the male homosexual audience its focus of attention was on taut male buttocks. Innocence played the rôle of someone whose unusual assets were never commented on but were fully enjoyed (as was the convention for transsexual films), and who had developed an affection for a house in the countryside where she had once had sex with a number of people. Unusually, this orgy scene was near the beginning of the film. Throughout the film she made love with several men who also made love with each other and with several women who had very little sex with anyone except her. At the end, she obtained the house and the film ended with an open-ended fuck scene with the Howard of the title shitting on the lawn in the foreground.

  When the cast left after the screening, Innocence remained with the director and his boyfriend, a tall man with very long hair and a quite thin beard. The director pulled out a video entitled Leon of Arabia, and put it in the video player.

  “This is Leon’s first film and as you can see right from the start he had a leading rôle…”

  “Not surprising with a dick like his!” commented his boyfriend. “Ooohh! The lucky bastard. I so wish….”

  Innocence watched the film which had a very flimsy plot of young men in desert sceneries waving swords and yelling, but for much longer admiring, pawing over, sucking, licking and revelling in Leon’s monstrous appendage. He was frequently fucked from behind, but even then, the young Leon, whose beard was quite thin and whose chest had only the promise of future hirsuteness, was just a little too well endowed to have any hope of returning the favour.

  “As you can see, not an arse in the world can accommodate that monster!” exclaimed the director. “I’ve seen pricks of all sizes - and I’ve probably seen the biggest the world has to offer. Some are long and thin and though you can’t get all the prick in your arse, at least you can get some of it in. At least some of the way!”

  “And you can’t walk straight for a week after!” laughed his boyfriend.

  “And then there are big ones that can only get in cunts and can’t get in arses at all. And then there’s Leon’s prick! Apparently there’s only one cunt in the whole world he can get his dick into. And what’s more he can get it all the way in!”

  “She must have the biggest fanny in the world!” exclaimed his friend. “I’d love to have a taste of Legrand’s whopper. I bet he comes like a fucking beer can!”

  Innocence didn’t wish to elaborate on her first hand experience, and stayed in her seat to watch more videos. There was The Prickholder, which was a relatively sad, short sex film that showed the difficulties Leon had fucking the Asian wife of the title and how they came to a mutually acceptable compromise where she would masturbate him while forcing her fingers up his anus. Another film was called The Importance of a Good Fuck, and featured the frustration Leon had fucking some transsexuals and a few men after being mistakenly invited to a cucumber sandwich party.

  “Doesn’t Leon ever have a satisfying time in any of his films?” Innocence wondered.

  The director skimmed through the video titles. “The Portrait of Dorian’s Penis? No, at the end of the film he has to accept that he can masturbate but not fuck. Fuck and his Friends? No, that doesn’t end very well either. I think you’re right, Innocence. Leon hasn’t had that much fun in his film career. Perhaps that’s why he went into production rather than acting.”

  “Queer and TS films weren’t meant to be fun when Leon was making them,�
�� remarked his boyfriend. “It was meant to be tragic and sad. You weren’t supposed to fancy pricks and have a good time. You were supposed to have some kind of misery associated with it. It’s not like that these days. And that’s how I prefer it. If you want to wank over someone else’s prick, you don’t want to finish feeling pissed off about it. You want to feel like going off and fucking someone yourself.”

  XXVI

  In Which Innocence is made more widely available and Dodie enjoys Innocence with a client.

  Innocence had never known as much wealth before as her new pornographic career promised her, but she and Dodie were spending it with a wild abandon that was both reckless and, as it turned out, foolish. There was not only the extortionate rent she was paying for their expensive Congress flat. There were income tax bills to be met. There were the purchases on furniture, computers, audio and visual equipment, original paintings and decorator’s bills. There were also expensive nights out in restaurants and night clubs. And all of these were purchased on credit meant to be paid by future earnings. However, Innocence’s income was much slower in arriving than the bills and she worried just how she could possibly afford all that she now owed.

  She and Dodie spent a few distressing evenings in front of the log fire studying the bills and calculating their future earnings on the spreadsheets of their notebook computer. The sums just did not balance. The choice was stark. Either they had to reduce the outgoings and perhaps pawn off some of their purchases or find a way of increasing their income.

  “Perhaps I should sell my body,” reflected Innocence sadly.

  Dodie laughed, hugging her lover’s naked body close to her and idly stroking her penis. “Don’t be silly, sweetest! You already do that.”

  “No,” said Innocence in deadly seriousness. “I mean prostitution. I mean selling my body for sex for immediate tax free benefits. I’ve had a few offers from escort agencies and brothels to service their clients. I’ve always ignored them, but perhaps I should be more open to it.”

  “Oh, don’t do it!” Dodie exclaimed. “I’d hate to think of strange men fucking you. I tremble at the idea of some fat overweight man’s prick stuck deep inside your sweet arse.”

  “As you say, how’s that any different to what I already do for a living?” Innocence asked Dodie. “Why not do it for the money I’d earn? It’d soon put us in the clear.”

  Innocence’s lover couldn’t dispute the truth of that, although she believed that fucking in front of the camera was somehow more acceptable than doing the same thing in the capacity of a prostitute. “At least in fuck films it’s a kind of make-believe,” she claimed rather uncertainly.

  It didn’t seem like make-believe to Innocence whose penis and arse were often quite sore for days after a gruelling filming session, but the two girls reluctantly came to the conclusion that it would indeed resolve their immediate cash flow crisis. The following day, Innocence telephoned some of the proprietoresses of brothels and escort agencies whose cards she’d retained when they’d been offered her. It wasn’t too easy to find them all, as they were scattered about in several trouser pockets and handbags, and some had been used for shopping lists, roaches or for jotting down other people’s telephone numbers.

  The procuresses and proprietoresses were all delighted at the prospect of representing Innocence, and within hours she found her diary full of appointments at hotel foyers and homes in smart parts of the town. She dressed up in the expensive revealing clothes she was advised to wear, including rather more underwear than she usually ever bothered with. As she pulled on the stockings and secured the garters she was reminded why she never troubled herself with them. Dodie was very dismissive of the image she presented: her face heavily made up and her hair tied back off her face.

  “You mustn’t believe that you’re the part you’re playing,” she pleaded. “Don’t forget you’re only doing it to solve our immediate crisis. You mustn’t make a permanent career out of it.”

  Innocence nodded and waited anxiously for the taxi to arrive to take her to her first client. This was a rather fat man who was quite as unattractive in appearance as Dodie feared. He had a short stubby beard that brushed uncomfortably against Innocence’s face as he slobbered over her, and he was very quick in pulling off her clothes so that he could have a long stare at her penis. He greedily pushed it straight into his mouth, despite the fact that it was still quite limp and showed very little promise of becoming fully erect. Innocence, however, was a professional by now. She knew how to stimulate herself and, despite her physical revulsion, she brought her penis up to an erection.

  Fortunately for her, the man’s tastes were rather more in being fucked than doing the fucking, so Innocence was spared the discomfort that usually followed a night of buggery and spent her time while thrusting into his flabby hairy buttocks visualising her lover, Dodie, and thinking of her beauty. Most of the night was spent in bed with the man wrapped around her, moaning constantly about his frigid wife, his ungrateful children, his sluttish mistress and the punitive tax system.

  Not all Innocence’s clients were as easy as her first. Some were rather keen on buggering her and took particularly pleasure in the pain it sometimes caused her, adding to it by aggressively squeezing her breasts and pushing her into unnatural positions. The only consolation Innocence found in these circumstances was the thought that these extra torments would appreciably increase the size of her final invoice and be reflected in a more sizeable tip. Some clients were more insecure and nervous. They had either clearly never had sex with a woman as beautiful as her before or were novices to having sex with anyone endowed with a penis. These men were generally happy for Innocence to do all the fucking, and sometimes weren’t interested in penetrative sex at all (though they would be charged for it anyway).

  Innocence discovered that much of the time spent with such clients was in conversation. The sex was just an excuse to spend time with a beautiful woman and offload on her all their worries and concerns. Innocence had sympathy for some of them. Not all of them were interested in her merely because they wanted a more varied sex life. There were those who had recently lost their wives or partners through bereavement, divorce or separation, and for whom Innocence was just a pale substitute for the love they had lost. There were others who dared not admit their homosexual taste to their colleagues, family or friends, and found the service of male or transsexual prostitutes to be the only outlet they could find for their irrepressible desires. Many, however, saw Innocence as a purchase just like any other. She was viewed in much the same way as a good meal in a restaurant, business class in an aeroplane, or a visit to the opera. She was just another affordable luxury and from whom they expected a luxury service in accordance to the vast sums they paid for her services.

  All of them were in awe at her body. It just didn’t seem possible that a woman so feminine in almost every way could be blessed with a penis that functioned so well and was so naturally appointed. Some looked for evidence of operations that would explain her appearance. Did she have the penis grafted on? Or was it the breasts? Innocence endured this scrutiny, as she did the sex, by focussing her mind on the returns it brought her and how much it helped reduce her never-ending debts.

  “You can’t do all this work yourself!” Dodie protested as she listened to Innocence’s accounts. “It’s not fair that the debts we’ve both incurred should be entirely paid for by your hard labour. You must let me do some work as well.”

  Innocence was very reluctant to do so. She loved Dodie too much to willingly let her suffer in that way. But Dodie was insistent. She clung to Innocence, her hand gripping the length of her warm firm penis and her head buried on Innocence’s shoulder where she felt the moisture of her lover’s tears. “We must do this together! It’s not right that you do so much for me and I do so little.”

  Innocence at last relented but only on the promise that the two should work in tandem, so Dodie shouldn’t be left entirely to the mercy of a client by herself. Alth
ough Dodie pointed out quite correctly that she was at least as experienced in sex with men as Innocence, albeit in a non-professional capacity, Innocence was adamant that she not be left totally unprotected. She could also see that despite Dodie’s enthusiasm for sex with the men and women she met at night clubs and parties, it was quite a different thing to be fucked by a man with whom she’d not really chosen to have sex.

  Innocence informed her procuresses of Dodie’s wish that the two of them be made available for services as a couple, rather hoping that her offer would be turned down. As luck would have it, however, the procuresses were delighted at the suggestion and it was within a day that she and Dodie had their first joint appointment with a client. Innocence was relatively pleased to learn that he was quite young in comparison to many clients, being in his mid-thirties and apparently not disfigured in any way. However, when Innocence and Dodie arrived at his town flat in the Congress City centre, not too far from the seat of government, he certainly didn’t appear very handsome. He wore thick glasses that didn’t disguise his prominent squint.

  “You’re here, yes. Very good, yes. I want you to take off your clothes right away, yes,” he commanded.