Los Cinco Hermanos

Wherein I discover the truth... and volunteer for a life-change

Author's note

: this is part 3 of a 12-part story arc which I've put under Group Sex (see Chapter 1). Like all my stories, it begins with character development and in this case, over several chapters. The chapters can have the elements of a number of different categories and I will try to give advance warning. This one is primarily Group, Bi/Lesbian, First Time and more background. And a gentle reminder: this is all Fiction – Willing Suspension of Disbelief recommended...

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

The only light filtering into Dave's room came from a concrete window well that was more like a mine shaft. Because of the setback into the hill, natural light and ventilation had to be piped down from the lawn above. It gave the room an eerie sort of permanent dusk look to it, without the artificial light to assist. And that's what I woke up to... a very disorienting dusk. And an empty bed.

I thought I remembered most of last night, and obviously it hadn't been a dream or I would've woken up in my hotel room, and not have a rather sore pussy and ass. I remembered showering and falling asleep with Dave, tucking into him like he was a high school sweetheart. The romantic and the libidinous in me had fought it out for dominance last night and the referee – me – declared it a tie. Personally, I think libido won, but not by much.

I struggled to sit up and immediately found several things to warm my heart. First, hot coffee. Right next to the bed. And a note attached to a bottle of pills next to my cell phone. The note read:

Good morning, lovely lady!

The coffee's for you. So are the pills. An Acetaminophen #3, several Aleve, a multivitamin and some Benadryl. They should help any hangover feelings you might have. Molly's washing your clothes.

If you need it, there's Dibucaine ointment in the medicine chest in the bathroom. There's women's clothes in the closet as well as men's. Jerry is very accommodating.

Call me when you want breakfast or just wander upstairs. My mobile is now in your contacts under "Dave LCH". Thank you for a wonderfully fantastic night!

Cheers,

Dave

I decided a trip to the bathroom was top on the priority list, right after slugging down the pills with the coffee. The bedroom had its own bath and I eased out of bed and wobbled over to it, managing to make it to sitting down without falling down or breaking anything. I definitely felt worked over. But, God, I loved it! Maybe I'm part masochist without knowing it.

After realizing how sore my nethers were, I decided the anesthetic ointment was a good idea. I found a tube of Nupercainal in the medicine chest and applied it liberally to my vulva and anus. It stung a little in a couple of places, so maybe I'd torn something taking those guys, but it wasn't bad and didn't last long. I stopped to take a look at myself in the full length mirror before going in search of clothes.

I'm not bad. I'm just not twenty anymore. I have a "woman's body", rather than the skinny girl of my youth. And personally, I think I wear it well. I'm not going to win any beauty contests, but my skin is mostly blemish free, my tits are firm and my ass is toned, as are my arms and legs. I have a slightly rounder belly than I'd like, but that would just be paying closer attention to my diet and exercise. And my God, did I get exercised!

I was sporting a silly grin when I walked out of the bathroom and headed for the closet. Dave was right – Jerry was definitely accommodating. One side of the double-door closet had a variety of men's clothing in various sizes and the other had the same for women.

I riffled through the hanging clothes and found several I could almost wear. I don't really fit "off-the-rack" very well, but I found a white V-cut halter top sundress in a size 6 that I could squeeze into, although it was a bit tight in the bust. Thank goodness for the halter. I actually looked pretty good in it.

I looked around for panties and a bra. Found the panties, didn't find the bra. My impish side decided that was close enough and I'd wear the sundress and go braless. I was feeling very daring this morning.

I found a pair of flip-flops to fit me and thus attired, I decided to seek out breakfast. I would save calling Dave as a last resort. Besides, it was an excuse to explore this beautiful home. I wandered into the hall and back through the living room, to the elevator. Remembering I wanted "1", I pushed it and rode up to the foyer I'd first entered last night.

I walked across the ballroom and through the dining room to the breakfast nook. I didn't see anyone, so I went left, back around the corner of the kitchen and ran into a very pretty woman in denim shorts and a see-through T-shirt. Well, very thin anyway. She was small, maybe 5'2" and had medium brown skin, and very long black hair braided down her back. She looked up as I entered. Oh, my God, her eyes were a brilliant green... a real, honest to God, electric jade color! I stared.

"Hi," she addressed me. "You must be Beth. If you are looking for breakfast, I will have it ready for you in a moment."

She had a very pleasant, soft voice with a bit of an accent... and I suddenly realized 'French', as in French Polynesia. I tore myself out my trance.

"You must be Molly," I observed.

"Yes, ma'am," she told me. "Would you like a lot or a little breakfast? I have just about anything you might want, from bacon and eggs, to fruit and yogurt, to cold or hot cereal, and several different juices, plus coffee. I can do pancakes or waffles, if you'd like."

"Thank you, Molly," I told her. "Let's keep it simple. Some kind of muffin, mixed fruit, orange juice and coffee. Is that okay?"

"Certainly, ma'am," she nodded and put down the vegetables she'd been washing and cutting up.

"I don't mean to stop you from your work," I told her. I definitely didn't want to impose, since I was only a guest here.

"You

are

my work, ma'am," she told me. "I am Mr. Jerry's housekeeper, chef, laundress... whatever. It is no problem. Please, have a seat and give me a minute."

I sat down on a stool near a small breakfast bar and avoided studying the woman, though I really wanted to. It was literally less than a minute before she'd delivered my requested breakfast – a cranberry muffin, cut up melons, grapes, strawberries and mandarin oranges, OJ and coffee, black. I thanked her and dug in while she went back to her food prep.

When I'd finished up and was on my second cup of coffee, I asked Molly, "do you know where I can find the guys?"

"I think they're in a meeting," she told me. "Something glitched with today's plans and I think they're talking about it."

"Do you know where the meeting is?" I asked.

"Probably down in the studio," she told me, "or maybe in the library."

"Studio?" I asked. "Where do I find the studio?"

"Level 3. Straight past the laundry room," she told me. "First time here, huh?"

"Yeah, as of last night," I smiled. "And thanks for breakfast! You have a great day..."

"Yes, ma'am," she nodded with a smile.

I left her to her work and wandered back over to the elevator.

Level 3, here I come!

I thought.

When the elevator doors opened on Level 3, it was a lot less impressive than floors G, 1 and 2. It looked like a massive basement, all concrete and fluorescent fixtures. It was broken up into several areas as far as I could see from the elevator. There was a shop with wood- and metalworking equipment, and I could see a workout area. There was a long corridor through piles of stuff which was obviously storage and a sunlit door at the far end that must have led out to the tennis court.

I noticed a corridor leading back into the hill on my left, so I headed that way. I passed a door that had the word "Quarters" on it and presumed that's where Molly lived. Farther on I passed through the laundry room – with large industrial strength equipment – and found myself facing a steel door with the word "Studio" on it. I opened it and walked in.

It was a little disorienting at first. It was kind of like walking backstage at a theatre. There were all kinds of piping and cables and ducts and stuff running along the ceiling, and there were 2x4-and-canvas flats that were obviously used for building sets. There were racks of clothes, which I figured must be costumes, along one entire wall, and lighting pieces and other general theatre stuff scattered around.

I heard voices – I thought they might be the guys – so I picked my way through the detritus to see if I could find them. I had to skirt around a couple of flats and then I turned into the main stage area. I came to a dead stop. The place looked like a dungeon. A Spanish Inquisition type dungeon.

There were all kinds of tables and stocks made out of pipe and big wooden X's and other stuff, and hanging on the walls were whips and paddles and manacles and chains and God knows what else. There were lights hanging off pipes in the ceiling and three or four tripods on casters and in the middle, another huge bed like the one in Jerry's room, in stark contrast to the medieval torture theme adorning the walls. This was all silks and satins and big throw pillows and such, and sitting on the far side talking were Los Cinco Hermanos.

I got a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach as I realized exactly what kind of filmmaking Jerry might be into. And what today's shoot was supposed to be... the one they'd had to cancel. I was probably looking like a deer in the headlights when Jackson noticed me.

"Man, we got company," he said quietly to Jerry. Jerry looked over and saw me.

"Shit."

It was a simple expression I've occasionally used, but coming from him it communicated volumes.

I wasn't supposed to be there. I wasn't supposed to know about his actual business. And then it hit me... Himeros Productions. Himeros was the Greek god of Lust. A son of Aphrodite and Ares, one of the Erotes, like Eros running around shooting people with his arrows.

Jerry made porn. Fuck. I turned to get the hell out of there.

"Hey, Beth! Wait a second!" Jerry called over to me, but I just kept trying to climb around the mess in my way and get back to the door.

"Hey, wait!" he called again, and I could hear him coming after me. "It isn't what you think!" he called out, then added, "Well, maybe it is, but it doesn't have anything to do with you! Really! C'mon..."

I was so busy paying attention to the floor and Jerry's voice that I didn't notice Jackson standing in front of me, between me and the door. I plowed right into him. Thank God he caught me! Falling could have gotten me severely banged up.

"Um, look, I'm sorry," I started running off at the mouth to him. "I shouldn't be here. I'm interrupting. I'm sorry to intrude. You guys do whatever you're doing. I'll just go back upstairs and get my clothes from Molly and get out of your way..." I wasn't giving him a chance to get a word in edgewise.

So he put his hand over my mouth. To say my eyes were like saucers would be an understatement.

"Maybe you ought to take a breath, ma'am," he told me. "And stop apologizin'. There's nothing wrong goin' on here. And I, for one, sure don't want you to bail with the wrong impression. Maybe you should let Jerry have his say..." He slowly released his hand from my mouth. I was still staring.

"I didn't mean to scare you, ma'am," he told me as he studied my face.

He hadn't scared me. Well, actually, he did. But not that way. I'd been slammed with a flashback to the tie-'em-up games I'd played with my ex. Games I'd liked. Sometimes, if I was running off at the mouth, he'd cover my mouth like Jackson did and tell me I was being a bad girl and needed to be punished. That usually led to restraints, a gag, a light paddling and a major fucking. Sex hadn't been the problem in our relationship. And I was instantly soaking my panties remembering it, standing here in front of this very big, very muscular black man, with the very big cock, who had just done the same thing.

"Beth, listen..." came Jerry's voice from behind me. He and the others had caught up. When he realized I wasn't continuing to run, he looked over at Jackson and told him, "nice bit of broken field running there, 'bro." Then he turned his attention back to me.

"I'm in the film business, Beth," he started to explain. "Part of it is porno. Consenting adult porno. And it doesn't have anything to do with you or the pleasure we all shared last night or anything."

I hadn't turned away from staring at Jackson yet, so Jerry gently took my shoulders and turned me to face him. When he saw my expression, he was startled.

"What did you do to her, man???" he exclaimed to Jackson. "You scared the shit out of her!"

"I didn't mean to," he offered in his own defense.

"He didn't," I managed to squeak. "I did."

"What?" Jerry was definitely confused. So was I, actually.

"Can I sit down, Sir?" and I have absolutely no idea where that came from!

He got a funny look on his face and said, "Sure... you want to go back upstairs?"

I just shook my head. "No. Here's fine," I told him. So he and the other guys led me back to where the big bed was and on the far side of it was a pit group setup around a low table. That's where they'd been holding their meeting. Jerry guided me to one of the couches and I sat down. He offered me coffee and I took it.

"Beth, let me explain..." he started.

"You don't need to," I interrupted him. "You make legitimate porn. Himeros, Greek god of Lust. I remembered. And the call that pissed you off last night was a porn actress you were supposed to shoot with today and she was cancelling. And now you and your Hermanos are trying to figure out if there's anything you can salvage. I'm going to guess one or more of them was going to be an actor for you? God knows, you're all built for it..."

"All of us," Dave said quietly. "The five of us got a wild hair up our collective asses to shoot a porn movie. Jerry already had the production company plus the equipment. All he needed were actors and actresses. Linda's a specialist. She likes doing groups. And she's into kink. So she was going to take on all five of us."

"Now it's starting to devolve into a gay fuck flick," Paul put in. "Not quite what I'd imagined, but I can work with it."

I stared at him. "You're bi?" It seemed incredible.

"We all are," Ron told me. "We're

really

close brothers..."

"We didn't want to scare you away," Jerry told me. "We were having a fantastic night and didn't want to ruin it with too much info."

I sat there, stunned. Jerry was a professional producer of pornography. The others were amateurs but bisexual and into each other. And they had all been teaming up to drive me sexually insane and sate my very, very thirsty libido. Gee... how could I possibly have been scared away?

"So, I wasn't just a warm-up act for your main production today," I told them. The question was implied in the statement.

"No." "No way." "Not even." "Absolutely not." Jackson, Ron, Paul, Dave, in that order.

"I swear to you, my business had absolutely nothing to do with our enjoying each other last night," Jerry finished. "And it would be a real shame if a budding friendship got squashed because of a stupid misunderstanding, especially before it even got a chance to really take off."

"I told you that you could stay for the weekend," he reminded me. "But that we had to work and you could entertain yourself while we were busy. This is pretty much the busy we were going to be and didn't want to drag you into."

"Didn't

want

to?" I asked, my imp fighting her way to the surface. "Or

wouldn't

, for some moral, ethical reason?"

There was an embarrassed silence.

"Wouldn't." Dave finally broke it. "You have to know, Beth, you are one incredibly sexy lady when you pull the mask off. And you're a lot of fun besides that. You'd be fantastic in a porn. But you're not a pro, and you're not used to the work, and you didn't have any warning about what we intended, and it seemed wrong to even

think

about you as a potential actress for our little shoot."

I mulled that one over. "What all, exactly, is involved in being a porn actress?" I asked.

Please understand, I had several things working against me here. I have a naturally high curiosity, I do like novel experiences when done safely, I tend to think I can do anything if I put my mind to it, I had a wild hair orchard bearing fruit, and I was still goddamned randy from the night before.

They all looked at me like I was out of my mind. Maybe I was.

"Well, have sex, obviously," Dave started. "But I'm not the pro here. In fact, this was going to be my first group shoot. I think for all of us, this is our first group shoot, except Jerry."

Group shoot?

I thought.

That implies non-group shoots...

"Have sex is right," Jerry confirmed. "But there's more to it than that. The scenes are scripted and the shots are staged, to get the best camera angles on the most arousing images. There's a lot of waiting while cameras and lights are positioned, and then you're on and you have to perform as if it's all natural. Some girls are instinctively adept at turning it on or off as needed. Oh, and you're doing all this under hot stage lighting."

"Then there's the actual kinds of sex. The ones that give the best shots aren't the usual ones. Missionary is pretty much out unless there's a camera looking up your bum. Anything that spreads your thighs and gives a clear shot of your pussy or ass getting fucked is in. And the fucking includes vaginal, anal and oral, including deep-throating, plus tit fucking and handjobs and footjobs and the like."

"Then you've got multiple partners, same- and opposite-sex, and that's not even getting into the heavier kink. Light bondage and discipline includes tying up, gags, nipple and clit clips, spanking, light whipping, forced cums with vibrators. Leaving out the S&M, heavier bondage includes tit and pussy torture, heavier whipping and spanking, caning, using the St. Andrew's cross and the Wooden Horse, forced orgasms with electro-stim, fucking machines and the like."

"Basically, a lot of physical activity, some very uncomfortable, and a major cardiovascular exercise."

"What's a footjob?" I asked. I don't think Jerry was expecting that question.

"Like a handjob, except you put your feet on either side of the guy's cock and he sort of fucks your feet," he explained. "Um... didn't you get the part about uncomfortable?"

"Yeah," I acknowledged. "What were you going to do with Linda?" Again, I don't think he expected it.

"We hadn't decided," he admitted. "She's the kind of girl who's up for anything, including her Shepherd, if we'd asked her to bring him along. I was going to spend this morning going over scripting and sets with the guys. She wasn't supposed to show up until noon, along with Ginger."

"Ginger," I iterated. "As in, Ginger the bassist from Fuzion. The one who has a daytime job with you."

"Yes, that Ginger. She's my primary cameraman. Or should I say, camerawoman? Or cameraperson? Molly helps out, too, sometimes. If I'm going to do anything fancier, I break down and bring in union help. In this case, I'm putting together a series of vignettes... individual scenes I've filmed over the last couple of years and never used. I figure it'll be like looking through the family album, except all the pics will be of sexual situations. I was going to title this one Los Cinco Hermanos and include it in the compilation. So it isn't a couple of hours long."

"Maybe three to four hours of fucking, edited down to fifteen to twenty minutes for the film."

"Three to four hours of fucking..." My eyes started to glaze over.

"Beth!" Dave snapped his fingers and got my attention. "Remember, Linda cancelled. We have to rewrite whatever Jerry had in mind anyway. I'm pretty sure you're welcome to stay and watch." He glanced at Jerry who nodded. "But I don't know that you'll be that into watching a bunch of guys."