The Circular Object Mark I and II story, characters and concept copyright \xA9 Gregg G Guydish 2001, 2002 et al except the following: Zig Zag is copyright \xA9 Max Black Rabbit. Everything contained in this document \xA9 Gregg G Guydish, all rights reserved.
The Circular Object MARK II
\xA9 2001, 2002 Gregg G Guydish
Prologue
The Unspeakable Act
Trust:
1 a: Confidence in, or reliance on, some quality or attribute of a person or thing.
1 b: Assured reliance on the character, ability, strength, or truth of someone or something.
2 a: To have faith or confidence; to place reliance; to confide.
2 b: Confident expectation of something: hope.
The distant past…
"CUT!"
Zig raises a paw to her head as
she steps onto the set. She looks down
on the two performers as they relax from their positions, the cameramales and technicians checking their equipment as
they wait on their director.
"Donna, what the hell are you doing?" She drops her paw and stares angrily down on
the bound female. "That's the third
time you've blown the scene by talking!
You're supposed to be submissive, terrified. This is not a tea social full of polite
conversation! You screw this up one more
time and I'm going to muzzle you!"
She turns her deadly gaze on Miguel, the brawny husky stud. "And you! STICK TO THE SCRIPT!" He recoils from her hostility. "But, Zig,"
he glances at a genuinely scared looking Donna, then back
to his boss "the script is so vulgar.
Do we really hafta use words like
that?" "Look, this guy's a
user. Sure he's scum, but that's what
the part calls for. If you don't feel
you can handle it I'll get someone who can.
You want a paycheck or not?"
He holds his paws up in a placating gesture. "Okay, boss, no problem. I'll do it just like the script
says." "And give it some
feeling this time!" She stalks off
the set and resumes her seat, motioning for the floor manager to proceed. He runs thorough his checklist. "Camera one?" "Check." "Camera two?" "Check." "Sound?" "Check." He does a visual inspection of the set,
equipment and lighting. "Positions!"
He calls, then, a heartbeat later, "Roll 'em!" The cameras start up and
Zig watches as the scene plays out before her, her gaze intent on the actor's performances, a disturbingly similar scene playing behind her eyes. Every one of her failed relationships, every lousy lover, every ungrateful friend summed up and embodied in Miguel's character, and every terrified moment of her life in Donna's. Her jaw is set hard, her eyes cold, and dark. Their glassy wetness reflecting everything that is happening before her like scenes played into tiny mirrors, a secret horror all her own, whispering into the deepest pit of her soul. Miguel raises his paw as if to strike the bound and quivering Donna and she shies her head away from him, a whimper escaping her lips. The husky lowers his paw, then leans down low over her, Zig taking note approvingly as camera two follows the action smoothly. It's good to know that someone around here knows what they're doing.
"You worthless little bitch." He breathes hot in her face as she twitches her head to the side. "You useless bag of fur." He sneers at her. "I'm gonna teach you the lesson your poppa shoulda taught you when you were being whelped." He rises above her, showing his large erection to both her and the camera. "And there ain't nothin' you can do about it, niether." He grins evilly and with harmful intent. "Your momma can't help you, your little sister can't help you, only your daddy can give you what you deserve!" He moves to mount her as she struggles against the restraints, her head shaking from side to side as if in denial. "I'm gonna show you just what good you're for you little freak." And he mounts her roughly, her head going back in a howl as he thrusts into her, she crying out "No!" over Miguel's next line. "You little c…"
"CUT!"
Zig stands so abruptly her chair topples over behind her. All heads snap immediately around to look at her where she stands quivering in anger. She breathes heavily through her nose, her paws balled into tight fists at her sides and speaks, grinding the words out between clenched teeth. "Someone get me a muzzle…”
The beginning.