Fetish and Fiction: My stories and video clips

Beyond the Movie Script

Chapter 3

As I strode into the director's office, my heels clicked sharply against the floor, each step deliberate and controlled. I wore a fitted black pencil skirt that hugged my hips, with a white blouse that hugged my breasts perfectly with the top button left open just enough to keep things professional but suggest a touch of power.

My long brown hair was neatly styled in a sleek low bun, perfectly polished to match the sharp lines of my tailored outfit. and a pair of sleek black stilettos added a few extra inches to my already confident stature. I had dressed the part of the powerful attorney, and I wasn't in the mood for delays.

The assistant at the front desk barely looked up, offering a vague apology as she informed me that the director was "just wrapping up" and that I'd have to wait. Thirty minutes, they said, as if my time wasn't valuable. I sat in one of the leather chairs, crossing my legs, the pointed toe of my stiletto tapping lightly against the floor. Frustration simmered under the surface, but I kept my expression neutral, reminding myself that this was Hollywood, glamour, chaos and bullshit.

As I waited, I could hear the faint murmur of voices from the set, the crew getting ready for the next scene. It was to be a simple scene but that damn director...

Serena arrived on set with a quiet tension in her posture. Her usually confident stride seems slower, more deliberate. She had mentioned her unease about this particular scene before, the dangerous stunts making her feel vulnerable in ways that acting rarely did. The director reassured her with his polished charm, insisting that everything was under control. But they could see it in her eyes, she wasn't convinced.

I had sent Steve to check in on her earlier that day. He told me she was professional as always, but there was a flicker of hesitation when they discussed the directors plans. Still, Serena knew the show had to go on. She threw herself into character, and began filming. Her character was strong and fearless, much like her, but sometimes even the strongest falter.

While I was still waiting in his office the director I would painfully learn had changed the order of the scenes before I could in person object to the dangerous scene on behalf of my friend and client.

The scene called for a dramatic leap from a height, landing on her feet as the camera zoomed in for a close-up. Serena had practised it repeatedly with her safety harness, but something about this moment felt off. I wasn't there, but later I'd hear how the stunt coordinator had told her everything was fine, the wires secure, the landing pad perfectly positioned. Yet, as the director yelled "Action!" and Serena made her leap, something went terribly wrong.

The snap of the harness echoed like a gunshot, loud and sharp, cutting through the noise of the bustling set. For a split second, everything seemed to slow down. Serena's body twisted awkwardly in mid-air, her arms flailing as she desperately tried to grab onto something, anything, to stop her descent. Her face shifted from concentration and beauty to sheer panic, her mouth forming a silent scream as gravity took over.

She hit the ground hard, her body folding unnaturally, and all the force concentrated on her right leg. It was a sickening sight, the full impact of the fall driving her leg into the hard surface with a violent, bone-shattering force. The sound came next, an unmistakable crack, hollow and gut-wrenching, the kind that made stomachs turn and hearts race. It reverberated through the set, stopping everyone in their tracks as they watched, horrified, unable to look away.

Her right leg buckled beneath her, the unnatural angle making it clear something had gone terribly wrong. She crumpled to the ground, her face twisted in agony, clutching at her leg as if trying to hold it together. Her scream pierced the air, raw and filled with pain, cutting through the shocked silence.

"Help! Please, help! My legggg!" Serena's voice was desperate, trembling as she gasped for air between sobs. "I think I broke my leg!"

The crew rushed toward her, but it was as if the world moved in slow motion, each second stretching into an eternity. Her hand clutched at her thigh, just above her knee, her fingers trembling as they pressed into the fabric of her sexy pantyhose. Her foot hung limply, twisted unnaturally, her high heel kicked off in the fall, leaving her right foot bare and swelling quickly. The glossy sheen of sweat on her forehead glistened under the set lights, and her wide, tear-filled eyes darted around, searching for help, for answers, for anything that could make the nightmare stop.

Every breath she took was ragged, her chest rising and falling in shallow, frantic gasps as her fingers dug into her injured leg, trying to soothe the pain that radiates up through her body. The crew gathered around, but for a moment, no one moved, frozen by the sheer horror of what they had just witnessed.

The on-set medic rushed over, but it was clear from the start, Serena's leg was broken. not just any break, but a severe one, the kind that would require immediate attention and months, maybe longer, to heal. The once-effortless movements of her elegant, long legs were now a source of unbearable pain, twisted unnaturally.

I heard the commotion before I got the call, I could barely breathe. Serena had been hurt, and badly. I rushed to the set, my heart pounding as I imagined the worst. By the time I arrived, the chaos had begun to settle, but the tension in the air was thick.

The first thing I saw was the ambulance parked near the trailers, the flashing lights casting an eerie glow over the quieted set. Crew members stood in hushed clusters, whispering among themselves, their eyes wide with disbelief. I pushed through them, my heels clicking furiously against the pavement, my pulse quickening with every step.

Then I saw her. Serena lay on the stretcher, her face pale and tight with pain, her usual radiant glow replaced by a sheen of sweat. Her sexy long right leg, sleek in sheer black pantyhose, had been awkwardly twisted during the fall, now immobilized in a temporary splint. Her left foot still wore the five-inch heel from the scene, but her right heel had been removed by the fall, leaving her swollen foot exposed beneath the fabric of her pantyhose.

The medics worked carefully, adjusting the splint that ran from her foot up to her thigh, holding the leg still as they braced for the ride to the hospital. As I walked closer, I caught sight of her swollen leg, knee, ankle, foot and the obvious signs of severe trauma in her lower leg. Her foot hung limply, the lower part of her shin broken beneath the thin material of her hose. The EMS team murmured to each other, their faces grim. I overheard words like "tibia" and "fibula", both likely fractured.

"Serena?" I knelt beside her, pushing away my own worry to offer her comfort.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she tried to smile, though the pain was evident. "I really messed up this time, didn't I?" she whispered, her voice shaky.

"Hey, don't talk like that, you did nothing wrong" I replied, trying to sound calm. "You're going to be okay. We'll get you to the hospital, and they'll take care of everything. Just focus on staying still."

She winced as the medics adjusted the splint. "It hurts so bad... I've never felt anything like this."

"I know, you've got this."

Her gaze flickered down to her injured leg, and tears welled up in her eyes. "My leg... what if it's broken? What if I can't walk again without crutches for months? The movie?"

"This is just a setback, Serena. You're strong, and we're going to get through this" I promised, trying to keep my voice steady despite the rage rising inside me. I will kill that fucking director

She nodded slightly, though her fear was palpable. "I may get that long leg cast after all..."

I looked at the EMS team, who gave me a brief nod, signalling they were ready to transport her. "Yes you might, you will look amazing"

Serena's hand gripped mine tighter. "Thank you for being here,"

Steve was there too, hobbling on his crutches, his cast tapping lightly against the ground as he stayed by her side. His expression mirrored my own, a mixture of guilt, worry, sheer madness. I swallowed hard, pushing back the rush of conflicting emotions that threatened to overwhelm me.

Later on that same day, the sterile smell of the hospital hit me as I walked down the long corridor, the bright overhead lights harsh against my tired eyes. Steve hobbled beside me, knee bent to keep his cast off the floor, his crutches making rhythmic thumps on the linoleum floor. We didn't say much on the way, both of us were too lost in our thoughts. The vision of Serena in that ambulance, pale and vulnerable, still haunted me.

When we finally reached her room, I paused outside the door, taking a deep breath before pushing it open. She was so beautiful.

Beyond the Movie Script
Chapter 4 to come
K