Bleached Blonde Latinas was originally titled Bleached Blonde Latinas vs the Boner Boys, but Jane dropped the latter half once she decided that it was better used as the title for her Molester serial. Los Angeles had a large Japanese community, and for those in the know, real-life Soaplands existed. Jane knew the proprietor of one, having filmed there in the past, and Mama-san had unfettered access to Japanese men in their various stages of nudity. She knew what Jane liked: eighteen to twenty-one, fat-Free, no chest hair, and a penis of interest. The latter was subjective of course, but Jane trusted the woman’s judgement so she didn’t hesitate to meet and audition two men who had emailed to state their interest. She asked Arlene and Oliva if they wanted to be there for the big event, which was a dumbass question, and Jovi and Koh were there as well – no surprise there either.

Olivia had been one of the founders of Donkey Productions, cashed out when Hideki came calling, and now found herself back in. She and Jane had similar tastes concerning the product, and in areas where Jane was weak, Olivia was strong. Like Connie, Olivia knew what men wanted, and it wasn’t always legs and thighs. A lot of men were consumed by breasts, and Olivia’s were her best feature. She was a little fat in the Ass perhaps, but flawless everywhere else; and besides, weren’t fat asses in nowadays? She had simply been ahead of the curve.

Arlene of course always looked like a tart, regardless of the occasion, but today she outdid herself. “What do you think,” she said, doing a little twirl.

“I think you should have worn panties,” countered Jane.

“Shit, you mean I’m not?’ Arlene lifted her dressed up. “Damn,” she said, wearing a sheepish grin. “Jimmy’s away, and I’ve forgotten how to dress myself.” She laughed. “That’s how fucking dependent I am on him.” Arlene loved being the female star of Soapland, with all of its perks and rewards, one being that a handsome man with a large penis was usually around to help her get dressed.

Jovi and Koh both loved being in the company of gorgeous women. Their own nudity had become so casual that it was a non-issue. No matter what transpired, no matter how demeaning it might feel at times, they knew they’d be getting more Sex and more orgasms than they ever dreamed of, so they were happy just to go with the flow. Being in a perpetual state of horniness had its merits, when it led to gratification. Koh had been a chick-with-a-dick ever since Marlow took him under her wing and Jovi; well, he spent so much time hanging around Jane and fucking the women in her circle that he was developing houseboy traits simply by osmosis. He had already overstayed his time in Los Angeles, but Hideki was scheduled to be arriving in about a month’s time, and Jovi had been asked to delay his return. He didn’t know it yet, but Hideki saw him as someone who could be groomed to take over the Adult entertainment branch of his empire. Was there a better way to learn the business than from the ground up? Better Jovi should enjoy his time in Tinsel Town, sow his wild oats, and perform for his Wife‘s Porn company. Should he be concerned that his benefactor knew he was fucking his Wife? Apparently not, because Jovi was going to end up being cast as one of the Boner Boys.

****

Nobody knew Clem’s real name, and nobody cared, because once he removed his clothes he acquired a new one. Three short-skirted females and two naked men faced him as he entered the room. Akira was already there, already nude, standing off to the side. Clem wasn’t sure what he was walking into, but his instincts told him that it was something good. He wasted no time in the removal of his clothes. “Whoa, that’s a first,” said Olivia. “We usually tell you when to strip.”

Clem smiled. “Cut out the middle man,” he replied. He was short and scrawny, he wore his dyed-red hair in a mock afro. Akira looked at him warily. This was his competition?

“Keep the speedos on,” Arlene instructed. To Jane’s puzzled look she said that he ‘looked cute in them’.

Clem was in awe over the two naked men who sat between the girls. Lucky bastards, he thought. It hadn’t escaped his attention that the slutty-looking skank who had told him to keep his underwear on had her hand resting on the groin of one of the men, and it was perilously close to his cock. He’d give anything to be in that position.

“Before we start,” said Jane, “What made you guys go to the Soapland?”

The two men looked at each other, with Akira finally speaking. “I’ve been going there since I broke up with my girlfriend…I haven’t found another one yet. I like penis massage. The madam told me I had a nice body, and I should consider doing Porn, so here I am.” Akira admitted his fondness for Donkey videos, and he could scarcely believe his good fortune when the business card handed him was for Donkey Productions. He was the older of the two, having recently turned twenty-two. Clem confessed that he was sexually inexperienced, so for his eighteenth birthday his friends pooled their money and bought him a Soapland experience.

“When did you turn eighteen?”

“Last month. I met a pretty girl there. She said I could have Sex with her if I wore a condom.”

“And did you?”

Clem smiled. “I needed the practice.”

Jane did the math. Akira was a regular customer. Clem went there one time and made such an impression that he got a recommendation. Score one for Clem.

“I got a question,” said Olivia. “There’s a lot of naked men there, right? Do you guys ever…you know, see gay stuff going on, like in the Shower or something?”

Akira hadn’t, but it wouldn’t faze him if he had because, as previously stated, he was a Donkey boy through and through. If Donkey men sucked dick so would he. He relaxed, thinking he gave a good answer. The company’s videos were big on bisexuality, and they were probably sounding him out on his willingness to do the things expected of a male performer in their employ.

Clem’s interests were more like those of a chikan, because when asked what he fantasized about when masturbating, he spoke of dominating women, being in control and fucking them hard. Perhaps if he got some additional experience from doing Porn, his technique would improve. Besides, he had heard that Donkey Productions did some kinky stuff. At the very least, he was curious. And just like that, Jane’s chikan fantasy had a starting point.

Clem was about to become Little Dickie. All it would take was for him to remove his underwear and display his junk. Though it reached an almost respectable length when erect, first impressions last the longest, and it would be hard to forget that flaccid Clem was the size of a pinkie finger, built like something out of Tom Thumb.

“Oh my god!” Arlene leaned back on the sofa and gasped. Olivia stared, her mouth wide-open in surprise.

“I can’t fucking see anything,” Jane whispered. Akira smiled, dismissing his competition; if it came down to the two of them, he liked his chances. Jovi’s demeanor suggested that the size of Clem’s penis was of no concern to him, and Koh was wondering if this meant Arlene’s hand was through toying with his pecker.

“Come closer,” said Jane, motioning with her finger.

Clem’s penis was so small that it was barely visible from afar, but acted as if he had no idea what the bother was all about. His cock might be tiny, but he was comfortable with it. A true chikan, Jane reasoned, wouldn’t care about the size of their dick. Perhaps if it were gargantuan they’d be fighting off chicks and not have the urge to molest them. As long as their cock got hard, and as long as it could shoot off a load or two, they’d be happy and nothing else would matter. Chikan weren’t out to sexually satisfy women, they just wanted to defile and torment them as a way to get their own rocks off.

Being close to the attractive women can be an elixir, especially when you’re naked, and Clem’s tiny specimen reacted accordingly. It was starting to look like an actual pecker. “There it is,” Olivia whooped. “Where have you been, little man? You had us worried for a moment.”

“Shit,” said Arlene, “it’s like fucking night and day.” Being close to attractive women was one thing, but having them talk about his cock as if he wasn’t even there was downright intoxicating. A warm surge of energy flowed through him. If they thought he had a boner before, take a look at it now. His penis soared to its maximum strength, and he couldn’t stop smiling. Getting an erection was, of course, a requirement of the audition, but this one was a freestanding bone that just happened to materialize without him even thinking about it.

“We should measure this sucker.”

“I’ll do it,” Jane said, taking the tape measure from Arlene. “I haven’t measured one in a while. She made sure to flash the goods when she rose, solely to gauge the impact it had on him, a reward for having endured their taunts. Jane had already forgotten the color panties she had on. She could commiserate with Leenie, who couldn’t dress properly without houseboy assistance. There was a time when Herman had picked out her underwear, even devoting a webpage to it, but now Jane sometimes stood in front of her panty drawer for five or ten minutes, pondering her many options.

Clem couldn’t believe it. A glamorous woman was about to touch his dong. He shuddered when she rubbed under his balls with the palm of her hand. “Ticklish, are you?” Jane gave him a reassuring smile. She tapped it with her finger. “This as big as it’s gonna get, you think?” He nodded. “It certainly is hard.” Jane knelt down, wondering whether he was peering down her top to check out her bra. Herman would have done it.

Jane checked her measurement. “Four point five,” she announced, making it sound like victory, “closer to five than four. Little Dickie ain’t that little.” Olivia and Arlene chanted in unison: “Little Dickie, Little Dickie…”

Jane had a good feeling about Clem. She could see him as a member of the gang, maybe the impetuous one who instigates a lot of the trouble that the men find themselves in. Clem made her believe that this chikan thing she had going on in her mind could actually happen. “Tell you what,” she said, why don’t you ladies see if Akira has the right stuff, while I find out whether Little Dickie is a keeper? The little man talks a big game, and I want to see if it’s all bullshit…it better not be, right Dickie?”

Halfway up the staircase and Clem had already placed his hand under her skirt and was rubbing and petting her panty-clad bottom. From his perspective, he was naked and she was not, so it was fair game. Had he forgotten that he was on a job interview? Jane didn’t object, but she felt the need to admonish him once his hand reached inside her panties. Now it was hand on skin, and quite a different playing field, despite the secret thrill.

“Easy, slow down.” But she did gather her hair together so that he’d have easier access to the zipper on her dress, and before she knew it she was stepping out of it, and she was down to bra and panties. Connie had thighs and Olivia had boobs, but Jane’s best look was parading around in her undies. The bra was beige and the panties were purple with white trim, which she suddenly remembered having selected that morning. Damn, the colors clashed; she knew it now, but Clem was so focused he probably wasn’t aware of it, nor was it likely that had acquired the subtle nuances of underwear selection, so her consternation was much ado about nothing.

“There were so many things I wanted to do,” she’d later say, “but he was so persuasive; I just couldn’t help myself.” The audition quite unexpectedly had turned into a molester-type situation. Clem got bolder and bolder while she became more and more suppliant. It had been a while since a man other than Dan had had their way with her, and much like her favorite stable boy, Clem was pouncing on her like a fucking animal. He was all motion, and before Jane could react to whatever it was he was doing, he had moved on to something else. Her bra had disappeared, and she didn’t even remember taking it off; maybe Clem did it, but he was now down at her feet, removing her underpants, after which he placed them over his head and wore like a prize. A little dick was never going to satisfy Jane sexually, but Little Dickie satisfied her in other ways. He put so much energy into what he was doing. Her original plan was for him to demonstrate his Masturbation technique, but as a famous boxer once said: ” everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth ” , and Clem’s aggressiveness was his knockout punch. Before she knew it his body was on top of hers, his cock was inside her Vagina, and he was flailing away as if his life depended on it.

Clem only knew two speeds, which were fast and faster; a pedal-to-the-metal approach that resonated with the jaded director. He was afraid of her, he wasn’t in awe of her, and he didn’t defer to her; she was there for his gratification. It had been a while since she had been treated like a piece of Ass. After years of treating men like they were meat, she found it refreshing to have the tables turned.

There were so many things she wanted to do with him, but in the end it was he who controlled the agenda, and he did what he whatever it was that he wanted to do, which was intercourse. Jane was now certain that the chikan fantasy percolating in her mind was really going to happen. Clem had proved himself worthy of being a gang member by his sheer forcefulness and, ultimately, wasn’t that what the interview was all about? Was he a brilliant genius for executing his plan to perfection, or just a Horny bugger who assumed the situation allowed for him to take liberties? Jane admired his attitude, and in an odd way it was she who owed him – undergoing the molester experience could only improve the scriptwriting. She’d have a lot of fun working small penises into the mix. Donkey Productions was known for using well-endowed men, so why not change things up? Little Dickie made the cut. He talked a big game, but he walked a big game too, which meant that Jane had another Boner Boy.

No sooner had he his first Orgasm, splashing his sperm on her belly, then he reinserted his penis and started the process all over again. Was his dick even inside her? She couldn’t feel it. Was it hard? Jane wasn’t sure, but he was so possessed with lust that she assumed it was; maybe she was suffering from ‘little dick syndrome’ a malady she just invented to account for the situation she found herself in.

“Do you want me to suck it?” She wanted to please him, even though it should have been the other way around. Clem’s answer was to flip her on her stomach and take her from behind. Jane knew the drill, and she lifted her Ass up to better accommodate him. It was nice not to have to take the lead, she thought, let Dickie do all the thinking. She was liking him more and more. All of a sudden something resonated inside her and she grunted – damn, from this position she could feel him. He pumped so fast, so hard, that it began to have an impact. She now knew why the Soapland worker recommended him – Little Dickie was a player. Despite his inexperience, despite having a bone in miniature, Jane was getting aroused. She moaned in pleasure.

“Uh uh…I’m coming”, Dickie gasped.

“Wait, in my face.” Dickie pulled put, Jane quickly turned over, and he tried to make it to the promised-land, but began spilling before he got there. Her breasts got creamed, as did her neck, but the spurting turned into a dribble by the time it reached her mouth. I’ll show this fucker, she thought, treat him to a Blowjob, but Little Dickie was really little now, having cum twice, and Jane knew a losing battle when she saw it. A stud like Dan would now be engaged in a little cunt licking or breast fondling; perhaps clit rubbing, or maybe even playing with himself, waiting for his weapon to reload, but Dickie was still straddling her and smiling, his shrunken member glistening with fluid, and he smiled like a contended idiot; the same dopey, idiot grin Dan used to wear after debasing ‘the best fuck he ever had’. But what the hell just happened here? How the hell did any man, especially one with a tiny dick, take her the way they had, with her a willing accomplice?

Little Dickie may have had no game, but he had a smile that could melt the hardest of hearts. The smile was now asking for a referendum on his performance. A gentle kiss on the tip of his pecker ought to be sufficient to tell him what she thought.

Little Dickie might have been borne out of mockery, but through the sheer force of his personality it become a term of endearment. Better to be called that than not called at all, and how fortuitous for him that a size-queen, Porn Empress was willing to shift gears. To answer her question, yes, he did want to have a steady role on her Porn show. It would be a game-changing, life altering event. But it would not be all fun and games; a lot of preparation would be required, and by preparation, Jane meant training.

****

“What do you think,” Jane asked? The sun was shining, a pleasant breeze was blowing, and her backyard in stylish Pacific Palisades was the time and place. Two ladies sat in Director Chairs, all legs and stilettos. They were talking about Clem, who was making his video debut; a fifteen minute loop for the website. Olivia was taking charge of the video-taping and production, a first for her.

Jenn had honey-blonde hair that was long and straight, and like so many women in her field, she favored skintight, clingy dresses that barely made it over her butt. But that wasn’t the reason she was there. Jane wanted the advice of a professional dominatrix, and Jenn was her go-to person. Should she bring along Marty? He was itching to get in front of the Donkey camera again, which Jane worked into a threesome for Little Dickie to begin his long journey to Porn stardom. Jenn claimed to be half-Korean and half-Mexican, but Jane thought she looked Puerto Rican, albeit a very exotic-looking, sexy, and refined one. But her soft and gentle appearance belied her bullying that transpired behind closed doors. Jenn liked to be in control and treat men like shit, and how fortuitous for her that a lot of elderly, wealthy men were willing to pay dearly for the privilege of being treated like shit. Regardless, is was a true Donkey Love story when she met Marty Montana on a Donkey video shoot. Who knew that a muscle-bound egomaniac’s Fetish was to be led around on a leash, and who could have imagined that a woman who cracked the whip also liked having it stuffed into her Vagina? Stereotypes perhaps, but it paints an accurate picture.

“He’s perfect,” Jenn replied, in answer to Jane’s question, and by perfect she meant that Marty was stoked. With hungry eyes he was standing over the tiny-dicked lad who lay on an air mattress by the swimming pool. Jane’s assistant, Jinmin, sat on Clem’s face. Pussy pleasing was not his specialty, and even though Koh loaned him his instructional textbook, it just didn’t interest him. But Clem’s tiny knob had semi-stiffened to half-mast, tilting to the side, and it looked eminently suck-worthy. Marty envisioned being down on all fours, grimacing with shame and pleasure as the weaselly little runt poked him in the rear. But that was a fantasy for the future. Right now, he had been instructed to beat his meat and have his semen rain down on to the prone Clem. “He’ll be putty on my hands tonight,” Jenn reckoned. “Once Marty gets a sniff of new meat…”

“My god, your toes,” exclaimed Jane, changing the subject, “where did you get them done?”

“Glad you noticed. I go to an Asian place on Fourteenth Street.” She sighed. “You wouldn’t believe how many fucking men like to suck on my toes.”