BeehiveHairdresser.com

The Shoot

Yesterday evening after I got out of work I went to the Electra Elf shoot. It was a Midtown location shoot. I rang the buzzer and found it odd that there was only one buzzer at the door when there are half dozen or so floors to the building. The buzzer had a video camera, and an intercom. The intercom had a mans muffled voice and I thought they were going to buzz me in, I waiting 30 seconds for a buzz that did not take place. I ring the bell again, and said, “Sorry I couldn’t hear you before. Are you buzzing me in or coming down to let me in?” This time the voice of a young woman answered, she said, “I’ll be down to pick you up”. A minute goes by and I saw a cute young woman coming to the glass door with piercings in her lips, and in her eyebrow, and with some bright red hair. I assume that she is the receptionist of a production company. We step into a very tiny elevator that was manually operated. I enjoy riding in those kinds of elevators, you get to see the inside of the building, and get to try and stop the elevator at the right part in the floor. Lame game I know, but it’s more exciting than just hitting the number 7 button. I step out of the elevator, and the young woman tells me to make a right and go down the hall to where the shoot is. I thank her and go on down the hall.

The hall was clean, and had a bunch of doors running along it. I looked into the first open door and saw a couple of large day beds, I saw the Mens & Womens room, and a gated off door where filming was taking place. There was also a doorway with a leather curtain blocking the view of the room inside; I thought it was a way into the big room where the filming was happening. I immediately see that it is a storage area, and locker room. In between takes I moved passed the gated off door and into a room with five or so big U shaped couches. I also looked back down the hall and saw other cute young women milling about. Even though I’ve never been inside one, my first thought was that I was inside a rub and tug massage parlor. It had the look of what I imagined one to be. I saw my buddy Rusty Nail, and went over to say hello in between takes. I said, “Hey, what kind of whore house are we in right now?” His response, “Oh, it’s a dominatrix dungeon.” I smiled, knowing that it’s a Thursday night, just after 5pm, and people are going to be coming over to this place to do their thing.

The shoot went well, but I was enjoying the atmosphere more. I heard LOUD spankings numerous times and while setting up lights for a take, there was a man screaming, “It’s my birthday!” repeatedly while being spanked. There were also the DOM girls wandering around. They went into the locker room, and had to pass through the room we were shooting in a couple of times. If I were to pass these women on the street I wouldn’t dare think that they worked in a dungeon, they looked like college students, and I even met the man who carried himself to be the owner, or at least the guy in charge of the dungeon. He looked like an Uncle John from Anytown, USA. It was endearing to know that my next door neighbor could do this for a living.

At one point, a cast member was curious on the way back from the bathroom. She took a peek into the locker room, and came back confused. She saw something that looked like a finger attachment butt plug. Huh? I’ve been at least halfway around the block with sex toys, but hadn’t ever thought of this one.

At the end of the shoot I wanted to thank the people that worked there, I only took a step past the staircase and stopped. I saw three young women standing in the doorway of what I believed to be a dungeon room, saw something was taking place in that room, and thought I shouldn’t interrupt. I ran down the wooden staircase, afraid that it would fall apart from my 145lbs of bodyweight, got outside and called “I like cheese” to laugh at the evenings events.

P.S. The northwest corner of 57th and 5th smelled extra horse shitty this morning. Just think of the joys to come with a week full of 90 plus degree weather on the way.