ENTRANCES . . .

 

 

 

I've watched a Show being Filmed before . . . but I've never been in front of the cameras like we're about to be. Open, real, honest, with nothing hidden. With so many Reality Shows out there . . . I guess the odds of me being on one weren't too crazy.

 

The line of Guys, or Men, depending upon what you want to call them, seem to be a very wide collection. Guess if you were going to have twelve Guys on a Show fighting over a Girl, this would be the variety you'd want.

 

Thinking of every Boy Band Ever, there's always a variety to appeal to the vast array of viewers. It's just Human Nature to want such a thing. None of us have been given too many details. I'd like to think this would be just like every other show.

 

Except the numbered collars already have me questioning that already. All black leather and locked on each of us. Not sure of his name, but the would be number 11 refused when they were about to add the lock.

 

Guess it's nice to know you can always just say "No" if you feel things aren't within your comfort zone. He did earn first physical contact as those redheaded, sexy as ever, Twins walked him away. Bet he's getting lucky with them right now.

 

"Number 3! Get moving!" The Clipboard Girl had already waved 1 & 2 onto the Set and I was holding up the line. "Sorry!" With a bit of an uncalled for snide look, she responded with, "Better be."

 

I along with Numbers 4 thru 12, of course, minus 11, join 1 and 2 who were already on the Set. It feels odd referring to everyone by number, but without knowing anyone's actual names, it does kinda make it easier . . . especially with the numbers right on the fronts of everyone's collars.

 

 

Entering the Set or the Stage . . . not sure which it is, the lights are pretty bright. Looking down, I see pretty large circles on the floor. Each with a number in the middle.

 

Didn't need any explanation or guidance as I quickly made my way to circle number 3. Seems everyone else didn't fully grasp the simplicity of this concept.

 

{Smack!} Clipboard Girl smacked Number 12 really hard on the ass with her Tool of the Trade . . . her clipboard! Number 12, who was standing in circle number 11, was raising his hand in anger! "You Fucking Bitch!"

 

A very powerful voice said, "Girls!" The redheaded Twins moved in quickly from behind the camera area. This time I was allowed the visual pleasure of their white spandex covered bodies as they entered the spotlights! "Wow" Leaked out, but quietly.

 

Number 12 was about to get violent with Clipboard Girl! I wasn't sure the Twins, as much as they had their Cross-Fit bodies, could stop him! That was until the surprise of the day ran out from backstage . . .

 

Quadruplets? No f'n way! Also with equally as intense of red hair, tight white spandex bodysuits, and just as extremely fit bodies as the first pair! "Wow" Ok, that one wasn't as quiet. I need to be more careful. I need to stay respectful of their beauty.

 

Still, with the Quad fast approaching and obviously powerful enough to take Number 12 down. I didn't see them reaching him quick enough! Turns out, Clipboard Girls foot ended the standoff as it was buried deep into 12's balls!

 

The tall and scary tower that was Number 12, opened his mouth to scream, but not a sound emerged. As both hands tried to find his balls, he slowly tipped to the side.

 

"Timber!" was perfectly timed by Number 4, seconds before he started to fall. Almost as if it was slow motion, the tower of a man, eyes wide open, pain crossing his face. Then it sped back up and 12 hit the wooden floor of the Set fast and hard!

 

"Number 4!" Sounds the powerful voice. "That was a good one. But next time . . . you don't speak without permission. You're all still learning . . . so I'll allow it this time."

 

In any other place, working at a Restaurant, a Meeting for some Big Business, or even out in public, her words would have just sounded rude. Here, it's different.

 

Here . . . it feels right. She's in-charge of everyone working to Produce this Show as much as she's in-charge of all of us. After all, we are just numbers for her to command.

 

Honestly, not sure how the rest of the Guys feel, but I'm ready to do anything and everything they ask or tell me to do. I want to be the last one standing . . . whatever that even means . . .