(This is the fourth and final part of my behind-the-scenes report on
Mood Pictures. The others were
The Hungarian Hostel,
Hostel II: The Revelations of Guard #3 and
Hostel III: Preparing for the Mood.)
(Download the HQ version of the "Inmates - Part 2" trailer
here)
have released the second part of "Inmates", and this time, you can really see me in action. Not only does the movie contain my only spoken line (a cordial "Fuck you!" after I get splashed by a prisoner), it also shows 155 strokes of the cane, 100 of which I administered. Plus, there is a hard strapping scene to round out the proceedings. I just watched the whole thing for the first time and I am reasonably content. It's a nice "caged women" flick with lots of CP action and a dark, gritty, pleasantly claustrophobic look. While Mood aren't interested in writing stories, the feel and atmosphere they create is often quite fabulous, in a "torture porn" sort of way. I think my performance as a top was okay, too.
It's exciting to finally see the finished product after all the prehistory. The caning practice at home, the travelling to Budapest, the shoot and the anecdotes behind the scenes, the blog entries. To at last watch oneself on film and find out quite how cringe-inducing it is! In this case, my self-assessment is less destructive than usual. Obviously, there are some things I'm unhappy with, but by and large, I'd rate it as a respectable professional debut - neither
Pavel Stastny material nor outright bad. Moreover, I made it in the right kind of video, with the right people, at the right time. It was great to work with the mysterious Hungarian sociopaths, who share my taste in
proper sadism, and to be the first to write a report about them. The story surrounding the film is what made the experience special for me.
Appropriately, I saved the best part of my account for last - the spanking scenes were not only the obvious highlight of the shoot, they were also at the very end chronologically. It's interesting to know that most of the thrashings you see in Mood's videos, like a typical secret police interrogation, happen very late at night. "Inmates" was a big production and took even longer than usual - when everything else was done, it was past midnight and we still had five canings and two strappings ahead of us. Clearly, we wouldn't be finished until early morning. I asked Lady Jessica if the models were okay with staying that long? She nodded benignly: "Sure they stay! They want money very badly."
A common question on spanking forums is how the girls feel during a super-severe Eastern European shoot like this. Their mindset is a source of considerable speculation, especially since most of them are vanillas. As often, the reality is less dramatic than the rumours. Yes, there is visible nervousness and apprehension, but the spankees aren't out of their minds with fear - if they were, they wouldn't be doing this. They have all made their decision to sign up for a CP film some time beforehand, and when the day comes, the dominant vibe is a quiet resolve to go through with it. Actually, I believe that some of them are probably less scared than a kinky person might be in the same situation - the shoot is just a job for them, so they don't think about it as much and they don't build it up as this big life-altering epiphany. It's simply something they have to do to go on holiday in the Mediterranean.
A few of the girls were reserved and kept more to themselves, like Mood starlet
Victoria Young, who had done her back whipping earlier because she had to leave. The majority appeared fairly cheerful, though, smiling and chatting a lot. They were horsing around between takes, especially during the scene where a new inmate was taken to her cell and the others had to tease her ("Hello baby!"). I got the impression that some of them quite enjoyed the adventure of being on the set and making a movie, even though they weren't into the spankings at all. Perhaps their attitude is best described as: "If I'm going to do this, I might as well try to have fun along the way..."
Gallows humour is one good way of keeping your mind off the inevitable terrifying finale, the part that definitely isn't fun. As the punishment scenes approached, I could feel everyone tensing up, including the crew and the other tops. The air, already hot and dry from the lighting equipment, was thick with anticipation. I had a minor attack of stage fright myself, but it turned to pleasant restlessness while I watched Lady Jessica and the two novice dommes dish out the first caning. The victim, a cute redhead, was tied up in the diaper position and apparently so amused by it that she broke into giggles during the preparations. Then she screamed the roof down for five minutes, and when it was all over, she was giggling again after a brief recovery period - tough girl, good for her!
The Hungarian for "It hurts!" is "Fáj!", pronounced "faay". You hear it a lot in Mood films. In the early days, the models could use a safeword to call for an interruption: "nagyon fáj", "it hurts so much". But Pedro felt that "they used the safeword too often." So nowadays, Mood just try to record the beatings in one go and without coded signals. The scene is interrupted only if a girl screams something obviously out of character (“Stop the camera!”), or if Mood themselves decide that she needs a break.
With a thrashing this severe, going through it in one fell swoop is usually easier on the spankee than pausing and restarting constantly. The models know that they are in safe hands. The medical nurse and assistant director Max Lomp, who is himself an experienced player, keep a very close eye on things. If either of them feels that a girl is well and truly at the end of her tether, they step in. In practice, there is an average one or two breaks per thrashing, less for the experienced victims, more for the newbies.
Victoria Young and the redhead had both survived their ordeals without too much fuss. The third spankee was a veteran who had done several movies already, Rita Goord - and I would be caning her. Originally, I had chosen another girl named Myriam, who played the new inmate at the prison. But after Maximilian's instruction of the tops in the afternoon, rumours spread about my vicious strokes and Myriam said "no thanks". Pedro grinned at me: "Everybody is afraid of you!" Eventually, brave Rita volunteered to face the Horrible Hun. She had been the "dummy target girl", so it probably served her right, for shooting her mouth off...
Like her predecessor, Miss Goord was tied to the wooden whipping bench, but in the more classical position I preferred, on all fours. She is a tiny girl, barely over five feet with a small frame and ass - great, I thought, my first professional scene as a top, and here I am doing advanced target practice! At half past twelve in the night, in front of three cameras and a room full of people. I told myself that I had trained hard enough and that I would blow my audience away no matter what the conditions. The nurse applied a thick transparent cream to Rita's bottom, the usual Mood procedure - you can see it glister slightly on video. Obviously, it doesn't reduce the impact or the pain in any way, but it softens the skin and prevents it from breaking too much. In the meantime, I asked one of the crew to move a lighting umbrella back somewhat so I would have more space for my arm.
Pablo signalled the start of the action from his director's chair. I began with a couple of medium strokes, mostly with the flick of the wrist, to find my aim. I placed them in the lower area of the buttocks, not upwards near the tailbone. The aim was okay (in the back of my mind, I registered Rita moaning and counting aloud in Hungarian). After five or six, I gradually used my arm and shoulder more - a little earlier than I had planned, but I quickly felt comfortable (Rita is getting more vocal).
One goal I had privately set myself before going to Budapest was that I would put one stroke - a proper stroke! - right beneath the girl's tailbone. You need confidence for that, and nothing is more pleasing than a bottom fully covered with marks. Some ten swishes had passed when I tried it. It went high, but not too high - just where I wanted it. No limits to what one can do with relentless exercise and a bit of luck! Seeing that stripe exactly on target was the final trigger I needed. I just went for it from there - full arm strokes with no restraint and no reserve of strength unused, literally as hard as I could hit (Rita's screams are echoing off the walls).
I can't actually count in Hungarian, but I understand the numbers when I hear them. I was half listening to Rita, half keeping track of them myself. Somewhere in the high twenties, I fired off a particularly insane swing (blood-curdling wail!), then slowed down a little as by my original plan. I interjected some lighter, more accurate strokes to fill out the remaining gaps. Rita's ass was glowing with dark, purple welts by now, but there was one virginal spot in the upper third that annoyed me. After a few attempts, I nailed it. Back to the full arm, the finishing stretch, no holding back now (Rita is getting hoarse from hollering and sobbing uncontrollably). I noticed that we were in the forties and started paying closer attention to the numbers. Rita shrieked "Öööt-veeeeen!" at the top of her lungs. Fifty! There. It was over.
It all sounds awfully clinical, but these were my exact thoughts at the time. I wasn't enjoying myself one bit, and I wasn't supposed to - I was there to do a job for Mood Pictures. There would be plenty of sadistic fun watching the video afterwards! But I didn't allow myself any indulgence while we were filming it. I was much too focused to feel anything at all - it was like doing an important exam, where you only realise how good or bad you've probably been doing once you walk out of there and come back to your senses.
After half a dozen cane strokes, I went into a trance. I forgot the cameras, the people, the room around me. My universe consisted of me, Rita, my aim, the last stroke and the next. Even her screams were mere indicators of how hard I was hitting, disembodied, not fully there. Max and the nurse were vaguely present in my consciousness as well, in case they gave me a signal. But they never did - of all the victims, Rita was the only one to make it through in one single take. She was a real trooper.
There was a round of applause. Max Lomp walked over to me, gave me a firm handshake and said "Congratulations!" in English. I mumbled: "Thank you..." My mind was still somewhere else (wait a minute, I think the scene is over). The room came alive again, the crew finishing everything up. I had to pose for the stills photographer. With that done, I took a good long look at Rita's bottom for the first time. Welts all over, some of them bleeding, some perhaps wrapped a bit too far around the right cheek - but no actual miss-hits, none at all. I looked at the cane and there was quite a bit of blood on it, too. It was an immensely satisfying sight. I kept the implement as a souvenir and retired it. The dried splatter is now dark brown on the lighter brown wood.
While the nurse untied Rita, I stood on the other side of the whipping bench and gently touched my victim's left shoulder to get her attention, see if she is okay. Rita turned her head to me. Her eyes and face were soaking wet with tears. She looked up, saw that it was me - and broke into a big happy smile. Visibly dazed, but beaming with relief and a kind of strange primordial gratitude. So pure, overwhelming, contagious. I had a vision of David Cronenberg's
Crash. It is precisely what Mood Pictures girls look like after the CP - people who have just been in a major car accident and slowly realise that they are still alive... And that all limbs are working!
I'm convinced that we were thinking the exact same thing: "Wow, it's really over, isn't it?" Each of us had been in a trance, Rita lost in the pain, I in my total concentration. Reemerging, we met at this crossroad and shared a brief, but powerful moment of communion. Vanilla girl, kinky top, it didn't matter - for an instant, our radically different motives for being here were drowned out by a universal feeling of numbness and gladness. I feasted upon the unexpected connection for as long as it held. Then, finally untied, Rita got a bathrobe and a pair of warm slippers like the others before her. Taking her by the hand, the nurse lead her to the medical room for aftercare. We chatted later and she seemed truly fine. I liked Rita, she was one of the more sociable models. I was happy that she had been my first Mood victim.
I sat down again to watch Myriam get thrashed by the three dommes. Lady Jessica went especially hard on her - I think she was trying to make a statement after seeing me. The caning was just as severe, but far less accurate, leaving Myriam with bleeding welts all over her ass and the back of her legs. I felt sorry for her, but couldn't suppress a bit of spitefulness - see, this is what she gets for not wanting to work with me. Silly girl! The same thought seemed to have occurred to Pedro, who nudged me afterwards: "Not a good choice, huh?”
Another caning in the diaper position was supposed to come next, but the girl quit after only five (relatively tame) strokes. She was so obviously out of her depth that they didn't even try to persuade her to continue. The aborted thrashing still ended up in the second video, though, with a fadeout. I had been sitting next to Pablo. He looked glum, so I threw in a bit of sarcasm to cheer him up: "Well, that was a fizzle! You know what a 'fizzle' is?" He didn't, so I explained that it's a slang term for a nuclear bomb which fails to meet its expected yield.
The subsequent pair of strapping scenes was more successful - while both girls needed a couple of breaks, they made it through to the end. I was offered to take part, but declined and left the task to the dommes again. I had never used a prison strap before and, even though it's a fairly simple instrument, I felt that a movie shoot was the wrong environment for such experiments. I preferred to do another caning. After my earlier performance, Pedro and Pablo were more than happy to hand me a second victim, a tall dark-haired girl going by the name Tammy Lange. She played the inmate who attacked me, so it was fitting that I would punish her myself.
It was the eighth CP scene overall and the last one of the shoot. I looked at my watch while they were tying Tammy to the bench - half past three. I had been up for roughly nineteen hours. Even the excitement of making a film with Mood wasn't quite enough to keep the tiredness at bay anymore. I psyched myself up for one final, all-out effort. Once the cameras were recording, I got the expected rush of adrenalin.
Tammy was a new girl and didn't take the caning nearly as well as Rita. She held up during the first couple of strokes, but when I started using my full arm, her composure quickly crumbled amidst cries of "Elég! Elég!" ("Enough! Enough!"). Before we got to twenty, Tammy "safeworded" for the first time, launching into a frantic conversation with Pablo. They calmed her down and she decided to continue after a minute. A handful of swishes later, she needed another break. Pedro asked me if I could aim for the back of her legs instead of her ass where she already had marks - it was Tammy's own request. I dislike cane stripes on the legs and knew that it wouldn't actually hurt any less, but I agreed: "Whatever makes her happy."
Faring a bit better now and gritting her teeth, Tammy seemed determined to reach the end. I caned her legs, then her bottom again, gradually increasing the force of the strokes. By number forty-something, she was at her limit again, banging her hands on the wooden bench and screaming: "
Stop, stop, stop...!" Max Lomp signalled to me that I should go on, and I did. We were nearly at the finish line - by this point, simply getting it over with was easier on the girl than another interruption. I gave her the last half dozen quite hard, for the memories.
It was difficult to find a rhythm between the breaks, and with the poor girl constantly on the verge of quitting, I had gone softer on her compared to Rita. Pedro teased me afterwards for being "a shy guy" and I teased him back for "bad casting" – but seriously, it was better to have a slightly less severe scene than none at all. Tammy survived it well, too. When the still photographs were done, I gave her a gentle pat on the back. She nodded her head and smiled, indicating that she was okay. Watching her caning on video today, I consider it the more enjoyable of the two in terms of reactions, while Rita's is better technically.
And that was it - the end of the "Inmates" shoot. It took another hour to pack everything up. I got out of the guard uniform and collected my things, including the two "trophy" canes. The models, also back in their street clothes, looked tired but happy. The reddish blonde girl who had done one of the strapping scenes went to lie on an X-shaped cross in the corner of the studio, just for fun. I walked over and jokingly asked her if she wanted an encore. She grinned cheerfully, pointed at the cross and remarked in accent-free German: "Das ist viel gemütlicher!" ("This one's much more comfy!")
After saying goodbye and thank you, everybody left for home. In the car, Pedro looked quietly content with the work done, and so was I: "Well, that was a
nice day..." We shook hands and I got out at the hotel. Staggering into my room at precisely 5 AM, I was struck by the deafening silence. It felt strange to be suddenly by myself again, without cameras or other observers. I blankly stared at my reflection in the big wardrobe mirror for a minute, letting the events of the past 24 hours sink in. Amazingly, they were real and no longer just a dream. My first spanking movie! Wow. Allowing myself a moment of silly joy, I punched the air with both fists.
The constant
Hostel comparisons were getting tedious, but there was one more scene that came to my mind. I couldn't help it. It was the one where Paxton arrives at the torture factory, thinking it's an art gallery, and meets a Japanese businessman in the parking lot (a cameo by film director Takashi Miike). Paxton asks: "How is it in there?" The man replies: "Be careful. You could spend... all your money... in there!"
Of course, the analogy wasn't quite valid. I was not a paying torture club customer. My predicament was far worse - I got to thrash the girls for free. And there was no denying that the addiction was already beginning to take hold. I closed my eyes and saw Rita Goord's tear-soaked face before me. The blood splatter on the cane. I knew that I was lost. Only then, too late, did I realise what topping for Mood Pictures really means. It is not just another kinky adventure. Nor is it strictly a professional job. It is, in truth, a vile, sinister, corrupting influence on one's immortal soul.
I can't wait to do it again.
("Kinky" excerpt from the "Encyclopaedia of Klingon Culture")
