Milking Time B3 Chapter 4 Barocca Gets Her Way
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Milking Time B3 Chapter 5 Barocca Finds A Friend free porn video
Chapter 5: Barocca's Recruiting - Barocca Finds A Friend
Later that evening in her quarters, Barocca plopped down onto her bed in disgust. It wasn't until now that Barocca realized what a daunting task she had ahead of her, in trying to contact the girl she wanted, and then recruit her. Even though Barocca now had a phone with secure access to the outside world, the type of information she needed wasn't exactly easy to come by.
Barocca hadn't kept that much of a personal phone or address book even before she came to the Island. What little that she had with her now were all hopelessly out of date.
She had thought about calling some of the magazines she had posed for over the years, in the hopes of perhaps reaching an editor or staff person who might remember her. But of the dozens of titles she'd posed for, only a smattering of them even bothered to list themselves in any type of phone directory. And those only listed an 800 number for subscriptions or adver-tising. Certainly not intimate details about the models posing in them, or the staff that worked for them. The couple of times she'd actually spoken with someone, and not a recording, she had no way of convincing them that she was who she said she was. It had been at least several years since her last pictorial. That was a lifetime in the adult magazine business.
Local phone directories that were available through the Internet searches weren't much help either. Barocca had only known the girls she worked with by their performing names, or maybe by just a real first name only. Names like 'Seka' or 'Little Oral Annie' certainly weren't going to be in the directory listings. "I know mine wouldn't be," Barocca thought to herself.
On top of that, Barocca could only assume that Jeanne was still living somewhere in the Los Angeles or Southern California area. That was where she had last known that Jeanne was living. Even if she was still there, that only narrowed things down to finding one person in well over ten million people.
Barocca even tried sorting through the endless mountain of porn on the Internet, hoping that she might find a website or a fan club devoted to who she wanted.
"Shit!" thought Barocca. "It seems like every other girl who ever worked in porn has photos posted of her here. Including half of the girls that are on the Island now. And most of them have some type of fan club or tribute page that somebody's put up."
Frustrated at the lack of progress she'd made that night, Barocca gave in for the night, and went to bed. Thinking and reminiscing about all of her modeling and video work in the past caused Barocca to dream.
Barocca's dreams that night were a disjointed mix of her modeling and video days, and were punctuated by visions of being either m*****ed and/or annoyed by Ebony and Jordan, both of whom had overgrown pricks, even by the Island's standards. As a result, Barocca was cranky and irritable when she awoke the next morning.
The troublesome dreams of Ebony and Jordan did serve a purpose to Barocca. It caused her to recall a series of videos she'd made for a company in Southern California, which were almost all catfight or wrestling style videos. Barocca hadn't particularly enjoyed making them, but they did pay well, and they had been a reliable source of income, without the fear of bouncing checks. Something she couldn't say about every company she'd worked for.
The more Barocca recalled working for that company, the more details she remembered. During dead time between filming sessions, she'd flipped through some of the company fliers and catalogs that were in the company's office. Barocca had seen girls in all stages of their careers that had worked for the company. Veterans like herself; new starlets who were just starting out; and older girls on the downside of their careers, trying to hang on for a just a little longer. Then it hit Barocca: she had seen the girl’s name on one of the older catalogs! She was positive about it. She knew her face and features well enough, that she couldn't be mistaken. And the company had used her most common name in the business, to capitalize on her appeal.
Now if only she could remember the name of that fucking company! Then it hit Barocca. She hadn't bothered to keep any sort of accurate count or history of anybody’s video and magazine appearances. But other people had.
Barocca hopped in front of her computer again, and brought up her Internet browser. She did a search for a site she had seen a link to the other day, but hadn't bothered going to, because she didn't think there would be any point to it. After a few moments of scanning the search results, Barocca found the site she was looking for: The Adult Internet Film Database.
Barocca clicked on the link, and held her breath. After searching for smut on the Internet, Barocca had become leery of the hype and promise. Too many sites and links were broken, or turned out to be nothing like what they were advertised as. A moment later, Barocca breathed a sigh of relief as the graphics for the site began to load.
"Okay. I've got one foot in the door. Now what do I do?" thought Barocca.
Fortunately, the site was user friendly, and easy to use, with a minimum of menu choices and cluttering advertising banners. "It says: type in the name of a performer, and click 'go'. Seems simple enough." Barocca typed in the word 'Jeanne', and clicked her mouse on the icon.
About several seconds passed, as the application did its work. To Barocca's surprise, over a dozen results were displayed. Girls with the same first name, and different last names, as well as girls with variations on the spelling of the first name. Fortunately, they were sorted alphabetically according to the first name, and then by the last name, so it made it fairly easy to scroll down and find the entry she thought she wanted.
Barocca highlighted Jeanne's name, and clicked 'go' again. The hourglass appeared for the next several seconds as it processed. In seconds, the screen was filled with dozens of lines of neatly arranged text that filled the window, and scrolled on past the bottom. They were sorted alphabetically by the film title, a date when available, and sometimes some comments. There was only one problem.
"Page one of five!" Barocca exclaimed to herself as she looked at the bottom of the scroll bar. "Damn! I know Jeanne told me she'd been in the business for a few years when I met her. But I had no fucking idea she'd made this many videos. I'll never sort through all of these!"
Barocca moved over to her bed and sprawled out on her back, and let her thoughts come to her. "All right. I've found a decent source of information here. I've just gotta figure out the right way to use it, is all. There's no way I know enough about Jeanne's career to know which videos are which on this site."
Barocca relaxed and meditated, and thought some more about the puzzle that was presented to her. Suddenly it hit her. "I've got it! I know a hell of a lot more about my own video career, than about somebody else's. If I can manage to find a list of my own titles, I know I can figure out which ones were the wrestling ones."
Barocca went back to the PC, and went back to the main menu of the site. In the model name field, she typed in her own name, and held her breath, and clicked 'go'. To her relief, hers was the only name that displayed in the results field; not over a dozen, as with Jeanne's name.
"I knew there was a reason I chose a unique name for this business," Barocca chuckled to herself. "And they even spelled it right. Now to see if whoever designed this site, and did the research really did their homework on me," thought Barocca. She highlighted her own name, and clicked 'go' again.
The search results were much quicker this time. "Well, that figures," thought Barocca. "I wasn't a wallflower, but I didn't jump at the opportunity to make a video every time somebody called me either."
The display indicated Barocca had made just over sixty videos. "That can't be right. I know it can't more than about two-thirds that amount. I mean I should know; I was there." Then Barocca inspected the actual titles. Although she was no marketing expert, she soon caught on to the concept of some of the titles. "Some of these must be collection or rerun tapes from their titles. And who knows how many times some of my scenes were used multiple times for these things."
Then Barocca settled down, and began slowly reading and digesting the information before her. "Ah, here we go! Some of these have got to be the ones that I made for that company. 'Black Battling Bitches'. 'Catfighting Cunts'. With names like these, it's a wonder that they sold any of them at all. Let's see now. These were made five years ago. That sounds about right. I hadn't come to the Island then." At that point, the information stopped. "Hey! Where's the name of the fucking company that made any of these things?"
To her relief, Barocca realized that she only had to click the scrollbar on the bottom right of the screen, to display the final few fields of information. "Here it is: Napali Video. I knew that name was just on the tip of my tongue! That's what I remember them calling themselves when I worked for them. Now for the next trick: to see if these guys are still in business after this many years."
Barocca then did a search for 'Napali Video' and found a short list of results. Some were for other companies selling their videos. Others were some reviews of various titles. One of the first links was for the actual company website itself. "Now we're getting somewhere," thought Barocca.
As she scanned the various menus, Barocca was intrigued to find out that the company was still in business. They were taking orders for videos that would ship in a month or so, as well as a huge list of recent and older titles for sale. "Great! Now all I've gotta do is get in touch with them."
That proved to be more difficult than Barocca thought. The company took orders via snail mail, but their address was a Post Office box in Los Angeles. They had a phone number, but it was only a recording on an 800 line, where you could order videos with a credit card.
"Shit! So close, and yet still so far," muttered Barocca. Then her eyes happened to notice a link at the bottom of the page. "E-mail us with questions about special orders and custom videos," Barocca read aloud. "That's right! I remember making one video where he wanted me and another girl to act as if we were talking to some guy, while we did it. I've got no idea if the same guy who ran the business is still running it now, but this is a way to get in touch with somebody there. But what am I gonna say to these people?"
Barocca went to lunch, and mulled the problem over in her head. By the time she returned, she had formulated a plan of action. When she was seated at her computer again, Barocca wrote an e-mail to the company.
"Hi! My name's Barocca, and I worked for you as a model, a number of years ago. (She listed several titles, and included details about the actual locations of the video shootings, as well as some of the off camera events that stood out in her mind. Something that only someone who was there when the videos themselves were made could know.) I'm still in the modeling business, although I haven't been quite as active as I once was. (She'd have to come up with some way to explain her absence. That could get sticky, but she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.) I really enjoyed working with you before, and was wondering if you had any opportunities or openings to do so again. If you think you still would be able to use me, please e-mail me back, and leave me a telephone number so I can talk to you about it in more detail. Thanks! Love, Barocca."
The next day, Barocca signed on to her computer at the end of the day, and found an e-mail waiting for her in her in-box. It was actually from someone at Napali Video after all! Barocca clicked on the message, and read the body of the text. It was indeed from the fellow who ran the company. He remembered Barocca from several years ago, and some of the personal details she had supplied, had convinced him to contact her. He was eager to talk about possible future projects with her, and even supplied his telephone number.
"It's about fucking time," thought Barocca. "Finally, someone who believes I'm who I say I am, and is actually willing to talk to me."
Barocca dialed the number, and was soon talking with him across the country in Southern California. Long before she had started in the modeling and video business, Barocca had made herself talk in a very cultured, almost exotic sounding voice, as a matter of habit. It had served her well in her video career, and most people instantly recognized her when she spoke to them, including the fellow at Napali Video now.
Barocca engaged in a lengthy conversation with the fellow. To make a long story short, Barocca was welcome with open arms, to come back to the business whenever she wanted to. However, when she had tried to drop a hint and pry any information out of him on Jeanne and other girls' whereabouts, she found that he didn't know a lot more than most people. As Barocca was getting ready to end the conversation, he did give her one more glimmer of hope.
"It's funny that you should mention Jeanne, Barocca," he said. "That's twice in one week her name's come up. One of the fellows who does my still photography for me said that he'd done a photo shoot with Jeanne just last week. He was surprised that she was still in the business too. He thought she'd packed her bags and left a long time ago."
Barocca's eyes lit up on the other end of the line. It was a good thing he couldn't see how she was squirming on her seat like a nervous schoolgirl.
"Hey, that's great!" said Barocca. "Do you think you could give me his name and number please?" Barocca wrote it down carefully, asking him to repeat it twice. She thanked him, and promised him, he'd be the first one she called whenever she was in town looking for work again.
As she read the name and address in front of her, Barocca recognized the photo-grapher's name. She'd worked with him a number of times. She couldn't hope to remember which layouts she posed in for him, but the name was definitely familiar. Barocca dialed the new number in front of her. After a couple of rings, a man's voice answered. Barocca introduced herself to him, hoping that her voice would trigger a reaction in him as well.
"Barocca? Hell yes, I remember you!" he exclaimed into the phone. In the background, Barocca could hear a woman's voice angrily asking him what the fuck was going on.
"Oh shit," Barocca blushed. "I hope I didn't get you into trouble with your wife."
"Don't give it a second thought," he replied. "I'm changing film during a photo shoot here, and one of the prima donnas here has her nose out of joint. Let me call you back in an hour when I wrap things up here, and we'll talk more."
Good to his word, the phone rang at Barocca's end, a little over an hour later.
"So where've you been keeping yourself, Barocca?" he asked. "I haven't heard from you in years."
Barocca made up a story about thinking she'd found 'Mr. Right' and had settled down for a while. Only now things had changed, and she was thinking seriously about getting back into the business again. And that she was also trying to contact a few old friends. She told him how the fellow at Napali Video had tipped her off about him photographing Jeanne recently.
"Well now. I think that we can work something out here," he replied. "But it's gonna cost you. I know you've been taking care of yourself, if you're thinking about getting back into this business. Give me an exclusive so I can do your first photo shoot on your return to the world."
"Oh I could give you an exclusive, all right," thought Barocca. "Pictures and videos that nobody would believe were real in fact. Me and dozens of other girls." Barocca knew that a limited amount of what they produced on the Island was big boob and girl-girl stuff that could be marketed almost anywhere, without getting into the shemale angle. There were plenty of photo sets and videos that were only sold to private collectors.
"How about this idea?" proposed Barocca. "Not only can I get you some exclusive photos of myself. I can also get my hands on plenty of material of Ebony also. Guaranteed that none of these have been published anywhere before. I'll e-mail you some ZIP files of them, to give you a sample of them. Then you give me a way to get in touch with Jeanne. Once I actually contact Jeanne, and know you're on the level, I'll Fed-Ex out the original prints and negatives to you."
Barocca knew that he could make a lucrative fee just selling the copies of the prints to his own special clients, as well as on the Internet. With the negatives, he'd make a major profit selling them to the magazines. All for enough information that wouldn't even fill up an index card.
"You got a deal girlfriend!" he exclaimed. "You send me some of the samples tonight, and I'll have the nitty gritty on Jeanne back to you before you're in bed tonight."
"Sounds great," replied Barocca. "Look for something in your in-box from me in a little while."
Barocca sent him several ZIP files with over sixty explicit, topless shots of herself and Ebony. Nothing that showed what they were like between the legs nowadays, but still nice stuff.
"If he truly comes through with the info on Jeanne, I may actually send out the other stuff," thought Barocca.
Good to his word, less than half an hour after she had sent the ZIP's, Barocca received an e-mail in response. Filled with anticipation, Barocca opened the document. It was short and to the point. A name, address, and telephone number; even Jeanne's e-mail address.
"If nothing else, he's certainly thorough," thought Jeanne. "This had better be the real thing on Jeanne, or I'm gonna be pissed." Barocca looked at the information before her, and then at the clock. It was only about seven o'clock in the evening in California. Now was as good a time as any to take the final step.
Barocca took a deep breath, and forced herself to remain calm. If this actually turned out to be Jeanne's real telephone number, and Barocca could contact her, the real job had only just begun. She would still have to find a way to convince Jeanne to come to the Island, and hope she would want to become a shemale, like herself and the other girls.
The phone number that the photographer listed had an 818 area code. "That means Jeanne's still living somewhere in LA or one of the suburbs down there," thought Barocca.
One encouraging sign was that two people on the phone had mentioned that Jeanne was still working in the business, as recently as a week ago. That meant that Jeanne had to be taking decent care of herself, to still look good enough to be photographed for magazines.
Barocca hoped that Jeanne hadn't fallen into the tragic cycle of doing the modeling work, and then throwing all her money into booze or d**gs, as a number of other girls had done towards the end of their careers. Barocca would have to do her best job of salesmanship in getting Jeanne to see things her way, and eventually come to the Island.
"Well, there's only one way to find out," Barocca thought to herself, as she punched Jeanne's number into the telephone. After several rings, a woman's voice answered the phone.
"Hi, is this Jeanne?" asked Barocca.
"Yes, this is Jeanne," she replied. "Who's this?"
"Hey, this is a voice from your past," said Barocca. "Does the name 'Barocca' ring any bells to you?" Barocca was counting again on her unique voice striking a chord with Jeanne.
There were a few seconds of awkward silence, and then a light seemed to flash in Jeanne's head at her end of the line. "Oh, yeah! I remember you now. We both worked for a little while for that one company who made all the wrestling and catfight videos. What the heck was their name again?"
"You mean Napali Video," said Barocca. "The guy who runs it put me in touch with the photographer who works for him, and he gave me your number."
"Yeah, that's right," said Jeanne. "We were never in the same films, but we bumped into each other in the office and on the way to locations a few times. I remember you now. How've you been, girl?"
"Well, I stayed in the business myself for a couple more years after that," said Barocca. "Then I kind of dropped out of it. I found other things I wanted to do."
"Well, like you heard, I'm still doing the nasty for the films and magazines myself," said Jeanne. "I guess I've been in it so long now, that it's in my blood," she chuckled.
Barocca breathed a small sigh of relief at her end of the line. If Jeanne was still going strong after this many years in the business, there was a good chance that just might be able to persuade her to see things her way, and convince her to come to the Island.
"So what's up, Barocca?" asked Jeanne. "Is this just a social call, or did you have something else you wanted to talk about?"
"All right, I'll cut to the chase," admitted Barocca. "Please bear with me, if I'm a little long-winded here, but I'll try to make things brief. I remember a series of videos you made back in the 80's called 'Bi and Beyond'."
"Oh yeah, those things," said Jeanne. "You wouldn't believe some of the letters I got, after those came out. I had no idea that that people would actually like those, and want more."
So far, Jeanne didn't sound like she felt fed up or disgusted when talking about those older videos.
"Well, I wasn't one of the ones who wrote you any fan letters," said Barocca. "But a friend of mine showed them to me a few years later. I hope you won't think that this is really weird or kinky Jeanne, but I thought you were incredibly sexy in those."
"Why thanks, Barocca," said Jeanne. "But I mean, everybody knows those were all faked scenes. They glued a dildo to me, and painted it to match my skin. That's all they did."
"That's true," said Barocca. "But you looked like you really got into your scenes, anyway. And that really got me off watching you."
"Yeah, it was kind of nice 'being in charge' in a scene like that for a change," laughed Jeanne. "I had a lot of fun making those. It's too bad they don't have a way so you could do that in real life."
Barocca couldn't believe her ears. Hearing Jeanne admit that she liked her shemale strap-on scenes was too good to be true. She had to proceed very cautiously now, but it was apparent that Jeanne might just be interested in what she had to say next.
"Well, you may think this will sound really odd," said Barocca, "but I think I know a way that you could actually do that in real life."
"Get out of here!" laughed Jeanne. "I'm no scientist, but I know the body just doesn't work that way, girl."
"That's what most people, think," said Barocca. "Like I said, I know a place that could actually make that happen, if you think you want to give it a chance."
"I think you must've been standing too close to those photographer's flash bulbs when they went off," said Jeanne with a laugh. "You'd still have to find a way to convince me that something like this was even possible in the first place."
"Then let me show you some proof, Jeanne," said Barocca. "The one photographer gave me your e-mail address. So you've got a computer, right? Let me send you some ZIP files of photos of girls where I'm at that have gotten the 'treatment'. Take a look at those, and then I'll call you back tomorrow night."
"Okay, Barocca. I'll give you a chance to show me what you've got," said Jeanne. "Send me some of your best stuff, and if I'm convinced, I'll talk more to you tomorrow."
Barocca put together an assortment of photos of girls who were about halfway along in their cock development on the Island. Most of these featured girls whose cocks were anywhere from ten to f******n inches long. She hoped that these would be enough to convince Jeanne to take her seriously.
Barocca avoided sending Jeanne anything on herself, or Ebony, or any of the senior amazons. Better to see if she could convince Jeanne with the more moderate and somewhat realistic material first. If she could sell Jeanne on that, she'd have her just where she wanted her, once she got a good look at herself or Ebony.
The next night at a little past ten o'clock, Barocca dialed Jeanne's phone number in her quarters again. Jeanne promptly answered on the other end.
"Well, what did you think?" asked Barocca anxiously.
"Either one of two things has happened," said Jeanne. "First, either you've become some type of animator or graphic artist with way too much fucking time on her hands. The other thing is that you just might actually be telling the truth."
"I stared at some of those pictures until my eyes hurt," continued Jeanne. "And if they're fakes, they're better than anything I've seen anyone post on the Internet, or printed in the 'TV' magazines. Because you sent me so many of these, part of me is almost ready to believe you. So give with all the dirt girlfriend, and don't spare any of the juicy details."
"All right, Jeanne," said Barocca. "Get comfy, because this is gonna take a while. Here's what really happened to me in the few years since we last bumped into each other at the video company."
Over the course of the next few nights, Barocca told Jeanne all the intricate details of the Island. The only things she left out were the phenomenal sizes that the cocks of the senior amazons could reach, and the milking ritual. She didn't want to lay things on too thick, too soon to Jeanne. Barocca dropped minor hints on how she felt about Jordan, and the way that things were on the Island. By the time she was finished Jeanne knew more about things on the Island than a lot of the just recently arrived girls.
At the end of the third night of marathon phone conversations, Barocca summed up her sales pitch to Jeanne. "So that's how it'll work, Jeanne. You get an all expenses paid trip to the beautiful Bahamas. And if you like what you see, you can join the family, and become one of the girls here. What do you think?"
"Well, even if everything you've told me turns out to be bogus," said Jeanne, "I could still sure use a vacation, and I've never been to the Bahamas before. And if these girls are all that they're cracked up to be, and I can become one of them too, then I may just not want to leave."
"All right! That's the spirit, girl," said Barocca. "Just come here, and check things out, and then make a decision. That's all I ask."
"So how am I gonna get there, anyway?" asked Jeanne. "I'm not exactly rolling in dough right now."
"Just let me take care of that," said Barocca. "In a couple of days I'll send some money to your Paypal account. Then all you’ll have to do is book a flight out of LA Airport. Once I get it all squared away, I'll call you with the final details. Just have your bags packed, and be ready to leave in a few days."
Barocca had a plan formulated on how she thought she could get Jeanne to the Island, without raising too much suspicion. It would mean doing some personal photos, intimate phone calls and private webcam shows for friends and contacts she still had from the outside world, but she was certain she could pull it off. That much activity might eat up a lot of bandwidth and slow things down on the small network that was set up on the Island, but she was past the point of no return by now. And then once Jeanne was actually here, Barocca would take her under her wing, and work her magic on her.
"And then," thought Barocca, "we'll really see some changes around here."
Later that evening in her quarters, Barocca plopped down onto her bed in disgust. It wasn't until now that Barocca realized what a daunting task she had ahead of her, in trying to contact the girl she wanted, and then recruit her. Even though Barocca now had a phone with secure access to the outside world, the type of information she needed wasn't exactly easy to come by.
Barocca hadn't kept that much of a personal phone or address book even before she came to the Island. What little that she had with her now were all hopelessly out of date.
She had thought about calling some of the magazines she had posed for over the years, in the hopes of perhaps reaching an editor or staff person who might remember her. But of the dozens of titles she'd posed for, only a smattering of them even bothered to list themselves in any type of phone directory. And those only listed an 800 number for subscriptions or adver-tising. Certainly not intimate details about the models posing in them, or the staff that worked for them. The couple of times she'd actually spoken with someone, and not a recording, she had no way of convincing them that she was who she said she was. It had been at least several years since her last pictorial. That was a lifetime in the adult magazine business.
Local phone directories that were available through the Internet searches weren't much help either. Barocca had only known the girls she worked with by their performing names, or maybe by just a real first name only. Names like 'Seka' or 'Little Oral Annie' certainly weren't going to be in the directory listings. "I know mine wouldn't be," Barocca thought to herself.
On top of that, Barocca could only assume that Jeanne was still living somewhere in the Los Angeles or Southern California area. That was where she had last known that Jeanne was living. Even if she was still there, that only narrowed things down to finding one person in well over ten million people.
Barocca even tried sorting through the endless mountain of porn on the Internet, hoping that she might find a website or a fan club devoted to who she wanted.
"Shit!" thought Barocca. "It seems like every other girl who ever worked in porn has photos posted of her here. Including half of the girls that are on the Island now. And most of them have some type of fan club or tribute page that somebody's put up."
Frustrated at the lack of progress she'd made that night, Barocca gave in for the night, and went to bed. Thinking and reminiscing about all of her modeling and video work in the past caused Barocca to dream.
Barocca's dreams that night were a disjointed mix of her modeling and video days, and were punctuated by visions of being either m*****ed and/or annoyed by Ebony and Jordan, both of whom had overgrown pricks, even by the Island's standards. As a result, Barocca was cranky and irritable when she awoke the next morning.
The troublesome dreams of Ebony and Jordan did serve a purpose to Barocca. It caused her to recall a series of videos she'd made for a company in Southern California, which were almost all catfight or wrestling style videos. Barocca hadn't particularly enjoyed making them, but they did pay well, and they had been a reliable source of income, without the fear of bouncing checks. Something she couldn't say about every company she'd worked for.
The more Barocca recalled working for that company, the more details she remembered. During dead time between filming sessions, she'd flipped through some of the company fliers and catalogs that were in the company's office. Barocca had seen girls in all stages of their careers that had worked for the company. Veterans like herself; new starlets who were just starting out; and older girls on the downside of their careers, trying to hang on for a just a little longer. Then it hit Barocca: she had seen the girl’s name on one of the older catalogs! She was positive about it. She knew her face and features well enough, that she couldn't be mistaken. And the company had used her most common name in the business, to capitalize on her appeal.
Now if only she could remember the name of that fucking company! Then it hit Barocca. She hadn't bothered to keep any sort of accurate count or history of anybody’s video and magazine appearances. But other people had.
Barocca hopped in front of her computer again, and brought up her Internet browser. She did a search for a site she had seen a link to the other day, but hadn't bothered going to, because she didn't think there would be any point to it. After a few moments of scanning the search results, Barocca found the site she was looking for: The Adult Internet Film Database.
Barocca clicked on the link, and held her breath. After searching for smut on the Internet, Barocca had become leery of the hype and promise. Too many sites and links were broken, or turned out to be nothing like what they were advertised as. A moment later, Barocca breathed a sigh of relief as the graphics for the site began to load.
"Okay. I've got one foot in the door. Now what do I do?" thought Barocca.
Fortunately, the site was user friendly, and easy to use, with a minimum of menu choices and cluttering advertising banners. "It says: type in the name of a performer, and click 'go'. Seems simple enough." Barocca typed in the word 'Jeanne', and clicked her mouse on the icon.
About several seconds passed, as the application did its work. To Barocca's surprise, over a dozen results were displayed. Girls with the same first name, and different last names, as well as girls with variations on the spelling of the first name. Fortunately, they were sorted alphabetically according to the first name, and then by the last name, so it made it fairly easy to scroll down and find the entry she thought she wanted.
Barocca highlighted Jeanne's name, and clicked 'go' again. The hourglass appeared for the next several seconds as it processed. In seconds, the screen was filled with dozens of lines of neatly arranged text that filled the window, and scrolled on past the bottom. They were sorted alphabetically by the film title, a date when available, and sometimes some comments. There was only one problem.
"Page one of five!" Barocca exclaimed to herself as she looked at the bottom of the scroll bar. "Damn! I know Jeanne told me she'd been in the business for a few years when I met her. But I had no fucking idea she'd made this many videos. I'll never sort through all of these!"
Barocca moved over to her bed and sprawled out on her back, and let her thoughts come to her. "All right. I've found a decent source of information here. I've just gotta figure out the right way to use it, is all. There's no way I know enough about Jeanne's career to know which videos are which on this site."
Barocca relaxed and meditated, and thought some more about the puzzle that was presented to her. Suddenly it hit her. "I've got it! I know a hell of a lot more about my own video career, than about somebody else's. If I can manage to find a list of my own titles, I know I can figure out which ones were the wrestling ones."
Barocca went back to the PC, and went back to the main menu of the site. In the model name field, she typed in her own name, and held her breath, and clicked 'go'. To her relief, hers was the only name that displayed in the results field; not over a dozen, as with Jeanne's name.
"I knew there was a reason I chose a unique name for this business," Barocca chuckled to herself. "And they even spelled it right. Now to see if whoever designed this site, and did the research really did their homework on me," thought Barocca. She highlighted her own name, and clicked 'go' again.
The search results were much quicker this time. "Well, that figures," thought Barocca. "I wasn't a wallflower, but I didn't jump at the opportunity to make a video every time somebody called me either."
The display indicated Barocca had made just over sixty videos. "That can't be right. I know it can't more than about two-thirds that amount. I mean I should know; I was there." Then Barocca inspected the actual titles. Although she was no marketing expert, she soon caught on to the concept of some of the titles. "Some of these must be collection or rerun tapes from their titles. And who knows how many times some of my scenes were used multiple times for these things."
Then Barocca settled down, and began slowly reading and digesting the information before her. "Ah, here we go! Some of these have got to be the ones that I made for that company. 'Black Battling Bitches'. 'Catfighting Cunts'. With names like these, it's a wonder that they sold any of them at all. Let's see now. These were made five years ago. That sounds about right. I hadn't come to the Island then." At that point, the information stopped. "Hey! Where's the name of the fucking company that made any of these things?"
To her relief, Barocca realized that she only had to click the scrollbar on the bottom right of the screen, to display the final few fields of information. "Here it is: Napali Video. I knew that name was just on the tip of my tongue! That's what I remember them calling themselves when I worked for them. Now for the next trick: to see if these guys are still in business after this many years."
Barocca then did a search for 'Napali Video' and found a short list of results. Some were for other companies selling their videos. Others were some reviews of various titles. One of the first links was for the actual company website itself. "Now we're getting somewhere," thought Barocca.
As she scanned the various menus, Barocca was intrigued to find out that the company was still in business. They were taking orders for videos that would ship in a month or so, as well as a huge list of recent and older titles for sale. "Great! Now all I've gotta do is get in touch with them."
That proved to be more difficult than Barocca thought. The company took orders via snail mail, but their address was a Post Office box in Los Angeles. They had a phone number, but it was only a recording on an 800 line, where you could order videos with a credit card.
"Shit! So close, and yet still so far," muttered Barocca. Then her eyes happened to notice a link at the bottom of the page. "E-mail us with questions about special orders and custom videos," Barocca read aloud. "That's right! I remember making one video where he wanted me and another girl to act as if we were talking to some guy, while we did it. I've got no idea if the same guy who ran the business is still running it now, but this is a way to get in touch with somebody there. But what am I gonna say to these people?"
Barocca went to lunch, and mulled the problem over in her head. By the time she returned, she had formulated a plan of action. When she was seated at her computer again, Barocca wrote an e-mail to the company.
"Hi! My name's Barocca, and I worked for you as a model, a number of years ago. (She listed several titles, and included details about the actual locations of the video shootings, as well as some of the off camera events that stood out in her mind. Something that only someone who was there when the videos themselves were made could know.) I'm still in the modeling business, although I haven't been quite as active as I once was. (She'd have to come up with some way to explain her absence. That could get sticky, but she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.) I really enjoyed working with you before, and was wondering if you had any opportunities or openings to do so again. If you think you still would be able to use me, please e-mail me back, and leave me a telephone number so I can talk to you about it in more detail. Thanks! Love, Barocca."
The next day, Barocca signed on to her computer at the end of the day, and found an e-mail waiting for her in her in-box. It was actually from someone at Napali Video after all! Barocca clicked on the message, and read the body of the text. It was indeed from the fellow who ran the company. He remembered Barocca from several years ago, and some of the personal details she had supplied, had convinced him to contact her. He was eager to talk about possible future projects with her, and even supplied his telephone number.
"It's about fucking time," thought Barocca. "Finally, someone who believes I'm who I say I am, and is actually willing to talk to me."
Barocca dialed the number, and was soon talking with him across the country in Southern California. Long before she had started in the modeling and video business, Barocca had made herself talk in a very cultured, almost exotic sounding voice, as a matter of habit. It had served her well in her video career, and most people instantly recognized her when she spoke to them, including the fellow at Napali Video now.
Barocca engaged in a lengthy conversation with the fellow. To make a long story short, Barocca was welcome with open arms, to come back to the business whenever she wanted to. However, when she had tried to drop a hint and pry any information out of him on Jeanne and other girls' whereabouts, she found that he didn't know a lot more than most people. As Barocca was getting ready to end the conversation, he did give her one more glimmer of hope.
"It's funny that you should mention Jeanne, Barocca," he said. "That's twice in one week her name's come up. One of the fellows who does my still photography for me said that he'd done a photo shoot with Jeanne just last week. He was surprised that she was still in the business too. He thought she'd packed her bags and left a long time ago."
Barocca's eyes lit up on the other end of the line. It was a good thing he couldn't see how she was squirming on her seat like a nervous schoolgirl.
"Hey, that's great!" said Barocca. "Do you think you could give me his name and number please?" Barocca wrote it down carefully, asking him to repeat it twice. She thanked him, and promised him, he'd be the first one she called whenever she was in town looking for work again.
As she read the name and address in front of her, Barocca recognized the photo-grapher's name. She'd worked with him a number of times. She couldn't hope to remember which layouts she posed in for him, but the name was definitely familiar. Barocca dialed the new number in front of her. After a couple of rings, a man's voice answered. Barocca introduced herself to him, hoping that her voice would trigger a reaction in him as well.
"Barocca? Hell yes, I remember you!" he exclaimed into the phone. In the background, Barocca could hear a woman's voice angrily asking him what the fuck was going on.
"Oh shit," Barocca blushed. "I hope I didn't get you into trouble with your wife."
"Don't give it a second thought," he replied. "I'm changing film during a photo shoot here, and one of the prima donnas here has her nose out of joint. Let me call you back in an hour when I wrap things up here, and we'll talk more."
Good to his word, the phone rang at Barocca's end, a little over an hour later.
"So where've you been keeping yourself, Barocca?" he asked. "I haven't heard from you in years."
Barocca made up a story about thinking she'd found 'Mr. Right' and had settled down for a while. Only now things had changed, and she was thinking seriously about getting back into the business again. And that she was also trying to contact a few old friends. She told him how the fellow at Napali Video had tipped her off about him photographing Jeanne recently.
"Well now. I think that we can work something out here," he replied. "But it's gonna cost you. I know you've been taking care of yourself, if you're thinking about getting back into this business. Give me an exclusive so I can do your first photo shoot on your return to the world."
"Oh I could give you an exclusive, all right," thought Barocca. "Pictures and videos that nobody would believe were real in fact. Me and dozens of other girls." Barocca knew that a limited amount of what they produced on the Island was big boob and girl-girl stuff that could be marketed almost anywhere, without getting into the shemale angle. There were plenty of photo sets and videos that were only sold to private collectors.
"How about this idea?" proposed Barocca. "Not only can I get you some exclusive photos of myself. I can also get my hands on plenty of material of Ebony also. Guaranteed that none of these have been published anywhere before. I'll e-mail you some ZIP files of them, to give you a sample of them. Then you give me a way to get in touch with Jeanne. Once I actually contact Jeanne, and know you're on the level, I'll Fed-Ex out the original prints and negatives to you."
Barocca knew that he could make a lucrative fee just selling the copies of the prints to his own special clients, as well as on the Internet. With the negatives, he'd make a major profit selling them to the magazines. All for enough information that wouldn't even fill up an index card.
"You got a deal girlfriend!" he exclaimed. "You send me some of the samples tonight, and I'll have the nitty gritty on Jeanne back to you before you're in bed tonight."
"Sounds great," replied Barocca. "Look for something in your in-box from me in a little while."
Barocca sent him several ZIP files with over sixty explicit, topless shots of herself and Ebony. Nothing that showed what they were like between the legs nowadays, but still nice stuff.
"If he truly comes through with the info on Jeanne, I may actually send out the other stuff," thought Barocca.
Good to his word, less than half an hour after she had sent the ZIP's, Barocca received an e-mail in response. Filled with anticipation, Barocca opened the document. It was short and to the point. A name, address, and telephone number; even Jeanne's e-mail address.
"If nothing else, he's certainly thorough," thought Jeanne. "This had better be the real thing on Jeanne, or I'm gonna be pissed." Barocca looked at the information before her, and then at the clock. It was only about seven o'clock in the evening in California. Now was as good a time as any to take the final step.
Barocca took a deep breath, and forced herself to remain calm. If this actually turned out to be Jeanne's real telephone number, and Barocca could contact her, the real job had only just begun. She would still have to find a way to convince Jeanne to come to the Island, and hope she would want to become a shemale, like herself and the other girls.
The phone number that the photographer listed had an 818 area code. "That means Jeanne's still living somewhere in LA or one of the suburbs down there," thought Barocca.
One encouraging sign was that two people on the phone had mentioned that Jeanne was still working in the business, as recently as a week ago. That meant that Jeanne had to be taking decent care of herself, to still look good enough to be photographed for magazines.
Barocca hoped that Jeanne hadn't fallen into the tragic cycle of doing the modeling work, and then throwing all her money into booze or d**gs, as a number of other girls had done towards the end of their careers. Barocca would have to do her best job of salesmanship in getting Jeanne to see things her way, and eventually come to the Island.
"Well, there's only one way to find out," Barocca thought to herself, as she punched Jeanne's number into the telephone. After several rings, a woman's voice answered the phone.
"Hi, is this Jeanne?" asked Barocca.
"Yes, this is Jeanne," she replied. "Who's this?"
"Hey, this is a voice from your past," said Barocca. "Does the name 'Barocca' ring any bells to you?" Barocca was counting again on her unique voice striking a chord with Jeanne.
There were a few seconds of awkward silence, and then a light seemed to flash in Jeanne's head at her end of the line. "Oh, yeah! I remember you now. We both worked for a little while for that one company who made all the wrestling and catfight videos. What the heck was their name again?"
"You mean Napali Video," said Barocca. "The guy who runs it put me in touch with the photographer who works for him, and he gave me your number."
"Yeah, that's right," said Jeanne. "We were never in the same films, but we bumped into each other in the office and on the way to locations a few times. I remember you now. How've you been, girl?"
"Well, I stayed in the business myself for a couple more years after that," said Barocca. "Then I kind of dropped out of it. I found other things I wanted to do."
"Well, like you heard, I'm still doing the nasty for the films and magazines myself," said Jeanne. "I guess I've been in it so long now, that it's in my blood," she chuckled.
Barocca breathed a small sigh of relief at her end of the line. If Jeanne was still going strong after this many years in the business, there was a good chance that just might be able to persuade her to see things her way, and convince her to come to the Island.
"So what's up, Barocca?" asked Jeanne. "Is this just a social call, or did you have something else you wanted to talk about?"
"All right, I'll cut to the chase," admitted Barocca. "Please bear with me, if I'm a little long-winded here, but I'll try to make things brief. I remember a series of videos you made back in the 80's called 'Bi and Beyond'."
"Oh yeah, those things," said Jeanne. "You wouldn't believe some of the letters I got, after those came out. I had no idea that that people would actually like those, and want more."
So far, Jeanne didn't sound like she felt fed up or disgusted when talking about those older videos.
"Well, I wasn't one of the ones who wrote you any fan letters," said Barocca. "But a friend of mine showed them to me a few years later. I hope you won't think that this is really weird or kinky Jeanne, but I thought you were incredibly sexy in those."
"Why thanks, Barocca," said Jeanne. "But I mean, everybody knows those were all faked scenes. They glued a dildo to me, and painted it to match my skin. That's all they did."
"That's true," said Barocca. "But you looked like you really got into your scenes, anyway. And that really got me off watching you."
"Yeah, it was kind of nice 'being in charge' in a scene like that for a change," laughed Jeanne. "I had a lot of fun making those. It's too bad they don't have a way so you could do that in real life."
Barocca couldn't believe her ears. Hearing Jeanne admit that she liked her shemale strap-on scenes was too good to be true. She had to proceed very cautiously now, but it was apparent that Jeanne might just be interested in what she had to say next.
"Well, you may think this will sound really odd," said Barocca, "but I think I know a way that you could actually do that in real life."
"Get out of here!" laughed Jeanne. "I'm no scientist, but I know the body just doesn't work that way, girl."
"That's what most people, think," said Barocca. "Like I said, I know a place that could actually make that happen, if you think you want to give it a chance."
"I think you must've been standing too close to those photographer's flash bulbs when they went off," said Jeanne with a laugh. "You'd still have to find a way to convince me that something like this was even possible in the first place."
"Then let me show you some proof, Jeanne," said Barocca. "The one photographer gave me your e-mail address. So you've got a computer, right? Let me send you some ZIP files of photos of girls where I'm at that have gotten the 'treatment'. Take a look at those, and then I'll call you back tomorrow night."
"Okay, Barocca. I'll give you a chance to show me what you've got," said Jeanne. "Send me some of your best stuff, and if I'm convinced, I'll talk more to you tomorrow."
Barocca put together an assortment of photos of girls who were about halfway along in their cock development on the Island. Most of these featured girls whose cocks were anywhere from ten to f******n inches long. She hoped that these would be enough to convince Jeanne to take her seriously.
Barocca avoided sending Jeanne anything on herself, or Ebony, or any of the senior amazons. Better to see if she could convince Jeanne with the more moderate and somewhat realistic material first. If she could sell Jeanne on that, she'd have her just where she wanted her, once she got a good look at herself or Ebony.
The next night at a little past ten o'clock, Barocca dialed Jeanne's phone number in her quarters again. Jeanne promptly answered on the other end.
"Well, what did you think?" asked Barocca anxiously.
"Either one of two things has happened," said Jeanne. "First, either you've become some type of animator or graphic artist with way too much fucking time on her hands. The other thing is that you just might actually be telling the truth."
"I stared at some of those pictures until my eyes hurt," continued Jeanne. "And if they're fakes, they're better than anything I've seen anyone post on the Internet, or printed in the 'TV' magazines. Because you sent me so many of these, part of me is almost ready to believe you. So give with all the dirt girlfriend, and don't spare any of the juicy details."
"All right, Jeanne," said Barocca. "Get comfy, because this is gonna take a while. Here's what really happened to me in the few years since we last bumped into each other at the video company."
Over the course of the next few nights, Barocca told Jeanne all the intricate details of the Island. The only things she left out were the phenomenal sizes that the cocks of the senior amazons could reach, and the milking ritual. She didn't want to lay things on too thick, too soon to Jeanne. Barocca dropped minor hints on how she felt about Jordan, and the way that things were on the Island. By the time she was finished Jeanne knew more about things on the Island than a lot of the just recently arrived girls.
At the end of the third night of marathon phone conversations, Barocca summed up her sales pitch to Jeanne. "So that's how it'll work, Jeanne. You get an all expenses paid trip to the beautiful Bahamas. And if you like what you see, you can join the family, and become one of the girls here. What do you think?"
"Well, even if everything you've told me turns out to be bogus," said Jeanne, "I could still sure use a vacation, and I've never been to the Bahamas before. And if these girls are all that they're cracked up to be, and I can become one of them too, then I may just not want to leave."
"All right! That's the spirit, girl," said Barocca. "Just come here, and check things out, and then make a decision. That's all I ask."
"So how am I gonna get there, anyway?" asked Jeanne. "I'm not exactly rolling in dough right now."
"Just let me take care of that," said Barocca. "In a couple of days I'll send some money to your Paypal account. Then all you’ll have to do is book a flight out of LA Airport. Once I get it all squared away, I'll call you with the final details. Just have your bags packed, and be ready to leave in a few days."
Barocca had a plan formulated on how she thought she could get Jeanne to the Island, without raising too much suspicion. It would mean doing some personal photos, intimate phone calls and private webcam shows for friends and contacts she still had from the outside world, but she was certain she could pull it off. That much activity might eat up a lot of bandwidth and slow things down on the small network that was set up on the Island, but she was past the point of no return by now. And then once Jeanne was actually here, Barocca would take her under her wing, and work her magic on her.
"And then," thought Barocca, "we'll really see some changes around here."
Nadene
- 02.03.2020
- 34
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Milking Time B4 Chapter 2 Barocca Duz Jeanne
- 2 years ago
- 27
- 0
Milking Time B3 Chapter 2 Barocca Confronts Ebony
- 4 years ago
- 30
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