Custom**

You’re wearing a brown turtleneck as seen in attached pic, tight jeans, glasses. The jeans
are worn ridiculously low – down below your hipbones, so low the top part of your *ss is
kind of hanging out – and the turtleneck has been rolled up so it’s covering your breasts
but basically none of your belly. You’re not wearing underwear.
The video opens and you’re sitting at a desk working on a laptop. You’re sitting way
forward in the chair with your *ss sort of jutting out behind you and there is plenty of
cr*ck visible (pic attached as example but they should be even lower).
30 seconds: Cameraman gets fairly close and we look at your back and *ss and then at the
side of your stomach, which is probably hanging down a bit since you’re leaning forward.
60 seconds: You pull back from the computer, sit up straight, runs your hands through
your hair and stretch. Take your time and make it super sexy. You’re really sucking in
your belly and jutting out your breasts. Maybe you twist a l*ttle side to side, etc.
You lean back in to resume what you were doing when you look at your cell phone. (If
you want to make it ring, props, but not necessary). You pick it up and answer it.
“Hey. (smiling) Yep. It was too easy. (laughs) I’m downloading it all now. He’s always
been obsessed with me. The belly thing worked. He was so distracted he didn’t even see
me steal the PIN. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost. (laughs) OK, well listen, let me
finish this. By tomorrow we’ll be on a beach and I can distract you with my oiled-up
belly in a bikini, OK? (you smile) Alright. Love you, too.”
You hang up the phone and go back to work. We see a few seconds close-up of your face
as you stare intently at the screen and type.
Then we cut back to you from behind just as you’re startled by the sound of someone
coming in. You swivel around in your chair and face the camera. It’s him. And he’s got a
small with a silencer. It’s aimed right at your exposed belly.
Instantly, you start breathing hard as you panic. Your belly’s sucking in and out as you
look at him with fear.
“Please ... it’s not what you think. Just ... put that thing down. You don’t want to
accidentally sh*ot me do you? I know you don’t want to hurt me.”
You look down at your belly, which is trembling, and then back up.
“Listen ... it wasn’t my idea. Please. It’s only money. I ... I know you like me. We could
be together.”
The cameraman tosses you a l*ttle bottle of b*by oil.

“The beach? I ... I don’t understand.” But you do. He heard your whole conversation and
now he’s demanding that you oil up your belly, but not for your lover at the beach.
“OK. I’ll ... I’ll do it. Just stop pointing that at my belly.”
You pour a l*ttle drop of b*by oil, which runs down to your belly button. Then a bit more.
Then you begin sexily rubbing it all over your long expanse of exposed belly.
“Like this? Please. You don’t have to hurt me. I’m doing what your want. I’ll ... I’ll do
anything. Anything.”
And then, with a slightly seductive look, you start slowly rolling your belly. You’re
playing the one card you think will work.
“You know you want this. I’ve seen the way you look at it. It’s yours ... OK? Every
fantasy you’ve ever had about this body. About this perfect belly.”
You’re slowly rolling your belly as you say that.
“Just tell me what you want.”
And then he lowers the
“Wait. You’re crazy. No!”
He sh*ots and your belly immediately j*rks inward, then you arch backward, raising your
arms above your head as you clutch at the chair, sucking your belly in deeply as you
stretch.
You then briefly squeeze the side of your belly as you look down at it.
“My b...belly button. What have you done?”
Agonizingly you slide out of the chair and crawl toward the camera. Then you pull
yourself up before falling backward and lying there propped up on your elbows.
“Please there’s still time. Don’t let me d*e. Help me!”
Your belly is sucking in and pushing out.
“Oh ... it hurts!”
You reach down and unbutton the top of your fly. As you pop it open you sort of groan.
Like even that tiny movement hurt. You then take each side of your fly and slowly tug it
open bit by bit. Gasping as you do. You’re not going to show anything obviously, but the

jeans are so low at this point that it looks like we might see something at any second. But
you stop before we do, and then arch your back as your belly j*rks in and out.
“Oh g*d. Help me! Please! I don’t wanna d*e.”
You clutch at your chest and as you do start pulling upward on your turtleneck.
“I ... I can’t b-breathe.”
You pull at it so hard that it actually starts rising up, maybe there’s even a bit of
underboob showing. Again, you stop before we see anything. This is just a massive, sexy
tease, making your belly that much longer.
After doing that, you struggle up to your elbows one more time.
“Please. Not like this. You know you wanted me. (coughing) You can f*ck me. Just ...
don’t let me d*e. Only you can save me. Oh g*d. Please! I’m begging you! Don’t let me
d*e! Don’t let me d*e!”
You fall back for the final time, stretching your arms over your head and arching your
back as much as you can while sucking your belly in as deeply as possible. You then do
some big gasps where your belly pushes in and out. And then slowly, you exhale, your
head falling limply to the side.
Annnnd scene.

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