No CGI (male) 8
Story by Tagenar on SoFurry
A dinosaur liked your porn script. Now entering pre-production.
No CGI (male) 8
by tagenar (https://www.furaffinity.net/user/tagenar | https://tagenar.sofurry.com/)
[A dinosaur liked your porn script. Now entering pre-production.]
X liked the script you wrote.
You have been sitting against the painted wall for the past half hour just taking it in. After years of rejection, someone finally had good things to say about your work. He did complain about the typos, but that’s because you bought a new ribbon for the typewriter but forgot about the correction ribbon.
Perhaps it’s time to buy a word processing computer. Maybe something that can do “multimedia,” whatever that is—you have no idea—it’s all just hype going around.
The entire script is only fifteen pages, and most of the dialogue is at the beginning. The story had been in your mind for years. It just needed a place to set it, and something to drive it.
X was particularly intrigued by the parts that happen after the fetishy sex scenes and gratuitous close-ups of dripping slits and dinosaur dicks entering human butts. When pressed, you couldn’t explain why you wrote them. They just needed to be in there.
That’s when X quipped you are definitely a rejected Hollywood writer because this feels more like an indie film than a sex tape, but it was weird and artistic enough to work as both. The artsy ending was the only part that required any kind of special planning and effects. You presented X with a challenge, creatively and cinematically, and that’s what he is doing now, talking with a few others about how they could pull it off.
Hearing other dinosaurs climbing onboard with this idea—your idea—fills you with determination. Maybe it has value after all. It didn’t have value when you put it in one of your Next Generation spec scripts, but the dinosaur porn stars want to run with it.
Meanwhile, the others are preparing to shoot a scene in front of one of the parking-garage-painted backdrops. You get the feeling the setting doesn’t matter for this one, and you are here because R is going to be in it, doing what he does best.
E is also here. The two of you painted R’s scales to make him appear to be a different person. He is now orange and black. You wonder what kind of body paint this is, and where they get it in large enough quantities to cover dinosaurs on a regular basis.
Some parts were more fun to paint than others.
It felt weird, R rubbing snouts with E and then rubbing cheeks with you. Watching someone else ogle and grope R also made you feel weird, and several times E bumped noses with you, which helped you feel united in a task as well as affection.
R had shown you pictures of them as hatchlings, and R stood out even then. He was indeed a big raptor. Working out only exaggerated it, adding definition to his bulk, and today E told you something that helped it all make sense.
E was the one who got R to start lifting weights. E kept pushing him to get huge, and the bigger R got, the more attentive E became. That much was obvious even now; he dripped constantly while helping you paint. Barely a moment went by he wasn’t feeling him up, licking his scales, or scenting his slit juice.
R reminded you that raptors want to live in groups. Humans force them to live apart. Hell, humans in this country force one another to live in atomic social units—half the conflicts in society come from this social structure being forced on others. You have simply become part of a dinosaur pack.
You thought you would feel jealous, but after sharing the experience of painting R, exploring R’s muscles with E—which became a collaboration of appreciation instead of a competition for attention—you feel included.
Yes, sitting here on the floor against the wall, watching dinosaurs setting up lights and testing camera views and microphones surrounding an over-muscled Utahraptor whose slit is leaking even as he waits for the scene to begin, you belong here.
You can’t help but notice E has volunteered for the glamorous duty of mopping up R’s slit juice wherever he moves. You are certain he is the reason R’s apartment is so clean, and why the orange raptor doesn’t seem to care where his jizz flies. You wonder how often E stops by and what he uses to clean up after his brother. You imagine him licking the entire apartment clean.
The door on the other side of the abandoned factory opens, and in walks someone you never expected to see outside of the club. You climb to your feet, eyes wide, and jog across the concrete floor.
“Lawrence!”
He smiles. “___! Had a feeling I’d see you here!”
“Are you in this thing with R?”
Lawrence is wearing loose clothes meant to hide his bulk. They don’t quite manage it, but the effort is there. He is removing his shirt right now. His pecs hang over his abs so far you wonder how he makes drinks with all this going on. You hear claws clicking across the floor, and somehow you recognize them as E’s.
Sure enough, the dark green raptor with white stripes on his fingers and torso clicks past you and nuzzles the human’s rippling stomach. Lawrence pats him on the head like a puppy.
“E finally convinced me to join the dinosaur underground and do a video,” he says.
You notice E taking the opportunity to feel the back of Lawrence’s arm. You are jealous for only an instant until you remember can you grope R’s at any time.
“_This one_ has been pitching me ideas for months,” he finishes.
You laugh. “What finally sold you?”
E has practically wrapped himself around the human and is feeling him up while Lawrence pets him.
“He promised me fame and fortune.”
The green raptor smacks him on the ass. “Just fa[m]e. I didn’t say it would [p]ay.”
“Yes, yes, I’ll be famous among dinosaurs. They’ve never had a buff human before.”
You look at E, who has circled Lawrence like a cat, as if to rub every scale against every muscle on his body.
“Getting both Lawrence and R in the same video...”
“I know what I like,” E says.
You huff and turn your nose up at Lawrence. “You never let _me_ feel your ass.”
The shirtless human shrugs. “I had other drinks to make.”
E is leading him toward the set. You step aside and walk with them. You don’t feel bad about staring now.
“Damn, man,” you say. “You look bigger here than you do in the club.”
Lawrence laughs, giving his pecs a few bounces. “You always leave good tips. You deserve to see my dick.”
You and E are both staring at his arms in motion. E glances at you. You smile. He winks, bumps noses with you. E smells a little of motor oil.
“So what will you be doing with R?”
E finally unwraps from the human and walks on his other side. “A sig[m]a.”
“Sigma,” you say, recalling the cheat sheet X showed you. “That’s a territory video, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it’ll be [m]ostly [p]osturing.”
You laugh. “Hmmmm, can I help? Always wanted to see Lawrence from low angles.”
The human smiles, reaching over and slapping you on the back. “Only if you’re professional about it.”
“Ask E. I’m a professional comma.”
E has a hand on one of Lawrence’s pecs. “He is. That’s his na[m]e in the credits.”
Lawrence smiles. “Really?”
He offers you the other pec. You take it, but to your surprise you feel weird about it. By now X has noticed Lawrence’s arrival and is running to meet up. You still marvel how they manage to run without moving their heads.
X nuzzles you and then Lawrence. “So[m]e dinosaurs get off to territorial dis[pl]ays. Every s[p]ecies has its own. No[b]ody has ever done one with a hu[m]an involved. We’ll have at least six ca[m]eras going. Need to ca[p]ture this fro[m] every angle, es[p]ecially low angles. Dinosaurs love those.”
You laugh. “I can help.”
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https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4539730.James\_L\_Steele