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Story about a horny payfone
The screen fades up from black, to show a dark, rainswept
street. Centre screen is an old-fashioned telephone
booth, the kind made out of red-painted wood paneling,
lit by a single neon street lamp. From down the street
approaches a girl, about twenty years old, long black
hair, wearing a leather jacket, a black leather miniskirt,
and knee-length leather boots. The only sounds are her
bootheels clacking and the faint whisper of her
stocking-clad thighs brushing against each other in the
quietness. The camera tracks her legs, following the
glint of blue light off the curves of leather-clad thighs
as she moves. She walks up to the telephone booth, opens
the door, enters. Inside the booth, we see her pick up
the receiver. It is one of the late-1970's sort, the one
shaped like a banana with large round ear- and
mouth-pieces at either end. This is rather unusual, as the
coin-box of the phone itself also sports one of those
cylindrical mouthpieces common on telephones from the
early 1930's, and is introduced as a deliberate anomaly.
She taps the handset hook, listening at the receiver.
Apparently, she hears no dialtone, as she slams the
coin-box of the phone with the palm of her hand. The
booth rattles with the blow, and then, in the quiet that
follows, the door locks itself with a noticeable click.
Her eyes narrow slightly. She turns to examine the door,
and then hears a buzz from the handset. She raises her
eyes in exasperation, then turns back to the phone. She
puts a coin in the slot, and dials a five-digit number.
A laugh emanates from the handset, and suddenly, the
mouthpiece set into the coin-box elongates, thrusting
itself into her open mouth. The end expands, forcing her
mouth open, expands further, until it's so big that she
can't get it out of her mouth. She slams the handset
against the side of the coinbox, and it tears itself out
of her grasp, winding its spiral cord around her arms,
binding them to her sides. The handset then spins
artfully, and dives up the back of her skirt. In a
closeup of her face, we see her eyes widen, hear her cries
muffled by the mouthpiece jammed into her mouth. The
handset lifts the back of her skirt up, revealing her
behind, and then slowly forces itself between her
buttocks, and up her ass, ear-piece first. Her behind
moves violently from side to side (yet always remaining in
shot) as she tries to avoid it, but the handset wriggles
all the way in up to the mouthpiece, accompanied by her
screams. In a closeup of her face, her eyes widen
further, and her body is pushed up rhythmically with the
thrusts of the handset. (A brief shot shows her legs
waving about as the thrusts lift her off the ground). Her
screams are now more or less just bestial grunts, as the
speed of the thrusts increases to a sort of climax, where
the coinbox buzzes, her cheeks suddenly bulge and the
mouthpiece stuck in her mouth pops out, spurting white
fluid over her face. She spews almost a pint of this stuff
out, coughing and choking, and falls against the coin box,
from which comes a `ding' sound, and a clink as her coin
is refunded. The mouthpiece set into the coinbox hangs
down limply, fluid dripping from the end.
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