Part 83

Posted by Barbanne on May 14, 2003 at 18:41:15:



"Barb, you never told us what went on before you came here."
Alex looked at me quizzically.
I sort of grinned.
He looked at Loreen.
"Do you know any of this stuff?"
"No way. I met Barbanne waitressing and before that she was a mystery."
"So tell us of your movie star days."
"Movie star," I laughed.
"Well whatever."
"Movie extra and to explain how this happened I'll have to reiterate some stuff I've either told you before or hinted at."
"Go on then we are, as they say," he looked at Loreen, "all ears."
I told my story.
It was at the age of thirteen that I realised I loved "death."
I played games with boys where the good guys, which was always them, shot up the bad guys, which was always me, and over and out went the bad guy, often to be handled and carted off the field of combat. Well, that was when I became aware that I liked being handled by boys and I especially liked it when I was playing "dead". I found the feeling of being a victim very exciting in a way in which nothing had been exciting before. I didn't understand sexual excitement then, but that's what this feeling which took my breath away and made my body tingle throughout, was. I just knew it was a feeling that pleasured me more than anything else I had known. And then I found when I would be playing dead, the feeling of being at the mercy of others caused me to become so excited that I had small orgasms. I didn't know what these were, but I knew they involved "down there" and that afterwards this was often damp and I didn't really know what that was either.
I sort of felt it was probably all a bit disgusting and I knew my ultra religious guardians would have definitely disapproved, so I didn't tell them and I didn't stop doing it either because it was really, really nice.
Then I started dreaming in my head about being killed and sometimes when I woke and didn't have to get up, or at night when I lay in bed and hadn't gone to sleep, I'd lie there with my eyes closed and go all limp and imagine I was dead and it felt nice and I found I got excited down below then too. Then I dreamed and fantasised that when I was dead some one, usually one of the boys at school whom I fancied from afar, would come and rape my body (whatever rape was) and that was so exciting that I would get wet down there again. Later an episode of date rape or at the least date sex without consent ruined that particular fantasy for me, but I still dreamed of being dead and of being made love to, whilst dead, by a caring and considerate ravisher.
I noticed that reading about girls dying or being murdered could trigger my fantasies and I would put myself in their place and play out my death in my mind. Then I found teenage slasher films often contained scenes where girls my age or thereabouts would get killed and I started seeking out these films and found I wanted to be those girls more than anything. I fantasised furiously while watching these films and the thought of playing dead under the full glare of film lights with a camera recording everything and people all walking around my "killed" body was so great that I ached for it to be so.

As a teenager in my eighteenth year, I went overseas away from Australia, backpacking, and visited, among other places, Italy as part of my preparation for going to University where I was to do a degree in Arts with emphasis on writing, drama and the fine arts.
I was chronically short of money and whilst looking for work found an ad for extras wanted for an Italian movie company. Well, Italian movies had often contained many of my favourite scenes and so, heart in mouth and in a state of semi-sexual excitement, I took myself along for an interview. This was conducted in broken English and then I had to strip off and show my body along with a gaggle of good looking Italian girls.
Well, I burn something awful and so stay out of the sun at all times or cover myself completely if I have to go out in it. So, here I was, pale, white skin, and obvious freckles and I'm standing next to all these gorgeous, suntanned Italian girls whose bikini marks are dead white alongside their fabulous summer tans. The guy is casting for a Carpathian corpse and so my white, wan look won the day and I got selected.

My first film was called something like Donne Sanguine and meant Blood Woman or some such and was about a Countess who keeps eternal youthfulness by bathing in the blood of virgins.
That's me. Or rather I was the first of a number of virgins she got.
In my first appearance in the film I'm dancing in the town square, dressed in a gypsy skirt, anklets, bangles etc and wearing a matching, fairly tiny, gypsy type bra. I've got heaps of dark eye shadow and magenta lipstick and magenta painted nails. I am dancing around, barefoot and wiggling my hips and shimmying my tummy and hoicking up my skirt to show plenty of leg and I'm flicking my long frizzy hair this way and that. I'm seen in a long shot from a camera positioned where the countess is eyeing me off with her cronies as a potential source of a bucket of blood. The camera zooms in on me as I dance and the audience knows I'm dead meat.
One of the countess's cronies invites me up to read her fortune and I look up at where she is standing and anyone who missed it before, now knows I'm a goner.
My next scene is I'm sitting at a table dressed and made up as before, reading the countess's fortune in the cards. She produces a diamond bracelet and like the grasper I am in real life I can't take my eyes off it. She comes around behind me and slips it onto my throat. Despite playing an old lady, the Italian actress playing the countess is young, heavily made up, and stacked in reality and when she comes behind me her nipples are poking my ear. I'm rapt in the bauble and don't see her pull out a stiletto and don't know its there until whammo she plunges it into my back. I look into the panavision lens like surprise, then shock, horror, and my mouth falls wide open and I drool a bit and my eyelids flutter furiously and then my eyes roll upwards, the camera pulls back and floppo I hit the table deado!
My next scene I'm being dragged along a passage in the castle, heels dragging, arms dangling, head bobbing, dead girl.
Then you see me laid out on a table. I'm now bare breasted,my bra gone forever, skirt hoicked up as far as the censor will allow and the countess's cronie plunges a hollow spear with a tube attached into the plump part of my breast and gurgle gurgle my life's blood flows out. The countess collects a bucket full and sucks the dregs and I'm given some more make up to look spectrally white.
So there I was, laid out on a table dress up around my waist and bare breasted while actors did things to me and cameras and lights revealed and peered at me.
I loved it.
My second last scene shows a kid out chasing rabbits and he comes around some bushes and looks down and there, sprawled out on the grass, naked and white and bloodless and dead, is my body. He runs off screaming and the camera follows him while I lie dead in the front of the frame.
Last scene for me, the sixteenth century cops carry my naked body out of the forest, all limped out and dangly floppy. They dump me on a cart and disappointment for the audience, cover me over and away goes the cart. My bare legs and feet dangling is your last view of me in Blood Woman.
The director reckoned I was a pretty good stiff, (see I was loving it where other extras were just doing it) and he offered me a part in another movie.

This time I was a saloon girl in a spaghetti western and in my only scene I got dragged out of the saloon by a fat, cigar smoking, moustachioed villain with sausage like fingers. Well this guy was actually a very sweet gay guy whom I loved heaps, but in the movie he looked ferocious and terrifying. I was dressed in a red off the shoulder dress with a hooped skirt and had a choker around my neck and, at the director's insistence, no panties on and I looked like your true trashy bar girl.
He gets me outside on the dirty dusty street and hurls me off the planked sidewalk. I staggered out into the street and he drew his gun and I looked shit scared and bango! he shot me through the breast. Down I collapsed in the dusty street, dead! He came over to where I was lying one leg screwed up under me and my arms outflung and my eyes shut and my mouth open and make up had bloodied me up and my killer grabbed the front of my bodice and ripped it open to the waist, exposing my tits and my tummy and leaving my dress in tatters on either side of my naked upper body. At this point the good guy comes along and he and the bad guy shoot it out, resulting in my poor porky fat gay friend getting himself shot down. All the while this gunfight was being filmed I was lying half stripped and dead and a big fan was creating a blowing dusty wind for the scene. This the director liked because it kept blowing my dress up and then it would flop down and the wind machine would blow it up again and if you look very carefully you'll definitely see I had no panties on as I lay there dead. I got dust up my nose and under my eyelids and just thick in my pubic hairs and when I finally had finished my scene as my friend died on top of me, I got up and dusted myself off but had to spend forever under the shower washing off the dust of "Texas" (Texas Italian style that is)
I loved this part too and love watching myself dead in this film.

My director friend reckoned I was queen of the corpses and I was given another part right away. See, because I didn't even understand Italian, I got parts where if I had to say something I could say anything and they'd have some Italian girl dub my voice later. Well in my next part I did get to say a few lines but they were like.
"Your drink Madamme."
And "Your bath is ready Madamme."
And "Madamme looks beautiful today."
See I was a slave girl in a sword and sandal saga and really my best scene's dialogue, which didn't have to be dubbed, was like, "Aaaaaaaaaaagggggggghhhhhhhh!!!!!!!" when I was grabbed by the hair and run through with a sword while standing around naked with six other slave girls while Madamme had a bath.
Then together with Madamme we all ended up in a pile of naked dead girls and I'm the one with the long brown permed hair who is lying over Madamme and under a busty blonde and you can see my arms hanging towards the camera and my breasts are the ones with the biggest and brownest nipples. And my eyes are really wide open and unfocussed, and I'm awash in blood as it runs out of my mouth, nose and everywhere.
Another cinematic triumph.

After a working holiday of six months in sunny Italy, I returned to Australia. I went off to University and at the age of twenty, half way through my course, found myself, as always, chronically, desperately short of money.
I saw an ad for movie extras and went along and told them about my Italian experiences and did an interview and a screen test and landed a job.
Now, Aussie flicks aren't always very tasteful but they are usually very graphic.
In my first part I was a babe in a beach house prancing around in very, very, short shorts and a halter that left most of my tummy on show and I'm seen in long shot being perved on, through binoculars, by a maniacal gardener, who is perched up in the sandhills overlooking my beach house. He watches me and masturbates, grunting and stuff and, when finished jerking himself off, comes down to the house where I am.
This scene is like the camera is his eyes and what it sees is what he sees. He finds a patio door unlocked, of course I haven't bothered to lock that, (I'm asking for it aren't I? Thats what the audience is thinking) and in he comes. I'm in the living room totally unaware of him and, as he watches, I strip down to purple satin bra and panties. Then I pop off my bra and, with my back to him, proceed to do touch my toes and swivels of my hips and such like excercises. He (the camera) comes closer and closer and then he grabs me by the hair and forces me forward and shoves my head into a big fish tank.
Well, lots of close ups of me gasping and struggling under water and mouth open swallowing water and feebly kicking a bit and the camera circles me as I'm drowning head down in the fish tank. Finally, I burble out a lot of bubbles and I'm finished, sort of bent over and kissing the bottom of the fish tank. The camera explores my satin clad bum and then moves up and around my nudity until it focusses on my face, underwater, eyes bugged open and mouth wide and staring sightlessly at the sand and the little plastic galleons while the guppies swim around and past me.
One last scene for me when my house guest comes home and finds me dead with my head in the fish tank and then I'm seen half covered with a sheet, lying on the floor as the cops do their stuff.
My next film for the same guys has me as a backpacker who runs into a homicidal hillbilly who drags me into his barn and then proceeds to give me a whale of a beating, ripping my clothes off and bloodying my face and body until finally I'm lying half dead in the straw, covered in dirt and blood and otherwise nude and he gets an electric cattle prod and uses it to torture me. I jerk and twitch and spasm as he whacks me with it and eventually he shoves it into my vagina and gives me the full charge and kills me.
Told you they were graphic but tasteless.
I don't like watching my death in this film much as its really, really brutal.

Back to Uni and I finished off my course.

After graduation I went back to Europe and whilst in England got to work as a victim in my first US film. It was being shot in England and Spain to save money even though it was set in Montana. It was a cheapo, teen slasher flick and I looked enough like a teenager to get a part as a victim. My appearance in this film had me making love to a young guy by a lake. It was teenagers' summer camp, you know the story well I'm sure. Our love making moved from kissing and fondling to getting stripped and simulated sex. All the time the camera prowls around in the bushes watching us like a voyeur and you're certain we are both going to get whacked, but no, we finish and get dressed and go back inside and I go to my room where I think my room mate is asleep in her lower bunk. She isn't, she's stabbed to death and all bloody in the showers and the old serial chopper of gals is in the bed instead. I strip off and climb into bed in my panties only and they're like miniscule and I'm lying there, on my back but with my head turned to one side looking into the camera. The killer shoves a rusty old cavalry sabre through my bed and through me. My facial expression goes like shock, horror, pain, and then starey eyed death as the blade appears between my bare tits. Blood gurgles out of my mouth and wets the pillow and I'm killed yet again, naked except for panties and in a nice touch they go a dark colour as I stain them by peeing after I die. I get a close up of my dead face then a slow pan still in close up down my dead naked body to the darkening pantie crotch and then a slow pull back for a full body shot of Barbanne dead! The camera stays on my corpse for several seconds before someone bursts in to tell me my room mate is dead, only to find me dead too.

Back to Italy.

I landed three more parts with my old friend the director.
They didn't involve much because in each case when you first see me in the movie I am dead already, so all my acting involved playing a corpse.
The first film has an adventurer guy coming across a clearing in the jungle and there, heaped up is a pile of naked, dead, nuns and I'm one of these. For this, along with the other girls, I had my pussy hair shaved off. As he watches horrified, two spectacularly built black guys (they were actually a couple of American college guys on holiday in Italy) grab me by an arm each and drag my body over to a boiling pot and seemingly dismember me. Good shot of my disembodied head floating in the boiling water. Well, a latex model of my head anyway. But the severed neck dripped plenty of blood.
Then there was a sort of el cheapo disaster movie in which a typhoon hits Florida, well, Calabria actually. In this my appearance consisted of floating semi naked and dead, face down in the sea water, as a wave kept washing me back and forth against a sea wall. A battered rescue worker sees me, says "Here's one.", grabs a handful of my hair and drags my head up, whereupon sea water gushes out of my mouth, and he says "Nah. She's dead." and drops me like floppo and I sloosh out to sea on the next backwash from a wave.
In my last film appearance I'm lying absolutely stark nude on a slab in a mortuary, stretched out on my back and all peaceful and dead looking, and a necrophiliac dwarf climbs up and has sexual relations with my dead body. Fairly tasteful show eh!
Anyway I loved being nude and dead so much that I just lay there while they changed camera angles and tried this and that and shot and reshot the scene. I pretended I didn't want to risk not getting the same pose, but when I lay there through lunch I reckon the director finally realised he was dealing with a necrobabe.
I really love playing dead.
I finished up what I was doing in Italy and said goodbye to my movie pals. They all agreed I had been the best victim they had seen. I knew my convincing performances were a result of my love of what I had been able to do, my desire for exhibitionism and my tingly delight in being the submissive loser. The poor sad victim, the body around which the action is built.
I came back home to the dole and eventually a job waitressing and of course I had never gone back to being that bod you see in the murder mysteries or the horror tales until I joined Playdead. I still get really jealous when I see other girls being dead in some particularly juicy part and know that I would have loved to be that woman. I can only hope they are also getting that thrill within them, that spark of sexual excitement when they get to play dead in front of an audience of so many. To know that their limp, lifeless, form is turning on heaps of viewers.
As well as themselves.
I know I did and it will always be one of my favourite times.
Alex looked at me and then at Loreen.
"Well, well, wonders will never cease. Loreen what say we go down to Blockbuster and rent a few old movies?"
"Way to go," she grinned and they high fived.
I blushed.