~~~~This is almost a full chapter of nonsense and stuff that would go in the middle of some story I'll eventually write ~~~~

I line the props up, making sure that everything for the scene is there. In just a few minutes I'll be hanging from chains waiting for the whip, fake whip I should add. It's the fifth day of filming the parody and everybody is so hyped for it, as am I.

In this scene, "The black knight" whips my character to gain information about my team, we have a real whip to make the noise in the other scenes and a fake one made from cotton fluff to use on people.

In the back stage room, I start to put on my costume, which is a male outfit, for the scene. Red hair, fake abs (though I don't need them for this scene), everything to make me look like the infamous internet star.

"Are you ready Wisty?" Chris calls from the door behind all the costumes.

"Yup, I'm coming." I say making my way through the dozens of strange outfits.

Being strapped face down on a counter isn't as sexual as you would think, it's a bit bland. Here I am though, on a tilting counter waiting for the camera's to roll. George grabs his prop for the round and gets in position, ten seconds until start. I adjust my head into the perfect position, five seconds. The camera starts and its go time.

"Where are you hiding your people?" George yells, getting into his character. I remain silent and he cracks the whip on the floor. "Tell me! Or I start hitting you." 

"Do it then." I hiss, lowering my voice to match the pitch that I need.

 George keeps a stone cold expression and cracks the whip across my back, only it's not the fake one. I scream as it cuts into my skin, sobbing when it's ripped back out. Upon seeing the mistake everybody gasps when the blood flows steadily down my back. Chris runs to my side, grasping desperately at the bindings on either hand, when they won't come open he snaps the rope above the bindings and I fall into his arms sobbing hopelessly. George is frozen where he dropped the weapon, staring at the blood; my blood, on the surface of the counter.

Chris rushes outside to his car, sitting in the back seat with me. Mike the camera man sits in the passenger seat while Monica drives to the emergency room. 

Several hours later, I'm leaving the hospital with stitches and a prescription for pain killers. Chris carries me home, being as gentle as his size will let him. Laying me on the bed, he walks around to his side and gets in with me, when he lays down I crawl onto his chest and kiss his jaw.

"It'll be okay babe." He whispers and pulls off the wig that I'm still wearing. I nod into his collar bone and reach up to wipe away an imaginary itch from my face. Chris runs a hand through my long hair, covering the large bandage on my back.

"You're so pretty, you know." He says and leans in to kiss  the top of my head.

"Yeah." I mumble and start to doze off