I filled out paperwork while studying my co-star, Candy Sweets, as she sat in the makeup chair. The MUA, Gia, dabbed globs of coverup to Candy’s face to hide the abundance of teenage acne. The makeup may have offered the illusion of clear skin, but the irony was, the more makeup that was applied, the worse her skin became. Never mind addressing the actual problem, just hide it away and project the façade of perfection. Image is the only thing that truly matters in this business, after all. Once the acne was hidden, Candy was quite fuckable. She was pouty-lipped, weighed an airy one-hundred pounds, and had natural C-cup tits. Something about her did seem off, though. Besides the blemishes, her skin was green like she was working off a hangover, her eyes glazed as if her mind was a mile away. She probably spent the last night rolling on molly, bouncing around clubs with her fake I.D. bumming fruity cocktails from horny guys all too eager to ply a porn star with alcohol. New girls like her were always showing up to set half dead from the night before. At this point, so long as she’s ready to fuck she can spend her nights sucking nitrous oxide for all I care. Who needs brain cells anyway? Busty, blonde, and braindead: the holy trinity.

Gia noticed Candy’s sickly appearance. “Listen,” she said. “I’ve been there so many times before, partying too hard and then having to work the next day. What you need to do is chug a red bull and douche with ice cold water, that’ll perk you right up, I promise. That, and knowing you’re about to earn a grand just for taking some dick. You do wanna get paid right? If not, let me know now so I can tell Phil and save us all some time. Personally, I’d like to avoid a meltdown, you know how pissed he can get.”

“He’s always mad,” Candy muttered under her breath.

“That’s Phil,” said Gia. “It’s our job to smile and look pretty, so chin up, honey.”

Candy lurched forward and closed her eyes as if fighting the urge to throw up. Just then, Phil Holes walked into the room, and she straightened her posture, regaining her composure for the time being. She forced her lips into a slight smile.

“Hey, look at you,” said Phil. “You’re alive, you’re here, you got two tits, and all your front teeth. When you’re done getting sha-lacked by Gia here, dig through your suitcase, put on some skimpy lingerie, and let me film you and a complete stranger slobber all over each other for thirty minutes. Then I pay you and you go home. Sound good? Excellent.”

Phil left and Gia finished makeup. “You’re all set. I’m going to go have a smoke.” Gia walked out, leaving the two of us alone. I watched Candy lumber out of the chair and over to her bags while avoiding my stare. She knelt and opened one of her overstuffed suitcases, sifting through Ziploc bags of different lingerie sets.

I took this as an opportunity to break the ice.

“Followed you on Twitter,” I said. “I have almost 30k followers. We should take a selfie once you’re dressed and I’ll post it, help get you some new fans.”

“Sure.”

“I love shooting for this guy.”

“Huh?”

“Phil. Yeah, he really lets us fuck for real, you know? No bullshit. Some companies are all like, “Do it like you would in private,” or something stupid. Fuck that. Logan’s here to put on a show, you feel me?”

“Uh huh,” she said.

“I say this to my agent all the time—Beverly from Paragon Models, you know her? She’s the best, fuckin’ loves me. Anyway, I say to Bev, ‘These days Logan is only concerned with three things, what time Logan needs to be on set, how much Logan is getting paid, and which hole Logan is fucking.”

Candy offered a cheap laugh and returned to her suitcase. She settled on a bag, unzipping it pulling out the lingerie.

I tugged my cock from outside my pants, giving it some weight. I walked over toward Candy and stood in front of her face. I unzipped, reached into my waistband, and pulled it out. “So, what do you think?” I said. “You gonna be able to handle all this?”

Candy’s throat bulged, and her eyes started to water. She looked around and spotted the bucket sitting on a countertop. She grabbed a douche bottle and ran toward the bathroom. “Gotta do my girly stuff,” she said

I pulled up my pants. “Well, excuse me.”

Phil approached, irritated. “What the fuck is going on? We’re burning daylight here.”

“The chick is in the bathroom,” I said. “She looks like she’s about to blow chunks, her skin is all green and shit. I think—”

“That’s your problem right there,” said Phill, cutting me off. “You’re paid to fuck, not to think. All you need to concern yourself with is getting your dick hard and holding your nut until I say so, got it.”

“You’re the boss.”

“That’s right. I’ll handle this.” He knocked on the bathroom door. “How we doin’ in there, doll?”

“Fine,” she softly called back.

“Waiting on you,” he said. “So, uh, just meet us in the living room whenever you’re ready. Oh, and if you feel the urge to puke, can you just try and keep your makeup somewhat intact? Thanks.”

Phil and I moseyed into the living room to twiddle our thumbs while we waited. Eventually, Candy appeared clad in lingerie and wearing a smile. “I’m ready,” she said.”

Phil jumped to his feet and grabbed his camera. “Let’s get this show on the road.” Candy joined me on the couch. I grabbed one of her hands and rested it on my bulge. “Time to play,” I said.

“Okay Kids,” Phil continued, the lens aimed at us. “Thirty minutes, five positions, do whatever you want, nobody cares, porn is free. Ready?”

I gave a thumbs up to the camera.

“Good,” he said. “Action!”

I dove into Candy’s neck, groping her tits as I humped her hand. She seemed inattentive and disinterested but I didn’t care. I was there to work and put on a good performance. This was my time to shine. I got her naked and slipped off my pants, my cock hard as a rock in her limp grip.

“On your knees,” I said, guiding her to the floor. I stood in front of her, my hands on the back of her head, hips thrusting in her face. I forced my cock down her throat as her eyes rolled back into her head and her skin became infested with goosebumps. Her arms flailed as she fought for air. She tried to pull away, but I held her tight. She grabbed the backs of my legs and dug her nails in but still I wouldn’t let her go. “No air, only cock.” I was in control. I was the star of the show. I was the king. I was—“FUCK!” I screamed as Candy chomped her teeth, chewing my skin, gnawing at the meat. “WHAT THE FUCK!?” I tried desperately to pull her off, but her jaw was locked. She yanked her head side to side until the flesh started tearing and blood poured from her mouth. “OH, JESUS, FUCK,” I cried as the tendons ripped from my pelvis. Blood sprayed as I screamed and bawled in terror, my cock now fully separated from my body.

Trembling, I dropped to my knees, face to face with Candy. She smiled with my remnants lodged between her teeth, skin hanging from her mouth, blood dripping. She spat out the mangled lump of flesh, giggling as it hit me in the face before plopping to the ground with a squelch. I watched it shrivel and shrink while Candy continued laughing.

I looked towards Phil. He stared back, slack jawed and frozen. He couldn’t believe what he was witnessing, what was being recorded onto the memory cards, the once in a lifetime footage.

“For God’s sake, help me!” I begged, my body cold and face ghostly pale.

“The bitch has gone crazy,” he yelled, broken from his trance and coming to his senses. He dropped the camera to the ground and darted out of the room with panicked adrenaline, knocking over a light stand on his way out, glass shattering and sparks flying.

I fell to the floor, curling up into the fetal position, my breathing shallow, and my vision blurry. Candy stood and slowly walked away. I watched her hips sway in confident strides as she walked toward the discarded camera that was still recording. She picked it up and pointed it at me.

“Chin up, honey,” she said, zooming in to capture my final moments in extreme close-ups, my lips blue and my eyelids fluttering as I slipped into unconsciousness. The camera steadied on my lifeless body.

My eyes suddenly opened, and I sat up. I wasn’t dead. In fact, I had never felt better in my life. I had crossed over, brought one of my visions to life. I was officially a director.

“Cut!” I yelled in triumph. I turned toward Don Keedic, the true cameraman and producer of the shoot”

“How’d it look?”

“Pure pain and suffering.” he said. “Where’d you come up with this?”

“Came to me in a dream,” I said.

“You sick bastard,” he said. “It might be too early to say for sure, but I’ll tell you what, so long as nobody films sticking their whole head up a chick’s pussy, I’d say this is a shoo-in for Most Outrageous Sex Scene.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” I said, getting to my feet. “That’s a wrap, everybody!”

The production assistant, T.J., wheeled in a mop and bucket, handing robes to Candy and I before attending to the sticky puddle of corn syrup and red food dye. Phil and Gia came running back in, laughing and cheering.

“Holy shit,” said Phil. “That was fucking nuts. So, tell me, do I have the makings of a star or what?”

“You’re a natural,” I said.

“It’s easy when you play yourself, eh Phil?” Gia said, teasingly hip checking him as she walked past. She knelt down and picked up my severed penis prop. “And you’re my best work yet, little fella.”

“Hey, now,’ I said, tearing away the rest of the bloody latex covering my crotch. “He had some girth to him when he was all filled up.”

I walked over to Candy and gave her a hug. “Thank you, thank you,” I said. “So, how big of a douchebag was I?”

“I couldn’t wait to bite your dick off,” she said.

“I love it. You were perfect. The heart and soul.”

“Congrats on your debut,” she said.

“Hey,” Phil called. “What’s the name of this fucked up little picture anyway?”

“The Bloody Emancipation of Logan Pierce.”

“The Bloody…what.?”

“Emancipation.”

“That’s uh, a little wordy for porn, don’t you think?”

“It’s a working title,” I said. “Plus, it’s more of a hybrid than anything else.”

“You crazy kids and your art. Well, whatever it is, I’m glad to be a part of it and I’m happy for you.”

“Stop the press,” said Gia. “Phil Holes just admitted he was happy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Don’t go getting used to it.”

“Maybe he’s still got a little life left in him, after all,” I said.

And maybe we all did. Maybe it wasn’t too late for any of us to change.