“What do you mean, ‘You came into some extra money,’ Kristin?” I asked. I emphasized her name to let her know I was determined to find out.

“Just what I said, I came into some extra money, Amber,” she replied, emphasizing my name to tell me to back off.

This could have been a simple conversation. The fact that she was being evasive told me far more than her words did.

It began when I noticed new tires on her car. We’re both Juniors in college, and money is tight. I wished I could afford new tires. I also noticed several new pairs of shoes, some new shorts, and several new tops, all within the past week. Her new clothes were in the same style she always wears, so I doubt if many people noticed them, but I did. We’re BFFs, and I knew her wardrobe inside out.

I guess technically she wasn’t lying, but she was being vague, and that was interesting — normally she told me everything. TMI was not a concept she understood. I knew all about her finances, how she and her boyfriend Jeremy practice birth control, what their favorite positions are (his is different from hers), what they do when she’s on her period, everything.

“So what is this-”

“Did you hear that Jessica and Jordan-”

“Don’t change the subject! What is this ‘extra money,’ girl?”

She sighed, and finally said something direct. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“What, did you do something illegal?”

“Um, no. Well, maybe…”

What? Give it up, now you gotta tell me. I’m your best friend — spill!”

“No way. Not gonna happen.” She seemed pretty determined.

I just sat there. Didn’t say a word. Patience personified. Stone silence.

It seemed like it took her forever to cave, although it was probably less than a minute. “Okay, okay, but you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

I nodded. I had an overwhelming urge to bombard her with questions, but one thing I’ve learned about her is, you can’t speed her up, but almost anything will slow her down — so frustrating. I managed — barely — to keep quiet.

“Did you see that ad in the student center two weeks ago?”

“What ad?”

“On the bulletin board. It was only up for a few hours. I’m sure it violated all kinds of university policies.”

“I guess I didn’t see it.”

“It said, ‘Models wanted. Attractive, uninhibited, adventurous. No experience needed.'”

I said, “No wonder the university took it down — it sounds like someone soliciting girls to do porn.”

She didn’t respond. She avoided eye contact.

Even though I knew better, I exploded — I had so many questions I was interrupting myself. “It was for porn, wasn’t i- oh my god, you answered it, didn’t y- did you talk to- what did they want you to- how much money did they offer?”

I regained control of myself. She didn’t say anything — not a word. In the silence, I connected the dots. “Wait, you ‘came into some extra money’ — you freaking did it!

I caught myself, shut up, and waited. And waited. Ol’ stone face. Sound of crickets.

She finally relaxed into a shy grin and nodded. It took all the self-control I had, but I kept quiet. She broke the silence, “I’ve been dying to tell you, but you have to double-dog swear to tell no one, I mean no one. If word gets out and I become known as ‘porn girl’ or ‘video girl,’ I’ll have to transfer to a different school — in a different state.”

I added, “I’m sure you’d also rather that Jeremy didn’t find out.”

She laughed. “Not a problem.”

I was horrified. “He found out? Aw, shit!”

“I told him.”

I couldn’t believe it. “You what? Are you out of your freaking mind?”

“First of all, he’s a guy — he looks at those sites. If he stumbled onto my video and didn’t already know about it, he’d explode.”

“You could tell him you did it before you met him.”

“How would I explain my tat?”

“Oh yeah, that,” I nodded. He paid for a tattoo for her birthday — an eagle in flight, its talons gripping her nipple. Not what I would have chosen…

“More important, before I went and exchanged body fluids with a stranger, I wanted to be sure he was legit — that might be the wrong word… um, I had Jeremy check out the site for me. He told me the guy has over twenty videos of the kind of scene he was asking me to do. Whether that’s legit or not, at least he was who he said he was.”

Every question I asked, every answer she gave, took me closer to out-of-control hot. I tried to make my voice completely neutral. “So, what kind of scenes?”

She grinned. “I know that tone of voice,” she said, “and that facial expression. Don’t you mean,” she squinted at me, “was he cute? How big was his cock? How much did he pay?”

Dammit, she was right. Trying to sound innocent, I asked, “What do you mean?”

She laughed and said, “You want to do it too. You’ve already decided, I can tell. Unless I tell you that it was hell on earth, and he was an aids-infected ogre with Ebola dandruff, port-a-potty breath and toxic-waste sweat — which you can already tell he wasn’t — you’re all in. What you really mean is, ‘How do I get in touch with him?'”

I started to protest, but I realized that all that would do is make it take longer to find out.

“Busted,” I sighed.

She searched in her purse for a minute, found something, and said, “Here’s his card. Look, I think you’ll end up doing it, so I’m not going to tell you anything else. He said it was important not to know what to expect, that the video would turn out better if I was truly surprised each step of the way. Now that I did it, he was right, it was better not to know, because I never had to pretend to be surprised.

“I will tell you this: his name is Ryan, and yes, he is cute. His cock is quite nice, not too large, but definitely not too small. Without going into any details, the shoot was fun. The money is nice, no doubt, but it’s almost a bonus — I had a blast. I’m sure you will too.”

: : : : :

I nearly creamed my panties as we talked. I don’t understand what it is I find so thrilling, so I can’t explain it very well, but it centers on being in a situation where someone else is in complete control. For some reason I’m not able to say no; it’s an unexplained part of the scenario — a given. He is free to do anything he wants, that’s anything, and I allow it whether I want to do it or not.

To him it’s completely impersonal. I’m just a body, tits and ass, pussy and mouth, there for his pleasure. He is not concerned with my pleasure or comfort.

To me it’s extremely personal, to say the least. I fear what I expect he will have me do. But that is overridden by a deep, intense glow in my groin. The thought of being pushed to do extreme new things gets me uncontrollably hot — I can’t explain why, but I’m sitting here thinking about it right now, and my pussy is molten.

I’m fine with a ‘regular,’ typical relationship — meet a guy, feel mutual attraction, indulge some in the courting ritual, bump our bellies together, maybe some doggie or a bit of cowgirl, rinse and repeat. I can — and do — find that super exciting, and I thoroughly enjoy doing things in that ‘conventional’ way. That’s my ‘normal’ side.

My secret side, though, daydreams about being controlled although safe, being benignly dominated if you will, and getting pushed way past my comfort zone. That fantasy gets me aroused in an over-the-top way that ‘business as usual’ doesn’t come close to.

Kristin was right, I had already decided that I would do this.

: : : : :

I emailed Ryan. He promptly emailed back and asked for a head-to-toe selfie. “Nude?” I asked, and he responded, “Not necessary — bikini or underwear is fine.”

When he had confirmed that I looked good enough, he emailed me his phone number and had me call so he could explain the premise. His voice was pleasant and reassuring. “Everything about the video will be real, except one thing — I pretend to be a porn ‘casting agent,’ and you pretend you’re auditioning. You don’t have to play any sort of role for the camera. You’ve never been in a porn video, right?”

“No, I haven’t.”

He said, “Perfect. You won’t have to pretend you’re shooting your first porn vid because you are shooting your first porn vid. If you’re nervous, don’t pretend you’re not, that’s actually good. How I make money is guys subscribe to my site, and they like nervous. It makes them feel like they’re getting an inside glimpse into something secret.”

I asked, “Is there any such thing as an actual ‘porn casting agent’?”

He laughed and said, “I have no idea…”

He continued, “There’s only one little bit of ‘acting’ you have to do, and that is, in real life I’ll pay you, but in the video you and I both pretend you’re auditioning for free. That and use a fake name, for obvious reasons.”

“Speaking of pay…”

“You get $500 if all you do is take off your clothes and let me fondle you, $1,500 if you blow me or fuck me, $2,000 if you blow me and fuck me…”

My mind was swimming in the possibilities. His voice brought me back to the here and now. “…and $3,000 if you also let me fuck your ass.” I’m not an anal girl, but damn, as much as I could use $2,000, I could do even more with $3,000. New tires and clothes for starters.

“I’ll pay you an additional $500 if you rim me, but so far nobody ever has.” I didn’t know what ‘rim’ was. He explained it was licking his asshole. No, more like tongue-fucking his asshole — eewww… Do people really do that?

I asked if he wanted me to actually audition. “No. In the video, we’ve never met, so if we actually haven’t met, neither of us has to pretend. Also, I don’t want you to tell me which of those things you’ll to do. Then neither one of us has to act surprised, because we actually are surprised. Being surprised is like being nervous, ‘the guys’ like the final video better when you obviously don’t expect what’s next. Also, don’t look at my site, or any of the other sites doing this kind of video, for the same reason.

“If you’re ‘in,’ I’ll email you a link to some forms to fill out online. I’m set up for your e-signature, but make sure you sign it everywhere indicated. I also need you to go by a clinic,” which he gave me the name and address of, “for some bloodwork. You don’t need an appointment, and they’ll bill me.”

My evening was open, so I finished the paperwork. It was tedious — I couldn’t believe how many pages there were, and how many times I had to give identical information on slightly different forms. I had blood drawn the following afternoon.

Filling out all those forms made it clear that this was serious, it was real. The more I thought about it, the greater my doubts became. It got to where my inner voice simply said, ‘Don’t do this.’ If I did, I would be having sex for money, right? It was impossible not to feel anxious about that. Wouldn’t that make me a whore?

I needed to talk to Kristin, find out how she felt afterwards. Was she ashamed of herself? Did Jeremy think less of her now?

She wasn’t ashamed. As far as she was concerned, being in a video, even explicit porn, was quite different from being a prostitute. “A whore fucks anybody who pays her money,” she said, “dozens of guys every month. A porn actress maintains her regular relationship except when she’s making a video, then she interacts with a select few who were as carefully screened as she was.

“Things are not only fine with Jeremy,” she continued, “if anything he treats me more special. The sex is definitely better — I’m talking OMG hot. As far as other guys in the future, seriously, any guy who is worth having will be concerned with who you are, not something you did. Any guy who would reject you because you made a video, he isn’t worth having.”

I asked, “What about ruining a possible career?”

“Oh, are you going to be a school teacher?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Something in law enforcement?” No.

“Run for political office?” No.

“I didn’t think so. Me either. I think for those careers it could become a problem, but for anything else, it won’t matter.”

Still, I seriously considered backing out of the whole thing, money or no money. I went to bed that night thinking that no amount of money was worth the scorn of others if they found out, or any possible self-loathing. After I had slept on it, though, I realized that what she said was right, there was nothing to be ashamed of. I decided I would do it. I was so excited I could barely function.

A few days later Ryan called me back and said my paperwork was filed and my blood test was clean. We chose my screen name — I liked the name Crystal, but he redirected me to Louise. He said that old-fashioned names were best, like Louise, Doris, Harriett, Marge, or Gladys. ‘The guys’ liked them better than what he called ‘stripper names’ like Cherry, Crystal, or Bambi. He also recommended that if I was considering doing anal, I might want to ‘loosen up’ by wearing a butt plug as much as possible between now and the shoot. I had to ask him where to get one, if I decided to go that way.

We set up an appointment for Saturday, two days away. I was floating on air — it looked like now I was going to make some extra money, and at least as important, face my sexual inhibitions and live this crazy fantasy. I was so excited, I wondered how I was going to get any sleep between now and then.

: : : : :

The address he gave me was a plain four-story office building in the corner of a suburban shopping center. I took the elevator to the third floor and found the ladies room. I shut myself into a stall, dropped my drawers, and shivering with anticipation, removed the butt plug I had been wearing for two days. It wasn’t the biggest one they had at the adult video store Ryan sent me to, but it was longer and thicker than any live cock I ever had in me. I had pretty much decided not to take the anal money, but if I did I hoped having worn the butt plug would mean I was ready for it.

I found the suite number, reached for the doorknob, and froze. I couldn’t catch my breath, and my heart was beating out of control. My head spun with a mixture of dread, excitement, fear, and arousal. I went to the end of the hall, where a window looked over the parking lot. I leaned my forehead against it, hoping the cool from the glass would soothe my brain. I thought, ‘what the fuck am I doing?’ The reality of where I was, why, and the number of different ways it could go wrong, overwhelmed me.

I could see my car, and I seriously considered returning to its safety and getting the hell out of there. But I thought about the money, I imagined actually overcoming my inhibitions, and I pictured how much Kristin told me she enjoyed what she did. I relaxed a bit, and although my pulse was still racing and my breath was short, my pussy wasn’t going to let me bail out — it felt like it had caught fire. I again pictured things going well, and much of my stage fright evaporated.

I stood up straight and retraced my steps to what still felt a bit like the door of doom. Taking the deepest breath of my life, I gripped and twisted the knob. It was locked.

I knocked, and Ryan answered, pointing a small video camera at me — not what I expected. I looked into the lens and realized I must look pretty freaked out, so I forced a grin.

Kristin was right, he was nice looking. He was not much taller than me, slender, had close-cut brown hair, a dimpled chin, and a welcoming smile. His size and his smile added up to non-threatening, or else I still might have bolted. He said, “Louise?” I nodded. “Hi. Come in.” I felt like a fly being greeted by a spider.

He shut the door behind me and locked it, with an ominously heavy click. I don’t know what I was expecting to see, maybe some sort of elegant movie set with a plush, all-white canopy bed, or a plush New Orleans bordello with red velvet and black suede trim, but at least I thought it would be classy. What was actually there was stark. It looked like the waiting area for a budget lawyer’s office — all that was missing was a cheap coffee table covered with a jumble of last year’s magazines. There was a faux wooden desk for a receptionist and a sofa made of black imitation leather. In addition to the camera he held, three more were mounted on tripods and one sat on the edge of the desk, all pointed at me. They all showed a bright red dot indicating ‘recording’ — I might as well have been on an arena stage.

Several bright industrial-looking lights were mounted on top of poles and pointed at the ceiling or a wall at odd angles, filling the room with bright, shadowless light. I felt dizzy, realizing that all this gear, and the time it took to set up, was to film me and my naked body, while he used my mouth, my pussy, and possibly my asshole for his sexual pleasure. My pussy flooded in nervous anticipation of the excitement to come, if I could keep myself from running, screaming, from the building.

“First,” he said, “a little important business. Are you here of your own free will?”

I nodded.

“I need your answer out loud.”

“Yes.” I faked a smile.

“Good. Now, we need to establish that you’re legal. Would you please get out your driver’s license?” While I dug through my purse, he retrieved a copy of the morning newspaper. “Okay, hold your license here beside today’s date. Cover your name and address with your finger, but not your date of birth or your photo. Okay, good, hold it up beside your face, show it to the camera.” I did. “Okay, you’ve changed your hair a bit, but it’s clearly you. You’re nineteen years and ten months old, good, that makes you legal. You may put that away.”

He took a piece of paper out of one of the desk drawers and placed it and a pen in front of me. “Read as much or as little of this as you like. It’s a release I have all the girls sign. It makes it legal for me to post the finished video on my site. I didn’t include it in the earlier papers so I could record video of you signing it.”

While I read it, he framed my face with the camera he held. When I set it on the desk and signed it, he shot a close-up of my hand.

With that out of the way, he took a seat behind the desk, and gestured that I should stand in front of the sofa opposite it, and we both got back ‘in character.’ All the cameras faced me. “Put your hands on your hips, and turn a slow circle for me.” When I finished turning and faced the camera again, he said, “Very nice.”

He had me take a seat on the couch and zoomed into a close-up of my face. He smiled and said, “So, Louise, why are you here?”

“To audition for video producers.”

“That’s right. Do you understand what kind of producers?”

“Yes, x-rated producers.”

“Why do you want to be in porn?”

I wasn’t expecting that question. I didn’t know how to explain how excited being under someone’s control made me, and I didn’t think I should blatantly admit I was there for the money, so I shrugged. He asked, “Fame?”

I shook my head. “Not really.”


I smiled and nodded. “Yes. Lots of money, I hear.”

“If you do well, yes. You understand that I’m not paying you for this audition, right?” I nodded. “But I will forward the video I shoot today to several producers I represent. If you do well, one or more of them may choose to hire you. Of course I don’t guarantee that. Doing well includes looking good, and so far you’re doing great…” He smiled and I smiled back at the compliment. He continued, “My job is to clearly show them that you’re willing to do certain things, you follow directions well, and you follow them promptly. Every minute wasted during a shoot is money wasted, and wasting money makes video producers extremely cranky. Understand?”