Two hours later, I was standing in front of the entrance to Vixen Media. Calling it an office was a stretch, it was more like a concrete bunker located in the gutter of the city. The facade was scarred and pitted, looking like it had barely survived a stray mana-bolt from a dungeon break.
A massive black guard, built like a grizzly bear in a tight suit, stood by the door. He looked like he chewed gravel for breakfast and enjoyed it.
"You've been staring long enough, kid," the guard snapped, his voice a low rumble. "Beat it before I bounce you off the pavement."
I didn't flinch. "I'm here for an interview."
"An interview? You?" He looked me up and down, his sneer deepening as he took in my scrawny frame. "What, for the 'Before' pictures in a malnutrition ad?"
"I'm here to see Mr. Schuster," I said, keeping my voice level. "Tell him Duncan is here."
The big guy hesitated, his eyes narrowing. "Schuster works here, yeah. But he's got no business with a boy who looks like he'd break in a stiff breeze. Do you even know what kind of 'media' we produce here, kid?"
"It's an adult agency," I said, leaning back with a confidence that didn't match my new face. "As for my business with Schuster, it's simple. I'm here to become a pornstar."
The guard let out a bark of a laugh, a harsh sound that drew eyes from the street. "You? Acting? Just how old are you, twelve? We don't shoot that sick shit here."
I pulled out my ID and shoved it toward his chest. He snatched it, grumbling, and squinted at the birth date.
"Wait here," he muttered, his tone shifting from aggressive to confused. He disappeared through the heavy metal door, taking my ID with him.
Five minutes crawled by. I leaned against the grimy wall, ignoring the stares of the low-lifes passing by. Finally, the door creaked open. The guard stepped out, his expression unreadable as he handed my ID back.
"Go in," he said, jerking his thumb toward the dark hallway. "Second door on the right. Schuster is expecting you. But kid? If this is a prank, you aren't walking out of here."
"Believe me," I muttered, stepping past him into the dim, neon-lit interior. "I'm the most serious person in this building."
I didn't even make it ten feet before the building's soundtrack kicked in. Wet, rhythmic slapping and high-pitched moans echoing from the far end of the hall. Two women, completely naked and glistening with sweat, stepped out of the first door I passed. They stopped dead, giving me looks that ranged from confusion to pure disgust.
"Is that a fucking kid?" one of them hissed, her eyes trailing over my scrawny frame as they headed down the corridor.
"This place is going to the dogs," the other replied, not even trying to lower her voice. "First we're stuck shooting a scene with an old man who looks like he's one thrust away from a coffin, and now they're bringing in high schoolers? Fuck this."
She threw one last, judgmental glance over her shoulder before they disappeared into another room.
I kept moving, stopping in front of the door labeled Schuster. I gave it a sharp knock, but there was no answer, only a series of muffled, guttural groans coming from the other side.
I didn't have time to play games. I knocked again, harder this time, the metal vibrating under my knuckles.
"Com...Come in!" a strained, loud voice barked from inside.
I reached for the handle, but before I could turn it, the door swung open.
"Wow," I muttered, my professional mask slipping for a split second.
A blonde stood there, her hair a messy halo and her eyes bright with a manic kind of laughter. She was wearing a pair of red high heels and a coat of bright red lipstick. That was it. She was entirely naked.
"People just don't believe in clothes around here, do they?" I said, my voice deadpan as I looked her right in the eye.
"Mr. Schuster! It really is a fucking kid!" she yelled back into the room, ignoring me entirely.
"Let him in, Donna. He's eighteen, he's not a kid," Schuster's voice drifted out, sounding annoyed and distracted.
Donna sized me up, her heavy, natural breasts swaying as she stepped aside to let me pass. She didn't look impressed, but she didn't block my way either.
I walked in, and the scene was exactly what I expected from a bottom-tier agency like Vixen.
Mr. Schuster, a guy in his early fifties with thinning hair and thick glasses, was perched on the edge of a mahogany desk. His pants were pooled around his ankles, and a petite brunette was buried between his legs, her head bobbing with frantic energy.
"Agh! Just like that... watch the teeth! No fucking teeth, Jenny!" Schuster groaned, his hands gripping the girl's hair as he stared at me over her head.
He didn't look like a mogul. He looked like a guy who was barely keeping his head above water, using his own talent to blow off steam. He adjusted his glasses, his eyes boring into mine while Jenny continued to work on him with a wet, slurping sound that filled the small office.
"So," Schuster wheezed, his face reddening as the girl picked up the pace. "You're the one who called. Duncan, right? You've got balls showing up here looking like you just survived a hunger strike."
"Don't let the appearance fool you... Sir," I said, my voice cutting through the wet sounds in the room. I kept my posture relaxed, my eyes locked on his. "I'm everything I described on that CV, and then some."
Schuster didn't answer immediately. He winced, shoving his hand harder into Jenny's hair. "I said no teeth, goddammit! You trying to skin me?"
He swung his gaze back to me, his face flushed and sweating as he groaned through the blowjob. "I don't give a fuck what you wrote in some digital file, kid. In this building, I only care about three things. One: are you good-looking enough to be on camera? You've got the face, I'll give you that. Two: are you muscular enough to look like a lead?"
He let out a derisive snort, gesturing at my frame. "You look like a bundle of twigs. Like a stiff breeze would snap you in half." He looked over at Donna, who had sprawled out on a leather sofa, watching us like she was waiting for her turn at the buffet. "What's the third thing, Donna?"
Donna leaned forward, a predatory grin spreading across her face as her eyes raked over my waistline. "And if your cock is big enough to actually satisfy a girl like me."
"Yes... ugh... exactly," Schuster wheezed, his eyes bulging as Jenny hit her rhythm. "As far as I can see, kid, you're just a pretty face with a hunger-strike body. You're wasting my time."
I didn't say a word. I didn't need to. I looked at Donna, then back at Schuster's skeptical face, and reached for my belt.
I yanked my pants down in one smooth, practiced motion, letting them pool around my ankles.
Schuster froze. The mid-sentence groan died in his throat, and he actually pushed Jenny's head away, his jaw dropping so low I thought it might hit the desk.
Donna rose like she was being pulled by a magnet, walking over until she was standing right in front of me, her naked breasts inches from my chest. She leaned down, her eyes widening as she took in the sheer, impossible scale of what the "twig" was packing.
The room went dead silent, save for the hum of the shitty air conditioner.
"Jesus Christ," Donna whispered, reaching out a trembling finger as if she needed to touch it to make sure it was real. "How big is that thing?"
I looked down at the top of her head, then back at the boss. "Still think I'm wasting your time?"
Schuster shoved Jenny's head away, his face still flushed. "We're done here. Get off. Another time, maybe."
He stood up from the desk, his own dick swaying in the air like he was trying to participate in a competition he'd already lost. He walked over slowly, his eyes glued to my crotch as if he were trying to find the trick, like I was wearing a prosthetic or some shit.
"How big is that thing, kid?" he rasped, the skepticism in his voice finally being strangled by pure envy.
"I don't know. I've never bothered measuring it," I lied, my voice steady. In my old life, I knew my specs down to the millimeter. "You got a tape measure? Or are we just going to guestimate?"
"Jenny, get the tape from the drawer. Now," Schuster barked.
Jenny scrambled over, fishing out a retractable metal tape. She tried to hand it to Schuster, but he jerked his head toward the blonde. "No, give it to Donna. I'm not fucking touching the kid's cock."
Jenny handed it over like she was passing off a live grenade. The second Donna's cold fingers brushed against me to get the measurement, my dick gave a heavy, involuntary twitch.
"Easy there, tiger," Donna purred, her eyes darkening as she gripped me. "I'm not about to give you a handjob... yet."
She pulled the tape tight, her tongue poking out the corner of her mouth in concentration. She stared at the numbers for a long beat, her chest rising and falling.
"God... it's eight inches," Donna announced, her voice breathless. She looked up at me, licking her lips like I was a steak and she hadn't eaten in a month. "And thick. Like, really fucking thick."
I looked over at Schuster, who was trying, and failing, to look unimpressed. "Well?" I asked. "Do I get the job or not?"
Schuster rubbed his chin, his gaze shifting between my face and my equipment. "You've got a pretty face and a monster cock, kid. I'll give you that. But in this industry, a big dick is just a prop if you don't know how to move it. The real question is: can you actually use it?"
I gave him a slow, veteran nod. "I know my way around a scene, sir."
"Jenny, turn on the rig in the corner," Schuster commanded.
Jenny headed for a professional-grade 4K camera mounted on a tripod, the red tally light flickering to life.
"What are you doing?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.
Schuster laughed, a greasy, opportunistic sound. "Shooting an audition, of course. I tell you what, Duncan. If you can satisfy Donna right here, right now, on that rug, and do it for the lens, the contract is yours. Fifty-fifty split on the first three scenes."
"What? Right now?" I asked, playing the part of the surprised rookie.
Schuster raised an eyebrow, a mocking glint in his eyes. "You scared? If you can't perform under pressure, you're in the wrong building."
I looked at Donna. She wasn't looking at my face anymore; she was staring at my cock with a hunger that was borderline feral. She wanted this. And I needed that System objective cleared.
"So, what do you say, kid?" Schuster challenged. "You going to be a star, or you going to go back to the slums and rot?"
"Okay... okay," I said, sounding just reluctant enough to keep up the act. "Let's do it."