Just another dead pornstar. Her parents will mourn the loss, but society won't. People will see a pretty girl saddled with debt, cut down in her prime in a seedy profession, tut and move on. That's the way this business works. Always has.

It’s quiet in the studio, only a faint whine from the LEDs that circle the rows of dials and buttons on the editing console. I stare down at her lifeless body spilling out of the crop top and cutoffs, and finish my mouthful before taking out my phone and dialling.

The operator’s voice is tinny through the speaker: What's your emergency?

There's a wobble to my voice. “Uhhh. Ambulance. But I… I think she's dead.”

Then you'll need police, too. I'll dispatch them. What's the address?

“DeeMark Studios. Knightsbridge.”

Typing. Then: Found it. Stay on the line, please.

I twirl the pen in my hand and make eye contact with Joany. Her return stare, framed by the blonde waves pooling on the Flotex is, of course, lifeless.

( . )( . )

Bonnie
[4 hours earlier]

Joany’s such a pro. Knows to ooh and aah at the right moments to boost a scene. Uses the perfect amount of filthy talk that bosses love and sells well. Plays up to all them dirty men wankin’ away at home to our act.

And it is an act. Everything's an act. But that don't mean I don't enjoy burying my face in her smooth pussy and slashing my tongue from that perfect little asshole up to her needy clit as she spreads for me and grabs my head, clamping me to her dripping cunt.

I'm trapped in her grip, my boobs squashed against the sofa cushion, so I do the only thing I can manage: French kiss her slit. I snake my tongue in and withdraw it coated in her juices.

She's got this unique flavour. Kinda spicy but wrapped in a syrupy sweetness and I moan into her snatch as it tumbles across my tastebuds. The guys love hearing me moan. They tell me in my bio comments. Especially from superfans like p0rnah0L1ck and dark_dom_69. I met him once at an awards ceremony. He said he prefers me to Joany; that she's too fake and I'm a natural. But he prob’ly says that to everyone.

She’s in full movie mode. “Yeah, baby. Lick that pussy, oooh. God yeah, drive your hot tongue inside. FUCK you're gonna make me cum if you keep doing that. You want that?”

I nod and groan yes, the syllable swallowed by her gash and continued monologue.

“Yeah, fuck you're gonna make me squirt. You want that, baby?” She grits her teeth and goes full Travolta. “Want my fuckin’ sweet cum dripping over your cheeks? Yeah. Gonna squirt, gonna squirt, gonna… ohhhh.”

Right on cue, she tenses and releases a burst of liquid against my mouth. I drink her silk-laced cum and swallow. It's not in the script but so what? It's hot. The strokers love a squirter.

Tearing away from her gushing pussy so Leon can film a close-up, I kneel and snake a pair of fingers up inside her, crooking them. She chants, “Yeah, fuck me, fuck me,” and slams her palms against the sofa, arching into my touches. I tug up and towards me. My thumb finds her slippery clit and I rub furiously. Her juicy cunt pumps squirt upon squirt into my palm, splattering my cheerleader top.

I'm dressed as some varsity slut. Pigtails. Rouge. Ridiculous tight white crop top that strangles my boobs, with a huge number 69 embroidered on the back, and a pleated red skirt that barely covers my pantyless cheeks. Greg, the second cameraman, has his lens practically up my asshole.

The premise is that Joany’s come round to my place for some cheerleader practice and after some ‘helping’ we end up kissing and touching. Then move to the couch. The script is a bit more vague than usual, but the sequence of acts we get up to are defined well.

This is part two of three. She's already worshipped my toned body from neck to toes, licked and bitten my nipples, and worked her way down to deliver a shivery orgasm that I only partly had to act. She's fuckin’ good, I'll give her that. Her tongue’s built for porn, and there was nothin’ fake about the intensity of her eye contact thrown from between my legs. It made me seem like I was the only one in the room, and she didn't stop licking until I squeezed my eyes shut and shook.

The final segment is where I get her on all fours, spank her and eat her ass. I'm looking forward to that most. Not because I enjoy spanking—although I do—but because I found out last night that the bitch has slept with my husband.

Well, he ain't admitted it. And it's hearsay from a friend of a friend who saw Joany—I should use her real name, Jess—show up at our house shortly after I went out for a shopping trip.

Denzil was in.

He has a massive cock.

She's a slut.

She left an hour later.

Even someone like me with a 4 in maths can work that one out.

As the final few squirts spray, she grasps her tits that are swinging beneath her matching cheerleader top. It's easy to see why she chose Joany Juggs as her pornstar name. She thumbs her firm nipples nestled in them dark brown areola lakes, and moans, the flesh oozing from beneath her palms.

When she slumps to the sofa, I tenderly lap up the stray droplets that pepper her hairless lips. She smiles down at me. “Oops, I've made a real mess of your dad’s sofa. He'll spank me for sure.”

Off to the left, Mark interrupts with his directorial tone. “Again. You're meant to stroke her cheek. Carry on.”

Joany smiles and reaches down to stroke my wet cheek, doing a dot-to-dot of her juices. “Oops, I've made such a mess on you and your dad’s sofa. He'll spank me for sure.”

I kiss her cunt. “Or I could do it on his behalf.”

“Mmm, but I've been terribly bad. Are you sure you're up to it?”

I stand, pull her up and reposition her, ass upturned, tits crushed into the seat cushion. Placing my palms on her rear, I massage the meaty globes. Spread her naughtiest hole so Leon can get a dirty lens full. While he's there I stoop and lap, circling her star. That'll look awesome on camera. I flick my tongue across her puckered hole and her groans restart. “Oooh yeah, baby.”

“Mmm, you like that? Like me tonguing your naughty asshole?”

“Mm-hmm. Don't stop.”

“Like this?” I hold her apart, spit on her ring and probe my tongue inside. She relaxes to ease my entrance but it's still tight and will send half the strokers to heaven before we even get to the spankin’.

“Yess. Tongue fuck my ass, baby. That's it. Deeper… yeah.”

I haul out. “You're such a naughty girl letting me do this.”

“Ohhh yeah. I'm such a nasty bitch. Is my ass nice and tight?”

“So tight.” I plunge back inside. Start to tongue fuck her and let Leon capture it all. Bless him, he always tries to be on set when Joany is, and acts like a forlorn puppy when she's not around. I get the impression he don't like it when other guys get to film her. He adores her massive tits and curvy ass and, to be fair, he's fuckin’ good at showing them off.

He's not the only one besotted by her. Both he and Mark, and ‘Boomer’ Bonfield who operates the overhead microphone, have all tried to pull her. Probably others. She clearly loves the attention and flirts like mad, but as far as I know she's kept them at arm's length. When I asked if she was gonna sleep with Mark, she stared at me like I'd asked her to suck concrete through a straw. “I'm not fucking my way to the top.” Pretty ironic given our profession, but I couldn't fault her integrity.

Up until last night.

I pull my tongue from her shiny asshole, spit on it again and worm a finger in. She moans. “Yeah. Fuck my dirty hole. I've been such a bad girl.”

“Yes you have.” Forcing it deeper, I breach her inner ring. I'm not gentle. Sliding my free hand up her back, I wrap her blonde mane in my fist and tug her upright so my mouth brushes her ear. “A real fucking dirt bag.” Tightening my grip and burying my finger to the final knuckle in her ass, I whisper, quiet enough so Boomer don't pick it up, “I know about you and Denzil. You're gonna fuckin’ pay, bitch.”

She stiffens, uncharacteristically for her. An admission of guilt, I'm sure, and she gasps when I yank my finger free and deliver a vicious slap to her bouncing butt.

Letting go of her hair, I shove her forward into the sofa and unleash a volley of spanks on her upturned ass. Her muffled cries as each one lands are not acted. Leon zooms in on the reddening blush and fingermarks I leave behind and I massage the heat, spreading her for his benefit. He’s packin' considerable wood, I notice.

Despite the pain I must be causing, fresh juice drizzles down her inner thigh. I trail fingertips to collect it and smear the mess up over her glistening asshole. “You fucking slut, getting off on being spanked.” I hit her again.

Both cameramen are occupied with the action so I swivel my attention to Mark and nod at the props table. He steps towards it, selects a stubby, fat metal buttplug with a blue jewel set in its flange and hands it to me. I slip it in my mouth to soak it then offer it to her tightest entrance.

“Daddy might just spank you for messing up our couch but I'm gonna make sure you feel every stroke.”

I work the toy into her ass, watching her ring spread and spread to accommodate its size. It ain’t fuckin’ small and she groans and squirms. I put my hand on her lower back to steady her and worm it deeper. Wider. I know she can take it. I've seen Frank Pylon buried in her ass, and he puts a rounders bat to shame.

A deep groan accompanies her asshole swallowing the toy. It nestles between the bubbles of her cheeks and I only briefly let her adjust before resuming the spanking.

It seems each swat triggers a spasm centred around the jewel. She jerks with each one and cries into the cushion. “Ohh fuck. Fuuuck. Punish me. I'm so baaad.”

Bitch got that right. The blush on her butt deepens as I increase the intensity and rhythm. Leon and Greg capture every moment with their hand-held cameras, including when I shove two fingers inside her, rock my thumb on the buttplug and she cums.

My anger is channelled through my fingers deep in her pulsing pussy, but all the rough play seems to do is make her enjoy it more. It pisses me off, but I have to get through the scene so I grit my teeth and play along. “Yeah. That's it, baby. Cum hard for me.”

“Ohhh, fuck yes. Right there. Cumming for you. Yeaahh.”

She lets out a little scream when I yank free and slap her bum again. I step back and let her slump to the couch, wriggling and moaning as her contractions rage, cunt dripping onto the fabric, ass glowing pink. A small victory but I'm not done with her. Not by a long shot.

( . )( . )

Detective Lisa Mallory

Even fifty cases in, the CSI flash bulbs still sting my eyes. I walk around the vic a couple of times, pulling disposable gloves on before taking out my dictaphone and flicking it to Record.

“Victim is an early twenties female porn star. Preliminary crime scene notes indicate a few possible causes of death.” I crouch, trouser suit stretching, and turn over one of her hands. “She has powder residue under her nails, hugely dilated pupils and,” I reach out and part her ruby painted lips, “a swollen tongue, possibly due to an adverse drug reaction.”

I close her mouth and trace my fingers to her neck. “Abrasions around her throat, pattern consistent with fingermarks. Nothing further on cursory examina… hold on, what's this?” I gingerly roll her a little so I can see her leg in the overhead light. “Puncture needle wound on her outer thigh.”

I let go and click off the recorder. “Hmmm, quite the conundrum aren't you, Miss Juggs?”

“A real enigma.”

I look up towards the source of the voice. It's Mark, the studio owner in the doorway. Scrawny, yet chiselled, with an aloof air about him. He shakes his mop of black hair. “Such a loss. She was one of our rising stars.”

Standing and removing the gloves, I pocket them. “And not the first rising star on your roster to die.”

He sighs. “Business is bad enough without getting the reputation of being the studio where pornstars end their careers.”

I arch my brow. “I thought there was serious cash in porn? I mean, judging by its popularity.”

He runs his hand through his hair and it springs back to shape. “Used to be. Online places like Pornhub are destroying us. Models sign up directly and film themselves on their phones. Keyword-stuff each video title with ridiculous step-sister this, daddy that terms and gain a huge following. Cuts us out completely.”

“That's just business. Someone will always find a way to do something cheaper and better to fill a market. The winners are those that adapt.”

He's quick on the rebuttal. “We’ve adapted. We licence some of our scenes and teasers to them on their free service, and hope the wankers subscribe to our channel for more. And I mean wankers with the utmost of respect. They're our lifeblood. Beyond the actors.”

“Do you license Miss Juggs?”

He prickles. “No. Not yet. We were… negotiating. She was very headstrong and opinionated.” His shoulders slump a fraction. “We usually get the most we can out of direct sales on our own sites before pandering to bloodsucking vermin like Pornhub and Xhamster.”

“So you cut deals with each actor separately?”

He nods and rubs his nose. “Some think we're holding back from their earning potential. But I've seen it countless times. If we sell out too soon before we've established an identity, they get lost in the sea of also-rans. Thousands of wannabes all vying for a slice of easy street.” His gaze shifts from me to her, then back to me. “Tell me, Miss Mallory, do you believe in equality between sexes?”

I blink. “Of course.”

“So do we. We're the only studio that pays our male actors the same as females. You know what the earning differential for a top-tier porn star is in the industry?”

“Not a clue.”

“Women earn almost three times the men. But I don't see Men’s Lib groups up in arms about it or lobbying governments for equal pay terms.”

“Fair point. Your policy must hit the bottom line hard, though. And make it difficult to attract talent if they can earn more elsewhere.”

“You're telling me. Our rates are lower but we're ethical—”

I snort. “Ethical porn? Now I've heard it all.”

“Don't knock it. Our models are in it for the long term.”

“Most of them.” I nod at Joany on the floor.

He ignores the quip. “I find it telling that almost all the self-starters run their own Fansly or Onlyfans sites and put premium content there because Pornhub pay peanuts based on ad revenue. We nurture our talent first. Use the studio name as a springboard of quality before opening the floodgates. It doesn't pay to be overeager.”

“I see. And was Miss Juggs overeager?”

A rueful smile forms. “She was driven, that's for sure. And it's no secret she needed the money.”

“What about,” I flip through my notebook. Some habits are hard to break even in the digital age. “Larissa? Was she overeager too?”

He narrows his eyes. “I hope you're not insinuating I bump off my best talent, Miss Mallory.”

I eye him a while before replying. “It's not our job to insinuate anything without facts to back them up. But it's fair to say you haven't done badly out of her death. Sales of her content are up, yes?”

His breath stutters. “So-so. There has been a temporary upswing, certainly. But it won't last.”

I meet his stare. “Thank you for the information. We've got a lot of work to do so we'll be in touch with further questions when we know more.”

“Of course. Always happy to help.”

He turns and walks away and I revert my attention to the busty girl who, even in recent death, conveys radiance and vivaciousness. She looks bubbly and fun. Easy to see why she was popular, even beyond her sizeable breasts that are probably the largest natural set I've ever seen on anybody.

Flicking my notebook back to the latest page on which I've been jotting and drawing lines connecting people I need to interview, I scribble my thoughts on Mark and snap it shut.

( . )( . )

Rod
[3 hours earlier]

She's all woman, standing defiant, naked, hands on hips, to one side of the set. Those deep brown eyes stare me down. “You know I don't do drugs, and if you knew me at all, you wouldn't even ask.”

“Seriously, like you've never tried it?” She shakes her head when I brandish the baggie. “Like, not even weed?” Another shake. “Man. You don't know what you're missing.”

“I, like, think I do. Like.”

I lift an eyebrow and ignore her pisstake. “What we do. This.” I wave at the office scene we’re about to resume. “Don't you ever get bored of, li… faking orgasms?”

“No. Do you?”

“Har har.” I pull my cock from the jaws of the hot blonde fluffer kneeling between us. Stroke her saliva along the length and feed it back to her, all the way into her throat. Molly’s my favourite. Such a hot little bitch. I’m looking forward to sharing some coke with her in the changing rooms later and fucking her against the lockers while she screams for more of Rod Thunder in her tight twat and tighter ass.

“Why do you need that shit anyway?”

“It's not a need—”

“Says the addict.”

I pull a face. “It makes the orgasms, like, so much sweeter. More intense, y’know?”

“Mine are pretty intense already.”

“But how do you know it won't be better, like chemically enhanced?”

She stares at me. Huffs. “Fine. If I try it, will you shut up liking stuff?”

Holding out her hand, I smile and hand over the packet. Before I can react, the bitch pierces it and rips it in two. Sprinkles the contents over Molly’s back and the floor. I'm livid.

“What the fuck?! That shit’s expensive.”

“Mmm. Maybe if you can hold out longer than five minutes before shooting your load, you might get overtime one day.”

“Fuck off.”

She makes the ‘rock’ fist with index and pinky fingers extended. “Cowabunga, dude. How's little Roddy doing down there?” She tilts her head to watch me sliding in and out of Molly’s throat. It's a spirited blowjob; she takes her job seriously. “Reckon Captain Thunder can make it through the shoot without his jungle powder?”

From behind me, Mark calls out, “Come on people. This scene isn't going to fuck itself.”

She winks. Yeah, the bitch has the audacity to wink before she breezes past me, sways onto the set and takes up position against the bookcase, palms on the books, ass jutting. She gives it a playful wiggle.

I pull my spit-soaked cock from Molly. “Thanks, babe. We’ll finish this later, ’kay?”

She nods eagerly from all-fours—at least someone appreciates The Rod—and stares wide-eyed up at me, wiping her mouth. “Someone should kill that slag. Do the world a favour.”

I focus on the stray powder peppering her back. “Yeah. They should. Hold still.” Bending over and holding my blonde locks out of the way, I snort what I can from her skin, shake my head then saunter on set and put my hands on Joany’s ass. Mark calls, “Action,” and I grip it, picking up where we left off before my untimely eruption.

To be fair, she was pushing it with her loaded glances and wanton need that gets all the punters hot and bothered. The way she ground her tight pussy on me and begged over her shoulder for it harder got to me and I, like, lost it. Well this time, she's gonna get it. Fierce style.

I'm still raging about the coke and I grab her hair. Yank her against me and snarl, “You want it?”

“Yeah. Give it to me.”

“Filthy slut. You want it hard, doncha?”

She wiggles her rump again. “Harder the better.”

I rest the tip of my cock at her entrance. Tug her hair to twist her head so we can make eye contact and recite the script. “Look at me. I wanna see my cheating slut. Fuck, your boyfriend don't give it to you like this, does he?”

“God no. Fuck me. Own me.”

I spear her and she groans as I fill her tight cunt to the max. One thing The Rod ain't, is small. Her gasps elevate as I wrap her hair tighter and use it as leverage to slam against her hips. “Gonna teach you a lesson, bitch.” And I mean it, like outside of the script. Despite Molly's cocksucking expertise, I'm nowhere near cumming so Joany is gonna get all this rage. The fire in me ignites as the powder takes over.

After a dozen or so savage thrusts, I haul free and pull her by the hair to her knees in front of my dripping meat. She’s not the kind of girl to shy away from a blowjob covered in her own—or anyone else's—juices, so it's no surprise when she opens wide. I'm not sure she expects the force right off the bat though and she gurps as I fill her throat on the first stroke. Her eyes widen and I unleash my fury at her recent stunt, hammering her face, then burying myself deep and holding there until her cheeks redden.

She slaps my upper thigh; the signal for take it easy. But she can fuck off. I hold for longer before pulling free to let her gasp in air. Pinching her cheeks, drool slithers free and lands on the set carpet as she catches her breath. “You like that, bitch? Something you don't get nowhere else, huh? That deadbeat boyfriend of yours ain't man enough for ya is he?”

She shakes her head and wipes her mouth on the back of her hand. “No,” she gasps, makeup streaked. There's a fire burning behind her eyes somewhere. Like pushing her boundaries got her all juiced up. “I love the way you use me.” Her breath stutters before the next line. “Daddy shouldn't have hired such a stud for a gardener.”

“Yeah. Does my precious slut want more?”

Joany wraps her hand around my girth and wanks me, the filthy shlicking captured visually and audibly by Leon and Boomer. Leon in particular is open-mouthed at her depravity. I'd expect him to be, like, used to her ways by now since he's been sniffing around her for ages. Mind you, they all have. She's easy on the eye and a total dirtbag on set. Especially when she's in the hardcore zone like now, alternating wanking my shaft with noisily sucking the head and popping back off. “Gimme more.” She gazes up at me. “Much more.”

I put my hands on the back of her head, line up with her mouth and ram inside. She gags, coughs, spit flying to web in my pubes, and I set up a furious face fuck. She takes it all, every stroke bottoming out in her throat, making the horniest, dirtiest sounds in the quiet studio set.

Joany’s made for porn. She has so few limits, and those she does have she’ll push to breaking point anyway. I don't care if it's an act or she genuinely gets off during her performances; it's likely a bit of both. She always brings her ‘A’ game and that’s why everyone loves her work, even though she can be a vindictive and manipulative bitch off-cam.

Maybe it's complacency. As her status and number of AVN awards skyrocket, she's become more and more of a diva. Toys with people. Flirts with them. Fucks who she wants and teases the others. It's gotta backfire one day. Like, I sure as hell wanna hurt her bad.

I tear my wet dick from her mouth and replace it with three fingers, making her retch. Pull out and grab her neck, lifting her and spinning her away from me so she slams her palms against the office bookcase again.

Snaking one hand between her legs, I rub. “Fuck, you're soaked.”

“Yeah. Love the way you treat me. Wish my husband had a—”

Mark barks from the sidelines. “Boyfriend! Do it again. From the chokehold.”

She salutes, gets on her knees and lets Leon move the camera back to where he was. I tug her up and turn her again. Rub. “Fuck, you're soaked.”

“Yeah. Love the way you treat me. Wish my boyfriend had a spine and fucked me like you do.”

“Like this?”

I align with her hole and drive inside. “Ohhh, fuck yes. Take me.” I slam in and out, her cries pinging off the books in all directions. She grits her teeth. “Fuck yes. Your dick is so big.”

My hands gravitate to her chunky hips above her rippling bubble butt and I pick up the pace. Spreading her cheeks, I spit on her star and worm my thumb in. Feel my hardness raking back and forth in her adjacent hole, our hips slapping together with such force we dislodge some books. They rain from the shelf, and smack her on the head.

Mark strides onto the set and strokes her cheek. “Shit, are you okay?”

She waves him off. “Fine. Surprised more than anything. Let's get these picked up before Roddy boy gets a flop-on.”

Cheeky bitch. Mark picks up a few books and replaces them as Joany crooks her finger towards Molly and points at the floor. She approaches and if looks could kill… wow.

Molly starts putting a few away. Scowls at Joany. “You're not the boss of the universe, y'know.”

“Don't worry, chickadee.” She chuckles. “You'll get your turn with The Rod later. But I guarantee I'm a better lay. More to grab hold of.” She wiggles her hips and I flex inside her tight snatch as Mark stretches up to replace the last of the books.

He catches my eye. “Take your thumb out of her ass.”

“I thought it was natural. Better.”

“No. We're saving anal for a later scene. I don't want to lose the impact.”

I tut and comply. Return my hands to her soft hips.

Mark nods. Strokes Joany's mane and uses the excuse of resetting the scene as a way to brush his fingers all the way down her back. She throws him a strange look, like he’s not welcome, but lets him leave his hand on her as he checks this and that about the set. “Okay, people. You still rolling, Leon?”

“Always.”

“Good.” He and Molly leave the area. “Aaand… action.”

I've lost a little of my stiffness but it soon returns as I batter Jess’ slick cunt and her throaty moans surface. “Ohh, fuck me, baby. Yeah. Fuck my dirty, cheating pussy.”

Sliding my hands up and round to her front, I grab her swinging tits. Pull her upright and towards me so her arms flail to the sides. Fuck, such soft, doughy flesh; way more than a handful and she spills from my grip as I massage them and pinch her nipples. She groans and eggs me on. “Mm-hmm. You like my big titties doncha? Yeah I love when you squeeze and pinch and, aaahh, twist yess.” When she tips her head back, that cascade of blonde dusts the muscles rippling across my bicep and shoulder. “Want to slap them? I love having my titties spanked.”

This is new. Her pushing boundaries again. But, like, I ain't the type of person to question a girl in the heat of the moment. I let go and they sway with the pounding I'm giving her. Drawing one hand out to the side, I launch it at her breast and the slap echoes across the set.

“Oh FUCK that stings sooo good. Fuck. Fuck.” She breathes in and grits her teeth. “Again.”

I use the other hand on the other breast. Harder, and she howls. “Yesss, fuck. Keep that up and imma cum all over your huge dick.”

Well, if she wants to push boundaries, so will I. A little more payback for the drugs.

She places her palms on the bookcase again and uses it to shove herself back and forth on my hardness. Her tits swing and I set up a rhythm, spanking one then clutching it tight, letting go and striking the other. She's going to be marked in the morning for sure. Her ass is already pink from an earlier scene with Caroline. I caught the end of it—some cheerleader movie I'm not in—when I locked up my bike.

Her moans get closer together under my barrage of vicious tit slaps, and she starts to chant, “Gonna cum, gonna cum,” until she does, her body stiffening against mine. Her cunt pulses around my cock and I lose it, my groans joining hers as I fire spunk deep inside her, both hands crushing her tits to her chest.

Leon zooms in on the action between her legs and I know he's waiting for me to pull out so he can capture the mess. When he nods, I withdraw, my cock spotted with her cream and mine. She tenses her muscles and allows a glob of white to form and pool at her entrance before it oozes free, dribbling down her thigh, committed to film and, like, guaranteed to finish off every guy who subscribes to her channel.

She slithers fingers between her splotched folds and spreads them to let more dribble free. Coats her fingertips and dips them inside, pulling them out all dripping with spunk. Lifting them to her mouth, she cleans them with mmms of delight for Greg and Boomer to capture as Leon continues filming her distended snatch until Mark calls, “Cut.”

We clean up among a flurry of activity from people pushing props around to prepare for the next scene. Jess steps in and strokes my dangling dick. “Thanks for the ride, Roddy boy. Always a pleasure. Enjoy Little Miss Sugarflaps and I'll see you around. Peace out, dude.”

She bounces away to the dressing rooms and more than one pair of eyes watch her leave; not all of them, I notice, with admiration.

Yeah, join the queue of people who want to bring her down a few pegs. Join the fucking queue.

( . )( . )

Detective Lisa Mallory

The junior detective assigned to shadow my case is a little too eager for comfort. She’s all giddy smiles and bubbly excitement as she surveys the scene, photographing and annotating evidence like a proper little assistant on the department issue iPad. Ironic her surname’s Watson.

“So who do you think did it?” Her eyes saucer as she frames a coffee mug with lipstick on the rim, then meticulously seals it in a Ziploc bag. “There are so many people we've interviewed who didn't like her, I'm surprised she's lasted this long.”

I exhale. “People lie. Rather than use conjecture and hearsay, we should let the evidence lead us.”

Katie turns her perfect hair and perfect figure towards the editing console and scrutinises it for, well, I don't know what she’s expecting to find. Hair follicles? Semen? A misplaced speck of dust? “Yeah, I get that. But there's more to it. Everything paints a picture beyond method, motive, and opportunity. When there are so many possibilities, we need to listen to what the people say, too.”

I scratch my temple and hook a stray lock of early-greying hair behind my ear. I'm not even forty. How can I be going grey? “Up to a point. But to get a confession where people reveal the chink in their story, we need to prepare a scenario of how we think it went down. Jump one step ahead after being behind. And that comes from the evidence.”

“S’pose.” She swishes her long plaited ponytail and moves away from the console.

“Speaking of evidence. Have you checked the bins yet?”

She pauses and her cheeks colour. “Erm, not yet. I guess I should.”

I nod. Wet behind the ears, kiddo. Wet behind the ears.

Crossing to the wastepaper basket, she peeps in. Carefully rummages. “Nothing much here. Whoever works in this room likes snacks. Five packets of crisps. Bag of nuts. Three chocolate wrappers and, ewww, a couple of used johnnies and their foils.”

I smile. “See? There's gold in rubbish. It's not just about MMO when there's sex and desire involved. Bag those condoms and get them to the lab. We might get lucky and find who's been fucking who after hours.”

( . )( . )

Willie
[2 hours earlier]

Of all the people I like working with, Joany’s up there. On set, she's all business. Works hard and delivers results; the awards speak for themselves. Off set, she's playful. Sassy. Headstrong. And, I found out yesterday, desperate.

We were in the editing suite chomping chocolate bars and reviewing some takes with Mark. It was a scene from Busty Blondes Bonk Best 4, and we were debating if the shot with her flicking her hair back and demanding I fill her slutty ass was better than the one of her dipping her head to the mattress, gritting her teeth and delivering the line. I preferred head down, she preferred head up. Mark, as always, chose her shot for the final edit.

I can't make out if they have history or not. I'm pretty sure she's sucked Leon's cock because he’s fawned over her forever and she likely took pity on him, but Mark is real possessive; probably because she's the brightest cash cow in the studio and he has eye dollars. Every video of hers leaves existing subscribers salivating for the next, and earns her new fans. She's a self-fuelled marketing dream. The only thing that will outstrip current sales is her death, and she's heading the right direction for that. A real fucking diva sometimes, and she gets people's back up.

When Mark left, he tossed his wrapper in the bin and the keys onto the table and told us to lock up. Joany finished her Dairy Milk and rifled through her bag for her phone. Checked her messages, the blueish tint of the screen illuminating her dimpled cheeks framed by blonde bangs.

She looked up. “Do you prefer fucking me or Caroline?”

“What kind of question is that? She's my wife.”

She shrugged. “I wanna kill tomorrow’s scene with you. I watched you and her in Anal Addiction and there was… something in there I need to match.”

"See above comment."

"Yeah, but beyond the obvious chemistry."

I ran my hand over my shaved head. “Pssh, I dunno. Depends.”

“On?’

“The scene. The act. Whether you do that sexy little pout. Any combination.”

She hopped off the desk and strolled over. “This sexy little pout?”

I growled. “Yeah. That one.”

Closing the distance, she traced a single fingertip up my thigh. Up. Until it scuffed my balls and twitching meat beneath. “Mmm, you're right. It does have an effect.” She scratched at my jeans. Brought her other hand up and undid my belt.

“Jess…”

She didn't stop. I didn't stop her. Opening my fly, she pulled out my semi. Sank to her knees and licked from balls to tip. Eye contact the entire time. And still maintained it as her silky mouth enveloped my glans. Then shaft. And she didn't stop until she was three-quarters of the way down and I nudged her throat.

Her eyes watered and I hardened. When she withdrew, my dick shone in the ceiling sunken spotlights and she slithered her hand up and down its length. I cursed. “Fuck, you're good.”

“Mm-hmm. The best.”

She opened her mouth, locked those liquid brown irises on mine, angled my shaft at her lips and engulfed every inch. Fuck knows how. So few can take all of me. Only when her nose brushed my pubes did she blink as I cut off her air. “Ohhh you like that doncha? Love the taste of my big black dick.” I know she likes when I refer to it that way. Gritting my teeth, I grasped her head, jamming myself against her face. “Fffuck, you filthy slut. Take it… fuck you're good.”

I held her, moaning and spluttering around me, then let her up for air. She gasped, eyes wide with desire as she wanked me some more, so fucking hard in her grip.

When she’d recovered a little, she panted, “Better than Caroline.” It wasn't a question. It was a statement that she capped off with, “God I love your dick.”

It would be the perfect performance if the cameras had been rolling. With her, it was always difficult to tell if she meant it or was acting. We'd fucked around after hours before.

“Keep that up, I'll nut all over your face.”

She sped up her actions. “Mmm you'd like that huh? Splatter your hot cum across my lips and tongue.”

“Yeah. Fuck, baby. Suck it again.”

Plunging onto me, she bottomed out a second time, rocking her cheeks against me as I gripped her hair and face fucked her like she didn't matter. I hauled out, grabbed my cock and slapped it against her lips, growling, “Fuck yeah. Gonna cum.”

I tossed myself fast, dick soaked with spit and she stuck out her tongue. Cupped her colossal jugs too and pinched the caps through her T-shirt as she alternated eyeing me and the head of my primed cock.

With a loud groan, I erupted, slashing her tongue and cheek with lines of spunk. She blinked as one shot striped her face and the next arced to dangle from her fringe. “Mmmm. Gimme your cum. All of it.”

I hissed, “Filthy slut,” and squeezed the remaining droplets onto her tongue for her to hungrily swallow.

She made a show of it. Smacked her lips and stood. “That'll give you something to think about tonight. And you know what else will?” Shaking my head, I just shrugged. “Who you're gonna let fuck your ass first in jail.”

I went cold. “What?”

How could she know?

“Don't act dumb, Denzil. You're one of the smart ones round here. Well, until… y’know.”

My mind raced. Should I call her bluff? I studied her. Stared, searching for some kind of signal that gave away how much she knew.

Nada.

“W… what do you want?”

She tipped her head and started wiping up my cum with a fingertip. “Use your imagination. You know what I owe.”

I exhaled. “Jee-zus. I don't have that kind of wedge.”

She shrugged. “I’m out now. Learned my lesson. But I got rent due and a loan shark with a twitchy knuckle duster who wants to damage this face.” She pointed at her chin, wiped it then dropped the loaded fingertip to my withering cock and trailed up its length. “You wouldn't want me all smashed up now, would you?”

“Can't you…” I give her a once-over, toes to tits, “pay in a different way?”

She rolled her eyes. “Don't you think I've tried that? He’s not interested unless it has the king’s face on it.”

“So wear a mask.”

“I’m serious. One anonymous tipoff and I can implicate both you and your brother.”

“God no. Leave Omar out of this. He's a family man. Not like us.”

She scooped a third line of spunk off her cheek. “That's up to you.” As she wiped it along my dick, she added. “Does, uhhh, this run in the family?”

“Jess…”

“Just putting it out there. If you wanna reduce the payments, we could have some… additional fun and he could front the rest.”

“Fuck.”

She licked her lips. “It won't be forever. Just until I show Vlad I'm good for the repayments. Then I'll magically forget what I know. I'm up against the wall here, and not in a good way.”

“Please, Jess. Don't do this. There's gotta be another way out.”

Her stare softened. “I'm negotiating a better deal with Mark and the execs. That’ll help, when they agree. But it doesn't cover it all.”

I tucked myself away. “And Mark’s okay with that? He's not the negotiating type.”

She just smiled. “Let me worry about Mark. I’m too good for business for him to say no. So, you hold your end up and your secret stays that way. Okay?” Then: “Denzil, okay?”

“Fine yeah. Whatever. I'll talk with Omar tonight.”

And I did.

He told me to—and I quote—fuck that bitch. I presume he meant metaphorically, since I'd already done that physically.

“But she knows.”

“How do you know that?”

“It shows in her eyes.”

Omar rolled his. “She's an ac-tor. That's what they do.”

“I thought about that. She's good but she's not that good. There's something there.”

He nursed his shot glass that cast speckles onto the ceiling from the crackling fire and leaned forward. The kids were in bed and Sandy was working late, but he kept his voice low. “We were careful.”

“Yes, we were. But who else knew?”

“Nobody.”

“Sure? What about your contact? The guy who got us—” I mimed cocking a gun.

“Wes is solid.”

“Then who?”

“Nobody. She's playing you.”

I huffed out air. “Nah. She knew to come to me. It was specific. And she named you too.”

Omar sank a finger of bourbon. Gulped. “Maybe Larissa? Before you, y’know.” It was his turn to mime the gun.

I thought a moment. “Yeah. She was shrewd. Maybe Jess was her insurance policy. Left her one of those ‘if you read this I'm already dead’ things?”

“Could be. Doesn't explain why now, though. She's had weeks.”

“True.”

We sat in silence a while, just the crackling heat sparking from the fire. I put my glass down. “We did the right thing, didn't we?”

Omar fixed me with a stare. “No. We did the wrong thing for the right reasons. She had to go or we were both fucked. Bitch wouldn't back down, remember?”

I nodded. Swallowed. “So what do we do with Jess? Can't exactly do the same thing. Two murders in one studio is suspicious as all hell.”

“Agreed.” He cast his gaze around the room as if the answer was written on the walls. Centred me with a stare. “We need to make it look natural.” He put his glass down. “What do you know about Botox?”

And so the plan was set. Sometime later when she's least expecting it, I'll inject a small but deadly syringe of Botox into her. I have it in my bag. Omar knows a guy who knows a gal who's a beautician and had it in larger quantities than normal usage.

Ironically, knowing I'm the last person who's ever going to fuck her makes our scene something electric. That spark she was after. As soon as Mark got us on set with his usual this scene isn't going to fuck itself line, she tosses me that pout, wiggles her rump and we’re away.

I climb on the bed, slap her upturned white ass, peel her cheeks apart and spit on her asshole before offering my hardness to it. She groans as I begin to breach her outer ring and I slap her butt again. “Ooh yeah. Baby likes my big black dick in her ass, huh?”

“Mmm-hmm. God you're so much bigger than my boyfriend. And he won't even take my ass. I reserve that for you.”

She gasps as I ease deeper, splitting her bum. When I nudge her inner ring I'm only halfway inside. I let another trail of spit dangle from my lips and it falls away to pool around my disappearing shaft. “Yeah, you gonna take it all, aincha?” Joany bites her lip and nods a moment before I slam the full weight of my body up against hers and sink fully, growling, “Fuckin’ slut. Take it all.”

I don't give her time to adjust before I'm pulling out and gliding back in again on a fresh wave of saliva. Her ass stretches to accommodate me. Leon, of course, is there to capture every sordid moment. I'm not sure if he hates me more for giving her such pleasure, or her for taking it from someone other than him, but he moves in to film the filthy noises of my cock plundering her butt, then pans around to frame her reactions to it.

“Oh fuck, baby, yeah. You’re so big in my ass. God I love it.” She turns away from the camera to gaze over her shoulder at me and begs with both her eyes and words. “Give me more. Harder.”

How can I resist? I slap her rump with both palms and she squeals when I grab her meaty hips and tug her onto my bone, over and over. Her chanting for more increases and it drives me on. So much that I slither my hands up her body and first grab her swinging tits to haul her upright and then circle my hands around her throat.

She goes crazy bucking against me, and picks up speed the tighter I squeeze, one syllable per thrust. “Oh. Fuck. Yeah. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.’

My fingertips are gonna bruise her throat, but she seems past caring and urges me on. I growl, lock my arms straight and piston into her tightest hole until my climax threatens to surface. “Fuck. I'm gonna cum. Where do you want it?”

She gurgles through her constricted windpipe, “In my ass… fill my slutty... ass with… your spunk.”

Leon makes sure to shoot from her face over her shoulder so he commits both our orgasms to memory card. With a roar, I slam in one last time and hold deep, quaking as I pump her ass full of cum. She's groaning, ring winking around me as she cums too. At some point, she must have buried her fingers in her snatch because she rubs furiously as her body convulses and I catch sight of Greg crouched off the bed beside us, camera trained on the bursts of spray she squirts onto the sheets between our legs.

I gradually loosen my grip and she gasps oxygen. My boner is still a ramrod embedded in her ass and we stay connected as the lingering waves of orgasm fade away. She's given the performance of a lifetime; the perfect end to her career. It's almost a shame she has to die tonight.

Almost.

( . )( . )

Detective Lisa Mallory
[Two days later]

Watson is her usual eager self after invading the sanctity of my office from the hubbub in the main open-plan precinct. She wipes stray sandwich crumbs from her mouth and brandishes the whiteboard pen, studying the web of lines and notes between photos blue-tacked to the board.

“So let me get this straight.” She taps the pen lid to Denzil. “Mr Willie Depths here is married to Bonnie Cummings,” she traces the line to Caroline's snapshot. “Who knew that Jess was boning her man after hours.”

I nod. “Motive.”

“Mark is the studio owner and stands to lose his starlet’s earning potential. But in the short term would gain from the publicity. He was negotiating with Jess who was desperate to pay off her antsy loan shark but wouldn't meet her demands because the studio is brassic. They argued, she stormed off and threatened to quit the studio and work directly with Pornhub and Onlyfans, both of which he hates.”

“Motive.”

She wiggles the pen. “Then we have Rod Thunder, god where do they come up with these shit names?”

“I know, right.”

She taps his photo. “Junkie Jason is furious at Jess for her destroying his drugs and making him feel inadequate in front of his fluffer, who he's banging in the locker room every chance he gets while they snort coke off each other.”

“Motive. And coke delivers a god complex.”

“Yeah. In turn, she hates Jess because of her success and the fact she treats Jason like dirt.”

“Motive.”

“And the wonderfully promiscuous Joany Juggs,” she taps the pen at Jess’ image, “has pretty much fucked everyone. Including the sound guy and both cameramen. Greg takes it in his stride, Boomer is widowed," she strikes through them, "but Leon is smitten, torn with rage that she doesn't take him seriously and bonks everyone else. He wants exclusivity and she won't give it.”

“Motive. But there's one thing missing.” I watch her brow furrow as she casts her gaze between me and the chart, and when she doesn't make the connection I offer it: “Who isn't she fucking?”

Watson flits her attention from person to person on the board. Lands the pen on Mark.

“Exactly.” I lean back and rock the chair from side to side. “The guy who desperately wants her and she refuses to bed because it looks like she hasn't then made it in the business on her own terms.”

“But why? He loses her and the revenue stream. Where's the motive?”

I suck in air through my teeth and shake my head. “Desire can cloud the most rational of minds.”

“Do you think he has it in him to kill?”

“Nope. He's a wimp. Just after money for his precious ethical porn empire.” I scoff. “But I wouldn't put it past him to arrange it.”

Watson circles the pen in the air. What about her?” She taps Larissa. “Two dead porn stars within a month of each other is beyond suspicious. You think he had her killed too?”

I shrug. “Cold case. She had debts. Apparent suicide. No evidence to the contrary and no clear motive besides Denzil who was rumoured to be having regular threesomes with her and his brother. Their other halves didn’t know, but their alibis check out.”

“Who was it? Their mum?”

“Close. Uncle.”

She rolls her eyes and thinks. I can almost hear the cogs whirring. “Could Jess have found something? Maybe she knew the killer and was blackmailing someone, and it was a counter-strike?”

“Maybe. Bit of a stretch, Miss Marple.”

“Oy!" She grins then studies the board again. "Well everyone here had the opportunity. The studio was often a ghost town after hours. So that just leaves the method. I still don't buy your conclusion.”

“It's the only one that fits the tox report." I count off the strikes on my fingertips. "The strangulation marks were from her last scene with Denzil. No drugs in her system. And the puncture wounds were from her EpiPen use. It has to be accidental.”

“The bag of peanuts in the bin? All this intrigue,” she waves the pen at the board and sighs, “and you're saying a bag of fucking nuts killed her?!”

“Peanut allergy can be fatal. Remember Denzil said he offered her the Snickers from the snacks tray in the studio and she turned it down? Chose the Dairy Milk. She was embarrassed by it, kept it low key, but her medical records show she's allergic. Big time.”

Watson huffs, clearly dejected that the seeming murder investigation isn't as juicy an assignment as she hoped. Mumbles. “Fucking nuts.” Then, as an afterthought: “But if she'd got to her pen in time, she'd have been okay?”

“Yeah, but it wasn't in her bag.”

Watson blinks. “Isn't that odd? Not carrying the thing that can save your life. Especially if, well, your life could depend on it.”

“Yeah. We'll know more when we get access to her flat. She might have just left it by mistake.”

“And if not, this investigation turns into something more.” She's animated again all of a sudden. It's kind of cute. Reminds me of me when I started out.

“Yeah. Much more.”

( . )( . )

Mark
[2 hours after Jess’ death]

I sit in the lounge at home overlooking the night city skyline, bottle of whiskey half finished, sweating as I swipe another tear. The glow from the table lamp is the only source in the room and reminds me of her promise. The brightest hope to get me out of the mess. The studio was going under and her talent had offered me a lifeline. But she wanted to leave if I didn't pay her more. To fucking leave after everything I did for her.

If I agreed to her terms, I'd have to put up rates across the board or become just another studio like all the others. No USP. No morality. I couldn't afford either in the short or long term.

In an impossible situation, I was cornered. After all the sweat and work I'd put in to making her, pinning my hopes on her rocketing me out of the pit, and after all the support I offered to build her career, the thanks I get is for her to make demands or walk away?!

Fuck that.

I take a swig from the bottle. It's not just the time and effort I put in. I didn't mean to fall for her but she was endlessly charismatic. Beautiful. Audacious. Filthy. All those people I employed got to fuck her and I didn't. All the times I watched her orgasm, it should have been me sliding my tongue inside her. Eating her out. Making her cum around my cock buried inside her slippery pussy as she chanted my name. It should have been me.

On the coffee table are two documents. I reach forward and pick them up. The first is her CV, photo attached. Fresh faced and eager to make a mark on the adult film world. Well, she achieved that with my help. And she would continue to do so, for as long as I could milk the publicity surrounding her death.

The second document is her application form, filled out in neat cursive. Mainly tick boxes and a waiver. The section towards the end highlighted medical issues, and alongside ‘allergens’ she had written strong risk of peanut anaphylaxis. Nobody else knew.

My blurry vision reads it over and over and another tear escapes as I lean to the coffee table and drop the documents into the bowl on top of her EpiPen. I should have just hidden her bag, but I panicked and took the pen instead. Then couldn't risk returning it in case my prints remained on it. Plus it'd look suspicious if she'd had an attack and not reached it in time.

I fumble in my pocket and shake the box of matches. Light one and watch the flame flare and settle as it burns down towards my fingertips. As it reaches the end of the stick, I drop it and the papers catch, the sudden heat casting red- and orange-tinged shadows across my apartment.

Sitting back, I watch the plastic pen twist and melt among the ashes, and lift the whiskey bottle in a toast. “Goodbye, Jess, my sweet. If I can't have you, nobody can.”