Diana Reynolds—Porn Star

Blaze snapped her fingers. There was a moment of darkness...like the moment of blindness after the lightning strikes, that leaves an echo on your vision...and Lois found herself in a director's chair, facing a set.

It was a mock-up of a temple, a balding fat man with a goatee in a black robe was standing behind an X-shaped altar. On it was strapped a lithe woman with reddish copper hair and impossible tips, skin as smooth and white a cream. Her arms and legs were bound to each arm of the X, and her cunt was a triangle of orange fire against the milky skin of her thighs and belly.

And...there were piercings, through her labia. Rude holes, plugged with rivets. Someone had taken a rough twine and threaded them through the rivets, wrapped them around the top of those pale thighs—spreading the pussy wide open. The woman did not struggle, only laid there, helpless, defenseless...and not alone.

The reporter was suddenly aware of people moving about the set. Camera operators, a woman in a suit, giving directions. A crowd of naked men, a topless woman moving between them with gloves, keeping them erect.

The set went quiet. A young woman with a clapboard called out—"The Defilement of the Virgin, Scene Three!"—and the director gave the signal for action.

In the temple, the man in the black robe exhorted and gesticulated. The victim quivered, turning her face this way and that—and now, in profile, Lois recognized her. Diana Reynolds, barista, literature major. 19 years old. But that Diana did not match the one on the altar. She was slim, petite...

"Never been kissed," Blaze finished, as the first in the line of men stepped forward. A cameraman was positioned over his shoulder, focused on her crotch, the point of contact. "This is what she wanted, this is what she dreamed about. She would tear through a bodice ripper every three days, stream pornography at night...but this is what she wanted to be. Beautiful, sexy..."

"A whore?" Lois was aghast, and spoke too loudly, but nobody seemed to notice, so fixed they were on the scene. The first man had finished and the second moved in. In the moment her cunt was exposed to Lois' view, she noticed there was a trickle of white in the pink triangle now.

"They can't hear us." Blaze spoke at a normal volume. "Can't see us either. An empty chair on a full set. As for her...a whore?" The demon laughed, a light musical thing. "An idol, a star. Diana chooses her own assignments—she has a very good agent—and makes a lot of money. After tonight, she'll be a millionaire. Probably even win an award." The demon's voice was a little wistful as the line shuffled along. "Many women have done far worse for far less."

"And all it cost her was her soul." Lois finished. The man in front of Diana finished, and Lois caught another glimpse of her cunt. The last man had wiped his dick on the porn star's left thigh, a splash of alabaster against the marble skin. The reporter could see that the woman's nipples were taut and erect, her face flushed...Diana was getting off on this.

She wanted this.

Lois felt her own pussy tingle as the next man—fourth, fifth? Took his place, to add his splash to the sodden slit spread before him.

"I've seen enough. Take me to the next one. I want to see..."