Thinking About What Comes Next...

"CUT!" The director breaks the scene loudly. Sam turns to look at him and the crew, suddenly remembering that he is in a very crowded room full of people that just watched him fuck. He saw a lot of bulges and perky nipples, which he took as a good sign.

"We got it one!" The director exclaims walking over and slapping Sam's sweaty back. "You are a stud, my man. Keep this up and you not only have a future in porn when you get out of here, you will already be a huge star."

Sam couldn't help but light up at that. Maybe he didn't need "help," after all. Maybe, he thought, he just needed a way to channel his libido into something productive. He could be the most prolific porn star in history if he put his mind to it.

Then a darker thought occurred to him. "This doesn't seem right," he mumbled to himself. Wasn't he supposed to be going somewhere? Sam had been so caught up in the excitement: Being a pornstar was something of a dream for him so he grabbed the opportunity without thinking about it.

He was trapped in a sex camp maze organized by scientists. He was supposed to be getting out. They had finally figured out a way to get his guard down so they could... test him, I guess? Certainly, the porn project stalled him for several hours--maybe even a day? He realized he'd lost track of time, in addition to forgetting about his previous goal.

As the crew raced around him, cleaning up and getting ready for another scene, Sam slowly stepped to the side and thought about the reality of the situation. Who were all these people? How and why were they in this place? Were these porn scenes really being filmed?

He didn't know, but he knew based on his previous encounters in the maze that he wasn't going to get a straight answer out of anyone on set.

"So listen, Sam," the director said, "Amy told you're a suppppppper busy guy, but we'd love to get you to stick around for another day or two. We've got a couple of movies starting up tomorrow and we'd love to get you involved! Spread that monster swingin' dick around, you know?"

Sam felt himself perk up, then deflate like a balloon. He was living his dream, but he was pretty sure it was a fake dream. He could stay here and keep living it out until Dr. VanderSloot decided it was over and cut him loose, or he could escape the maze and figure out what was happening.

"Hello? Sam?" the director looked at him puzzled, Sam had been lost in thought for longer than he realized. "So what do you say?"