Orientation

After downing some pancakes, thoughts and plans for expanding your empire befall your mind. You've already established that you're going to make the world's most glamorous porn biz with all these rich hoes, but you didn't exactly have the studio or equipment and shit to make that happen, not that that would be an issue though. In about an hour, of brainstorming and flipping through channels on your 90-inch 4K television, you send a mass text to all the women currently under your bill. Also, an order of pizza for each of them. You gotta pay them somehow, right? Because you're an awesome guy. Actually, it may have been 125 pizzas....

After some passionate fucking with Sonja, the starlets arrive at your door once again, despite some of them literally making a departure about 3 hours ago. Gathering around your dining room table with them, you happily notice that Avril is still bare-ass naked just like you requested. Score! Once the dust has settled, you begin to speak.

"So girls, first of all, thank you for coming. I really appreciate it. However, the main point at hand is that you all have new jobs and I'm your new boss. Simply put, you're all gonna be porn stars now. I hope there's no issue with that, but I wouldn't give a flying fuck if there was in the first place though. Now this is going to be some dirty, dirty-ass porn. I'm talking gangbangs, DPs, orgies, solo masturbation, mutual masturbation, humiliation, and who knows, maybe I'll get one of you to fuck a horse or something. Haha, I'm just playing. I didn't hire Sarah Jessica Parker. Anyway, another point is that I want you all to continue your current claims to fame, but we're gonna slut it up tenfold. Katy, say you're doing a show tomorrow in Toronto. Maybe you could before bottomless and throw a butt plug up in that ass?"

She nodded with a slowly growing smile. "Yeah, I could do that!"

"Sweet beans! Avril, I already have you naked every waking hour, and fucking your fans for free, but why stop there? Maybe get some backup dancers to finger you on stage?"

"Taking notes as we speak, sir! This is important to me and I don't want to upset my new boss!"

"Good girl! Okay, Emma Watson, and Jennifer Lawrence. Cutting straight to the chase, cut the feminist bullshit. From now, you're sexy pieces of fuckmeat that crave objectification from men. Let's also encourage all our female fans to see themselves the same way, alright?

"Sexy pieces of fuckmeat, I like that!" Jennifer said excitedly. "Maybe I could blow all my interviewers or something too?"

"Hey, you got the idea! Ariana, here's an idea. Let's start a poll for each show that'll determine what you'll be wearing at each show, no matter what the fuck it is. Maybe one night, we'll have a bikini, and the next you'll be a vampire dominatrix. Keep the fans involved right?

"Dylan. You are the smartest son of a gun that I know. Fans first!

"Son of a what was that?"

She paused for a second. "Son of a bitch."

"That's right! Keep up the swearing, girls. Swearing excessively is a sign of being classless whores, which is exactly what we're gonna be! Can I get a 'Hell fucking yeah, nigga?"

In a collectively shout they all belted, "Hell fucking yeah, nigga!"

Hearing Taylor Swift say, "nigga" was definitely a bucket list item you didn't know you had until now.

As the night wore on, and the perverted brainstorm continued, it was time for them to all go home and get some rest for the day after tomorrow. You had decided to give yourself a day to find out what the hell you were doing for a studio and stuff. So what should you do about this?