The Birth of a Porn Star: Defying Daddy's Wishes

by Fh John

  “Wait? What? For an audition?”

  “Uh, sweetie. This was good enough to post as is. If you sign the release, I’m authorized to pay you eight hundred bucks for it.”

  “Eight hundred? That’s it?”

  “That’s the going rate for what you did on camera, hon.”

  She looked down at his hand. He was holding a one-page contract with a pen clamped under his thumb. She took it, went to the table, signed it and gave it back to him. He handed her a signed check for the amount he stated. She took it and put it in her purse.

  “Think about what I said, Sarah,” Eric said. He grabbed a business card from the table and handed it to her. “I really think you could end up being one of the biggest names in the business if you wanted to. You’ve got the look and the attitude to make it big down here.”

  “Thanks,” she said, still sounding dazed.

  “I’ll talk to her,” I said.

  “You do that,” Eric said. I started dressing Sarah. At first, she didn’t help much but eventually she started returning to herself and took over.

  Chapter 5

  Afterward

  “I can’t believe you let me do that,” she said when we got back into the car. “You knew! Didn’t you? You tricked me into this!”

  “Sarah I…”

  “Don’t deny it, Jacob. You pretty much said so in there.”

  “I’m not denying it, okay. I’m just saying that you were brilliant. I’ve never seen a better video. Ever. I thought you liked doing it though. I don’t understand why you’re mad.”

  “You don’t understand why I’m mad?” she said in a slow steady voice. Her tone sounded so venomous that I half expected her to shed her skin.

  “Not really,” I said. “Should I?”

  “You just tricked me into fucking three different guys. I took off my clothes and talked to the camera like I was a little whore or something. I am so embarrassed right now, I can barely stand to sit here in my own skin, Jacob. Thanks to you and your damn pornography.”

  “That’s not really fair, Sarah. I admit that I led you here under false pretenses. I did that because you wouldn’t have come here if you knew the truth. I…”

  “You’re damn right I wouldn’t have come!”

  “But you did the rest, Sarah. I didn’t make you say or do any of those things. You could have left any time you wanted.”

  “This is not my fault!”

  “No. It’s not about fault. You were brilliant at this, Sarah. Brilliant. You were born to do this kind of thing, honey.”

  “Don’t you dare call me honey! You just let three guys fuck me. I am not your honey.”

  “No. I let you fuck three guys. I let you do what you wanted to do. If you had said or done anything to lead me to believe you didn’t want to fuck them, I would have stopped it.”

  “So, you think I’m a slut? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “Why are guys allowed to be sluts, but if a girl likes sex, the word slut gets plastered over billboards? Enjoying sex doesn’t make you a bad person.”

  “Well, I sure as hell felt like it when I had a black guy standing in front of me cramming his pecker down my throat. I felt pretty bad, Jacob.”

  2

  We drove in silence for the rest of the way back to the motel. She sat in the passenger seat with her hands folded over her chest. I still had a lot more to say. I wasn’t giving up on my dream just yet, but I thought giving her a little time for things to soak in was a good idea.

  We stopped to grab a bite to eat on the way and by the time we reached the motel, her mood seemed like it was starting to lift a little.

  Our room was on the second floor, overlooking the pool. Just as we were climbing the outside stairs leading up to the walkway, three guys were getting out of the pool that I hadn’t seen before. Sarah kept looking over her shoulder at them. All three of them were athletically sleek black guys. They smiled up at her as we were walking toward our door and she smiled back.

  “We could invite them up if you wanted,” I said.

  “What? Jacob! NO!” she said.

  “It was just a thought,” I said as I twisted the key in the door and pushed it open.

  She stepped inside and sat on the bed. I closed the door and sat next to her.

  “How could you be okay with something like that? How could you watch guys fuck me like that? Don’t you love me?”

  “Of course I love you,” I said.

  “But you just said you wanted to invite three more guys up to my room to fuck me again. What’s going on here?”

  “Just because I like watching guys fuck my girl, doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I think being with a porn star would be kind of sexy.”

  “That’s never going to happen again, Jacob,” she said.

  “So, in other words, if I invited those guys up here, you would behave? You would act like a good little daddy’s girl?”

  “I wouldn’t do anything with them, Jacob. So it would be a waste of your time.”

  “Are you sure,” I teased.

  “Positive,” she said. “I just got carried away earlier, that’s all. It will never happen again.”

  I reached over and grabbed her purse.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Just a test,” I said. I opened her purse and took out her black eyeliner pencil. I brought it to her chest and she grabbed my hand.

  “I just want to try something,” I said. “Just let me do it. If you don’t like it, you can clean it back off.”

  “You promise?” she asked me.

  “I promise.”

  She let go of my hand and I wrote, ‘Black cock slut’ across her neck. She stared down at it, blinking several times quickly. She got up from the bed and walked over to the mirror on the side of the room. She stood there and stared at it for a while.

  “You want me to leave this on when they come in here, don’t you?” she asked.

  “That was the idea, yes,” I said.

  “I don’t think they’d let me be a good girl if they saw this.”

  “I don’t think they would, no.”

  “This would probably make them want to fuck me.”

  “I think it would, yes.”

  “My daddy wouldn’t like that very much. He wouldn’t like you for doing this to me.”

  “You can blame me if you want,” I said.

  “It is all your fault.”

  “It is, Sarah. It is all my fault,” I relented.

  “I guess I probably should do what my boyfriend wants me to do.”

  “You should,” I agreed.

  “You want me to be a porn star, don’t you?”

  “I do,” I said.

  “Can I specify black guys only?”

  “I think that would be a possibility, sure,” I said.

  “Black cock slut,” she said as she traced her finger over the words, smearing some of the letters. “That’s what I am, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, Sarah. From what you said earlier, I think you are.”

  “Daddy wouldn’t like that. He wouldn’t like it at all.” She lowered her gaze on me. She reached down and lifted her skirt, bringing her hands up so she could touch herself.

  “But I am what I am. I think it’s time I quit pretending,” she said.

  “I think it is.”

  “You’ll still love me if I do this?”

  “Of course,” I said. “It’s what I want.”

  “Invite them up here then,” she said. “I was too nervous to cum earlier, so I’m not done yet. Tomorrow, I’ll call the number Eric gave us and my daddy. He won’t like the idea of me moving down here. He’ll pretty much hate you. You know that, right?”

  “I don’t live to please your dad,” I said.

  She sighed and gave me a serious look.

  “I can’t believe I’m really going to do this,” she said. “A porn star? Me? God, this is crazy.” But it wasn’t crazy enough to stop her from fingering herself. “I’m gonna do it, J
acob and if my dad finds out, you have to take all the blame.”

  The End.

  Author’s Note:

  Maybe.

  There is the potential for this story to continue. If the interest in this story is strong enough I’ll continue it.

  All of F H John’s works can be read free under the Kindle Unlimited Program. Take advantage of this wonderful program if you’re a member and if not, sign up today to gain access to all of your favorite works for a low monthly subscription. Visit F H John’s author page here and download them today!

  Excerpt from Career Girls

  Prologue

  Regret? It was too early to know for sure. Fear was more like it. Standing there with my arms stretched into a ‘Y’, my wrists tied, extending my arms to their limits with my naked body out in the open and my legs held apart by a broomstick cut just short enough to fit between my ankles, which were duct taped to either end of the stick.

  What in the hell have I agreed to?

  That was the big question. To be sold.

  “Are you ready?” Petrie asked me. Good old Petrie, our family’s loyal hand, stood before me. His eyes purposefully nailed to mine. I could tell he didn’t want them to be. To the best of my knowledge, Petrie had never seen me naked, but he was a man and I was a young woman, so I knew that the man in him wanted to look. It touched my heart that he tried so hard to let me keep my modesty by averting his eyes from my body.

  “You can look if you want, Petie,” I said to him.

  “Naw, girl. I don’t…”

  “Look,” I demanded. “If anyone in this barn deserves to enjoy the sight of my body, it’s you.” I needed him to look. I don’t consider myself to be a desperate girl, but when you are tied up in a barn, people filing in to look you over like some piece of livestock, their money at the ready; it makes you feel a little vulnerable, a little exposed. The truth was that right at that point, Petrie was the only man I felt like I could fully trust. The only reason he was there was because I asked him to be. Every time he looked in my eyes that day; all I saw was pity. I wanted … no, needed to see some kind of approval from him, even if it was only approval of my body.

  His mustache flared up slightly on one side and the kindness in his eyes flashed to greed for just a moment. Seeing it sent a tickling sensation through my stomach. Petrie never showed that side of himself to me before. Not toward me, anyway. He gave me what I needed him to.

  He looked for almost a minute and then made his eyes look back into mine. “You always were a beautiful girl, Dallas.”

  “Thank you, Petrie,” I said. I almost never called him Petrie even though it was his proper name.

  “They say they want to preview you. Say that’s the proper order of things, before the um … auction.” He was trying hard to hide his sadness, but it bled from his face, like sweat.

  “I have no choice, Petie,” I said, reading what the expression meant. He wanted me to back out.“I wish I could, but this is the only way.”

  “Shi’it, girl. I’d rather see the farm sold off than you.”

  “I’ll be back. It’s only for two months.”

  “Heard that before, Dallas. Women say things and they mean them when they say ‘em, but hearts change. Yours will too.” He said it with such certainty. He was wrong. He had to be. “This ain’t no game of checkers, girl. There’s no winnin’ and the game is rigged against ya.”

  “Blaze won. Bree’s won. My dad’s winning. I guess one of us has to lose.” Me. I have to lose. Sometimes, in a game of chess, the queen must be sacrificed. I didn’t know for sure if I really believed that, but there I was, tied up in Blaze’s stall surrounded by a curtain, which would soon be pulled down. I could hear the buzz of the potential bidders on the other side of it. They sounded eager. I couldn’t blame them, because I would soon belong to one of them. The highest bidder.

  My old friend reached up and put the leather strap with the red ball, over my mouth, securing it around my head. There would be no more talking for me for a while. Petrie turned away from me without looking back. He exited through the stall door.

  What the hell have I done? I thought. The voices on the other side didn’t sound nearly as friendly as I’d hoped.

  CHAPTER 1

  Blaze’s Glory

  Blaze was restless in his stall. It made me wonder if he somehow sensed the coming change. I opened his stall door and stepped carefully in. He whinnied nervously, scuffing the dirt in front of him as if mimicking a bull, dragging straw to him, stomping and nodding his head.

  “I’m sorry boy. I really am. We’ve tried everything we can think of.”

  Blaze responded, turning his head toward me as I brought his brush to his neck. I stroked downward and wrapped my arm around his meaty throat. I so admired his strength, his stubbornness. His muscles rippled along his powerful body and I choked back my tears at the thought of selling him. He was a prize stallion, his golden brown coat shined in the overhead lights of the barn. He was beautiful and he was worth enough money to save the farm. Selling him was our last resort. The farm was our life. It was who we were and even though I hated the chores that came along with it, I loved everything else. I loved Blaze. In the beginning my dad hated him. Probably because the horse was as stubborn as he was.

  It was a proud stubbornness and he showed it more so toward daddy than he did toward Bree and I. My dad was about to sell him after a week of getting nowhere with breaking him. Bree and I tried to convince daddy to give us a shot at breaking him. He said no. Bree and I started working Blaze on the sly, but we made progress. Mostly Bree. My sister showed him no fear. Fear isn’t her style. For a little twerpish girl, she’s as brazen as they come and somehow, I think that impressed the horse. She was such a small girl facing such a large animal, both equally stubborn in their own ways. They faced each other in the coral, Blaze with his hooves maneuvering to keep my sister directly in front of him, my sister with a lasso in hand, ready to show him that she could not only string him with it, but use it as leverage to mount him. She did too. Eventually, that damn stubborn horse finally gave in. Bree broke him the old fashioned way, the humanitarian way, but also the dangerous way, which is why daddy didn’t want us trying it. Once she broke him, he proved his worth. He rode like the wind. Neither of us could believe how fast or graceful he was. We got a good deal on him, but he wasn’t cheap. That was back when money wasn’t so hard to come by.

  I brushed him carefully and I took my time. Normally, Bree took care of Blaze. I loved Blaze as much as I loved any of our animals, but Blaze was Bree’s life. At sixteen, there was nothing more important to her than mounting a saddle onto him and keeping him in shape. Convincing her to let me brush him wasn’t easy, but I begged her until she relented.

  B. J. Moran would be there in the morning to close the deal and take him away. It was my last chance to bond with Blaze and she spent the day riding him. I thought letting me brush him was fair enough. But it wasn’t easy. By the time I was half way through his brushing, my face was soaked with my own tears. Selling him was like selling my own brother.

  By the time I finished, my eyes burned so bad from crying that I could hardly see.

  Petrie was standing near the door waiting respectfully for me to come out. Petrie was daddy’s hired hand. He loved Blaze too, even though you couldn’t catch him admitting it. I was thankful for him giving me private time with Blaze, even though his evening chores weren’t done and he couldn’t leave until they were.

  “Thanks for not interrupting, Petie,” I said through the snot building in my nostrils.

  “No muss, Precious,” he answered and I swore I saw him choking back his own tears. His eyes were redder than normal and his handle-bar mustache seemed wet to me. He wore his black cowboy hat low on his head, so the shadows looming over his face made it hard to tell for sure. “We’ll all miss ‘im.”

  “Don’t you think there’s someone else who could buy him? Anyone!”

  “Sure, if we drop the price to wh
at the other breeders could afford. Moran ain’t a saint. We all know that, but he knows the animal’s worth and he’s willing to be fair about it. Shit. He also knows we wouldn’t sell him for less than his worth anyway.”

  “But he treats his stock like stock. They’re nothing to him, but profit potential.”

  “His ranch, his right,” Petrie sounded off. He dipped down, picked a loose piece of straw from the bale he had ready for Blaze’s stall and stuck it into his mouth. He sucked on it and twirled it around between his lips. He chuckled, which surprised me. I didn’t see what he could find that could be funny.

  “What?”

  “Nothing, Zipper,” he said. He called me Zipper since I was half the size I grew to be, because when I was younger, he said I never did anything but zip my way around the farm. He said I never stopped for a second. It was an exaggeration, I knew, but probably not much of one. He shook his head again. “Naw, nothing, girl. It wadn’t as funny as my mind made it. Forget it.”

  “Tell me. I could use a laugh.”

  “Shit, girl. I cain’t bring myself to even say it. You cain’t bring yourself to sell the animal to him let alone...”

  “Let alone what? Dammit, Petie. If there’s another way out of this.”

  “Ya’self, Dallas, but I don’t mean that. Forgit I said it. Moran would not be kind to you, girl. Not at all.”

  I smacked him on the arm. I couldn’t believe he would even think such a thing. “Petie! That’s gross. He’s a fat old … fucker! He can barely walk.”

  “Yeah, but he’d sell his mom to have ya.”

  “Gross!” I said, making a face at him. “You’re right. You shouldn’t have said it. That didn’t cheer me up.”

  “Warned ya,” he said, which somehow did make me laugh.

  “Gross. It’s going to take me a month to get that image out of my head. Thanks.”

  “Sorry, Precious. Sometimes my brain thinks of shit that should never be thunk.”