The Last Queen of Hardcore

I felt nervous as I opened the door.

I did the maths. My only visit to a strip club had been eighteen years previously; a friend's bachelor party.

But here I was, walking into one at 2pm on a bright sunny afternoon.

It took my eyes a minute to adjust to the dim lighting. To my left was a long bar. A swarthy looking guy with a beard and mullet glanced at me suspiciously as he dried glasses. There was banquet style seating in front of the bar, then booths. They ringed a horseshoe shaped stage that jutted onto the floor.

Two girls were dancing on the stage for the couple of mid-afternoon customers. The day shift. The first maybe in her early thirties, frizzy red hair, tattoos. The second an impossibly stacked black girl. My eyes lingered on her as she gyrated. She was gorgeous.

Just then I was spotted.

A blonde head appeared over the top of one of the booths, then disappeared again, before she appeared from the end of the booths and sashayed towards me.

Even in her enormous heels she was surprisingly petite.

She was also possibly the most stunning woman I had ever seen. Her long platinum blonde hair hung loose round her tanned shoulders. Her huge bright blue eyes twinkled with mischief and a warm smile appeared on her full pink lips.

I was trying not to ogle her body; she was wearing an electric blue string bikini that left little to the imagination. Her breasts were huge on her tiny frame, and sat high on her chest. Her stomach was flat and toned with a jewelled navel piercing, and her thighs were thick and firm looking, with a gap at the top.

She looked almost like a caricature of a pornstar.

Ashleigh Moon; the saviour of an industry.

When my editor called me in to discuss the proposed article I was delighted. What guy wouldn't be... "The Last Days of Porn Valley."

The magazine was going with a range of articles. A bit of history, a pictorial (former porn starlets after the industry), a story on the rising digital tide that was sweeping the old industry away (a senior colleague managed trips to both Colombia and Hungary to research this one) and my piece. An interview with the industry's last best hope, who was now standing before me smiling sweetly.

I had done my research.

At only nineteen years old, and a year into her career, Ashleigh had a reputation. Several actually. She was smart. And mouthy. She was notably outspoken for a new female performer. She had effectively destroyed the career of a veteran male performer after she spoke out about him taking liberties on set. Other girls, empowered by her stance, had also spoken out. Now the guy was effectively blacklisted. Most girls of such limited tenure in the industry wouldn't have had the guts to speak out. And they probably wouldn't have had the pull to get something done about it.

But Ashleigh had quickly made herself indispensable.

She was both up for anything and apparently unbreakable. In a year she had gone from playing the innocent college girl, to cum crazed gangbang slut, to an icy female domme. She could do it all. And do all of it convincingly. Her first showcase came after only three months in the industry. Within six months she had her own line of fleshlights, within nine she was the muse of a legendary director and had her own series. Now there was talk of her moving into directing herself.

Perhaps most importantly - she fought for the industry. She didn't have an Onlyfans. She spoke out against amateurish, low quality content. She knew the history. She waxed lyrical about the high quality studio produced Gonzo movies that had been her sexual awakening. She talked about them evangelically. Like they were an art form.

My research hadn't stopped at speaking to my couple of industry adjacent sources and reading the gossip columns.

I'd watched her movies.

A lot of them:

"White Meat 7:" her debut. A remarkably assured performance, taking on a male star renowned for his huge penis, Ashleigh took his best and came out smiling. Her co-star shook his head in the end credits scene. "Holy fuck. That chick is a machine!"

"Freshman Debutantes 28:" one of her breakout scenes and maybe my favourite. Ashleigh plays an innocent ingenue, all plaid skirts and knee socks. It was meant to be a solo scene, but at the end, in a completely unscripted moment, Ashleigh coaxes the director, a legendary former male performer, out from behind the camera and has him roughly dominate her for twenty minutes.

"Oiled Up Sluts 3:" Ashleigh takes on fifteen male actors, in a scene filmed for a studio notorious for its rough content. The scene lasts nearly two hours. At the end Ashleigh is left lying dishevelled in a paddling pool full of baby oil, covered in come and giggling as she touches herself.

"The Rougher the Better:" The first movie in Ashleigh's signature series. Four scenes of Ashleigh dominating other performers in intense lesbian sex scenes. Two of her co-stars finish their scenes in tears.

But I digress.

I had imagined this moment, but now I was here I wasn't sure of my opening gambit. "Hi."

Her smile widened. "You must be Robert. Don't look so nervous."

I relaxed immediately. There was something about her guileless smile.

"Let's grab a seat. We can get a drink and watch the girls while we talk." She ushered me towards the booth she had been sitting in.

"Sorry if I'm awkward, I haven't been in a strip club in years."

She smiled softly as she slid into the booth opposite me. "I didn't think of that - sorry. When you are in the industry you forget not everyone's brain works the same way as yours. We can go elsewhere if you want?"

I shook my head. "Honestly, it's fine."

Her smile returned. "Good. I've been training here. I've got a featured dancer slot in Vegas in a couple of weeks, which is hilarious, as I am literally the world's worst dancer!" She giggled. "So. You have questions? I'll give you the guided tour afterwards."

I nodded. "Your agent said you were cool with a couple of meetings where I could observe you in different environments..."

She laughed "You say it like I'm some sort of endangered species and you are a zoologist..."

I raised an eyebrow. "Are you though?" She frowned at me. "The Last Queen of Hardcore?"

She sighed. "Robert, please. People have been predicting the demise of "porn valley" since the 1980s. And we're all still here. The industry evolves. Home video was going to kill us. Then the internet. Then Onlyfans. Now it's AI. The industry will outlast both of us."

I smiled. "You've got a reputation as being a booster for the industry."

She shrugged at me. "I love what I do. I love the people. And I love that the industry helps people, maybe who are lonely or who struggle to connect." She smiled innocently. "It taught me everything I know about sex."

I smiled with puzzlement. "How so?"

"My parents were pretty conservative. And my home town is tiny. There was no chance of me finding a guy or girl who was right for me there. And I wasn't going to give my virginity to some idiot because he happened to be the captain of the football team or whatever."

"So a tough upbringing then?"

She narrowed her eyes at me. "I'm not playing that game Robert."

I widened my eyes. "What game?"

"The usual story. The one that's as old as this industry. Where you try to paint me as some damaged girl. Chewed up and used by exploitative men. That's not the story here at all. I'm making it clear just now so that you are not labouring under some misapprehension. But you'll see anyway. So for the record, my upbringing was in no way traumatic. Just a bit dull."

I was impressed by her composure. I decided to change tact. "So from what you were saying you must have been pretty inexperienced when you arrived in LA? What was that like?"

She smiled at me in amusement. "It wasn't like the cliche. Some hayseed stepping off the bus in the big city. I'd sent some photos to a couple of agents; Danny was the first to get back to me. He arranged a place to live initially and my first shoot." She paused as if considering whether to go on. "But yeah. You could say I was inexperienced. I lost my virginity on the day of my first shoot."

My mouth fell open. "You lost your virginity on camera?!"

She shook her head. "Not quite. I lost it to Jameis before the scene started. In my changing room. It was incredible. And I knew we'd have amazing chemistry in the scene after that."

I was still nonplussed. "You turned up on a porn set... an eighteen year old virgin...?!..." I trailed off.

"Yep. There's your big scoop. I haven't told anyone that story before. The director, Vance, was legit annoyed - he didn't realise I was a virgin, and when he found out he hit the roof; reckoned an on-screen deflowering would have made him millions!" She giggled at the memory.

Drinks we hadn't ordered appeared on the table.

I cleared my throat. "You've got a reputation as not being a typical adult star..."

"Because I speak in words of more than two syllables? That's pretty disrespectful. And a pretty sad trope - because a girl likes to fuck she must be a complete airhead. Not that she can be an intelligent sophisticated woman who just happens to know and enjoy her own body."

I was caught on my heels. Before I could follow up she continued.

"I'm a sex-positive feminist Robert. I respect myself and I respect my body. I love to get fucked. But I do it on my own terms. The fact I get paid pretty well for it too is a nice extra. But I want other women to see that they shouldn't be afraid of their desires. And they shouldn't let men tell them what it is acceptable to desire."

I saw an opening. "So in terms of desire... what is it for you? Men? Women?"

She shook her head, smiling. "I know your employers are pretty conservative, but come on. It's not that simple. I follow my feelings. Everyone is attractive in their own way. I'm not going to put a label on what I like." She lowered her voice conspiratorially and lent forward across the table. "But between ourselves, I especially like fucking petite Latina girls and big black guys."

I laughed at her forthrightness. "Can we talk petite Latina girls?"

She sat back and nodded. I'd caught her interest.

"In 'The Rougher the Better 1' you fuck Cali Sanchez with an intensity that is off the charts. By the end of the scene she is in tears. It's a pretty hard watch... how does that tie in with your stated feminism?"

A wide smile spread across her face. "Cali is my housemate. She is also possibly my best friend in the world..."

Again I was speechless.

"It's a performance Robert. Once the camera was off I held her for like twenty minutes. That's the bit the audience don't get to see. She was buzzing. And people loved that scene. We're going to do another scene together for 'Rougher the Better 3' that's going to be even more full on." She smiled wistfully. "That's probably my favourite scene I've done so far." Her eyes snapped back to me. "What about you?"

"Sorry?"

"What's your favourite scene of mine? Don't be coy. You've watched them."

I swallowed. Best to come clean "Erm... Freshman Debutantes..."

She made her eyes huge, fluttered her lashes then bit her lip "You like it when I play innocent?"

I shifted uncomfortably. I saw her file this away for reference. "Seriously though. I loved that. I couldn't help myself. Antoni has been fucking girls like me since before I was born. He's a genuine legend - I had to shoot my shot. You know he hadn't been on camera for six years. I got him into a lot of trouble with his wife. He hadn't lost a step though. I could barely walk the next day!" She smiled sweetly at me. "Have you ever seen his scene with Kristina Fox?"

I shook my head.

"Kristina is the greatest to ever do it. She's as close to a role model as I have."

Kristina Fox had been the star of the scene about a decade ago, a voluptuous brunette with the face of a catwalk model. She had appeared from some obscure corner of the former Soviet Union, and had become the superstar of the Euro porn scene. She had then completed a brief, and apparently exceptionally lucrative tour of the US studios before retiring back into the obscurity she first came from, a very rich woman. All in, she had been active for less than four years. The scene Ashleigh was talking about had been notorious for its roughness, and questions about the limits of consent, which both stars had been required to publicly address.

I smiled. "One of my colleagues is in Budapest just now, working on a story on the industry there. I'll need to check if they stumbled across her."

Ashleigh's face lit up. "Seriously? I would love to meet her. I would love to do a scene with her. That's like a top three fantasy..."

I shrugged. "I'll see what I can do."

She was smiling radiantly now. "Okay. So back to your story. What's your angle then? We've already decided that the victim narrative is out. And I think we both realise that the dumb blonde line won't work either..."

"I don't know Ashleigh. I'm coming into this with an open mind."

She stood from the table. "Time for the tour."

She took my arm as I stood and led me to a door behind the stage. Beyond it was a changing area. There were stripper clothes and make up bags everywhere. "I'd love to make a movie that's like the BTS, but not the BTS if that makes sense. Where it's raw and unfiltered and you see the stars without their armour on." Before I could process she had my arm again. "Okay. Next stop. The private rooms." She pushed open the door to a long corridor lined with seven identical doors. She pushed the first one open. The room was subtly lit. Dark decor. Thick carpet. A red velvet armchair and matching chaise longue. I looked about, unsure what to say.

Ashleigh closed the door to the room. "Have you ever had a private dance before?"

I shook my head.

She smiled wickedly and pointed to the armchair. "Take a seat."

As I sat she advanced on me, her blue eyes locked on mine. "Just relax. I'm going to make this really nice for you." When she reached the armchair she stood for a moment then swung her right leg up, placing it on the arm of the chair. She coiled her right arm round my neck, then used me for leverage as she hauled her left leg onto the other arm, so she was straddling me in a deep split. She dipped and let her ass crack drag against my groin, where my cock was hardening at this unexpected display.

"So, just to let you know Mr. Journalist" she cooed in my ear "you can write about anything I do while you are shadowing me. Anything. All I want is for it to be honest."

She undid the bikini top. As it fell away there wasn't a millimetre of sag in her firm full breasts. Her nipples were each capped with a delicate silver ring. These hadn't been present in any of the scenes I had seen. She spotted me looking. "You like my new jewellery? You can touch if you want. They make my nipples so sensitive..."

In spite of it breaching pretty much every journalistic code of ethics I reached up and squeezed her breasts. She shook her head. *No. The nipples. I want you to pinch them. Watch what it does to me."

I followed her instructions. As I squeezed both of her nipples simultaneously she sighed and sunk down onto my crotch, grinding herself hard against me. "Oh my. You are turning me into a little bimbo here Robert."

With incredible grace she lifted first one leg then the other off the arm of the seat so she was now straddling me. She ground her pelvis against me again then hopped off my lap. She stood in front of me, her hands on her hips. "Stand up."

I was conscious of the erection pressing hard against my trousers. She smiled with satisfaction as she registered it.

As I stood she dropped into a crouch in front of me. My belt and fly were undone before I knew what was happening.

"Let me show you something. Some texture for your article."

She popped my cock out over the waistband of my shorts without breaking eye contact. Her hand was on me. She stroked me gently, unhurriedly. It felt incredible. Suddenly my cock was in her mouth. It wasn't the frantic messy deep throat I'd seen her perform on screen. She took my full length in slowly, giving a little hum of pleasure at the point of maximum depth before pulling back up. She repeated this once more. I was embarrassingly close already. "Oh fuck Ashleigh... I'm getting close."

She let my cock fall from her mouth and sat back on her heels. "Uh uh. Not today. We have a whole week, yeah?"

I looked down at her as she scooped up her bikini top and retied it. "Really - that's it...?"

She smiled foxily. "For today. Don't worry. There's a lot of hours in a week. You don't put all the good stuff in the first paragraph of all your stories do you?" She was mocking me. "Now. I want to see you tomorrow. And I want you to bring your notes from today so I can see them." I went to speak, but she cut me off. "I know, I know, Danny warned me; I don't get editorial control. But I want to make sure that we are producing something together that's honest. Intimate. And if you are able to do that, I promise complete access. Everything." Her eyes smouldered as they locked on mine. She was still crouching on the floor in front of me.

She rose to her feet. Her tone lightened. "I'll wait with you while they get you a cab. I'll text you later with details for tomorrow." As we went to leave the room she stopped in front of me and turned. She pressed a tiny little kiss against my lips. "Don't let me down." She smiled and led me out.

That night as I leafed through my notes, trying not to get distracted by the mental image of Ashleigh with my cock in her mouth, my phone buzzed. It was Ashleigh's agent, Danny: "Ash and I are lunching tomorrow, 1pm at La Ritournelle. She asked me to loop you in, as she would like you to join us."

I texted back in the affirmative.

The next day I arrived five minutes late for lunch. I struggled to get parked. La Ritournelle was an expensive fashionable bistro style restaurant with a large covered terrace area. The Maitre d' escorted me to a table where Ashleigh and Danny were already seated. Ashleigh was wearing a light blue summer dress and incongruously a pair of glasses. Danny looked every part the agent, tall and suave, with dark hair, a black blazer with a white t-shirt underneath. He stood and shook my hand when I arrived at the table.

We made small talk as we ate. After the main course Ashleigh excused herself to use the bathroom. She smoothed the thin dress down as she stood, briefly outlined in silhouette by the sun, her curves illuminated through the dress. I felt my cock twitch.

As she walked away from the table Danny smiled sardonically. "She's something isn't she?"

I nodded.

"I've got a problem. She's getting to a point where if her current trajectory continues she's going to be too big for the industry soon. Then it becomes a question as to how she leverages that into mainstream appeal. The issue is, the utter filth she's doing on camera right now. She wants to push the envelope in every scene. There's a tipping point, where she goes from being America's naughty sweetheart to a punchline."

I nodded. "Ashleigh suggested you were pretty instrumental in getting her out here - how did you end up working with her?"

He smiled. "She e-mailed me. A little story about herself, some pictures. Selfies basically." He sighed. "I get hundreds of similar e-mails a week. Usually two camps: girls who dance or strip and think they have what it takes and guys trying to exploit their girlfriend's good looks or permissive nature. Most get semi professional photos at least. Not Ashleigh. She sent me a headshot and a mirror selfie showing her ass." He smiled at the memory. "I can't explain it. I just knew looking at her she was going to be something special. I arranged for her to fly out the next week. She arrived with one suitcase. That was fourteen months ago. She's been here every since."

"You seem pretty invested in her?"

He nodded. "Professionally absolutely. She's my golden ticket right now. That sounds cynical, but it's true. My agency has never had a girl take off like she has. And there's something about her. You want her to do well. She's so sweet and cool."

"Tell me about your first meeting."

He leant forward and lowered his voice. "She came down to the agency on her first afternoon to get her paperwork and tests done. It was all very professional. Just admin. Then at the end of the day we were alone in my office. I used to be a performer you know?" I nodded. Danny had been a mid-tier male talent before cannily transitioning to his current role. "She started to tell me about how she used to touch herself to one of my scenes. Fuck. I think it was about fifteen years old the scene, me and another guy absolutely degrading some poor 'one and done' girl. She described all the things she liked in the scene in remarkable detail." He paused. Ashleigh had stopped on her way back at another table. She was smiling at the patrons. We watched as she signed a napkin then planted a kiss on it. Danny sighed. "Next thing she was on her knees in front of my desk. I have never done that with a talent before. Ever. I'm a professional. But she's got something..."

He trailed off. I got it though. Ashleigh was now taking a selfie with two guys in suits. She smiled sweetly.

"The fact that the professor has taken her under his wing..." He was referring to Alessio Antonelli, the veteran director, and self-proclamed inventor of Gonzo porn, who had publicly declared Ashleigh to be his muse, "I mean, when you see the list of the girls who he has given the same attention he is giving Ashleigh... there's not many. And you are talking the creme de la creme. As well as her series, he's basically said he is going to write in a scene for her in every movie he directs going forward, and they are hers to turn down..."

He cleared his throat. "Anyway. Ash does not need me to say this, but I'm going to say it regardless. Don't stitch us up here. She's a good girl. And she believes in what she does." I nodded. He smiled. "And you be careful too. Don't fall in love with her. She'll break your heart." Something told me he spoke from experience.

Ashleigh had escaped the table of fanboys. Danny nodded to her as she approached the table. "Charming your public?"

She sat back down, giving a coy little wave over her shoulder to the other table. "As always."

Danny checked his watch. "I need to take off. I have a meeting with a director. Be nice to Robert." He slid a credit card across the table to Ashleigh. "Lunch is on me."

She smiled across the table at me. "What are we going to get up to this afternoon then?"

I smiled back. "I assumed you had a plan?"

"Nope. Why don't you come back to mine. Get a slice of life. I have class at four thirty though, so you're on borrowed time."

I was mystified "Class?"

"Yeah..." she took her glasses off, held them up to the light with a distracted expression, then rubbed the right lens on the hem of her dress "I'm doing a pre-med access course at UC."

I actually laughed out loud. "You are full of surprises."

She shook her head. "People are going to get tired of seeing my T and A eventually. Need to plan for the future."

We got in my car and she gave directions, to a modest ranch style house in the hills. We entered the modern open plan space together. To the left was the kitchen and dining area, with a breakfast counter. A hallway to the right led off to the bedrooms presumably. The living room was large and bright, with patio doors giving access to a deck. The living room had cushions scattered on the floor in front of the sofa, and two spotlights, a boom mic and a camera tripod around them.

"Cali's been trying shooting here" she said by way of explanation.

"So is it just the two of you?"

She shook her head. "Cali's girlfriend, Ivana too. She's also in the industry. I'm the third wheel!"

"So do you split the rent?"

She shook her head smiling. "The agency own the place. It pays for itself effectively. The deck and the pool area have been in more scenes than I have. They let it out to the studios. Let me show you my room."

She seemed genuinely excited for me to see her room, and the room itself, like that of a typical college student lent itself to the impression that she was a lot younger than she had come across yesterday. Her desk was strewn with text books. Her bed was unmade. A washing hamper overflowed in one corner of the room.

"I've something I really wanted to show you..."

She opened the bottom drawer of her dresser and rummaged.

"Not many girls do this, but I always ask to keep the outfits from scenes I enjoy, if they are ever funny about it I just ask them to deduct it from my fee." I couldn't help stare at her ass as she bent over the drawer. "Partly it's sentimental. I find it a turn on to revisit them. But it's also an investment. Some fans will pay a lot for a used outfit... found it!"

She straightened up holding a large zip lock bag. She opened it and removed one of the items within, a little blue plaid pleated skirt. It took me a moment, then recognition hit me.

"From the scene you said you liked." It was indeed the little skirt she had worn in her "Freshman Debutantes" scene. "Maybe if I like your first draft of the article I'll model it just for you sometime..." she set the skirt and bag down and stepped closer to me, putting her hands on my chest. Her voice dropped to a lower register. "Maybe we could re-enact the scene. Or you could direct your own version..." she pressed closer against me. I could feel the curves of her body through the thin dress.

I was just mulling whether to try to kiss her when she stepped back. Suddenly she was all business. "Now. Let's see those notes. Come on, I'll make you a coffee while we go through them."

I ended up sitting at the breakfast bar talking her through the notes. She nodded and commented as we went. At the end she nodded with satisfaction. "I really like the direction you are taking. I'm happy with that." She beamed at me across the counter. "I need to get ready for class now. I'll drop you a message later and we can talk about our next meeting."

She showed me out, smiling.

I got the distinct feeling I was no longer in control of the narrative.

Later that night she texted me. "What are you doing?"

I texted back honestly that I was watching TV and eating chips.

"Cali and I have gone clubbing. You should come meet."

I mulled the offer briefly, but there was nothing I could think of less appealing than a noisy nightclub. I politely declined, citing my advanced years half jokingly.

"Okay. Your loss." A picture was attached of her and Cali squeezed together in a booth. She had tight little waves in her hair and sparkly make-up. She was spilling out of a fitted black strapless dress. Cali was wearing a blue tube top and mini skirt in some shiny material.

The next morning my colleague Tristan, he of the trips to Bogota and Budapest e-mailed me: "So I asked around Budapest about that pornstar you mentioned - Kristina Fox. She's a whole story on her own."

"She has a house in LA. A nice place behind Sunset. Must have cost a pretty penny. And she keeps a penthouse suite in the Hotel Magor here. Very tony. She's basically reclusive. Travels with two scary looking bodyguards so no one approaches her. Doesn't speak to journalists. Last interview she gave was five years ago. She has a reputation as being a bitter crank. She apparently hates the industry now. Thinks it's been completely debased. The women are talentless bimbos, the men are thieves. Her movies were art."

There was a paragraph break.

"Guess who has got a hold of her e-mail address?"

I thanked him profusely. I'd been fishing for an additional angle to my story. Maybe this was it, if I could persuade the enigmatic Kristina to speak to me. I messaged my editor, Milo, explaining my thoughts: Ashleigh's story remaining unchanged, but linking in her hero worship of Kristina. A bridge between her and the industry legends of the past. Milo enthusiastically endorsed this plan.

Now I just had to clear it with Ashleigh and work out how to get Kristina to talk to me.

I messaged Ashleigh that morning. "Hope you had a good night last night. I've an exciting idea for the article, if you want to catch up today?"

Ashleigh messaged back ten minutes later. "Come over to mine. Bring coffee."

When I arrived Ashleigh was curled on the sofa. She was wearing a simple strappy blue vest top and a pair of thin pale grey cotton shorts. Her golden hair was tied back in a tight ponytail.

"Heavy night." She smiled as she took the coffee from me and shifted up to let me on the sofa. "So... tell me your exciting idea..."

I smiled at her. She looked effortlessly beautiful. "Okay. I remember you mentioning a girl who was your kind of idol - Kristina Fox..." I had her attention now. "My colleague Tristan has been in Budapest on assignment over the last few weeks, and he asked around. He's got me an e-mail address for Kristina. Turns out she has a house in LA, no idea how often she visits though. But if I could get her to speak to me for the article..."

She cut in "You'd introduce us?"

"Well if I could."

She giggled. "Good luck. Kristina didn't leave the industry on good terms with pretty much anyone. But if you could make something happen... I mean Jesus." She sighed. She was somewhere else in her imagination. "Have you ever seen one of her scenes?"

I admitted I hadn't.

"Wait two minutes."

Ashleigh disappeared into her room and re-emerged with a laptop. She opened it up, navigated to a video file, opened it and then cast it onto the large TV on the wall opposite the sofa. She settled back into the sofa next to me.

The scene was a large open plan living room of a house that would have been on the cutting edge of luxury in around 2010.

Ashleigh sat back on the sofa next to me. "You need to see this. This is one of her earliest scenes. She's a fucking goddess in this one."

An unattractive, muscular bald man was sitting expectantly on a large leather sofa in a wife beater and jeans. I recognised him as Oscar Valenti, a well known Italian stud. The patio doors of the room slid open and there she was.

Kristina Fox was tall, probably about five seven without her heels. Her figure was spectacular. She was wearing a black fishnet body stocking and a little black leather micro-skirt. Her breasts were large and rounded, her stomach flat, with defined abs. Her legs were long and she looked like she could crack walnuts between her thighs. She was beautiful too. Long wavy black hair, in this scene tied back in a high ponytail. Exotic, slightly Asiatic facial structure. Catlike green eyes. Pouting lips.

She was leading a waifish blonde girl, who was crawling on all fours. Kristina had her on a leash. She approached Oscar. "This girl you got me is no good." She declared in heavily accented English.

"What do you mean?" Oscar retorted. "She was working perfectly good before." He stood and looked down at the blonde girl, who was dressed in a kind of wench costume. Her hair was in pigtails.

Oscar gripped Kristina by the chin. She glared back at him defiantly.

"There is nothing wrong with the girl. Watch." He took the leash from Kristina and led the girl further into the room.

"That's Lily Kat" Ashleigh explained "she's a sub in a lot of euro scenes from this era. She plays the overwhelmed sub really well." I noticed how intently Ashleigh was watching.

On screen Oscar had Lily kneeling on the floor before him with her hands behind her back. Kristina stood behind her with her hands on her shoulders. He looked down at Lily. "Open mouth please sweetheart." Kristina glowered at him.

Oscar took his cock out of his shorts. It probably wasn't much longer than my own, but without exaggeration it was at least double the girth.

"Fucking hell!"

Ashleigh giggled at my reaction. "It's what he's famous for. Well that and this as well." She gestured at the screen as Oscar worked his cock into Lily's mouth. He held the base, beneath his balls and waggled it in her mouth and throat. She retched. He pulled out, bubbles of saliva and streamers trailed from his cock. Kristina held Lily in place as he repeated the action again and again. The third time Lily vomited with his cock buried in her mouth. Yellowish saliva cascaded from the corners of her mouth. Kristina grabbed her pigtails and pushed her hard onto Oscar's cock then held her there as she writhed and thrashed, before yanking her back. Spit streamed out Lily's mouth and down her front. She gasped and panted as tears streamed from her eyes, ruining her make up.

Kristina grabbed the leash again. "Look. I show you."

She dragged Lily over to the sofa and pushed her face down onto it, bent over. She stood over the girl as she whimpered. Then she took the end of the leather leash she was holding and lashed the girl on the ass with it. Lily squealed. Oscar smirked. Kristina repeated the action, then without any preamble, knelt and shoved three of her fingers into Lily's cunt. The girl stiffened and craned her back. Kristina started to ram her fingers in and out of Lily hard. Oscar appeared at Lily's head and angled himself so that his cock was level with her face, then resumed the earlier face fucking.

Ashleigh made a little noise. I glanced to my left and realised she was idly running her finger up and down the seam at the crotch of her shorts. She realised I was looking. "Sorry. It's a favourite of mine. Not helped by the fact that I'm hangover horny."

I felt my face flush. "Don't stop on my account."

She turned to look at me, her voice husky. "Good. I was hoping you would say that." She broke eye contact and glanced down, rubbing her hand harder against herself before returning her eyes to me, a hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth. She returned to her commentary on the movie. "Oscar and Kristina are like a dream pairing. Poor Lily. They are not even letting her take a breath."

It was true. On the screen Lily had been flipped on to her back on the sofa. Oscar was crouching over her face and grinding his ass crack up and down her nose and mouth, jerking himself off while calling her a dumb bitch. Kristina had produced a huge glass dildo with a massive mushroomed head, and was pushing it against Lily's anus. With a little pop the head slipped inside. Kristina leant in and licked Lily's pussy, angling her face so the camera could see what she was doing. Just for a second she glanced straight down the camera, her face fierce and lustful. Ashleigh made a little peep. I glanced down. She was now circling her hand hard against herself and her other hand had gone to her breast. I was conscious of my own arousal, which was severe enough that a little precum had wet my underwear at the tip of my cock.

Kristina had withdrawn the dildo from Lily. She was now working her fingers into Lily's anus. Two. Then three. Four. Then, improbably, her whole fist. She was wrist deep in her. The girl screamed. Oscar appeared and crouched above Kristina, before shoving his enormous cock into Lily's pussy, as Kristina continued to fist her. Kristina craned her neck and lapped Oscar's anus, before he started taking long thumping strokes in and out of Lily.

Ashleigh groaned next to me. Her hand was in her shorts now. Her head lolled against my shoulder. I sat stiffly, unsure what to do.

In the video Oscar was making animalistic noises. His sweat was dripping on both of the girls. Lily was shrieking. Kristina was pistoning her hand in Lily's ass. With a long groan, Oscar took a final deep stroke in Lily and held it there, before pulling out and stepping away. Kristina twisted her wrist and then slowly slipped her hand out of Lily's wrecked anus.

I felt Ashleigh's hand on the front of my trousers, rubbing my cock through the fabric.

On screen Oscar's cum had started to flood out of Lily. Kristina carefully lapped it up, holding it in her mouth. She clambered onto the sofa between Lily's legs then leant in close to her face before spitting the mouthful of cum all over Lily's face. Before Lily could react Kristina took the hand that had been deep in Lily's ass moments before and shoved it far into Lily's mouth. She gagged and coughed spit all over her chin and chest.

Ashleigh was squeezing my cock now as she continued to touch herself. "Take it out..." She groaned.

I unzipped my fly and undid my button. Ashleigh wet her right hand with her own saliva, wrapped it round my cock and started to stroke me aggressively, her fingers sliding up and down the full length of my cock, tugging hard. Her left hand still moving rapidly within her own shorts.

"Oh fuck Ashleigh..." I groaned.

"That's it. Come for me Robert..."

I ejaculated all over her hand, my stomach and the waistband of my trousers, as Ashleigh panted harder. She took her cum covered right hand and shoved it into her shorts, massaging it hard into herself.

In the movie Kristina was leading Lily back out the door on her leash. Lily was not moving as freely as she had been earlier. Kristina was berating both Lily and Oscar as she did so.

Ashleigh squealed and her hand slowed. I watched a dark patch form on the crotch of her shorts. She wasn't looking at me at all, her eyes were fixed on the screen.

Afterwards she let her head rest on my shoulder as her breathing slowly returned to normal.

She made a satisfied little hum. "I could watch her all day. I want her to fuck me like that. I need you to make that happen..."

It felt like a lot of pressure.

After a few moments she sat up. Suddenly she was all business. "Your trousers will need washed - you came all over them. Take them off."

I took the trousers off. She took them from me, balled them up and dropped them in the washing machine, throwing her own shorts in too, before turning it on. She turned and looked at me, naked from the waist down. It was the first time I had seen her pussy, smooth and waxed, with full puffy lips.

She walked over and sat back down on the sofa, completely un-self conscious, beckoning me over. She sighed indulgently. "Sit. You are stuck here now until your trousers are dry, so you may as well ask me some questions..."

I asked her about the scene we had just watched.

"It's definitely in my top ten. The only thing it's missing is Kristina getting fucked too. The final scene of the movie is her and Oscar and another guy, Bobbie Mandinka. They absolutely plow her." She was getting the faraway look again. She sighed. "She's the only one left."

I raised my eyebrows questioningly.

"Oscar and Lily. Both gone. Oscar was drugs. Maybe deliberate. The full story never came out. Lily was hit by a car in St. Petersburg only a few months after this was filmed. It was one of her last scenes."

"Cursed..." I muttered.

She shook her head. "Who knows. But it's heartbreaking. The industry needs to look after its people better. That's why I like Danny. He's been there. He knows how it goes."

I tried to move onto lighter subjects. "So was Kristina the inspiration for "The Rougher the Better"?

She smiled broadly. "Yes! Absolutely. And I'm so glad the parallel is obvious enough for you to see. The scene with Cali was all about recreating the kind of D/S dynamics Kristina used to bring to her girl-girl scenes."

The scene with Cali was notorious, not just for Ashleigh's friend's tears, but for the overall intensity, which was a grade above anything else being produced in the US these days.

It starts with Cali in a room with black PVC padded walls. Her hands are cuffed behind her back. She is naked. Ashleigh enters and things instantly heat up. Her hair is in two tight box pleats like an MMA fighter. She's wearing a black PVC bustier, fishnet thigh highs and a strap on harness that has been modified to hold two dildos, one above the other. The top one is black, long and realistic looking. The bottom one is a squat purple thing, broad, curved and fat.

She starts by face fucking Cali savagely with the long dildo, gripping her dark curly hair and shoving it's full length down her throat. The scene has little build up or tease. Ashleigh is soon fucking a drool splattered Cali with both of the dildos, expertly angling them to double penetrate her friend. She is rough. She slaps. She spits. She fucks. She doesn't speak once in the scene. It's the length that's striking. She fucks Cali with an unrelenting intensity for way longer than is typical in these sort of scenes. They changed position a few times, but nothing wild. Cali is in tears long before the end of the scene. By the end she is like a ragdoll, her eyes rolling, barely making a sound, just choked little sobs, as Ashleigh uses her. Ashleigh, for her part, does not let up at all. When Ashleigh finishes with her she simply shoves Cali, still handcuffed, to the floor and stalks off screen, as the camera zooms in on Cali, a shaking, tearful wreck on the floor.

I smiled half ironically. "I know you've explained your relationship with Cali, but I still can't believe that a..." I searched for the word "obliteration like that didn't affect the way you think of each other..."

She shrugged. "I can't rationalise it. The fact that I love Cali dearly made that scene easier. She knows what I'm like. She knows what's under the surface. And she trusted me even though she knows how nasty I am. And I trusted her when she said she could handle it." She paused. "I'm getting wet again talking about it."

I tried to ignore this. "So where does it end though Ashleigh? Do you keep escalating in every scene?"

She sighed. "If only. A decade ago, the professor had a literal production line of girls from eastern Europe. Sorry. I know that's not appropriate language, but it's the only way I can think to describe it. It was like the new frontier. One girl after another, each one hotter and nastier than the one before. Girls who looked like supermodels but who would drink your piss and let you shove your fist up their assholes." She saw me shifting with a little discomfort. "But these girls grew up. Found a rich guy and dropped out. And no next generation came. The girls can make more money selling cheesecake shots on their Onlyfans." She was on a roll now. "The male talent is even worse. All the good guys aged out. The younger ones set up shop for themselves much like the girls, selling their own content. Or they turned out to be creeps..."

"Like Johnny Liberty?" I cut in.

She nodded.

Johnny Liberty was the male actor who Ashleigh had spoken out against. It turned out his problematic behaviour had been an open secret that industry insiders had turned a blind eye to.

"You okay to talk about this?"

She nodded again. "Yeah. I'd like to."

I listened intently as she laid the story out. It was her third scene. She had been cast opposite Liberty in a blowjob only scene. She had hated it.

"He stunk. I don't have many dealbreakers, but personal hygiene is the big one. I complained to the director, who basically shrugged it off 'you're getting paid well, lots of other girls will do it if you won't, don't want to get a reputation for being difficult', you know, low-level manipulative shit. I should have walked right then. But I didn't. I did the scene. He was rougher than we had agreed beforehand. Slapped me a couple of times, which, you know, I'm normally okay with, as long as it's agreed up front. This wasn't. He knew I'd complained and was trying to make a point. About who had the power. After the scene I was in the girls dressing room on my own. He came in, locked the door behind himself. Tried to get me to smoke crank with him. Tried to get me to fuck him. When I said no he turned nasty..."

She trailed off, looked down, then lifted her chin defiantly. "I told him to go fuck himself. But I was scared really. But the fact I stood my ground. He wasn't used to this. He didn't know what to do. Then I realised who really had the power. I walked out the room, walked off the set and went straight to Danny. He got the word out through the industry dirtsheets, gossip columns, message boards, you name it."

She stopped and sighed. "Danny's a fucking legend. He dealt with it perfectly. But the fact that I had to go to a guy to sort it out didn't sit right with me. That's why it felt so good when the other girls came forward. I felt like I'd empowered them. There's no industry without the women. And we should be valued and treated with the importance we deserve."

I found myself letting out a long exhale when she finished. We sat in silence for a minute. Then her washer-drier bleeped for the end of the cycle.

She hopped up. She took her shorts out first and wiggled them on. I couldn't help staring at her ass. Then she threw me my jeans.

"That's probably enough for today. I need to study. Hit me up later and we can decide what we're doing next." She came over close to me. She craned up and placed a slow, wet kiss on my cheek. "Thanks. For today. Next time I have a hangover bring a pizza. Apart from that you've been perfect." And with that she showed me to the door.

The next day Tristan e-mailed me. He had heard a rumour Kristina had flown out to the US the previous weekend. He was chasing it up. I thanked him again. I decided not to tell Ashleigh for now, until I had something more firm to go on.

Nonetheless, I sent a message to the email address Tristan had previously provided, more through hope than expectation. I kept it simple. Introduced myself. Explained I was writing a story on the industry. Wondered if she would be free to talk next time she was on the US.

Ashleigh texted me that afternoon. "I'll need to read how you are planning to write up yesterday. It's important. Especially the last thing we talked about."

This was more serious than her usual tone. I got why.

As I was digesting this my phone started buzzing. It was a video call from Ashleigh. She came on bright and bubbly. She was outside - looked like the college campus. "I need a date" She beamed. "And I think you've earned a night out for being such a good listener. Danny didn't tell me I had to take you - honest!" She giggled.

I turned out that Ashleigh had wangled an invite to a movie premiere. Some third rate straight to DVD horror sequel, but a movie premiere nonetheless. She had four tickets. Cali, Ivana, Ashleigh and her date - me.

"Dress nice for the paparazzi. We'll pick you up at 7.30"

I rooted about in my wardrobe and picked out one of my favourite suits, an old brown tweed Versace with flared trousers that I had unbelievably found in a charity store years ago for less than $50. I picked out a shirt and tie to match. I looked as cool as I was going to.

At exactly 7.30 a huge black SUV with tinted windows appeared outside. I headed out the door and climbed in as the door swung open. The others were all sitting in the back with champagne glasses in hand. I had never seen Ivana before. She was tall and slim and slightly severe looking, with short dark hair, small eyes, high cheekbones and a small full mouth. She was wearing an ankle length dark red velvet gown. Next to her was Cali, her mass of dark curls in a sophisticated up-do. Her tan skin seemed to glow, her brown eyes were huge and expressive, matched only by her electric smile. I thought of Ashleigh spitting in her face and slapping her. I couldn't meet her eye.

Ashleigh looked astounding. She was wearing a backless black dress, with a halter neck, however the collar was styled like a bondage collar, with a large o-ring on the front. The straps were studded leather. Her blonde hair fell in loose waves over one shoulder. She shifted to let me sit then unexpectedly slid onto my knee before planting a voluptuous kiss on my mouth. She pulled away smiling. "You look very handsome." She had one hand on my chest and was gently rubbing it against my shirt. I could feel my cock hardening in my pants.

Ivana introduced herself, smiling warmly. "We've had quite a bit of champagne already." She glanced at Ashleigh, beaming in my lap, now toying with a strand of my hair. "But you probably guessed that."

Cali smiled brightly at me. "Ashleigh says you are shy. Don't be." Then something wicked crossed her face. "Ashleigh told me you watched our scene together. Maybe later you can give me notes." She and Ashleigh started giggling simultaneously as Ivana rolled her eyes, evidently used to being the sensible one.

As we pulled up at the theatre Ashleigh gave me instructions. "You climb out first, then take my arm and help me down. I want to make an entrance here." Ivana shook her head smiling.

When the car stopped outside I did as instructed. There were a surprising number of photographers for an event that was unabashedly z-list. Ashleigh milked the cameras slickly, pulling me into a clinch in a couple of shots, posing sassily on her own, then grabbing Cali and very chastely holding hands with her. This last shot was the one that the camera men pounced on.

Once inside, Ashleigh circulated in the lobby, dragging me behind her, occasionally stopping to chat to people who I didn't know. The theatre itself was quirky. It had crescent shaped booths with little tables rather than traditional stalls. The four of us squeezed round one. Another bottle of champagne appeared on the table.

The movie itself was derivative pap, a mash-up of an eighties slasher and noughties torture porn. No one was really watching. People talked openly and wandered from booth to booth. A paparazzo, perhaps at the behest of the director, was inside the theatre taking photos. As he arrived at our booth, Ashleigh and Cali, who occupied the middle two seats, started kissing passionately. They were all over each other. I was extremely turned on as Cali kissed Ashleigh's throat and fondled her breasts. Someone in an adjacent booth held up their phone, evidently filming this. Ivana smiled indulgently. More champagne arrived. I had a low level tingle of arousal throughout the evening.

By the time we clambered back into the SUV outside I was quite drunk, as were the others. Cali wanted to go to a club, but no one else was keen. Ashleigh was as drunk as me. Ivana looked tired.

When we arrived at their house Ashleigh dragged me out the SUV by the hand without warning. "Come on. You're staying with me tonight."

When we got inside Ivana helped Cali to bed. I hadn't realised how blitzed she was. Ashleigh took my hand and led me through to her messy bedroom.

"You've not to take advantage of the drunken pornstar" she giggled. "I mean it. I am intoxicated and incapable." She burst out laughing at her own ridiculousness, but then hunkered into my side and whispered "If you behave I will make it very worthwhile when I sober up. Promise."

I had to help her take her shoes and dress off. She climbed into bed just in her panties, a black sheer pair that left little to the imagination. I stripped down to my boxer shorts and joined her under the covers. She spooned in to me and wiggled her ass. "Be good for me..." she whispered sleepily as she drifted off.

I woke up with sun streaming in the window of the room. It took my eyes a moment to adjust.

"Good morning."

The voice came from Ashleigh's desk.

She was leaning over the desk.

My mouth dropped open. She was wearing a white lacy bralette and matching cheekies. Her ass looked delicious. She had white thigh highs on and her hair was in twin tails. Her mouth curled into a saucy smile. "I promised you a treat if you were good. And you were very good." She glanced down at herself. I remember you telling me you liked my innocent look." She turned to face me. "So what do you think? This is all for you..."

I mumbled something unintelligible. She turned again and bent over the desk. "Don't keep me waiting" she purred.

I nearly fell out of bed as I rose. I headed straight to her. She smiled and simpered as I approached. "You can do anything you want."

I gripped her firm ass in both hands. Journalistic ethics be damned. She leant back and moulded her body to me. I was hard already. Her hand found my cock through my shorts. "Looks like my outfit is hitting the mark." She kissed me on the side of my jaw and ground her ass against my hands. I squeezed harder. "An ass man then?" She smiled. "I had you down as a boob guy too. Oh well. Maybe you'd like to fuck my ass this morning?"

She slid her hands under mine and then tugged her panties down to mid thigh before bending over the desk again. She parted her cheeks with her hands and looked back up at me. "Come on. Put it in my tight little ass. I know you want to."

I had never had anal sex before. It was something I fantasised about, but the opportunity had never arisen. I didn't want to spoil the moment with my typical self doubt though. I took my cock in my hand and pressed it against her tight little anus. "That's it..." she cooed. "Shove it right in my tight little shitbox. I can take it." I worked my cock in. It was easier than I expected, but breathtakingly tight. I stopped halfway to gauge her reaction. She looked over her shoulder again, her mouth slightly open. "I want all of it. Fuck my ass."

I took a tentative first stroke. Ashleigh gasped. On my second stroke she braced her hands against the desk and pushed back hard. I went deep. "Come on... fuck me back" she gasped.

We got a rhythm. Not fast. But steady, deep and hard. It was incredible. Ashleigh was vocal throughout. I was embarrassed. Her roomies were right through the wall. There was no way they couldn't hear this. "That is really fucking good. You're fucking my ass so well." My thighs slapped against her ass with each stroke. I wasn't sure what to do with my hands. I wanted to grab her, but I didn't want to break the rhythm or tempo.

The slapping of our flesh was like a drum beat. Ashleigh started to make high pitched sounds. She pushed off the desk with one hand and started to rub her pussy with the other. "I want you to take control. Pull my hair." I grabbed her two ponytails. She gasped "Good. Now control me. Pull them. Make me your little anal puppet." I yanked back on her hair on the next stroke, trying to maintain the depth and regularity of my strokes. She gave a little high pitched squeak. "Keep doing that. Show me who's ass this is this morning..." I had to focus hard on not speeding up. I could feel the early approach of climax. It felt like it was building from somewhere in a locus around mid-thigh and lower stomach. "I'm close... fuck..."

"Oooooh" she let out a long groan... "where do you want to come?"

I was beyond speech.

She realised this. She suddenly slid off me and twisted into a crouch in front of me in a single movement. She grabbed my cock and milked it directly onto the lower half of her face, catching some on her mouth, looking up at me as the load splattered on her cheeks and chin, before taking the head of my cock in her mouth once and swirling her tongue around it.

I slumped back onto the edge of the bed. She climbed up and straddled me, wrapping her arms around my neck. She looked into my eyes. "That was very good." She smiled sweetly. "Now come on. I need hangover food and my comfies."

We spent the rest of the morning on the sofa, together under a blanket. I was glowing inside. Ashleigh had been smushed in to my side, but sat up cross legged suddenly and turned front on to me.

"We need to have a conversation."

I raised my eyebrows.

"Nothing bad. Just honest." She smiled warmly. "I like you Robert. You are a nice guy. And good fun too. But us..." she gestured back and forth between us "isn't a thing, if that makes sense. I like spending time with you. And I'd like that to continue." She lowered her voice and smiled "It turns out you are a good fuck too. But I don't want a relationship. In the old fashioned sense. I just wanted to be clear, just so we are on the same page. Is that okay?"

I smiled at her. "Sure. Danny warned me."

It was her turn to look surprised.

"He said not to fall in love with you. You're a heartbreaker."

She smiled gently. "Danny is a big softie, for a guy who Newsmax once described as a glorified pimp. Seriously though. He's right. I'm not girlfriend material. Anyway. Back to the TV. You want to watch the daytime soaps? Or will I get my laptop out and find us something really good to watch?"

I headed home at lunch time. I had an editorial video call in the late afternoon, and I realised I best get cleaned up. The magazine's porn edition was coming together well. Milo was delighted when I told him about the access Ashleigh had given me (tactically excluding the hand job and anal sex).

"So we can't go with the broken girl getting exploited story. What you've got sounds even better though." I ended the call feeling encouraged and a bit naughty as well.

That evening. I got an email from Kristina Fox.

"Dear Journalist.

Thank you for your enquiry.

Firstly, it is none of your business whether I am in Los Angeles, Budapest or elsewhere.

I have said everything I have to say about the pornography industry and the manner in which they have besmirched my legacy.

I made something real.

They are all frauds.

Now it's just little whores faking orgasms for fat old men who think they are auteurs. I have no interest in discussing this further.

Yours,

Kristina"

I read the e-mail twice. The fact was that she had replied. It was a handhold. Not much. But something.

I replied.

"Dear Kristina,

Thanks for your prompt and polite reply.

I think you underestimate how valued your legacy is amongst some of the newer generation of performers. You are recognised as a transformative performer who reshaped the industry and the role of a woman in it.

I would love to discuss the impact you had and its ongoing influence, I think that the story would help cement your status as amongst the most influential women in the history of the industry.

Regards,

Robert"

She replied within ten minutes.

"Keep talking."

"Easy" I thought.

I e-mailed back, explaining my assignment following Ashleigh, Ashleigh's hero worship of her, and my hope to interview her and have her meet Ashleigh.

Her reply was not encouraging.

"I do not know this girl. But why would I want to meet some little wannabe imposter slut?

I thought you were wanting to write something credible and serious. Now I am doubtful."

I tried again. I flattered her. Suggested I had only broached it due to Ashleigh's idolisation of her, that she would like to hear how highly she was thought of.

She didn't reply that night. The next morning though, an e-mail appeared in my inbox.

"Here are my conditions.

You come alone.

You do not bring any recording device.

You may take written notes, but I wish to read them before you leave. If I am in any way unhappy with the notes I will withdraw my consent and notify my attorneys.

I will make sixty minutes of my time available to you on Wednesday at 6pm."

I actually punched the air. I phoned Ashleigh immediately. I knew she would be disappointed, but it was an opening. I was confident if I had the chance to speak to Kristina I could persuade her.

Ashleigh's phone rang out. I didn't try again. I jumped in my car and drove over there. I was so excited I burst in the door without thinking.

"Ashleigh..."

I stopped dead.

Ashleigh was down on the floor. Cali was sitting up with her legs open, back propped against the sofa. Ashleigh had her face buried in Cali's pussy. I noticed in a weird bit of synchronicity, they were both wearing white singlets, pulled up above their breasts. Cali turned to me and smiled with lidded eyes. She put her finger to her lips.

I stood and watched. I could hear the wet sounds of Ashleigh lapping at Cali. Cali gave a long moan.

I was transfixed. It was so tender and loving the way Ashleigh ate her. I thought of the demolition she performed on Cali in their movie scene together. What was happening here couldn't have been more different. Cali moaned again and again now, her head rolling back. "Oh fuck Ash... oh fuck... oh fuck...". Cali cried out as she came. Ashleigh stayed between her legs for a long time, then I heard her start to moan too. I realised that Ashleigh was using a toy on herself. She lifted her head and saw me for the first time. Her eyes closed in pleasure. She rolled onto her side, still between Cali's thighs and cocked her left leg up. I could see she was holding an air pressure toy on her clit. She gasped and shook as the orgasm overcame her, Cali stroking her hair and cooing to her throughout.

After she had composed herself Ashleigh pulled on a pair of panties and sat on the sofa. Cali excused herself to take a shower.

"Okay. I have good news and not so great news..." Ashleigh looked up at me expectantly. Her cheeks were still flushed. "Kristina has agreed to meet me." Her mouth fell open in excited delight. "Wait... there's more. The less good bit... she's insisting I come alone."

She smiled back at me. "That's okay. It's a start. Tell me what she said!"

I recounted the e-mail exchange, omitting the bit where she called Ashleigh a wannabe imposter slut.

Ashleigh listened rapt. "Okay. I'm going to have to coach you before you go to see her. What to say and not to say!"

I smiled. "I'm a professional journalist, Ashleigh. I think I'll be okay..."

She smiled at me sardonically "Okay... don't say I didn't warn you though..."

I shook my head. "Sounds portentous." I frowned. "What were you and Cali up to anyway?"

Ashleigh sighed. "Ivana and her have fallen out. It's been coming. Ivana has temporarily relocated. So I thought I would do something nice for her to cheer her up..."

I gave a little laugh. "She looked pretty happy."

Ashleigh giggled. "I know what I'm doing."

I hung about for a couple of hours. We chatted about nothing much, had a coffee then I got ready to leave. "You know this stuff is important to my story? The flavour of your life... Understatement of the year, but I'm probably on pretty shaky ground in terms of keeping my distance from you as a subject. But at the same time, I think I've got to know you a bit. And I'm more likely to write something sympathetic because of that."

She laughed. "The hustle never stops. You're going to have to do without me for the next two days though. I'm off to Vegas for an expo. I'll send you pics. And you need to phone me as soon as you've spoken to Kristina and tell me everything!" Her eyes sparkled.

I agreed and headed off.

The following day I made arrangements with Kristina.

She was going to send a car for me. Something made me uncomfortable with her knowing where I lived and I insisted on being picked up from the office rather than home.

The appointed time arrived and the car appeared, a large saloon type thing. It peeped its horn once unnecessarily.

When I got downstairs to the vehicle, two men occupied the front seats. The driver was a bear of a man in a black suit. He had no discernible neck.

His cohort was dressed identically, and shared the same cropped hair as his counterpart but was even taller and broader.

The driver nodded to the rearview mirror as I got in and drove off before I was buckled in.

No one spoke as the car wound its way into the hills behind downtown, eventually stopping outside a large modern villa.

The guy in the passenger seat climbed out, opened my door and ushered me towards the entrance of the house.

He pushed the door open and pointed me to a door on the right, off the extravagant marbled hallway.

Once in the room I took stock. In spite of the bright evening outside, the heavy emerald green velvet drapes were drawn. The floor was marble, different from the hallway, a more silvery colour. The furniture was heavy and ornate. A side table showed pictures of Kristina being presented with awards. A large photorealistic portrait that I recognised as being her hung on the mantle piece.

I decided I needed a seat. I settled on a green velvet sofa; for some reason I was dissuaded from sitting on the high backed armchair next to the side table.

I heard the clacking of heels approach the room. I stood awkwardly in front of the sofa.

She wafted into the doorway of the room. I gasped dumbly for a second. She was an astonishing looking woman. Tall and slim, but in no way delicate looking. In her heels she was eye to eye with me. She was wearing an elegant black dress, made just a little distracting by a mesh panel at the collar that showed the deep cleavage blooming below. Her jet black hair was loose around her shoulders.

She fixed me with a gaze that would have melted glass. "So - you are the journalist. Sit." She gestured to the sofa. Her accent had an icy Slavic edge to it.

I watched as she crossed the room slowly, before settling into the armchair, crossing her long legs elegantly.

She sat for a moment. Just as the silence became uncomfortable she spoke. "I hope you appreciate the sacrifice I have made both in terms of my time and my privacy. I don't give up either readily."

I nodded a little too quickly. "Of course, it goes without saying your time is greatly appreciated..."

"And my privacy."

"Yes... that too. I'm so happy you agreed to speak to me Miss Fox, and I hope we can do you justice in the feature." I sounded like a crawling little sycophant, but in truth, based on sheer presence alone, she was the most intimidating woman I had ever met

She smiled coldly. "That's not my name."

I stammered "Sorry...?"

"Fox. It's a stage name."

"My apologies. What should I call you?"

She smiled mirthlessly "What would you like to call me? Miss? Madam?" She lent forward. Her smile widened into a leer. "Mistress?"

I swallowed. "Erm... would Kristina be alright? I find the less formal approach puts everyone at ease."

She wafted her hand as if it was no concern. "Very well. You are aware you are wasting your already limited time on formalities?"

I took a breath. "You are right. The reason I wanted to speak to you today was about a piece I am writing for The Journal, on the adult film industry. Your name has come up repeatedly during my discussions and interviews as a revolutionary and polarising figure in the industry."

She scoffed "Polarising? Yes, amongst those who tried to exploit me maybe."

I soldiered on. "My assignment has been to shadow an up and coming young performer making her way in the industry. From day one she has cited you as her primary influence..."

She smiled benevolently "Ah yes. This was the little slut you were threatening to bring along today? What is her name?"

For some reason I felt anxious. "Ashleigh Moon."

She picked up a tablet from the side table. And started tapping on the screen. I could guess what she was doing.

"Hmm. Pretty. Pointless. You are in love with her aren't you?"

I was slightly wrong footed. "I've developed a good working relationship with her..."

She snorted with amusement. "So you are fucking her and are kidding yourself on it's some form of Gonzo journalism?" She shook her head in mock disappointment. "What do you possibly think could be gained from me meeting your little..." she was weighing the word carefully "fuckhole?"

She looked me up and down. "She obviously has poor taste and little class." She sneered. "So we've ascertained that she was happy to fuck you for a few column inches. Why are you here?" She held my gaze with her dark green eyes. "To see if I will fuck you too?"

I blushed. "No..."

She butted straight in. "So you don't want to fuck me?" She looked down at herself like she couldn't understand

I cringed - I had no idea what to say.

She gave me the most unfriendly smile I've ever been exposed to.

I tried again. "Ashleigh is part of a generation of women that worship you as a performer. I thought it would be an interesting exercise to bring the two of you together, compare your experiences and perspectives..."

She grunted dismissively "What could I possibly have in common with one of these hookers who sells nude pictures taken on a mobile phone for 99 cents."

I sensed an opening. "Ashleigh actually doesn't have an Onlyfans account or suchlike. She has spoken quite publicly about how poor quality home made content is undermining the art of serious performers."

For a moment Kristina raised her eyebrows. But then her face settled back into its expression of contemptuous scorn. "Serious performers? She certainly thinks highly of herself."

"I think the two of you have a lot in common. You've both come from challenging backgrounds in remote places..."

She cut me off. "Don't presume to know me. Challenging background? Was she born in a place where one in five children died at birth? Where her mother was told by a doctor who was too drunk to operate anywhere else to abort her in case she was born with defects? Where the people who made the mess cut and run and left the people with nothing but pollution and corruption? I watched my papa drink himself to death when I was barely older than a toddler. My mama died before I was a teenager. I had to fend for myself. I had to do dreadful things to survive. So don't dare tell me that your little whore has had it difficult!" She was genuinely furious.

She caught her breath eventually. She smiled mockingly. "You Americans. You think having to drive a town over to visit Walmart is traumatic. So bring her. Bring your little slut. And we'll see how much we have in common." She looked tired suddenly. A frown furrowed her brow. She held her hand to it. "Now get out. I'll review your notes after our next meeting." She shouted something in Russian and dismissed me with a wave of her perfectly manicured hand as the driver appeared.

I went back into the office after the driver dropped me off. When I checked my phone there was a message from Ashleigh: "thought you might appreciate my outfit... x" Attached was a picture of Ashleigh evidently manning a stall for a meet and greet. Danny was in the background. She was wearing a bright blue PVC minidress, connected with clips to a set of white stockings. Clearly visible were matching pink PVC panties. Her hair was tied up on a high ponytail with a braid looped through it and sprayed with glitter, which matched her over the top make-up. She looked gorgeous.

I texted back to that effect. I didn't want to interrupt her at work so I added one other sentence: "Kristina wants to meet you." I felt a sense of foreboding as I sent it.

Ten minutes later I got a reply: "OMG. I fucking love you Robert!" A flurry of emojis followed, which was quite out of character "I'm back tomorrow afternoon. Come over to the house. I need to know everything x"

I arrived at Ashleigh's the next afternoon. Cali let me in, pointing me towards Ashleigh's room.

"I'm getting ready. Come in."

Ashleigh was standing over the bed in, what was for her a fairly tame plain navy blue cotton underwear set. Her hair was loose, and she had no make up on. She was wearing her glasses. She looked like the girl next door. She was standing in front of a pile of clothes on the bed.

"What's happening?" I asked.

"I have a photoshoot later. One of the big production companies that I've shot a few scenes for wants to do a "Best of Ashleigh Moon" DVD - they are going to include some postcards and things, try and incentivise people to buy the physical release. So I need at least four outfits that show different versions of me."

I smiled. "Oh this is quality journalistic insight! What four Ashleighs are we getting?"

She giggled. "We've got dominant Ashleigh." She held up a spiked dog collar and a black PVC basque. "We've got submissive Ashleigh." She brandished a frilly white and pink bra and panties set, with a pink leather collar, with an o-ring and the word "slave" written on it in diamante. "Then there's nasty Ashleigh..." She picked up what turned out to be a pink fishnet bodystocking and a bright blue micro bikini. "I'm just trying to settle on the look for 'cute Ashleigh' - you can help!"

I looked at her quizzically.

"Turn your back for a couple of minutes. I'm going to try something on, then get your verdict."

I turned and faced the back of the door.

"So while I'm changing I want everything. The full Kristina story."

I told her everything. About Kristina's home, how she looked, her hostility. Ashleigh giggled when I told her Kristina had called her a "fuck hole."

"You know that actually gets me quite hot..."

"Ashleigh, she's not a nice person. I'm sorry. I know she's your hero, but I'd seriously question if any good can come from you meeting her. We've a good story here. Positive. Injecting this angry, bitter woman into it isn't going to make it better."

Her voice from over my shoulder was assertive. "Fuck the story Robert. Write what you like. I trust you. But this is for me. I need to meet her."

I shrugged my back at her. "Okay. I've said my bit"

"Thanks. Really. For caring. But I can look after myself. So when?"

I told the truth. "I don't know. She kind of dismissed me with no concrete plan."

Ashleigh sighed. "You should have pinned her down... okay turn round in 3... 2... 1..."

She was wearing the little plaid skirt that I'd admired before. Above it was a pale pink blouse with navy blue piping and a pair of white knee socks. She had tied her hair into two bunches and was still wearing her glasses. "Ta da." She deadpanned. "Do I look suitably corruptible?"

I took her in. "You look incredible."

She smiled. "I know. I'd actually tried this on earlier. But I thought you should see it. Your reward for finding her..." She stepped closer to me looking up, her lips parted, she whispered: "Imagine taking me to Kristina dressed like this... telling her I'm your little fuckhole... and she can use me however she wants... what do you think she would do to me...?"

"I dread to think..."

She continued whispering. "I don't. I think about it all the time. All of things she could do to me. After we watched her scene with Oscar and Lily, I imagined being Lily..." She looked up at me. "I imagined you were Oscar." She rubbed the front of my trousers. "I imagined you dominating me with your fat dick..." She started undoing my trousers and crouched in front of me. "I want you to fuck my face. Make me really messy. Get my glasses steamed up. She opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out, looking up at me expectantly.

I took my cock and took a tentative stroke into her mouth. She shook her head. "No. Like in the video. Rough. Nasty." She presented the two ponytails to me. "Pull these and wreck my pretty little face."

I gripped the ponytails and tried to simulate Oscar's face fucking technique. Ashleigh took my cock no problem. Some drool spilled out her mouth. I withdrew my cock. "Better. But don't hold back. I'm completely submitting to you here." She gave a little smile. "Remember, I'm your little fuckhole."

I shoved my cock into her mouth with more confidence. I copied the technique from the video, grasping the base of my cock and waggling it in her mouth. She gagged hard. Spit streamed out her mouth. I withdrew my cock.

"Again!"

I repeated the motion. She gagged even harder this time. I withdrew. Her chin was caked in drool.

"Once more."

I did it a further time. She retched. I pulled my cock out. More drool streamed out. She grabbed my hips and bobbed on my cock, taking my full length in her mouth, looking up at me the whole time, her eyes streaming.

She broke away and clambered onto the bed on her back. She lifted the tiny skirt. Of course she had nothing underneath. "Fuck me" she gasped.

I pulled her over to the edge of the bed by her thighs and pushed into her. She was soaking wet. I took a couple of strokes.

She looked up at me through her glasses "Rougher. Fold me up. Use me."

I pushed her legs back so her ass was up in the air and took the hardest stroke I could. She looked up at me through her glasses smiling. "That's it. Pound me"

I started to fuck her hard. Instead of her usual energetic performance she just lay there gasping. "That's it. Harder." I felt her hand creep round beside my cock. I realised she was fingering her asshole. "Ooh fuck that's so good. Fuck me nasty."

I pushed against her, forcing her ass higher and grabbed her shoulders. I'd never fucked someone this hard before. The long strokes were making me seriously aroused and Ashleigh's complete compliance was a massive turn on.

She groaned. "That's so good. I want you to come in my wet cunt. Flood me with your come. I'm just your little fuckhole."

That was too much for me. I took one more deep stroke and then held my cock deep in her as I pumped a huge load in her. She held eye contact with me throughout, her fingers still working her asshole as I came.

I pulled out after a moment. She reached down and with the hand that wasn't at her anus started scooping up the come that was oozing out of her. She took the first handful and brought it to her mouth, licking it off her fingers indulgently, before returning her hand to her pussy. She massaged the rest of the load into herself, as she started to rub her pussy in time with her asshole. "You are going to take me to her. And I'm going to make her fuck me... oh fuck." I knelt between her knees and watched as she made herself come.

Afterwards she cleaned herself up. She sat up and kissed me on the cheek. "You need to arrange the meet. I've never wanted something so much."

When I got home I e-mailed Kristina. She replied that night: "Two days time. 9PM. Bring her."

I arranged for both of us to be picked up from the office and communicated this to Ashleigh.

Two nights later we waited in the vestibule of the office. I had been surprised at Ashleigh's outfit. She was wearing a pink blazer, a tight black blouse, a short black skirt, nylons and heels, with glasses, a different pair from normal, with thick plastic rims. I raised my eyebrows when she walked in.

"What? Did you think I was going to walk in wearing just a pair of panties with 'make me your fuck hole' monogrammed on them? I'm going in there as her equal. So I need to dress the part for it."

I smiled nervously.

The car appeared. The same performance as last time. The silent journey. Ushered into the reception room. I watched Ashleigh drinking it all in. She looked rapt. I sat on the sofa again. Ashleigh walked round the room, looking at the pictures, the ornaments, the giant portrait, before sitting next to me. I could feel the buzz of excitement emanating from her.

Presently the sound of heels on the marble floor approached the room.

Kristina strutted in. Her hair was tied into a severe ponytail. Her makeup was noticeably more dramatic than my last visit. She was wearing a tight black PVC dress that zipped up to her throat at the front and fishnet stockings. The dress was short enough that when she sat several inches of bare flesh were visible at the top of her stockings.

Ashleigh shivered with excitement next to me. Kristina didn't even look at her. If the outfit was for her benefit she did a good job of not showing it.

Instead Kristina glared at me. "Notes."

I crossed the room and handed her the notes from the previous meeting. She took a cigarette from a gilded box on the table next to her, lit it and sat back, reading through the notes. The room was quiet for a long time. Kristina stubbed out the cigarette and continued reading.

At length she set the notes down. She looked like she was gathering her thoughts. "Generally acceptable. But there are several glaring inaccuracies and misrepresentations which will need corrected." She gave no indication what these were. I was just about to ask when she turned her gaze on Ashleigh.

"Stand up!"

Ashleigh complied wordlessly.

Kristina rose from her seat and crossed the room to her she circled round her like a hyena with a carcass, a glint of something animal in her eyes.

"Very pretty" she murmured under her breath.

She stopped behind Ashleigh. She was the best part of half a foot taller than her.

"So you are the latest hot young pussy?" The tone was accusatory. Ashleigh stood stock still and said nothing. "Look at you. You think you know everything already." She placed a hand on Ashleigh's shoulder. It was almost proprietary. "But trust me. They will use you. They will ruin you. And they will discard you. Men." She shot me a nasty glance. "You are just another tool to make them money. They'll make you do whatever they want if they think there is profit in it." She leant in to Ashleigh's ear. "And you will do it. Because you think you are the one in control. The pornstar. The queen. The strong woman." Both her hands were on Ashleigh's shoulders now, her fingers at the edge of her throat. "But you know inside that you are just a scared... little... girl..." The last three words were said with maximum coldness, dripping with contempt. "You will do what you are told. Because that's what little girls like you always do."

Suddenly she stepped away from Ashleigh's back, circled round and stood in front of her. "So what are you doing here?"

Ashleigh seemed remarkably composed. "I asked Robert to arrange this because I've always wanted to meet you. You are the performer I most admire. For your intensity. Your honesty." Kristina had turned half away from her and had her hand at her chin, like she was pondering Ashleigh's words deeply. "I think we have a lot in common, whether you realise it or not."

Kristina turned to face her. She didn't say anything but her face contorted into a question.

I wanted to tell Ashleigh to stop speaking, but she continued. "Yes. I think we have the same vision. The same desires. The same hunger."

Kristina continued to look at her questioningly. "The same hunger? You think you have the same hunger as me?"

Ashleigh nodded.

"Let's see then." Kristina suddenly lunged forward. She grabbed Ashleigh by the throat and forced her backwards until the small of her back was pressed against the marble bar in the corner of the room. I was dumbfounded. She held Ashleigh pinned there, her back bowed against the bar, and leant in whispering things I couldn't hear in her ear. She reached down and pulled Ashleigh's skirt up, exposing the black lace G-string she was wearing. She reached down, but instead of caressing her, slapped Ashleigh hard between her legs. Ashleigh squealed. A cruel

smile spread across Kristina's face. "You have no idea what my hunger feels like." Her hand tightened on Ashleigh's throat till she was choking her. "I've watched your little videos. Your little tribute act. I'm going to show you all the things you missed out..." She ripped Ashleigh's blouse open. Buttons scattered. She mauled Ashleigh's breasts though the thin lace of her bra, digging in her nails.

She released her grip on Ashleigh's throat and then grabbed her ponytail, yanking her head about. She slapped her hard across the face then grabbed her cheeks. "Look at your journalist. He's not taken a single note. This was what he really wanted to see. Why he brought you here. He's just a voyeur."

I winced at the accusation.

Kristina yanked Ashleigh's ponytail again. "Open your mouth."

Ashleigh complied. Kristina took the three middle fingers of her hand and forced them into Ashleigh's mouth. She glanced at me contemptuously then drove her fingers into Ashleigh's throat. Ashleigh gagged and spluttered, coughing saliva all over Kristina's hand. She took her hand and moved it down to Ashleigh's pussy. She ripped her panties to the side and started to rub Ashleigh's pussy roughly. She looked at me again. "Your little fuck hole is so wet for me. She loves the way I treat her." She turned back to Ashleigh. "Open!"

Ashleigh opened her mouth. Kristina thrust her hand into her mouth again. She gagged hard, drool cascading out her mouth. Kristina went back to her pussy, frigging her even harder, still gripping her by her hair. Ashleigh gaps became first squeals then something altogether less controlled. Her knees shook as Kristina made her squirt all over the floor.

Kristina smirked. She was almost holding Ashleigh up by her hair. She yanked her forward and released her grip. Ashleigh fell forward hard onto her knees. Kristina knelt behind her. "Clean up your mess little slut." She grabbed Ashleigh by the hair again and forced her face down towards the floor, into the puddle she had just deposited there. She slapped Ashleigh hard on the ass and then just as Ashleigh began to lap the puddle on the floor she thrust her fingers into her from behind and started pumping them in and out of her hard. Ashleigh whinnied.

I watched as she finger fucked Ashleigh viciously, pressing her face into the pool of her own juices on the floor. As Ashleigh's climax approached she yanked her back savagely by the hair so she was on all fours, facing me. Ashleigh squealed and her face contorted as Kristina drew another jet of fluids from her.

Kristina stood over her and placed her foot on Ashleigh's back, pinning her squirming in the puddle of her own squirt. Her remaining clothes were soaked. Kristina smiled broadly. "Look at you little whore, laying in a puddle of your own juices. You love it don't you? The way I fuck you..."

"Yes..." Ashleigh panted. "I fucking love it..."

Kristina's smile broadened. "Good. Because I am far from done with you little slut." Kristina knelt beside her. She scooped a handful of Ashleigh's juices and smeared them into her face, wrecking her already messy make-up. She looked up at me. "Was this what you wanted journalist? To see your little whore ruined on my floor, begging me for more. You watch. I'm going to completely take her apart."

I grimaced but said nothing.

"Beg me slut." Kristina knelt over her again. "Beg me to fuck you even harder."

Ashleigh was a mess, lying prone on the floor. "Please Kristina. Fuck me. Fuck me harder."

Kristina smiled then knelt and ripped her panties to shreds with practiced ease. She slapped Ashleigh's ass hard then reached over the top of her head, put her hand between her lips and pulled her face up by her upper jaw. It looked painful. She reached down between Ashleigh's legs again. "This time I'm going to fuck your ass too. If you bite my fingers I will hurt you."

She grabbed Ashleigh like she was a bowling ball, her fingers in her pussy and her thumb in her asshole and began to work her hard again. Ashleigh's mouth hung open. She squeaked and squealed. She slapped her hands on the floor. Kristina smiled as she pumped her fingers into her relentlessly. Ashleigh came again. Kristina didn't slow her pace at all. She carried on fucking Ashleigh roughly, releasing her grip on her face to concentrate on slapping her ass repeatedly. Ashleigh came again. She actually looked a bit overwhelmed. Kristina leant over the top of her and pinned her down, still continuing her onslaught. Ashleigh was making unbelievable noises now, like a wild animal. Finally after another squirting orgasm, Kristina withdrew her fingers. Ashleigh just lay there. She was a wreck.

Kristina licked her fingers and smiled proudly. "What is wrong little slut? Can't keep up? But I have not had my fun yet!" She rolled an unresisting Ashleigh into her back and l stood over her face. She pulled up the PVC dress. She wasn't wearing any underwear. She squatted down on Ashleigh's face, bringing her smooth pussy to her lips. "Eat me bitch."

She ground herself on Ashleigh's face, gripping her ponytail and glaring at me. "Your little slut needs to learn to eat pussy properly. I will need to train her." She glanced down at Ashleigh who had her face buried in her cunt. "Oh yes. You are mine now fuckhole." She was riding Ashleigh's face now, but remained controlled and composed throughout, even though she was clearly aroused. "My little fuckhole." She hissed. She released her grip on Ashleigh's hair and slapped her hard across the face again. "What do you want fuckhole?"

Ashleigh looked like she was made of jelly. "Fuck me again... please..."

Kristina smiled, pleased. "You don't know when to say stop, do you whore? Very good."

She walked to the bar and lifted an object that I had registered before, and had just thought was another of her tasteless ornaments; a huge marble cock and balls, in the renaissance style, which I had assumed to be a paperweight. She held the huge phallus up beside her face, displaying it for Ashleigh's benefit.

"So heavy. So cold. Are you ready for my cock little slut?"

To my horror Ashleigh nodded with enthusiasm.

Kristina smiled. "I'm going to fuck your ass with this until you scream."

I felt things were going too far. Ashleigh was obviously never going to back down from any sort of challenge Kristina threw at her, and I was starting to doubt there was a limit to Kristina's cruelty. "Ashleigh..."

Kristina turned on me. "Shut up journalist. You only brought a notebook today to cover your pathetic little erection. This is what you wanted..."

Before I could argue Ashleigh spoke. Her voice sounded hoarse. "Robert... if you don't like what you are seeing then just go..."

I groaned. I knew I wasn't going to leave. Due to care for Ashleigh? Maybe. But I couldn't lie. I'd never been more turned on.

Kristina grabbed Ashleigh and pulled her into a squat on the floor. She stood behind her and caressed Ashleigh's make up smeared face. "Good slut." She looked at me. "She is mine now."

She positioned the giant cock on its end under Ashleigh again. "Now fuck it. With your ass."

Ashleigh shifted and pressed down in the head of the huge thing. I watched as she stretched wide to accommodate it. "Oh my fucking god..." she slowed. Kristina pressed down on her shoulders, preventing her pulling away. "Fuck it bitch. Take it all"

Ashleigh started to slide up and down on the thing, her face was one I had never seen, like she was elsewhere. She looked ecstatic.

After a few minutes of this Kristina stopped her. "Too gentle. I thought you could take it!" She roughly pushed Ashleigh onto her back and spread her legs wide. She grabbed the cock in both hands and pushed it against Ashleigh, forcing it back into her asshole, deep and stretched. Ashleigh screamed as Kristina started working the thing in and out of her hard and relentlessly. "Look at you. Letting me rearrange your guts. Just to prove to me how tough you are. You aren't tough. You are my little toy now."

Ashleigh's screams coalesced into a single long wail. When she was done Kristina pulled the cock out of her. Ashleigh's anus gaped obscenely.

Kristina dropped the phallus on the floor with a heavy clunk, walked to her armchair, sat and lit a cigarette, leaving Ashleigh lying on the floor in front of her.

"Time to go journalist." She said coldly. I got up and moved to Ashleigh.

"Come on..." I went to help her up.

"No." Kristina said simply. "She stays. You have your story. This is my fee."

I looked down at Ashleigh. Her torn blouse was still hanging off her shoulders. Her face was a mess. She was dripping in her own fluids. "Ashleigh..."

She smiled at me. "No. You go."

I looked at her in horror.

"I want to stay."

I hesitated, unsure what to do. Kristina made the decision for me.

"Alexei..." one of her goons appeared. "Take the journalist home." The goon started walking towards me. I went before things turned nasty.

That night I had no idea what to do. I texted Ashleigh. "Let me know you are okay."

No response.

I texted again during the night - I couldn't sleep. "I'm worried Ashleigh. Please text me."

By the next morning, still nothing.

I texted Cali. Ashleigh hadn't been home.

Later that evening Cali texted me back. Two men had come. Scary looking guys. They had gone into Ashleigh's room, filled a bag with her things then left.

I was getting to the point that I wondered if I should get the authorities involved.

I texted Danny.

He didn't reply, but late the next evening I got a message back. "Don't worry. I can't say too much. But all good. Looking forward to seeing the article. D."

It was both reassuring and not in its lack of specificity.

But I had an article to write. I tried not to think of Ashleigh. I worked over the following week on piecing my notes together. It read well. I submitted it to glowing praise from Milo and the rest of the team.

Our press date was set. I sent a copy to Ashleigh, not expecting a response. But a few hours later my phone lit up.

"Oh my god. It's incredible. Thank you so much. Kristina and I both love it! xxx"

I was still digesting this when a further message arrived. "I've got something special to show you. Soon. You'll love it! xxx"

I read both messages again, still digesting the "Kristina and I" from the first message.

The porn valley edition was published to critical buzz and acclaim. My article, "The Last Queen of Hardcore?" was singled out for particular praise. There was talk of award nominations.

Two weeks later a parcel arrived at the office for me. I opened it. A DVD. On the front was a yellow sticker. "Pre-release. Uncut. Not for sharing or redistribution."

The banner at the top of the cover declared: "An Alessio Antonelli Production."

At the foot in, a silver gothic script the title: "When Kristina met Ashleigh." Below it in smaller white text was the blurb: "The Living Legend. The Girl Who Would be Queen. Two Women. Three Hours. No Limits."

Above, against a black background, Ashleigh was kneeling, in a frilly white underwear set. She looked cute and chaste, her blonde hair tumbling round her shoulders, a sweet smile on her face. Kristina loomed behind her. Standing, legs akimbo, wearing a black PVC bikini and leather gloves, her hair in a severe high ponytail. She wasn't smiling.

I made my excuses and went home.

I dumped my bag, jacket and shoes in the hall. I slotted the DVD into my dust covered player and eventually found the remote in a drawer.

The movie opened in a dungeon type setting. The camera zoomed in from faraway. A female figure. Nude. Shackled hand and foot to the wall, her ass pointing out. Just as the realisation hit me that it wasn't Ashleigh, she stalked into frame. Her hair was in the same box plaits she had worn in her scene with Cali. She was nude apart from a cross of black tape on each nipple, and the same two pronged strap on configuration from that scene.

Kristina turned from the wall to look at her, a ring gag secured tightly in her mouth, clamps on both of her nipples, joined by a weighted silver chain.

Ashleigh smirked at her. She picked up a riding crop and moved behind Kristina. "Are you ready for my way to love bitch?"

Kristina nodded compliantly. I couldn't believe my eyes. Over the next thirty minutes Ashleigh administered a fucking to Kristina, the like of which I had never seen. She slapped. She bit. She choked. She spat and pinched and nipped and pulled hair. Kristina, gagged throughout, took everything she threw at her. The sequence finished with Kristina lying on the floor, her hands cuffed behind her back. Her asshole gaped from the fucking Ashleigh had administered - at one point both of the dildos had been roughly inserted in her anus.

Ashleigh stood over her, a foot on either side of her face and released a stream of thick yellow piss directly onto her face. When she was done she knelt and kissed Kristina's face, before removing the gag.

I waited for the scene to fade out. It didn't. I realised the three hours was one continuous take.

Kristina took over.

She got Ashleigh on all fours and put a collar and leash on her. She forced her to lick her own piss off the dirty floor. She took her to a dark corner of the room. She made her kneel. She ripped off the tape covering Ashleigh's nipples and tugged viciously on her nipple rings. Ashleigh screamed. Kristina slapped her roughly across the face then squeezed her cheeks "Shut up bitch!"

She pushed Ashleigh right into the corner. The camera zoomed in on ancient dusty cobwebs full of bug carcasses in the cornicing. "Clean it!" Kristina ordered.

I watched in fascinated disgust as Ashleigh licked up the cobwebs, gasping and choking as she did. Kristina laughed at the complete degradation.

By this point Kristina was wearing the double strap on. She got Ashleigh on all fours and, pulling the leash tight, dragged her to an ancient WC at the back of the room. The toilet bowl looked like it hadn't been used in years. It looked like it hadn't been cleaned in even longer. "Lick it bitch."

Ashleigh stuck her face in the bowl and lapped, looking up at the camera as she did.

Kristina crouched over her and started fucking Ashleigh from behind roughly with both dildos, dunking her face into the rank toilet water as she did.

She fucked Ashleigh for a long time like this - hard and vicious strokes. She held the toilet seat down on the back of Ashleigh's neck periodically, choking her, before dunking her in the toilet again. She smiled cruelly throughout.

She finished by holding Ashleigh's face in the water for an inordinately long time. Ashleigh had been calm previously, but suddenly started to thrash panickedly. Kristina yanked her back by the leash and dumped her on her ass on the floor, before strutting back into the main room. The camera stayed on Ashleigh, gasping and choking on the floor, before following her in Kristina's wake.

Kristina was waiting for her on a metal framed bed with a table in front of it. Arrayed on it was a huge range of toys - dildos, plugs, snakes and more. As the camera panned to her Kristina popped a huge red buttplug into her own ass.

A similarly huge black plug was sitting on the table, along with a big plastic syringe full of lube. Ashleigh collected them and handed them to Kristina, climbing on to the bed and straddling Kristina in a 69 position. Ashleigh bent and started licking Kristina's pussy intently. The camera panned up her back. Kristina had inserted the syringe into her ass and was slowing pushing down the plunger. Ashleigh stopped and gasped before resuming her feasting on Kristina. The camera panned back to Ashleligh's ass. Some of the viscous cloudy liquid dripped out. Kristina took the stem of the plug between her teeth and using her mouth forced in the huge plug without any preamble. Ashleigh buckled and screamed, but then went back to Kristina's pussy.

Kristina's pussy was literally dripping. I had never seen anything like it, and she was making loud guttural moans, like she was on the brink of coming. Ashleigh continued to eat, increasing the ferocity of her movements. Kristina came. There was a soaked patch forming under her ass on the bed.

She recovered quickly though. The camera returned to Ashleigh's ass. Kristina was tugging the huge buttplug loose. Ashleigh's ass stretched wide. Suddenly the plug popped loose. Ashleigh shat a huge stream of the thick lube all over Kristina's face. Kristina had opened her mouth in anticipation, however the stream covered her face from her forehead to her chin. It was matted in her hair and trickling down the sides of her neck. As Kristina gasped Ashleigh pulled out Kristina's plug, hard and rough. The older woman screamed.

What happened next I'm pretty sure was definitely unscripted. Both women sat up on the bed facing each other. Ashleigh reached up as if to grab Kristina by the hair, but Kristina caught her wrist. There was a brief struggle then Kristina grabbed Ashleigh's other arm and powered her down onto the bed, using her body to pin her there. She just lay there for a moment, looming above Ashleigh, looking down, before leaning down and kissing her hard, covering Ashleigh in some of the lube she was smeared in. The camera zoomed in on the passionate kiss.

It was Kristina who broke it. Ashleigh took the opportunity, twisted and slipped out from under her so she was sitting behind Kristina on the bed. She smiled cutely.

Kristina wheeled with a look of fury and smacked Ashleigh full-force across the face. Ashleigh recoiled for a second then spat a thick mouthful of saliva straight into Kristina's face.

Kristina for her part didn't even flinch. She scooped the spit off her face and smeared onto Ashleigh's already dishevelled face. Ashleigh smiled again and then slapped Kristina so hard her head snapped to the side.

Kristina turned back to the camera. She was smiling at Ashleigh. There was the same hunger and lust from earlier, but there was something else in her eyes as she looked at Ashleigh. Pure adoration.

There wasn't time to bask in this. Ashleigh grabbed a massive, thick double ended dildo. She shoved one end in her mouth and gagged herself with it before pulling it out. She did it again, but this time Kristina grabbed the opposite end and practically inhaled it. In spite of the toy's fearsome length they met in the middle, their lips touching before both pulling back, retching. They repeated this, then took turns gagging each other with it, drawing huge streamers of saliva from each other's throats. Inevitably it ended up with them on all fours, ass to ass, sliding up and down the dildo, the one predictable beat in the scene so far.

However, they closed the scene with something I had never seen before. Ashleigh lay on her side on the bed. Kristina started fingering her pussy. This escalated until Kristina was fisting her. With her right hand still inserted in Ashleigh's cunt, she started working the fingers of her left hand into Ashleigh's asshole. She increased one at a time, until her other fist was in Ashleigh's anus. She pistoned her hands, alternating one then another as Ashleigh threw her head back and wailed.

Kristina shifted until she was lying on her side next to Ashleigh like a yin-yang symbol. Ashleigh slipped her fist into Kristina's soaking pussy, then repeated Kristina's actions until her fist was buried deep in Kristina's asshole. Thus configured they fisted each other hard. Ashleigh was practically elbow deep in Kristina's ass. Kristina started to withdraw and reinsert her hand in Ashleigh's anus harder and harder until she was basically just punching in and out of her.

After several minutes of this both girls came, almost simultaneously. They both withdrew their hands and lay next to each other gasping. They clambered onto their knees. Kristina took her left hand and shoved in her own mouth, gagging hard. Ashleigh took Kristina's right hand and crammed it into her mouth, allowing Kristina to gag her with it. The scene faded to black.

When it faded back up the two were sitting side by side on a sofa, Ashleigh in a fluffy cotton bathrobe, Kristina in a slinky black silk one, which her breasts were hanging out of.

A voice off camera asked the girls how they were feeling. Kristina spoke first. Smiling she slung her arm around Ashleigh's shoulder. "I fucking love this girl. She is my nasty little bitch."

Ashleigh gasped, mock offended and then leant in, kissing Kristina sloppily on the cheek. "I'm your fucking queen!"

The two started kissing passionately, almost unaware of the camera. The interviewer asked another question. I wasn't listening. I was watching the two of them, holding hands, beaming.

So what happened next...?

"When Kristina met Ashleigh" swept the Adult Video Awards. It won best movie and best scene. Ashleigh won best starlet. Kristina won a lifetime achievement award. She didn't attend the ceremony.

Alessio Antonelli never made another movie. He died of a heart attack three months later. He left his production company to Ashleigh, who ran it successfully with Kristina in the years that followed.

Johnny Liberty was sentenced to 3 years in prison for drugs and DUI offences. He died in prison from liver disease.

My editor, Milo, won acclaim for the porn edition. He landed a job as a senior executive at Sinclair Media, notable for his puritanical and ultra conservative editorial stance, even among such rarified company.

Danny's agency grew into the largest in the porn industry, before branching out into representing influencers and mainstream content creators.

My article led to me being a finalist for a Pulitzer. I didn't win, but the attention meant that I could freelance without having to worry about hunting for commissions, freeing me up to work on a book project. I bought a home in Humboldt County, and renovated it with my new wife, Cali. But that's a story for another day.