​"This car now smells pussy," Two-bit joked with a booming laugh as Sasha and I got into the Raptor.

​I ignored him, getting in beside him in the passenger seat.

​He raised his hands. "Why are you grumpy? You don't look like someone who just had a threesome."

​Sasha laughed, buckling her seatbelt in the back.

​"Why are you laughing, ma'am? Was he a terrible fuck? Did he bust his nut quickly?" Two-bit said in a curious voice, looking at Sasha in the rearview mirror.

​"I wasn't part of the scene, man, I was outside the script," I told him quickly before Sasha could say it, my face burning.

​"Damn, so you were just standing there watching shit happen and getting extra horny and shit?" he said. Then he roared into a laughter that rocked the car. "That's painful, bro, watching women fuck in front of you but you can't join them... I hate being you...."

​"Just drive the fucking car," I said, trying to dismiss the topic. Sasha deliberately joined in on the laughter from the back seat, kicking my seat gently.

​The whole journey back home was a pain as they kept throwing jokes related to the exclusion from the scene. My irritation was palpable, but deep down, I knew they were right. It was painful to be excluded, especially with a size increase that needed immediate testing.

​"Be here tomorrow, same time I picked up today. Be ready when I get here," Two-bit said as we got off his car.

​"I will be ready," I told him, then followed Sasha. I caught up to her as she was unlocking her door.

​"I wanted to talk to you, Sasha, but I couldn't get the chance since you spent most of your time with your new rich client," I said.

​She paused, then rolled her eyes. "I told you she's just a client. I didn't know she was part of Red Eye's crew. Even if I did, it's not your business who I sleep with. I have got nothing to do with whatever you got yourself into."

​I paused, studying her, watching the color on her cheeks. She was furious. She was right, though. I didn't own her.

​"You look cute when you are angry," I said, taking a closer step. I put my hand on her cheek. "You are right, Sasha. I shouldn't pry into your business. I'm sorry. We just got wrapped in an entirely different conversation. I want to talk about my business."

​I kept my voice level and professional, shifting the tone entirely.

​I could see her lightening up, her anger subsiding into curiosity.

​"You are doing phenomenal work, Sasha. Your professionalism and on-camera presence are exceptional. I'm genuinely impressed with your talent and reliability," I said.

​"Can you just cut the chase and get to the point?" she said, though the hostility was gone.

​I removed my hand on her cheek, then inhaled deeply.

​"I need your help, Sasha," I said. "I told you that I owe Big Mom a serious amount of money, and the repayment clock is running out fast."

​"You need money then?" she cut in.

​"No... I mean, yes... But not directly from you," I said. "The two scenes we've produced generated great initial revenue, but to hit a million dollars in monthly recurring revenue, I need scale. I need to move beyond single-scene productions at a rented condo."

​"So what kind of help do you need then?" she asked, her arms crossing, suddenly intrigued.

​"I'm establishing a production studio. I need a constant flow of high-quality content. What I need from you, Sasha, is your professional network. I need reliable, experienced talent—women who are active in sex work and who are willing to commit to regular shoots for high, guaranteed pay."

​"Oh," She said, her faced almost surprised by the sudden, massive business proposal.

​"I need volume, Sasha," I pressed, keeping my voice urgent. "If you can source the girls, I can guarantee the paychecks. Think of it: consistent, guaranteed income for your colleagues. I need five professional talents on retainer in the next two weeks to launch this studio properly. You know the best; can you make the introductions?"

​Sasha chewed on her lip, calculating. "I know several girls who fit that profile exactly. They're professional, they understand contracts, and they're looking for stability. I can definitely try and convince them to sign on. They trust my judgment."

​"Fantastic. What do I owe you for this kind of recruitment?"

​Sasha's smile was sharp and businesslike. "If I'm building your studio's talent foundation, I need a piece of the action. I need a small cut—a talent agent fee, really. 15% of the gross payment of every girl I bring in, for their first three scenes only. That percentage ensures I bring you only the best, most reliable talent."

​"Fifteen percent for three scenes? Done," I agreed instantly, mentally calculating the cost versus the exponential growth. "Start making those calls tonight. I need names and availability by the time I pick you up tomorrow."

​I went into my room then immediately began working on the laptop.

​I began by editing the lesbian scene. I quickly scrubbed through the 30-minute raw footage of Jess and Sasha, applying the color grading and quick cuts that made the raw desire feel palpable. Then I worked on the thumbnails, selecting the most provocative shots.

I made a 5-minute sizzle clip for free subscribers—enough to drive them insane—and polished up the full 30-minute scene for my paying subscribers. The entire package was uploaded and automated. I would give Jess her own copy of the scene when I met her tomorrow at the gym.

​After that, I took a shower, the cold water finally dulling the lingering effects of Sasha's ministrations. I came back to sit on the computer and started serious work. I began researching the adult film industry, the pros and cons, and exactly how to open and register a studio. After all, I was expanding and opening a real production house, as I had just promised Big Mom.

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