I was seeing Dickslayer's naked body for the first time. During the interview, she had given me a blowjob with her clothes on, a taste of what she offered.

​She looked way more beautiful without her clothes on. Her body was a testament to the rigorous physical preparation of a professional model: tightly toned, with visible, sculpted definition across her stomach and thighs.

Her breasts were small and exceptionally firm, high-set and perfectly round, ideally suited for the camera's unforgiving lens. The most striking feature, however, was a delicate, intricate tattoo of a coiled serpent that started just above her hip bone and curled down her flank, disappearing precisely where her perfectly groomed pubic area began.

The area itself was neatly trimmed, presented with a stark, clean aesthetic that screamed professionalism, framed by the curves of her strong hips.

​"I really wish that you could stay like that. Without your clothes on. You look fucking beautiful," I said, the words slipping out, genuine and appreciative.

​A slow, sultry smile spread across Dickslayer's face, soaking up the compliment. "That's why I'm worth the money, Druski."

​My cock was already hard, but it wouldn't be professional for me to fuck her outside the set. I wanted to fuck her on camera, keeping it professional and highly profitable.

​"I'm happy that you made it, and I'm sure you're excited to be on camera?" I said, noticing the glow in her eyes. "I can't wait to taste how your pussy tastes."

​"I also wanna know if you can put that D into good use," she said, staring at the bulge in my pants lustfully.

​"Ah, Mr. Druski, when am I scheduled for a shoot?" Willow said, clearing her throat sharply.

​I realized that I had been too focused on Dickslayer's naked body to pay Willow any mind. Willow was Sasha's friend and looked timid, but was now staring at me with a mix of impatience and curiosity.

​"Oh, ahh, sorry Willow. Hi there?" I said awkwardly, turning to face her.

​She smiled. "Don't tell me that you didn't notice me because I had my clothes on?"

​I scratched the back of my head. "No, no, of course not. You look great. You're just... early." I was flustered, which was a new feeling, but I couldn't let it show for long. "But since you are here, that means we need to get you onto the schedule immediately. I'm just about to finalize the production logistics now."

​"That means I can shoot today?" she said in an excited tone, her eyes bright with ambition.

​"Probably. I will have to talk to my new Director and see if he could fix us a scene after I'm done shooting with Dickslayer here," I said, instinctively referring to Holmes as "my new director" to reinforce the hierarchy.

​"Mr. Holmes?" she said, her eyes flashing with a distinct interest.

​"You seem to like him?" I said, arching an eyebrow.

​"I have got a thing for gangsters. I'm attracted to him. Hope working in the same company doesn't forbid us from dating?" Willow said, completely upfront about her feelings.

​"Having tattoos all over your body doesn't make you a gangster," Dickslayer commented dryly from her makeup chair.

​"Lisa's got a point," I said with a smile. "And as for dating your director... I don't forbid it. Just be careful." This was good—happy models meant better performances.

​I turned back to Dickslayer. "Did Mr. Holmes show you the storyboard?"

​She nodded.

​"Did you like it?" I said.

​"It seems too simple but also exciting," she said, reflecting the high-concept, narrative-driven approach Holmes specialized in.

​"Hmm," I said, looking into her eyes. "Okay, get ready. Work on your nerves if you got fear. We start shooting in two hours time."

​I realized I hadn't seen Sasha yet, my primary asset and the key to the multi-scene deal with Jess. "And oh, Ms. Willow... do you know where Sasha could be? I'm failing to get hold of her."

​"I dunno. She never tells nobody where she's going," Willow said casually.

​"When last did you see her?" I pressed, a cold knot tightening in my stomach. Sasha was supposed to be here.

​"About four days ago. She paid me a visit," Willow said.

​Four days ago?. I had only talked to her about 2 days ago.

​"If you get hold of her, please tell me," I said, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. Sasha was crucial.

​"Sure, boss," she said as I walked out of the room. Then she called after me, her voice ringing with flirtation, "Hey, don't forget to consult sexy Mr. Holmes about my shooting schedule."

-----------

I entered the small room designated as my private wardrobe and relaxation space. The room was sparsely but luxuriously furnished, clearly stocked by Monet's crew. A new wardrobe lay on the chaise lounge: a bespoke, expensive-looking CEO suit for the "Hostile Takeover" scene.

I stripped down the towel and started dressing. The expensive wool suit felt unfamiliar yet powerful, a perfect costume for the role I was playing: the ruthless alpha male CEO.

As I buttoned the silk shirt, I caught my reflection. The old Druski's face stared back—now slightly more intense, more focused. The physique was changing: solid muscle, a product of rigorous self-discipline.

I took a deep breath, letting the character of the dominant CEO sink in. This wasn't just about satisfying a sexual urge; it was about directing an intensely profitable piece of art.

From here on forward, I was supposed to move differently. Take my new company to the next heights. To the levels of Brazzers or Bangbros.

Monet had given me the budget, the crew, and the venue; now, I had to deliver the vision.

My phone chimed, dragging me out of my professional focus.

I pulled it out and checked my messages. It was Chloe again.

I hadn't replied to her first message from two weeks ago, and now she had sent another one, heavy and demanding.

[Chloe: We need to talk.]

Why the fuck had she unblocked me? What did she want to talk about? Was this a genuine attempt at reconciliation with Druski 1.0, or had she somehow caught wind of my new career?

Either way right now she was a distraction.

​"Are you ready to go, Mr. Hart?" Mr. Holmes called from the door, his voice impatient.

​"I'm ready," I confirmed, stepping out into the bustling corridor, the executive suit making me feel ten feet tall.

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