by B. B. Blaque
He laughed at me, lit up a smoke, and pulled at my arm. “C’mon, kid, you can walk all the way across it. You wanted to go over there . . . remember that?”
“Yeah, yeah, I didn’t forget.” When we were standin’ in front of the store, I looked at him and back at the Rainbow. “What do ya think about all this stuff? It’s super cool, right?”
Crucifix grabbed my face and smiled. “It’s un-fuckin’-believable, kid. What do you want me to say? I will tell ya this and listen good . . . that mischievous look in your eyes when you heard about that Rocky Road motherfucker is exactly what twists FOCUS up. So stop it. Don’t fuckin’ let him see that shit or he’ll go ballistic. Pray to God he didn’t see it.”
Jealous bastard.
“He loves me . . . doesn’t he?” I grabbed his hand and swung it back and forth. “You can tell me. That’s why he gets so jealous.”
The look was like I’d punched him in the stomach. His hand went to his face and held the bridge of his nose. “Kid, he’s complicated. Leave it at that and take what you got when you got it.”
I pulled the door, winked, and smiled. “So you’re sayin’ he loves me. I hear ya.”
Knew it!
He walked in behind me and shook his head. “I didn’t say nothin’ like that. Don’t go puttin’ words in my mouth. Anyone tell ya it’s not safe to feed the animals?”
The Hustler store was amazeballs and Crucifix got me a couple outfits that he thought would be porn star ready and that could fit in with Rotten to the Core. All I could think about was what he said and didn’t say.
You love me, you stubborn, Irish prick!
DON’T LET MONEY FOOL YA
We decided to check into that Clover girl since she was familiar with us. If that brother didn’t wanna kill the bitch when they were done, it was good enough for us. We figured the Wonderland sweet-butt girl would probably be tryin’ to sniff around for another one of us. She’ll be easy pickins. The guy thing was harder to call. I knew Nixx could handle a big dick—she’d taken Heavy and bein’ Goldied like she was made for porn. I didn’t worry about that. We had to hire Rocco just on reputation alone. I knew she’d take it good and hard. They weren’t pictures to send home to Mama to be framed, but those fuckers could draw guys in like a magnet. Drake Steel could do damage and Tommy Gunn was like his name, a machine gun. They were all a good start and Rotten to the Core was set to kick major ass from the get-go. With Bish’s money backin’ us, we were able to do a big push and make sure all kinds of eyes were on us and the fresh, luscious meat of Nixx Barritt. If anyone flakes, I’ll jump in. It was the same shit I’d done in so many videos on our live streamin’ stuff. If anyone knew how to get Nixx’s nympho up, it was me.
Yeah, I’m gonna do it anyway. Do I wanna be first, or last?
Until we got to L.A., I hadn’t seen our studio or office. Hollywood was closest to where we were stayin’ in Studio City—it made sense to check out that location first. We already knew Rotten to the Core would most likely be shot in the Hollywood location anyway. If shit was goin’ well, I already had a line on a couple mansions that we could book for a day to do our thing. Right outta the gate we knew the motel wouldn’t work for long. We’ll have to rent an apartment. It seemed like you couldn’t smoke almost everywhere in L.A. and just good fuckin’ luck with that.
It’s all fallin’ into place.
“Okay, girl, you ready to go check out the place with Crucifix and me? It’s where the magic is gonna happen, and you really should see it first.”
You’d think I’d asked her if she wanted to go to Universal or somethin’. She ran in from the table outside the room like her ass was on fire. Girl had stars in her eyes and couldn’t wait to be one herself. Live streamin’ stuff is one thing and we’d both built a followin’. A studio in Hollywood was beyond anything that girl had ever imagined. I guess bein’ a pimp isn’t such a bad thing.
“Oh. My. God! Yes! I’m ready to go! I’ve had my make-up on for hours just in case we went anywhere. Hollywood . . . the Royal Bastards Video studio . . . I can’t wait! Can we maybe invite Kristal to be in a shoot? She’s so nice!” She fiddled with her hair and was standin’ by the bike in five minutes flat. I’d never seen her so ready for any dang thing.
Oh yeah, except Heavy.
“Girl, cross one fuckin’ bridge at a time. We’ve already picked some people for this shoot. I didn’t remember that girl until ya mentioned her.” I’d tried to block that night outta my mind. It was a thing and it wasn’t my favorite. She’d hit me hard that night. I ain’t jealous. I don’t love you.
She babbled her head off and kept talkin’ in my ear durin’ the whole ride to Hollywood. I knew she was excited, but dang, I didn’t expect it to be that level. We finally got to the building and walked through a path that was covered with all kinda plants. I was surprised when I unlocked the door and saw just how huge it was. We’d rented it from another company that’d gone belly up and they left all kinda shit around for us to use. I left the settin’ up part for Nixx. It was girl’s shit and I couldn’t give a rat’s ass as long as there was fuckin’ goin on. She was already runnin’ around and lookin’ at everything. There were a few areas already set up, a pool out front, a bar area, and a shit-load of beds and couches. None of it looked fancy, but we’re bikers and really don’t give a flyin’ fuck about that. Nixx gave a fuck.
“There’s an entire room just for make-up!” she hollered from a room we couldn’t see. “Those Hollywood lights are all around the mirror and everything!”
Wonderful!
“Can I get somethin’ to dress this place up? I mean, if it’s okay with you guys. It’s sorta blah. Even the champagne room is prettier.” Her hand went to her mouth like she was tryin’ to keep the rest of her words in. Then she continued. “I mean, I like it and stuff . . . it just needs some pizzazz! Rotten to the Core is gonna be biker, though, right?
Crucifix and I walked over to the bar set and she followed. “Take a breath, kid. You’re gonna hyperventilate, pass out, and then we’ll have to do CPR. But yeah, scooter-trash porn.”
I laughed at Crucifix for bein’ over dramatic as Nixx pulled up a barstool next to us. It lasted all of one second and she bounced up like she’d just been bit and went behind the bar. As tough as that girl is, she is also like a little fuckin’ crumb-snatchin’ kid sometimes. It was cute, no question, but too much dang energy.
“Okay, I’m breathin’. This part looks biker-ish, don’tcha think? Like a bar you guys would go to. You’re gonna be in it, right? I’d feel so much better to have the two of you with me. It is Royal Bastards Video too, so it’s not a big secret or anything.”
So much for takin’ a beath.
I looked at Crucifix. He didn’t look like he was on board. In the live streams, he’d done some, but bein’ as public as the video company was set to be, it was definitely not his deal. “Kid, I’m not big on shit bein’ out there for general consumption. Don’t want anything blowin’ back. With me bein’ the P, it’s not a good call.”
No surprise. He was dead on the money. I’d done a butt-load of the shit with Nixx and some of my other girls. Crucifix was more camera shy, even though he was a rough ride in the sack. Gotta touch base with Blayze to see if any of the L.A. Chapter would come in as extras. There were a bunch of wanna-be guys who’d step up for a couple bucks and play biker for the day so we weren’t worried. It was probably the best idea of all. “Look, we’re gonna be there with bells on, don’t you worry your pretty head about it. I’m probably gonna jump in a scene with ya, so you’ll have my big cock to help with the nerves. Does anyone fuck you better?”
She looked down, the shy look I hadn’t seen in ages, and curled her lip. There was a sparkle in her eyes when she looked up and smiled. “You know you can push my buttons, FOCUS. There’s no reason to even ask that question.”
Damn right! Yell. Fear. Wet pussy ready to rock!
“Oh, hey . . . are you gonna wear your colors while you fuck me? I
t’d fit perfectly . . . please?”
That please thing has been gettin’ me too much lately.
“No!” Crucifix and I answered in fuckin’ stereo. “Outta the question.”
We couldn’t be seen on camera with our cuts. Every single time I’d fucked her for live stream, it was completely outta the picture. Even the tattoo on my chest had to be covered with a wife beater. It was just a bad idea all the way around the barn. Nixx was poutin’, but she couldn’t buck our system. Shit was done for a reason. All she needed to understand was the word no.
“I’m meetin’ the director here tomorrow and we’re gonna go over shit. Since we don’t have a lot to work with right now, we’re gonna go with what we’ve got . . . bar, pool, and I think I saw a wall of corrugated steel back there. Check the place out before we go and see what you come across. Look at it like a dang treasure hunt.”
She knew it was time for her to scoot her ass out of our way. It was time to talk business. That girl threw me a dang curve ball when she marched out from behind the bar and took off without a question.
Shoppin’!
When we were alone, I turned my stool toward Crucifix. He had that little smirk on his face he gets when he’s amused or really excited. “FOCUS, you’re really takin’ this ball and runnin’ with it . . . impressive. Talkin’ about directors, agents, talent . . . like a regular pornographer.”
“Oh yeah, man, just call me FOCUS Flynt.” I laughed and lit a cigarette. I’d be damned it we couldn’t smoke in our own damned studio. We’d even discussed buyin’ the studio with Five Point money if there was an issue. “Seriously though, that guy Kane has helped a shit-ton. He knows the replicators and box cover artists . . . the whole deal . . . guy’s got it all in his little bag of tricks. He’s comin’ tomorrow and we should be ready to shoot with him in a couple of days.”
It’d been almost a year of gettin’ shit weeded out and talkin’ with Bish. He’d taken trips out to scout since it was where he went to college. More hours than I wanna think about had been spent on the phone and in video chats about what was needed to make it all happen. We’d been turned on to a director, at least for Rotten to the Core. He’s a retired dick for hire named Kane Legend. The guy has the whole lighting and video set up so we didn’t have to go diggin’ deep for that shit. Learnin’ the business end was one thing, but we didn’t know nothin’ about the actual shootin’ part. Cams from The Mounds weren’t rocket science, but real video was totally out of our wheelhouse. If Kane was as good as I’d been told, we’d decided he’d be contracted to stay on with us. It’ll be great to have that shit all sewn up.
The post-production shit was gonna be a nightmare, I knew it, but Kane had connections for that too. There’s so much more to it all than fuckin’ and I’d been learnin’ it all while tryin’ to keep Nixx in line. Crucifix had offered to babysit her for me when I’d been in negotiations to make all the shit happen. Even if he’d been lyin’ to her the entire time, it was all comin’ full circle. She’d gotten over it.
Crucifix’s eyes about popped outta his head when I said that. He’d been happily in the dark for all of it—need to know and he didn’t need to know much. “You’re tellin’ me this shit is set to go that fast? Get the fuck outta here, bro. How the fuck?”
“I got a guy.” I laughed and threw the New York line in his face. “Ain’t there always a guy in your world? Mine are Kane and Jonny Fucknuts. The talent is ready to roll and hungry for the money. Kane’s group can be ready to go in the blink of an eye. They’ve got the equipment from soup to nuts. He’s even checkin’ in with a make-up artist . . . Clover mentioned one too in case we need somebody on short notice. I think it’s her roommate or some kinda horseshit.”
It’s really that fuckin’ easy. Son of a bitch!
“Okay, wise-ass, what’s this thing about? Got a script or some shit?”
That one had me in stitches. “You did not just ask that question, did you? Scritpt? Man, it’s porn. We can throw somethin’ in for Nixx to say, maybe I’ll be turnin’ her into Nympho Nixx Barritt.”
Fuck me runnin’!
“Why can’t it just be her fuckin’ story, Crucifix? Think about it! It won’t be straight across the board, but I can be the dirtbag that turns her. Ain’t that the fuckin’ truth? The Mounds won’t be in it, but I could just be filthy scooter-trash pickin’ her up at a biker bar. Wham, bam, she’s rotten to the fuckin’ core!”
Truth is stranger than fiction. Why the fuck not?
“Ya gonna write how the pimp became a possessive, jealous prick ‘cause he fell in love with his whore? It’d make it better . . . just sayin’, bro.”
I couldn’t believe he went knockin’ on that door. First that little bitch, then Crucifix.
“It ain’t enough I get it from her, I’m ready to snap, so help me fuckin’ God! Now, you’re gettin’ in on the act? What the fuck, man?” I jumped up and slammed my hands off his chest then pushed away from the bar. He’d just taken a good fuckin’ mood and turned it to shit. “You coulda gone for a hundred years without askin’ that bullshit! Are you fuckin’ high? I thought of all people you’d have my back!
Crucifix wasn’t one to mince words and he didn’t then. “Just callin’ it like I see it, bro. You wouldn’t be so fuckin’ bent if it wasn’t true . . . You’d bust my balls, sure . . . but this? Puttin’ your fuckin’ hands on me? Nah. Let’s see how ya do when you watch her getting’ rammed by that Rocco guy. I dunno, after that night with the kid in Kentucky, you flipped the script on its fuckin’ ass!”
That night was a different thing.
“I gotta get outta here before I do somethin’ I can’t come back from.” I didn’t wanna look at him and I sure as fuck didn’t wanna see her. Someone was gonna get hurt. “You bring her to the motel. I’ll be there when I get there. Hell, fuck her if ya want!”
I was ten levels beyond pissed. Crucifix is supposed to have my back, not some whore’s. She was my property, but everyone knew I didn’t do relationships, didn’t do the ol’ lady thing. The bitches I ran were money. Nixx was the biggest pile of gold outta of all of ‘em. The shiniest apple, for fuck sure! Love? That’s so far out in the stratosphere it could be a dang satellite.
“Bro . . . you’ll get it through your thick Irish skull one day. I do have your back more than you know!”
I threw up a finger and kept walkin’. If I stayed, it’d get bloody. We’d iron it out later. We always did.
When I took off, I didn’t have any idea where I was goin’. Crucifix was turnin’ on me and Nixx was ready to bounce on all kinds of porn star cock. So fuckin’ what if it was work, it was still rubbin’ me wrong and I didn’t know why. I rode for a couple hours before duckin’ into a bar. I was about halfway to Vegas and could’ve just kept ridin’. I decided to call Bish instead. If anyone would stay loyal, it’d be him.
She’s just a hole.
“Hey, Captain . . . yeah, out in La-la Land . . . big cluster right now . . . Naw, nothin’s wrong with Kane . . . No, we got talent, studio is great.” I lit up a smoke and straddled the bike. “The problem is the girl . . . Yeah, Goldie Nixx, yeah . . . my guts are like a dang washin’ machine on spin . . . Naw, naw, Bish . . . Fuck no I don’t! Crucifix and Nixx are both hellbent on thinkin’ I do. Fuck that! Ain’t gonna happen, you know me . . . dang right! There ain’t a pussy out there that’s good enough to make me fall for it. Naw, I don’t have your chilly disposition, you cold-hearted motherfucker. I wish. Irish hot temper and all that mess . . . Got it! Pussy is pussy . . . just a fuckin’ hole . . . Yeah, my new mantra. Thanks, bro, talk to ya soon.”
I went in for a beer, but came back to the bike when I found out you couldn’t even smoke in a fuckin’ bar. I took Bish’s advice and put my little mantra on loop in my head.
Pussy is pussy. She ain’t nothin’ but a hole.
SHE LOVES MY COCK
Holy shit! Today is the day!
Those were my thoughts the day of my first shoot. Before I even opened m
y eyes, I was imagining how it would be, how I would look, and if the guys would be good. I hoped the girls wouldn’t be catty. I’d throw a saucer of milk down on the floor and let ‘em have at it. I was the only Royal Bastards property on the set, it was my movie, and I was the star. If I could be nice, so could they.
FOCUS had been weird since the day at the studio. Crucifix didn’t say what was goin’ on, just that I could take my time and he was ridin’ me to the motel when I was done. FOCUS didn’t come back for hours. We thought he might’ve gotten lost in the clusterfuck of L.A. Talk about different than the city. It’s so spread out, not like Manhattan. L.A. is everywhere you look and places you can’t see. But he didn’t get lost, or his stubborn ass wouldn’t admit to it.
Stubborn Irish bastard!
No one was in the room when I woke up. When I got outside, Crucifix and Tombie were sittin’ at the little table, havin’ coffee. The shamrock bike wasn’t there. Maybe he went to get food? I’d really hoped he was there. I needed him there that day, but even more important to me was that I wanted him there. Where are the bells you guys are supposed to have on?
“Mornin’, kid. Did ya sleep well?” Crucifix took a drag off a cigarette and I raised an eyebrow. “I ain’t worryin’ . . . they give me a fuckin’ ticket, so what?”
“Meh, I slept decent enough for someone who was ready to jump outta her skin with excitement.” I sat down and hid behind Tombie’s legs to have a smoke. He offered me his coffee, let me finish it, and got up to get more. “Where is he? Has he been off the last couple days? Colder than usual?”
Crucifix had little tells that spoke more than he would sometimes. He hung his head and ran his fingers through the long salt and pepper hair that was fallin’ in his face. His boot scraped at the concrete, and he looked down at me. “Kid, he’s . . . all I can say is go with your gut . . . a lot on his mind, ya know, new business and shit. Just go with your gut.”
I knew it! I also know it’s a pile of bullshit!