The following is a total fiction. All of the sexual events involve adults over 18. Rape is a part of the narrative, and I must again say that it is a work of fantasy, but if you might be offended, my apologies.
Retirement Plans
What does an actress do, when the Internet makes porn so easy to get, and virtually free. We live on forever, with people viewing our labors for fractions of a penny.
I had a good run, thriving at deep throat performances. I learned to tolerate and even enjoy long stretches of fucking, anal, vaginal and oral. I was very popular for a time.
But time moves on, and so does the money. Most of my contemporaries found sugar daddies or they became prostitutes, first for the rich, then as their looks left them they moved on to lower paying clients.
For me, it wasn't about getting older, it was more about technology making my job open to the masses. I didn't want to be a hooker. Most of them have a pimp or an agency taking a big chunk of the money. What I needed was an agent.
I achieved some measure of fame with my ability to cum. Some women squirt, and there is always skepticism about it being pee (from the urethra) or a thin fluid emission (from the vagina). When I cum my vaginal wall exudes a thick white fluid, which seeps out and globs down the cock or dildo or finger, or tongue. If I'm being roughly pumped by something that really fills me, it may look as if I'm pumping it out like a man, but it is only the pressure caused by the piston action.
A stage hand came up with my first glass dildo. It enabled my audience to see the buildup of cum on the wall of the device. Then, as my cum pushes out, it is obviously mine alone.
After that film I had my niche.
The Adult Film Industry has some ingenious people. Other glass pieces were used with the focus on seeing the inside of my vagina, and making me climax bigger and harder.
I actually had to learn how to act, giving the most heartfelt moans and mews and squeals. Scenes with bondage were also in big demand, so I had to be able to act desperate to escape, for my freedom and my virtue!
The ability to experience, and maintain an orgasm has never been a problem for me. If I want one, and sometimes when I don't want one, I can cum. I take my mind to my happy place and my eyes go out of focus. My nipples will already be plump with blood, the nibs achingly pointing out.
Most men that like porn have watched those videos, where I am stuffed with a fat clear glass cock. The outside is bumpy to stimulate me more, but the audience can still see a closeup of the intimate walls of my pussy, as it whitens with my emissions.
You can watch that wicked video as often as you like, and blast load after load in response to my humiliation and torture... for free. Millions of views, and I make a royalty of zero.
My new niche is in live performances, but even there I have a problem.
If you can imagine a group of 10 men sitting nearby, while I masturbate myself with my special toy. Perhaps on a raised platform that rotates so that all could have the best line of sight.
I would bring myself to an orgasm. A process that took as little as 2 minutes to start and I could orgasm for a good 60 seconds. Cum would be seeping down the handle. Sometimes its better to use a piston or fucking machine so the pace doesn't letup as I enjoy my bliss.
I could give them two or three such performances, taking up to an hour. They might masturbate themselves or just watch, but they have an hour and they have paid well for it. I enjoy many minutes of orgasms. It's hard to put a number on it, since the intensity varies so greatly, but let's just say I enjoy my work.
The problem comes, when I get raped.
Last year I negotiated a private show at a College Fraternity. They had a big rec room for me to entertain them, and they were perfect gentlemen as I performed my most heartfelt orgasms for these young, healthy and horny men. Most of them had blankets over their genitals, but some did not hide their cocks as they pleasured themselves.
Soon I started to wonder more about the men that did not satisfy themselves. Why were they waiting?
Most of them got up and left as I was putting away my equipment for a hasty exit. Six men stood by and watched me.
I hoped that they wanted an autograph, but when I reached for my clothes one of them grabbed my wrist and another one spoke as their leader.
