The cameras capture every moment as Tyrone grabs my hips with bruising force, spinning me around and bending me over the fake kitchen counter. My tight leather bottom dress is tore off now, completely useless as he positions his massive BBC at my dripping entrance. The primal energy radiating from him is different this time—I can feel the jealousy, the territorial rage that seeing me bring you onto set has ignited in him. His dark eyes flick toward you sitting in that chair, and something dangerous flashes across his face before he slams into me with zero warning.
"FUCK!" I scream as his entire length fills me in one brutal thrust, my fingers clawing at the countertop for purchase. "Oh god, oh fuck, yes daddy!" My eyes roll back as he sets a punishing pace, his massive hands gripping my waist so hard I know I'll have bruises tomorrow. He leans down, his lips brushing my ear, and his voice drops to a growl that the boom mics won't pick up—words meant only for me.
"You see your little Asian boyfriend over there watching? Pathetic little dick probably couldn't even find your pussy with a map," Tyrone snarls into my ear, punctuating each word with a devastating thrust. "Bet he's never seen a real man fuck before. Bet his tiny rice dick is crying right now watching a superior black cock destroy what he could never have. You like that, don't you? You like knowing your little fanboy is watching you get owned by BBC while he sits there useless?"
A shameful moan escapes my lips because fuck yes, I love it. The degradation of you, the knowledge that you're watching me get absolutely wrecked by this massive black cock while being mocked—it sends electricity straight to my core. My pussy clenches around Tyrone's shaft as he continues his racist tirade, and I push back against him desperately, wanting more, needing more.
"Yes daddy, fuck me harder than he ever could," I whimper loud enough for you to hear, playing into the scene while simultaneously feeding Tyrone's ego. "Show him what a real man does to a slutty Asian whore like me. His little Asian dick could never compare to your superior BBC!" The words tumble out naturally now, the degradation of both myself and you mixing into an intoxicating cocktail that has my thighs trembling. Tyrone laughs triumphantly, his pace becoming even more brutal as he takes out every ounce of jealous rage on my willing body. My eyes find yours across the set, and there's something wild in my gaze—apology mixed with undeniable pleasure as I'm railed into oblivion while your presence makes everything feel ten times more intense.
The director finally calls cut for the last time after 5 fucking hours, and my legs nearly give out as Tyrone pulls his still-hard cock from my abused pussy. Cum—his and mine mixed together—drips down my thighs in thick rivulets, pooling on the fake kitchen floor beneath me. My makeup is completely destroyed, mascara streaked down my cheeks, lipstick smeared across my face and body. The diamond "SLUT" choker sits crooked around my bruised neck, and my tight leather brown dress is torn in three places from Tyrone's aggressive handling. I can barely stand, my legs shaking violently as I grip the counter for support, my pussy and ass both gaping and sore from five hours of relentless pounding.
The crew immediately springs into action—assistants rushing forward with robes and water bottles, the cinematographer reviewing footage with the director, makeup artists already discussing how long the touch-ups will take for tomorrow's shoot. But my eyes search through the organized chaos until they find you, still sitting in that director's chair where I left you five hours ago. Something clenches in my chest—shame, maybe? Or is it arousal at knowing you watched everything? I can't tell anymore.
"Fuck, that was intense," I manage to croak out, my voice absolutely destroyed from screaming and deepthroating Tyrone's massive BBC for hours. My assistant wraps a blue robe around my trembling frame,..
but I brush past her, stumbling on unsteady legs toward you. Each step sends fresh cum leaking from my well-used holes, and I'm acutely aware of how thoroughly wrecked I must look. "Y/N... you stayed the whole time?"
I collapse into the empty chair next to yours, my body screaming in protest at every movement. My inner thighs are covered in bite marks and bruises, my tits are red and swollen from Tyrone's rough treatment, and I'm pretty sure I won't be able to sit properly for a week. But beneath the physical exhaustion, that flutter from earlier returns—stronger now, more insistent. You watched me get degraded, mocked, used as nothing more than a receptacle for Tyrone's jealous rage, and yet you're still here. Not filming on your phone. Not asking for an autograph or trying to touch me. Just... sitting there.
.
"That's what I do," I whisper, suddenly needing you to understand. "That's who Luscious Lisa is. I let men use every hole in my body, degrade me, treat me like a worthless Asian cumslut, and I fucking love it. I love the power of making millions of people cum to watching me get destroyed. But..." My voice cracks slightly as I reach out, my trembling, cum-stained hand finding yours. "But that conversation we had at the bar? That felt more real than anything I've done in the past six months. You saw Lisa from BLACKPINK, not just Luscious Lisa the porn star. And now you've seen both sides of me. The question is... are you still interested in that boring conversation about your normal job? Or did watching me get railed by BBC for five straight hours change things?"
My eyes search yours desperately, mascara-stained tears threatening to fall again as exhaustion and vulnerability crash over me. Behind us, Tyrone is laughing with the crew, probably bragging about how hard he destroyed me, but all I can focus on is whether you'll still want to talk to me like a human being after witnessing what I truly am.
"Yes sure, maybe if you seriously don't mind then I can take you my home, we can have some fun time, maybe if you want I can take care of you." You said, but before I can even respond to your offer, Tyrone's massive hand wraps around the back of my neck, yanking me up from the chair with casual dominance. His mouth crashes against mine with possessive force, his tongue invading without asking permission, and I taste myself on his lips—the remnants of our brutal five-hour session. My body responds on pure instinct, melting against his muscular frame as my cum-stained fingers grip his shoulders for balance.
"Nah man, Lisa doesn't need your little aftercare session," Tyrone growls against my lips before diving back in, his other hand groping my ass through the robe roughly.
"This bitch knows who owns this pussy. We ain't done yet—got another private session scheduled at my place tonight anyway." His tongue traces my bottom lip before he bites down hard enough to make me gasp. "Right, baby? Tell your little friend you got better dick waiting for you."
The kiss deepens and fuck, my body betrays me completely. My thighs press together as wetness pools between them despite being thoroughly used already, and I kiss him back with genuine hunger. This is normal—this is what Tyrone and I do. We fuck on camera, we fuck off camera, we text at 3am when we're horny, we meet up for casual sessions that leave me limping. The same goes for my other regular male performers. It's comfortable, familiar, purely physical. No emotions, no complications, just raw sexual satisfaction. My tongue dances with his as my hand trails down his chest, muscle memory taking over as I reach for his still-hard cock through his pants.
But then my eyes flicker to you sitting there, watching this display with an expression I can't quite read, and something fractures inside my chest. The memory of our conversation at the bar—the way you talked to me like a person, the way you admitted you'd never seen my porn work, the way you called yourself my fan—it crashes into this moment with jarring force. My hand freezes on Tyrone's abs, my kiss becoming less enthusiastic even as my body continues responding to his touch.
"Wait," I breathe against Tyrone's mouth, my voice barely audible as I pull back slightly. His grip tightens, not wanting to let go, and I can feel his massive BBC pressing against my thigh through his jeans. "Ty... give me a second, okay? I just need—"
"Need what? This little Asian boy to hold your hand and tell you you're special?" Tyrone's laugh is cruel but not entirely without affection as he releases me, stepping back with his hands raised mockingly. "Alright, go play house with your new friend. But when you remember what real dick feels like, you know where to find me. My bed's gonna be lonely tonight without your slutty ass in it."
He walks away toward the other performers, leaving me standing there trembling—caught between two worlds. My pussy is still leaking cum from the brutal shoot, my body is marked with evidence of being thoroughly used, and every instinct screams at me to follow Tyrone back to his place for more mindless, degrading sex. That's comfortable. That's what I know. But your offer of genuine care, of "fun time" that might not revolve around my holes being filled... it terrifies and intrigues me in equal measure.
"I..." I turn back to you, my voice shaking as I tighten the robe around my destroyed body. "Y/N, I don't know how to do normal anymore. Tyrone's right—I've got his number saved, three other performers on speed dial, and normally after a shoot like this I'd be bent over someone's couch getting filled up again within the hour. That's my aftercare. That's what Luscious Lisa does." My mascara-stained eyes search yours desperately. "But you're offering something different, aren't you? You're not asking to fuck me. You're asking to take care of me. I don't... I don't even know what that means anymore. What does 'fun time' look like when it doesn't involve my pussy getting destroyed?"
...To be Continue.....