_______

“It’s different from amateur because it’s still professional production quality. I’m talking warm lighting, great camera work, actual editing…”

“I can appreciate the niche, but it’s a really crowded market out there. You’re going for subscriptions with this, yes?”

“Right. Once we develop our brand.”

“You know how hard that is?”

Ryan glanced at the giant silver and bronze cock trophies on John’s desk. They were Cocky Awards—the adult entertainment industry’s version of Emmys. John had won two silvers with their previous company, Busters, as “Executive Producer,” as well as a bronze in the “Big-Swinging Dick” category — awarded to general industry influencers — for his current offshoot consultancy company, Reel Adult Entertainment. The office’s studio-style lighting twinkled off the phallouses’ pronounced veins. The molding had been cast from the legendary Bruce Buckshot himself. How did Buckshot stay hard long enough for the mold to settle? Ryan wondered. Better yet...what must the factory workers in China who produced such things have thought?

Ryan was impressed by John’s new digs. Since Busters, John had launched RAE from the ground up. His staff consisted of only himself, an executive assistant, a three-man legal team, and two biz dev/marketing/sales/promotions guys. Despite this tight crew, Ryan knew they were doing very well. Porn companies were in desperate need of advice from industry experts — financial, promotional, and, especially, legal.

Ryan knew John from those early days at Busters, when John was the bigshot executive and he was just starting out as a lowly marketing intern. The two had hit it off when they ran into each other at the taco shop next to the studio. After messily enjoying their tacos and commiserating on the Cubs’ consistently egregious record, they thereafter became frequent lunch buddies.

“I worked for Hollywood for 20 years,” John had explained to Ryan over his usual assortment of carne asada, barbacoa, and carnitas tacos. “Chewed up, spit out, picked back up, and chewed again.”

“Sounds similar to how cows eat,” Ryan had responded, revealing his Midwest roots.

“True. Only Hollywood doesn’t have four stomachs like a cow. It has thousands. I’ve seen directors, actors, grip hands, assistants get torn apart every which way. Overdosage of power, fame, drugs, depression, or they just plain burn out. The trick is to not buy into the popularity game — even when you’re on top…always be open to people above and below you at all stages of your success…people who aren’t afraid to provide critique are your pillars in the entertainment world, and not just on the creative end of things…honesty, especially with yourself, is how you build loyalty with others…I’ve seen dozens of fuckers stick up the finger to everyone once they’ve made it, then beg with open palms when they’re slipping.”

Ryan had been very fond of those lunch lessons. He was hungry for sporadic, stream-of-consciousness mentorship from a seasoned veteran. But then again, wasn’t that everyone in LA?

Ryan had quickly worked his way up at Busters. Over the course of his 7 year tenure there, he had been promoted from Video Editor to Digital Content Manager. Then to Director of Digital Marketing. And eventually, Director of Marketing. He became responsible for design, layout, and content curation for the Busters website, which was growing exponentially in traffic by the day. 

He was surrounded by colleagues and friends who raved that he was in a still relatively young (“but still over 18!”) industry that was exploding with the advent of the internet. It hadn’t really dawned on him at the time just how big the internet would be for porn. The monetization models for online advertising were still in their infancy. He grew accustomed to the pace. He grew accustomed to the demand. He grew accustomed to the product.

It had been dizzying at first, the product side of things. Video editing was particularly challenging. Their office even had locking edit bays for the editors, equipped with tissue boxes and sanitizing wipes. After all, you were watching porn for your job; incidental side effects of the profession did take their toll. If you had to rub one out, you had to rub one out.

But eventually, as was the reality with most everyone else in the industry (even, and especially, the talent), he became numb to the sexual commodity they were mass producing. After hundreds of edits, naked bodies lost the taboo glow he had once known them to possess. Tits would flop around on screen in front of him and his cock wouldn’t pulse in the least. Putting in 11 hour days of nothing but naked bodies on his screen, it wasn’t long before he developed the unflinching eye of a doctor.

So too had this laissez-faire attitude seeped into his daily interactions among coworkers. Collaborating with the director and other editors had originally been hilarious to him. “Hey Dan, do you think we should do a hard cut right before the cum shot or just let it roll from this angle?” But even these interactions became normalized. In an unwavering, monotone command the director would request “a zoom in on that vagina residue” or a “color correction to emphasize her red pubic hair” and no one in the room would be phased.

He did the math. It had to be. He had been witness to more vaginas than Genghis Khan. That also meant he had been witness to more penises than all of his ancestors combined. Shit, men used to lose their minds when catching a glimpse of a woman’s dainty hands. The university he had attended, founded in 1876, still had the original half-height steps leading up to many of its buildings — constructed specifically to prevent women’s scandalous ankles from being exposed beneath their dresses when they stepped. Now look where we are, he would think to himself as he battled the LA rush hour traffic with his run-down Camry. The age of sinformation.

“Of course it’s hard,” Ryan responded, yanking his transfixed eyes away from the effervescently epoxied erections to look at John. “We’re battling a free market. Look...water is free, but people pay for bottled water all the time. People pay for purity of product. Same with oxygen bars...why do those exist? When I drive home tonight on i5 I’m going to see dozens of people whipping past me in the express toll lane. They could be driving the freeway for free, but they don’t. They pay for preference of lifestyle. They pay for superior product. With porn...look...people will pay even when they don’t need to. I’m not sure I’ve communicated the niche effectively. The trend in porn is skewing towards animalistic, dominating...forced deep throat, revenge porn, weird fetishes, whatever. The industry’s devolving into guys with dicks bigger than their own arms. That’s the old Ron Jeremy model. That’s for the men. It’s not the whole demographic. With this thing, we’re presenting a genuine, emotionally resonant product that women, who — you know the stats better than I do, are 37% of the consumer market in America — can get on board with. They don’t want to watch what men watch. Think of Hollywood, there’s action flicks and rom coms. Up to this point, the porn industry has been just action flicks.”

John pressed the tips of his fingers together, lips pursed in thought. Ryan commanded his eyes not to look at the shiny cocks, and was relieved when he finally spoke.

“I liked what I saw in the business proposal you sent over, but here’s my hangup: you can search for that soft stuff on any of the top sites. How do you get someone to pull out their credit card with their dick — or, I guess for this thing, pussy — in hand? There’s a reason no one subscribes anymore. The main sites act like television more or less. You see a variety of channels or options to choose from and you scroll through. That’s the refreshing beauty of porn, and a major reason why people, who in their normal sex lives are stuck with one partner, are addicted to it. It’s the freedom. “I don’t like the tits on this girl, next! I don’t like the position they’re in, next! I don’t like the whatever, next!” It’s that power of choice that makes this thing work. It’s why people around the world will be content at staring at their screen tonight instead of going out and trying to get the real thing.”

“I hear you, but just because you can search for it doesn’t mean people do. Again, I think we’re talking to the male demographic, here, John. I know we’re hardwired to think this way. I certainly am too. That’s why we’ll start off our business model with free content that gets posted on the big sites with our logo watermarked onto the screen so people learn the brand behind our breed of videos. We build recognition and demand. But we also limit the amount of videos that are on the big sites’ feeds. Enough to spark a following, not enough to satisfy that following. And another thing, John. Two words for you that you’ve probably been told in bed: multiple orgasms. With you and I we jerk off and we’re done, right? Well, it can be different with women. By targeting them with content they love, we can potentially tap into a more frequent user/engaged audience. They’re not the pump and dump chumps we are, you know? They can stay viewing longer, come back multiple times in a day, etc. And again, brand is huge for us. You know what a solid brand can do for merch. We get in bed with sex toys, fragrances, bedtime clothing, paraphernalia in our online store. Member discounts. All of it.”

“Talk about the product. Why is this different from the softcore out there?”

“First and foremost: it’s all about the woman. The videos set a context of sensuality...of tenderness...of respect. The gradual build up from there is to satiate every desire she has — the man is merely a prop in her gratification. That’s where we’re turning this thing on its head, normally women are the props. She makes it clear when she’s ready for the pace to go up. We’re not going in balls blazing. Authenticity is seminal for this movement. No audio level-blowing fake screams. No cheeky catch phrase utterances. It needs to be real.”

“What are you calling this thing?”

“Sex for Her is my working title for now.”

“And you’re asking for 100k.”

“Correct. I’ve got a cinematographer lined up, I think you met him...Jared. He’s a one-man army. Lights, sound. He does it all, but he’s also got a team behind him to make this thing look good.”

“And the money goes to…”

“Some to gear...cameras, lights, computer, software...some to studio time...location rentals...talent...and marketing.”

“Would you need help sourcing talent?”

“So that’s another angle with this thing. We want to start fresh. Real people, with real bodies, with real proportions.”

“You’re a smart guy, Ryan. You’re driven. And you’re also a good guy. I’m going to tell you something you probably know on paper but are about to find out in person: in the porn industry...if you steal market share, these execs will fuck you longer and harder than their own talent does on screen. Just be ready for that. That being said, I’ve never bent over for them. I see market potential in this thing and think it could go somewhere. I also know you to be the type of guy that can make things work and one way or another you’re going to get funding for this thing, so I’d rather be the guy that gives it to you so you don’t get your knees bashed when you lose it. I am going to hold you accountable to returns though. I’m going to give you 125 instead of the 100 you’re asking for. I’ll have Anna draft up an investment loan agreement. I don’t think we’re at the Convertible Promissory Note loan level quite yet but I pray to god you get there. It’ll likely be an unsecured loan. I can extend legal advice from myself and my team when you need it, as long as things don’t get out of hand. I’m not going to court for you. Don’t fuck this up.”