If you don't terrify people, what's the point.

Companion piece to:

The Casting Couch - Your first foray into porn starts on a casting couch with Michael “Robby” Robinavitch behind the camera.

Pornstar!Robby Headcannons

Robby’s in the photo lab when Jack seeks him out. The studio have one on site so they can process their own images without having to pay out of the nose for the development of pornographic materials, it’s also a way of protecting their own exclusivity as things tend to go missing when they use outsiders for shit like this.

“She’s a natural.” Jack says hovering over his shoulder in a navy-blue robe. The scent of baby oil clings to his skin, rose, jasmine and a gentle touch of vanilla, His chest still glistens with it, those fine grey hairs glimmering in the dim light. “She’s gonna go far with a personality like that.”

Jack’s right.

The photographs… they’re almost as good as the real thing.

They’re naughty, salacious, the type of thing the fan club will go absolutely wild for if you decide to sign with them.

“Yeah.” Robby responds, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans back in his roller chair. “She’s something special alright.”

 “You think she’ll do ok with the screen test?” Jack questions, snatching up the second chair that occupied the lab and guiding it alongside Robby’s. He drops down into it, groaning as he removes the prosthetic leg, setting it alongside the computer tower. It’s been a long day for him, directing in the afternoon, performing this evening. Dana’s been warning him about pushing himself too hard but Jack, he likes to keep busy.

“I think when you have that much raw chemistry with the camera it doesn’t matter if you have a partner or not.” Robby says, his gaze still focused on the photographs. It’s that cute one he’s fixated on, the one with you glancing over your shoulder like he’s the only man in the world as you slide those jeans down your thighs revealing that peach of an ass. That sort of intimacy, that connection to the audience… it’s rare, something you can’t practice or teach. “We can start her off small, film a hand job first, get her used to preforming in front of the camera.”

The amount of people on set, the way they move around a scene, it can be quite intimidating when you’re new to the industry. It’s hard to stay focused on your partner when you have a boom mic hovering over your head and a camera person up close and personal with your pussy.

“Might be able to run a ‘firsts’ series.” Jack says, his chin coming to rest on his palm as he takes over the mouse and scrolls through the images. “She’s too old for the whole virginity thing, but ‘Honey’s first porn film’ would play with our audiences. Start with someone teaching her to give a handjob on the casting couch to getting fucked over the back of it. If she’s into girl on girl, that’s another first, same with anal and BDSM. We can take them through the journey of corrupting her, it’ll probably generate some fresh revenue in those areas as a large portion of fans will be following her instead of being genre specific.”

It’s a good plan, and something they’ve not done before in his studio which means it’ll be fresh content. Usually the actresses they take on skew more in their early twenties so their first introduction to the scene is ‘The Baby Sitter’ or ‘Daddy’s Best Friend.’ They have an opportunity with you as an older actress, to try something new with someone who’s a lot more emotionally mature.

“We could probably send pictures of the handjob out to the fanclub as a taster, a freebie to get interest going. Not her hand actually wrapped around it” – because their fans don’t want pictures of other man’s dicks unless they’re signed up to the M/M stuff – “but the aftermath, those tits covered in cum… they’ll be jamming the phone lines to get a copy of the video.”

“We’re thinking of pairing her with you or Jesse for the screen test-” Jack shakes his head, cutting Robby off.

“I think it should be you.” He states, tilting his face towards the photographer. “In all of these pictures… it’s clear she’s not looking at the camera, she’s looking at you. That kind of connection, it would really sell this series, elevate it.”

There’s silence for a second, the cogs in Robby’s brain turning and then…

“Dana told you about the woody, didn’t she?” Robby sighs, tilting his head back towards the ceiling as he lets out groan. “It was one time…”

“It was the first time.” Jack points out with a knowing look. “The first time you’ve got hard in front of anyone else since Driscoll and that’s a big deal.”

What happened with Driscoll and his old studio… it fucked him up in more ways than he’d like to admit. Seeing that man behind the scenes at his shoots, after everything he’d done to him… he hadn’t been able to perform… for anyone… not even in private. His fall from grace had been humiliating, soul destroying and it had broken something fundamentally inside of him.

“It was probably a fluke.” He mutters, his cheek coming to rest on his knuckles as he sets his elbow on the desk, watching Jack continue to scroll through the pictures. Your face skims by, that smile that seemed to unlock something in his chest when he was photographing you. It felt like you were the sun, and he was just a flower bending basking in your glow. “You should do the screen test, we can save Jesse for some of the kinkier stuff later, teaching her how to play with piercings and that shit.”

The thought of you learning what to do with a Prince Albert, giving all your attention to the tip of a dick, licking over that barbell, it has him stirring his pants again.

“Hm.” Jack says knowingly, his gaze straying to the bulge in Robby’s trousers, the one he’s trying so badly to hide. “Yeah… you and her, it must be a fluke.”

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