The intercom buzzed. "Ray," my secretary Melissa said, "Cherry is here to see you. She says it's important."

"Send her in." She wasn't scheduled to shoot until next Thursday, and I couldn't help wondering what was so earth-shaking today. But it would be good to talk to her anyway. I was going to start Chrissy Sweet off as backup talent in Cherry Rodriguez's next movie.

Cherry was one of our top starlets, Chicanae chicana I'd met a year ago when she and her fourteen-year-old boyfriend tried to stick me up at the ATM. I liked her looks and told her so, and instead of robbing me, she came by the studio for a screen test. The result was PTHC history. She wasn't quite Lolita Lust, and never would be, but she was one of the best in the biz.

She flounced into the office, looking especially succulent and slutty. Not quite four-six, she was slim and leggy for her size, with long straight black hair and lightly browned skin.

The little blue-eyed blonde angels are the real queens of the genre, but Cherry had a sizable fan following. Especially in Sweden and Norway, where she was our top seller. I suppose viewshit-load there can see a shitload of blondes every day of the week, so an exotic brunette is something special.

She wore a tight little miniskirt that didn't quite cover her panties. The shoes were spikes with three-inch heels, more appropriate for a stripper than for an eleven-year-old porn queen, and she had on too much makeup. I noticed that immediately and I didn't like it.

"Are you trying to look like a thirteen-year-old?" I asked her. "You need to preserve the image, baby. Less makeup, and you should be wearing saddle shoes with ankle socks, not hooker stilts. And a flouncy skirt, not something so tight you're gonna get a yeast infection. If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, you're a star and you have an image to live up to. Guys don't want to see you looking like some thirty year old whore from the local bar -- they want that sweet, untouched but oh so touchable look."

The name was strictly a marketing ploy. She was eleven now (ten when I met her), and she hadn't been a virgin for a long time before that. But she had eyes that could look deceptively innocent, especially when she gazed up at the camera with her mouth full of a big dick, and "Cherry Rodriguez" was a better name than "Esmeralda Graciela Balasteros" to slap on the cover of a PTHC DVD.

She didn't sit down, just stood by my desk, tapping her toe on the floor as if she was juiced up on speed. Wouldn't have surprised me if she was.

I glanced down her body. Her top was loose-fitting and extremely thin, with the big brown areolae of her nipples showing through. She looked at me, with her hand resting on the front of her blouse, her fingers toying idly through the fabric with the stiffening point of one nipple. Something about her chest didn't look quite right, but the blouse was so loose I couldn't tell just what it was that bothered me.

"So what's new, Cherry?" I asked, trying to figure out why she was here unannounced and out of the blue. Obviously there was something on her mind.

"I want out of my contract," she said flatly. "Jesse is going to make me his lead girl and give me a lot more money. Here I'm just another pre-teen pussy. Over there I'm gonna be _the_ star. I want out, Ray."

Little whorshortya moment I was strongly tempted to throw her across my knee, lift that shortie skirt, yajalapeño those panties, and spank her skinny little ass till it got as red as a jalapeno pepper.

This is a cutthroat business. If I was the only guy making pre-teen hardcore, it would be different, but the competition is savage. Jesse Harmon, the kingpin at Sweet Young Cunt Video, was my closest rival. Nobody else really comes close.

His product was shit, of course, but he was out to become #1 and he didn't draw the line at stealing my talent. Not that I'd ever want to pay him bacgang-bangying to steal any of those skanks who worked for him. Even in an amateur playground gangbang, his girls would be wallflowers. Most of them were rejects from PTHC.

spokes-modelore money?"

"Five thousand a day," she said. "And I'll be _the_ Sweet Young Cunt, the spokesmodel for the whole label. Top billing, my own 'Cherry's Special Fantasies' series, a pony, a limo for my parents -- "

"I got your dad his green card," I pointed out.

"Jesse made a _big_ contribution to the RNC. He's going to get us _citizenship_," Cherry replied saucily. "And it's a one-year contract, not that 90 days shit you keep giving me, _and_ I _never_ have to fuck Ron Jeremy again."

"Well." There was nothing else to say.

"So?" Cherry said, still tapping the pointy toe of her shoe. "You're not gonna make me a better offer?"

"I can't arrange for citizenship. I don't pay anybody five K a day, and if I did, it would be Lolita Lust." I didn't mention Ron Jeremy, but that was definitely the deal breaker as far as I was concerned. Ron and I have been buds forever and as long as he can get it up, he's guaranteed work at PTHC. Call me sentimental, but it's just the way I am.

"OK," I said, "if you want to go, we'll tear up the contract and you can be free."

"Honest?"

I nodded. "Of course, there is a little itsy-bitsy price. I think you know what it is, Cherry."

She breathed hard, then began to unbutton her blouse.

***

We hadn't worked with her in almost a month. She'd spent Easter break shooting twelve hours a day and we had enough footage in the can for half a dozen DVD releases. So I hadn't seen her naked in a while. And as soon as she slipped out of her blouse I noticed something was different.

"Where did these come from?" I asked, touching one of her titties. It was soft and squishy, with a big brown nipple. She made "ooh" noises as I squeezed it.

Four weeks ago she'd been flat. Today she was almost an A-cup. When those Latina chicks blossom, they make a federal case out of it.

"The rest," I told her, and she wiggled the short tight skirt down her long legs. She did a turn-around, showing me the skinny thong strap in back. I frowned again. Thongs on little girls look cheap and tacky. If I'd told her once, I've told her a thousand times, don't wear the fucking things!

Hooking her thumbs in the waistband of the panties, she smirked up at me, then lowered them, stepped out of them, tossed them over her shoulder and stood there with her head a-tilt, hip cocked out.

"Hard weekend for you, Cherry?" I asked, coming closer. Her cunt looked like it had a bad case of diaper rash, the skin reddened around the deep central pussy slice.

"Went clubbing, got fucked a few times," she shrugged. "SOS."

I put my fingers on her belly, tickled her navel till she giggled, then reached down and cupped her cunt. I squeezed the peach-like fruit until it gave up a little of its juice, oozing out of her crack. The razor stubble was like sandpaper. But even if she'd been freshly waxed, I could have felt it. She just made it easier for me. What kind of panties she was wearing didn't seem important any longer.

Hmmm. "Did Jesse fuck you while you were making all the plans, Cherry?" I knew the answer but I wanted to hear it from her.

She giggled. "No. I don't think he likes girls. I mean, sure he likes them. I think maybe he wishes he'd been born one. But he doesn't _like_ girls, you know?"

Yeah, that was Jesse. She'd read him like a book in Spanish. The dumb queer fuck hadn't even asked the little cunt to strip down and show him the merchandise. I wonder if he knew the pre-teen porn princess was getting titties and a bush.

Not enough attention to detail. That's why I'm still the king of the porn business and Jesse Harmon will never be anything but the pretender. A one-year contract for a kid who was rushing into puberty the way Whitney Houston runs for a crack house? What a dumb son of a bitch!

I stroked my fingers back and forth across her cunt. It was as hot as ever, but the stubble made it feel completely different from the last time I'd played with it. Even if she'd had the best wax job in LA, I would have known Cherry was growing up, a little too fast.

My finger stroked the crack, toyed with the moist puffy lips, eased between them. Her cunt was deep and responsive. It sucked my finger inside her, and she stood there, rocking in her spike heels, moving my finger up and down her pussy tube.

"Still the hottest, huh?" she smirked, but my palm could feel the residue of hair on her mound and it wasn't the same at all.

I pointed to the desk. Cherry knew the score. She strutted over to it, wiggling her ass -- it was filling out, and it had begun to protrude as if she was a grade school version of Jennifer Lopez. She left the shoes on. They gave her legs an almost womanly shape, made her caboose stick out even further.

Cherry put her hands on the desk and spread her thighs, pointing that ass at me. Her crack showed between them, hairless now but I knew that the growth had already started and I fancied I could see it creeping down her mound even now, eager to swamp and smother that tight little pink porno gash. It made me shiver.

I unzipped my pants, took my cock out, stroked it thoughtfully. She was a good kid, a pretty hot fuck, and I'd miss her, but if Cherry wanted to go with SYC, I'd just have to let her.

"Mmmm," Cherrypussy-mouth I slid my hardening meat along her exposed slice. The razor stubble tickled the head of my dick. I hoped it didn't leave red streaks on me.

"I can't believe you're gonna let me go," she whispered as Iembeded my knob into her pussymouth. She stretched those thighs a little further apart, and piss-like ooze was already seeping from her crack. I put one hand on the ass cheek where she wore her Virgin of Guadalupe tattoo, used the other to imbed my cock inside her opening, and then I fucked it home.

Cherry squealed, the way she always does the first time you ram her, but her cunt loosened and took my meat, and then began to milk up and down the shaft. The first guy who caught her and fucked her in a TJ alley was someone whose hand I'd like to shake, if there was a box of Wipe 'n Dry close by.

Cherry was really a natural. I only wish I'd found her when she was eight, before she picked up some bad mannerisms. She'd never have topped Pollyanna Petite, but she could have been as big as Ginger Peach.

She fucked back at me, wiggling that ass. I slapped the Virgin on the face, left a red streak on Cherry's buttock. My cock rammed again and again to the bottom of her hot little cunt. I reached under her to get at her clitoris, frigging it while I kept on pounding her pussy. The juices flowed from her wet hole and her clit throbbed under my fingers.

"You know the routine," I panted, extracting my cock from her snatch. Making husky breathing sounds, she turned around, squatted down, sucked my rod down her throat. She gnawed on it, rolling her tongue in figure 8s around my meat, taking me almost into her throat. She had always narcissistically loved the taste of her pussy on a guy's prick, and she ate me greedily.

I fucked her face, holding her by the black-haired head. The idea of shooting my load down her throat was appealing, but I had something else in mind for Cherry Rodriguez' last day on the job at PTHC.

"Leggo," I commanded, tapping her head. She looked up at me with those big innocent brown eyes, her mouth stretched around the hardness of my meat. Slowly her lips unclenched and I slid wetly out of Cherry's mouth.

I pointed with my thumb to the carpeted floor, and she lay butt-holeher back, knees up, pussy exposed. That red rash on her mound. Kinda made me shiver.

"No, honey, on your knees." Obediently, the little girl turned over, going up onto hands and knees. Her ass stuck up and out. I kissed the Virgin instead of slapping her, and then gave Cherry's butthole a delicate lick or three. She giggled at the wet touch of my tongue. She knew where this was going.

I positioned myself behind her. Cherry reached around to cup her ass cheeks and spread them wider. Her little asshole winked at me. I put my cock knob on it and began to make penetration of her eleven-year-old anus. Lube? I didn't need no steenking lube!

She said "Ngggghh!" as I entered her, and she was a little tight, but I was more than a little hard and not about to take no for an answer from some pre-teen asshole. I just kept on shoving and a moment later her colon was full of my cock. I wasn't Ron Jeremy, but I had all the meat her ass could hold and then some.

Now it was time to really _fuck_ Cherry. I pumped her fast and fiercely, and each time my cock hit bottom she went "Uhhh!" She was tight and hot, and there was a burrito smell in the air as I opened her up. While I fucked her, I got my hand underneath and played with her clit and her pussy lips some more, and it had the effect I was expecting. A little orgasm trembled through Cherry and her pussy oozed juice onto my probing fingers.

The climax made her ass clench, like a hard fist around my cock. It was all I could do to move it, but somehow I did, and a moment later I began to unload deep inside her rectum. She collapsed beneath me, onto the floor, and I fell atop her, still plugged in, still squirting out my load, rabbit-fucking my cock in and out of her ass in short hard strokes. It was like I was getting my first piece of PT ass ever, all over again.

I came out of her, finally, still hard, and I lifted her head off the floor. She was glazy-eyed, slack-jawed, and seeing double, which meant there must have been two cocks aimed at her face. I saw her blink, as if she were trying to choose which one of them to take in her mouth. I saved her the trouble and thrust myself inside.

As she sucked on my cock, fresh out of her asshole, she looked up at me with those big brown innocent eyes. No matter how big a whore she acted, the expression in those eyes could still warm your heart. If _only_ I'd met her when she was eight, she could maybe have been one of the all-time queens of the biz. As it was, I doubted I'd ever see a Latina PT who was quite in her league.

I was really sorry it had come down to this, but there was nothing I could do about it. Cherry was growing up, and a little too fast. She cleaned me with her tongue, smacking her lips as she sucked the cum off my rod. She held me there until I began to go soft.

"Great, as always, Cherry," I told her, patting her head. She smiled, her eyes still glazed over. I rubbed my cock on her face to wipe away the drool she'd left on it, then stood up and tucked it back into my pants. I went to the filing cabinet and searched for the folder with her name on it.

"Your contract," I said. She took it from my hands. "Tear it up, honey. You're now officially free to follow your own star. Wherever it leads you."

Cherry sat up. She took the contract in her hands and looked up at me, then ripped it in two. "I had a good time working for you, Ray. No hard feelings?" I shook my head.

Her tits looked even bigger when she was sitting up. The rash-like redness of her shaved pussy showed at the bottom of her belly. There was no question she was pubertal.

"No hard feelings, honey. So what name are you going to use at SYC?"

"Uh, I figured I'd just keep on being Cherry Rodriguez, you know? People know that name. I'm a star now, you know? They look for me on the boxes. But I'm gonna be even bigger ... "

I smiled sadly. "That name is a PTHC trademark, sweetie. You can't take it with you when you change studios. Put those pieces of your contract back together and look at article 8, sub-section 3. It's all there. Oh, and you'll have to get the tattoo removed or altered. It's also a registered PTHC trademark. Article 12, sub-section 5."

"My Virgin of Guadalupe?" she asked, tears welling in her eyes.

"Yeah, sorry. Maybe you could get it turned into a giant butterfly or something. Or maybe a picture of a donkey looking over its shoulder and saying 'The GOP can kiss my ASS.' Here, take this card. Louie at Tats R Us should be able to give you a few more suggestions. He does the alterations on all of our ex-talent. What the hell, hon, ask him for the PTHC discount. But the first time you show that tat in a production for any of our competitors, I'll shut 'em down with a federal injunction."

I wasn't kidding. I'd done it before. A couple of years ago Max Hardcore snookered Belinda Swallow away from us. The damn fool even used her company name in his PR. My mouthpiece went straight to the Supremes, and Clarence Thomas wrote the opinion upholding PTHC. It was a 9-0 vote. Our contracts are air-tight. You can fuck all the niChicana-olds you want to, but you don't fuck with a major corporation.

Cherry looked like someone had just shot her pony. I don't enjoy being a meanie, any more than the next guy, but business is business. If she went to a coRodriguez'sshe'd have to start fresh there. She wasn't taking anything from PTHC with her. We created her image, and it belonged to us. If we wanted, we could find another kicky little chicana and turn her into the all-new Cherry Rodriguez, with the same name, the same Virgin of Guadalupe ass-tat, and everything.

Hmmm, might not be a bad idea to do just that. PTHC could build itself a perpetual stable of Cherry Rodriguezes. I mean, you don't think there was only _one_ Lassie, do you? The fucking dog dies and they bring in a lookalike. Not even Timmy could tell the difference.

I'd have had to let Cherry go anyway. In a couple of months she'd look ridiculous starring in PTHC productions. Guys who want tits and hair don't buy our DVDs; they buy Lucky 13 and Junior Miss Slut. She wouldn't last at SYC, but that one-year contract was going to cost them out the fucking ass. I wasn't losing anything I would not have lost soon anyway, even if Jesse Harmon hadn't poached my preserve.

In six months, tops, SYC would buy out her deal and she'd be working for Max Hardcore, with razor stubble on her cunt, trying to slouch so her tits wouldn't stick out so far, and saying, "Please, Mister, don't piss in my mouth, I'm only five years old." And nobody would believe a word of it. Cherry's career was almost over.

She stood up and began to put her clothes back on. "I really hate to leave you, Ray," she said. "Maybe we could talk about that deal at SYC. Maybe you could offer me just a little bit more money, and some perks, and..." She stared at me, big brown eyes hopeful.

I wasn't paying attention. Cherry Rodriguez was the past. I was thinking about the future.

I mulled over the changes we'd have to make for Thursday's shoot. It was a Cherry gang-bang production. But Cherry was gone. Who could we get to play the lead? Well, hell, I told myself, why not just toss the dice?

Chrissy was already slated to make her feature debut in the production, but instead of a supporting role, I'd give her the lead. Could she handle it, her first time at bat? Something told me the sweet-faced little blonde just _might_ be able to do it.

Anyway, we were going to need a new feature girl, fast, to replace Cherry Rodriguez on the roster. I already had Chrissy on the stardom track; all I had to do was just push her along it, a little faster than I'd planned.

While Cherry wiggled into her skin-tight mini and slipped her feet into those whorish spikes, I was planning a crash publicity campaign.

The full-page ads in Variety, the 30-second spots on Spike and ESPN. "Chrissy Sweet. The next big name in hardcore. Remember this face. And we know you won't forget this pussy."

"Sweet" was just such a perfect name for her, because she was sooo fucking sweet. Those big blue eyes and long blonde pigtails, those cute little lslam-fuckedd around a throbbing cock, her hairless pussy moist with anticipation, she was the little girl every guy wishes lived next door, the daughter every daddy would _really_ like to have.

Mmm, I could see the promos now. A closeup of my dick sliding out of Chrissy's cunt with her virgin blood all over it. A closeup of her cute little face drenched in the gushing load of Billy's long black cock. A lingering shot of those big blue eyes rolling over in their sockets as she was slamfucked into a moaning orgasm.

We needed to get the tv spots lined up, like yesterday! Leno, Stern, Larry King, ET, Nick News ... the whole circuit. Cherry was supposed to present Best Supporting Actor at the Oscars, in two weeks, but she could hardly do that now, since she was no longer Cherry Rodriguez. I buzzed Melissa on the intercom and told her to call the Academy about a last-minute substitution and to get Donna Karan busy making a killer gown for Chrissy Sweet to wear to the awards.

By the time her first DVDs hit the stands, people would be waiting in line for the chance to buy one. If the kid had the stuff -- and I was sure she did, even though I'd only fucked her once -- she was going to be stratospheric. I was thinking maybe 300,000 units. No new girl has ever sold that many, first time out, but I had a sensation in my bones that maybe history was in the making.

And even if it took all night for the editing, we had to have a very special trailer on the new Lolita Lust DVD that was going out at the end of next week. Something to tell the world that there was bright new star at PTHC, and that she was going to make a real splash in the world of entertainment.

Cherry sulked her way out the door but she was already as dead to me as yesterday's bran flakes. The future was blonde and cute as a button. But it always is, in this town.

(Continued in Part 4)