Ironface REDUX

If you don’t know what Ironface is, SHAME on you! But it’s not to late to fix this problem and repair that gaping hole in your life. Start here. From there, go visit, throw a sub at his face, and search his vods for more Ironface stories (trust me, they’re there).

Lastly, come back here and enjoy the fruits of my labor: the 3-part Ironface fanfic I wrote which was part inspired by DP of the SourKooliadShow, and part inspired by Ezekiel III cosplaying as a gender-fluid sexual gimp for Halloween one year.

One day, my crazy brain thought “what would happen if these two characters ever met in the same universe, face-to-face?” And my silly brain kept getting fun ideas about what exactly would happen that made me giggle out loud and made strangers look at me funny. Eventually, enough of these ideas piled up like a big giant shitberg in my brain and I decided that I needed to expel the thoughts in story form in order to finally get some peace. The story you’ll read below (or see, if you decide to watch the video instead) was the result.

As for Part II and Part III, well, that’s not all on me. Blame chat. They were the idiots/assholes who DEMANDED more. And who am I to deny the people what they want? Honestly.

This video is horribly edited – the actual reading doesn’t start until about 13:30, so feel free to fast-forward if your short attention span demands it. PS: Fuck you, Scott (zekeYUP)

In the downtown area of Hoboken, NJ, a political protest was in full swing. There were protesters and counter-protesters on both sides of the line, shouting and screaming and chanting and waving signs. The local police force was standing by, confident that they could handle the situation if anything went awry. It was chaos, but none of the incivility had erupted into violence…yet.  

Little did they know that The Glitch Bitch was about to crash the party.

A 6′ tall, sexually ambiguous human figure began slowly sauntering out of the shadows. S/he was dressed in a tight leather gimp suit from head to toe. They brandished a long, nylon, steel-tipped whip that clinked along the asphalt as Glitch Bitch made a slow, menacing approach. The frothing protesters were so wrapped up in shouting at one another that nobody noticed. 

At the edge of the crowd, Glitch Bitch found their first victim. An unnaturally low, almost robotic voice permeated the air and sent chills down everyone’s spine – including Chad. Before Glitch Bitch showed up, he was holding a tiki torch and shaking it angrily in the air with both hands. But when he heard that malevolent voice reach out to him from the darkness, he froze and turned toward the source of the voice. His eyes were wide with horror. 

“I think someone needs to whip you into shape, you dirty, naughty little boy,” Glitch Bitch said right before striking. S/he yanked the whip in sweeping arcs above and below Chad. The razor-sharp tip of the whip sliced cleanly through his wrists and ankles, severing them from his body. Embers from the torch he was holding fell into his eye sockets, causing the young man’s eyeballs to literally melt and bleed down his cheeks. 

“Dear GOD! What is that thing?!” Cried Jenny as Chad’s body crumpled into a twitching, shrieking heap at her feet. But this was a mistake. The noise Jenny made attracted the attention of Glitch Bitch. 

Their leather catsuit squeaked noisily as Glitch Bitch tucked away the whip and pulled out a large, flat paddle. The business side of said paddle had a strange texture to it, like that of a meat tenderizer. “You look like the type of nasty little slut who enjoys a good spanking,” Glitch Bitch groaned before grabbing her by the hair and bending her over their knee. 

Before Jenny could protest, Glitch Bitch started paddling her furiously with the rough side of the paddle. S/he hit Jenny so hard, the skin of her ass cheeks started staining her pants with fresh, crimson blood. Glitch Bitch shuddered with pleasure before letting go of Jenny’s hair and drop-kicking her back into the crowd. 

By then, people had started stampeding away from the carnage in a panic. The cops began to notice the panic and wondered if something might be wrong. It wasn’t long before the throngs of people had cleared out enough for them to see the terrifying visage of Glitch Bitch sashaying in their general direction, whipping people to pieces left and right. 

“Who the hell is she?” cried police commissioner Monroe.

“Don’t you mean ‘he’?” Officer Frank corrected him. He was a recent graduate of the police academy, and tonight was his first night on the job. Sadly, it was looking to be his last.

“I’ve heard it’s less offensive to use ‘they/their’ if you aren’t sure,” his senior partner, officer O’Brien added. 

“Damn, pronouns are hard!” Officer Frank cried out in frustration.

“Not as hard as I am right now,” moaned Glitch Bitch. S/he raised a hand in the air and gave Officer Frank a concussive backhanded slap with a studded leather glove. The metal studs sank deeply into Frank’s face flesh, tearing huge, bloody gashes across his face. Those gashes would later heal into scary, badass scars which would get him a ton of pussy. Because chicks dig scars.

The police commissioner and his officers retreated a safe distance as Glitch Bitch turned to attack other protesters in the crowd. Once they were no longer in the murderous monster’s sights, the commissioner exclaimed “we can’t do this alone! We need backup!”

“But who can we call? The national guard? The army? The nuclear missiles?” O’brien asked, desperate for an answer. 

Monroe shook his head sadly. “No. There’s only one person I know of who can take on a monster like that and live. We’re going to have to call…” and then he whispered a name under his breath that made his officers quake with fear.

[In another part of the city…]

Ironface was in the middle of a park, minding his own business, slowly choking 37 squirrels to death for fun. Suddenly, a bright light in the sky caught his attention. It stood out brightly against the low-hanging storm clouds. The signal was in the rough shape of a human face, but there was something oddly familiar about it. It had 14 screws in it: four on top, one in the middle, and four more below, with three and then two at last. Slits were cut for eyes where they would be on a normal human face. It was his face!

He was confused at first. Was that really his face in the clouds…or was it merely a trick of the light? Either way, it made him MAD. And it triggered his bloodthirsty urge to kill. He stomped angrily all over the squirrels, squishing them like wine grapes and leaving a bloody trail of squirrel fur and viscera as he marched toward the source of the light.

It wasn’t long before Ironface arrived at the scene. Seeing the carnage made him excited the way dead bodies usually do; on the other hand, he was angry that he wasn’t the one who had made them dead. He heard the crack of a whip from a short distance away and craned his neck to see where the noise was coming from. 

When Ironface and Glitch Bitch made eye contact from across the carnage, it was bloodlust at first sight. They both instinctively knew they were in a stare down with a fellow cold-blooded killer. Each felt a momentary twinge of mutual respect and erotic stimulation before urges to kill flooded back into their twisted minds.

“I’m going to have fun making you into my newest little strumpet-trumpet!” Glitch Bitch hissed under their breath. With that, Glitch Bitch raised their whip hand high above their head, flinging it around like a helicopter blade. S/he then brought the whip down in a sweeping arc, knocking 14 people out of the way (including Steve and Karen). The shockwave of the whip hitting the ground cracked the asphalt in a straight line which ended at Ironface’s feet. 

Ironface started bounding toward Glitch Bitch, unintentionally crushing a protestor’s skull under the weight of his spiked boot like an M&M. He then launched himself 12 meters in the air, barrel-rolling toward Glitch Bitch head-first.

Glitch Bitch reacted quickly. S/he cracked their whip in the air and wrapped the end of it around Ironface’s neck, pulling him off to the side and slamming him down into the asphalt. Ironface was unscathed save for a tiny drop of crimson that the steel tip of the whip pricked from his neck. 

Nobody makes me bleed my own blood Ironface thought, seething with hatred under his mask. He grabbed the whip and pulled Glitch Bitch toward him, wrapping his massive muscular hand around their slender, delicate throat. Then he began to squeeze. 

Glitch Bitch quickly pulled out a pair of nipple clamps and twisted them onto Ironface’s chest until his nipples began to bleed. Ironface started squeezing their throat even harder, bringing Glitch Bitch’s face within an inch of his. Glitch Bitch could feel the metallic sting of Ironface’s hot breath penetrating their nostrils. 

“Choke me harder, daddy” Glitch Bitch insisted, bloodshot eyes bulging from their sockets as tears begin to roll down their cheeks.

A line of policemen and the police commissioner stood by dumbfoundedly as the two killers faced off. Their mouths were agape with equal amounts of horror, awe, and disgust. Finally, commissioner Monroe broke the silence.

“It may have been a mistake to call for help from Ironface,” he sighed. 

“Ya think?!” cadet Jared cried frustratedly. 

Suddenly, a large brigade of state troopers showed up, their vehicles screeching to the scene with sirens blazing. They were followed by armored vehicles filled with Space Force marines. 50 caliber machine guns were mounted on the top of all 5 vehicles. 

Ironface released Glitch Bitch from his grip and turned to face this new development. Glitch Bitch crumpled to the ground for a moment before getting up and brushing themselves off, an aroused smile on their face. They then picked their whip back up off the ground and took a step forward, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Ironface. 

Glitch Bitch looked at the newcomers, then looked back at Ironface with a penetrative stare. “Shall we?” s/he purred. Ironface gave them a small, solemn nod. 

With that, Glitch Bitch and Ironface turned to face their foes and charged into battle. Glitch Bitch once again helicoptered their whip and slammed it down onto the road with terrifying force. The shock wave rippled through the street, flipping all of the highway patrol cars and turning 3 armored vehicles on their sides once it hit. The exposed highway patrol officers fled in terror into the darkness. Urine stains started snaking down their pants as they ran. 

The Space Force marines were not so easily intimidated. Two of them hopped onto the remaining 50 cal machine guns and began firing with a vengeance. The other soldiers pulled out their lazer blasters and did the same. Their leader, Corporal Gonzaga, whipped out an ultrasonic electric nightstick and started slowly approaching Ironface in a defensive stance. 

Ironface stepped in front of Glitch Bitch, protecting them from the 50 cal bullets by using his mask as a shield. The mask became molten-hot from the barrage of bullets; but the pain only fueled Ironface’s rage. The guns were firing so fast and so furiously that they began to melt into the Space Force marines’ hands. The liquid metal melted their flesh and they fell to the ground, screaming in agony. 

The screams were music to Glitch Bitch’s ears. “Stop it, you’re making me horny!” Glitch Bitch cooed at them before turning to face Corporal Gonzaga. 

“I’m glad you came prepared. I love it when one of my little skanks brings their own toys to the party,” s/he said, sensually rubbing their hand down the side of their leather catsuit as they reached for their riding crop. But it wasn’t just any riding crop. The crop’s tongue was made of sandpaper instead of traditional leather. It was crafted from the coarsest grade of sandpaper Glitch Bitch could find at Home Depot that day. 

“I’ll spank you with mine if you promise to spank me with yours,” Glitch Bitch suggested, flashing their eyebrows lasciviously.

Corporal Gonzaga swung his electric baton at Glitch Bitch’s knee. Glitch Bitch flinched at the last second, absorbing the blow with their calf. “Oh Jesus! Jesus Christ!” Glitch Bitch cried excitedly as the electric shocks danced up and down their body. 

Ironface turned around and punched Corporal Gonzaga in the side of his head. He punched him so hard, he shattered every bone in Gonzaga’s left ear, rendering him instantly def. He then grabbed Corporal Gonzaga by his crotch and his throat, lifted him high into the air, and brought the Space Force marine down across his knee. The force of the blow snapped Gonzaga’s spine like a twig. He then roughly dropped the corporal to the ground in a mangled heap. It was pretty obvious that Gonzaga was dead. 

“That was so hot! My codpiece is soaked right now,” Glitch Bitch said breathlessly. The commissioner, who was hiding among a pile of dead bodies for camouflage, secretly wondered to himself soaked with what? 

But he didn’t dare utter the question out loud.  

Glitch Bitch and Ironface locked eyes with one another again, triumphant smiles on their faces (although you couldn’t see Ironface’s). “Let’s go back to my place and do butt sex stuff to each other” Glitch Bitch suggested, leering at Ironface with a sensual, predatory stare. 

Ironface gave Glitch Bitch a playful pat on the ass which, due to his super-strength, launched Glitch Bitch a foot into the air and caused them to fall flat on their face. 

Glitch Bitch recovered quickly, turning to look back up at Ironface coquettishly while licking the blood off of their teeth. Ironface helped them up, and the two stone cold killers walked hand-in-hand into the blood-red sunset. 

Ironface REDUX Pt. 2: A Song of ICE and Fire and Pain

Y’all know what this shit is about by now. And if not – how the fuck did you get here?!

Obligatory links are obligatory:

Enjoy Ezekiel III himself performing a dramatic reading of Part II! And when you’re done with that, enjoy Part III!

Dolphins ain’t nuttin’ to fuck with, y’all!

At the US Mexico border in the southwestern part of Texas, a large horde of ICE agents had locked down the crossing and weren’t letting anyone through. Despite this, a flamboyantly dressed man in a leather jacket was still trying his best to welcome a caravan of female asylum seekers into the country. The man had long, curly hair adorned with a floppy velvet top hat. He wore white glasses and his teeth were covered in some sort of shiny metal. When he addressed the ice agents, it was hard for them to understand him because he had a very strong lisp. Nevertheless, he persisted.

‘Why are you trying to prevent these beautiful, respectable bitches from entering this wonderful land of freedom and opportunity?” The pimp named Sweetness insisted. “The only thing these hoes are trying to do is make a better life for themselves by providing my clientele with the spicy mochachino pussy that they desire!” [Don’t read this part, but maybe ad lib a longer rant here in the true spirit of Sweetness? Your call. Have fun with it]

In the middle of Sweetness’ rant, the ICE agent he was talking to rolled his eyes at the belligerent pimp and flipped the switch on his ice blaster ray gun. A high-pitched electronic whine grew slowly less audible as the weapon charged up. “Move along, sir. We’re not going to let these filthy illegal immigrants take jobs away from hard-working American prostitutes!” ICE agent Jethro insisted. 

“Um, excuse me, but bitches these days prefer to be referred to as ‘sex workers’, thank you very much!” Sweetness corrected him. Little did Sweetness know that Jethro had a very short temper, and was starting to get angry. Jethro lifted his ice laser gun and started to slowly squeeze the trigger when sweetness pulled out his smartphone and began recording.

“This Is police brutality! This is unconstitutional! this is a travesty and an abomination of our American rights for life, and liberties, and the pursuit of sexual happiness! Shame on you, sir! SHAME!” Sweetness ranted, holding his phone in the air. 

A handful of fellow ICE agents saw that Jethro was in trouble and slowly approached the ruckus. All of them flicked their ice blasters on, and the audible sound of the weapons screeching to life made Sweetness begin to lower his phone. The agents gathered around him in a semicircle, guns aimed and ready, backing him up against the under-construction border wall. 

Sweetness lifted a hand to pimp-slap the ICE agents into submission, but the agents were too quick for him. One of them got a shot off and pinned Sweetness’ pimp hand up against the wall, freezing it in place. Sweetness pulled at his own wrist, struggling to get his hand free from the block of ice when something completely unexpected happened…

[5 minutes earlier, on the other side of the under-construction border wall]

The air above the asphalt shimmered with the ambient heat of the desert as Glitch Bitch and Ironface walked north on CH Highway 67 through the eastern region of Chihuahua, México. 

“You know, I wouldn’t be sweating my nards off right now if you had just BEHAVED like we DISCUSSED!” Glitch Bitch shouted angrily. 

Ironface shrugged, which was probably the closest thing Glitch Bitch would ever get to an actual apology. The two hadn’t spoken since they washed up on the western shore of the Gulf of Mexico a couple of days earlier. But their journey there was quite a treck indeed. 

The unlikely couple met for the first time several weeks ago when they massacred a group of protesters, soldiers, and law enforcement officers together. It was the most violently romantic experience either of them had ever had. After several months of erotic exploration and double murder, Glitch Bitch decided to surprise Ironface with a holiday gift. S/he bought some discount tickets for a Caribbean Christmas Couples Cruise on Carnivore Cruise Lines. Glitch Bitch tried to teach Ironface how to behave during the day so that they could enjoy their vacation undetected. And if he was a good boy, then they would sneak into the cabins of other passengers at night and murder them to death with sexual torture. That way, they could enjoy their cruise without getting kicked off the boat and also satisfy their insatiable bloodlust.

Unsurprisingly, Glitch Bitch’s plan didn’t last long. It was just before noon on the first day when Ironface snapped. He was sitting on the edge of the kiddie pool and soaking his feet in the warm water when he noticed that two small toddlers standing next to him were excreting yellow clouds of urine into the pool. That made him MAD. So he grabbed both children by the throat and started slamming their skulls together repeatedly.

Everyone started running around and screaming in terror. Cruise boat security tried to control Ironface’s violent rage, but they weren’t very effective. They couldn’t stop Ironface from continuing his bloody rampage as he stormed over to the nativity scene. All the figurines were wearing miniature leis, flamingo-print shorts, and tiny flip-flops. The baby jesus was holding a tiny coconut with a miniature straw and a paper umbrella sticking out of the top. But unfortunately for baby Jesus, this tacky display was about to be weaponized for murder.

Ironface started by shot-putting the three wise men figurines into the crowd of angry people who were trying to stop him. 17 families and 4 dogs were brutally murdered in the process. Ironface then stomped violently all over the baby Jesus, smashing it into 500 million pieces and shaking the entire boat like an earthquake. A couple of young newlyweds were at the front of the boat trying to recreate an iconic scene from the movie Titanic when this happened. The violent shaking sent them tumbling over the rails where they were viciously and sexually assaulted to death by a gang of young male dolphins shortly after hitting the water.

Finally, the Admiral of the boat climbed to the top of the cruise ship and manned the massive defense cannon that was mounted on top. He launched a cannonball the size of a Hyundai Prius straight into Ironface’s torso. It did not destroy his body (due to Ironface’s super strength of course), but it knocked him over the edge of the boat and sent him flailing into the ocean. Glitch Bitch cracked their whip around Ironface’s ankle and ended up getting dragged overboard with him.


Glitch Bitch and Ironface arrived at the Mexico/US border just in time to see a handful of ICE agents crowding around a man whose hand was pinned to the wall with ice. Women and children were locked up in makeshift cadges. Everyone except Sweetness and the ICE agents cowered in terror as la pesadilla de hierro approached. 

Glitch Bitch looked up at Ironface with an aroused eyebrow. “If you’re ready to get back on the bad side of my good side, here’s your chance,” s/he moaned. Ironface squatted down so that Glitch Bitch could hop onto his back. Then the two started dashing toward the ICE agents.

Glitch Bitch cracked their whip around an ICE agent’s arm. The razor-sharp steel tip severed the limb from his body and Glitch Bitch reeled it back in, ice blaster ray gun still clutched in the now-dead hand. The gun purred with a high-pitched hum that got Glitch Bitch moist with excitement. S/he jumped off of Ironface’s back and began firing, turning several of the ICE agents into human ice sculptures. 

As Glitch Bitch set them up, Ironface knocked them down like hollow bowling pins. He punched the frozen ICE agent Jethro with an uppercut that shattered his body into 37 separate pieces and launched them into the thermosphere, where they instantly caught on fire. The body parts then fell back to Earth, igniting wildfires and burning down houses and bridges. The agent’s flaming head landed in a large bowl of Karen’s raisin-potato salad at a local neighborhood cookout. Attendees were even more horrified by the severed head than they were by the bland, disgusting side dish it had rendered inedible. 

Glitch Bitch was overwhelmed with excitement at the sight of all the carnage – so much so that s/he started dry-humping the nearest frozen ICE agent. Ironface looked back over his shoulder, saw what was happening, and flew into a jealous rage. He destroyed Glitch Bitch’s new frozen sex doll with three violent spinning back-kicks. Glitch Bitch was knocked to the ground while a set of keys flew from the belt of the murdered ICE agent and fell right in front of one of the cages. 

Sweetness’ bitches grabbed the keys and freed themselves just as the world-renowned pimp was finally able to loose himself from the wall. He gathered his new hoes and herded them over to some shelter. Then he pulled out his phone again. “Hello?! Operator?! Yes, yes, I need your help!” He cried into the phone. “I need to make an interstellar collect call to my brother from another other-worldly mother! Right now! This is an emergency of pimptastical proportions!” 

The remaining ICE agents started to fight back by removing detained MS-13 gang members from their cells. The prisoners – bound but not gagged – were then forced into the buckets of the ICE catapults. The agents doused them with gasoline and set them on fire moments before launching them over the under-construction border wall at Ironface and Glitch Bitch. The ICE agents had hoped that their screams of terror and pain would intimidate the enemy. Little did they know that that’s exactly what Glitch Bitch and Ironface wanted to hear.

The launching of the flaming prisoners only accomplished two things. One, the flaming prisoners set all of the unused building materials on fire, delaying construction of the border wall and costing millions and millions of dollars in damage. Two, it provided the perfect distraction for what was about to happen next. 

A dark stormcloud seemed to appear out of nowhere in the middle of the clear blue sky. As it grew larger and larger, an ominous rumble rippled from within. The thunder grew defeningly loud as the cloud expanded into a mass of smoke and flame that blocked out the sun. Finally, a pink and gold spaceship slowly descended from the sky and flew back and forth over the scene, indiscriminately firing its laser guns at everything in its way. It swept a path southeast to northwest and back, vaporizing the remaining ICE agents into pink mist and setting the entire border wall on fire. The wall exploded section by section, from California to Texas, crumbling to ash and destabilizing the soil beneath so that nothing could ever be built there ever again. 

Amongst the chaos and rampant destruction, the spaceship landed near the shelter where Sweetness and his new bitches were cowering. Sweetness and his friend Bubblegum, the Intergalactic Pimp of the Future, figured that the smoke and the panic would give them enough time to load the bitches up into the ship and blast off to a Playa’s Christmas Ball on Uranus. But Glitch Bitch and Ironface had miraculously survived the barrage and started running in their direction. The deadly pair were far from done with their killing spree. 

The pimps were only halfway through getting the bitches on board when a nylon whip cracked through the smoke and decapitated Rosalita. As Glitch Bitch was trying to retract the whip, Bubblegum grabbed it in midair and yanked them forward. S/he flew through the cloud of smoke and landed face-first into backhand side of Bubblegum’s Bitch-Slappin’ Glove™. The disorienting force of the blow sent Glitch Bitch sailing 23 meters back across the border into Mexico. This time, the Glitch Bitch didn’t get back up.

With Glitch Bitch out of the way, Bubblegum bullet-jumped forward into the mist. His pink-ass pimp cape fluttered beautifully behind him as he barreled head-first into Ironface’s torso and knocked him on his ass. Ironface’s abdominal muscles were still sore from the cannonball and the blow knocked the wind out of him.  

Bubblegum had Ironface right where he wanted him. He walked up to his injured foe with his pink space pistol drawn and his finger on the golden trigger. Ironface was doubled over with his hand on his side, gasping for air. Bubblegum aimed the barrel of his pimp-gun right at the lone screw in the middle of Ironface’s mask and pulled the trigger. This looked like the end for Ironface. 

Except it wasn’t. The blast ricocheted off the iron mask like it was nothing, doing little more than loosening that middle screw. Ironface looked up at Bubblegum, glaring pure rage at him from underneath the eyeholes of his mask as he grasped the barrel of the gun. He crushed the pistol in his bare hand like it was made of aluminum foil and stood back up on his own two feet. 

Bubblegum tossed the pistol aside and pulled out his Ma’Tok staff. He dashed and danced around Ironface, unleashing a volley of lightening-quick strikes with the two-handed weapon – but Ironface was just too fast for him. He dodged every blow as if he knew they were coming. Ironface eventually snatched the staff out of Bubblegum’s hands, pulled the trigger, and blew a basketball-sized hole through his torso with it. But he wasn’t done yet. He grabbed Bubblegum by the shoulder, he used his other hand to plant the staff firmly into the ground, and he impaled Bubblegum upon it. When Ironface noticed that Bubblegum was still breathing, he grabbed his pink-ass pimp cape and slowly choked him to death until the Pimp of the Future was no more. 

After he knew his foe was dead, Ironface began desperately searching for Glitch Bitch. He eventually found their unconscious body sprawled out in the middle of the desert and fell to his knees by their side. Ironface picked up Glitch Bitch, cradling them in his arms and glaring angrily up into the sky. It was then that he noticed the pink and gold MOAB bomb dropping right on top of him. The bomb was falling so fast that he barely had time to brace for the explosion. 

[Scene Change]

Inside the cockpit of the ship, Sweetness was watching the whole fight on camera. Pimp tears of Cristal Champagne streamed down his cheeks as he pawed at the video screen which showed his pimp-friend dying. The bitches were hovering over his shoulders and crying quiet tears of their own. Suddenly, In his deepest moment of despair, an indicator light blinked on the console which read “Press X to Resurrect”. Sweetness slammed his hand down on the button and Bubblegum was instantly teleported back into the cockpit, alive and well. 

Bubblegum patted himself in disbelief before exclaiming “Fuck this planet! Let’s get the fuck outta here!” in a voice that was eerily identical to Sweetness’. He took his seat in the captain’s chair and began readying the ship for takeoff. Sweetness and his new bitches followed suit and strapped in for a rough departure.

“But before we do that…” Bubblegum mused to himself before pressing a big, red button labeled Extremely Dangerous Bomb – Emergency Use Only. “Choke me like a bitch again, muthafucka! I dare ya! Take THAT, ya bitch ass ho!” Bubblegum yelled.

The two pimps and their hoes watched with anticipation as the bomb fell to earth and exploded in a magnificent blast of ash and flame. The mushroom cloud could be seen from hundreds of miles away. 

“Happy birthday Jesus, and God Bless America!” The bitches heard Sweetness exclaim as they flew out of sight. Bubblegum pressed another button and they began zooming toward Uranus at ludicrous speed.

[Back on Earth…]

The bomb exploded with such force that it blew a crater in the earth 18 meters wide and 6 feet deep. The environment was devastated. One could hear nary a cricket chirp in the wake of the battle. That evening, the sun set and the night sky twinkled beautifully over a field of mushy, thawing body parts which were being pecked at by carrion birds. As the full moon traipsed across the deep navy backdrop of glistening stars, it cast a pale light deep down into the epicenter of the bomb’s crater. 

At first glance, one may have disregarded it as merely a trick of the light; but at second, it was undeniably clear that the earth was stirring. After a few seconds of dry soil shifting and undulating, a large, muscular fist burst out of the ground. It was clutching a black nylon whip with a razor-sharp steel tip that glinted in the pale moonlight.


(Since some of your fuckers bitched about it last time, here’s a fucking teaser in a boxed paragraph at the end of this story advertising the next one. YOU’RE WELCOME!)

If you missed part one of the Ironface REDUX series – Ironface vs. Glitch bitch: THE SHOWDOWN! – feel free to browse the vods at or ask Scott to get up off his lazy ass and upload it to YouTube already (PS: fuck you, Scott)

Also, you really need to check out the original Ironface stories from DP of The Sour Koolaid Show if you haven’t already. Without DP’s horrifically violent imagination as a young boy, Ironface REDUX wouldn’t exist and credit needs to be given where it’s due, damn it. Thank you DP for being a drunken inspiration and giving me an excuse to get back in touch with my own terrifying inner child.

But wait! The Ironface REDUX series isn’t over yet! What happened to the Glitch Bitch?! Why is Ironface wielding their whip now?!? And will mankind ever make it to Mars? Find out the answers to these important questions and more in the third and final installment of the Ironface REDUX series: Ironface In SPAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACE!!!

Ironface REDUX Pt. 3: The Iron Nightmare Goes to Mars

If you’ve made it this far, I shouldn’t need to write another introduction. But still, obligatory links are obligatory:

If you like any or all of the Ironface goodness you’ve seen so far, you should be throwing subs at their faces! Or other body parts! Whatever floats your boat.

And no, there won’t be any other Ironface stories. Not from me, anyway. But who knows what the future will bring, especially with regard to some of the other characters in this fictional universe?

Ironface woke up in pure blackness. The last thing he remembered was the pink & gold MOAB bomb falling on top of him and exploding in front of his face. The force of the explosion knocked him out and buried him deep underground. When he woke up, he punched his way out of the dirt and back into the land of the living.  

A steel-tipped nylon whip was coiled tightly in his meaty fist. The whip belonged to the love of his life, the Glitch Bitch. Ironface looked around, but Glitch Bitch was nowhere to be found. Ironface had been holding their unconscious body in his arms when the bomb exploded on top of them. He pawed at the soft earth which he had just emerged from, but no amount of digging showed any sign of the Glitch Bitch. He had no choice but to accept the fact that s/he had died in the explosion. 

This made Ironface very sad. He clenched the whip tightly, his balled-up fists shaking with rage. He ripped the razor-sharp tip of the whip off of one end. Then he ripped the soft nylon body of the whip out of the top of the handle. Finally, he shoved the steel tip into the handle, creating a makeshift butcherknife.

It had been a very long time since Ironface had held a blade in his hand. It felt familiar and comforting. But it was missing one thing: the blood of the innocent. Ironface knew exactly how to fix this problem, though. He would make his way to NASA, steal a rocket ship, and track down the murdering pimps who had stolen his love from him. And he would brutally murder anyone who got in his way. 

When he finally got to NASA headquarters, his first stop was the chinese food restaurant just down the street. Ironface ripped the back door out of its frame and stormed into the kitchen where the line cook, Jackie J., was chopping vegetables with a giant butcher knife of her own. The knife looked shiny and sharp, and Ironface wanted it. But Jackie refused to give it up.

“Hey, this is a private kitchen, you’re not allowed to be in here?” Jackie screamed at the masked murderer. Instead of listening to her, Ironface grabbed one of the giant carrots she was chopping and shoved it into her left eye socket. The pointy end sliced through the back of her skull. She was still alive and flailing, though, so Ironface took the other carrot and shoved it through her other eye. Then he punched her in the face, and her skull exploded into bloody chunks of brain, bone, and carrot. It was all over the walls and the ceiling and the countertops. The cleaning crew wept openly when they finally saw the mess. 

He grabbed the cook’s knife and fled from the kitchen before the police arrived. Now Ironface had TWO butcher knives. He had never killed people using two blades at the same time before. He smiled the smile of a black-hearted killer, because he knew things were about to get bloody. 

Ironface arrived at NASA Headquarters just in time. They were about to launch a new rocket to Mars, and the countdown sequence was winding down. Instead of taking the elevator up to the catwalk, Ironface scaled the scaffolding in three 18-foot vertical leaps. When he got to the top and climbed up onto the catwalk, he came face to face with Debbie the astronaut. 

“Hey, this is a private launch pad, you’re not supposed to be here?” Debbie screeched at him. Debbie the astronaut thought she was so smart and pretty; but she wasn’t smart enough or pretty enough to avoid getting her throat slit wide open by Ironface’s razor sharp knives. He crossed his arms in an X and drew the sharp blades across both sides of her throat as he straightened his arms back out. The front of his shirt was soaked red with waterfalls of blood.

“10…9…8…” the loudspeakers blared. The command center was seconds away from launching the rocket into space. Ironface had only a few moments to get on board, or he might lose the opportunity to avenge his lover’s death forever. But there were a lot of people he still had to kill along the way, including astronauts Van and Larry. They ran out of the rocket towards him on the catwalk, hoping to intercept him. Instead, Ironface cut into Van’s belly and intercepted his large intestine. He ripped it out of his stomach and slapped him across the face with it, sending him tumbling nearly 35 meters to the ground. Van did not survive the fall and died with the smell of his own shit on his face.

“7…6…5…” the countdown continued. 

Larry met an even more gruesome fate. Ironface jabbed his thumb and two fingers into Larry’s mouth and eyes, snapping his head from his body at the neck and turning his now lifeless skull into a human bowling ball. Ironface tossed Larry’s head down the walkway towards the rocket, knocking fourteen more astronauts over the edge and sending them all tumbling to their deaths, screaming. 

“3…2…1…” the countdown was almost over. 

David and Greg, the last two remaining astronauts, were panicking in the cockpit of the rocket. Greg slammed his hand down on the launch button in a moment of pure terror. But launching the rocket early wasn’t enough to stop the bloody rampage. Ironface jumped onto the side of the rocket as it flew into the sky, inching his way up the outer wall until he found an airlock. He climbed inside and made his way to the cockpit where David and Greg thought that they would be safe. They were wrong. It only took a few seconds for Ironface to slice a large hole in the door with his knives.  

“Who are you? W-w-w-what do you want?” Greg stammered, trying his best not to wet himself. 

Ironface pointed a bloody knife out the cockpit window towards the red planet. “Mars,” he growled at them from beneath the mask. 

“Okay, but if we take you to Mars, you have to promise not to kill us!” David insisted firmly.

Ironface growled at them again from beneath the mask, but reluctantly sat down in one of the cockpit chairs and strapped in. It was hard to get comfortable because the chair was too small for his massive, muscular body, and his seatbelt was too tight. But he tolerated it long enough for the rocket to make it to Mars and for the three of them to land safely. Then he unbuckled his seatbelt, snuck up behind them, and stabbed them both in the back 37 times each. Both Greg and David died twitching in large pools of their own blood.

The rocket’s landing pad was located right next to a domed colony. After Ironface exited the rocket and entered the dome, the first thing he saw was a Martian brothel. It was filled with hookers and also had a bar in the lobby. Ironface figured that if his lover’s killers would be anywhere on Mars, it would be in an intergalactic house of ill repute. He stomped angrily as he made his way inside. 

Ironface kicked the front doors wide open with his massive boot and walked into the lobby. It was an expansive 2-story open space with a high balcony overlooking the ground floor. To his right was a small bar. An old man named Ben with wire-rimmed glasses, a goatee, and a black beanie with red and white trim sat at the bar drinking a Blue Moon. A small black-and-white cat was curled up on the stool next to him, sleeping peacefully. The bartender emerged from the kitchen with a freshly grilled hot dog. He served it to the old man with a nod and a smile.

Ironface hated the smell of beer and hot dogs, so the old man hand to die. He approached from behind as the old man was taking his first bite of the hot dog and stabbed him through the back of his skull, skewering the hotdog on his knife. When he pulled his knife back out, the hot dog was still on his bloody blade, so he ripped it off and squeezed it into mush with his meaty fist. Then he threw it on the ground angrily. The little cat hopped off the stool and started nibbling on the mushed food while his owner bled to death on the bar. 

Prostitutes and customers who witnessed the gory murder started running around and screaming in a panic. The double doors to the master suite on the second floor burst open, and an angry man with short pink hair and a horseshoe mustache walked out onto the balcony. The prostitutes that were in the bedroom with him were sad when he left them because he was such a sensual and attentive lover. But they were too scared to follow him out of the bedroom – all except for one prostitute in particular, who was wearing a leather gimp mask.

The BC Warrior was the most popular wrestler on all of Mars. He was naked except for a tight pair of black bikini underwear bottoms and dark sunglasses. When he saw the masked madman and his bloody knives, he knew it was up to him to beat him up and save all of the prostitutes from the Iron Nightmare’s murderous rampage. He grabbed the nearest chair, jumped down from the second floor balcony, and bashed Ironface over the head with it. 

“Brotherrrrr, you’re not supposed to be here!” The BC Warrior yelled, pointing at Ironface menacingly. He then bounced off some nearby velvet ropes and used the momentum to take a running charge at the masked man. He jump-kicked Ironface square in the chest, which sent both of them sprawling. They both scrambled to get back up, but Ironface was quicker. He grabbed the BC warrior by the throat and held him high in the air – but before he could impale him with his butcher knife, a sensual, almost robotic voice cried out from directly above and behind him.

“Don’t you dare hurt my new favorite lover!” The voice bellowed, followed almost instantly by the crack of a whip. The end of the whip curled around Ironface’s wrist and the razor-sharp steel tip severed the bloodthirsty murderer’s hand from his body, releasing The BC Warrior from his death grip.  

Ironface turned around and looked up to see a painfully familiar face staring down at him from the balcony. This time, he knew it wasn’t merely a trick of the light. His love, the Glitch Bitch, was alive and well – and had been hiding on Mars this whole time! Back when Glitch Bitch had regained consciousness after the explosion, s/he looked all over for Ironface, but couldn’t find him. S/he assumed that Ironface was dead. So the Glitch Bitch decided to move to Mars so s/he could spend the rest of their life murdering people with sensual torture in Ironface’s memory.

The Glitch Bitch hopped down from the balcony and approached Ironface with a forlorn expression. Ironface reached out with his remaining hand and began to slowly choke the Glitch Bitch until their eyes bulged from their sockets and tears began to roll down their cheeks. But before the Glitch Bitch could break out their trusty nipple clamps, their erotic reunion was rudely interrupted by the arrival of their arch enemies: Sweetness the Pimp and his friend, Bubblegum, The Intergalactic Pimp of the Future.

Both Sweetness and Bubblegum pulled out their guns and aimed their weapons at their two sworn adversaries. Prostitutes were screaming and customers were cowering in fear of the impending violence. “What the hell are you assholes doing in our brothel? You’re not supposed to be here!” Sweetness yelled. 

Iron face was getting pretty sick and tired of people telling him where he wasn’t supposed to be. 

He looked down at the bloody stump where his hand was no longer, then he looked at the large, cozy firepit which was keeping everyone in the lobby warm. Finally, he looked down at the butcher knife in his remaining hand and got an idea. Ironface shoved the handle of the butcher knife into his bloody stump and stuck his hand in the fire until the Flames melted his flesh securely around the knife handle. Now that knife would be a part of him forever, and no one would ever be able to stop him from killing again. 

Glitch Bitch, fully aroused by the smell of his seared flesh, fell in line next to Ironface and the two squared off against their enemies. “Shall we?” s/he moaned, barely able to contain their insatiable bloodlust. 

Ironface gave Glitch Bitch a brief nod, and the two charged at the formidable pimps. Glitch Bitch cracked the whip around Bubblegum’s gun, ripping it out of his hand. S/he slapped him across the face with his pink and gold pistol so hard that some of the gold dust residue was smeared across his cheek. Then the Glitch Bitch lept high into the air, launching themselves at Bubblegum’s face and wrapping their legs around his head. The pimp struggled helplessly as the Glitch Bitch squeezed and twisted. After a few seconds, his muffled cries were finally silenced forever when the pressure of Glitch Bitch’s muscular thighs crushed his head like a grape.

“Mmm…was it as good for you as it was for me?” the Glitch Bitched moaned as s/he lit up a cigarette over Bubblegum’s lifeless corpse. 

At the same time that the Glitch Bitch was taking care of Bubblegum, Ironface lunged at Sweetness. He knocked the gun out of Sweetness’ hand with a mighty roundhouse, then slashed his glasses off of his face with his knife-hand on the backspin. With his vision impared, Sweetness was unable to dodge Ironface’s next punch, which knocked his metal grill off his teeth and halfway down his throat, causing him to choke on it. The blow also knocked his velvet hat off his head, which Ironface caught in mid-air with his knife-hand. He tossed the pimp hat into the fire pit vindictively a moment before turning back around and plunging his knife-hand deep into Sweetness’ pimptastic heart. 

Ironface and Glitch Bitch looked at each other and breathed a sigh of relief now that their arch enemies were finally dead. They thought that maybe they could take over the brothel and live murderously ever after together on Mars, where annoying things like homicide laws and police didn’t exist. But this wasn’t going to happen. Unbeknownst to them, the self-destruct sequence on Bubblegum’s space ship was connected to a dead man’s switch. It had been counting down since the moment his pink heart stopped beating, and there was nothing that anyone could do to stop it. The explosion was so massive that it destroyed the entire planet of Mars, and everybody died.

The End. 

This is the very last story in the Ironface REDUX trilogy. I hope you enjoyed it. Obviously, these fics were inspired by DP’s Ironface stories that he wrote when he was a deranged little boy and now sometimes reads for fun on his stream. Thank you DP for providing the inspiration, thank you Zeke for bringing the stories to life by reading them so well, and thank you all for enjoying them as much as I’ve enjoyed writing them. 

PS: If you’re mad at me for ending this story, don’t worry, because I have many other stories to tell. And you’ll be able to read them, because I’m starting a blog! It’s something I’ve wanted to do for many years but didn’t have the courage to follow through on until you crazy fucks started giving me so much positive feedback. Thank you all. zekeLOVE  


This story isn’t just inspired by the amazing Nocturne show; it was inspired specifically by the events at the end of Episode 8: Welcome to the Darkness. If you haven’t seen it already, then: SPOILER ALERT!!! Do not read this or go any farther until you’re all caught up.

Otherwise, enjoy.

“If you f*cking kill yourself, then we can’t fix it!”

Brian put the barrel of the gun to his temple. His hands and his voice were shaking in a way that betrayed his resolve. “I’ve seen…I’ve seen things-“

“We’ve all seen some shit, Brian!” Briar insisted belligerently, her voice only a few decibels above a whisper. She inched closer, her eyes fixating on the gun in his hand, prompting him to take a defensive step back.

Brian took a deep breath and, in a moment of peaceful clarity, all of the tension in his body melted away on the exhale.

“Welcome to the darkness, Briar…” he bid her adieu.  

“Don’t you fucking do it-“

“…your eyes will adjust in time.”

“Don’t you fucking do it-” 

Briar lunged at him, but a quick squeeze of the trigger halted her halfway through the first step. 

-and then a brilliant white flash of light flooded his mind- 

Brian had never tried online dating before. Like some people, he was scared that the only women he would meet would be crazy or obsessed with their cats or totally catfishing him. But the beautiful woman sitting on the other side of their perfect-for-two coffee shop table was none of those things. 

Her name was Amy. She was smart, she was on the faculty at the local college, and he couldn’t help but notice that she smelled like lavender. Every time he thought he had put his foot in his mouth, she laughed at his dumb jokes. Every time he said something he thought an intellectual like her would find banal, she responded with a smile and an enthusiastic reply. At one point she accidentally burped out loud, catching herself with a shy blush and covering her mouth after suddenly remembering she was on a date. His first instinct was to chuckle and touch her hand, to let her know it was okay and that she hadn’t offended him. Her hand didn’t move; she welcomed his touch. 

and then a brilliant white flash of light flooded his mind-

They had been dating for over a year. He couldn’t see himself living without her. So when she told him about the job offer she’d received from a university on the other side of the country, it hit him like a wrecking ball. But this devastation brought on a moment of clarity.

He asked her to have lunch with him at the coffee shop where they first met. She thought it was strange that he was so insistent about it, but shrugged it off as ‘Brian being Brian’. She didn’t find out until later that he had spent a fistful of cash bribing some studious college kids to move so that he could have the same table they had sat at on their first date. When she finished her coffee and noticed something heavy rattling around in the paper cup, her eyes were big as saucers when she popped off the plastic lid and saw a coffee-stained diamond ring at the bottom. When she looked up, he was already down on one knee, trying not to cry. 

He barely succeeded. She failed miserably. The sound of her own voice saying “Yes! Yes,” over and over again was nearly drowned out by the other patrons applauding his successful proposal. 

and then a brilliant white flash of light flooded his mind-

Nine months ago, he came home from work to see his beautiful wife holding a white-and-purple stick in her hand. There was a plus sign on it. The flood of emotions rendered him speechless, soaking his cheeks with happy tears as he hugged her so tight he feared they both might burst. Now he was by her side in the delivery room and mopping the sweat from her brow. He did his best not to cry out in pain as she squeezed his hand with inconceivable strength during each contraction. 

Before he knew it, the worst was over and a nurse was gently placing a beautiful, healthy baby girl on his wife’s chest. They were both in tears. Amy couldn’t stop stroking and kissing her newborn daughter’s head. Brian was eagerly awaiting his chance to do the same. 

“She’s perfect,” Amy panted breathlessly. 

“Everything is perfect,” he said, his voice quivering. 

“Penny. I think we should call her Penny.”

Brian was so overcome with emotion that he was at a loss for words. He could only nod in approval. 

and then a brilliant white flash of light flooded his mind-

They had been fighting a lot lately. Brian had been fired from his job and money was tight. Amy kept bringing up that wonderful, high-paying job opportunity she had passed over so many years ago in order to settle down and start a family with him. As hard as they tried to keep their discontent to themselves, parent/teacher conferences with Penny’s school were becoming…disconcerting. 

Brian wanted more than anything for his wife and his daughter to be happy. But every effort he made to make their happiness a reality seemed to just make things worse. 

-and then a brilliant white flash of light flooded his mind- 

Brian found himself in a dark room. It was a bedroom. He felt like he was standing there, frozen in time. Amy was lying on the bed with Penny, now ten years old, curled up by her side. Blood soaked the sheets around their lifeless bodies. 

Brian was gaping at them in horror from the foot of the bed. The memory of their frantic, terrified screams permeated the darkness around him. The darkness consumed him, swallowing him up in an infinite void so deep that he hoped he would never hear the sound of those screams again. 

-and then a brilliant white flash of light flooded his mind- 

“How much longer? It…smells in here,” an annoyed voice bellowed loudly enough to stir Brian from his sleep. He vaguely remembered some nightmare about his late wife and daughter before the images flew from his mind like a dandelion in the wind. After blinking away the fog of sleep, he remembered that he was on a road trip with his professor and a few of his fellow students. They were on their way to a lecture which was – in some way – relevant to the material they were studying. 

The dashboard clock on the center console of the professor’s ancient vehicle read 4:30 PM. Without warning, the elderly sedan began to sputter, noxious fumes emanating from the hood of the car and the interior vents. The professor pulled the car over as far as the concrete barriers on either side of the road would let him. The lot of them popped the hood and dumbfoundedly poked and prodded at the engine while trying to figure out what to do about their predicament. 

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom guys-” Briar announced, pointing toward the concrete wall that was separating them from the woods. “I’m, just – I’m gonna go behind the wall but I’ll be right back.” 

“Holler if you need any help,” their fellow classmate, Trick, chuckled. 

“I will!” Briar replied, a hint of annoyance in her voice. 

A few moments later, Briar called out to them from the other side of the wall. “Does somebody wanna come see if they see what I see? Maybe it’s a wild animal,” her voice cracked nervously. 

After a few inappropriate interjections from Trick, Brian shook his head in disgust and volunteered to go help out. Despite the lingering tendrils of a hangover, he managed to lift himself up over the wall. And when he landed on the other side…

…Brian put the barrel of the gun to his temple.

Nicole’s Story

The teaser below was released before the premiere in order to introduce one of the main characters: Trick Magnum. He’s a former porn star (played by Ezekiel III) and at the time I wrote this, his backstory and career hadn’t been fully explored on the show. So my brain decided to fill in some gaps. If this contradicts future canon, I apologize. But for now…enjoy.

Let me help you…

My name is Nicole. When I first met Trick, I was a senior in high school. I was just like any other kid – so relieved and excited to finally fucking graduate, yet at the same time terrified and clueless as to what I was going to do with the rest of my life. Looking back on everything, everyone else seemed to live such perfect lives and had their shit so perfectly together that I guess I was kind of envious of it all. That’s how I ended up where I am today. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning. 

In order to really understand my story, you have to use a little imagination. Imagine a young, blonde-haired, green-eyed, good little Christian girl from Middle America, USA. Imagine she got straight A’s all her life and never disappointed her parents. Imagine that she loved animals and wanted to grow up to be a veterinarian. Now imagine that, despite growing up in middle-class suburbia, she couldn’t afford college on her own. Imagine that she worked so hard to apply for every single scholarship she could get her hands on, but got rejected by all of them, even the most obscure ones. Did you know that there are college scholarships available for left-handed people who want to write book reports about Ayn Rand’s shitty novels? I’m not even joking, that’s a real thing. 

Imagine that same girl sitting around the lunch table at school, listening to her friends gush about the thousands of dollars in scholarships that they had earned for themselves. Imagine that girl congratulating them with a big, sincere smile on her face and big, sad eyes which secretly envied their success. Now imagine one of the other kids at the lunch table noticed her sad eyes and quietly handed her a red business card with gold lettering on it. Imagine they told her that contacting the man that the card belonged to could change her life forever. 

The business card was a glossy, fuck-me-pumps red with embossed gold lettering. The front said Trick or Treat Productions. The back listed an email address and a phone number. I may have been disgustingly innocent back then, but I wasn’t naive. I knew that I could be getting into trouble just by putting that card in my pocket. But I also really wanted to go to college and make something out of myself. It’s crazy what some people are willing to do when their entire future is on the line.

I didn’t want to leave a paper trail – not even an electronic one – so I decided to call the phone number instead of emailing him. The slightly raspy voice of a silver-tongued snake oil salesman cooed something about leaving my name, number, and a brief message after the beep if I was interested in business opportunities with his organization. The voicemail I left him was a rambling, brutally honest mess about who I was and how my freshman year of college was rapidly approaching and all the reasons why I had no way to pay for any of it and that I was about to lose my mind. To this day, I still have no idea why I was so forthcoming; but there was just something about the sound of his voice… 

I received a text message the next day from the number I had called. It had a time and an address, and one brief direction: “ask for Trick”. It was then that I really started to have my doubts. Every fiber of my being told me that something was very, very wrong and that I should delete this text right away and throw his business card in the trash. My thumb was hovering over the delete button at the exact moment that a second, follow-up text popped up on my phone screen with eerily perfect timing. It read:

You DO want to be a veterinarian, right? I’m only trying to help you.

In that one, overwhelming moment, it felt like my entire future was hanging in the balance on the tip of that painfully simple question. I immediately texted him back and told him I would be there.

Fast forward to that Saturday afternoon. I pulled up in the driveway of a house that was a good 20 minute walk from the nearest neighbor. It wasn’t necessarily the biggest house I’d ever seen, but it was a mansion compared to my family home. I rang the doorbell and made a conscious effort to keep my nervously tapping foot still as I waited for someone to answer the door.

The man who opened the door was a little over six feet tall. He had his hair dyed dark red and an unfortunate case of dad bod syndrome. He was wearing a pair of dark sunglasses and a trilby hat, which seemed like odd things to be wearing indoors. The warm smile and sultry hello that he greeted me with had a faint hint of an ‘old southern money’ country accent. 

He moved out of my way and held the door open as he gestured for me to come inside. I took one trepidatious step across the threshold and when I looked up, I saw the craziest fucking thing I had ever seen in my life (up until that point, at least). One man and two women were standing buck-ass-naked in his living room. One of the women was on her knees, handling the man’s equipment with the assistance of her mouth. The other woman was standing on his opposite side, their bodies at a 45 degree angle with each other. He caressed her breasts and engaged in some very, very open mouth kissing with her as an adventurous finger of hers danced its way down the small of his back and below. They were surrounded by a semicircle of hollywood movie cameras on one side and a large, expensive-looking leather sectional couch on the other.

My eyes must have been as wide as saucers because I could hear him chuckle as he closed the door. “Damn, I could tell from your voicemail that you were new to all this, but I had no idea you would be so green.” That amused smirk never left his face the whole time I was at his house. Hell, I don’t think it’s left his face over all the years that I’ve known him. 

“You want me to do…that?” I asked him, pointing to the threesome they were filming right before my very eyes.

“No! No. No, no, no, no, no…” He said, his soothing voice flowing like honey from his mouth. He slid his hand down the middle of my back and gently guided me to a large, cherrywood cabinet that was full of liquor and fancy glasses to drink it from. “I only want you to do what makes you comfortable. Nothing more, nothing less. You are 18, right? We like to keep things strictly legal around here. I am a professional, after all. Can I get you something to drink?”

“You keep things strictly legal around here? Is that why you’re offering alcohol to an underage female?” I asked. Even today I still have no idea where that kind of bravery came from, because I was nervous as all hell and even in my most confident moments back then I had a bad habit of acting pathetically sheepish. But he took it in stride with the grace you would expect from someone whose livelihood comes from one of the most loathed – and at the same time most popular – industries in the world.

“You’re smart. Smart girls are usually feisty. I have lots of customers with very deep pockets who pay extra for that sort of thing-

“Pardon me, I’m getting ahead of myself,” he apologized, pressing a hand to his chest for emphasis. “I didn’t mean to offend you by offering you that drink. But you seem like the trustworthy type. You can keep a secret, right?” He asked me, pulling his sunglasses down just long enough to give me a mischievous wink. I nodded and swallowed hard before I asked him to pour me a club soda. He did as requested, and also poured two fingers of whiskey into a separate glass for himself.

“To new business endeavors,” he toasted, extending one arm to hand me the glass of club soda I’d asked for. But something strange happened as I lifted my hand to meet his. By the way, did I mention that I was nervous as all hell? Because I was. My first minute inside his home was as far outside of my comfort zone as you could possibly get – but for some strange reason, I hadn’t run away screaming yet. 

As if possessed by some unknown force, I reached past his extended arm and grabbed the glass of whiskey from his other hand. He released it easily, almost as if he was expecting me to take it from him. It was the first drink of alcohol I’d ever had in my entire life, and I threw back that entire glass of hard liquor in a single, thirsty gulp as if I were a seasoned lush. 

The funny thing is that even though my mind was willing, my body wasn’t having any of it. I coughed and gagged so hard at the foul taste of the whiskey that it almost came right back up. Trick chuckled sympathetically and gently rubbed my back, patiently waiting for my coughing fit to calm down.

“I’ve been in this business a long time”, Trick insisted. “I’ve seen it do terrible things to a lot of people who didn’t deserve it. So I want to keep everything above board. I won’t so much as ask you to squeak out a sweet-smelling fart unless you are 100% enthusiastic about it. But in order for me to honor my end of the bargain, I need you to be open and honest with me about what does and does not make you feel comfortable. Can you make me that promise? 

“I’m only trying to help you. You want to be a veterinarian, right? Well they need lots of school, and school ain’t cheap. Just think of all those poor little animals you can save. And all for just a few hours of your time. It’s a lot of money.

“Let me help you.”

Let me help you he said, as if it were the smallest and most reasonable request in the world.

When he said those four little words to me, reality turned upside down. The world grew pitch dark around him and flames danced in his jetstone eyes with an unrelenting passion I’d never seen in a human face. The words warbled out of his mouth with an otherworldly tone that didn’t sound anything like a natural human voice. Every single bone in my body wanted to run away right then and there. The young, innocent, naive part of my personality which had dominated my thoughts and actions all my life was screaming at me to dash through the nearest exit and never look back. 

But something else stirred deep inside me as he said those words. It was something dark, and buried, and felt surprising yet oddly familiar all at the same time. Somehow, I instinctively knew these new feelings were as true and real as the sun rising in the East and setting in the West. His words bored their way into my brain and took on a life of their own, practically hijacking my own thoughts. Let him help you I heard myself thinking in my own voice. It can’t be that bad. It might even be fun. When have you ever let loose before, honestly? Your whole life, everyone has manipulated you into believing that your deepest, darkest desires were wrong and sinful and dirty and shameful and bad. But what if they’re not? This may be your one and only opportunity to discover the answer to that question. take it. Embrace it. And don’t look back.  

“W-what do you want me to do?” I asked, shocked that I didn’t choke on my own words as they percolated out of my throat. 

Trick smiled. His shoulders relaxed as he released a tense sigh. “I’m so glad you asked,” he cooed, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and guiding me down the nearest hallway. “You did say you were a virgin, right?” he chuckled. “We’re going to make a lot of money together, you and I.”


Trick was right about a couple of things. He and I did make a lot of money together. And I did end up saving a lot of animals – just not the kind with whiskers or fluffy tails. More like the kind that would go insane and shoot up their workplace if they didn’t have any good porn (starring yours truly) to stroke it to. 

My life pretty much went off the rails after I met Trick but, do I have any regrets? I’m not sure. I know my life isn’t nearly as boring as it used to be back then. I know I have more money than God and zero student loan debt. And I can honestly say that more than a few of the screaming orgasms I’ve had on camera were not entirely contrived. I can’t imagine how motherhood and monogamy could do anything but pale in comparison to that. 

But what do I know? I’m just a trashy porn star, right?