“This is Billy,” I said, in my stern, RESTRICTED voice.
“Um, hey Billy.” Long pause. “My name is Julio.”
Another long pause…during which time I choose not to say another word — until he says something. Cause I’m fairly certain he’s gonna ask me for a job as a Stunt Cock. And of course I’ve already have his answer, cause between e-mails and random phone calls, I get about 20 of these a week. They go something like this:
My name’s “AJ”. I’m 19 years old, 190 lbs with a fit and slim yet muscular build, I’m 6’3″, and I live in Upland, California (about 40 mins away from Los Angeles). I’m ok with ANY kind of sexual activity, even receiving oral from a male actor. However I’m not into any kind of sexual activity that is homosexual, other than receiving oral. I have hairy legs, but my pubic hair is shaved and well taken care of haha. I have a 9″ penis when erect (6″ when flaccid), I have a lot of stamina, a strong sex drive, and I’m comfortable with performing infront of an audience. I’ve attached a few photos here and I will send another email with my attached video that i put together. I have some professional modeling pictures that I can send to you also if you’d like. Hope to hear from you soon!
Hi my name is g. Im a straight white mail long sell taken care of hair athletic body 2 shoulder tatoo,s nothing crazy…would love to get into this I’m a surfer looking guy..good looking could make u money give me a call
hi billy, im interesting on working on the adult movies, my name is f, i am 24 9/1/1986 i am in los angeles ca. please answer me..
and the phone calls always come from RESTRICTED and just like Julio’s call, they say hey Billy so-and-so gave me your number cause they said I’d be good at porno. Can I have a shot?
First thing’s first — and I’ve said this a million times — you wouldn’t be good at porno cause I’ll 99% certain that you can’t be male talent in any kind of porno, cause once the spotlight’s on you and there’s a hot (intimidating) chick and a stern (intimidating) director and a whole bunch of (intimidating) people wandering are set, your wiener’s gonna be as hard as 1st grade math.
But that’s not why Julio was calling.
He didn’t want to be male talent.
He had a “package” for me, and he was calling from a pay phone at a doughnut shop close to my studio.
I hung up immediately, terrified.
A package? What’s that supposed to mean? Which is about the same time Creepy Q, who edits the content I shoot for Blacks on Blondes, hit me up via ICQ: “I got your package, Billy!”
So now I got Creepy Q on my computer telling me about a package, and a dude I don’t know named Julio calling me about a package. That’s when it hit: I never told you this, but last fall I sent a FedEX to Creepy Q…and it never got there. FedEX dropped the ball, so to speak; hence, there’s 5 or 6 movies of big black dicks fucking little white chicks floating around the world — someplace. And no one’s ever seen them.
That’s when I got pissed at myself for hanging up the phone so quickly. And like a scared, little girl.
Which is about when my phone rang again. And again, RESTRICTED.
“Is that you bro?” I answered.
Yep. I called him “bro”. Like we were bros all of a sudden.
“Yea man,” Julio said. “Hey dude don’t be such a dick. I just got a package here with your name on it, and I think it’s only fair I give it back to you.”
“It’s a FedEX, right?” I hid the excitement in my voice, cause I didn’t want him to think it was that big of a deal. Last thing I need is Julio asking for a big reward.
“No man,” he said. “This ain’t no FedEX box.”
So now I’m terrified — again. What kind of package is he talking about? Is this some sort of weird set up? And if it’s not the FedEX, how did this dude get my phone number in the first place? Which is what I asked him.
“Shaggy gave it to me.”
I have no idea who Shaggy is. I do know of a Shaggy who rides around with a crew in a hip van called “The Mystery Machine”. There’s Shaggy, and Velma, Daphne and Fred. And a dog that talks. Other than that, not once have I heard a dude referring to himself as “Shaggy”. Not in real life, anyway.
“Dude, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t know any Shaggy. And if it’s not a FedEX package, I don’t know of any package being delivered to me. You’re calling me from a restricted number, and I have no idea how you got my number…so I’m about to hang up again. Cause you’re kinda freaking me out.”
Julio said, “Do you know Eric Kroll?”
Of course I know Kroll. We’re pals. Adrianna Nicole introduced us a few years back, and we’ve been friends since. Kroll’s a collector, too, just like me. And we both collect vintage smut: old nudie pics, vintage pulps, 8mm films, contact sheets, black & white negatives, and dirty mags that are long forgotten: Titter and Beauty Parade and Wink, just to name a few.
A month ago Kroll sent me a package of all the stuff I just told you about, and sure enough I never got it, cause the package was too big to fit in my mailbox, so the postman left it on top of all the mailboxes, and a pack of thieves led by a dude named Julio took it. “We thought it was a PS3 or some shit like that. Something good we could eBay. You know? When we went through it, I was like what the fuck? This ain’t nothin’ but old-time porno. Black and white shit. Who gives a fuck about that? Plus, I didn’t want my girl to think I was doing shit behind her back. If she saw a big box of porno sitting around my place, she’d get pissed. Anyway, I’m sorry I ripped you off, and I just wanted to give this back to you, bro. I just want to do the right thing! Besides, stealing mail is serious shit, and I don’t want no trouble, you know?”
I totally forgot about Kroll’s package! I wanted to jump out of the car and hug the dude. Instead, I handed him 20 bucks and thanked him.
Then I asked him, “So, how did you get my number?”
“I sell this dude weed. He’s in your business. When I showed him the package with your name on in, he told me he knew you, and he gave me your number.” Then, Julio handed me his cell, and sure enough, Stunt Cock’s number was on the screen — as “Shaggy” — which isn’t his porno name at all. Good thing, too, cause who would hire anyone named Shaggy to do anything?
Then it hit me: the only reason this dude was returning my package was out of fear. Julio knew Shaggy was gonna see me again, and if Shaggy woulda told me what he knew, I would have called the cops on Julio.
Then — “Hey Billy, you think you could hire me? I wanna be in one of your movies. I can fuck like a champ!”
“You got a big dick?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer. (Every dude has a big dick, until it’s time to pull it out.)
“Hell ya I do. I’ll get my lady to make it big and then I’ll send you a pic!”
I didn’t even get back to the studio when my phone chirped. Damn, I thought. That was fast. I flipped it open, and the picture wasn’t from Julio at all. It was from a Porno Princess — a pal of mine — and she sends me a naked dude with his wiener flopped out of his pants.
“Who’s this?” I txt’d back to Porno Princess. “And why did you send it to me?”
“My brother,” she wrote back. “He wants to get in the biz. He’s got 7″, and he’s tone and fit and shoots a big load.”
I was stopped at a traffic light, already going through Kroll’s package of beautiful, old-school sleaze, some of which was spread across the passenger’s seat. I reread the text. The sun was bright, and a breeze made everything feel perfect. The thermometer on my dash said 71°. It seems like the weather is perfect here almost all the time. No wonder 15 million people live in this city.
I read the text one more time and shook my head as I made my way back to the studio.
Destiny Porter: Yea – well, I went to Florida to make money. I shot for Bang Bros., Reality Kings, Contortionists.com, and a few others. And then I quit. I wanted to peruse a medical career.
ISP: What specifically?
DP: I got my medic’s license. I work in ER. I’m part of the staff, so when a call comes in, I’m drawing blood, running IV’s, inserting catheters, and I run the trauma team.
ISP: So this is your very first scene back after your hiatus?
ISP: I bet you have a fan base that’s wondering what the heck happened to you.
DP: Think so? Well, I know I had some fans from back then.
ISP: Why come back to porn?
DP: Aside from the money, I enjoy the sex. I’ve been promiscuous since I’ve been a young girl. I mean how many young girls aspire to do porn? I found a dirty magazine when I was 9 in my parents’ room, and I loved the way the looked. I wanted to be a porn star.
ISP: What magazine?
DP: I don’t remember the title, but it was German, so I couldn’t read any of it. My dad was stationed over there. Anyway, I loved the way the girl looked, and the way she posed, and her female sexuality. I couldn’t wait til my boobs got as big as hers. Do you remember that movie Mischief?
DP: When my parents would leave me at home with my sisters, we’d pop that movie into the VHS. I didn’t understand why that movie made me feel the way it did down there. Not til I was older.
ISP: Recap that movie.
DP: It’s a 50′s style movie, and there’s a part in the it where they’re making out in the back seat, and she’s got a poodle skirt on, and they end up getting caught. The cop opened the door, and the guy’s got her panties in his hand, and the girls sexually frustrated.
ISP: Are you into cops?
DP: I love men in authority. A “manly-man” turns me on. Chest hair. Self-confidence. A strong presence in the room. Especially when they’re emotionally secure. A family man. There’s nothing cuter than a guy playing with his kids.
ISP: Let’s focus on the Cop Fetish. Let’s pretend I pull you over in a remote area for speeding. You’re kinda horny, you’ve been popping pills, and there’s pills all over the front seat of your car — along with some empty beer bottles. Oh, and by the way, you like the way I look. How do you get out of the ticket.
DP: Well, first I don’t do drugs or drink and drive. Totally irresponsible.
ISP: But you’re ruining my fantasy! Besides, this really happened to Barbie Cummings.
DP: I have been pulled over. And I’ve gotten a ticket…and I can’t get a ticket. I’m a medic! So here’s the story: the cop started flirting with me. So, he gave me the signal that I knew it was “OK”, and I “offered” some time in the back of the car. We get into the back of the squad car, and he handcuffs me. He starts telling me to “take it” if I don’t want the ticket.
ISP: Take what?
DP: Every inch of his 10 and 1/2…if I could.
ISP: Please continue.
DP: So I took as much as I could until it felt like he was splitting me open…handcuffed with my arms behind my back. All of it I could, anyway. What he and I did not know is that during the escapade, we had bumped his radio, and the entire county could hear everything that was going on. It was late night — around 2AM — so no one really heard. Afterwards, he gathered up his things, and across the radio you could hear the guys congratulating him on a job well done.
ISP: Is it ok to profess my love for you now?
DP: (laughs) — yea, worship the ground I walk on.
ISP: You’re a dom? A top?!
DP: Yea. I’m a natural dom.
ISP: Would you pee on me?
DP: I would! But you ‘d have to beg for it. I haven’t dommed in porn, but I wish someone would ask me. I’d be great at it! I wish Girlfriend Films would hire me, cause I love girls, and I love to top them. I am bisexual. I was at a model house once, and Jayden Moore told me she was a dom. But she didn’t act like one. She, um…so within the first three days I enslaved her.
ISP: What functions did she perform?
DP: Anything I told her. Strap-ons, eating my pussy…she did everything I told her to.
ISP: I’m ready to worship you right this very second.
DP: Are you thirsty?
ISP: Yes, very.
DP: On your knees and drink whatever I give you.
ISP: Wait! Before I do that, how can fans get a hold of you?
ISP: Very good…now, where were we?
I trick them into shooting IR? Come on bro, are you kidding me? No one gets tricked into doing anything in Porn Valley, no matter what you hear. Porno girls, as a collective whole, might not be the sharpest crayons in the box; however, when it comes to street smarts, almost all of them are Einsteins, and no one is tricking them into doing shit. (Ex-Porno Princesses love to make claims of deception and doing things against their will…which is another blog).
I’m happy to chat with people who hit me up, if I have time, and especially if they don’t want to maim me. I like to hear what’s on their mind. And since I’ve been in this biz almost 9 years, I’ve totally lost touch with reality, which is another way of saying I haven’t been a porno fan since I started making dirty movies, so I forget about almost everything porno fans wonder about.
So MG from Albuquerque NM, via Scranton PA, and soon-to-be in NOLA, asks can you talk about “expectation of performers based on where they are from”, as in what’s the truth in the biz…if you were thinking of that old beach boys tune “I wish they all could be California girls”. A good chunk of these girls must be kinda new to the valley. Have you learned how you have to treat them to make them comfortable? are there some girls that are just great to work with from a specific location?
Which I can.
The only geographic differences I’ve ever really noticed when it comes to talent exist between the American girls and the Europeans; and, in a nutshell, the Euro girls are way better, way dirtier, and can take way more than their American counterparts. I’d also say the same for the dudes in this biz; Euro dudes walk all over Americans. I’d say it has to do with the way European society handles sex in general. It’s not as big of a deal over there…but everyone knows that.
For example, Liza del Sierra was in my studio Saturday for Cuckold Sessions. Her male talent is none other than Mandingo. If you know who I’m talking about, ’nuff said; if you don’t, Dingo is seriously packin’ heat.
13 inches — give or take.
And Liza, in her broken English, says, “the man today is big, yes?”
I looked at her and waited for the worst…which, for an American girl, would be something like, “he’s not going to go hard on me, is he?” And I’d add for an American girl who would take the job, cause a lot wouldn’t even say yes to working with Mandingo.
Then Liza says, “can we do it mostly in my butt? I like the size more in my ass.”
There ya have it. The difference between a Euro and an American. Which is not to say all American girls wouldn’t take Mandingo in the butt. (That’s a double negative, I know).
I don’t think you’d get many Smut Peddlers disagreeing with me on this point.
As far as the girls from the US, I kinda like the Midwestern girls. (Erin Stone, the girl pictured in this blog entry, is from the Midwest, and my members loved her). But, on the whole, there’s really no difference between a California girl and a Kansas girl and a Florida girl and a Texas girl.
I treat all the girls who walk into my studio the same — with respect. And that we’re on a job, together. In the short run, I get good content shot that way, and in the long run, they’re happy to come back and work with me…and sometimes they’ll only do things with in my studio.
Like IR, for instance.
Even though I didn’t trick ‘em into it.
Or maybe that is my trick: respect.
Treat them with respect and they’ll smile all the time — even when my male talent just turned a face into a jizz target.
I met Mae Meyers just a few days ago, when she came over to my house and took a trip to the gloryhole. I also interviewed her. She laid some pretty serious allegations down, and since we all know there’s two sides to a story, I’m gonna let Mae elaborate on hers right now.
ok. i was doing my VERY FIRST scene with ATK. (i wont say the photographers name out of respect) but basically what happened is i was doing a BJ scene with the photographer. it went well… and then he asked me to have sex with him off camera… i mean i can handle that cause in this industry its gonna happen right?? its not the fact that he asked me. its when the person gets mad when i say no that really pisses me off. but the weird thing is he didnt seem mad. not at all but. but then the next day, i had a second shoot with ATK with the same photographer. i had a pretty good first day with them so i was pretty excited. well the next day i show up and the set is nothing like the day before. its just me the make up artist and the photographer. and we’re in this house where the guy who owns it is getting high and being rude during the scenes to where we have to keep stopping nd telling him to shut up. i was getting super aggravated. we get thru my solos and he tells me that were gonna do the B/G scene i was like okk… and then he informs me that its with him… if thats what im there to do of course im not gonna say no )
so we get into the scene nd things r going good. but then he gets super rough with me. the make up artist is holding the camera and he starts not even paying attention to the camera. not worrying about where it is which is strange cuz the day before he on the B/G scene it was all about angles and positioning. and then were getting into the last part.. and i had told him im a tiny person. very tiny nd tight down there. he goes into doggy nd before even lubbing up or anything he just shoves it in and starts pounding me. i pull off and start balling my eyes out cuz it hurt so freaking bad. but of course me being the person i am i agree to finish the scene. cuz thats what i thought i was being paid to do. but no that wasnt the end of it. i had ANOTHER B/G scene that i was not informed of RIGHT after that one. because my lovely old unlicensed agent wasnt straight foward with me and didnt tell me exactly what i had to do that day. so thats basically what happened. anyone who has any questions or would like to confront me on something i would be more then glad to respond.
oo and to my old agent.. you know who you are.. i would stop running your mouth. its very immature and unprofessional. i have not ruined ur name in any shape or form in this industry and i would appreciate it if you would do the same. you are unlicensed and are in the process of loosing all ur girls cause there catching onto ur game.. im not threatening you because im not that type of person. but if you have an issue with me please work directly thro me and do not talk to everyone else who doesnt even know me. thank you very much.
have a nice day everyone ) hope u enjoyed my blog ) it was lots of fun and i look forward to talk to all of you )
Kim from ATK replies:
I would like to clarify something since you continue to drag our name into this saga. You are confusing the sites that you were shooting for and therefore are getting many facts wrong in your write-up. I have spoken to the photographer concerned and he was in fact shooting you for another site when he was the male talent and not ATK. The first shoot that was for ATK for the Galleria used a male talent named Seth Dickens. Your second shoot for ATK was for ATK Petites was with BMB, a different photographer, and the male talent was Marco Banderas. The shoot you are refrring to where the photographer was the male talent was for a different site. So anything shot with you and the photographer as male talent was NOT for ATK but another site.
I am the owner of ATK and I was not present during any of your shoots. In fact I was in Singapore during that time. So obviously I am not the guy who was getting high and being rude to you etc. that you describe – that was obviously someone at a location tied to the shoot you did for another company. That was for a different site and the person was not me. So to drag the ATK name into this in the manner in which you have done is not appropriate. You should correct your story with the proper site and if you do not know which site that was maybe you could ask the photographer?
I have spoken to the photographer concerned as well as his assistant and both assure me that nothing inappropriate happened during your scenes for ATK. Obviously we pride ourselves in models having a positive experience during the shoots for our sites. As far as what happened during the shoot for this other site I am sorry you did not have a better experience. Have you communicated with the photographer concerned to try to get this matter cleared up and to express your feelings? It seems he and his assistant both have a different side to the story.
Rebecca Blue: About 2 1/2 years. Time files! Man…I’ve cried every birthday since I turned 18.
RB: When I was 18 I cried because I turned into an adult. It was official. When I turned 21, that was even worse…cause I didn’t have anything left to look forward to. I’m 24 now, and I cried when I turned 24 cause it’s just another year of getting older.
ISP: How hard you gonna cry at 25?
RB: I don’t think too bad. 30 might be tough. And 29..cause it’s right before 30.
ISP: I had a huge panic attack when I turned 30. Had to pull the car over and shit.
RB: I think I’ll be OK at forty.
ISP: I bet you’re gonna look great at forty. You’re really petite and blonde. That helps.
RB: Yea, I’m 5’1″ and I weigh about 100 pounds…on a good day.
ISP: I weighed 100 pounds in 3rd grade. I had a race with my best friend Mark. I won.
RB: The older I get, the more I lose. I lost all my baby fat when I was 16…or 17.
ISP: When did you lose your virginity?
RB: A month before my 13th birthday. The summer before I turned 13. I remember running home to my step-dad and telling him I was pregnant.
ISP: You slut!
RB: Yea, I was a slut. I did things like pull my mom’s pick-up truck on the street. We lived on a big street. We actually lived on Main Street. That’s what it was called! Anyways, I’d pull my mom’s truck onto the curb and wash it with my ass sticking right up in the air towards traffic and just wait for the honks to start. I’d wash the same spot in the windows for hours. Hours.
ISP: What were you wearing?
RB: Daisy Dukes and a little wife beater. I’d get the shirt wet on purpose, too.
ISP: No bra?!
RB: I wore a bra, but I had boobies. I got them in, like, 1st grade. My friend Megan was my friend and she said, “you got big boobies!” and I ran home and cried to my mom. We went out that night and bought a training bra.
ISP: What was the craziest thing you did then?
RB: I made my friend Kelly have a threesome with me and an older guy. We were 15 or 16 and the guy was 21. He was a waiter at Olive Garden. We’d go in there to eat just so he’d serve us. And he had a huge dick. I wanted to watch my friend get banged out by a huge dick. She was a virgin, too. I’m such a good best friend.
ISP: I’ve got a boner.
RB: (Laughs). He nutted in my mouth, and I remember spitting it out. But it was dark, so I don’t think he noticed I spit.
ISP: Oh, he noticed.
RB: I always wanted to do a bunch of guys back then, but I was sacred. I did do girls. I was the dirty one. My best friend would sleep over, and I would make her take off her panties and wear boxers. Then, we’d play a video game, or do arts and crafts, and we’d sit Indian Style just so I’d get a beaver shot. Or, even better…I think I was 9 and I’d go over to the next-door neighbor’s. They had a son who was 11, and I’d let him lick my boobies.
ISP: That’s great. What’s your damage?
RB: I don’t think I was damaged. My mom’s boyfriend would make passes at me when I was, 11 to 16. He’d like smack my butt or tell me I look sexy, but I was never molested or raped or forced to do stuff. My family was very open sexually. My aunt has Sugar Daddies galore. My mom always cheats on her husbands. My mom let me have boys sleep over right after I lost my virginity!
ISP: And shit would go down, huh?
RB: Yea! And I never had to hide it. It was open-open at my house. I was doing all of it, too. I was an Anal Queen from like 14 on. The boy that I lost it to would always want it up my butt, and I would say no. And then like one day it just kinda clicked. I’ve always been into dating older guys, and the second guy I dated was, like, 5 or 6 years older than me. I was 14…so he was 18 to 20. He just told me to relax, and it’s just been history ever since.
ISP: And that worked? No chloroform or roofies?
RB: No! But he was the one that got me drunk for the first time.
ISP: You took facials back then, too…huh?
RB: No! Actually not. Facials offended me back then. I always thought they were degrading!
ISP: What’s your take on facials now?
RB: I’d love to take a cum bath right now. That’s my fantasy. It would be to have 10 guys cum on me. For example, I’m in a public place…like a night club. I’m by myself. I want one guy to turn me on…pull my hair. Spank me. Talk shit to me. Undress me. Just woo me in a dirty way. Then the guys in the bar start getting off by watching. They start beating off and then I just want them to cum on me. Everywhere. Face, ass, tits, hair…everywhere.
ISP: I have a boner. Would you blow a horse for $5,000 cash?
ISP: What’s the break point? No one would know, by the way. No camera.
RB: It would have to be a ridiculous amount. A million. For real.
ISP: Who much to blow me?
RB: I have a mySpace, but I never go on it.
ISP: No one does. mySpace is over. Obsolescence in a bitch. I know all about that, too, cause internet porn is heading in the same direction.
Wait a sec! Am I a writer? Or a blogger? Is there a difference?
Sure, I can write. At least a little bit. But to write and write and write every day, especially when there’s nothing to say — or when you’re blocked — is the kind of thing that sets The Big Boys apart from The Hacks.
Make no mistake about it, I’m a hack. I’d like to think I’m part of the upper-crust of hacks…but probably not.
I’m thinking of hacks throughout history now, and I’m thinking I’m not even a hack. Take, for example, Ed Wood Junior…a total hack. You mighta caught the Johnny Depp/Sara Jessica Parker bio-pic, so you know who I’m talking about. You might know about Plan 9 From Outer Space. I bet you don’t know about his writing; I do, cause I’m a book geek, and, in fact, last week when I was in Denton, TX, catching Wilco play at UNT (I’m still totally gay for Wilco), I hit a used book store and found a copy of Death of a Transvestite. I would’ve bought it, but the store wanted $70, and it’s a pulp, and I’m not spending that kinda dough on a paperback book…even if it’s collectable. Unless, of course, I scored it at a thrift store or a flea market or something.
If you followed the link I gave you to Ed Wood’s Wiki, you’d know “Wood’s novels frequently include transvestite or drag queen characters, or entire plots centering around transvestism (including his angora fetish), and tap into his love of crime fiction and the occult. Wood would often recycle plots of his films for novels, write novelizations of his own screenplays, or reuse elements from his novels in scripts. His first novel, Black Lace Drag was published in 1963 and reissued in 1965 as Killer in Drag. Among his other books are Orgy of The Dead (1965), Devil Girls (1967), Death of a Transvestite (1967), The Sexecutives (1968) and A Study of Fetishes and Fantasies (1973).”
Talk about a hack. But a loveable hack. A respectable hack. One who had a vision and actually followed through. And his movies? They mighta sucked, but he got them made. I’m fuckin’ all about Ed Wood, and I’m such a geek boy fan the only reason I love catching a film at The Vista near my sleazy porno studio is that’s where Ed Wood used to have an office — right above the theater. You can see the office windows, cause they’re still there, and every time I drive by The Vista, or catch a movie, I look at those windows and think that’s where The Man went to work.
After all this Ed Wood talk, I’m kinda amped to hack my way through a blog entry, just as Wood mighta hacked his way through something like Orgy of The Dead. Remember, all the stories I tell you are true, and since all the Porno Princess and Stunt Cocks have fake names, I don’t have to change shit in order to protect the innocent.
Besides, no one in Porn Valley is innocent, anyway.
So how about I tell you about the time I was part of a gang rape? And our victim was Ivy Winters.
I just used the oldest trick from The Hack’s Book — grabbing the reader’s attention with a ridiculous statement — in hopes you’ll stick around to the end of today’s blog. Cause it’s a long one.
Is it gonna work? And are you wondering, what the fuck, Billy? You’re kidding me, right? Gang rape!?!
Now, before you get all crazy on me, the “gang rape” was nothing more than a sleazy porno scenario. Ivy was never raped, never forced — nor coerced — into something against her will.
Last summer, when I went over A Few Things I Love, Lately, I mentioned Ivy Winters and her gang bang. I also mentioned Kuma’s Corner, the very best place in Chicago to grub a burger, Reckless Records, the very best place to buy some music after your Kuma’s grub, Ty Segall, American Pickers, and my new, old-man glasses. But out of all those awesome things, Ivy Winters is most awesome.
So here’s the rest of the Ivy Winters “gang bang” story I referred to in that post:
My Porno Pal Nicky Milo rang. He shoots chicks with dicks, mostly…but when he’s not shooting trannies, every now and then he shoots solo girl stuff — and an occasional hard-core sex scene. “Can I borrow your camera for a scene I’m shooting? The Client wants a second angle for the scene he ordered.”
Of course he could borrow my camera, and I asked him what kind of scene he was shooting. “Gang bang. Six man. Hey! You wanna be in it, too? I’m short one guy.”
Of course not. I’m not male talent. I made sure to tell Nicky that — more than once. It didn’t stop me from asking Nicky who the lucky gal was. And when I asked him “who’s the gang bang girl?” we both knew I was considering the gig.
“Who?” I asked, pretending not to hear what he just said.
He repeated her beautiful name.
“I’m not really male talent, Nicky.”
Then I asked, “who are the mopes?” Not that it mattered who they were; I know Nick’s budget, which is about the same as my budget, which means it’s gonna be a Mope Fest. And I knew — right after he told me Ivy Winters was The Gang Bang Girl — I was gonna be the biggest mope there…both literally and figuratively.
Why couldn’t it have been any other porn girl? I wondered…then took the job. “Bring another guy if you can. Just in case, cause if I don’t have six dudes, the scene doesn’t happen,” Nicky said, right before he hung up.
Flash forward to Nicky’s set, and all the mopes, and me and my camera.
And Ivy Winters.
Oh, Ivy Winters!
Here’s a haiku for you, cause
you know I’m in love.
There is a room with a queen-sized bed in the middle. It’s just a box springs and mattress. No frame, no bed spread or pillows, no sheets or comforter. The mattress is illuminated with some sleazy porno lighting…and that’s about it.
There’s six mopes standing around the bed, our director Nicky, a camera man, and The Light of My Life.
Nicky shouted his direction: “OK everybody! Here’s what I need!! All you guys are on the bed! You guys cannot leave the bed. You’re pinning Ivy down, and you’re shit talking her loudly, so her boyfriend who’s in the next room can hear what you’re doing to her!”
One of the mopes asked, “Ivy’s boyfriend is here?”
We all looked at the mope, who, from hereon in, shall be called The Dope Mope.
“No!” Nicky shouted. “It’s the scenario our Producer wants!! Here’s the story: Ivy’s boyfriend is being interrogated by the police, and he’s not cooperating, so the cops call in six thugs who have their way with her so he spills the beans to the cops!” The Nicky shouted, “ANY QUESTIONS?”
I had a question. It was a big one, too, but I didn’t want to fuck up Nicky’s set. So I pulled him aside after he told us we had to be ready to shoot in five minutes.
“Um…bro. I don’t wanna fuck up your gig, but is this a rape scene?”
Nicky looked at me and kinda shrugged. I had no idea what that meant. So I asked, “Um…who’s this for? Who’s paying us today?”
“A private collector who lives in Turkey,” Nicky answered.
That’s that, I thought. I’m not part of a gang bang scene for some legit porn company; I’m about to shoot a simulated rape scene for some sick, perverted, Turkish fuckin’ fuck fuck. And I’m not a happy camper.
Or — more specifically — I’m not a happy mope.
So I walk over to My Love, who’s looking out the window, smoking a cigarette, and looking very beautiful. I gave her a hug, and my heart went pitter-patter.
“Hey Ivy. Um…so you know what this scene’s all about?”
“Uh huh! Of course!” she said, smiling. “You guys are about to rape me! Isn’t that fuckin’ hot!?!”
“Super hot,” I said, and walked away.
OK. Do I back out? Cause if I back out, Nicky’s out one dude, and he told me he needed six men to make this scene go down. If I walk, Nicky’s gonna be pissed, cause he’d have to either scramble to find another mope, or, worse yet, reschedule the whole thing. And possibly have kill fess.
Have I mentioned how hot Ivy is? And how much I wanna bang her?
So…do I call my lawyer and ask him if there’s any possibility I could get in trouble for this? Cause I’m worried my Ivy Winters addiction is gonna get the best of me, and I’m gonna follow through with this shit, which means my face is all over a simulated rape scene, and I’ve already signed the model release.
And what if, years from now, Ivy finds Jesus and, like all the Porno Princesses who find Jesus, Ivy tell all sorts of lies about what she consented to and, more importantly, what she didn’t consent to, and what if she claims all this was real, and we really raped her?
Now I have visions of Billy Watson, sex offender and rapist, sitting in Cell Block Six for 10 years without possibility of parole, and my cellie is a big black dude named Cleofus…and he’s made me his wife.
I walk back over to Ivy. By this time, all the mopes are naked, and they’re playing with their dicks to get them hard, and Ivy’s naked, and she’s smiling at me, and my heart goes back to pitter-pattering, and I felt kinda woosy as I approached her again. Which is when she said, “Oh my god this is a fantasy of mine! I can’t wait!! I’m gonna cum so hard!!!”
So I do the right thing.
I pulled down my pants and started playing with my dick…but it was already hard.
I won’t go into much detail, except to say it’s pretty much what you’d expect a simulated gang-rape scene would be: pure filth, total debauchery; beat-off fodder for the sick and twisted and criminally insane. In other words, it’s something I’m gonna have to answer for as I stand near the Pearly Gates, waiting in line for my turn.
The hardest part of the whole gig was having to stay on the bed with all the other mopes and Ivy. One of us would jump off and Nicky would scream, “BACK ON THE BED! BACK ON THE BED!”
Which is about the time I started to feel the wieners poking me. A poke in the leg. A poke in the back. Another poke to the leg. A side poke. A shoulder poke. Some of us were standing on the bed; others were kneeling. I’d back away and I’d get another dick poke. And the sweat! Cause almost immediately after they started rolling cameras, the room’s temperature jumped about 20 degrees.
“More yelling! MORE YELLING!” Nicky screamed. Cause no one was really yelling. I dunno what everyone else was doing, cause all I was worried about was dodging dick.
Cause No Way Am I Gay.
“CUT!” Nicky yelled. I looked up at him. I looked around the bed. I looked at Ivy’s beautiful vagina.
“NOT BAD GUYS! BUT I NEED MORE YELLING! AND DON’T BE AFRAID TO PULL HER HAIR! MORE SHIT TALKING, TOO!!”
I asked Nicky, “How much more time you need?” — which is about the dumbest thing you can ask a director. What we had so far seemed to me like a half hour of footage…at least.
Nicky glared at me and said, “I need forty-five minutes of tape, and we just shot a little under five. Forty more to go! Take a quick break guys, but don’t wander off too far.”
When we came back, I screamed my ass off. I was determined to finish the madness I had gotten myself into, and when one of the mopes stopped screaming, I cracked him, cause the more we screamed, the more Nicky liked it, and the more he liked it, the less he yelled “CUT”. I think I smacked The Dope Mope the most.
The sooner we ended it, the happier I was gonna be…so I yelled my fucking ass off. The mopes screamed, too. Ivy screamed in delight. And when Nicky screamed “THAT’S A WRAP!” I sighed in relief.
Ivy loved her gang rape scene. We’ve talked about it more than once since it went down, and each time we talk about it, she uses more superlatives.
The mopes loved the day, too. I’ve seen a few since, and that’s the first thing that comes up.
To this day, I’m not sure what to think; except, maybe years from now, I’ll know…when the judge asks for my plea.