asses, arms and legs wrapped around each other was fresh in my mind. It was a bizarre tangle of flesh, which I found erotic. The people had become a sea of groping, groaning bodies and I was amazed at the very matter-of-fact way the women acted. They stripped without any hesitance whatsoever and spread their legs without any hint of shame.
What did they know that I didn't and how did they find out?
As I poured myself a vodka, the stud of the moment, Tom Byron, walked in and started flirting with me. He asked if I lived around there and how long I'd been modeling, and though he seemed nice enough, I told him nothing td first. But he had this sweet, dopey puppy-dog thing going on and I let my guard down. I was wasted by that point, and since then I've often wondered if he'd been sent into the kitchen to seduce me or if he just got lucky. I'm still not sure why I let him have his way with me. I don't know what I was thinking. All I can say is I never intended to be filmed having sex in that kitchen, and I only realized I was being filmed when it was nearly over and I had already given in to a feeling I had never known during sex—power. And with that power came pleasure. I was blind to everything around me and I wasn't acting for a camera. I was acting out.
That's what porn did for me. It allowed me to release all the fury I'd felt my entire life. And that's what got me off. Freedom, peace, revenge, sex, power. I'd finally found a place to put my energies — I was vengeful, even savage, in sex scenes, fully unleashing my wrath. At the ripe old age of sweet sixteen, I was nothing short of a sexual terrorist.
Porn was a power trip for me. At the time I didn't understand it, but in reality I was fighting to take back what had been robbed from me as a child. There was a war going on in my heart and I was acting it out with my limbs. I was a sex-crazed, drugged-out wild child and I wreaked havoc on everyone I came across.
I had no one to talk to and nowhere to go. My drug habit consumed my every thought, and sex became a typical ending to most mornings, afternoons, and nights thanks to Sonny's insatiable appetite. I'd grown accustomed to first pleasing him and then going about my own business, so sex became like this price I eventually had to pay for any measure of love I was going to receive, and that was just the way things were.
I didn't know that sex and love could be one and the same thing, so sex became something that I both loved and hated. On the one hand, it made me feel scared and uncertain, since all my first experiences were violent ones, and on the other, it was power, so it gave me the only kind of control I ever knew. But resented that price tag. It made me angry, and that's what I showed the world.
But on the inside, I was a mess.
And I was vicious. Maybe, just maybe, if I gave my body away, then I would somehow win back the control that had !wen stripped from me all my life. So that's what I did, and porn became yet another drug in my junkie life.
15
The Skin Trade
Several weeks later I found myself on the set of another porn movie. Time had lost its meaning. The movies all blended together. I was like a passenger in my own life.
The bathroom was littered with used douches. The scent of stale cigarette smoke hung thickly in the air. I could hear the groans of porn queen Ginger Lynn, having sex in a back room, and wished I were somewhere else.
I was in between scenes. Barefoot and barely dressed, I searched the kitchen and found a bottle of tequila. Steadying myself as I did a shot, I snorted the last of the mashed-up downers I had. I stared at the photos on the refrigerator. The smiling faces of a young boy and little girl looked back and I wondered what it would be like to grow up rich in a mansion like this.
Was it easier? Were the kids in the pictures really happy? Or did they receive nighttime visits like I had? What kind of parents let people film porn in their house anyway? Stupid? Desperate? Both?
I
What did they know that I didn't and how did they find out?
As I poured myself a vodka, the stud of the moment, Tom Byron, walked in and started flirting with me. He asked if I lived around there and how long I'd been modeling, and though he seemed nice enough, I told him nothing td first. But he had this sweet, dopey puppy-dog thing going on and I let my guard down. I was wasted by that point, and since then I've often wondered if he'd been sent into the kitchen to seduce me or if he just got lucky. I'm still not sure why I let him have his way with me. I don't know what I was thinking. All I can say is I never intended to be filmed having sex in that kitchen, and I only realized I was being filmed when it was nearly over and I had already given in to a feeling I had never known during sex—power. And with that power came pleasure. I was blind to everything around me and I wasn't acting for a camera. I was acting out.
That's what porn did for me. It allowed me to release all the fury I'd felt my entire life. And that's what got me off. Freedom, peace, revenge, sex, power. I'd finally found a place to put my energies — I was vengeful, even savage, in sex scenes, fully unleashing my wrath. At the ripe old age of sweet sixteen, I was nothing short of a sexual terrorist.
Porn was a power trip for me. At the time I didn't understand it, but in reality I was fighting to take back what had been robbed from me as a child. There was a war going on in my heart and I was acting it out with my limbs. I was a sex-crazed, drugged-out wild child and I wreaked havoc on everyone I came across.
I had no one to talk to and nowhere to go. My drug habit consumed my every thought, and sex became a typical ending to most mornings, afternoons, and nights thanks to Sonny's insatiable appetite. I'd grown accustomed to first pleasing him and then going about my own business, so sex became like this price I eventually had to pay for any measure of love I was going to receive, and that was just the way things were.
I didn't know that sex and love could be one and the same thing, so sex became something that I both loved and hated. On the one hand, it made me feel scared and uncertain, since all my first experiences were violent ones, and on the other, it was power, so it gave me the only kind of control I ever knew. But resented that price tag. It made me angry, and that's what I showed the world.
But on the inside, I was a mess.
And I was vicious. Maybe, just maybe, if I gave my body away, then I would somehow win back the control that had !wen stripped from me all my life. So that's what I did, and porn became yet another drug in my junkie life.
15
The Skin Trade
Several weeks later I found myself on the set of another porn movie. Time had lost its meaning. The movies all blended together. I was like a passenger in my own life.
The bathroom was littered with used douches. The scent of stale cigarette smoke hung thickly in the air. I could hear the groans of porn queen Ginger Lynn, having sex in a back room, and wished I were somewhere else.
I was in between scenes. Barefoot and barely dressed, I searched the kitchen and found a bottle of tequila. Steadying myself as I did a shot, I snorted the last of the mashed-up downers I had. I stared at the photos on the refrigerator. The smiling faces of a young boy and little girl looked back and I wondered what it would be like to grow up rich in a mansion like this.
Was it easier? Were the kids in the pictures really happy? Or did they receive nighttime visits like I had? What kind of parents let people film porn in their house anyway? Stupid? Desperate? Both?
I
Similar Books
