Vice, Virtue & Video, page 5
“Good,” he says, putting his arm around me and running his hand down to the small of my back. “I know this really great place. Best gnocchi in the city, hands down.”
“I’m totally in,” I cheerfully reply as we arrive on our floor.
“I’ll see you tonight, babe,” he says as he kisses my cheek. He’s heading down the hallway when he calls back, “By the way, that color looks really sexy on you.”
I giggle and shake my head before I head into my office and make my way to my desk. I wonder if my olive green A-line dress really does look good or if he just wanted a reason to compliment me. I have been dressing a lot cuter for the past few months in hopes that Eric would take notice. I’m wearing clothes that hug my curves, I’m rocking mascara every day and I’ve graduated from my usual heels to some sexy six-inchers that give me killer legs. I’m mentally raiding my closet, trying to decide what to wear for my big date tonight, when I get a text from James.
*Good luck with Thor tonight!*
I quickly type out my response.
*I’m sure I’ll be feeling his thunder this evening ;)*
James instantly replies.
*Just tell him to keep his hammer in his pants… and ;) back at you*
I laugh quietly to avoid the wrath of Peter, my boss. He tends to freak out when I text or Facebook on the job even though I’ve already finished setting his appointments for the week and I’m on cruise control.
The day drags on slowly as I think about what this evening might have in store. The last real date I went on was junior year in high school and that ended with Nick Doyle trying to stick his hand down my pants. I didn’t really experience the free wheelin’ social scene in college and, since graduation, the only guy I see on the regular is my porn star best friend.
Finally, the workday is over and I meet up with Eric at the elevators.
“Ready to go?” he smiles.
“Yeah, I ducked out early, managed to go undetected by Peter,” I grin.
“If Peter would have yelled at you, I would have had to swoop in and take you away,” he says flirtatiously.
“My knight in shining armor, coming in to save me from that tyrant,” I giggle as he slides his arms around my waist.
He kisses my cheek as we wait for the elevator before getting in and heading down to the parking level. He’s driving tonight, so I had James drop me off at work this morning. Eric’s got a brand new, white Audi. I can tell he probably thinks this impresses me, but I’m not a glitz and glamor kind of girl. I didn’t grow up with money and fancy things have never been very important to me. Still, I act like I’m psyched about Eric’s choice of vehicle and slide into the comfy leather passenger seat.
I order the gnocchi at the restaurant, since it came so highly recommended, and it’s good, but slightly inferior to James’ version. Eric and I flirt and make conversation as we sip wine and enjoy the meal.
“So, um, are you really friends with James Langdon?” he asks timidly. “I saw him on your Facebook.”
“Uh-huh,” I nod and finish taking a sip of wine. “He’s my best friend. I’ve known him since elementary school, back when he was just mild-mannered James Laid.” Eric looks surprised, but I don’t care.
This conversation happens every time someone discovers that I’m BFFs with a super famous porn star. I’ve never been ashamed of James, even when everyone in our hometown seemed to jump on the "James Laird is the devil" bandwagon, and I never let anybody shake me on that opinion. Unfortunately, some people really look down on porn stars and I’ve had co-workers sneer at me and friends drop me once they found out that I was so close with him. He’s gotten really famous in the adult industry, which means lots of people know who he is, and they occasionally freak out when they realize that I practically live with him. This might be a moment of truth for Eric and I’m anxious to see if he’ll turn up his nose or if he’ll roll with it.
“So, you knew him before the movies,” Eric continues, “back when he was just a regular guy?”
I nod. I’m not particularly keen on the hint of judgment in that last part, but I don’t want to argue the matter.
“I’d imagine he’s always been a hit with the ladies,” he chuckles.
“Oh yeah!” I giggle. “He basically discovered that he could make money off his many ‘talents’ if he did it in front of a camera. He’s always been really free with it anyway, so I guess it was a natural progression.”
Eric seems amused and it appears that he’s ok with the whole thing. It’s a relief. Eric’s really hot and I’d hate to think that he ditched me because of some preconceived notion about the people I associate with.
He gives me a sly grin. “And have the two of you guys ever … you know?”
I can feel my cheeks flushing. This is another question people ask me all the time. Everyone assumes, quite naturally, that I’ve slept with James. He’s a porn star, I’m his best friend, automatically people think “friends with benefits” and they surmise that he and I must be knocking boots.
“No, no!” I giggle. “Just friends.”
“Never?” Eric teasingly pushes.
“Never,” I shake my head.
“You guys grew up together and you never had sex? Not even when you were teenagers and your hormones were raging?” From the way that he’s asking, it seems that he’d actually be psyched if I had fooled around with James.
I find that men tend to take one of two paths with regards to my relationship with James. One, they get creeped out and bolt. Two, they get turned on and jump to the conclusion that I must be a freak in the bedroom because I can keep up with a porn superstar. Eric has no idea of my … situation, and he would have no way of knowing that the only thing that’s ever gone on in my bedroom is sleep.
“He’s into all that bondage shit, right?” he grins.
“He has a genre,” I reply with a sly smile.
“He ties girls up and stuff? Spanks them and all that?” he presses.
“I get the feeling you’ve researched James’ career,” I tease.
“The guy’s in, like, every clip I’ve ever seen on the internet,” Eric chuckles.
“That’s true,” I nod, “he’s a busy man.”
“So … you into any of that stuff?” As he asks, I can see a glimmer in his eye like he’s hoping the answer is yes.
“Porn or bondage?” I coyly reply.
“Bondage.”
“No,” sorry to disappoint you, “I’m a vanilla sex kind of girl.”
“You ever tried it? Being tied up and stuff?”
“I’m a total wuss. James tries to tell me about how much the girls like it, but I just don’t think I’m the 'whips and handcuffs' type,” I confess with a giggle.
Eric gives a hearty laugh and takes a sip of his wine. “I don’t know,” he says as he looks me up and down, “you might defy all kinds of expectations. You don’t seem like the kind of girl who’d be best friends with a porn star, but you are. You might have some other secrets that I'd like to discover.”
“Well, I’m just full of surprises,” I smirk playfully.
I get a pang of anxiety as we’re in the car on the way to my apartment. Dinner was great, conversation was smooth and our chemistry was good. Will Eric have expectations for how this evening will end? He doesn’t know that I’ve never had sex before and I’m sure he still believes that I do all kinds of wild shit in the sack because of my porn association. I really hope he isn’t thinking he can take me on one date and then get me in bed. James is always trying to convince me that every guy in the world is waiting to take advantage of me, but I just don’t get that vibe from Eric, so I don’t feel the need to totally panic.
He walks me to my door and there’s an awkward pause when he goes to kiss me. He’s so tall that I have to stand on my tiptoes. His arms wrap around me and his tongue darts into my mouth as he kisses me deeper. He’s a good kisser and my heart starts beating a little faster. His kisses increase in intensity and his hands start palming me from the back. This is turning into a makeout and a makeout can easily turn into sex. I don’t want to be “that kind of girl”, so I need to put the brakes on this whole thing.
“Eric, wait,” I say, pulling away from the kiss.
“Too fast?” he says and I can hear how breathlessly turned on he is.
“A little,” I reply apologetically as I look down at the floor.
“That’s cool,” he smiles, “I can take it slower if you want.”
“Ok,” I nod, knowing I’m blushing again. “Sorry, I just … I don’t want to rush into things.” And also, I’m a virgin and I can’t be certain that you’re the right man for the job.
“No problem, Lola,” he says sweetly. “Can I still see you this weekend?”
“Sure,” I nod, grinning happily.
“Jerry from our office is having a barbecue on Saturday, maybe you could come with me. It’s gonna be a lot of people from work, but it might be kind of cool,” he offers. “Something not very date-ish so we can take things a little slower.”
“That would be nice,” I agree with a smile.
“Great, is 1:30 ok with you?”
“Perfect.”
“Alright, see you tomorrow, Lola,” he says, leaning in to kiss me again.
I get in the door of my apartment and I know my cheeks are probably flushed completely pink by now. I’m giggling as I brush my teeth, thinking about where I might want to take things with Eric and the inevitable James freak out that will follow. He gets so psycho about the prospect of me getting intimate with any man. Maybe it’s because I’m the only girl he hangs out with who isn’t fucking six different guys on a video shoot every week. If things do end up progressing with Eric, I’ll have to break it to James gently.
Chapter 6 - James
Savannah Slade is pale and scrawny—every bit the frail, waif she plays in Eva’s videos. Her hair is almost the same dark, chestnut brown as Lola’s, but it doesn’t have Lola’s bouncy waves. She’s petite, probably about 5’3” or 5’4” and she can’t weigh more than 100 pounds max. She’s got tiny little bird bones and her whole figure reminds me a little bit of Nicole Richie—but if Nicole Richie was a zombie on meth.
Before the scene today, I asked a bunch of people about her and I got a series of horror stories. I learned that Savannah has been Eva’s submissive off-screen for years now and that she’ll do anything Eva says. A few guys I talked to told me that she has no gag reflex, she can take an incredible amount of pain and she has no qualms about humiliation situations. They also told me that Eva likes to shout out commands when she directs and that she pushes Savannah's limits on every shoot. They all said they were traumatized by how brutal they got with her. Knowing all that shit has me pretty freaked out and I’m doing my best to get in the game. Eva’s shilling out some serious cash for this scene and I’d love to put my $15,000 cut in savings or help Lola pay off her student loan.
I stare at myself in the mirror and try to get my shit together. It’s hard to talk your dick into doing something your brain really, really doesn’t want to do, but I have to make it happen. I close my eyes and try to picture really hot things I’ve done in the past and it helps me get there. By the time I step onto the set, I’m ready to go.
We start off with Savannah kneeling down in front of me in just her panties. She won’t make eye contact with me unless I order her to, which is a little weird. I like when girls look me in the eye during scenes because I can get a better gauge on how they’re feeling about what I’m doing to them. When Savannah does look up at me, her eyes are disturbingly lifeless, like she’s an empty shell of a person.
Eva wants me to tie her up with rope, which is annoying because it takes longer than cuffs or shackles. Being in this business as long as I have, I’ve learned how to tie a variety of knots, a weird side skill you acquire when you do a lot of this kind of porn. At first, I try for something easy, something she could slip out of if she needed to free a hand or an ankle, but Eva interrupts and orders me to do something more binding, and to do it a lot tighter. I’m already not feeling this. The only other people on the set are a sketchy looking lighting guy and a druggy looking dude with a boom mic, so the room is stark and Eva’s behind the scenes with this big, evil grin. Savannah is looking at me with those dead eyes and I feel like things are going to get worse before they get better.
I take a pair of scissors and I cut Savannah’s underwear off her while she’s all tied up. I’ve done this before and it’s basically supposed to give off that element of danger, but this time, it doesn’t feel sexy at all. It feels like something a serial killer would do. We move on and I try to focus and play this like I would any other scene.
I’m doing my usual thing—spanking, teasing, pinching, biting—but Eva’s looking bored. She tells me to gag Savannah, so I take the ball gag off the table and wrap it around her head. I start going to town on her with a flogger, thinking she’ll like it and give me some moans to signal how hard I should go like the other girls do, but she stays perfectly silent. Next it’s a belt and again I expect her to make some kind of noise, but she doesn’t, no matter how hard I start doing it. The skin on her ass is bright pink, so Eva orders me to go for her tits this time and I apply some clothespins to her nipples and give her a few swats with a riding crop. Still nothing. I hit her a little harder. Nope. Eva tells me to move on to caning her and I do. I go soft at first, but Eva keeps yelling for me to do it harder, so I start really smacking the shit out of her. Her ass is bright red now and I can see the individual welts starting to swell. I’ve never hit a girl this hard before and it’s really freaking me out.
We move on to spreader bars, plugs, hooks, insertions and even a little suspension. No matter how hard I hit her, how forcefully I jam something into her or pull her hair or whip her, she doesn’t flinch. The only time she makes any kind of noticeable action is when I try to do something to stimulate her. If I touch her in a way that might actually bring her pleasure, she recoils. It’s really fuckin’ weird.
Eva doesn’t want to pause for stills and she has three cameras trained on us, so we never have to stop the action. I find myself doing everything harder, faster and more brutal. Soon, I’m slapping Savannah’s already stinging ass and shoving her over so I can plow into her. I’ve ripped out her gag and pressed her face down so she’s panting against the table. She’s got a large plug in one hole and I’m fucking her hard in the other. I press her head down into the table and she finally starts making some noise, phony little moans and whimpers to make it seem like she’s enjoying this. Of course, I can tell that she isn’t enjoying it, that she’s not feeling anything at all. I’m doing everything I can to not get sick from how bad this is going.
I turn and strap her to the shackles on the wall. Vivid rope marks are visible on her wrists as I lock her in and I try not to look at all her welts. It creeps me out to know that I did that to her. I want to hurry this along so I can be done with it. I’m pressing her against the wall, pumping her hard and fast, a lot rougher than I’ve done in real life or any of my other movies.
“Slap her,” Eva instructs.
I slap Savannah’s ass and then smack her hard across her left breast as I continue to ram her.
“Her face, James,” Eva calls. “Slap her face.”
She knows we didn’t agree on that. I don’t like slapping girls in the face. It feels too harsh to me. I’m about a foot taller than Savannah and way more than twice her weight, and it just feels wrong to hit someone who’s so small and frail. I do it, but I purposely make it as soft as I can. Eva isn’t pleased and I can hear her scoff as she instructs me to do it harder. I do, but she still isn’t satisfied. Another slap and Savannah’s head whips to the side as her cheek turns red. I feel horrible. I’ve never hit a girl like that before. I look into Savannah’s eyes, practically begging her to struggle, to scream, to tell me to stop, but she keeps making these fake pleasure sounds and looking at me with her empty stare.
“Choke her!” Eva calls out.
I ignore her command. I specifically said I wouldn’t choke anybody. Slapping a girl’s face bothers me, but temporarily strangling someone freaks me the fuck out.
“Choke her, James!” Eva commands forcefully.
I turn and glare at her.
“It’s ok, James,” comes Savannah’s weak voice in my ear. “If Mistress says to choke me, you should choke me.”
I don’t feel good about it, but I reluctantly put my hands around her neck. My plan is to put my hands there, but not to squeeze. It’ll look like choking without actually being choking.
“You’re faking it,” Eva calls in a teasing singsong sort of tone.
“Do you want me to finish this fuckin’ scene or not?!” I stop everything and shout at her. I’m over this. If I wasn’t so close to being done with this whole thing, I’d walk out of here right now.
“Continue,” she relents, taking a seat in a chair.
I keep going, pretending to choke Savannah without actually squeezing my hands together. I’m pounding away into her and I know I’m doing it too hard. I’ve spent most of my life learning the complexities of women’s bodies and I know that this can’t feel good. Still, I keep going, just wanting to hurry up and end it.
“Stop!” Eva calls. “I want the pop shot. Put her on her knees.”
I unhook Savannah and she seems to know exactly where to go as she kneels down. Eva instructs me to bind her hands behind her back and secure them to her ankles so she has to bend back as she sits. I do it, hating myself the whole time for even being here.
“Fuck her mouth, James,” Eva purrs from behind the scenes.
I’ve done these violent blowjob shots before, never really been a big fan of them. Typically, the girls aren’t fully bound when we do this in scenes, but I’ve got a pretty good idea of how to make it look more brutal without actually going too far down a girl’s throat. Of course, Eva sees through my plan and orders me to do everything harder. Savannah has no gag reflex. None. I thrust into her mouth as mildly as I can, pretending to grip her hair, but really just resting my hand on the back of her head.
