Eric seems amused, and it appears that he’s okay with the whole thing. It’s a relief. Eric’s 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!” My eyebrows shoot up as I wave my hands. “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 like he’d actually be psyched if I had fooled around with James.
I find that men tend to take one of two paths regarding 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 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’s career,” I tease.
“The guy’s in, like, every clip I’ve ever seen on the Internet.” Eric chuckles, seeming just a little shy to admit how many clips he’s seen.
“That’s true. 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 solid. 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 skilled 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 making out, and making out can easily turn into sex. I know I’m not ready for this yet, so I need to put the brakes on this whole thing.
“Eric, wait,” I say, pulling away from the kiss.
“Too fast?” 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.”
“Okay.” I’m blushing as he caresses my cheek and tilts my head up so I’ll look at him. “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. “Can I still see you this weekend?”
“Sure!” I nod, grinning happily.
“Jerry from our office is having a barbecue on Saturday, so maybe you could come with me. It’s gonna be a lot of people from work, but it might be kind of cool. Something not very date-ish so we can take things a little slower.”
“That would be nice.”
“Great. Is one thirty okay with you?”
“Perfect.”
“All right, 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 five-three or five-four, and she can’t weigh more than a hundred pounds max. She’s got tiny little bird bones, and she looks like she’d blow over if there was a strong gust of wind.
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 shelling out some serious cash for this scene, and I’d love to put my fifteen-thousand-dollar 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 some of the 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 druggie-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 b
efore 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 starting to freak 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 brutally. 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 easily 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 okay, 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 pleasant. 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 commands 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 in reality just resting my hand on the back of her head.
“James, this isn’t a goddamn children’s movie! Fuck her throat!” Eva shouts harshly. “And aim for her eyes when you come.”
No, thank you. I fake speeding up, but refuse to go deeper. I’m starting to feel really bad for Savannah. Most girls I do scenes with have personalities, emotions. They’re professionals who like sex and enjoy exploring all kinds of kinky shit. At no point do I feel like I’m abusing them, because we’re all on the same page. This whole thing just feels dark. Dark and creepy.
Unfortunately, thinking about some of the awful things I’ve done to this poor girl doesn’t exactly put me in a sexy mood, and I start worrying about going soft before I can finish this fuckin’ disaster.
I close my eyes and try to picture something else, but I keep having flashes of the things I’ve done to Savannah. I want this to be over. I’ve never done a scene where I wanted to stop everything and bolt out the door. I’ve never had sex that felt so…unsexy. This feels harsh. It feels sadistic. It feels wrong.
I’m never going to get out of here until I come, so I do everything I can to try to get into the right headspace. I picture my very first scene with Shawnna Hendrix. I was a nervous nineteen-year-old, but she made me feel so at ease. She ended up requesting me for a bunch of other movies before she retired. I remember thinking it was kind of cool that she was older than me. It reminded me of how I used to bang Mrs. Landry when I was supposed to be working on landscaping her yard for my dad’s company. That makes me think about her daughter, Brooke Landry, one of my seventh-grade girlfriends. She was a virgin and I’m really big, so I was kind of freaked out about hurting her, but I remember feeling totally psyched when I made her come. Her very first orgasm.
This, of course, reminds me of Lola. I gave Lola her first orgasm too. She was eighteen at the time. We were joking around about my movies when she accidentally let it slip that she’d never had an orgasm. I was all too eager to help her out with that little problem, and the next thing I knew, I was rubbing her clit and watching her come for the very first time. The sounds of her moans were like a symphony to me, and the look on her face was fuckin’ gorgeous. She was making these little gasping sounds and she started
whimpering, then her whole body trembled in this big explosion of pleasure. It took her a couple minutes to recover, and I felt super proud of myself for being able to make her get off with just my fingertips.
The memory of Lola’s sweet little moans rings through my ears, and I can feel myself reaching my peak. Lola can get me there. Lola’s my happy place. She’s the thing my mind can focus on to take me out of this god-awful moment. I’m seeing little images of her body in my mind: the curve of her full, round tits; the heart shape of her ass; her little belly button; her luscious, pouty lips; her big, beautiful, light brown eyes. I picture her lying under me as I slowly make love to her, watching that euphoric expression start to spread across her face. Before I know it, my thoughts of Lola overwhelm me.
“Oh! Fuck!” I moan as I come, surprising myself when I nearly call out Lola’s name.
Savannah is a human receptacle, and she takes it all over her face. I feel bad again, but hey, at least it’s over now.
I clean up and practically sprint to my car. I just want to be out of there. I feel sick on the drive. I’ve never done that before, never had sex with a girl who didn’t want to have sex with me. I’ve never been that forceful, never taken a girl against her will. Savannah didn’t struggle, but I got the distinct feeling that this was most definitely against her will.
I feel like a fuckin’ monster. I’m not that guy, the guy who’s all rough and mean with chicks. I got into this business because I love women, I have my whole life, and I like pleasuring them, not doing some weird, sadistic torture shit to them. In my real life, nothing puts a smile on my face quite like making a girl come, and I always make it a point to do that in every scene that I shoot. There was no way to do that today because I’m seriously thinking that Savannah doesn’t have the ability to experience pleasure—or maybe pain for that matter, because a normal girl would have been screaming and crying after some of that shit.
When I get home, I sit on my couch for hours just staring into space. I keep getting these horrible flashbacks of what I did to Savannah, the way she pretended to like it when I knew it hurt her. I’m totally freaked out at the way the skin on her ass was bright red and swollen by the time I was done and how I became more barbaric and violent with each passing minute. I didn’t get into this business to hurt girls. But I did. Today I did. I reached a level of cruelty I never thought I would hit, a level I never wanted to get to. That was no kinky fun back there. That was sexual torture, and I fuckin’ hate myself for participating in it.
Captured (Vice, Virtue & Video Book 2) Page 5
