by JD Nixon
“Either of you seen any of our work?” Roger casually asked.
“Yes,” Bick and I said simultaneously.
“Great. Did you watch it together? Are you two . . .?”
“Definitely not,” Bick assured with indecent haste. I shot him an offended glance. “Tilly and my boss are . . .” He searched his mind for the right term, coming up with nothing better than a generic, “You know.”
“Involved?” suggested Busty, with surprising tact.
“That’s the word. Heller and she are very involved.”
“I can speak for myself, Bick,” I snapped at him, annoyed. “Especially about my personal relationships.”
“Whoops,” laughed Roger. “Looks as though you’ve been put in your place, mate.”
“So how did you meet Heller, Tilly?” asked Busty, showing what seemed to be genuine interest.
“I used to work for him.”
“She was suspended for twelve months.”
“Bick!” I hissed at him. “They’re not interested in my life history.”
“So working for Trent Dawson isn’t a permanent job for you?”
“No. I’ll return to Heller’s at the end of the twelve months.”
“Won’t that be rather awkward for you?” asked Roger, clasping his wife’s hand. They exchanged a glance. “I know we found it difficult sometimes working together on the same movie when we first started going out.”
“It probably will be awkward,” I conceded, although as most of the men had assumed I was Heller’s little bed-buddy right from the beginning, I didn’t think it would make too much difference. “But I’ll worry about that when it happens. I really wanted to thank you for agreeing to be on Trent’s show.”
“Thanks for asking us!” laughed Roger. “We looked up his website. It seems as though he has a huge audience. It will be good publicity for us personally, but also for our action group.” Busty nodded in enthusiastic agreement.
“Action group?” I queried.
“Yes, we set up an action group a few years ago called Halt Unethically Made Porn, or HUMP for short. We even called our company HUMP Productions.”
“Wouldn’t a lot of people say that all porn is unethical?” I asked, curious.
“We’re not talking about the morals of it, Tilly. People really shouldn’t have any beef with material that’s made with willing adult participants who are being reasonably paid to perform. In those situations, it’s just a job like any other. And it’s an occupation that suits a lot of people, because it’s mostly well paid and flexible. What we campaign against is adult entertainment that breaks the law, for example, material involving underage people or sex slaves. Or violent, non-consensual porn and snuff porn. Any kind where the participants are being coerced to take part and are not being compensated either fairly or at all. We want to stamp out that whole side of the adult entertainment industry.”
“Sounds like a worthy cause,” I commented. “Is there much unethical porn available?”
“Unfortunately, there is. And with the growth of the internet, it’s easier for it to be distributed and accessed.”
“Is there really such a thing as snuff porn? That’s very disturbing to think about.”
“Again, unfortunately there is. You wouldn’t believe what we’ve seen in our research. It’s absolutely sickening.”
“We work with the police and other federal agencies and pass on any information we gather,” explained Busty. “We’re not very popular in certain sections of the industry, as you can imagine. There’s a lot of money to be made from some of this illegal stuff. Even by companies that appear to be legitimate on the surface. Sometimes they have shadow companies that make and distribute unethical material. It can be quite a tangle to sort through the connections. They can be very unscrupulous.”
“Trent’s going to love this,” I said, delighted with my catch. Their story would be a guaranteed high rater.
“We love any opportunity to talk about this issue. We’re very passionate about it.”
“I can see that,” I smiled.
Bick pulled up outside their hotel and we helped them haul their vast amounts of luggage to their room. They’d chosen to stay at one of the city’s nice five-star hotels, happily confessing that everything, including the cost of Bick’s services, was being paid for by the organisers of Seductively Sextravagant.
While they showered and freshened up, I rang Trent, luckily catching him first try. He could sometimes be a hard man to track down.
“Hello there, beautiful,” he said. “How’s it going?”
“Great,” I told him. “They’re very interested in being interviewed by you. They campaign against illegal and violent sexual material, so are keen to publicise their efforts. Their action group is called HUMP.”
“HUMP, huh? Figures. This will rate through the roof! Anything to do with sex is a winner on the show. Tell them I’ll take them out to dinner afterwards as well. They’ll be fascinating dinner companions.”
“I’m sure they’d enjoy that. See you later.”
Roger poked his head out of the bedroom briefly to let us know that they planned to nap for a few hours. He invited us to help ourselves to anything we needed.
Bick and I lounged around with nothing much to do. I rang Heller to give him a progress report.
“Did you know that some people make snuff porn?” I asked him, not able to get the horrible thought out of my head.
“Yes, I’ve watched some.”
“Heller! That’s appalling. How could you?”
“I didn’t say I enjoyed it, Matilda.”
“Then why did you watch it? It’s sickening.”
“I had no choice. It was part of my training.”
“Training to be what?”
He didn’t answer me directly. “In some jobs it’s necessary, even essential, to be able to witness anything without being affected. It was merely a method of desensitisation. One of many different methods used.”
“Sometimes I think I’m better off not knowing anything about you at all.”
“That’s what I keep trying to tell you. Look, I really have to go. I have an appointment with a client. You can berate me further tonight, okay?”
I turned to Bick. “Heller is one scary, scary dude.”
“I’m not going to argue with you about that!” He eyed the closed bedroom door speculatively. “What do you think they’re doing in there?”
“Sleeping. What else? They just got off a long-haul flight, remember?”
“Maybe they’re having sex. Really dirty, hot sex. Do you think they film themselves? Or maybe watch themselves in the mirror?”
“Bick!’ I looked at him, aghast. “I think you should mind your own business. You sound like a desperate old deviant.”
He exhaled heavily and ran his fingers through his hair, “Aaargh! I am desperate! I need a girlfriend, Tilly. I haven’t had one for ages. Do you have any single friends up for some fun?”
My best friend, Dixie, flashed into my mind immediately. “I do, but she’s a bit of a man-eater.”
“She can munch on me to her heart’s content. Is she cute?”
“Very.” I showed him one of the pictures of her from stored on my phone. He grinned and nodded approvingly. But then a frown puckered his forehead.
“She looks petite. I might be too big for her.”
I snorted with laughter. “She’s never met a guy too big for her yet.”
“Does she like black-haired, blue-eyed men?”
“She likes anything with a penis.”
“In that case, I definitely qualify! Give me her number and tell her I’m going to ring her.”
Instead, I took a quick snap of him with my phone and sent his photo to Dixie with the message, he’s gorgeous & he’s desperate to get laid!!, giving her his number. Five seconds later Bick’s phone rang. He raised his eyebrows and answered cautiously. I could tell from the smile on his face that it was Dixie. Flattered at her interest,
he was soon laughing and flirting outrageously with her. I leaned back on the sofa, feeling proud. I had just introduced a horny man to a horny woman, hopefully stopping them from sexually harassing the rest of the populace for a while. There ought to be some kind of award for that type of public service, I thought to myself.
Bick hung up eventually, having organised a date with Dixie for that night. A huge grin spread across his face that stayed there for the rest of the day. He wanted to see more photos of her, so we sat on the lounge together, flicking through the photos on my phone until Busty and Roger came out of their bedroom, rubbing their bleary eyes. Remembering how awful jet lag could be, I suggested we go for a stroll to give them the opportunity to stretch their legs and catch some sun. They dressed casually in jeans and t-shirts, as inconspicuous as they could be considering their glamorous appearances.
“How did you choose your professional names?” I asked them as we sauntered through the city’s extensive botanical gardens, enjoying the afternoon sunshine.
“Roger Harder is my real name,” said Roger, smiling. “I was born with it.”
“Really?” I asked in disbelief. “You must have copped it at school!”
“Sure did.”
“And obviously, Busty isn’t my real name, but Biggen is. I’m Barb Biggen to my family and friends.”
“Maybe you were attracted to the adult entertainment industry because of your names?”
“Nah,” said Roger. “I discovered I had special talents, which made becoming an adult entertainer seem like a logical choice.” My mind boggled at the thought. Perhaps he meant his incredible endurance or his massive todger?
“I suffered from a terrible learning disorder when I was younger, resulting in me being a virtual failure at school,” admitted Busty. “That ruled out a lot of careers for me. I kind of fell into the industry when I was eighteen as a way of making money, and I’m still doing it fifteen years later. I’m too short to be a model and I’ll admit I’m not that great an actor, but I do have a hot body and I’m very, very good at fucking.” She shrugged. “So it made sense to me to earn a living from that.”
Okay, I thought, trying not to look shocked by her blunt self-assessment of her talents. Bick was less successful in that respect, his eyes almost boggling from his head.
I burned with curiosity. “Do you think you need to be somewhat of an exhibitionist to work in that industry?”
The married couple smiled at each other, their fingers entwined. “It probably helps,” said Roger.
“You certainly have to be proud of your body and not be shy. You’re performing one of life’s most intimate acts in front of a production crew for the whole world to view and judge.”
“So you have to be able to distance your emotions from the action.” Roger said. “Sure, it’s sex, but it doesn’t mean anything. It’s almost clinical. Even when I’m doing Barb in a film, I’m usually quite detached about it.”
“As am I,” she confirmed. “We’re not thinking about pleasure or intimacy, but about getting a good scene in one wrap.”
“It’s all about professionalism for us. We want as much bang for our buck as possible,” Roger grinned, causing Barb to groan at her husband’s terrible joke
I mused for a while as we strolled. “I don’t think I’d be very good at doing what you do. My –” Partner? Boyfriend? Man? Lover? “My um . . . my thing, Heller, thinks the physical and emotional are too closely entwined in me to ever be separated.”
“Then he’s probably right. It’s really not a career for everyone,” Roger conceded.
“It’s amazing how many people attempt and fail to become an adult star, thinking it’s an easy way to make money. It’s not. It’s just as much hard work as any job,” said Barb. “Particularly for the female stars. Some of what we have to do is very physical. You really find yourself being surprisingly stretched as an actor.”
Roger laughed heartily. “In more ways than one. Especially during those multiple partner movies!”
“Darling,” Barb remonstrated, laughing too and swatting his arm playfully. “Don’t be so crude.”
The conversation drifted on to other general matters. They’d certainly given me plenty to think about, and Bick was greedily soaking in every bit of information they shared about their unusual jobs. I didn’t know about him, but I sure wasn’t going to be quitting my job anytime soon for a new career in the adult entertainment industry.
Back at their hotel, they said we could leave for the day, as they wouldn’t be going out again, planning on grabbing room service and going to bed early to be ready for the start of Seductively Sextravagant the following day. Gleeful at his early pass, Bick drove us back to the Warehouse, and logged the vehicle in before bounding off home, evidently eager to prepare for his date with Dixie. I wished him luck, wondering if I should have warned him about her predilection for taking snaps of the men she slept with when they were naked and asleep.
I thought about that for a while, but decided he’d find out for himself sooner or later.
Chapter 6
“What’s he so excited about?” asked a voice from behind me. I spun around, coming face to face with Farrell. I tried to look casual, shoving my hands into my pockets, making sure to keep my distance. I was only too aware of the cameras above our heads.
I leaned my butt against the nearest vehicle. “I just fixed him up with a date with my good friend.”
His grey eyes rested on my face steadily. “How are things going between you and him?” We both understood which ‘him’ he meant, and it wasn’t Bick.
“Good,” I said quietly, thinking sadly that it was the longest conversation we’d had for a while.
“Is he treating you right?”
I glanced up at the cameras discreetly positioned on the ceiling. They’d be easy to overlook if you didn’t know they were there, but I wasn’t making that mistake again. I’d made it a task to find out exactly where every camera was in the building.
Farrell’s eyes followed mine upwards to also fix on the cameras.
“Yes,” I answered, edging towards the stairs. “I better go.”
“I’m here for you if you ever need me, Chalmers.”
Our eyes met again. “Thank you.”
My heart thumping, I scurried upstairs to my place. I made a quick phone call to Dixie to warn her to play nicely with Bick, something she, laughing down the line, categorically refused to promise.
“He’s a big boy who can take care of himself and I’m looking forward to finding out just how big he really is.” She growled, an animalistic noise that didn’t make me feel any better about Bick’s chances of making it out alive.
Later that night, after I had slipped into Heller’s bed and he had slipped into me, taking me without uttering one word, I drowsed against him with happy contentment.
“Did you enjoy meeting the adult stars, my sweet?” he asked, gently stroking my back.
“They’re surprisingly nice people. Very down-to-earth. Not at all what I’d expected. And they shared lots of really interesting information about their job.”
He laughed softly. “I hope you’re not thinking of a career change.”
I laughed too. “No. I don’t think I’d be very good at that.”
“I disagree. I think you’re very good at that.” He leaned down to trail his lips around my breast in increasingly smaller circles until he took my nipple in his mouth, rolling his tongue around it. And even though I’d just had the pleasure of a very satisfying orgasm, I arched my back towards him to provide him with easier access. Everything he did to me always felt so damn good.
He released my breast and sat up, looking down at me. “What were you and Farrell talking about in the garage this afternoon?”
I stopped yearning towards him and let my body slump to the bed. I should have known better than to think that he wouldn’t have found out about it. There was always someone in this building willing to go running to him to tell him what I was up to
every second of the day. That, in combination with the cameras everywhere, made sure he didn’t miss out on much that went on in the Warehouse.
“Nothing,” I said flatly, all my desire for him fleeing in an instant.
He grasped my chin and immobilised my head, drilling down at me with his cold blue eyes. “What were you talking about, Matilda?”
“We were just talking about Bick,” I lied. “Now, let me go. You’re hurting me.”
“I don’t want you to be alone with him.”
That set my hackles rising. “We were just in the same place at the same time. We exchanged a couple of words and then went our separate ways. That’s all that happened. Back off, Heller.”
“Why were you both looking up at the camera?”
“Because I wanted you to know that I knew you were spying on me,” I snapped angrily, struggling to get out of the bed. “I guess Farrell felt the same.”
He gripped my arm and pinned me down, looming over me. “I wasn’t spying, Matilda. I was monitoring my property, as is my right.”
That stung me. “You better not be including me in any definition of what is your property.”
“I will watch over everything belonging to me,” he said coldly.
Inflamed by his imperiousness, I pushed him away and scooted out of his bed, dragging on my pyjamas as I left the bedroom. I stomped down the stairs back to my place, flinging myself on my bed and staring up at the ceiling, wondering if there were cameras here inside my flat. Heller had told me that there weren’t, but I wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not.
Heller didn’t come down to join me, as I half-expected him to, though I would have sent him immediately packing. I tossed and turned for the rest of the night, barely sleeping a wink.
