Inside Seka - The Platinum Princess of Porn

by Seka

  I also met Matt Dillon at Limelight. He was a lot of fun. And a hottie. He came over and was talking to me for a few minutes and I was in the mood, so I said, “Do you want to get out of here?” He quickly responded, “Yes.” Simple as that. Big difference between men and women: when men go out, they wonder if they’re going to get laid. When women go out, we choose whether we’re going to get laid.

  We went to my place and went at it for a couple of hours. He was getting very relaxed afterwards and started to go to sleep. I basically did a boy thing and said, “Look, you need to get up and put your clothes on and go back to your hotel. I’m not your mother. I’m not going to clean up after you.” He didn’t get pissed off, but he had a look like a little hurt puppy. He was certainly good at what he did, though.

  Gary Busey, on the other hand, was a train wreck. The door guys at the China Club said Gary wanted to meet me and go to a hockey game. I was exhausted, but said I would. I can’t say whether I did it because it was him or because it was a Blackhawks game.

  He was not a pleasant person at all. He took me out but paid no attention to me whatsoever. When he was ready to leave, his crew wanted to go out. He said, “We’re not taking you home. You’re going with us.” And he said it belligerently.

  I said. “Fine,” and walked right out of the car.

  Twenty years later we worked the Hollywood Collectors Show and he came up to my booth and was looking around. I said, “Gary, how have you been?” He said, “Do I know you?” He seemed fried. It wasn’t worth the effort to remind him about our “date.”

  I didn’t really have a boyfriend at the time, per se. I knew by then most guys weren’t asking me out because they wanted to know me. They were asking Seka out and to see if they could score. It didn’t affect my view of men in a bad way. I didn’t really want a relationship at the time anyway. I was having too much fun to be tied down. If I wanted to get laid it wasn’t difficult for me to do; I could just ask. No fuss, no muss.

  I think every person goes through a period where they’re single and feeling completely free, as well as free of guilt. For most people, it happens when they’re in high school or college or shortly thereafter. For this eighteen-year-old wedding night virgin, that time was now. Call me slow, but I finally got around to it and it felt good. I was old enough to know it was just a phase, but I soaked it up and was happy while it lasted.

  I also went out with Billy Connors, the pitching coach of the Chicago Cubs. I’d visit him in the off-season in Florida and I’d spend a couple of weeks at a time with him there. Even though we were intimate, we were really good friends. I’d go to spring training once in a while. The players treated me wonderfully. They were gentlemen. And that’s when the Cubs had some ball players who could really, really play, even though they unfortunately never made it to the World Series. I’ve always been into baseball, so I went to a lot of games in the summertime.

  Guys like sports, I like sports, so I was always a fun date even if it didn’t morph into sex. Through Billy, I got to know the Cubs, but sports is a small world in any major league city, so I got to know White Sox players, Blackhawks, Bulls, you name it.

  When you’re a porn star, there’s rarely any neutral ground. People tend to either love you or hate you. I remember seeing big Horace Grant of the Bulls in a restaurant. Such a tough guy on the court, but a sweetie off of it. As I approached, Horace rose from his seat and pulled a chair out for me like a proper gentleman should. He was sharing a table with Scottie “No Tippin’” Pippin. Scottie, who fans thought was the nicer guy, not only didn’t acknowledge me, he turned to Horace and said loud enough for anyone to hear, “Why are you being nice to her?” Like I was some sort of disease.

  Horace immediately straightened Pippin out, saying, “You need to shut your mouth. You’re in front of a lady. She’s a very nice woman.”

  I had an almost identical thing happen with Otis Wilson of the Super Bowl Shuffle Bears. Otis was a darling, but again, one time he was out with a teammate and the teammate immediately thought he could talk to me like a piece of trash and Otis nearly came to blows with him. It was always a mixed blessing. Fame got me close to wonderful people like Horace and Otis, but notoriety made others think they could treat me like I was subhuman.

  There were always celebrities in Chicago shooting movies because of the architecture. On screen, it passed for any number of American cities. I was asked to play myself in the Jessica Lange movie Men Don’t Leave. She played a divorced woman with two children who was financially strapped, and her two sons were trying to help her with the money situation. They took a VCR to sell to this fence who had all these VCRs and TVs. One of the movies playing on a TV was a Seka film. So they brought me in to recreate a porn scene. If they thought about it, all they needed to do was ask a film company for a three minute clip, but instead they had me on the set for a couple of days. It was kind of fun watching real Hollywood in action, especially after all that casting couch bullshit that never turned into anything real.

  The actors were very nice. Down to earth. Just pleasant people. As always though, it’s the producers and people behind the scenes — the decision makers — who give you attitude. Because I had done adult films, I was not looked at as a real actor and it made them think they could take liberties. “How about a blow job?” “How about us getting laid?” I’d look at these creeps and say, “I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last man on Earth.” What did they think I was going to say? “Okay, drop your drawers. Do me right here.”

  I wasn’t afraid to speak my mind anymore, but it was hurtful. I could understand if it’s Joe Average. Guys come on all gross and sexual to girls in clubs all the time. But when it’s people in the movie or entertainment business, I’m just like, “My God, how ignorant can you be?” They know how the business works. Adult stars are no different than anyone else. The disrespect bothers me. There are plenty of Hollywood stars who get naked on screen, and they wouldn’t talk to them like that. But they feel with someone like me it’s okay. Ironically, in the adult business, producers wouldn’t think to do this. Not to me anyway. If they wanted to get me laid, they wanted to get me laid on screen so we could all make money. But I guess that will always happen. People can be very brazen. They still do that stuff to me. Because you’ve had sex on camera, they feel you’ll spread your legs for anyone. I may be a very sexual person, but they think you’re some indiscriminate sex-crazed nymphomaniac.

  There’s also the power game. They have the power, and Hollywood is teeming with girls who want to be movie stars. They’d never dare proposition Julia Roberts or someone like that, but before Julia Roberts was Julia Roberts, who knew how many of these lechers she had to fend off? But with a major adult star trying to cross over, it was like trolling for little starlets again, ‘cept I didn’t play.

  Rock stars treated me with far more respect. During that time, I was always invited to Aerosmith and Rolling Stones concerts. They would call and say, “What are you doing?” One time I was in Virginia visiting my family and I got a call from one of Aerosmith’s sax players, who asked if I’d come to their concert in Chicago. I told them I wasn’t home and they said they’d be in Virginia in two days. They gave me backstage parking and passes, great seats, and rooms at the hotel. Not one band member ever hit on me. I think they get hit on so often by so many chicks that they know what it’s like.

  Steven Tyler was absolutely fabulous. A total gentleman. Very funny. Very polite. They liked my films and when they were on their tour buses they played porn.

  When the Rolling Stones were in town they’d pick up my tickets. They had a huge bus that would take certain people to their concerts. I’d hop on the bus with some of the band members. One evening we were out there a couple of hours early. They had a big tent set up with pool tables, pinball machines, and a nice buffet laid out. Ronnie Wood was playing pool and his wife came up to me and said, “Would you do something for me? Ronnie loves you to death. All he does is talk about you. Would you ple
ase go over and give him a hug?”

  It was a huge thrill for me. I walked over to him, gave him a hug and a little kiss on the cheek. His wife stood there as his mouth hung open. He couldn’t say a word. And she knew he’d react like that!

  Mick Jagger’s security pretty much kept him to himself. All you’d get from Mick was, “Thank you for coming to the show.” Very polite, but nothing more than that. He does about an hour and a half workout before the show just to warm up his muscles, and then a long cool down after, so there’s not a lot of time for chit-chat. When you’re at that level of performing, you don’t need a lot of hustle-bustle before a show. You need your head clear. When they’re on tour they’re usually so busy doing interviews and such.

  Keith Richards is not only funny looking, but just plain funny. A very nice guy. I’ve been going to see the Stones for thirty years, and as long as they keep going, I’ll keep going.

  All in all, this period was a fabulous time. Everything seemed right with the world. But as good as it was, little did I know what the coming years had in store for me.

  With Bon Jovi, 1987. Slippery When Wet, indeed. The band used to hide out and get their hair styled in my apartment in order to avoid the paparazzi. And in the eighties, that was a lot of hair.

  With Aerosmith’s Steven Tyler.

  With my favorite singer of all time, Roy Orbison, and his great guitarist Bucky Barrett, 1985.

  With Mötley Crüe.

  33. Seka Versus the US Government

  During the 1980s under the Reagan administration, the government was coming down hard on the adult entertainment business. They were trying to close down dance clubs, bookstores, and doing stings on movie sets. Everybody on the set got busted. The feds were even pulling magazines off of newsstands, and I’m talking mainstream magazines like Playboy and Penthouse. And if they weren’t being removed from the stores, they were told to cover up the flesh.

  I feel it was an issue of freedom of speech, which is what this country was built on. I’m against censorship, period. If you don’t like something, don’t order it. Don’t support it. Turn the channel. Whatever. But don’t try and shut it down.

  In some European countries where pornography and/or prostitution are legal, there’s less rape. There’s tax money to be paid and the government makes out. Again, nobody’s being forced into watching or doing anything.

  The Meese Commission was trying to show there was violence and rape in pornography. They were painting us as Satan’s helpers trying to destroy the moral fabric of America. Hell, you couldn’t even show an erection in the newsstand nudie mags. And most of the plots of our movies were so inane you couldn’t take much of it seriously to begin with.

  But they sure were out to get us.

  Different adult film actors and actresses were asked to go to Washington to give their point of view on the industry. John Westin was one of the lawyers fighting to show that this was a First Amendment issue. He knew that as one of the leading names at the time and being someone who was fairly well spoken and not intimidated easily, I was a good candidate to speak for them. I said, “Absolutely. I would be more than glad to be part of this.”

  Seka was about to take on the U.S. government.

  I had been told to wear “court attire.” I guess they were worried they’d have a group of us looking like strippers. I showed up in an Yves St. Laurent double-breasted jacket with matching knee length skirt, with a crew collar, short-sleeved red sweater underneath, and shoes and purse that matched the suit. But there was just a touch of cobalt blue showing them there was something to be reckoned with. It was very understated, but a definite high-powered corporate look. I could have passed for one of the lawyers.

  As I walked into the impressive and imposing marbled halls of Washington, D.C., I realized the gravity of what was going on. I was on Capitol Hill, for Christ’s sake. Nonetheless, I felt powerful and proud to be fighting for our freedom. I sincerely felt Attorney General Meese and his cronies were wrong. They were violating my rights. In fact, I was there to fight for everyone’s constitutional rights. If you don’t fight for what you believe in, you no longer live in a democracy. It becomes a tyranny of sorts.

  Mr. Westin sat down with a group of us. Adult actress Veronica Vera was there, too. He told us what to expect. He was a very capable, excellent lawyer who kept me calm. He didn’t try to manipulate us. He just readied us for what might be coming, telling us if we feel like we’re stumped and need a little extra time to think, repeat the question back to the person who asked.

  We were sitting at a table on these big, long, mahogany benches. There were huge, gargantuan double doors going into the hearing room. You’re the size of an ant in comparison, but I didn’t feel that way even when I was summoned and the doors opened.

  There had to be fifty to seventy-five reporters and media people inside. The lights of the camera flashes and video cameras were blinding. But I felt like I was walking on sunshine. There was no way I was going to let this crumb of a man, Ed Meese, make me feel ashamed. He wasn’t my father and I wasn’t going to let him scold me.

  They asked if I saw drugs in our business. I told them there may have been, but I didn’t see it. I wasn’t going to lie. They had this image of us all sitting around shooting heroin and snorting coke off each other’s asses. Nothing could be further from the truth. We were worker bees, blue-collar types. We didn’t push papers around in an air-conditioned office. We were sweaty, athletic, and at the end of a sixteen-hour day we were physically dog-tired. If we were doing drugs that whole time there was no way we could perform.

  They asked if there was anything I did on film that I didn’t want to do. “No,” I said honestly.

  After many negative questions trying to paint me into a corner making my industry look bad, they clearly saw they weren’t getting anywhere. I told them I liked what I did and I did it because I wanted to. That wasn’t exactly the answer they were looking for. There was an awkward pause. Dead silence.

  It was around this point, I got hot under the collar and said, “Look, Eddie… .”

  John Westin kicked me hard under the table as if to say, “This is the Attorney General!”

  I looked at John and said, “Well, that’s his name, isn’t it?”

  Meese sat up rigidly in his chair looking startled, like I had offended him. I brought up Gone With The Wind and commented on the scene where Rhett Butler broke the bedroom door down and ravished Scarlett. Just because you didn’t see the actual act, didn’t he rape her? All you saw was her face going “No, no, no…” but her body was saying “Yes, yes, yes…” This was a critically acclaimed classic film, but I didn’t see anyone attacking it because it had a rape scene in it.

  He didn’t respond. I tasted victory. He was speechless.

  I was pretty much dismissed after that. They hadn’t gotten what they wanted from me. The anti-porn people never did and never will.

  There was a ton of press after this and much of it portrayed me positively as someone who didn’t back down. In fact, I don’t remember a negative word written about me in particular.

  The Meese Report ultimately met with much controversy. It was criticized by some of the experts whose research was utilized. They claimed their results were distorted and were incongruent with the final report. Some believe Meese minimized evidence indicating pornography is not dangerous, and others regard the commission members as a pre-selected cohort of anti-pornography zealots. The report was criticized by many inside and outside the pornography industry, calling it biased, incredible, and inaccurate. Ultimately Meese himself, as well as other members of the commission, such as Father Bruce Ritter, met with personal scandals.

  Meanwhile, this little country girl had taken on the U.S. government and stood her ground, taking on the big boys. I walked down those halls of justice and felt like David. Goliath had been slain.

  Before the Meese Commission. No, I am not describing the size of John Holmes.

  With Kay Parker and Annet
te Haven in DC for the Meese Commission.

  With my former co-star Richard Pacheco testifying before the Meese Commission.

  In DC during the Meese hearings.

  Testifying in front of the Meese Commission with Veronica Vera.

  I look pretty classy when I’m testifying before Congress.

  34. Stripper

  Times remained good. I was on a roll. Between the mail order business and working for Club Magazine, I was making a decent wage. But having stopped making films was beginning to hit me in the wallet.

  In film, I started out making two, three, four hundred dollars a day. By the time I stopped, I was the highest paid actor in the business. I won’t say how much I commanded, but suffice it to say it was cushy.

  I missed that dough. It was funny, though, that because of home video, almost no one knew I’d retired. If you asked people five or six years after I retired who was the biggest porn star in the world, many would still say it was me. Porn lives on a helluva long time. It’s got the half-life of uranium. And people don’t mind seeing the same film or the same scene over and over and over again. Yet, we had no residuals. My films could sell hundreds of millions of copies and be played billions and billions of times, yet I’d never see another red cent.

  One day the phone rang. It was Chuck Traynor.