by Oriana Small
“With the passports. Right in there,” I said and pointed to where his hands were.
“No, Ori! This is just the itinerary, not our actual tickets. Where are the tickets?”
“What? What do you mean? I didn’t bring the tickets?” I began bawling loudly. “I thought that’s what I packed! I thought I had them. What are we going to do?” Everything went nebular, I couldn’t see. There were too many tears in my eyes. A wave of bad heat brushed through my body. I nearly fainted.
The man at the ticket counter was stern, but trying to be helpful. “You need the hard copy of the tickets to get on this flight. We can’t let you on unless we get that. You’ve got some time. Is there anyone at home that can drive the tickets here in the next forty-five minutes?”
I fell to the ground, paralyzed and reduced to a puddle of sobs on the linoleum. The distress was too much for me to handle. I didn’t know how to fix this. Tyler tried to think fast and pulled himself together for both of us.
“Oliver!” he shouted. “Oliver next door! Our neighbor Oliver!” Tyler sprang into action and called. “Hey man! I need you to break into our apartment…We forgot the tickets…Yes, the tickets… Just use a credit card and swipe it through the door lock, I’ve done it tons of times. We never lock the deadbolt… Just like Ernesto… Okay, you in? Great!... Where?... I don’t know where they are exactly… Just look, look everywhere! By the computer, or in the kitchen, by the bed, in those drawers by the window… You have them? Ori! He has them! Great, man! I love you, man! We owe you our lives. Thank you. Yeah…We’re at Air France/Air Tahiti Nui. Thank you, so much. See you, bye.”
To buy some time, the man at the ticket counter made it possible for Tyler and me to start pre-boarding while we waited for Oliver. The airport security escorted us through the lines quickly, as we were holding up the flight. We were last to get on the plane. But we made it. Good ol’ Oliver—the rapist of a minor in the eyes of California state law—was our savior.
Chapter Twenty
Clusterfuck
THREE days after we returned from Europe, Tyler had a shoot without me—a gang bang with seven other men—and I was relieved to drop him off in Sunland. I had sworn off gang bangs. He was doing two scenes for Roach. I had the entire day off to get a manicure and pedicure. My nails were white trash. I’d painted them a dark red while in Spain. Now, back in the USA, they were chipped, faded, and uneven from biting them on the plane. I’d been exhausted since our month in Europe. The very day we got back, I had a shoot. I was so upset. I was crying on the phone to my agent—Nelson. He booked this scene without telling me about it. While Tyler and I were still in Paris, I called Nelson back. I begged him to reschedule it. I felt like a slave. Ironically, the shoot was for a movie called Slave Dolls. The morning of, I showed up not having slept at all, jetlagged and miserable. Nelson picked me up from my apartment and drove me to the location. He knew I wouldn’t have shown up otherwise. When we knocked on the door at the house a little girl answered.
“Um, hi. Is your mommy home?” Nelson asked the seven year old. This was not good. A kid was not supposed to be there.
“She’s not here,” the child answered. She was in a big tee shirt and her hair was a scraggly mess. It was seven-thirty in the morning.
The director pulled up and took over. Nelson left me there. This guy Jackal and I walked into the house. He was really nice and excited about the shoot. His energy lightened me up considerably. The girl’s mother walked through the open front door. She was an older porn star named Priscilla, and Priscilla was spun out of her mind on meth. She started wiping down her filthy kitchen countertops while smoking a long tweaker cigarette. The little girl was sent to a neighbor’s house while another tweaker lady started sweeping the floor. The place was a pigsty and a crack house. A perfect porn location, I guessed.
The scene took the entire day. It was another rough anal three-way. This time, there was a girl in it to dominate me, too. I was fucked in the ass by a guy who had a huge uncut cock, one of the thickest cocks I’d ever been fucked by. It was like a barrel used to store hazardous materials. The whole time, I was in submission to a man and a woman.
It was special enough to stand out in my memory from the blur of most of the other stuff I’ve done. I’m glad I did it. But I was so fucking tired. I needed at least a couple days to gather myself. Plus, after Europe, my tan was nonexistent. All of my clothes were still packed in a suitcase. I couldn’t remember what bills needed to be paid. Things were in disorder.
Thirty minutes after I’d dumped him off in Sunland, Tyler called my cell. “Ori! Hey baby, what are you doing? Can you come back here? Roach wants to talk to you.”
Then he just handed the phone to someone else, putting me on the spot, right as I was saying, “No, Tyler! I don’t want to talk to him right now. Don’t.” Roach was a nice enough director and always had an earful of compliments for me, but I didn’t care what he had to say at that moment. Every time I got on the phone with him he talked for an hour, and I knew it would be about work.
“Hello, Ori?” It was Nelson. “Ori, can you come back to the Tuxford House? Andromeda has cancelled at the last minute. She’s come down with gonorrhea this morning and can’t do it. It’s putting Roach in a very difficult position. He’ll lose a lot of money if we have to kill this next scene. All of the guys are here, doing the first scene. Can you please come and do it, Ori? We need you to come and do the second scene.”
Tears filled my eyes. “I can’t. I can’t just come back and do it last minute. I don’t want to do any more gang bangs, at least for a while. I can’t do it.” I was panicking. I had to be strong. Don’t let them talk you into it, I told myself.
“Ori, listen. I need you. We need you. You’re the best—the scene will be better for it. All of the guys are here, all ready to go, and it won’t be as long as your last one. We have two cameras, and Roach has promised to be very quick. Guinevere is doing her scene first. We can start right away on the next scene as soon as you get here, won’t take long at all. It’s a lot of money, Ori. You would really be saving the day.”
Unfortunately, I wasn’t a tough sell. My problem always lay in the inability to give a firm no for an answer. “I can’t. I’m sorry. No,” I sobbed. But my voice was weak. My weakness was no match. Nelson fed upon weakness to get to the top of our frail porno ecosystem’s food chain.
“Ori. Please. I know you’re capable of this. It would really help out Roach a lot. If we don’t get someone, everything will be lost. None of us will get to do the second scene or get paid for it. It will cost Roach the location. It’ll be a mess. Please, would you just do us this favor?”
“Ashley Blue!” Roach’s voice boomed in my ear. “Ashley Blue, how are you? Nelson’s told you already about Andromeda and our little situation here. It would mean so much to me if you could come here and take her place. You are an absolute star, and you can handle this no problem. I shoot fast. You know that. Well, I’ll shoot doubly fast this time. There are two cameras here. All of the guys are here and they’re all dudes you’ve worked with before. It would be a disaster if we can’t get a girl to do this second scene. A real girl, like you. Guinevere, my wife the superstar, is in the other scene. If you could come back and be a part of this, we will have one incredible movie. Ashley Blue, there is no one else who can do this but you. Will you please say yes and be here by noon?”
It felt like I was already being gangbanged by the phone. Every man I trusted was talking me into doing this scene, acting like they were all trapped in a mine shaft and I was Lassie. Time to save the day, girl! Pull them out of their life-threatening plight by coming to their gang-bang rescue. How was I going to say no?
“Baby?” The phone had been passed back to Tyler. “You can do this, Ori. I know you can. We know everybody here. It’ll be quicker than last time. You can literally save the day if you come here. It will mean so much to Roach. I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry. I love you, baby. Come on, please? Applesauce?�
� He hit below the belt with that one. He used the pet name he’d given me. I adored being called Applesauce.
I relented. “Fine. But I don’t know how soon I can be there. I look like shit! My nails are fucked up and my life is fucked up,” I screamed. “I’m not prepared at all! I’m fucking hungry, Tyler! I wanted to eat today!” I punched the seat of my car. That was something I picked up from Tyler.
“Baby,” he said softly, sweetly. “You look great. You’re beautiful no matter what. Just throw some heels and stuff in a bag and come down here. You can eat later, when we’re done. We can eat whatever you want. Just go see Ernesto before you come here. I love you, Applesauce. We’ll see you in a little while. Bye.” Why can’t I just say no to people? I beat myself up about it, crying on the floor in my apartment when I was supposed to be getting ready for my gang bang. I had some coke, but not enough to put me into a euphoric mental state. I wanted to be drunk, but I didn’t have any more vodka. Tyler had put an empty bottle back in the freezer. I went to drink from it, and there wasn’t even a shot left. I viciously and dearly hated him for it. I was actually scared to do this scene.
I’d done a gang bang earlier that year, in the summer. I’d never fucked so many guys at once. Up until then the most guys I’d fucked in a scene were four, for Down the Hatch 9, not necessarily a gang bang in the world of porn. I was excited about it. I’d worked with the director, B-Bone, on Service Animals 10. I was so cocky and sure of myself that I could handle it, no problem. This was B-Bone’s first time directing a gang bang. How could it be much different from any other type of scene? I was into hardcore, anal and double penetrations. This was the next step, I thought, naturally.
The movie was called 7 The Hard Way. The scene started with me in a wheelbarrow. Seven large guys surrounded me. Each one slapped me and grabbed my face. They spit on me and pulled my hair. It seemed like they were all trying to outdo each other, to prove who could rough me up the most. I smiled and went along with the action. I did my best not to break down. Breaking down, crying, or complaining was a no-no. Plus, I wanted them all to see how hardcore I was. They throat-fucked me hard and I tried my best to enjoy it. My drool was all over the floor and dripping from each guy’s cock. They pounded my ass and puss at the same time. My ass was fucked with two dicks at once. It went on for hours. B-Bone seemed unsatisfied with the footage. We needed more. It wasn’t enough. All seven guys kept fucking me until I could no longer go on.
B-Bone finally directed us into the pop-shot position. Five hours after the scene started, I was hardly able to move. My holes were stretched and swollen from the constant cock rubbing and ramming. There were several rips in my throat and cuts in my mouth. My ass had blood on it when I wiped it with a baby wipe, but I was used to that. Assholes always bleed during anal scenes. My head was sore where my hair had been ripped out. The guys didn’t mean to pull out my hair, but it got caught on their fingers when they yanked me around. It was a tangled disaster from being shoved onto so many different cocks. Tears stained my cheeks. I could hardly lift my arms, they were so sore from being held up in so many standing DPs.
The seven men dumped their loads into my mouth one by one. B-Bone wanted me to hold all of it in my mouth until each guy had finished cumming. I just stared into the camera, my mouth full of seven different kinds of sperm. It was horrific. B-Bone ordered me to swallow after I held it there for about a minute. It felt like I’d been waiting forever. It hurt just to swallow at all. As soon as it went down my enflamed throat, I showed the camera. Then I ran to the bathroom and vomited.
That shoot made me ill. I’d been completely worn down, physically. I developed a high fever. Tyler didn’t know what to do, so he took me to Whole Foods to get some organic food. He thought I needed nutrients, but what I really needed was a doctor. I almost fainted in the store. Tyler grabbed a Whole Foods fair-trade Alpaca sweater off a shelf and wrapped me in it. I don’t remember what happened afterwards. I blacked out.
We went to the doctor the next morning, the same one who prescribed Tyler Viagra and Xanax. It was too shameful to explain to any respected physician that I was sick from a gang bang. Pornography was too socially demoralizing for me to seek out better care for my body. I believed that any good doctor would tell me to quit doing porn, that I was hurting myself. A smart doctor would be able to tell that I was a drug addict, too. I had to stay away from this kind of advice.
What I had was strep throat and exhaustion. Surprisingly, I didn’t catch gonorrhea or chlamydia. I did develop a very painful yeast infection. It was from having way too many different men’s bacteria inside my vagina. I was better in a couple weeks, but I learned a valuable lesson: Gang bangs were too much for me. It was my first limit. I’d found something in porno that I was not good at. I swore them off forever. Tyler supported me at the time. Until, that is, Roach and Nelson brought it up, and Tyler was one of the bangers. I didn’t stand a chance.
I had to do my own makeup for this shit, too, which pissed me off. I was doing everyone a huge favor by filling in on such short notice, and they couldn’t even provide a makeup artist? Roach wanted it heavy. Well, too bad. I didn’t know how to do heavy makeup, and I wasn’t about to try. I’d lost my entire makeup collection in France a couple weeks before. All I’d bought since was a grey eye shadow, blush, and mascara. What did it matter how I looked? Anybody who was going to be watching this movie wouldn’t care what my makeup looked like. Gang bangs aren’t exactly about the girl’s glamour. They are about brutality, getting ravaged. The girl always looks fucked up the whole time. The gang bang is slightly more than the video sequence of a rape fantasy. Whose rape fantasy? I suppose it could be anyone’s. It could be the guys’ or the girl's.
My hooker heels got thrown against the wall a couple times before I stuck them in a bag. I did as much coke as I could and took the rest with me in the car. I did get a hold of Ernesto before I left for the scene. I was visibly upset. I think he felt sorry for me. He sold me drugs and wished me luck.
The Tuxford house is the ugliest location to shoot porn. It’s also the cheapest place you can rent that’s big enough to film an entire movie in one day. It’s over an acre of property, but it’s trashed. The walls are dilapidated. The plumbing is constantly backed up. Hundreds of beers have been spilled on its carpets. Its pool houses as much piss and vomit as it does water. The man who owns it is a very kind old pervert, but he’s too old to stop his house from being destroyed. Cum, cooze, spit, shit, and lube cover the walls of this four-bedroom, Southern Californian home. Once a nice place, with a tennis court, poolroom, gym, billiard room, and horses’ stable, it’s drenched in human DNA now.
I walked through the front door, where Guinevere’s scene was taking place. The sight of her left me in awe. She was taking on the same eight guys I was going to. She looked like she was in total control of them. Even though she was outnumbered, she moved from position to position on her own. They didn’t tug at her or toss her around. She was taking double vaginal and double anal penetration like it felt good. It was hard sex, but they weren’t being rough. No one was acting like a tough guy. There wasn’t any spit on her face or bruises on her arms. Maybe I would do fine, like they said. If it was easy-looking for Guinevere, then I could probably handle it myself.
I was worried about my bowels. For a month straight, Tyler and I did nothing but eat cheese and cured meats in Europe. How much of it was left to come out of my intestines was unknown. I hadn’t shit during a scene since the infamous Barely Legal shoot. I usually had more time to prepare. I liked to starve for at least twenty-four hours and do fifteen to twenty enemas. I enjoy cleaning my ass out. It’s a therapeutic exercise. I had to be totally empty in order to accommodate a gang bang. I could be getting ass-fucked for five hours again. I prayed my butt would stay clean for the whole scene.
I wore the same dress I’d worn two days prior in Slave Dolls. We began the scene with me on my knees. All of the men stood over me in a circle, surrounding me. I was in a hollowe
d-out portion of the brick floor in the poolroom. The walls were made of see-through plastic. At least they put some pillows down for my knees. All of the cocks came out of the pants. They circled around my face. The aerial view must have looked like some kind of prehistoric penis flower. The cocks smacked and rubbed against my face. The men started calling me whore and commanding me to suck their cocks. “Yeah, get down on it! Swallow it. Suck my balls! You fucking whore! Is this what you want? Yeah, take it. Take it all the way down.”
My face was grabbed and passed around from cock to cock. It wasn’t smooth and controlled like Guinevere’s scene. It was a free-for-all. I was manhandled and shoved onto different bodies. There wasn’t a second for me to breathe in between chokes. I couldn’t see anything but dicks. Ball-sweat and spit covered my face. I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t get enough air to make a sob. I heaved and cowered from the cocks. I had to stop. Tyler and Roach pulled me out of the brick hole. Tyler held me while I cried. I knew I couldn’t stop now. If I’d just ran away, I’d have to face everyone later. They all wanted me to finish, so I did.
“I’m all right now. It’s okay. Just don’t be as rough,” I sucked it up and got into it as much as I could possible feign.
Roach put his arm around me and led me into the living room for a pep talk. This was his specialty. He could talk at length and with great intensity about anything. He made me forget my fear and misery about what we were doing. “Ashley Blue,” he said, looking deep into my eyes and handing me a lit smoke, “you are doing great. This is incredible. You are a star and you will be just as big a star as Guinevere. Are you all right? Do you need anything else? Some water? Let’s get going so we can wrap this up and go home. We’ve got two cameras on you this time. So, let’s go!”