Girlvert: A Porno Memoir (9 page)

Chapter Thirteen

Choked Out

T
echnically
,
I did ask for it. When Pro Trusion had asked me if he could choke me, I told him he could. I liked it when Tyler and Mark Davis had done it to me during sex. It was erotic. My experience with it had been good, so far. I was very trusting to let men do what they thought was best. I never wanted to say no. I thought that saying no meant that I was holding myself back from something new. Experience was very important to me. I got off, emotionally, on being persuaded. “No” was not a very strong word in my vocabulary.

Tyler and I were asked to do another shoot for Pro Trusion. It was to be a very rough blowjob scene with some slapping. Both Tyler and Trusion would be choking and slapping me. This information was provided up front. I thought I knew what I was committing myself to. I thought it was safe because Tyler would be there with me.

It was a gorgeous day. Tyler and I casually strolled up to the door of the condo. The building was nice and new, on a peaceful street in Tarzana. We’d been there before, when Tyler was hired to get a blowjob from some girl named Gemstone. I tagged along to watch his performance. He throat fucked this chick and she threw up In-N-Out burger all over his dick. It was disgusting. I could smell it. She refused to clean it up, so I stepped in. I wiped the grey, lumpy mess off of Tyler’s cock and lap. Then I got him hard, sucking his vomit-coated penis until he was solid enough to stick it in Gemstone again.

Voltron met us at the door. He led us upstairs to the master bedroom. The entire condo was almost empty. It looked like nobody had ever even lived in it. A couch, desk, and a lamp were the only items of furniture. The place was large, three stories and three bedrooms. Pro Trusion bragged about how he owned it and had built the entire complex. We just shrugged and told him that it was great. It was not a great place, but it was spacious. We climbed the steps to the top floor and entered the room where the scene was going to be shot. There were some lights set up, and a bed. Pro Trusion sat in a chair. He was cheerful. He talked nonstop as soon as we entered the room. He went on and on about how excited he was to choke me. I was finally going to know how it’s really done, the right way. I just smiled and went along. Whatever they wanted to do, I was game.

The camera was rolling and Pro began with his preliminary questions. He was so vile. Looking at him made me shudder. His teeth were brown, his breath like rancid garbage. He was smart enough to intimidate me, but I didn’t think he was better than me. I didn’t look up to him or admire him the way I did Tyler or Mark Davis. Pro Trusion was just an old, gross pervert. Any submissiveness I felt was merely a game. I really didn’t think I had any reason to fear Pro.

He leaned in close to my face and looked into my eyes. It was like he was trying to use his eyes to stomp all over mine. Then he pinched my nose and held my mouth shut, suffocating me. He twisted my nose, hard, and I started to cry. He released me.

“It’s just the nose that made you cry, right?” he said, and he put his hands around my throat. His mouth was watering. “So if I go like this, this isn’t going to make you cry, is it? This is scary, isn’t it? Is it scary?”

“Yes…”

Not another ounce of air went into my lungs before Pro Trusion clenched my throat. He squeezed with both of his big hands, tightly. One hand was in front and one behind, cutting air off completely. He stood up as he choked me. Pro stared into my gaze. It was obvious that I wasn’t expecting this, and I was terrified. It’s what he wanted. His grip was so hard that his teeth were clenching. When his mouth parted, a smile formed. He was sneering at me. Darkness and murder filled his eyes. He was strong, and he had me. I couldn’t protest. I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t ready. Pro was hurting me. I was naked and this man was strangling me.

“We’re proud of you, okay? Alright, you’re a good girl. So now your nose is not being hurt, so you’re not going to cry, are you? Huh? Don’t move your hands! Put your hands behind your back!” His grip went even tighter.

Tyler just watched. Voltron filmed. I thought I was just going to give Tyler and Pro blowjobs. It was too late to stop it. I couldn’t do anything while Pro’s hands wrung my neck. My legs went numb. The rest of my body felt a wave of warmth, but it was not a good warmth. I had no oxygen and was beyond dizzy. Big white and black spots appeared. I could no longer see, yet my eyes were still open. I was fighting to keep my eyes open—for fear that they would not reopen. I lost control of my muscles. My tongue started flopping in and out of my mouth.

I need help
, I thought. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t form the words to call for Tyler, who still sat and watched me. Everything went limp. My arms dropped from where they were trying to pry Pro’s hands away. My eyes fluttered in one final attempt to live. My face went crimson and I passed out, gurgling. Then, I died.

I saw it. I saw that tunnel with the light at the end. There is definitive credence to the lore. I was alone in a dark place, but it was peaceful. When I looked into the light, I not only saw my entire life, but I felt it, too, passing through me like a specter. No specifics, but each primary emotion I had ever lived through I felt all at once in that light. All I can remember explicitly are visions from childhood. Then, I died a horrible death. At the end of it, I felt safety in the tunnel. It was real.

As suddenly as it all went black, I found myself back in the room, on the bed. My eyes opened.
This isn’t Heaven
. I was looking at the white ceiling. I was lying on my back, on the bed in Tarzana. Tyler was there, staring at me, and a camera was rolling. I sucked in some air and let out a sob. Deep sobs kept coming from the bottom of my lungs, hyperventilation. How long had I been passed out? I was disoriented, scared and crying. Pro Trusion looked at me with self-satisfaction. I had broken down, finally, in front of this man. All he wanted was to see me cower in fear of him.

“That’s what you get for not going on a date with me.”

Nobody acted like it was a big deal. Pro Trusion was smiling. Tyler was eager to finish the blowjob scene. I was hysterical. Voltron kept at the camera.

Pro said, “Well, when I was younger I used to ask girls like you out on dates all the time and they would say ‘no,’ so now I’m forced to do this. You understand what I’m saying? You sure?
I’m dead serious.
You’re very lucky I’m not in the scene. We could do that for three hours.”

Tyler put his hands around my throat, saying, “I know you can do this. I promise I won’t choke you out like he did. I’ve seen you do this before without crying.”

After Tyler’s failed attempt to slap me around and shove his cock in my throat, Pro cancelled the scene. I couldn’t stop crying, so we had to stop. I felt like I was the problem. It was embarrassing. I was the only one who was upset. Was I crazy or fucked up? I was so confused after letting a man I trusted professionally try to choke me to death. Why couldn’t I stop crying while they all acted like the day was perfectly fine?

To make himself into the big hero for the day, Pro Trusion paid Tyler and me a couple hundred dollars for a “kill fee.” It was almost a real kill fee. Pro almost killed me. And I let him. So did Tyler. We took the money, gladly, and went to sushi with this man afterward. I was a shell of a person the whole rest of that day, cracking skin of the locust. I was still in shock, traumatized.

I tried to forget any of it had happened. I didn’t want to let it stop me from doing porno scenes. I still wanted to be in porn, so I kept partying and performing in all the movies I could. I even did more scenes for Pro Trusion with Tyler. I acted like the choking didn’t bother me because I didn’t want to show any of them how much this horrible man had scared me. I would just roll my eyes and laugh about it.

The footage of me getting choked ended up on Pro’s website. His knuckles are red around my neck. Many people saw it. It was so brutal that I got phone calls from producers that I didn’t even know asking if I was okay. When I saw the video, it upset me all over again. It was an embarrassing first impression to present to people that didn’t know me. I was still relatively new to the business and already crying and getting choked on the internet. It was so disturbing that Pro himself even took it off the site soon after it was made public. Nothing about it was sexual except that I was naked. It just looked like I was being attacked. The sole purpose of Pro’s actions was to hurt and scare me. It’s what he always and ultimately had in store for any porno girl that he hired for a scene. Pro Trusion is a sick person—I wouldn’t even call him a sadist because that would sexualize him too much. I was green and vulnerable enough to allow myself into the situation. Though scared and shocked, I did not get fully angry about it until a year and a half later. Tyler and I even rented the very same condo in which I was choked to death. We lived there for a year and slept in the bedroom where it happened.

I stay away from creeps now. It took me a few years to finally shake Pro Trusion. I thought it would prove how much I’d grown as a person if I could be friendly with this man. I even asked him to be my date to an awards show. It didn’t prove a thing. Only that I am capable of being wrong and na
ï
ve and savagely hopeful over and over. Instead of making me the bigger person, befriending Pro afterward only served to legitimize and glorify his actions.

I thought that I needed to “get over it.” So I did. Like a lot of traumatic events that happen in life, it just had to be put aside. People close to me, like Tyler, continued to act like it wasn’t a big deal. I was fine, and that’s all that mattered. It was even funny to some people, because it didn’t happen to them. It happened to me. I was choked to death. Then I woke up.

Chapter Fourteen

Anal Fisting

I
t
was a little before eight in the morning. Tyler and I left Hollywood for Tujunga. We were working for a new director. He was hiring us together as a couple. The director’s name was Roach. It was stressed by Roach not to be late. Maybe he had heard about our legendary tardiness. We always showed up to porno shoots at least a half hour late. Sometimes Tyler and I were hours late. Other times, we didn’t show up at all. Love and cocaine were the biggest things in our lives. Porno came third and suffered because of the first two.

Luckily, Tyler and I were getting along great that morning. We were excited to meet this guy, Roach. He sought us out and spoke to both of us on the phone for hours. He told us all about the porn business and how he made a success out of his wife, Guinevere. They were millionaires from doing porn. Guinevere was the anal queen and he taught her everything she knew about anal sex.

Tyler was eager to work for this man because Roach was the first person who was happy that I had a boyfriend. Everyone up until then had been very rude to Tyler. He tried to prove we were a cool couple and that he loved the fact that I fucked other guys. Tyler was actually the opposite of all of the other porno boyfriends we’d met, guys who stared at the ground and seethed with anger while their girlfriends got fucked. Some just chain-smoked cheap cigarettes and fidgeted, waiting for the girlfriend’s paycheck. The boyfriends tried to act tough, talking about how they’re used to beating asses. There were a lot of what we called suitcase pimps, boyfriends that carried their girlfriends’ porno clothes and shoes and drove them to set. Pussy guys that don’t like to work. They spend their days controlling the money of the porno girlfriend. The suitcase pimp is a staple in the porn industry. It’s a full-time job created by these special circumstances. For instance, when a girl is too drugged-out or belligerent to make it to a shoot, her suitcase pimp will drive her to work and wait for her to finish getting fucked. Many suitcase pimps sit around and smoke pot and drink soda on a given day of production.

Different directors and other male talent made it a point to try to make Tyler feel insecure. Victor disrespected Tyler and said plainly that we would probably be broken up by the business. So did some other male porno stars. They were all jealous of us, we thought. Nothing was ever going to break us up. Porn was just porn, not our entire lives. We were in love. They just didn’t understand. My boyfriend was special. He encouraged me during my scenes. He wanted to see me get double penetrated and get covered in cum. Without Tyler behind me all the way, I wouldn’t have been pushing the limits of my sexuality. I had his full support.

Roach told Tyler to hold on to me, that I would be a star and that we could be a very successful couple just like him and Guinevere. Instead of predicting the time it would take for us to break up, Roach gave Tyler and I hoards of advice. Save the money. Do every scene we can. Work for everyone. Don’t have an agent. Don’t be late. Work together as much as possible. Don’t let me get a star attitude or put on airs once I’m famous. Always call him if we needed to talk about someone or something going wrong. We could count on Roach. He was on our side.

We made it to Tujunga at exactly eight o’clock. It was the first time Tyler and I had ever been on time going to a shoot together. We made sure not to oversleep. I took the extra precaution by staying up all night, sniffing coke, the ritual. I was high, as usual, and ready to shoot my porno scene. I could get away with it, somehow. I guess it’s because I was only twenty. Despite the runny nose, I still looked sweet and innocent. I was happy. I knew that all the attention would be focused on me when I shot a scene.

Roach looked nothing like I’d imagined. Hearing his voice on the phone, I could only think of a friendly, nurturing, and only sort-of insane nice man.
Totally harmless
, I thought when we spoke. But Roach
looked
like a person who would harm you. He had tattoos covering every inch of his body, except his face. His neck, arms, chest, back, and fingers were inked. All of them crappy jail tattoos. One of them on his chest read “WHITE TRASH.” He was bald, but covered it up with a black bandana tied around his head. I wasn’t sure if he was sensitive about his hairline or if it was a skinhead thing. All of his clothes were black, including his boots. He smoked Winstons and wore silver jewelry.

“Ashley Blue! And Trent! It’s great to meet you. We are going to have a killer and knockout scene today, right? I hear that your scenes are the best around right now. It’s going to be all hardcore and anal. We’ve got to have high energy and hard fucking today! Let’s get you ready, and then we’ll go upstairs to start the scene. Before we begin, let’s fill out the paperwork, then talk about what we are going to do. We’ve got to go for the extreme. Ashley, are you going to show me how you can push yourself to the outermost limits? Are you going to give me the hardest-core scene of your entire career?” Hardcore anal were the movies Roach was all about, what mattered most in life.

Of course I would do my hardest scene. Roach’s enthusiasm made me feel loved. Tyler and I felt appreciated. I got ready as best as I could. There was no makeup artist to turn me into a whore. I had to do it myself. I didn’t really know how. Roach wanted big hair and dark eye makeup. How do I look like that? I didn’t even own dark makeup. My look was a fresh, young girl, not a cheap, overly-done stripper. As for the hair, it’s still a mystery how some porno stars can even get it that big. When I had done all I could with a can of aerosol hairspray and some sticky Mac lip gloss, I emerged from the bathroom. I was plenty high. I brought extra coke with me to get me through the day. I always brought more with me when I was doing heavy anal scenes. It was a way for me to get energy without having to eat. Eating before and during an anal scene is taboo. Your bowels have to be completely empty when big porno cocks are pounding and gaping the asshole. If you eat, there will be shit. It’s like Newton’s Law or something.

Two massive Kino Flos were lying on the brown carpet in the bedroom upstairs. The room was plain as usual. Only a bed and a dresser for furniture. There was plenty of room for a guy named Quasar to move around. He was the cameraman. Roach came in to direct us all into what he called one of his masterpieces. He was absolutely radiant. I had never seen a man so enthusiastic and crazy about shooting pornography before. Roach called it “decadent anal love.”

“Ashley Blue, would you follow me, please,” Roach ordered, not asked. He had the best intentions though, I was sure. “You come, too, Trent. I want to show you both something.” He guided us over to a laptop. The images on the screen were ones Roach had taken for Guinevere’s website. “This is Guinevere’s site,” he said with pride. “It makes thousands of dollars a month. Do you know why? I’ll tell you. Because it has the most extreme and hardcore content. That is what sets her above the rest of the girls in porn. Guinevere has broken world records with what has gone into her ass. She holds the world record for putting the most chopsticks into her ass—one hundred chopsticks. Look at this.”

Roach clicked on a photo gallery and a startling image appeared. Guinevere was lying on her side and looking back over her right shoulder, smiling. Her tiny arm reached back behind her, reaching her ass. The hand was not in the picture. Or was it? It was. Only, the hand wasn’t visible because it was completely encased inside of her butthole. She was fisting her ass. It looked incredible!

“Is she fisting it?” I gasped.

“Yes. She’s fisting her own ass. Isn’t it amazing? I taught her how to do that. Today, I’m going to teach you, Ashley Blue.” Roach grinned and put his hand on my shoulder. His blue eyes were sparkling.

“What? I don’t know. How is it going to get in there? It’s too big!” I looked at my own hand. Involuntarily, it had already gone into a fist as soon as I thought about the possibility.

Roach grabbed my fist. He wrapped his own fingers around my knuckles. Then he pulled his hand away, sizing my hand. “See that,” he pointed to the measurement of my fist in the open “O” of his hand. “That’s Mark Davis, right there. His dick’s no smaller than your fist. You can do this, easy. You’ve taken Marcus in the ass. He’s way bigger than your hand. Don’t worry, I’ll show you.”

I lied down on the bed. With the camera rolling, we began the intro to the scene. Roach needed some build-up to the fisting and the sex. He handed Tyler some things to stick in my ass. A beer bottle and a candle, which they lit. It was just for show. I wasn’t going to get fucked with those. Then Tyler’s fingers went in. They were big and rough. I hate scratchy man fingers going into my ass. They are never manicured and often have gnarly hangnails or jagged edges. His callused digits continued to dry-fuck my hole, in an effort to stretch it. It only made me tighten up from being so uncomfortable.

I was relieved when it was my turn to put fingers in. Thank god it was my own hand that was going to do the fisting. My hands are lovely, I must say. I am vain about my hands. Roach poured an oil-based lubricant all over the hand that was going inside. I was on my side lying down. My arm came around my side; I put my hand in between the ass cheeks. I found the butt-hole. Slowly, I pushed all four fingers in. The thumb went next. All of the fingers were in and I kept on easing the rest into the anal cavity. It was a shock how easily my knuckles slid in there. I was relaxed and eager to accomplish putting the whole fist in.

Once my hand got past the knuckles, Roach gave me the final cue. “Okay, Ashley Blue, close your hand,” he said.

I folded all four of my fingers and one thumb into a fist, while they were still in my ass. As soon as I did this, my hand went in a little further, too. Closing the fist made room for the entire hand. I did it! I could fist my own ass. I could trust my own hand. I could control it and it couldn’t hurt me unless I commanded it to. It was a different kind of power than being at the mercy of taking a big cock controlled by another person. The feeling in my hand was different than I expected; in a warm, wonderful little pocket, it seemed like the walls of my pussy were muscular and firm in comparison. No wonder guys love fucking girls in the ass. I was so excited and proud of myself. Everyone else was proud, too. From that point on, Tyler and I had the utmost respect and faith in this new friend of ours, Roach.

The fact that I was now an anal-fisting porno girl changed my status as a performer. I was as hardcore as it gets. To me, it meant confidence. I could take on anything now, and it would be no problem. Directors saw me as unbreakable. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that it made me a star. It did give me a false sense of durability, though, that nothing could ever hurt me. I thought, Hey, if I can fist my own ass, then I am the toughest girl on the planet. I came to find out later, the hard way, that I was wrong.