Inside Seka - The Platinum Princess of Porn (16 page)

I had never been exposed to something like this before. I actually had a hard time looking people in the eye, because the first thing you want to do is look at their crotch when they’re naked and it’s hard to avoid that. It was a lot of information to take in all at once. Quite overwhelming.

Ken suggested we walk towards the back and see what was going on. There were bedrooms with nothing else in the room except mattresses with folks furiously going at it. I thought, “My God, this is a fuck fest.” It was a real, live porn movie, except expanded and without cameras, spilling out all over a huge house, all at once. It made my head spin. The loops I was shooting were nothing like this.

Ken wanted to go into one of the rooms and I really was not comfortable doing that. He was quite excited, so I told him, “If you want to go, then go.” I was tired. I didn’t want to have sex. I’d just come off a film shoot two days earlier. I was exhausted. I figured if he got off with someone else, at least I wouldn’t have to do it with him later that evening.

There was a little patio outside the dining room area leading to a pool and a Jacuzzi. People were hanging around in bathing suits. Decent music was playing. I was hitting the free buffet, more interested in eating and drinking than fucking and sucking.

A couple came up to me and started talking. They were probably in their mid to late thirties. Both were a little heavyset, he more than she. They just sat down and chatted with me. No pressure. No nothing. I was enjoying the conversation with these very nice people. His name was Jack and she was June. She was an executive at a bank and he owned his own business. I found it interesting that swingers seemed to come from every walk of life.

An hour or so passed. In the meantime, my boyfriend was in another room having sex with someone and it didn’t bother me at all. In fact, I wasn’t even enjoying sex with him that much anymore because it felt like it wasn’t with me, but rather about what I had done on set. Ken no longer made love to Dottie; he just fucked Seka.

Ken suddenly came walking out. He was naked, which kind of surprised me. I said, “If you’re done, put your clothes on.”

He looked at me and asked, “Are you okay?”

“Everything’s fine.” I introduced him to Jack and June and soon after I said, “Do you mind if we go? I’m really tired.”

We went back to the hotel where we were staying and he asked me what I thought about the whole thing. I said, “It was interesting. But I don’t know if I’d feel comfortable having sex there.” I told him I noticed the female couples were having so much fun and he brought up that they might ask me to do that in a film one day. I thought, “How bad could that be?”

He started to get in bed and it occurred to me he’d just been with someone else and God knows how many others so I said, “Go take a shower.” When he came back to bed he started to try to play around with me and I responded, “Look, I’m really tired. I’m not in the mood for this,” and I went to sleep.

In the morning we got up, took the dogs out, and over breakfast I looked at him and asked, “We’ve been out here a couple of weeks. Are we staying?” It wasn’t easy living out of hotels with two dogs and all our crap.

He found us a place in Diamond Bar in Pomona County. We go to the house and it’s in a great looking neighborhood. I thought it had to be really expensive. It had a circular driveway with iron gates and a pool. Two huge front doors opened at the same time leading into a large foyer and staircase. There were a couple of steps into the living room. Then there was a dining room area and sliding glass doors that led to a pool and Jacuzzi.

I was like a kid at Christmas. To me, it was a mansion. I’d never seen anything that was so elegant. But in my awe and immaturity, I never asked how the hell we could ever afford anything like this. I didn’t quite have a handle on how much I was making doing loops and posing for stills. Ken wasn’t really doing anything except “managing” me. Meanwhile, it was Bill Margold who was getting me the actual gigs, so I didn’t really understand where Ken came in at all. I didn’t know if he had savings from the stores back east or what, but I didn’t ask enough questions and I should have. In the meantime, I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Every Sunday morning, I had mimosas and shrimp in the Jacuzzi and read the newspaper. That was heaven to me. What I would come to discover was not only was I paying for most of this, Ken chose it because he knew companies were paying location fees for photo shoots and movies, and he had planned from day one to pocket that money on shoots at our house. I had no idea whatsoever. I was looking at it as my home, while he was thinking of it as a business. Since I didn’t have to travel to a set in the morning, I didn’t mind doing some of my shoots there. Still, I didn’t realize I was getting screwed in more ways than one.

I thought I had placated Ken by going to that one swing party. Boy, was I wrong. Once he’d gotten a taste of it, he wanted to go again and again and again. The thing is, single guys were rarely allowed in, so he needed me as his ticket, and that’s exactly how I felt — I was nothing but a ticket. It also didn’t hurt that I was attractive. Even if I wasn’t participating, I made Ken look good by being his date. It’s the same thing in everyday life. A guy walks into a bar with a mousy-looking woman and no one notices him. He walks in with a stunner and all the girls want to snatch him up, figuring he must be something special.

I tried to find ways of entertaining myself, but I was never really into it. It was Ken’s thing, he was my guy — despite there being little real love between us — so I went along. It was like being a football widow. Even if you hate the game, you pull on his favorite team’s jersey, go to a few games, and try to amuse yourself. I know, most women would not have done this for their man, but I was in the sex business, so it was less odd for me than most other women. But it wasn’t for me, it was all for him.

Me and Ken in Vegas.

My first agent, Bill Margold.

Me and Ken.

Swinging with Ken at the original Plato’s Retreat (his idea, not mine).

20.
Miss Swedish Erotica

There were loops and there were features. Only the biggest stars got to do features. On the other hand, there were a lot more loops being done than features, so lots of A-List porn stars did loops as well, in between features. The whole thing was like baseball. You began in the rookie leagues, then moved up to the minor leagues, and finally the majors — except even those in the majors still played in the high minors now and then just to make ends meet.

Loops were often compiled together into a sort of feature, kind of like a mix tape. For that reason, the same scene might be used not only in one compilation, but in any number of compilations. That’s why it’s a joke when porn actors try to count how many movies they’ve been in. You do one scene and it ends up in twenty different compilations. Is that one film or twenty? Worse yet, we never got paid for the multiple times a scene was used. We’d get paid for a day’s work and that was it. Sometimes we’d complain and get suckered into making a deal for “something on the back end,” which was a total joke. We’d be promised some sort of percentage or something down the line, but none of us ever saw a dime. We got what we got paid for that one day’s work and not a penny more, even if that scene was used a million times, forever and ever, amen.

The top name in loops was Swedish Erotica. They were the big time, the place where even the features actors continued to work even after they’d become big stars.

Soon Swedish Erotica came calling for me, and I completely flipped out. Unlike most new girls who came on the adult scene, my time spent working in Ken’s stores taught me who was who in the business. When I went to meet with them I thought, “Damn, I can really make a living at this. If these guys are here, I’ve arrived.”

We met, we hit it off, and I was the new Swedish Erotica Girl. Of course, there were a lot of Swedish Erotica girls, but now I was part of their stable of players. Their loops were probably the most popular in the adult book stores, and their compilations were spliced together and ran as if they were features in adult movie theaters — a thing of the past from back in the days before home video. And once home video came around, their compilation tapes were always top sellers — not that I saw any financial benefit.

I was doing scenes constantly. It all became more comfortable and natural for me. I began to see some of the same faces both in front of and behind the camera, which made me less apprehensive when I’d show up for a day at work. And it was work. For a twenty-minute scene, I’d be there all day long, doing this, doing that. Waiting, lots of waiting, just like in a mainstream movie.

Whenever I walked into a room, all eyes were on me. This crazy, accidental look of mine was turning heads. It made me very self-conscious, but I used that to my advantage. Do I shock you? Good. It puts you on your heels and me in a position of strength. I became less and less of a wallflower. I wouldn’t call myself a diva, but if something was way out of line, I wasn’t afraid to say so — politely and professionally — and it usually got fixed. The bedspread was dirty — get me a clean one. I needed a cigarette break — I asked and I got one. Pretty basic stuff that professional, polite parties should be able to work out without a big fuss, which was not always the case between filmmakers and actors. Some of the girls were treated like meat and it continued because they accepted it. I didn’t. I liked the money I was making and the attention I was being given, but I wasn’t really thinking long term. It was good for now, but if they fired me, I’d do something else tomorrow. It never occurred to me that if I pissed someone off I’d be lying in a gutter, begging for spare change. I always seemed able to bounce from one thing to another. I may not have been a career girl in the classic sense, but that actually worked to my advantage. Someone who wanted to be an accountant would be more worried that if they had a blow-out with a boss they’d not only lose their job, they might never work as an accountant again. Me, I had no problem changing what I wrote on an application when it asked for “occupation.” I was whatever I was doing at that moment. Work of some kind was everywhere for a person willing to do it.