Don’t cry for Kylie Ireland.
(But don’t toast her, either. At least not with champagne.)
Kylie Ireland and I talked about Marilyn Chambers last week, and she suggested that sometimes the assumption that people need sympathy might be premature.
Marilyn Chambers was found in a trailer, and this news was sad but not surprising. That so many porn stars have met their ends in reduced or tragic circumstances strikes some as fitting, and seems to validate the prejudices people have about the adult industry. I was also sad when I heard the news of Chambers’ death, and sadder that one of the adult world’s pioneers died in such a place.
But some trailers are pretty fancy. And Chambers had a lot of irons in the fire when she died. Save for the inconvenience of dying, Ms. Chambers might have been exactly where she wanted to be.
Until I talked with her, I was pretty offended on Ireland’s behalf.
Ireland recently starred in an aptly titled Jim Powers movie called “The Violation of Kylie Ireland” in which the violations behind the scenes seemed worse than the main attraction.
Powers is such a calm, affable, professional porn producer on the surface that consumers can easily forget that nearly every one of his BTS featurettes showcases a fight, weeping, screaming, larceny, drunkenness, despair, and/or a combination of all those things. Powers keeps the cameras rolling for the misery, and will often compile the best BTS atrocities for his “Porn’s Most Outrageous Outtakes” series.
I was one of those people who called Ireland to console her about her treatment in this movie. I thought, “This woman is 38 years old and has been in the business for 15 years. People need to treat her with more respect.”
Ireland brushed it off. “It’s a really good story,” she said (and you’ll read it later on in this article). But back to Marilyn Chambers.
“She’s too young to have left us,” Ireland said. The two worked together on Chambers’ 1998 comeback movie Still Insatiable (“I was star struck,” Ireland said). “A lot of people don’t know the things she did, or what she meant to their own careers. They don’t know that this was fun for her.
“She was hysterical,” Ireland said. “She was a Brassy Old Broad.”
Kylie Ireland doesn’t claim to be a porn historian but, after 15 years in the business (she started on the same day in March, 1994 as Jenna Jameson), is still a walking encyclopedia of Porn Valley in the Internet Age.
“My first scene was with Randy West,” she said. “And I knew who he was.”
We were talking less than a week after Marilyn Chambers’ body had been found, and I asked Kylie if women entering the business in the 90’s had a sense of history; if her peers at the time would have known who Marilyn Chambers was.
“I used to manage a video store in San Diego,” Ireland said, “and I knew who many of the performers were. I was a fan first. And there were a lot fewer people in the business then; now there are more girls than ever.”
Did you make it a point to know the players before you got in?
“No, but there were fewer players on the field,” Ireland said. “That said, I do try to find out the story behind things, even if it’s an old building I see on a trip.”
This made me think of a line from “Chinatown.” Noah Cross (no relation to Eli Cross) talks about becoming respectable over time.
“‘Course I’m respectable,” he says. “I’m old. Politicians, ugly buildings, and whores all get respectable if they last long enough.”
I’m a big fan of “Chinatown,” and we can see that both Ted Kennedy and the Chicago Public Library are respectable, but time isn’t too kind to whores.
That many porn performers are not porn fans – and therefore don’t care to know the history of the business – goes hand in hand with the fact that the adult world is built around a conveyor belt of new, young talent. A sense of history almost runs counter to the trade.
You don’t have to be around too long in porn to be a font of knowledge, but that Ireland has worked steadily over the past 1.5 decades is a huge accomplishment in a world where the turnover makes 15 years look like a hundred generations.
Ireland is now 38. An early reviewer mentioned that her first scene at age 24 seemed incongruous – she looked too old to be a schoolgirl on Randy West’s lap. Consequently it seems odd to call Ireland a “veteran” when she is not yet 40, but she is.
And she seems to have taken the Powers’ movie in stride. Here is her account, copyrighted 2009 by Kylie Ireland and reprinted with her permission.
“The Violation of Kylie Ireland” – my memoir of the shoot
It was so old-school. Peeking around the bush with Bobbi Starr and director Jim Powers I felt like time had turned back and I was on a Scotty Fox or Buck Adams shoot of yesteryear. We watched Crash, the shoot PA (production assistant), stroll up the curving brick sidewalk of a nice house and knock on the door. Moments earlier, in Powers’ SUV, Jim had handed Crash a twenty-dollar bill and told him to go ring the doorbell. If someone was home Crash was to say we were making a student film and offer the owner $20 and ask if we could use the front of their house for a quick shot. Crash turned around with a shrug, meaning no one was home so we ran into the yard, Bobbi Starr lying face down in the grass, short skirt askew with panties showing, “passed out” with a mostly empty bottle of booze. I strut down the walk dressed like the perfect housewife, horrified that there is this lesbian passed out on our lawn. What WOULD the neighbors think?!?
At this point I thought the day might be fun. I’ve always liked Jim Powers; he’s a great storyteller, an oddly happy, never aging, excitable sort of fellow. He’s best known for his work as a director for JM Productions, a company infamous for their (how can I describe this?) ‘circus porn lite’ style. If it’s some weird object and it’s vaguely humiliating, Jim Powers wants to film somebody stuffing it in some girl’s ass… fire extinguishers with dildos attached, baseball bats, those pool flotation noodles… You want girls with curly-Q buttplugs having sex in an actual pig-pen filled with actual mud? Jim is your guy. It’s kind of like giving an 8-year-old a day pass as an amiably perverted adult with a video camera and a checkbook. Harmlessly disturbing.
One of his most popular series is the award winning “Violation of______” series. Basically it’s an all-girl rough-sex gangbang. And let me tell you, the stories from the Violation of shoots alone are enough to fill a book because getting a bunch of porn girls together and giving them booze is invariably a bad idea. And this day was no exception.
My shoot was to consist of 6 girls ‘violating’ me. I would portray an uptight cunty housewife hell-bent on getting those ‘dirty filthy lesbian college girls’ out of the neighborhood. My only request was that I get to pick the girls. Why? First and foremost because I wanted this scene to kick ass. I care about all the movies I am in and never want to deliver a bad scene. In the case of an extreme shoot like this you want to surround yourself with like-minded people, and in my opinion (as a performer, director, producer and company owner) one of the most important elements of a hot scene is casting. If you put together people who WANT to fuck each other, you get a great scene. It’s not rocket science.
The second reason I wanted to pick the girls has to do with the style of the scene itself… girls are much more mean than guys when it comes to gangbangs. I don’t know if it’s because we have something to prove or if the feral kitten just comes out in us but it’s true. Chicks hit harder, yell louder and fuck with a vengeance. It’s also worth mentioning that a girl with a strap-on cock can’t feel how hard or deep that plastic dildo is banging into you, or if it misses or is at a bad angle. Picking the girls wasn’t just because I wanted a few of my friends around, it was simple self-preservation.
The problem? JM wanted new girls; younger-looking girls to play the aforementioned ‘filthy college lesbians.’ Fine, I get it visually and story-wise, but since these girls were violating ME I wanted girls with some experience (or at very least girls who take it up the ass themselves), girls who know how to use a strap-on without hurting me. Girls who know how to pull hair, deliver a slap or choke someone the right way, girls who won’t scratch my insides with their fingernails… So after many go-rounds between me, Jim Powers, his PM Johnny Thrust and my agent, we came to a happy medium on the girls I would be working with. I got to pick 3 and they picked 3. Let me introduce the players:
Sammie Rhodes – a top-notch girls-only performer. Sweet as pie, cute as a button and with a quiet nasty streak. I hired her most recently for Bitch & Moan 2 to play a dominatrix to Eva Angelina’s submissive…it was an incredibly hot scene.
Bobbi Starr – only 2 years in the biz and this innocent-looking leggy brunette is a great performer who knows the right way to dominate a girl. This would be my second time working with her; the first having been for www.wiredpussy.com. I have to admit, after what she did to me with the clothespins, I’m still a bit afraid of Bobbi… in a good way.
Amber Rayne – if it’s off the charts and hardcore, Amber is your girl. I don’t think there is anything she won’t do. Amber is one of my very good friends; I tell her she has an older, wiser soul than her actual age. Professional and tough, sexual and fun. I could go on and on about Amber…
I knew from the very beginning that these were the girls that would drive the scene. They would keep me from fraying at the ends if it got tough and would fuck me better than the rest. Jim’s choices were….
Heather Starlet – new little blonde hottie. I was hesitant about Heather at first since she looks so sweet and innocent and is so young but she proved herself to be professional, sweet and a dirty girl. She hung right in there with the big dogs. I hope she can keep her head on straight, I think she’ll do very well in the biz.
Ami Emerson – I know I have met this one somewhere before but I can’t place her. A very strawberry strawberry blonde, and the curtains match the drapes. Lots of cute freckles. Pretty good dirty talker too, although there were several times I had to try not to snicker at some of the creative shit she said. She has a bit of Kami Andrews in her.
Keeani Lei – I have to digress here for a minute; what the fuck is up with all these girls with the same name in this vein right now? It’s impossible to keep them all straight, in fact Jim, Johnny and even my agent all had her name wrong…in various different forms. On any given day in Porn Valley you’ll find Kaylani Lei, Keeani Lei, Kyanna Lee, Leilani Love, Lucy Lee, Lyla Lei, Mia Lelani, Kaylani Cream, Kayme Kai, Kina Kai…confused yet? The list goes on; but I think you get my point.
Keeani was purely Jim Powers’ choice. I didn’t want her on this shoot, for many reasons. Aside from the fact that she does nothing for me physically or sexually, a week or so earlier I heard her on ‘Nightcalls,’ the Playboy Radio show before mine (The Friday Night Threeway) and she was mindnumbingly boring. And it wasn’t just me; everyone on the staff agreed wholeheartedly that when that commercial break came, she was outta there. I couldn’t imagine having to listen to her for hours on end…I prefer to at least LIKE the people I have sex with on camera. However lack of personality alone isn’t a good reason not to have someone in your scene; if THAT were true my “yes” list would be even shorter than it already is.
I’ve also directed Keeani in a few things, though I am pretty sure she has zero memory of the fact that I’ve hired her. My favorite was a scene we were shooting at my loft for Squirts So Good for DVSX. The scene was average and after it was over she went to shower off. Several minutes later she emerges from the bathroom, wide-eyed with confusion, asking “How do you turn on the shower?”
“Um… turn the handle?”
I didn’t explain all this to Jim or Johnny Thrust, I just said that I would really rather have someone else. I could tell that Jim really wanted her on the shoot or had already booked her and didn’t want to cancel her or was banging her – or all three, it didn’t matter much to me – so I said okay. It wasn’t worth fighting over. She’s one little girl out of six, how much trouble could she be?
Returning to the crappy Van Nuys studio from our little field trip to steal the opening shot, we go directly into more connecting dialogue on the cheesy bedroom and living room sets. Where some directors might have a script, Jim Powers just makes it up on the fly. He stands there in front of you, telling you what he wants you to say and you try to remember it all – at least just the basic gist of what he wants – but by the time he gets to the end of his tirade he is all excited and wide-eyed and has this stance – with his feet about 2 feet apart and his knees bent – his hands flailing around as he is talking – like a young boy and you are totally distracted and laughing and have forgotten the beginning of what he wanted. He actually has a shot list of sorts, if you can call it that… in reality it’s a numbered list scrawled on the back of what appears to be a page from someone else’s discarded script. It’s hard to tell since it is in his frantically-waving hand. I must say that at least his enthusiasm is appreciated; many people who have been directing for years don’t have that energy anymore, although I suspect the liquid enthusiasm had been flowing since, oh… around breakfast.
Questionable connecting dialogue aside, it was suddenly all rush, rush, rush. As a director myself I understand all the factors involved; no one wants to be there all night shooting and locations are usually on an hourly rate… but if there is one thing I hate as a performer, it’s being rushed. Especially when it comes to what we refer to in the industry as “girly stuff”, meaning the cleansing ritual… douches, enemas… every girl has her own systematic way of getting prepped for a scene. It’s not a terribly difficult thing; I just prefer to not be all uptight and harried. A girl wants to make sure all her holes are clean to avoid unsightly accidents, you know.
So there I am on the bathroom floor, scarfing down a banana as I rinse out my ass because we have to go right now!
Of course as I emerged from the restroom, the champagne had arrived so everything came to a screeching halt. Being that I am over 7 years clean and sober I don’t partake and when I am directing I don’t allow booze on my sets. I’m also not thrilled that the girls doing my ‘Violation’ are downing plastic cups of cheap (no, cheaper than that) champagne, but a Jim Powers set without liquor is like a Starbucks without posers so I knew what to expect, and I knew that my three were too professional to succumb to the carbonated urine allure of Andre, so I kept primping.
Once back on set the scenario called for Sammie to burst into my house and start yelling at me because I made one of her lesbian college girls cry. We yell and insult each other until I punch her, knocking her onto the couch and then pounce on top of her, my hands around her throat, screaming “Die lesbian! Go to hell where you belong!” This was all terribly fun, Sammie and I trying to beat the crap out of each other convincingly without laughing hysterically, especially when we tumbled off the couch. As we continue the fight the other girls come in… let the violation begin!
A lot of the filming was a blur; there is so much going on it creates an overwhelming sense of overstimulation. You really don’t know who is where or doing what or making you do things to them… you just hold on and go along for the ride, all the while trying to struggle and fight back, spitting out profanities when there isn’t someone sitting on your face or something stuffed in your mouth. My face was shoved into pussies and I was forced to lick cute little college girl puckers. As I put up a struggle we all tumble onto the floor in a big pile, trying not to laugh.
I see Amber – I think she is sitting on top of me – and at the very moment she decides to slap my face, (something she knows I love), I make a move to wriggle away from the girls who are holding me down, zigging when I should have zagged. A classic case of bad timing. One of her fingers ends up hooking me in the eye and it feels like my eyeball gets squished against the side of my nose! Cut! Tears spring to my eyes and Amber is right there, all apologies and concern. I tell her its okay, it wasn’t her fault, it’s just one of those things that happen when shooting a scene like this and it’s a risk you have to be prepared to take. I knew that when this scene was over I would be sporting myriad bruises and sore muscles from struggling, not to mention that my girl parts were most likely going to be tender from all the abuse.
We take a couple of minutes as I try to get focused again… I can’t see anything except gray blur out of that eye for a moment until Amber peels off the eyelash that’s was barely hanging on and hands it to me. I stick it in the middle of her forehead. With my vision was restored and my wits about me again Amber gave me a quick hug and we pick up where we left off.
Before we even started shooting sex I made it perfectly clear to everyone, director, crew and talent alike that I’m allergic to latex. This includes condoms and sex toys. It’s not a terrible allergy; for instance it doesn’t bother my skin to wear a latex dress, but if you put a latex dildo (or condom or glove) into my pussy or my ass after about 20 seconds it starts to sting and burn. And it continues to get worse, even after the offending latex object is removed. At this point my bottom lip will start quivering and the waterworks turn on, tears spilling from my eyes. It’s incredibly painful. The next thing that happens is that my girl parts will begin to swell. This is, y’know, bad when shooting a sex scene, for obvious reasons, and at that point I am done. Nothing else is going in there, not without a great deal of pain and/or an hour or more of waiting and rinsing and aspirin. I explained all of this to Jim, Johnny the PM, Crash the PA and all the girls. I brought a suitcase full of my own personal toys of varying sizes, mostly of the extra large variety (yeah, I am a size queen sometimes, whaddya want?) so that there wouldn’t be any problems. Sammie, who also has problems with latex, helped me go through the toys that Jim brought along and we picked out a few that were safe, but for the most part the toys to be used were mine.
Fast forward to Bobbi sitting on the couch and Sammie kneeling next to her with a huge black cock in a strap-on, me on my hands and knees in front of Bobbi with my ass in the air as she forces me to suck Sammie’s cock. The rest of the girls surround me wearing various strap-ons and wielding handheld implements of fuckage. All is going good until I feel something that isn’t right, someone is trying to fuck my ass, but they are doing it all wrong. Whoever it is has stuck their cock in my ass and is trying to fuck my ass with the dildo pointed straight down. Yeah, uh, newsflash, my ass doesn’t go that direction. Apparently she thinks it does though and is determined to slam that cock repeatedly into the inside wall of my ass until perhaps it does go that way. I glance behind me to see who the offending cockslinger is and see Keeani whoopin’ it up back there like a drunken cowboy. I also noticed that the camera was on a close-up shot so I turn and look up at Bobbi Starr whose look says she knows what I am thinking.
I roll my eyes then close them, taking a deep breath, trying to go to my happy place. I wrap my arms around Bobbi’s waist and bury my head in her side. I bite her waist and moan in discomfort, praying that momentarily they will move on to another girl or different toys or something. Finally, thankfully, they do, and my relief is so great at having Keeani out of my ass that it takes me a minute to register that I am being DP’d by two dildos, which is great, until my brain catches up to my sex parts and I realize that something is wrong. Terribly wrong. Burning. Stinging. I yell over the cursing and verbal abuse for a cut. ‘It’s burning’ I say, and they show me the dildos they were using. Neither one was mine nor one of the approved ones. What the fuck?!? I don’t even care who did what or who gave who what toy to use or how fucking drunk they might be… all I care about is getting to the restroom before the tears come.
I run, naked and barefoot to the restroom, hurl myself through the door and slam it behind me. Grabbing an enema and a douche bottle I dump the contents into the sink and fill them up with water as quickly as I can. I rinse my burning fuckholes and sit on the edge of the toilet, sobbing. I hear someone outside the door; it’s Amber so I let her in. She hugs me which only makes me cry harder. She asks me what I need, what can she do to help? “I don’t know…*sob*… I need to rinse again… *sniffle*… and…” glancing in the mirror and noticing my destroyed makeup and my hair standing on end I say “I obviously need a brush.” This brings a small laugh and a smile from both of us and I know then it will be okay.
Johnny Thrust knocks on the door asking for an ETA on when we can start shooting again. I want to bang my head on the wall. No. I want to bang his head on the wall.
Angry and still in pain, I open the door and step out. “It’s gonna take as long as it takes,” I say to Johnny, in a much bitchier tone than I mean to. I noticing Jim stepping out of the men’s restroom next door, buttoning his jeans, as I continue, “we will start again when I am ready, IF I am able to, and right now I am not sure if that’s even possible. I told you this is what would happen, so just chill for awhile and I will see how I feel.” I turn to go back into the women’s bathroom and as I do I notice Keeani stepping out of the men’s restroom as well. It registers, but in my pain and frustration I push the realization aside.
After a few minutes Amber and I head upstairs to the dressing room where Bobbi and Sammie are. I am thankful none of the others are there. I am angry and embarrassed and I don’t like it when people see me at a weak moment. And I look like shit. I decide to go with the look like shit problem and concentrate on seeing if I can fix my makeup a bit so I at least don’t look like I have been crying. Plus this distracts me from the Fire Down Below. I toss back several Advil and drink some water, gnaw on a protein bar and try to calm down.
I decide to go ahead and finish the scene, we have to be at least halfway done by now anyway right? I know that if I can’t or won’t continue the shoot, that fucks everyone, not just me. These girls, as well as myself, are being sorely underpaid for this shoot, especially for the amount of time we have all been here. And despite the fact that it really isn’t my fault the shoot is on hold I still feel bad since this little adventure has added at least an hour onto the day. If I can’t finish the scene and I walk away I doubt that JM Productions will give anyone – cast or crew – a kill fee. We will all have to reschedule the shoot and finish it on a different day. If I can just buck up and take one for the team we can hopefully get this thing shot and outta here at a somewhat decent hour (mind you, we started shooting sex around 6 pm and it’s well past 8pm at this point).
“Okay,” I tell Amber, Bobbi and Sammie, “This is gonna suck. It’s going to hurt and I am very swollen inside. But let’s get it done.” The four of us begin to devise a plan of action. First things first; Keeani is not allowed to fuck me anymore, no exceptions. I don’t know if she just doesn’t know what she’s doing or if she’s drunk or both but she was hurting me so let’s just keep her away from the dildos. The other two are okay. I am pretty sure Ami is drunk, too, but her skills seem to be better and Heather is fine. Nonetheless, now with my pussy and ass completely raw, angry and destroyed I only want my three girls fucking me. They know what I can take and I trust them. We march downstairs and pick the toys we are going to use, no exceptions there either. Just because I am hurting doesn’t mean I am wussing out though. We pick toys for pussy and ass, big ones. We choose some for double pussy penetration and for double anal. I hand Amber ‘Louis’, my favorite black monster dildo and tell her she is in charge of him and where he goes. After explaining this to Jim, we arrange everyone and get down to business.
We put Keeani on the couch where Bobbi was sitting before, Heather to her left and Ami on Keeani’s right. I am back down on my knees in front of the couch and am alternately sucking the strap-on cocks the girls are wearing while on the back-end of business Amber, Bobbi and Sammie are stuffing my pussy and ass full of cock of all different colors, shapes and sizes… big ones, one at a time, two at a time, three cocks in two holes. I am distracted by the job in front of me and am able to put the pain out of my mind, to turn it around in my head to make it a good pain… and its working. Sammie is fucking my swollen twat with a huge black strap-on and Amber and Sammie are filling my ass with god-knows which and how many toys… I feel so full of cock! I hear the girls as if in a dream telling me what to do and calling me names, I feel the sting of their hands on my ass and Amber scratching my back with her fingernails…
Suddenly the cocks are gone and I feel hands roughly pulling me around, pulling me up by my hair and pushing me back down on the couch, face up. My legs are forced apart and my eyes lock with Amber… she knows I am okay. I smile, even though I am not supposed to, remembering that I am supposed to be being sort-of gang-raped after all, that IS the scenario, and I remember to struggle and swear. Toys begin violating me again, the girls talkin’ shit and slapping my tits and my face. A dildo is thrust near my mouth and I try to wrap my lips around it. Whoever is wielding the phallus keeps face fucking me… or trying anyway.
“Open your mouth bitch,” I hear and do as I am told; only to have the dildo pushed into my eye. Hey it’s okay, I am struggling, there are girls and body parts everywhere, bumping into each other in a small space, it’s not surprising to have a near miss. “I said, open your mouth!” I do it again, and again I get poked with a dick in my eye. After the third time I risk being fucked in the eye socket to see who has such bad freakin’ aim…. to absolutely no surprise I see Keeani. She tries to get the rubber cock in my mouth a couple more times and continues to miss and get me in the eye, each time I tell her “stop.” Each time she repeats the attempt. Finally, my patience gone, I free a hand, block her phallic eyeball thrusting and yell loud enough to be heard over the din of girl rape, “Will someone please get this bitch away from me?!?” Jim stops rolling and laughs, saying he was watching her do it. Thanks Jim, I appreciate that. Keeani is apparently too drunk to understand why I stopped or why I pushed her away. As well as too drunk to find a mouth with a fake cock.
Jim calls action and Amber and Bobbi roll their eyes over the retardedness and dive back in. A hand covers my mouth and I feel cock pushing into my holes, and hands all over my body, groping, slapping… I hear filthy things being said and derogatory names being thrown my way. I feel my favorite huge back dildo ‘Louis’ sliding deep into my ass, spreading… stretching… filling… the girls shove two medium brightly colored toys in my pussy… I realize, to my complete amazement, that I don’t feel pain anymore, and that I am teetering on the edge of an orgasm. Yes, this is good… Out of the corner of my eye I see Keeani come into my field of vision and spit something on my pussy – I believe its water – it’s cold and I feel it running over and into my pussy; then it begins to burn. Really burn. And sting. What the fuck?!? My mind snaps to as I realize…
“Did you just fucking pour champagne on my pussy?!?” I ask Keeani incredulously.
God. This dumb twat just poured alcohol on my pussy, my raw, chafed and swollen pussy!
“No…”says Keeani drunkenly. “I just spit on it.”
Lie. She didn’t spit just a little saliva, she spit a mouthful of liquid… that’s why I thought it was water, there was so much of it. And it was cold. The stench of cheap Andre champagne wafts over me. Disgusting and nauseating. The girls pull the dildos out of me and step back. I put my hand on my pussy and bring it up to my nose.
“Uh, no. This is champagne!”
“Maybe there is a little champagne in it, I have been drinking champagne,” she says defiantly.
Oh my fucking god… the sting! I get up and I run to the bathroom for the second time that night, tears spilling down my cheeks. I can’t help but cry; the pain, the emotion, the near orgasm, overstimulation of the scene and being roughed up by six girls, the fact that we have been shooting for over 4 hours now… and my blood sugar has dropped… the frustration of the whole scene. ‘And now this!’ I think as a sob escapes me and I slam the bathroom door behind me.
A few minutes later and after lots of rinsing and baby wipes, Amber peeks in the door. I drag her inside and hug her like she is my favorite rag doll.
“Keanni is out there talkin’ shit,” Amber tells me. “She said this is the gayest shoot she has ever been on.”
That’s it. I open the bathroom door and head to the set to find Keanni.
I must have been quite the sight, storming onto the set, barefoot and naked, makeup streaked and smeared, my tangled red hair standing on end… I stomp onto the cheesy living room set where the girls and Jim are meandering around, Keeani over by the back edge of the couch in mid-sentence… she stops and stares at me. To my right Jim Powers turns to me with a surprised look as well. Keeani starts to slur something about being sorry and I cut her off, turning to Jim and fully playing that Star Card that I keep hidden in my diva sleeve.
“That’s it, Jim,” I say loudly and evenly. Then, pointing to Keeani, “I want her gone.” Jim starts to say something and Keeani launches into some name calling; I cut them both off and growl at Jim, “either she goes, or I do.” It’s a fucked up thing to pull, but I know damn well we can finish the scene without HER, but they certainly can’t finish it without ME.
The next few minutes flew by, blurred by my rage. Keeani launches into a defense of sorts, “…why? I said I was sorry…” followed by,”…I didn’t DO ANYTHING!”
“She didn’t MEAN to do it,” says Jim, “and she said she was sorry.”
Unbelievable. I am electric with anger, trying to keep my voice calm and not yell. “Oh, okay. So she didn’t MEAN to walk over and pick up the bottle of champagne; and she didn’t MEAN to take a big drink and then she, what? Maybe accidentally spit a mouthful of champagne onto my pussy?”
“Look,” said Jim Powers, hands outstretched and puppy dog eyes in full force, “It’s not a big deal, it was only champagne.”
“This stupid bitch” I said pointing at Keeani, “spit champagne – ALCOHOL – onto my raw pussy! I was already fucked up from the latex dildos and she spits alcohol onto it?! It fucking BURNS like a motherfucker! I want her the hell out of here!”
“What the fuck is wrong with you…”she starts yelling with a slur, walking toward me… I turn toward her and cut her off. Oh crap, I think to myself, I have lost it; so much for calm, cool and collected. “YOU should shut the fuck up!” I yell. “Do you think I didn’t fucking HEAR you saying that you ‘thought this was the gayest shoot’ you had ever been on?” Keeani stops dead in her tracks. Damn my fucking Irish temper. “Well, if it IS, Missy, it’s because of you, you stupid drunk cunt!”
At this point Keeani launches at me, yelling, swearing and drunk, but before she gets within 3 feet of me Crash the PA cuts her off, grabbing her and dragging her away, her arms flailing around his head as she fruitlessly tries to swing at me while screaming over Crash’s shoulder.
“You are nothing but an old has-been! If you can’t handle a shoot like this then you should have never taken this scene!”
I snap. There is no thinking, no hesitation, nothing. That’s it. One second I am angry, the next I am lunging at her, my fists up, ready to…
…suddenly Amber is there, she swoops in from my right side, grabs my fists and pushes me left, and away from Crash and Keeani. I glare at Amber and she says to me softly and firmly, “I know, I know. Believe me, I want to see you kick her ass too…but you can’t.” Amber pushes me back, away from the screaming and flailing Keeani.
I take a deep breath and the tears come, for the third time that night. Whenever I get really furious, after the anger peaks, I cry. I hate that about myself. I can’t believe I lost it like that. I have never, in all my years of being in the porn industry, EVER been driven to want to physically hurt anyone. Well… I’ve never been driven to act on the impulse, anyway…
Crash forces Keeani outside and my girls huddle around me, calming me and talking me down. Jim comes over and starts telling stories about other fights on his sets and soon we are all laughing. I gather myself together, redo my makeup and ask Jim how much more footage we need to wrap this up. “About 15 minutes” he tells us. What? We started shooting sex around 6pm and it’s now 11pm…and we still need 15 minutes? How on earth is that possible? He must be mistaken or lost track of time, or is too drunk to know how much he has shot….the girls and I glance at the pile of dildos we have already gone through and resign ourselves to just go bang it out. After two more brutal positions, Jim still wants more. I finally tell him it has to stop. My pussy and ass are swollen and in so much pain between the allergic reaction to the latex, the champagne and the hours of brutal fucking. All of us are exhausted, starving and tired. I fake an orgasm and we all throw in some ending dialogue to bring the story to a close. I apologize to each of my girls for losing my temper (though none of them blame me at all considering the situation), then in the good spirit of ‘keeping the peace’ I also apologize to Jim, Johnny and Crash as well. Quietly, we all pack up our stuff and go the hell home. Thankfully, it’s over.
The moral to the story, I think, is that porn stars are resilient. Perhaps more resilient than civilians are. Sometimes all they need to do is blow off steam and never put themselves in the same position again rather than let a bad experience hobble them.