Sunday, April 3, 2016

Celebrity (Part 8)

     Gayla's camera interview went swimmingly.  She was not shy with her body, took direction quickly and well, and kept a confident glowing smile on her face the entire time.  And she had gotten her Brazilian wax job done, too.  Me and Steve talked over scheduling and invited her back for her video interview on Wednesday morning.  She'd be working with Stallion.  After she had her clothes back on I let her in on the "joke": that there had never been any film in the camera, it was essentially just a prop so she'd have something to focus on and direct her energy towards.  She smiled as if she'd known it all along.

     That afternoon Small Steve was upstairs blocking a couple fuck scenes with some performers, including Bekka and Eddie.  I gave Eddie the courtesy of my absence so he could relax while he dry-humped my wife.  Office drudgery caught up with, I stepped out front to by the garage for a smoke and a soda.  Leaning against the garage door and puffing my Marlboro, I suddenly noticed a glimpse of motion down on the sidewalk.  Someone was approaching the driveway.
     Actually, two someones.  Two college-age girls who'd been taking their clothing cues from Becky Page slowly walked up the driveway.  They were incredibly unobservant: they didn't notice the ugly white guy leaning against the garage door.  They stopped at Bekka's Harley and stared.
     The first one said, "You think it's hers?  It's really cool looking."
     The second one replied, "I bet it is.  She's five eight, so she'd want a motorcycle that sits kinda low, like this one does.  And this thing is definitely custom."
     "Okay, we're here.  Now what?  Go to the front door?"
     "I dunno.  Maybe we could just wait here.  She's gotta come out sometime.  We don't want her to think we're barging in on her.  Besides, what if her husband answers the door?  He's supposed to be nuts, went crazy after being shot up."
     I said, "Oh, I've been insane for much longer than that."
     Both girls jumped and stared wild-eyed at me, jaws flapping.  To prove I wasn't a chauvinist I got my Beretta in my hand, then stood there with the gun hanging, pointed at the concrete.  They both eyed my right hand, watching for the tip of the gun to come up.
     "So let me guess," I leered.  "You got the address to the studio off the Becky Page BBS, you were feeling brave and had an open afternoon, so you thought you'd come up and see if you could score an autograph and a chin-wag with Becky Page.  Even though this meant doing things I have specifically requested people to not do.  Or didn't you see my warning post on the board?  When was the last time you logged on?"
     "Friday," said the second one.
     "Shut up, Jen," shot the first one.
     "Okay.  You didn't see my post.  To bring you up to speed, I requested that people not use the studio address posted on the BBS, as we have no time for visitors.  Plus we're paranoid about strangers showing up out of the blue, unannounced.  If you haven't guessed, I am Lenny Schneider, COO of Inana Productions, writer and producer of its features, and husband to the woman known as Becky Page.  I was hoping to take advantage of the rumors of my mental instability on the BBS, and have people too scared to show up and stalk or harass Becky, lest they run into me.  As it is, I have a gun in my hand, as promised.  My senses tell me I don't need to bother pointing it at you, just the fact that it's there is good enough.  So.  Answer me honestly, what did you want to achieve by coming here?"
     "We just wanted to, um...." started Jen.
     "We want to make porn!" said the first one.  "We want jobs.  That's why we're here."
     "Really," I said.  "It didn't occur to you to call and make an appointment?"
     "We didn't have your number."
     "The number for Inana is a hell of a lot easier to find than the street address of the studio.  For security reasons, we've tried to keep that address a secret as best we can.  You have no idea how pissed I was to find out it was posted on the BBS.  Both this place and me have been shot up in the past, so we're not keen on strangers lurking about.  Care to change your answer?"
     Jen started, "Okay, we wanted to see Becky...."
     ".... And see if she could get us jobs in porn!" blurted the first one.
     "Shut up, Brianna," said Jen.
     I faked a look of surprise and delight.  "Oh, so the two of you want to be porn stars?  As it happens, I'm the one who does the hiring around here.  Why don't we go in my office and talk?  Although you really should have made an appointment.  Come this way."
     I led them into the mansion and headed towards my office.  They stared around at their surroundings, taking it all in.  Brianna said, "Is that Becky's motorcycle out there?"
     "Yes it is," I answered.
     "So she's here today?"
     "Yeah.  She's up in the main sound stage right now, blocking out a fuck scene.  Right now she's probably being dry-humped by a Jew with a nine inch dick.  You don't mind guys with huge dicks, right?  You'd be dealing with a lot of them if you work for us.  But I'm sure you've seen our videos, you already knew that."
     I ushered them into my office, where they immediately began staring in terror at my Wendy O. Williams poster.  I gestured them to the sofa, where they sat down, looking supremely uncomfortable.
     I sat in my chair and stared at them in silence briefly.  Then I said, "So Jen, Brianna.  You want to work in the adult film industry.  Okay.  Take off your blouses."
     They both turned red and glanced at each other, then slowly began unbuttoning their blouses.  Brianna asked, "We can leave our bras on, right?"
     "For the time being," I replied.  I did more silent staring at the two.  "You both seem nervous."
     "No, I'm fine," said Jen, still red-faced.
     "Well, let's start with something simple.  Give me your IDs.  Age identification is a major issue in this business."
     They reached into their purses and handed over identification cards.  They were student IDs from SDSU for the spring semester.  I frowned at them.
     I said, "Do either of you have real ID?  These won't do at all.  I could make one of these in a half hour at the nearest Kinko's.  Being that you live in San Diego, I can't believe you don't have driver's licenses."
     I gave back the student IDs.  Reluctantly, they gave me their licenses.  I set them on the desk, grabbed a blank sheet of paper, and began copying down the information.  I stopped, looked at them, and said, "While I'm doing this, please remove your boots and socks."
     "Why?" asked Brianna.
     "So I can see your feet.  We're going to be making a series of foot fetish videos, and that's a good place for novices like you to start.  Toe-suckers want porn too, so we'll supply it."
     I only thought the two girls looked uncomfortable before.  Now they looked positively crushed.  Nonetheless, they bent over and began unlacing their Doc Martens.  I calmly continued copying down their driver's license information.
     Bekka chose that moment to walk into the office.  She grabbed my smokes, stuck a Marlboro in her mouth, and said, "Hey hon.  Who are these two?"
     "These are Jen and Brianna."
     "Why are they shirtless and shoeless?"
     The two girls stared in amazement at Bekka, who perched in my lap and stared back.  Bekka reached in my desk drawer and pulled out the bag of cocaine.  "Coke?" she offered.  They both nervously offered assent.
     I said, "They're barefoot and topless because they showed up unannounced and lied to me.  They tried to tell me that they're looking for work.  They just wanted to meet you.  I wanted to see how far they'd push their lie.  You got here too early, they still have their skirts on."
     Bekka grinned and glanced up from arranging lines on my desk.  "So why did you want to meet me?" she asked.
     "Well...." said Brianna.  "You're Becky Page!  You're amazing!  You're, like, the most powerful woman in the world!"
     Bekka pulled the tooter out of my pen jar and laughed.  "Oh, great," she said.  "Two more who are convinced that I'm some great oracle of feminine sexual power.  No, I'm a porn slut.  One who has had good roles written for her by her own husband.  My husband watches while other men fuck me in front of video cameras."  She gestured with the tooter.  "Here, you're guests, you two go first."
     The two hesitated, then Brianna got off the sofa and took the tooter.  She bent down and snorted up the line on the right.  She straightened up, her eyes getting big.  She tilted her head back and sniffed, then handed the tooter to Jen.  "Oh my god.  Jen, you have got to try this," she said.
     Jen stood up and elbowed Brianna out of the way.  She did up the line, breaking out in a smile ten seconds later.  "Wow, I've never felt coke like that before," she said.  "Where is that from?"
     "Columbia," I answered.  "I get it high off the supply chain, so it hasn't been cut all to hell.  It's not bad."
     Brianna said, "Um, can we put our shoes back on?"
     Bekka answered, "Sure, but leave your shirts off.  You both have nice racks.  You don't mind me admiring them, do you?"
     Brianna said, "Not at all!" She reached behind herself, unhooked her bra, and removed it.  "Becky Page likes my tits, this is too cool!"
     Not to be outdone, Jen removed her own bra.  "Mine are better," she announced.  "See?  I'm perkier."
     "Fuck you, girl," said Brianna.  "Mine are nice and full.  Something to hold on to.  They don't compare.  I've got better nipples, too."
     Jen said, "No way.  Mine get nice and long, and hard as rock.  I've got better nipples than you."'
     "What do you think, hon?" Bekka asked me.
     "I refuse to take a position," I said.  "They both have their high points."
     "Anything new on the board?"
     I nodded.  "Yeah.  People still think I'm a dick for discouraging visitors here, and that guy Syko posted the information for his block party.  Saturday the 29th, street gets closed at eleven, it's an address in La Mesa.  He promises to supply beer, soda, and chips, and will have a few barbecues set up so people can bring their own meat and cook up.  He's even renting San-O-Lets.  He's planning on quite the shindig.  People should bring food to share.  I figured we'd just buy a gallon of antipasto from the Leucadia deli, if we go.  Are we going to?"
     "You totally should!" said Brianna.
     "Yeah!" chimed in Jen.
     Bekka considered.  "Well....  It will make a nice break from shooting.  Should we RSVP?"
     "Have you posted to the board at all?" asked Jen.
     "Lenny has, I haven't."
     "Do it," said Brianna.  "You'll totally blow people away if you show up on the board."
     Frowning, Bekka said, "Will people even believe it's me?  They didn't believe Lenny when he began posting.  Won't people think I'm just some jerk pulling a prank?"
     Jen said, "The board logs the number you dialed in on.  Your posts will have the same number as Lenny's.  Anyone who's curious can cross-check the prefix and at least see that your number is in La Costa.  Do you also use that line as a voice line?"
     I said, "Yeah, it's a back line that rings here in my office and also up in the living quarters on the third floor.  It barely gets used, it's always been a private line, but I still keep the phone plugged into it.  We've got five lines coming into this place: this private line, three voice lines, and a fax line.  All my posts would be logged showing the number to this back line."
     Brianna, being helpful, said, "Me and Jen will post from the library when we get back to campus and back you up, saying we watched you make the post."
     "And I'll explain in my post how you got in the building," said Bekka.  "We may be generous with our cocaine, but we're still not thrilled with your presence.  You got in here because Lenny wanted to teach you a lesson.  And you will never return.  Am I clear?  Hon, let me use your chair, I need to do some writing."
     Bekka took my seat and I stood behind her, watching her type.  Jen and Brianna sat silently on the edge of the sofa, listening to the keys go clackety-clack.  First she responded to Syko's post, writing, "This is Becky.  Syko, I will be at your party.  I'll bring a couple gallons of good Italian antipasto and a fresh Sharpie for signing autographs.  Looking forward to meeting you.  Kisses, Becky."  Her reply joined about seventy others, most of which were also stating they'd stop by.
     She frowned and started a fresh post.  The header read simply, "This Is Becky."  She continued on with the body of the post:
     "Hello everybody!  I'm flattered the sysop created this board, and that you all spend time on it.  Most porn sluts don't get this sort of attention, and I wonder a lot of the time why I do.  But thank you all for being fans of a walking blowjob named Becky Page.
     "I'm sitting across from Jen and Brianna, to SDSU students who tried to con their way past Lenny.  He saw through their charade and humiliated them into telling the truth.  Lenny has mentioned that we do not want visitors here at the studios, and he's not kidding.  We dealt with a borderline stalker named Burt on Saturday, who seemed very surprised when Lenny and I pointed our pistols at him.  That's what happens when you're TRESPASSING in our back yard.  We kicked him loose without an arrest, but with a warning to never return.  Lenny and I can't make it clear enough, we do not want visitors.  Jen and Brianna have learned their lessons, and will be allowed to put their clothes back on shortly.
     "In happier news -- I will be attending Syko's block party in a few weeks.  Listen for the motorcycles, that will be me, Lenny, and our friend Jane arriving, bearing antipasto.  I'll be happy to sign anything you wish, so long as I'm not in the act of eating when you ask.
     "For those of you who think this is a prank post, I'll answer your questions ahead of time: legal name, Bekka Schneider.  Maiden name, Bekka Vivian Luchessi.  5'8", 128 lbs., and it's my natural hair color.  36-24-34.  Plastic surgery-corrected scarring under my right breast, from where I was stabbed.  I smoke Benson & Hedges Deluxe, drink Johnnie Walker (a weakness I picked up from Lenny), and prefer Tecaté beer.  Eight years in the industry, all with Inana Productions, except for four loops I did for a now-defunct LA company called Bliss Studios.  (I don't have copies either.)  Any other information you want to know, you'll have to ask at Syko's party.
     "XXX  Kisses, Becky Page"
     Bekka sighed and said, "What do you think?"
     "Can we see?" asked Jen.
     "Sure, why not," said Bekka, rolling the chair sideways so the two girls could scoot in.  They bent down and read the post before Bekka submitted it.
     The two girls were just straightening back up when Eddie's voice said from the doorway, "Hey boss, I don't suppose I could--- oh, am I interrupting something?"
     Jen and Brianna squealed and folded their arms across their chests.  Bekka rolled her eyes and said, "So you wanted to work in porn, did you?  Just be glad Lenny didn't convince you to strip all the way down.  No such thing as being body-conscious in this industry."
     Eddie scowled and said, "So what is this, a game of 'hide the tits from the Jew'?  No fair."
     I laughed and said, "Hey Eddie, this is Jen and Brianna.  They're a couple trespassers I found outside.  I know, why don't you play your favorite game, 'shock the novice.'"
     Eddie gave me an evil grin and said, "Should I?  Give me a few seconds."  He sighed, stared up at the ceiling, then smiled again and unzipped his fly, pulling out nine inches of mostly hard dick.  The two girls were too shocked to even squeak, they stood there and stared at it.
     Brianna suddenly said, "Now I recognize you.  You played the sleazy con artist in 'Dangerous Desires.'  Oh my god, Becky, I just realized what you had to deal with.  Wasn't....  How did....  God, didn't it hurt?"
     Laughing, Bekka said, "Hey, we all suffer for our art."
     I pointed and said, "And that, girls, is what you were telling me you wanted to sign up for.  Aren't you glad you stopped lying to me and admitted that you were just here to see Becky?  Why don't you put your tops on now?  Reel it in, Eddie."
     "Aw, but it wants to make new friends," Eddie leered.
     "Maybe the next set of trespassers," I comforted.

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