Chapter 5

Well, first of all, I made her get dressed. If she’d have worn just that white shirt of mine and nothing else for the rest of the day, I think I may have ended up having a heart attack from over-exertion. The problem, of course, was that the sartorial choice she made from her wardrobe was hardly conservative. Short tartan skirt, black knee-high socks and low cut white top—pretty much what you’d expect from a porn star if I’m honest. Still, at least her pussy wasn’t constantly on view.

I considered taking her out to lunch—to celebrate our reconciliation if that’s what you want to call it. But as soon as I saw her outfit I knew that was out of the question. Anyone that knew me, but didn’t know Dom, might well have thought I’d hired an escort or something if they saw us out together. So I fetched us a McDonald’s from the local drive-thru and we ate at the kitchen dining table just like we had with the pizza the night before.

And just like the night before, we talked. Only her side of the conversation was laced with much more innuendo this time around.

But there was something I wanted to know. Something I needed to know.

“Dom,” I asked, putting my Big Mac down and resting my chin on my hands. “Last night, when you were telling me how you ended up in this ... er... industry. We got interrupted. First by your Mom—”

“And then by the pizza!”

I nodded. “And then by the pizza. And then ... Look, the point is, you never finished the story. You never said how you went from doing bikini and underwear shoots to ... you know.”

“Pornos. It’s okay. You can say it, I won’t be offended. I’m a porn star. I make porn films. Fuck flicks. Hardcore smut.”

“Yes, yes. Okay. You might not be embarrassed, but—”

“Who says I’m not embarrassed? I mean, I’m not about to tell Mom or Gran about it, am I? And it’s not the sort of thing I’d put on my C.V. if I was applying for a proper job, you know. Star of over fifty hardcore pornographic movies.”

“Over fifty? Last night you said twenty.”

She shrugged. “I told you last night, I don’t know. I haven’t exactly kept count. And I know that sometimes I do one shoot and they make more than one video out of it. So I really don’t know how many there are out there.”

I shook my head. “Okay, whatever. So how did you make the move into hardcore fuck flicks?” I grinned at her and she grinned back. “How old were you for a start? Did they at least wait until you were eighteen?”

She huffed and rolled her eyes. “Of course they did. They made a bit of a big deal of it actually. The first one I did, they had me hold up my driving licence to the camera. They blurred out all the personal stuff apart from my photo, which is awful but those photos always are, and my date of birth.”

“Okay, that’s a relief. I suppose. At least they saw sense to wait until it was legal for you to do these kinds of films.”

“Well, duh! Believe it or not, it’s actually a pretty professional outfit. The shoots are not sleazy or anything like that. The producer, Jim, is a great guy. He looks after his girls, makes sure we’re all happy. He makes us take regular health checks, you know, for STDs and stuff. He’s a good guy. I don’t think some of the distributors he works with or some of his investors are quite as nice—these are the same people Dad owed money to, remember? But Jim’s all right.”

“If you say so. But you still haven’t—”

“There’s no big secret to it. I was nearly sixteen when Dad first introduced me to Jim. It was about a year later that I moved from the fully clothed shoots to the bikinis and underwear. By then there were always other girls hanging around and I got friendly with a couple of them. One in particular, Melanie, I became really good friends with and she clued me in one night when we went back to her place after a night out.

“And before you ask, yes, we had sex.” She rolled her eyes again. “All porn stars are bi-sexual and we all have sex with each other at every opportunity.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“But you were thinking it. I could see it in your eyes.” She grinned. “Anyway, she told me that as well as the stuff I was doing for Jim, which was mostly for online retailers’ websites but also ended up on fashion blogs and stuff, he was involved with more what she called adult stuff. I asked what she meant and she said that he shot for online retailers who sold kinky underwear and shit like that, but also did everything from topless photo-sets that he sold on his own websites, to fully naked photo-sets and masturbation stuff—you know, with dildos and stuff. He did photos and videos of that. And when I asked her she admitted he did full-on hardcore stuff too.” She shrugged. “She said I could do as little or as much as I wanted. That Jim wouldn’t pressure me to do anything I didn’t feel comfortable with. If I wanted to just carry on doing fashion shoots, then that would be fine, he had a couple of girls, and guys, that only did that. But ... The more I was prepared to do, the more I’d get paid.”

I nodded. “So no-one pressured you into anything? You’re sure about that? It’s one thing to say they’re not going to pressure you, but then these people have ways of applying pressure and manipulating you that you probably wouldn’t even recognise.”

“Well, no-one ever threatened me. They never said, you’ve got to do this or else or anything like that. But they never really had to. You know the sort of people I was hanging around with by then. I wasn’t exactly a virgin and, honestly, I liked sex. So I figured if I could get paid for doing it, why the hell not, you know?