Chapter 1

TODAY

It was hard to believe four and a half years had passed. It felt like ten. A lot of water had gone under the bridge. My life's path had taken an unexpected detour. I hadn't found my way back to the original freeway. I poured myself another drink. I think it was only the third so far today. I put in the DVD. That went almost back to the beginning of my detour.

It came up to speed. I watched the opening, mesmerized, even though I knew it by heart, as I knew every second of the next three hours. I watched the opening visual, the mountains, the moving image, coming in over Reno, the shot getting tighter, closing in on the new hotel, dissolving into a shot of the auditorium, closing in until the octagon filled the big screen. The arena and the octagon were empty, except for the king sized bed. Six feet by seven feet -- they call that a California King -- with a light blue pillow top mattress. The title superimposed on the screen, as the excited voice of a play by play style sportscaster read the title, drawing out the words until they took nearly twenty seconds to say:

"UNUSUAL SPORTS"

"PRESENTS"

"OCTAGON: STRIP AND SCREW"

The title dissolved, and the credits scrolled up the screen. The producer, the director, a few other names, followed by the stars.

GLORIA IRENE

And

ROY ROYAL

I'd been using Gloria Irene almost exclusively, ever since I began my detour through the seamy side of life. The voice over continued,

"CAN THIS MAN,"

With video of Roy walking down the aisle and into the Octagon,

"STRIP THIS WOMAN,"

"TOTALLY NAKED,"

As video of me walking down the opposite aisle and into the octagon played,

"AND SCREW HER"

"ON THIS BED,"

As the shot cut to the big blue bed,

"IN SIXTEEN MINUTES OR LESS,"

As the camera pulled away from the bed, panned over the auditorium, now filled with cheering spectators, up the wall, across the ceiling, and closed in on big red numerals over the bed reading 16:00.

TODAY

My name is Robyn. I'm a single gal. I'm single, never been married, with no children. I've had several relationships from a few weeks to almost six months, but I'm not quite ready to settle down to just one man yet. Any man who'd want me now is probably the wrong man.

Seven years ago, I became the youngest vice president of the largest land developer in the west. I'd done good work, and made the company a lot of money. I spent three years developing a classic property for my company. It had two new championship caliber golf courses and a little executive nine, with a world renown touring pro as the name behind the course. A high-end time-share resort complex surrounded the courses. It also had tennis, skeet, archery, and three lakes, fishing, boating, swimming, hiking, a gym and health spa. It was definitely upscale. It was 45 minutes away from great skiing, but the immediate area almost never got any snow. It seldom even got really cold there. A major national resort hotel contracted to rent the unsold units, and the sold units if the owners weren't using them. We expected some people to buy several units, and let the hotel rent them out. The big money we were anxious to see was from the sales of units, followed by the steady cash flow from management fees and services provided.

The publicity and promotion garnered a lot of attention in the trade press, the business press, the convention and vacation magazines, the newspaper travel and business sections, and even the sports sections. It was amazing. Most of that was my doing.

I orchestrated everything, from planning and zoning, through the bidding, permits and construction, the publicity and into the beginning of the sales phase. Some people in the office thought it was a bit too much, when I put myself into the publicity in a major way. There were more photos of me in the promotional material than everyone else combined. It didn't hurt that I was in spectacular shape, not so much from hard exercise as from good genes, a careful diet, a little running and light weights; and a lot of golf.

There were photos of me in the office, and walking the grounds in business attire. There were photos of me in slinky eveningwear, in the restaurant, at the bar, and dancing in the nightclub. There were photos of me on the golf course, including one pretty risqué one of me following through after a shot, with obvious nipples at high beam. There were photos of me in the newest skimpy tennis dress with spaghetti straps and nipples. There were photos of me by the pool in a tiny bikini, and tanning my back, with my bikini top straps untied, and several views of the sides of my breasts. I was shown in the gym, in skin tight lycra and spandex. I was shown on a massage table, and in the sauna, obviously naked under a towel, and in a hot tub, with the top of my breasts poking out of the water, with no obvious bikini top. I was featured in a video we showed on late night cable; it was somewhat sexier than in the print ads.

I'd been with the company for three years, when the executive vice president dropped dead. I expected a promotion up to his position. I began to worry when it remained vacant for a few months.

The timing couldn't have been worse. Just as we began to sell units, the economy went into the Dumpster, and interest rates spiked upwards. Not only was nothing selling, but the company couldn't get financing for the next projects in the pipeline. They had to cut back. I was one of the casualties.

My boss liked me, just not enough to keep me on the payroll with diminished cash flow. What he did was find a spot for me running the resort I'd developed, working for the single purpose entity formed to sell the units and manage the property. It didn't pay what I'd been making, but jobs were suddenly scarce. I took the job, rented my condo out, and moved up in the foothills. My six-figure salary was cut by more than half. At first, I assumed the reduction in my income was only temporary, and I didn't cut back much on lifestyle expenses. When I decided I had to, I found it was an incredibly difficult thing to do.

My deal allowed me to sell units too. I got a commission on my personal sales, an override on sales by my staff, and I got a bonus when 35% of the available units sold. There were other bonuses at later points. My commissions and overrides got deferred until bonus time, when I'd get both checks. It was a long struggle, but the first bonus point was approaching, probably in about sixty days. My bonus was going to be over fifty thousand dollars. My deferred commissions were over forty thousand dollars. When I got those checks, my total income since coming over to the resort would still be far less than I was earning before. The money was already spent.

I had burned through all my savings. My credit cards were maxed out. I had almost no food in the apartment. Most of my breakfasts and dinners, were macaroni or tortillas with cheap cheese and beans, unless the supermarket thirty miles away had something on special. Breakfast cereal was an occasional treat. Lunch was often donuts from the sales office. They had apples at the hotel registration desk. I had one each morning when I came in, another in mid afternoon, and I always took one home with me.

Hardly a day went by that I didn't get multiple phone calls from bill collectors. Some of my creditors were sending me two threatening letters a week. The last three months, I'd taken cash to the finance company the day before they told me they were coming to repossess my car. The only reason I wasn't bouncing checks was that I had overdraft protection on my checking account, but that was pushing the limit. I had changed my withholding to maximize my take home pay, and was going to owe IRS big bucks next April 15.

One morning, I received E-mail from my boss. His development company had borrowed almost all the cash from the company I worked for. I wasn't going to get my bonus and deferred commissions on schedule. I'd get it paid eventually, equally, over twenty-four months, starting "in a few months." They'd pay me interest on the money at the end.

I was angry. Even more than angry, I was fast approaching desperate. I was counting on that money to get out of the hole I was in. It would do that, and provide a cushion of a few months, if I was careful. I'd been trying to be careful for months now. I'd also been looking for jobs, and there weren't any worth more than mine, even without the bonus and commissions. To the extent that I could do it, I was even running personal expenses through the company, for items that should have been paid by me personally. Not very many -- and they weren't blatant expenses -- but in my heart, I knew they were questionable.

I was eleven days from payday. I was desperate for some cash. There was a man I'd met a couple of months ago, who was generous. Not big money, but he was good for a few hundred bucks after a mid week date. He had invited me for a weekend, with the promise of some money, but I had to spend the weekends in the sales office. He told me he had a friend I might like. I was seriously considering calling his friend.

Last week, I'd gone down to Shadypine, a town just off the Interstate, and won the amateur night contest. It was only two hundred bucks, but I needed it. The manager offered me a job dancing three nights a week. He said I could make big tips. I was so desperate I was considering it.

I saw the ad in an underground paper, which had been left in the lobby a few weeks before. "Wanted, attractive women in good condition, for experimental adult entertainment project, winner can earn over $10,000."

Adult entertainment sounded like porno, or hooking, but I was confused at the use of the word 'winner.' The company paid for my cell phone, and long distance was free. I was almost broke, so I made the call. They asked a lot of questions, but wouldn't tell me about the job over the phone. They said they'd call me back, if I qualified.

I didn't hear from them, and I'd forgotten about it when they called back. It was a one-week project, if I got it. They would pay for room and board for those selected. I had to go see them on Sunday afternoon. I'd be finished the following Sunday morning. It was less than two hours away, by car. I still had the two hundred bucks I won from dancing, and another hundred I had to get me through the week, so I took the chance, and left at 2:30 Sunday afternoon. Sunday morning saw no traffic through the sales office, so I didn't feel bad about leaving early. I took a small suitcase with me, just underwear and two changes of clothing. I had plenty of vacation and personal time off coming. I'd planned on not taking the vacation, and getting paid for it, but earning at least ten thousand dollars for a week was better than I was getting now, and I'd get my regular base pay on top of that. If I got the job, I'd phone and tell them I'd be off for a week. If I didn't get the job, I'd be back at work on Monday, and only poorer by a tank of gas.

I made good time, and pulled into the parking garage at the new hotel in Reno at 4:15. I had an hour and a quarter before my interview.

THE VIDEO

Ten minutes of video had played on the DVD. I saw the surveillance camera video of me driving into the garage, and walking to the elevator. The image of me in the elevator, checking my makeup in the mirrored walls always startled me. The surveillance video of me was better when I came out of the elevator. It showed me walking through the casino, sitting in the keno lounge without betting, then walking to the elevator, and following the directions to my interview. Brief pieces of similar events played before, of both men and women.

The video of my interview was studio quality. It only lasted five minutes on video. Shorter pieces of video of other people played before mine. I didn't know I was being filmed at the time. The woman on the video told me they had already selected six men, and five women. My interview was to be the last. If I was more interesting to them then the last woman on the bubble, I'd make it into the final six, otherwise she would. She asked a few questions about my health, physical activities, and sexual history. She seemed to like my answers. She told me one of the six men and one of the six women would participate in a contest before an audience, and for pay per view TV. She asked me to strip naked, so she could make sure I looked as good that way as I did dressed. I complied, and that was on the video too. The woman's goal was to keep away from the man for sixteen minutes. The man's goal was to strip the woman naked and screw her in sixteen minutes. The winner got fifteen thousand dollars. The loser got nothing.

I was fairly animated and active during the questioning, even during the questions about my sexual activities, but the look on my face was one of terror when she told me about getting stripped and screwed.

She asked me if I'd be interested. I said not if I didn't get anything if I lost. She said I'd get something.

WAITING FOR THE INTERVIEW

I sat in the keno lounge when I got inside the casino. I didn't have the money to waste gambling, and was so nervous I knew I couldn't concentrate on the keno numbers. Instead I obsessed on the state of my finances. I thought I might stand around the craps table later tonight, and see if a high roller wanted to adopt me as a good luck charm. I'd never actually had sex for money -- a straight commercial transaction -- before, but having dates with my generous friend came pretty close. It was a step I didn't want to take, but desperate situations can lead to desperate actions.

I got to the interview ten minutes early, and was immediately ushered in. It was a nice office; brightly lit, with big mirrors on two sides of the room. My interviewer's name was Barb. She was about my age, and spoke with a slight midwestern drawl. She was about 5-2, and slender, with a nice body. She was very friendly. She had me fill out a simplified employment application. Name, address, was I over 21, and a consent form for me to take a pre-employment physical.

When I gave her my application, I asked, "What can you tell me about this job?"

"Please just answer my questions for the next twenty or twenty-five minutes. Then I'll try to answer as many of your questions as I can."

Barb began by asking a few questions about my health, my job, and my hobbies. They were innocuous questions, and I answered them honestly. She was an easy woman to talk to.

The next set of questions was more sexual in nature. They were the kind of questions that are illegal to ask in a pre-employment context. However, the ad I was answering was for a job in an adult entertainment project. Before she was finished asking questions, she knew I was almost 29 years old, had lost my virginity at 15, and had about 25 sexual partners, not counting an unknown number of one night stands with men and women I'd never met before. She knew I considered myself straight, with some bi-curiosity, and aside from the one nighters, I'd experimented with six females, three of them alone, and three of them in FMF or larger groups. I told her I'd never had any STDs, was last tested about four months ago, I liked sex, with the right person, and that I was on depo for birth control. I wasn't particularly upset at answering her sexual questions.

"I'm sure you've guessed by now, this job is sexual in nature," Barb said. "Are you OK with that?"

"I need to know more, but I could be."

"Before we go on, I need you to strip, so I can make sure you don't have any unsightly scars or misshapen body parts."