Chapter 8: Seeing

It's amazing how time flies when you're busy. My career had never been better. I think I finally understood how medical residents feel straight out of school when they're asked to work eighty hours a week. If I wasn't running errands, eating, or sleeping, I was working. The FHM magazine eventually hit the stands, and Damien said his phone hadn't stopped ringing since. Even I had to admit, the FHM cover was amazing and took my portfolio to a whole new level. Maxim wanted to book me for a few inside gigs, Penthouse offered me money, but the most exciting thing was a spot in a Trident commercial.

Damien wasn't calling me over as often to his apartment, maybe twice every three weeks. However, the sessions were more grueling and always took me at least two days to recover both physically and mentally. My energy was always down. I was using coke as many times as Damien would let me: three times a month, no more, no less, usually on an extra-important shoot. Every time Trudy saw me she asked me if I was losing weight. The truth was that I had dropped pounds. In my business, that usually wasn't a bad thing, but I also couldn't have all my ribs showing or my eyes looking sunk in.

Once, in the middle of a shoot with a really hot guy named Esteban, I blacked out and he caught me before I hit the floor. James was my photographer at the shoot, and tried to made me quit early, but I refused to leave the set. We finally struck a compromise and he had me drink two cups of sports drink. James tried to corner me after the shoot, but I got away from him to avoid answering awkward questions. When I got home, I hit the bed and slept for twelve hours. After that day, I started taking caffeine pills before and during sessions with the camera.

Looking back, this was a terrible idea. It threw off my sleep pattern, drove away my appetite, and wrecked me emotionally. I may as well have started smoking, something I promised my uncle, a physician, that I would never do. Within weeks, I was carrying in my purse a bottle of No Doze, Excedrin, and a can of liquid caffeine almost everywhere I went ... and even then it seemed I barely managed to get through my days.

Adrienne, at one point, tried to get me to open up, but for some reason I'd withdrawn into my own little cave of isolation. I was making my career happen, I was dazzling the photographers, but I wasn't happy. Neither was Margaret. Her work wasn't steady, a lot like I'd been when I first began. She was often at the apartment, which in some ways was great, because she cleaned when she got bored, but I hated coming home and seeing her with a big frown on her face. She and I had taken to fooling around if we both had the energy, but I had to save almost all that for Damien. Margaret's newfound enthusiasm still led her to offer to eat me out once or twice a week, just so she could get some practice, and I didn't mind. Then we'd often kiss and talk while she brought herself to climax a couple of times. I encouraged her to avoid starting a career in porn, and she finally backed out of her agreement the day before the film shot. Not knowing what to do, I suggested she take a couple of nighttime art classes at the nearest community college in downtown San Francisco.

Her parents were more than willing to spot her the cash, and so that gave her something to do when she didn't have work. She was really the only bright spot in my life during that point. Adrienne was around less so she could focus on finals, my parents were off vacationing in Europe, and when Margaret was gone, all I really had to look forward to was Damien. His sex sessions had certainly done what he'd promised. They'd filled me with an awakening of my sexual being that was easy to tap into during my work. He'd reminded me that my true sexual nature was being a submissive and allowing other men and women to use me like a disposable fucktoy, a cumdumpster, if you will. Every time I went over there he had two other men with him, one time there was even a fourth, and I was never done until all the men were satisfied. The interesting thing was, however, as exhausting as these sessions in his penthouse were, I always had my best shoots the next day.

So I never stopped until something changed.

I got home on a Saturday night. I'd had an amazing day of work where we'd done some underwater work for a Caribbean cruise line. Me and a guy named Chad Benne (huge muscles, a perk of my line of work) basically had to make out underwater in different poses until our special water photographer was happy with the shots. The tricky part was making sure we didn't get too many bubbles in the frame.

Margaret had made a vegan lasagna (not a perk in my line of work) and was going on and on about how much she had fallen in love with sculpting, even showing some of her initial designs for a sculpture she was planning to do of a rose. I listened and tried to pretend that I enjoyed the lasagna. Normally Margaret's cooking is fine, I just don't think anyone can make a good vegan lasagna. That's when I got the call that changed my life.

It was Damien.

"Hey," I said when I picked it up. It was automatic, every time he called a big fucking grin grew all over my face. He was my love cocaine, and I was an addict.

"Hey hot stuff," his voice rang in my ear. "What have you got planned for tonight?"

"Hmm." I said it in a teasing way, stretching it out so I could hear his voice even longer. "Lots of things. Do my hair, paint my nails, take a looooong bath with bubbles."

"And after that?"

"I don't know..." I replied in mock confusion. "Maybe pway with my wittle clitty and faw asweep."

Damien bellowed at a laugh at my little girl voice. "Wow, that was so hot. Why don't you come over to my place tonight and show my and some friends a great time."

Everything sounded perfect except "some friends." That was the first time he'd ever-- in all his calls-- brought up more people than himself. Despite the fact that he and I had never ever (not even once) had one on one sex since he'd become my agent, I'd never lost hope that someday he'd just take me and fuck me like he used to: just me and him.

"Uh, yeah, what time?" I asked. My voice had changed and he noticed it.

"Something wrong?"

"No. No, nothing's wrong. My roommate just gave me a funny look, that's all." In response, Margaret actually did shoot me a funny look, crossing her eyes and sticking out her tongue. I had to cover my mouth so I didn't choke into the phone.

"Okay, be here at 9PM."

I told him I'd be there, and we hung up. I thoughtfully stirred the food on my plate, my appetite having completely vanished. Margaret watched me as she chewed her own meal.

"Not the best lasagna, is it?"

I smiled and shook my head. "That's okay. It's healthy."

"What happens in these mystery visits you do every so often?" she asked. "Where do you go? You come home a mess-- barely breathing it seems. Are you having some romantic affair with a married guy? Because I'm almost positive you're having sex."

I didn't answer her right away. Did I want to tell her I was having sex with multiple men? No. Especially after talking her out of doing porn. "I'll tell you some day, but not now."

Margaret must have decided she'd asked enough questions and began clearing up, so I helped. The evening crawled by. It was the same old thing. The tired part of me dreaded it, the rest of me wanted it, then I dreaded it more, and by the time 9PM rolled around, I could barely wait. The darkest part of me always awakened as the sun fell, and I was horny and ready to go. I popped a couple of caffeine pills and headed out the door, telling Margaret not to wait up for me.

When I got to Damien's place, I knew something was different. It was just something in the air that I couldn't quite identify. Even now I can't really describe it, I guess the closest word would be "wildness." There was something wild, a scent, an emotion, I just don't know exactly what. But as I pushed open his door, I knew things were going to be different today. That extra sense hit me and my body began tingling with anticipation. After a few visits to Damien's place, I'd figured out some things. One: I knew they could see better in the dark than I could, and I eventually figured out that they were using special eye drops. A relatively cheap solution to the problem. Two: I'd realized that the blinking red light meant Damien was filming me, but I didn't really care. I trusted him as my manager and my friend. Three: I'd eventually figured out one of the people who was almost always with us. It was his actor friend, Ryan Spader.