In the Movies (MF, Exhib)

It's a rock... in a stream. I'm looking right at the fucking painting. I see the rock. I see the stream. What I don't fucking see is a fucking metaphor for women's struggle against social inequity in 1880 France. It's a fucking rock in a stream.

My struggle in art appreciation is itself a representation of my first year of college. How do you study for a class that tries to tell you to 'see' the meaning behind a fucking rock in a stream? I'm Kelly and at 19 years old, am trying to figure out how the heck I'm going to continue beyond my first year of college.

Don't get me wrong I want to go on, but after coming to school on a partial scholarship it has been nothing but a struggle. The scholarship was nice, but what it didn't pay for was more than what it did. Rent, food, books, fees, and supplies were all uncovered. My parents sent me a small allowance to help fill the gap, but mostly I worked various jobs around campus, but this cut into my study time and so my grades suffered, which as the semester drew to a close put my scholarship at risk. So, I had quit my last job to focus on grades and spent next month's allowance from my parents on food.

As I had opened my mail my rosy situation got even better as I saw a notice about my overdue school charges and an increase in my room rent starting next month. Shit.

I was in a fucking mess. How was I going to pay fees, increased rent, and regular living expenses, while maintaining my grades? My parents did not have any more to send, especially now with Mom out of work. Again shit.

"Can you feel how the artist has made the rock appear to be on the verge of being overrun by the water? Every moment could be the last breath for this tiny stone surrounded on all sides by the relentless rush of society?" Professor Smith was saying as my mind snapped back to the present "Now for tonight's homework I want you to see something differently. Go and live differently!"

The last was drowned out in the rustle of bags and books and shifting of bodies as the small class ended and everyone, myself included, headed for the door.

Art appreciation was a required core class, but I have never been a deep thinker nor a rebel, so for me it was a constant frustration, besides it did nothing to get me any closer to solving my current financial problem. Outside the classroom there was however an announcement bulletin board, upon which various notices, requests, and other announcements were posted.

Pausing after class I one again scanned the cluttered board. This was frustrating as I had to scan and sift through the various old job listing, requests for a variety of study buddies, and of course the assorted furniture, textbooks, and cars for sale. There was nothing new. Shit still.

Turning away I almost bumped in a guy who smiled, and said, "Hey beautiful, need money check this out," and handed me a flyer before walking off.

The flyer was a photocopied sheet of paper which read:

Having money problems?

Need cash desperately?

Immediate opportunity for:

* Future adult movie stars

* Tremendous pay potential

* Privacy and safety guaranteed

Still not sure? Cash paid for just an interview, with no obligation beyond the initial interview.

Call xxx-xxx-xxxx to set up an anonymous appointment.

What the hell, who would ever call that number? Looking again at the sheet I crumpled it up and was about to throw it in the trash, when Professor Smith walked out of the classroom and almost into me. "Oh, I'm sorry" The small wiry haired professor said as she looked up sharply at me. " Kelly isn't it?"

Quickly slipping the wad of paper into a pocket I smiled and answered, "Yes ma'am, Art109".

Smiling the professor walked on reminding me "to live differently! "before disappearing down the hall.

Thinking again about that flyer I of course thought about sex. Like anyone I liked the sex. I had had up until now, but I was no professional or even a seriously experienced amateur. Being plain I had never captured the boys' attention. At 5'7" and 130 pounds I was of a generally average size. I was blond, which allowed me a little notice, but I cut a decidedly normal figure. Having played softball for a few years in junior high I had stood out for not standing out. My bust was there, but not large and my hips had curve, but just enough to tell anyone interested I was indeed a girl. I had only dated four very sexually inexperienced boys and never been a big party scene girl. All of which meant that while I might not be a virgin, I was not very experienced.

I had been dating since I was 16 and never was attracted to or sought by the suave and sexually experienced boys. I had eventually decided that women who found a good sexual partner, must just have an abundance of good luck. My luck rarely ran in that direction.

My first boyfriend was Billy, who was also 16 and I met during the summer of my sophomore year. He worked at the local pizza place with me. We went out a few times after work and he was nice enough, but just not my type. We lasted through the summer and into the start of my junior year, but I dumped him fast when I discovered he was bragging about me as his summer sexual conquest. That made me so made, as all we had stumbled through were a couple awkward hand jobs and one amazingly fast blowjob. The threat of revealing his speed and lack of equipment worked to kill any attempted post-break up sabotage. Strike one.

Tom followed during the spring of my junior year. He was my prom date for junior prom. We actually went on a couple dates before the prom, during which we engaged in some heavy petting, including a trip to third base, and a couple of blowjobs, which he lustily enjoyed. However, I knew he was not going to work out long term, when he refused to give me oral sex after the first time, claiming he was "just not into that." But I kept him since I really needed a date to prom. After the prom we took a limo to a local hotel room, both provided by his parents, and I had my first actual sexual experience. It was a night I have tried to forget, but it did lose me my virginity and apparently my second boyfriend. It seemed he had only wanted a trophy and the next day had dumped me for Wendy Wilson, daughter of the mayor and queen of the easy girls. It was never going to last. Strike two.

Boyfriend number three was Will, who a 24 was the oldest guy I ever dated. During the summer before my senior year I met him at a local coffee shop. He was so not a high school boy, that I fell instantly in love. His hair was long and often in a ponytail. He tended to wear torn-up jeans, t-shirts, and worn out sandals everywhere. My parents hated him instantly, so he was perfect. We dated all summer. I took every chance to hang out with him, as we drove around often in his yellow Ford Escort. Many a dark trip back to my house would involve a detour to a deserted road or parking lot. There we fooled around, with most nights ending with one or both of us partially naked in the back seat. He loved cumming in my mouth, but initially refused to return the oral sex. I resolved this by threatening to stop unless he reciprocated, which he reluctantly did giving little enjoyment on either side. I began to wonder about the whole oral sex thing with guys... what gives? The problem was solved however, when after an evening of smoking weed we had sex. The next couple of weeks found us half naked in the back seat of his car every night, but he only did missionary, which was painfully awkward in such a tiny back seat, but we managed as he never lasted very long. I ended it with him just before school started when I caught him fucking Sally Jones, he had forgotten he was meeting me that night. Strike three.

Steve was my last boyfriend. He and I had dated all the way through my senior year. He was my age and just a wonderfully sweet and caring guy. My parents loved him and still ask how he is doing. Sexually he was my best experience. We were inseparable until about four months ago, when he decided that he was gay. That kind of put a crimp in the whole dating thing, but I still consider him a friend. The sex with Steve had been okay. He enjoyed getting oral sex and tried hard to give back a version of oral sex. Maybe I should have known his preferences at that point, since he seemed clueless about my female anatomy and how to manipulate it properly. We had good sex, even if unimaginative. I had begun thinking other possible sexual positions after my time with Will, but Steve only wanted to have sex in a missionary position. No matter how I tried or positioned myself, we always ended up with me on my back, legs spread. He did have endurance on his side however and was even able to cum once recharge and cum again during sex. This was more of a foul than a strike, if I am still using softball metaphors.

During those years I did master one thing... masturbation. I had never managed to reach an orgasm during any of the boys' ministrations or during sex, so I learned to pleasure myself to reach an orgasm. That had been my constant relief during the past four months. I now relied exclusively on my five trusty friends to bring me whatever sexual relief I needed.

As I arrived back in my one-bedroom apartment I started to unload my stuff. As I dumped my keys and phone on the table, I noticed a waded-up piece of paper that had been in my pocket. The flyer. Flattening it out again I looked at it more closely.

Sex is not a big hang up with me. I had done it and it was a great way to be close with someone or to let off a little stress. But sex with a stranger, on camera, and for money was something way different, and something I had never even considered ever doing... that I was not ready to consider even now, I quickly added, putting the notice aside and pulling out my books. I had to get through this semester first.

Several weeks into the new semester I was sitting at home staring at the pile of notices in front of me. In the weeks since the end of last term I had used up every penny I had paying some of the fees and now had nothing left for the rent, which was already late. I was falling farther behind with each day of the new semester. Every job on the notice board had been filled and every source of extra cash had been tapped, and I was still way behind on my bills.

It didn't help that my grades had suffered during this time as well. I had managed to finish last term with a enough of a GPA to keep my scholarship, but now as I got more stressed I studied less, and as I studied less my grades fell. Finally, as my grades fell, I got even more depressed about the mounting pile of bills. The cycle was relentless. I was even eating less and less, since I had no money, having gone to the local food pantry for a handout. It was hopeless.

"AAARRRGGH!" I screamed and pushed everything from my counter on to the floor in a cascading avalanche of pens, paper, and books, then dropped my head to the newly cleared counter. Shit, shit, shit.

Lifting my head, I noticed a crumpled piece of paper sitting beside me. It was the flyer I had been given weeks ago. Eyes widening at the thought and refusing to even think I picked up my phone and dialed the number.

After a couple of rings a man's voice answered "Sea, Sun, and Snow Productions. This is Bill."

"I'm calling about the flyer?" I say quietly.

There was a pause on the other end, then he said "Ah yes. Well that is wonderful. My name is William Sharp, but my friends all call me Bill. I run the production company. Now normally I would ask your name, but I think we are better off without that added stress. So how about I call you Helen?"

I answer softly, but with rising strength "Okay. I like that. Thanks Bill."

"So, would you like some more information, or would you rather just come by for an interview Helen?" Bill asked.

"Um how much does the interview pay and what do I have to do?" I asked feeling more comfortable in this pseudo-anonymity.

"$500 cash and you don't have to do or commit to anything. I just want a chance to meet you and explain the opportunity. After that we can see what higher paying opportunities there might be for you or you can just leave and take the $500, no strings attached. Would you like to set up an appointment Helen?" Bill answered.

Without taking a moment to change my mind I agree to meet. "Great!" Bill replies "Let's get things set up. When are you available to meet?"

In a few minutes schedules were compared and a meeting for tomorrow at 6pm at his office was set. His office was a few miles away but should be within an easy drive of my apartment. Once that was completed Bill asked if he could get some general information about me, nothing identifiable, just a physical description. So, I give him my basic particulars: average height, average weight, brown eyes, and long straight blond hair. The call ended with an agreement to meet tomorrow.

Sleeping was a struggle. What the hell I am doing? Every instinct in my fine middle-class head is screaming that this is a bad idea, but I focus on the $500. I have class all day and the $500 remains my focus as I sit through one boring lecture after another. That $500 will pay part of my rent, maybe enough to keep me living there.

After class when I finally get back to my apartment it's 3pm. Looking at myself in the mirror I look like a college student. Sweatshirt on over a t-shirt, faded jeans, that are probably a little baggy around the knees, and a pair of worn tennis shoes. My hair is pulled back in a ponytail and my makeup is in the early morning minimal preferred by non-sorority girls everywhere. I need to get cleaned up and change.

The next hour is spent showering, shaving, plucking, pruning, and fixing me and my hair. Makeup takes another half hour and then I begin the search for clothes. My wardrobe is filled with sweatshirts, t-shirts, and a few pairs of jeans. Shit.

At 5:55 I arrive at the plain brick office building in an area filled with identical such buildings. The buildings around it are labeled as roofing, flooring, carpeting, and other types of office/warehouse businesses. My building has "Sea, Sun, and Snow Video Productions" in lettering across the top of the door, but no other signage. Opening the door a tall man in a pair of cargo pants and a polo shirt meets me in a small lobby area.

"Helen?" the voice from the phone says "I'm Bill Sharp. A pleasure to meet you." extending a hand to shake mine.

"Hi." I reply taking his hand. It is warm and firm, but not rough. Bill is older, maybe in his 40's and around 6', with a slight gut. His smile is friendly.

"I'm so glad you showed up. You would not believe the number of appointments that just never show up." Bill explained.

"I bet." I replied "but I could really use the money."

"Oh right. Sorry about that." Bill explained and then walking over to the desk he pulled out an envelope and handed it to me. "Here you go all $500. Now you can stay, and we can talk or you are free to go. Your choice."

"Really?" I say as I look at the five crisp new $100 dollar bills in the envelop and I am tempted to just turn and leave, but I stay. "I'd like to know more."

"Wonderful. Welcome to our production studio." Bill says then adds carefully "Do you know what we produce here?"

Actually, smiling at his hesitation, I answer "I'm guessing porn?"

Then with a smile he turns to begin the tour.

Beyond the front lobby/reception area there is a locked door that leads into another office area with a hallway that has a series of doors on either side leading far into the building. Walking down we pass a few open offices on either side, before reaching the first of a series of closed doors. Opening the first door, Bill shows an office setup. It looks like a standard lawyer or professional office with a large wooden desk, chairs, file cabinets, and bookshelves covered in various materials. It actually looks much more professional and business like than the ones we had just passed in the hallway.

Closing that door, he opens the next one, which is set up like a doctor's examining room. There are a series of vital sign monitors and a full size hospital bed. The walls are even painted that putrid pale green, so popular in hospitals.

Each door reveals a new place. There is a school classroom, three different living room and bedroom setups, a bathroom, a garage, with a cutaway car inside, two kitchen setups, and a few other more generic setups.

"We're also constructing a porch setup with a hot tub, that one should be done by this weekend." Bill says as he opens another door, which is filled with lumber and tarps. "But we are having some design issues, so hard to say."

Further down the hallway he takes me into a backstage area, where costumes and makeup stands are setup, along with partitioned areas for changing, and several bathrooms with showers.

In the last room he shows me, there are racks filled with cameras and other electronic equipment. "This is the storage room for our camera's and the other magic machines we use here." Bill said as he pointed to the carefully organized racks, then we exit through a back door into the first 'real' office that we passed on the tour.

Sitting down on the couch and motioning the seat next to him Bill sits down. I follow and turn slightly to look at him. "Okay so you have your money and could have left, but you didn't... why?" Bill asks seriously.

I sit and think for a moment looking at the wall beside us, before answering, "I really need the money."

"You know we make pornographic movies here and that what you will be doing is acting in them, mostly naked." Bill asks and I nod. "and you are still interested?" and I nod again.

A moment passes as Bill looks at me then he pulls out his wallet and takes out another $500 dollars. "Here, take this. No strings attached." Reaching out I take the money.

"Why?" I ask as I tuck the bills into the envelope.

"Helen I like you. I like the fact that you showed up today, but I want you to be sure that you want to do this and not just for a few quick bucks. You have the potential to make much more, but I want you to choose that." Bill said with a quiet steady tone.

"I want to." I answer with more strength than I feel, but I am also looking right at him.

Smiling Bill reaches out and takes my hand "Once you start, you may never go back." He says as he stares at my face ", So Helen, let's start with something easy... Just a few questions between us, what's your real name and how old are you?"

"I'm Kelly King and I am 19 years old." I answer.

"Okay Kelly, I'm going to continue to call you Helen while you're here just to make sure no one else stumbles onto your real name. Now I would like to ask you a longer series of personal questions in front of a camera to see how you do. Are you okay with that?" Once again, I nod.

In a few minutes Bill has setup a camera and a microphone in front of the couch where I am sitting and while standing behind the camera says "Ready?"

When I reply yes a small red light turns on atop the camera and Bill begins to ask a series of specific questions:

"Have you ever had sex?" Answer: - "Yes"

"Have you ever given oral sex to a man?" - "Yes"

"Have you received oral sex from a man?" - "Yes"

"Have you ever given oral sex to a woman?" - "No"

"Have you received oral sex from a woman?" - "No"

"Have you ever had anal sex?" - "No"

"Oh, why not?" - "kind of scared to try it"

"Do you prefer to have sex with or without a condom?" - "With"

"Just for clarification" he begins "we pay $1,000 an hour, with a one hour minimum and 2 hour maximum per day, for sex on camera with a condom, but the pay for unprotected is $2,000 an hour, with the same limits. People just prefer that, and we sell a lot more of those movies."