‘Make him cum! Make him cum!’ Andrea was yelling.
‘I’m trying. I’m trying,’ Claire grunted back as she rode his cock into the ground.
‘Stick your finger up his arse, that’ll make him pop,’ someone suggested, but Rebecca had a better idea.
‘No, let’s use this,’ she said, holding a huge dildo up to twelve screams of delight and one of horror. It was this moment that I knew I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing any more. I jumped out of my seat and waded into Jon’s rescue, pulling and pushing half a dozen of them off long enough for Jon to scramble to his knees and flee.
‘Come on, a joke’s a joke but this has gone far enough,’ I was shouting angrily but the girls started sticking to me like pollen.
‘Godfrey wants some. Let’s give it to Godfrey now,’ Claire was screaming, as the weight of half a dozen girls suddenly pulled me to the ground. I tried to stay on my feet as long as possible but sheer weight of number finally pulled me over.
‘Paddy help!’ I desperately screamed, but Paddy and Jon just sat back and laughed. ‘Get off me you fucking slags!’ I yelled as they took over control of my legs and I felt my belt suddenly loosen.
‘Ooh, just for that, you’re going to get it good,’ Rebecca told me. Andrea and Natalie piled in with Claire and subdued my arms, kneeling down my wrists painfully.
‘Let me in, let me in,’ Traci shouted, stepping through the throng. Me and the girls saw the strap-on plastic cock she was lubing up at the same time and the volume went up as my trousers went down.
‘Fuck no, help. Seriously. No! No!! No!!!’ I screamed but to no avail. My pants were suddenly down and cock and balls gripped by a dozen vices, but Traci was yelling at them to turn me over. ‘No, help, Paddy you cunt, help me!’ but Paddy was enjoying the spectacle far too much to come to my assistance.
‘Don’t know what you’re laughing at, you’re next,’ Rebecca told him.
‘Try that shit with me and none of you gets paid,’ he casually replied, reminding them who was in charge here.
‘Me too, let me go or you’ll get nothing,’ I threatened, but they weren’t buying it.
‘Don’t listen to him, he doesn’t write the cheques. He doesn’t even work for Ace,’ Claire told them, as they manhandled me onto my front.
Just when all seemed lost, Andrea adjusted her position, allowing me to pull my arm free. Before they were able to able to subdue it again I tried to push Claire off but I ended up catching Natalie a cracker right across the face with my flailing arm. Natalie shrieked and went over onto her back, freeing up my other hand and I was just about to start pushing the rest of the girls off when there was suddenly no need. My lynch mob, to a girl, jumped off and rushed to Natalie’s aid. When they got her sat back up, she was sobbing and trying to hold her nose on her face as blood gushed out all over her hand.
‘You fucking idiot!’ Rebecca screamed at me. ‘What the fuck did you do that for?’
‘It was an accident. You wouldn’t get off me,’ I replied.
‘We were only having a laugh, you didn’t need to do that, you stupid bastard!’ she spat.
‘Ooohh, by dose, ah finks ee’s browkened it,’ Natalie sobbed.
‘She’s right, it definitely looks broken,’ Claire agreed, pulling Natalie’s hand away.
‘You bastard!’ someone else shouted at me, but this time I didn’t see who as all eleven turned on me, yelling and screaming and generally looking like they wanted to tear me several new arseholes to play with.
‘You’d better get out of here,’ Paddy said, pushing me towards the door.
‘You fucking cunt!’ someone else screamed. ‘My boyfriend’s going to kill you,’ she said and I wondered if she’d tell him the full story or just that I punched one of her mates in the face. I turned to ask her this and a bottle of vodka exploded on the wall next to me, showering me and Paddy with broken glass and booze. Several other girls thought this was a good idea and grabbed missiles of their own, but Howard intervened, snatching dildos, cans and light meters back out of their hands while yelling at Paddy to ‘Get him out of here’.
The door was yanked open, I was pushed through, then it slammed shut and suddenly I felt really bad. Why should I have felt like this? What should I have done? Let them sodomize me? Let them assault and rape and humiliate me the same as they’d done to Jon? It infuriated me the way none of them could see that they were in the wrong and I was half-tempted to go to the police and report the lot of them, but what would be the point? It would be like that old joke where a bloke staggers in to a cop shop to report he’d been raped by two Swedish nymphomaniacs and thirty-eight offers rush out to investigate. What jury was ever going to sympathize with me? Every bloke I’ve ever told this story to always looks at me in disbelief and tells me I’ve got ‘the best job in the world’. I try and explain it to them again but all they hear is, ‘No, you don’t understand, twelve naked stunners pinned me to the ground and tried to have sex with me against my will. It was awful.’ Even I think I’m a twat when I hear it put it like that. And then there’s the women. They always – and I do mean always – tell me it’s not possible to rape a man because of the old ‘if he didn’t enjoy it he wouldn’t get hard’ chestnut, but I’ve already explain this one.
So, nobody believed me. Or if they did, they can’t understand what my problem was. I sometimes wonder if this was how prostitutes felt when they got raped.
Actually that’s not true, one person believed and sympathized with me. The studio door was yanked open a second time and Jon came stumbling out. He was limping a little and looked in pain as we set off for the train station together.
He thanked me for helping him out and I apologized for not doing so sooner. He said it was okay, but I felt like a cunt anyway. When we got to the station and said our good-byes, Jon pointed out that I had blood on my knuckles but it wasn’t mine. We looked at the blood and the little scuffs where I must’ve caught Natalie’s teeth and Jon finally spoke.
‘Fucking nice one, mate.’
11. Nutters
Actually, you know what the most common response I get when I tell blokes that last story is? ‘You must be fucking mad.’ Yes, mustn’t I? Personally, I think working in the porn industry has opened my eyes to madness more than a degree in psychology ever could. And I’m not talking about the ‘you don’t have to be mad to work here but it helps’ jokey signs that painfully dull people put above their desks at work either. I’m talking about being able to recognise madness and misunderstanding in others that I was blind to before. People in Social Services may think that they’ve got their fingers on the mental illness pulse of this country but, believe me, it’s only when you work in porn that you realise just how many loopy bastards there actually are out there.