John Holmes - Porn King

Three days later, back in High Power, I received a letter from my former drug dealer, Nash. He had been found guilty of processing cocaine for sale and was a prisoner in the same jail. “Do what you have to do,” it stated. “You’ve suffered enough. Say what you have to say to get out of here.” The fact that Nash had written me this note made me think that Nash hadn’t done it. I guess I’ll never know for sure who killed the people at 8763 Wonderland Ave. I have my suspicions, however. I do know that I never want to run into the person or persons that actually committed this horrific massacre.

At last I was out of jail. I was stone broke, and hadn’t even a place to go. As far as my plans for the future, I hadn’t a clue. I figured no one would even want to talk to me much less hire me! As far as my friends were concerned, I didn’t really think I had any. I did however have one place to go. After this whole ordeal and the pictures that taunted my mind, one might think I would never want to go near any drugs. Not so; I had to have something to erase the thoughts and the fear that never seemed to clear from my mind. I had done a lot of business with this old pal of mine; I had known him for many years. In fact, it was Bill that had turned me onto cocaine in the first place. He took me in and before long my drug debt to him was growing increasingly on the “high” side. Bill had many connections in the porn business as well and it wasn’t long before I was back on the set again. All the publicity that I thought was going to hurt me had somehow turned around for me. I was more in demand than ever and just as “high” too! “What did I have to lose”, I thought to myself…

Little did I knowI would meet the girl who would melt my heart and change its course forever? Her name was Misty Dawn (actually Laurie). She was 19 and I knew I had to have her from the moment I saw her. I also knew she wanted me too, in a bad way. With her big brown eyes and long brown hair she had a special look about her, one that set her apart from the other girls and made her seem strangely out of place on an X-rated movie set.

Misty had other attributes that weren’t quite so obvious at first glance. In time, I discovered her tenacious side. It didn’t take long, however, to find out how persuasive she could be with the producer. We were shooting a film called Marathon in San Francisco when the news came that I would be doing a scene with her that wasn’t in the script. Through some quick manipulation, she trapped me into doing a scene. I was angry with her at first, but not as angry as some of the other girls on the set who, in their jealousy, accused Misty of ripping things off from their dressing room. I knew Misty wasn’t guilty, but one of the girls needed an excuse to cut up her face. These girls were rougher than the ones Misty worked with in Los Angeles, and I honestly believe they were angry at Misty only because they thought I was. But so what, Misty didn’t deserve what was about to happen to her. Her intentions were not bad, just mishandled. Seeing the way things were going, I found myself protecting Misty and telling the girls to leave her alone. Somehow, we got through it all. Misty even apologized for involving me in the situation, and when the shoot was finally over, I gave her my phone number. I knew she would call.

It was four or five days before I heard from Misty. In the meantime, I was having fun with everyone who wandered my way. As dog-ass skinny as I was, it seemed some things never changed. Girls were there for my picking.

In spite of what some people might believe, I am very attracted to women. It has been rumored that I am gay so I guess it’s up to me to set the record straight. Sure, I had participated in a gay film in the past, but that was out of necessity. I needed the money and it sure wasn’t all that pleasurable for me. I am not putting down what I did—I certainly don’t have anything against it. Different stokes for different folks, as they say. What makes us all unique is our right to choose whatever and whomever. Where would we be, and especially where would I be without the sexual revolution? The point is that I love women; the younger the better, as long as they are legal.

I could tell how much Misty wanted me. She began calling and asking about cocaine. She wanted some, she said. I knew she really didn’t do drugs, but business was business. Later, she confessed that she gave it to her friends. She even convinced a producer by the name of Hal Freeman to use me in the film California Valley Girls.

One night, on Bill’s birthday, I asked Misty and a friend of hers to come up to the house. While I was really beginning to feel something inside for Misty, I definitely didn’t want to get hung up on anyone. What better way to get rid of that feeling than by giving her away as a gift to Bill? Without saying a word to Misty about my “surprise,” she figured it all out. She definitely wasn’t stupid, even if she pretended to be at times. Needless to say she went to bed with me that night, not Bill. Little did I know at that time that she would be with me from there on out. I called her “Misty Sue Bell,” in private. The name “Dawn” didn’t sit well. Misty had a southern accent, it was cute, “Sue Bell” somehow, fit her.

Misty was special, she was very understanding as she had somewhat of a submissive nature and never asked too many questions. Having been around the porn business, she could relate to my life as a male prostitute. I never realized how much until the time she went to Palos Verdes with me, pretending to be my goddaughter. We were meeting a very wealthy older woman, who liked to pay guys to line up and “gang bang” her while an audience of her friends watched. Misty stood on the sidelines, taking it all in, not saying a word. She understood.

At home, Bill had a bedroom and connecting bathroom that adjoined mine. When Misty moved into the big house, she kept all her stuff in her room, but she slept with me. We had two separate phone lines so that there would be no confusion or conflict with all the business that was coming our way. One night I handed Misty a mirror so she could do a line of coke. I couldn’t believe it when she refused. That was the first time anyone had ever said no to me on that subject, especially in California. Misty’s excuse was that coke made her feel funny and unable to talk, that was why the few times that she had bought it from me she didn’t use it herself. I didn’t argue with her. I simply went into the bathroom and freebased alone for about five hours while she sat on the other side of the door wondering if I was ever going to come out. I thought a lot about what she had said and the truth was, the shit didn’t make me feel all that great anymore either. Even though my mind was all screwed up, I knew I had to get clean if I were to have any future at all. More than anything, I wanted that future to include someone in my life. Misty had far more willpower than I did. She was good for me; I needed her.

The two weeks that followed were very ugly as I went cold turkey. In spite of the monster I know I was, Misty stuck by me the whole way, and when it was over, I was feeling healthier and more vibrant than I had felt in years. We began to have so much fun together, and I believe she was feeling young again too. She had missed out on being a kid just as much as I had, so we were making up for lost time, doing all the things we seldom got to do while growing up. It also helped that we had some money at that time to do them. We had a wild, wonderful time going from one amusement park to another, seeing movies, soaking up the sun at the Biltmore Hotel in Palm Springs, gambling in Las Vegas—Misty even won fifteen-thousand bucks playing roulette once. We loved to take long walks on the beach. No matter where we went we laughed and basically made a spectacle out of ourselves. We didn’t care. We were living again!