John Holmes - Porn King

I had my favorite actresses; a few I even liked as friends. Ginger Lynn was the best around in the industry at this time, but there were others as well. I had a lot of respect for Ginger. Ginger was different; she had class. Not only was she sweet and very sexy, she was above all a real person. I really liked her as a friend, not just another “girl-toy.”

Along with my favorites, I definitely had my dreads. During the filming of California Valley Girls, I was so pissed off at Kimberly Carson that I almost ran her down with my car. Most of the girls were nice, or at least had something positive going for them. If I didn’t like someone, I’d try to forget the reason I didn’t care for her and focus on her one best feature. As pretty as a girl might be, if she were too much of a bitch for me to ignore, I would degrade her in my mind and make it as physically uncomfortable for her as I could. That might sound harsh, but that’s the way it was. I called it “venge-fucking.” Thankfully, this didn’t happen too often.

Although I have worked with many blondes during my career, I have always preferred small, petite brunettes with big dark eyes. I have found that most blonde, blue-eyed women have an attitude. They tend to act is if they are better than the other girls and they don’t try as hard. I find that brunettes give it their all and try even harder to please. Redheads are a lot of fun in bed but they have the tendency of getting crazy and are most likely to become obsessed. It must be something in their genetic make-up. From my experience, there is no crazier woman than a red-headed one. As for wild women, I would defiantly have to say Italian women are the wildest, and nastiest, in bed. In fact, from my experience, bed is the only place they like to be.

If I learned anything about porn actresses over the years it’s that the better their upbringing, the nastier they could be and usually were. Throw in a few extra bucks and a little attention and a producer could get them to do just about any degrading, nasty thing he wanted them to do.

The same basic theory applied to women outside the business, as well. To me, it confirmed the old “preacher’s daughter” theory. Usually, the preacher’s daughter was the biggest slut in the church, town or wherever she happened to be. When standards are set too high for a person to live up to, then that person has more fun being bad. There is no rebel like a horny one!

Drugs will definitely loosen a person up. Things that a person would never do straight, they are likely to do while on drugs. Drugs and the porn business go hand in hand. From what I could see, most everyone in the business was on drugs, mostly cocaine, but we all had our favorites. How freely drugs were passed around on a set depended on whom you were working for. With some producers and directors, drugs were a powerful way to control a situation, giving them an edge, perhaps getting a girl to do ‘favors,’ either for them or a friend. Most girls fell right into the trap, one they hadn’t a clue was being set for them. I have known very few actresses through the years who were smart enough to say no, especially if they thought it would get them closer to a person in power, such as someone who could land them future projects.

As for the male actors, the producers couldn’t have cared less if they were high or not, as long as they could get it up, and drugs definitely had an adverse effect in that department. During my worst drug burnouts I was no better than any other male actor, except that it was rather difficult to find a stand-in for me to “cheat the shot.” Sometimes they were forced to wait and wait, often being forced to go onto the next scene and come back to me when I was ready. Of course this cost them time and money, but nobody wanted to deal with me during a burnout anyway because I could be such an asshole. It was best to stay out of my face.

Bill had become a producer for one of the bigger companies, VCX, which meant I automatically had a job assisting in production and doing some directing. That was fine with me, except the added responsibility was little more of a cover up for him when he either had to catch up on some sleep or snap out of a drug induced lethargy. Bill did have his good side, however, and in his own way he did take care of me from time to time. He knew I had his back whenever necessary, even though I often disagreed with him. I guess everyone has a good side; it’s just too easy to get caught up in all the games we play sometimes. The one thing that really annoyed me the most about Bill was that he never missed an opportunity to put me in a situation in an attempt to bring him and Misty closer together. That happened way too many times and really bothered me.

It finally reached a point when I realized that Misty would have to get out of the business. Having her around would have made it too easy for my enemies to get their hands on her, which would have put us both in danger. There was another reason, as well. I wanted her for myself. I knew that if I were to marry Misty, or even just love her, then there was only one solution: she had to drop out of sight.

How could I tell Misty she could no longer work? How could I force her to stay home and become a housewife? And how could I say she could not touch another man when for years I had lived off my wild “open sex” reputation? Not only was I proud of my notorious acclaim, I liked to fool around with other women too. For me to tell Misty one thing and practice another would have me looking and feeling like a fool. After all, I never believed in double standards. While I knew that Misty really didn’t want to be with another man I also knew she was just enough the rebel type to seek whatever she was told that she couldn’t have. Had I told her she could only be with me, I could easily see her being with someone else. It didn’t bother me for her to be with other girls. In fact, I encouraged her because to me that was different.

With Misty not being around the business, it made it easier for me to guide her into my way of thinking. It was only when Bill was around her that I had any problems. He continually put thoughts in her head. However, I had more power over Misty than Bill did, and it really bothered him that his influence was slipping away. The seeds I had planted early on were taking root. With Misty thinking a certain way, I could easily get out of whatever he would tell her, turn it back on him, and he would never know it. Misty would always promise Bill that she wouldn’t say anything about the things that he would tell her but she always did and that gave me an upper edge over the situation. Misty proved to be a valuable asset.

By the end of 1984, the time was ripe for Bill and me to break away from our jobs at VCX and start our own company. It was time for us to make the big money. Pornography was more popular than ever and taking in huge profits, so it seemed only fitting that we open our own production company. Misty had become bored at home and since we needed a girl to help get our office organized, she seemed like a good choice. Her job was not supposed to last more than a few days so I didn’t believe there would be a problem working with Bill. Misty was really good around the office, she surprised everyone, especially me. Bill insisted she work full time. It didn’t sit well, but I agreed anyway. There was one big plus having Misty around the office—she could be my own little spy. I knew Bill had the same agenda. I tried to warn her of his games and that it could get confusing for her, but she said she could handle it.

I knew that Misty was smart, but I never dreamed she would become our office manager and bookkeeper. The business part of it was easy for her, but I doubt she fully realized that in her new role I would have to protect her more than ever. It was hard for Misty when people asked about her and I would say, “She is my secretary,” or even worse, “She is my maid.” I didn’t want people to know that we were seriously involved and about to marry. If that were to get out it might bring danger to her, it might also mess up some of my “playtime.”