Eugene Edwards - The naughty babysitter

"Spread your legs a little more, honey," Bruce Adams told the girl as he focused his camera. "And smile like you're enjoying it. Too bad your cunt can't smile!"

We were in the basement of Bruce's home and it was a grand place to be. There were no partitions in the whole huge place so it like a theater, with lights and cameras and backdrops, just like Hollywood. Bruce made a lot of movies for stag parties and to be sold on the X-rated market, and he also took still photos for the big magazines. It was obvious he made plenty of money so I felt privileged to be a part of it. Sex was a big business and that's exactly where I wanted to be.

"Yeah, Angie, you'll do just fine," Bruce told me when he first saw me. "The younger the better for any good film, and besides that you're a real beauty.

You got any qualms about fucking under the lights?"

"I enjoy a good screw."

"Sure, they all do, honey. But can you perform under the lights? Turns a lot of people off!"

"I ain't never tried it that way. But some of my friends have watched while I fucked. I've watched them a few times too."

"This is a different proposition all together, Angie. It's going on film so you have to make it look good You have to pretend the guy turns you on, even if he doesn't."

"Any guy could turn me on."

"Maybe. But sometimes we have to make retakes and it goes on for hours. Think you can act it out even when you get bored?"

Imagine getting bored with sex!

I assured Bruce I'd do my best so he let me watch while he did some still work, and I even got to see three people fucking. Two women and one man. First the girls got to sucking on each other's titties, then they tried to fuck, then this good-looking guy walked in, naked, and the three of them went to fucking each other. They ended up by having the guy lie on his back, while one girl sat on his cock. He was cunt-sucking the other female. And no matter what Bruce warned me about, you could have fooled me. Those three people went to screwing like they enjoyed it. Even when Bruce had to change film and told them to take a break, they went right on rehearsing. They fucked and sucked and groaned and moaned like I never heard before.

I was ready to do my part right then.

"Naw, we got something special for you, Angie," Bruce told me. "I can sell a film of you real quick. You look fresh and virginal and that's what the public wants."

"I ain't no virgin."

"Naturally. But you look the part. We're gonna set up a scene where a guy rapes you. We'll make it look, good, like you're a schoolgirl or something. This guy will jump you, and you have to scream and kick and fight him off. But he gets to you. Puts it in you. Understand?"

"Sure. But do I have to fight too hard? I don't mind if he really does it to me."

"This is Never-never Land, honey. Remember? This is make-believe. Far-out city.

A trip from reality. So we have to give 'em something special. Work on their own secret desires, the things they want to do but can never have for real. We let people have a taste of all the sweetest sex they could ever imagine. That way nobody gets hurt and we cut down the crime rate. When they can get it in the movies they don't have to dream any more. They already got it, understand?"

"What if some people want to see animals fuck "people? Do you film that too?

There's a couple of my girl friends who always wanted dogs to do it to them.

And Shirley Appleby always stops to look at the horse by our school. Especially when he has a hard-on. I know she'd give anything to have that animal fuck her."

"Nothing wrong with that, Angie. We all have a secret little desire, something deep down we don't tell a damn soul about. A way to get our kicks. Getting raped, or fucking a black man, or pulling panties off young girls, or sneaking around back yards to peek in bedroom windows. We've all got something we dream about. So I put it on film to satisfy everybody."

"I don't want no animal to do it to me, Bruce."

"You don't have to worry about that, Angie. Sure I make a few of those films.

And we do some whipping, and we make all kinds of kinky movies when I get a special order for it. But there ain't a big market for that kind of stuff. Not really. Most people are hung up on straight screwing. They love to watch other people fuck. Hell, I've bad parties right here at my place where I put on ten hours of film. Nobody ever leaves. There's no end to the sexual hungers of real people. Long as I've got fresh faces, new bodies, different cocks and cunts, I could keep an audience here for a year. So I guess we're fulfilling a need to the community."

I kept getting the feeling Bruce felt guilty about what he was doing since he referred to community acceptance when he talked. Maybe I'd be that way too when I was forty years old like Bruce, yet right now I wasn't concerned about morals or community standards. I was young so I wanted to do what comes naturally.

"When do I get to do it?" I asked "An hour or so. We'll have to work outside."

"You mean I gotta get naked outside? Hey, I don't want the neighbors to see me!"

"Naw, they won't, Angie. I really like the idea of that rape scene with you. So we'll drive up to the woods and set it up. Should be a good scene."

In a way I was disappointed because here, under the lights, it seemed more like Hollywood. Deep down I was already excited, thinking about the countless men and women all over the country who would be watching me get screwed. I could be home taking a bath, or eating, or maybe in school, while somewhere, some time, people would be getting sexed-up from watching me get raped. It was a sensation that I enjoyed. An extension of my own sexual capacities until I felt like a real artist. A person who gave to the world something beyond their own personality. Maybe I was justifying myself, my own need for sexual exploitation, yet I had no guilt about it. I liked to fuck. I meant to make a living at it. And to my mind it was just another side of the coin from a housewife. A wife had to fuck for her bread too, or her husband would be chasing me and a dozen other females. So where was the wrong in enjoying the natural hungers of your own body? Lots of famous women had done it.

We drove up the canyon, and Bruce was cussing.

"Too much fuckin' sunlight!" He was mad. "I wanted it to look like dusk. Gives more drama when it's darker. Shit, now I'll have to use filters!"

He set up the scene where I had to walk through these trees, with books under my arm, and this guy follows me. I hear him coming. I run. The guy chases me.

He grabs me and throws me to the ground.

Sounded okay, but we did it six times before Bruce was satisfied, and I was getting tired. That was a lot of walking and running for nothing and I got the feeling Bruce thought he was a great Hollywood director, making a big important scene.

We took a break and had some sandwiches, then he got on to fucking me. This guy grabbed me and threw me down into the leaves, and I didn't have to act about getting raped.

"Hey, lemme up!" I kicked and yelled. "This ground's too hard! It hurts my back! Oooowww, something's sticking in my back!"

Bruce had costumed me with some special tear-away clothes so the actor ripped them off and then went to fucking me.

"Look at the camera, Angie!" Bruce shouted. "Let us see the pain on your face!

Look at the camera!"

Fuck him and his camera. The actor was screwing me all right but it was a dud.

He didn't even have a hard-on, yet he was pounding me into that hard dirt.

"Lemme up, goddammit!" I beat on his shoulders. "Who the hell you tryin' to kid, Mister! Lemme up!"

"Cut! Cut!" Bruce bellowed as he stood up waving his arms. "For cryin' out loud, Angie! You gotta make it look real! You gotta face the camera for hell sakes! And stop that damn screaming, okay?"