The Feeder (4 page)

Friday

“Louie and I can’t get enough of each other. We fuck every chance we get – in the limo, in nightclub bathrooms, once in the stairwell of his apartment building when the elevator was stuck. I think I love him. I know my body does. Still haven’t heard back whether I’m going to be on the reality show but he says not to worry, he’s got it taken care of.”

The next several dozen or so entries of Camille’s journal read more like Penthouse Forum than anything else; detailed accounts of steamy sexual encounters between her and Louie. No more mention was made of auditions or acting work. Just sex. I kept reading, skimming over the sex parts because they were repetitive and didn’t offer any new information… that was, until I noticed yet another party joining Camille’s sex life.

Friday

“I’m so stoked, I can’t believe I’m actually going to meet someone famous tonight! Louie has landed a new client, and it’s none other than Dirk Davis! He has a reputation for being a real badass. We’re going out with him and some of his friends tonight. These are the kind of people I need to be hanging with.”

Sunday

“Whoa. What a fucking weekend. Dirk Davis is a major dickhead. It’s no wonder he got fired from that last movie he was working on. But I did manage to make some new contacts through him. Can’t drop their names right now, but they know who they are.”

As I read, Camille’s new Hollywood life began to take an unexpected turn. As Louie’s main squeeze, she was willing to do pretty much whatever he wanted.

Dirk Davis brought them: friends and acquaintances of his, some famous, some not so famous but all of them wealthy.

They paid large sums of money for the company of a beautiful starlet such as my sister and Lucille, Louie’s ‘other’ girlfriend. Lucille was as brunette as Camille was blonde, and gorgeous, according to Camille.

The wealthy Hollywood types were paying big bucks for the ‘company’ of these two girls and I wondered how many others as well. Louie and his so-called “agency” were beginning to look pretty stinky to me.

It wasn’t long before Camille learned she was expected to have sex with these ‘clients’. She objected at first, but Louie subdued her with a few kisses and ‘I love yous’ and reassured her it was in the best interest of her career.

Camille cried at first, but convinced herself that fraternizing with famous people, sex or not, was a good thing. My sister’s career as a would-be movie star had taken an unseen (by her) turn to that of a high-class call girl.

At first, it seemed as if her encounters with the clients consisted of wining and dining followed by a little more than dessert afterward. Over time, the clientele seemed to change. The men became less famous, the dates less classy and the treatment rougher. When she complained to Louie about it, he asked her how serious she was about being a star. Would she do whatever it took to make it or was she going to quit like ninety percent of the wannabes out there?

He gave her plenty of Valium to relax her, then started giving her lines of heroin to snort. She continued to accept that what she was doing was a necessary step in the process of becoming a star. After all, Louie told her, even Marilyn Monroe had to suck and fuck her way to the top.

One night Dirk Davis himself had a go at her, and it wasn’t pretty. He slipped roofies into her drink. She blacked out and woke up face down with her hands tied and his cock up her ass. The more she struggled and cried, the harder he fucked her, slapping her in the side of the head until her ears were ringing. After cumming in her ass, he flipped her over and rammed his shit-covered cock into her mouth, shoving it down her throat until she puked. He beat her black and blue and made her lick her own puke off his body.

Compared to Lucille, Camille got off easy. Lucille ended up in the emergency room after her encounter with Dirk. It seemed he only did each girl once because he brutalized them to the point where they either wouldn’t or couldn’t ever have sex with him again. Lucille needed an emergency hysterectomy after he shoved a wine bottle into her vagina and kicked it so hard it became lodged in her uterus. She nearly died from internal bleeding. After that, Camille never saw Lucille again.

I began to imagine the things I’d like to do to Mr. Davis if we ever met.

Reading Camille’s journal was like riding a slow driverless bus downhill from the upscale world of Beverly Hills into the dreary slums of a third-world country.

It truly was a descent into Hell.

Wednesday

“Louie got me a part in a film. Ok, well it’s actually just a screen test and audition tomorrow but he says I’m as good as in there. The producer is a friend of his and he owes him a favor so he’s agreed to give me a role. There is some nudity, but he says this role might actually land me a shoot for a centerfold!”

Thursday

“I guess I got the part. They didn’t exactly tell me, not yet anyway. The audition wasn’t quite what I expected. It’s an adult film so I had to show them what I could do. I guess blowing someone on camera isn’t so bad, as long as the guy is gorgeous. They said I’ll probably be in a scene with another girl. It’s not like I haven’t done it before. Me and Lucille used to do that kind of shit all the time for clients, so it’s no biggie.”

Tuesday

“We started shooting the porno flick today. It wasn’t the one I originally auditioned for but at least I still got a part in something. ‘Blonde Booty Babes’ is apparently the name of it. It’s an anal flick. Enough said.”

Thursday

“Anyone who said porno acting was easy never had to take it in the ass all day long. Fucking painful. Thank god Louie gave me enough shit to keep me good and high for the shoot. Heroin’s the next best thing to morphine for numbing pain, and when you do feel anything you don’t give a rat’s ass about it.”

Wednesday

“Done shooting my part. Glad that’s over. Not in a hurry to do any more ass porn, but if it gets me where I want to be, then it’s all worth it. Louie says I did good and we’ll get to see the film at the wrap party next month.”

Reading the journal was one of those car-wreck situations. You don’t want to see the horror you know you’re going to see but you just can’t seem to look away.

My chest tightened as I imagined what it must have been like to be in Camille’s dumb-assed drug-addled shoes; foolishly believing that everything she was doing was somehow leading her up the red carpet to stardom.

She was unable to see the reality of what was happening to her. Each sordid act she participated in led her one step further down into the hell that her life had become.

Each disgusting thing Louie convinced her to do set her up for a slightly more degrading act the next time. He was methodically manipulating her into becoming his puppet, and every act of his twisted play added more strings to his control over her.

Her weak defense of her actions and Louie’s sounded half-hearted at best. I predicted that before long she wouldn’t bother to justify what she was doing (or what Louie was doing to her) at all.

As I read further, my suspicions were confirmed. After a few low-budget porno films, Camille put her foot down and objected, telling him that she didn’t come to Hollywood to fuck for money. She wanted real auditions for real movie roles, not fuck films.

Louie’s response was to ‘fire’ her as his client. He said if she didn’t like the way he did things, he’d introduce her to someone who could manage her more efficiently.

Monday

“So, that’s it then. It’s over between me and Louie. He pretty much fucking dumped me and removed me as a client. Oh well, it’s his loss. He did hook me up with a new manager, though so I don’t have to go back to working in the strip bars. Going back to dancing wouldn’t be so bad, actually. I had some good times in
those days. Partied with some fun people and didn’t have to fuck anyone unless I wanted to. But going back to that is like going backwards and I haven’t come this far just to give up and go back. So, onward and upward, I guess. I’m meeting the new dude tonight. His name is Vinnie Dimone but everyone calls him Diamond Vinnie. I hear he’s a real no-nonsense type. I’ll be smart this time. It’s gonna be strictly business. I’m not getting involved with my agent, that was the mistake I made with Louie.”

Friday

“The new guy is a stone cold fox! OMG! I can’t even remember what I saw in Louie. He’s like movie star gorgeous. He’s older than Louie, somewhere in his forties but he’s one of those men who obviously improves with age. He’s taking me out tonight, not to some nightclub full of drunken kids but to a real fancy restaurant, where you can’t even get a table unless you’re somebody. And he drives a BMW – a classy car, not some obnoxious sportscar. Finally I’m gonna get treated how I deserve – like a LADY!”

Camille was wrong.

She was oh, so wrong!

How could she be so stupid?

Anyone with half a brain could figure out that someone with a name like Diamond Vinnie had to be a pimp. Intuition told me Louie hadn’t ‘fired’ her; he had sold her.

My intuition was seldom wrong.

Sunday

“Louie was just a kid, I can see that now. We had some good times but all it was was just hot and dirty sex. It’s not just sex anymore. Vinnie makes love to me, slowly and sensually. He’s a
REAL man, the type who knows how to treat a woman. He hasn’t mentioned anything about work yet, but I’m sure he’ll line me up with something when the timing’s right. He’s just waiting for the perfect role to come up.

Oh yeah, and Vinnie’s dope is primo shit... Booyah! None of that dirt Louie was always feeding us.”

Thursday

“What’s with these Hollywood guys anyway? He showed up in a limo tonight with two black bitches in the back. I had to share the limo, and him with them, then four more bitches who were waiting inside the club. He said he wanted to introduce me to some of the other girls. Ugh. Jealousy is sooo not me!”

Friday

“He paired me up with one of the black chicks, named Tammela. He said she’d ‘show me the ropes’, whatever that means. When it comes to acting I already know what I’m doing, I just need to be given a chance to show em what I got. Tammie seems pretty cool, so I don’t mind hanging out with her. At least he didn’t pair me up with some royal bitch. Tams said for me to meet her tomorrow night and we’ll go out.”

Sunday

“What the fuck?

‘Going out’ with Tammie wasn’t what I expected. When she told me she worked ‘high track’ I didn’t know what that meant.

High track is Sunset Blvd.

Working is hooking.

She’s a hooker. They’re ALL hookers. And now that’s what they think I am. I don’t know what the fuck Louie told them
but fuck him, that little cocksucker. Karma’s gonna get him good one day.”

Oh yeah, I was right.

God, how I hated how often I was right.

Camille had been a prostitute for some time but she had been unable to see it. Why couldn’t she see what was so blatantly clear to anyone else?

Drugs. It had to be the drugs.

Those bastards.

Yeah, karma was going to pay all of them a visit. Every last one of them.

Hello, my name is Karma. How do you like me so far?

Sunday

“Well, I’m telling him no. I’m going to sit Mr. Hot Shot down and tell him, thank you very much but I’m an actress, not a prostitute. I’ll wish him luck and be on my way and I’ll find myself a REAL agent even if I have to start from the bottom and go back to dancing again. I’m sure Hot Bods will take me back and book me into a club for next week.”

Monday

“Oh my fuck. What have I gotten myself into? He beat the shit out of me. All I did was tell him I was leaving to go and find a real agent and he just fucking lost it on me. My face is a mess. It’ll take a carload of makeup to cover this shit up. That’s the irony of the whole thing. He says he has the hottest looking girls in town, but then he makes me look like I just lost a date with Mike Tyson.

I’m not putting up with this shit. I’m calling the cops on him.”

Tuesday

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck oh no. He found out I called the cops. I have no fucking idea how he knew! It’s like they told him or something. He must know somebody on the police force. Those corrupt bastards. I should have known they’re all fucking corrupt in this city. I got another black eye. Now I have a matching set. It’ll make the eyeshadow dilemma a bit easier. Glad I only have two eyes. Now who’m I gonna call? Not Ghostbusters, that’s for sure.”

Friday

“Back to the strip to make his money. Best keep him happy because I’ve seen what happens when you piss him off. He is a pimp. There, I said it. And I guess that makes me a hooker. Oh well, at least he supplies me with all the kickass drugs I can do.”

At last she had finally admitted it.

What she was, and what she was doing.

Isn’t admitting you have a problem the first step toward rehabilitation? I had heard that somewhere. But that was for alcoholics or drug addicts or… overeaters and stuff. I’d never heard of a Prostitutes Anonymous. If it did exist it would have to be an extremely anonymous club if they wanted to stay clear of pimps.

Maybe now that Camille had acknowledged what she was doing, she was willing to accept my offer of help to get out. If I wanted to take her home, all I had to do was find her. I had a pretty good idea where to start. I also had a pretty good idea who the ‘cop boyfriend’ was.

“It’s like they told him or something. He must know someone on the police force…”

He
was
someone on the police force.

Diamond Vinnie was a pimp.