The Pornographer Diaries

6. Zoe Bawl

What a wanker!

What a wanker!

What a wanker!

I spent the best part of the next few days cringing every time I remembered what I’d done and remembering what I’d done about once every five minutes.

What a wanker!

Of course, in the cold light of day it was all very easy to see what had happened and why. Gemma, being an experienced pro, had simply given me what I’d asked for the first time I’d phoned up, whereas me, being a bit of a cock, had taken her at her word. Like the dim readers I liked to mock for sending in sex and marriage I’d bought into what Gemma had said and believed it.

Jesus.

I was very sheepish at work on Monday morning and jumped every time the phone rang, expecting it to be Gemma or Howard phoning up to complain. No one said anything to me, though I walked about on egg shells like everyone knew and wished I could get away for a month or two until it had faded into memory.

Roger wasn’t in, nor was Paddy or Matt, Monty, Fat Paul, anyone from Froth or Stuart, so the office was mercifully quiet. Don came over and we chatted about the various football results over the weekend until Susie phoned him up (even though she was less than 20 feet away) and told him he had a shitload of work to be getting on with. Susie was always doing this to Don. Why? For no other reason than because she could. Don was her worker, ergo her pet. Everyone else might get to talk, joke and laugh with each other but not Don. Don worked under Susie so he had to do what she said while he was at work and that was all there was to it. Why? Because she could and because she was a cunt. Take your pick. It pissed Don off no end but Susie’s other subordinate, Hazel, always got a real kick out of watching her colleague get humiliated and forced to return to his desk like a little kid. Why? Because she was a cunt too. It doesn’t get much simpler that this. Whatever the ins and outs of it all, Don was gone and I was once again left alone with my thoughts.

I wrote a couple of girl blurbs that had been waiting for me to do since Friday but I really wasn’t in the mood for this old nonsense this early on, so I borrowed one of Jackie’s Harry Potter books and started to read.

Just after twelve, Stuart arrived and called me into his office. I was dreading what was coming and wondered how best to bullshit my way out of the shame of it all but Stuart didn’t seem particularly angry or anything. He seemed hungover to fuck, but not angry.

‘Right, sit down. Okay, I need you to do me a favour,’ he started and I was fully-expecting him to follow this up with, ‘I want you to leave off harassing the girls. They’re frightened and upset.’ But he didn’t. Instead, what he proposed really didn’t sound like any sort of favour at all. ‘I need you to go over to the studio and direct a photoshoot for me this afternoon. I’ve got to meet a bloke about... well, that’s not important,’ he said, with a dismissive wave of the hand and I caught a blast of scotch in the face as he talked. ‘It’s over at Howard Parke’s studio in Battersea. You’ll be able to get a cab and claim it back and it’s this girl here,’ he said and handed me a polaroid of an incredibly cute young blonde.

‘Zoe, her name is, though I’m sure it’ll be fucking Bangers & Mash or something after today. She’s a first timer, never done any modelling before, sent her snaps in. I thought it would be a good learning curve for you because you’re going to need to have to do this sort of thing more in the future, so what do you say?’

‘Er… thank you,’ was what I said.

‘Yeah. That’s not really what I meant but, whatever. She’s over there at the moment but she’ll be in make-up for the next hour or so, so go and get your arse down there now and just get Howard to bang out a standard set. He knows what he’s doing anyway but make sure he shoots a few covers too, in case she turns out looking alright.’

Stuart scribbled down Howard’s address on a piece of paper and shooed me off by opening the door next to me.

‘Oh, and most importantly of all, make sure you get I.D. and a model release off her.’

‘A what?’ I asked, my mind already halfway to Battersea.

‘I.D. We can’t publish her pictures unless we’ve got photocopies of two forms of I.D. – drivers’ licence, passport, birth certificate, student card, that sort of thing – proving she’s over eighteen, and a model release giving us permission to publish her pictures which has been signed by her and witnessed by, well in this case it’ll be by you.’

‘Is that right?’ I said.

‘Of course, we can’t just publish any old picture of anyone we like otherwise we’d get taken to the cleaners. That’s why it never works when some bitter divorcee sends in pictures of his ex-wife, claiming he’s her and how she wants to be in the mag and the world to know that she loves it up the arse with a big stick. We can’t publish these pics, no matter how saucy she is, not without I.D. and a written consent,’ he said, then added, ‘Unless the woman’s dead. Then we can stick in whoever we want.’

‘Yeah but that’s a bit sick, isn’t it? I don’t know if I could do it over those sorts of pictures.’

‘Er, no, I mean pictures of her taken before she, erm…’ Stuart trailed off with a look of horror etched across his face. ‘You’d better get a move on, you don’t want to keep them hanging about,’ he told me, urging me away from him.

I grabbed my coat and left the building.

*

Zoe looked just unbelievable in real life. She was good-looking sure, but she wasn’t stunning. So what was it about her that I found so attractive?

Probably the fact that I knew I was going to be seeing her git, real soon.

She was sat in a big flannel dressing-gown in front of the make-up mirror while Howard’s assistant (who herself was no pig) applied the finishing touches to her immaculate lip gloss. She shot a glance in my direction and gave a little nervous smile when I said hello, which was about all she could do while under the brush.

Howard was there too. He shook my hand and greeted me like a long lost brother and led me next door to a mocked-up bedroom studio set where we discussed clothing and possible cover shots.

‘Stockings, suspenders, high heels, little frillies, that sort of thing,’ I told him.

‘And what about her?’ he replied.

We laughed, good-naturedly and he poured us a couple of vodkas, which we both made light work of.

‘Who’s the other geezer in there?’ I asked, as he refilled our glasses.

‘Oh him, the boyfriend, playing chaperone, for fuck’s sake,’ he said, shaking his head and drinking his drink. At that moment Howard’s assistant, Pamela, Zoe and Zoe’s boyfriend, Scott, all emerged from the dressing room and looked to us for approval.

‘Doesn’t she look beautiful?’ Pamela said, and Zoe lit up with pride.

‘Good enough to eat,’ I agreed and noticed Scott’s eyes dart in my direction.

‘I’ll be off then,’ Pamela said and she and Howard swapped kisses.

‘Alright my love, thanks for everything,’ Howard said, patting her arse.

‘Are you going?’ Scott asked.

‘Yes, why do you want a lift somewhere?’ Pamela asked. The very notion of leaving his girlfriend alone with me and Howard seemed to horrify Scott, who denied he was going anywhere.

‘Right then,’ Howard said, clapping his hands. ‘Shall we get started?’

Zoe took the frillies we’d picked out for her and disappeared back into the dressing room to put them on, which disappointed and confused me a little, then ten minutes later she emerged looking so gut-wrenchingly sexy that I would’ve happily killed everyone else in the room if she’d given me the nod.

Now that was a woman, I thought to myself, my tongue lolling out of my head. I tried not to make it too obvious and stare at her, but then suddenly remembered I was a professional and, as such, was allowed to stare as much as I liked. So I did, and almost wore out my corneas in the process. I’d never really been a lingerie fan or anything like that before, but seeing Zoe three feet away decked out in that lacy black finery I was immediately converted. I still don’t think it suits me, but Zoe looked fantastic in it.

‘My God,’ I kept muttering under my breath. ‘My God.’

What must’ve been going on in boyfriend Scott’s head I could only imagine. Here was his girlfriend, probably looking more stunning than he’d ever seen her before, and he was sharing the moment with two other geezers. What sort of inner conflict must that stir up?

‘Shall we get you on the bed then darling?’ Howard said, popping my intense concentration. ‘Alright, come around here,’ he said, guiding her into position and moving her this way and that with his great sticky paws. Zoe didn’t seem to mind and co-operated like a shop dummy but Scott’s face was a picture, especially when Howard took a light reading off her tits.

‘So, er, so have you done many of these?’ a voice asked behind me. It was Scott, he’d wandered over to make conversation but he was still watching Zoe and Howard like a hawk. As was I.

‘Oh yeah, they’re nothing, just work to me these days,’ I lied.

‘Do they take long? I mean, what’s going to happen? I mean...’

‘Oh, it’s nothing, just the usual old routine,’ I reassured him. ‘Striptease and sex toys, that sort of thing.’

‘No one said anything to me about sex toys,’ he protested, which was a coincidence because no one had said anything to me about sex toys either. I’d just decided to throw that in for a laugh to see the look on his face. It was great.

‘Well we’ll see,’ I told him and moved closer to the set for a better view. Scott followed me step for step, unwilling to leave my side.

‘Okay, and big smile,’ Howard told her, looking through the viewfinder. ‘Come on now, say “cheese”…’ – which she did and SNAP. ‘Now say “big cock please”…’ which again she did and SNAP. ‘Now “hot jizz please”…’ SNAP. ‘Now “spank me please”…’ SNAP, etc. Howard carried on this way for several minutes while he snapped off a roll of cover shots of Zoe in various poses, pulling various faces. He could’ve just got her to say ‘cheese’ or ‘please’ or just asked her to smile, I suppose, but it was funny the way he kept coming up with something new each time and soon we were all laughing and a little more at ease with each other, which I guess was the point.

Actually, to say we were all laughing wasn’t exactly true. One of us looked fit to bust and you ain’t going to win a bun for guessing who.

‘So, what did you do before you worked on this?’ Scott asked, distracting me from his girlfriend, who was just about to start losing her clothes.

‘Oh you know, not a lot...’ I said, trailing off as one of the straps fell down around her shoulders.

‘So how did you get into doing this then? Did you go to college?’ Scott tried again, but I wasn’t biting.

‘Yeah, something like that,’ I replied.

‘And so, I mean, if I wanted a job on your magazine, how would I go about it?’

‘I don’t know,’ I told him, as all of a sudden one of Zoe’s nipples hoved into view.

I can’t tell you what a feeling of exhilaration I felt as that first little bud broke from ground. It was like... like... like... well the only way I can describe it is like this; you know that bit in Jaws, when Roy Scheider’s on the beach and he sees that little kid eaten on the lilo and the camera rushes into his face? That sudden surging realisation. Well, it was like that. A kind of, ‘Oh my God, this is really happening. She’s going to get it all out with me standing right here and nobody in the world can do anything about it.’

Fantastic.

And it’s a different sort of rush from when you take a bird home and she gets her kit off for the first time because there was no connection between me and Zoe, no relationship. She was just doing it, I was just watching. This was all purely voyeuristic, which I guess, in a nutshell, is what pornography is all about. It’s seeing something you have no right to see. It’s like seeing up some girl’s skirt on the bus or accidentally wandering into the women’s changing rooms at your local swimming baths. It’s a taboo pleasure. It’s like, say for example, if you’ve got a neighbour that you really fancy and one night she invites you in for a coffee and you end up in bed together. Well that’s all great and good but doesn’t it feel naughtier, more taboo, when you’re standing on her garage roof in the middle of the night watching her with binoculars?

Well, that’s what I think anyway.

So there it was, first one, then the other, separated only by the sounds of Howard’s shutter snapping open and shut and my swallowing.

Zoe gradually peeled the lacy basque away to reveal her bangers in all their glory (and a fine pair she had too) before going to work losing her stockings.

‘So, I mean, how long have you been doing this?’ Scott tried again, his voice now a little wobbly.

‘Look, sorry mate, I don’t mean to be short with you or anything but I am trying to work here,’ I said and went back to my silent vigil.

Scott looked around the studio, searching for what, I don’t know, but he seemed to look absolutely everywhere except at his slowly undressing girlfriend.

‘That’s it now, peel each stocking off and make out as if you’re going to flick them off the end of your toes,’ Howard was saying. ‘That’s it, that’s beautiful. You’re a natural. Isn’t this fun?’ Zoe giggled in agreement and I emitted a guttural grunt, but Scott didn’t seem to have anything to say on the matter and had disappeared off behind me somewhere, much to my relief.

‘That’s wonderful, hold that. Yep, now legs apart, really thrust forward. Oh, I say, that’s superb...’ SNAP SNAP SNAP. Howard stopped for a moment and looked up from behind the camera. ‘Darling. Honey, all your hair’s hanging down in your eyes. No dear, just leave it. Godfrey will get it.’ Then he turned to me. ‘God’, give her a hand tidying her hair behind her ears will you?’

Oh man, this was just getting better and better.

I moved forward while Zoe lay in position, now only her knickers in place, and gently brushed her hair from her face and tucked it behind her ears. As I did so she looked up and gave me a smile that almost had her eye out. At that moment she was the most sexually-charged woman on the planet and had we been alone I would’ve given her the best five seconds of her life.

‘Thank you Godfrey,’ Zoe grinned and I mumbled something along the lines of, ‘not at all, my pleasure’.

‘Okay then sweetheart, a couple more in that last pose then I want you to start pulling your pants down...’ Howard started to say but this was about all Scott could take. He burst forward out of nowhere, held his hand up in front of the camera and seized Zoe by the arm.

‘No! No! No!’ he blubbed, imploring her. ‘No more. Don’t! Don’t! Come on, let’s go home. I don’t want you to do this. I’m sorry, Zoe please, let’s just go.’

‘Hey, get off me,’ she protested, shocked, annoyed and clearly embarrassed. ‘Let me go!’

‘Zoe, no, you don’t have to do this. Please, you don’t have to do this.’

‘Don’t have to do this? This was your idea, remember?’ she yelled as the pair of them played tug-of-war with each other across the bed. ‘Get off!’

‘I’ve changed my mind, I’m sorry, please, let’s just go,’ he was crying. He was crying? Yeah, he was, he was crying. Tears were streaming down his face and his eyes were all puffy and red. Jesus mate, you’re going to wake up in the middle of the night and remember this day for a few years to come, I bet, I thought to myself with an inner smile.

‘Please...’ he was imploring her, crying more and more.

‘No, I’m doing it and that’s the end of... get off!’

‘I love you, I love you, please don’t. Zoe, no... boo-hoo-hoo,’ etc.

Me and Howard had stood back without saying a word but now it looked like it was time to step in. Howard gave me the nod and we both went and wrestled Scott away from her and the bed and bundled him towards the door. Scott struggled and screamed in protest and we only let him go when Zoe blocked our path and told us to leave off.

‘Let him go, it’s all right.’

Scott broke forward to hug her but she pushed him back and spelt it out plain and clear.

‘Now I’m doing this whether you like it or not, and I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing this for me. You don’t have a say in it, have you got that clear? And if you disturb us one more time I’ll be packing my bags tonight when we get home, do you understand?’ she said, finally getting his attention. ‘Now you’ve got a choice, either you can stay and sit quietly or you can go and I’ll meet you at home. What’s it to be?’

Go Go Go Go, I was chanting inwardly but Scott weren’t about to leave Zoe here alone with us and told her he wanted to stay.

‘No, I can’t have this, he’s got to go. I’m trying to run a business here,’ Howard objected but Zoe told him if Scott was forced to leave, she’d go too. I think Scott saw a glimmer of salvation with this but couldn’t work out how to exploit it so, in the end, we all resumed our positions and got back to work.

Not much to tell after that. Zoe stripped down nicely and we posed, positioned and photographed her from every conceivable angle, although the fun atmosphere from before was now somewhat spoilt by Scott’s gentle sobbing off in the corner. This didn’t do anyone any favours, least of all Zoe, whose smiles now looked papered on.

To pay Scott back for spoiling my first porn shoot, I got Zoe to do a load of pink shots (pulling herself open) and insertion stuff. We’d never use them in a million years but I just wanted to put Scott through the wringer a bit more.

When the last shot was taken, Zoe got dressed and filled out all the relevant paper work in exchange for a cheque. As she did this, Scott approached me and Howard and apologised to us for losing it in the way that he did and Howard gave him a brief lecture by way of response.

‘This is a professional industry, Scott. We’re not taking pictures of Zoe for titillation and thrills, this is how I make my living and this is precisely the reason I discourage boyfriends, husbands or any other chaperone from coming along. Not because I’ve got something to hide or because we want to force your girlfriend into doing something she doesn’t want to do, but because people who don’t work in the industry get all emotional and get in the way of professionals at work,’ he said, indicated to the pair of us.

Scott apologised again and Howard told him no harm done and shook his hand before he left. Zoe said goodbye and told us that she had enjoyed it but she didn’t know whether or not she was ready to make a career out of it just yet. She gave Howard and me a kiss on the cheek and her and Scott linked arms and left.

And as we watched them walk up the road and loop their arms around each other in reconciliation, Howard lit a fag and said, ‘Besides, if you hadn’t have been here mate, we could’ve both done your bird.’