Monthly Archives: May 2015
A Tumblr question, posed by an anonymous grey sunglass-wearing face: When did you stop studying and planning a useful career and start being a slut, being a sexual object and earning money the easy and filthy way?
Well, I started being a slut long before I started planning my career. I started being a sexual object about three quarters of the way through my studies. And I started earning money after I graduated, just like most people do. I will admit it’s easier. Less barrier to entry.
But really, is porn money filthier than mainstream film money?
I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, just, you know.
About once a week now, I get someone emailing/tweeting/etc asking me about my pussy. More specifically, asking me about how I get it so goddamned smooth.
And I’m getting tired of answering the very same question over and over and over again. So, I figure, if I blog about it, curious people can google.
Here’s the whole story:
I hated my pubes from the second they started growing. I had a Bobbi Starr-esque bush at 16, and I HATED it. I was so self-conscious. I refused to wear bathing suits, and boys, pssh. That wasn’t even an option. I tried waxing, but it grew back in a day. And with shaving, the stubble was so dark on my thighs it didn’t even make a difference. And the ingrowns. Boy, the ingrowns.
So, when I was 17, a laser hair removal facility opened up in town. After hearing their commercials on the radio, I went in for a quote. It was expensive. Really expensive. Especially for a 17 year old with a part-time job at the rock gym. But I so desperately wanted it. So my parents paid half the bill.
It took 2 years worth of treatments to get it to a place where I was happy.
I didn’t remove my bush for porn. I didn’t remove my bush for sex, or because of pressure from a boyfriend. I was a virgin. Sex was the farthest thing from my mind when I wrote that check.
I did it for me.
Now please, stop asking for shaving advice 🙂
Listen, I know you published this article almost a year ago, but I just saw it for the first time the other day. It’s only because you tweeted it at me. Now, I appreciate the congrats for my XRCO award, I really do. I also appreciate you doing a feature on me.
But really, I don’t appreciate being made to sound like a stupid whore. I understand your readers might prefer that type of fare, but I prefer to be a little bit more real.
(Your words in bold. My words in straight font.)
From Science Geek to Bondage Freak
Casey Calvert has always been a bad girl. Now she’s finally being punished – and she couldn’t be happier.
Actually, I’ve always been a good girl. You could even say the good girl. I think I still am, except when it comes to sex. But I’ll give you props for a cute title.
If you’re fortunate to be on a date with the lovely Casey Calvert, be forewarned: The lady is not a particularly a good kisser. Although she’s tried smooching many times over the years, she’s never been aroused by it.
At the time of printing, this was true. At the time of now, I’ve changed my mind.
It just doesn’t feel romantic. What Casey prefers on a date is to be tied up, hands and feet bound tightly behind her like a farm animal about to be branded. Then she likes a butt plug stuck in her ass. Then she likes to be whipped. Hard. With a bare hand, paddle or leather belt.
1. No bondage on a first date. Not unless they’ve been seriously vetted.
2. I actually don’t really like butt plugs, and I HATE having anything in my ass while being spanked.
3. Yes, I enjoy being whipped. With a whip. I also enjoy being spanked with a hand, paddled with a paddle, and slapped with a leather belt. Verbs, people.
Now that’s romantic.
Bondage. S&M. Domination. Humiliation. Sexual practices that all involve restraints, ropes and ball gags in conjunction with inflicting or receiving pain as part of the experience.
I’ll leave this alone, except for saying that anyone who actually understands BDSM will know why this is so wrong.
Pushing the sexual envelope is a turn-on to a lot of folks, but to Casey it’s much more. For her it’s a lifestyle choice that’s preserved her emotional health. Getting hurt is what’s made her happy.
This is true. But god, if only it was that simple.
So how does a middle-class college coed choose to become a top XXX professional purveyor of sadomasochism?
“When I was 4 years old, I started to realize I was different,” Casey explains as I accompany her to a Southern California wilderness preserve
AKA Stoney Point
for her morning rock-climbing ritual. (It keeps her limber.)
I would kill to be able to climb every morning. That would be amazing. Instead, I have a job. Also, “it keeps [me] limber?” How about, “She was a nationally ranked competitive rock climber?”
“I wanted to be tied up. Hurt. That feeling became stronger as I got older, even though I knew it was wrong. I was always thinking bad thoughts. I wanted my parents or baby-sitters to punish me.”
Yes, I probably said something close enough to this (minus the parents part, cause that’s weird) that it’s passable being in quotes even though it technically shouldn’t be. But I know I followed it up with the caveat of, “I didn’t really want them to punish me. It was all fantasy.”
But nobody did “punish” little Casey, and she kept her deep, dark desires bottled up inside her, growing up a moody child in South Florida with few friends.
1. Pretty sure not a single person, including myself, would describe me as “moody.”
2. North Florida
Her only comfort was school;
she loved, in her words, the “dependability” of science and math. Then, as fate would have it, an incident happened to Casey at the age of 12 that changed her life: A classmate showed her some gay porn on the Internet.
“It was bondage porn,” she recalls with a fond smile.
“It was not bondage porn,” she recalls with an irritated smile. “It was very vanilla, very soft, gay porn.”
“I was stunned. I thought to myself, There are actually people out there like me. Maybe I am not so weird after all.”
For several months Casey explored the various BDSM sites on the family computer,
Or the one in my room…
learning about potential outlets for her secret dirty thoughts.
That “I was stunned…” quote? That should go here. After I started looking at spanking sites. I really wasn’t into BDSM then. I was 100% spanko.
That’s when she got the idea of becoming a star in adult movies; it was the only profession, she reasoned, where she could get paid to be herself.
This is the only phrase in here that I actually like. At the time, the thought was more “the only safe way I can ever do this is by doing porn,” but, like I said, getting paid to be myself sounds nice.
adolescent had discovered a life plan that seemed to make sense.
And then everything went to hell. Her parents found out about her adult Web-cruising and freaked out. They took away Casey’s computer, scared the shit out of her by pointing out to her that she was breaking the law by viewing porn as a minor and dragged her ass (regrettably to her, still unbruised) to a shrink.
1. They didn’t take away my computer. I was just too ashamed to continue surfing.
2. I was told simply “porn is illegal”
3. It super squicks me out to think about my parents bruising my ass. That’s a sex thing for me. Saying this is no different than saying, “regrettably to her, still unfucked by her dad.” Sorry.
“I was made to think there was something wrong with me,” she says, shaking her head. “So I tried to ignore who I really was. I’d listen to my friends in school talk about their crushes on boys and try not to think about my fantasies about my teachers tying me up and punishing me.”
Oh no, I thought about those fantasies. Every. Single. Night.
Repressed and confused, Casey waited until college before she experimented with boys herself. “I did some heavy petting” she confesses.“It was out of curiosity and boredom. I got nothing out of it. It made me feel more alone than ever.”
What I am curious about is WTF is heavy petting? What I wasn’t curious about was boys. I knew I wasn’t interested. I also certainly wasn’t bored, and I take actual offense at the thought that I would experiment with sexual behavior out of boredom. That is SO not me.
Also, I did get something out of the one kiss I had that fits here on the timeline of this story. I got mono.
Then fate intervened again when Casey took a first amendment class at the University of Florida. There she learned for the second time
in her life that porn was not only acceptable; it was also an unalienable right – freedom of the press, protected under the Constitution. She went back online and never looked back.
“I finished the class just before my 21st birthday,” she explains with a smile. “It taught me that I had a choice. I could go out and get drunk like any other coed, or I could do something that was meaningful to me. I decided to give myself a meaningful present.”
After some online research, Casey gave herself a professional spanking for her 21st birthday – and loved it. “The experience validated everything I felt was different about myself. My need to be punished, my desires for punishment to stimulate me sexually, my dream of being an adult star to act out my fantasies, my whole life finally made sense to me.”
That quote is kinda, sorta, not really at all it. But thanks for the oversimplification. I’ll use that any time I want to tell a complete bs version of this story.
Casey quit college (she was a chemistry major headed to med school)
The diploma hanging on my wall right now, the one with the shiny gold magna cum laude seal? Yeah, it begs to differ. Also, film major. I did take a bunch of chemistry classes, I did do the pre-med track as well as minor in anthropology and zoology, and I do understand why chemistry major sounds better for your article… But is this necessary? Come on now.
and got a job as a porn performer, with an emphasis on bondage roles.
You left out the whole “started fetish modeling as a junior, didn’t start doing porn until months after graduation,” part, but whatev.
Sex became fun, and Casey became more relaxed as a person. She started developing more friendships and, most importantly, started walking around with a smile on her face. Her parents, both middle-class college professors,
Again, confused about why the lie is necessary.
wanted to disapprove of her new career, but they just couldn’t bring themselves to do it. Their daughter, who had forever seemed troubled,
suddenly seemed so damned happy.
After her climb, I offhandedly mention that Casey looked like a giant, graceful spider scurrying across the rocks. She grins mischievously and asks if I’d like to accompany her back to her apartment so I can observe how limber and athletic she truly is.
God, that sounds like a bad pickup line. I always use bad pickup lines on interviewers.
It turns out she’s getting ready to star in a series of adult bondage films, a remake of the Story of O,
And again, apparently we really don’t care about getting actual hard facts right. It was a 50 Shades of Grey story, the Bound by Desire trilogy from Smash Pictures.
and regularly practices with a professional bondage artist to make sure her body’s ready for the role. Luckily for me, today’s a rope-rehearsal day.
We head back to Casey’s apartment, and I meet Ms. Nikki Nefarious, who – according to her business card – is also a bondage educator. For a fee, Nikki will “teach you the dos and don’ts of tying up your loved one”—before you smack them around, of course.
I wish you could just let rope be rope for rope’s sake. Yes, some people like to combine bondage and impact play. Some people don’t.
I watch Nikki efficiently tie Casey up with heavy rope
AKA 8mm white nylon
worthy of mooring a sailboat, twisting Casey’s body into pretzel-like contortions. Casey seems unfazed.
“How are you doing?” I ask.
“Just fine,” Casey replies, as casual as if she were getting her nails done.
Actually, I was much more fine then than I ever am getting my nails done. I hate that shit.
Nikki pulls the ropes tighter and takes out a whip. She begins lashing Casey across the buttocks.
I think it was a paddle or maybe a crop. Certainly not a whip. Not in that tiny little apartment. No way. She would have broken my TV.
“How about now?” I inquire, although I’m already sure of her response.
“Oh, I’m great” Casey grins as she turns back to Nikki. “You can hit me much harder than that.”
When Casey is done with her “rehearsal,” I ask her where she imagines herself in ten years. The lady doesn’t hesitate with her reply. Now that she’s happy, her future seems clear.
“I still love science,” she tells me. “When I’m too old to do porn, I’m thinking I might go to med school.”
At the time of printing, this was true. At the time of now, I’ve changed my mind.
“But what about bondage?” I inquire. “It’s such an important part of your life.”
Yes, because doctors just can’t also be into BDSM. That’s impossible!
“Oh, that’ll never change,” Casey says. “If I get married, become a mom, a doctor, whatever, bondage and S&M will always be part of who I am. After all, I want to stay happy.”
I practice BDSM because it’s a part of who I am, and being true to myself makes me happy.So, kinda what you said. Kinda.
I love you Hustler, I really do. You’ve published some fantastic photosets of me (and an awesome interview) in Taboo.
And I’m not mad at you. I’m entertained, greatly, by what you think you need to publish to get people to read your magazine. I laughed out loud the first time I read this, and every subsequent time after that. It’s funny.
I’m just not cool with biographical fiction. I hope you don’t mind the couple of clarifications I made.
P.S. Thanks to Doug for transcribing this article for me, since Hustler has it up as a jpeg and I couldn’t copy and paste. You’re the best, Doug!
P.P.S. Dear reader, want to hear this story in my own words? Check out Coming Out Like a Porn Star an anthology from Jiz Lee, coming later this year.
P.P.P.S. The Hustler article originally posted here.