From Nude to Naughty

For some reason, I don’t remember my first ever adult shoot but I do remember the second. It was for a top shelf magazine publication and, as though to confirm his credentials to me, the photographer insisted on showing me some of his previous work before we started shooting. This basically just involved images of him being sucked off by Eastern European girls with poorly applied eye make-up.  Him showing me those pictures pissed me off a bit because really, what is the polite response when what is effectively an employer shows you a picture of his penis before he’s even offered you a cup of tea? If you worked in an office and your boss sidled over to you and asked you to check out his dick pics that would be a whole different ball game (pun probably intended) but because in the adult industry you work naked around other people who are still clothed, boundaries and social norms can often get blurred.

There are no clear cut or set boundaries and you sort of get immune to that kind of thing pretty quickly too. There’s been a few occasions where I haven’t pulled people up on things like that that I haven’t found appropriate purely because we are now about to spend four hours in each other’s company and I’d rather not start off with any awkwardness. That and I don’t drive so I’m always relying on a lift back to the train station from them.

At that point of my burgeoning “adult career” I was still somewhat on edge about being naked around strangers. One of the sets for the shoot was a kind of abandoned warehouse set up with a lot of bashed up cardboard boxes scattered around and polythene sheets tacked to the wall. When I came into the room the first thing I was aware of was this odd chemically burning smell and I thought “OMG, its that stuff people put on a rag to knock you out”. I suddenly had all these images of myself passing out “Saw” style and waking up stuffed inside a cardboard box in the middle of nowhere after he’d had his wicked way with me but it turned out it was just the weird smell that baby oil made when it hit the polythene. I have a very overactive imagination.

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My third ever shoot, I had a very hands on photographer who decided I was still too new to the whole posing and modelling game to be able to understand what “can you turn a little to the left for me?” could possibly mean and insisted on coming over and physically maneuvering me into positions. On noticing the mole I have at the very top of my thigh right by my vagina he even said “oh, you have a mole here” and proceeded to touch it. I so wish I was the person I am now back then. If he even dared tried to do that now I’d snap his fucking wrist but I was silly then and nervous and worried I wouldn’t get paid so I didn’t say anything. Even he knew he’d been too much as when I got home after the shoot he text me saying “hope I wasn’t too forward”. Forward!? Forward is what you’d call yourself if you were on a DATE and accidentally started talking about wedding dresses before your drinks order had arrived. We were supposed to have a working relationship over the few hours we were together, it was never going to go anywhere else so nothing you did or said should have been able to be misconstrued as “forward”.

Looking back, I have no idea why I didn’t take all these bad experiences as an omen and stop. I need to stress at this point that not ALL photographers are bad people or try their luck. The absolute vast majority are nothing but professional, good, kind people who I genuinely enjoyed working with but I did have bad experiences and I wish I’d stopped there before I got further into an industry that I never really wanted to be in. Ironically, the further you go up the “porn chain” and the more hardcore things get, the more immune to nudity people get and those behind the cameras are consummate professionals. It was those who teetered on the precipice of pussy who tended to be awkward and make me feel awkward.

At this point the guy I was seeing was quite religious – I don’t know if I was a personal project of salvation or what he was doing with me but he did keep asking me if I’d considered finding Jesus. I told him that unless Jesus was gonna open all those church collection boxes and pay my rent for me then I’ve have to keep shooting. Then off I’d trot with my leopard print suitcase that I never bothered unpacking because I was only going to have to repack it the next day, to trundle off to yet another station to get yet another train to Kent or Surrey or Milton Keynes, to wear the exact same outfits and go through the same rigmarole the next day.  Me and him didn’t last long. I have a feeling he was coming to see me on a Tuesday and a Thursday then spending three hours repenting for it in Confession on a Sunday. At least I kept his priest busy.

I’d started being published quite regularly in top shelf magazines at that time and, I can’t lie, I did get a bit of a thrill to see myself in print. Okay I know nobody really “reads” them anymore and the kind of people who do buy them aren’t really the sort of people I’d want to be in any contact with but I still bought any copy I was in. Can’t say I was all that thrilled with the captions tho; one poster of me smeared in cake was captioned “Squirt your goo up my gash”. I appreciate the subtlety of this one; there’s a lot to be said for slow-burning erotic literature. It’s almost poetic. I reckon the writers at those mags have a piss about at the office though and see how much they can get away with, knowing full well no one ever reads the couple of lines of texts that introduce each girl. I once had a text box next to me talking about how my breasts were like “floury ciabattas from God’s own oven” and that one did make me chuckle.

One of my worst ever shoots was with a guy who, looking back, probably thought all his Christmases had come at once when I agreed to his shoot concept. I can’t stress enough how skint I was at this point. At times I was literally living off pennies. The irony is I was out every night in the West End, drinking Grey Goose and regularly staying in some of the top hotels in London and then I’d come back home to my depressing little bedroom in East London and have to go and ask in my local shop if they could change my coppers into silver so I could try and put a couple of quid in ten pence pieces on my Oyster card to get to shoots.

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I wasn’t living hand to mouth I was chomping all my fingers right off in desperation. I had no business sense, no idea what I was doing and was sometimes doing eight-hour round trips for a two-hour shoot just to come home with £60.  I was constantly skim reading e-mails until I found the £ sign,  factoring the payment into my weekly budget and agreeing to the shoot so that by the time I’d actually get to the shoot and realised what we’d be doing, in my mind I’d have already paid my phone bill and some of my rent with that money and I didn’t know what else to do but go along with it.

Desperation does some fucked up things to people and this shoot was fucking awful. It was horrible. I should have just gone home but I needed the money.

He told me he was an ex-medical student and although I’d like to think I’ve never been naïve, looking back at when he told me that my stretchmarks might be down to tight jeans, I should have realised he probably hadn’t ever really been a doctor. His shoot concept was to put those old fashioned labels that are black with white typewriter type on them all over my “lady parts”, first of all with all the slang words for those body parts like “tits”, “nips”, “fanny”, “quim” etc and then take them all off and re label me with all the anatomically correct words for those body parts. He labelled the inside of the vagina too, like the vulva. I lay there with a man between my legs, his hands on my vagina as he stuck these stupid fucking labels on my most intimate parts. He was so close I felt sick but the only way I could focus past that was to keep talking about anything but what we were doing and keep staring up at the ceiling. He asked me if I’d go into the toilets and “have a little play” to make certain parts of my vagina more prominent for the photos and I’m so glad I at least said no to that. That photographer sent me an e-mail a year later to tell me how aroused he’d been working with me. I’m attaching that e-mail into this text post and oh how I’d love to be able to expose him but unfortunately I’d then be the one in trouble for putting his details online and so I have removed his e-mail address and his name from our correspondence.

 

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What a c*nt and what a pathetic lie. Things like that make me feel sick but I try not to dwell on it. If I had to dwell on every bad thing a man has ever done to me I’d never get anything else done.

Even though I was shooting every day, I was still so insecure and awkward. I did one of my first shoots abroad in Europe and was working with this beautiful Polish girl who brought her husband along too. Within the first hour of arriving I’d been ordered into the bath and had to sit and scrub every inch of fake tan off myself using a loofah and tea tree face scrub. I was mortified and instantly in a bit of a tizz because I felt like I was holding everyone up and no-one really spoke to me much anyway because I didn’t speak Czech or Polish. People just keep strolling in at random, gawping at the colour of my bath water then shaking their heads and leaving again, whilst I desperately scoured away at my skin.

We actually had to do one ridiculous shoot in the same bath – it had been rinsed out by this point –  in which we had to wear plastic kagouls and pretend to be sexy. I’d never actually modelled with someone else before and I couldn’t really work out the dynamic. I just felt frumpy and awkward besides this lithe, yoga toned goddess who could snap from pose to pose effortlessly and look fucking hot and the stupid bloody coats I was engulfed in didn’t help. Some men tell me “you’d look good in a bin bag”, which is not only a very unoriginal compliment but also could not be further from the truth, as pictures of me grinning inanely and awkwardly in a baggy plastic raincoat will prove. The model’s husband seemed to enjoy it though as he suddenly started talking to me after a weekend of ignoring me and asked if I’d ever considered visiting Poland.

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Our next shoot was a twenty-minute oil massage shoot. Neither myself nor the other model actually did any “girl/girl” work or anything other than open leg levels so it’s actually quite hard work trying to stretch out rubbing someone’s back and tits for twenty long oil filled minutes. The cameraman looked like Crabbe or Goyle from Harry Potter and insisted that I wasn’t putting enough oil on myself before we started shooting and that he’d have to apply it for me. I don’t know what it is about photographers assuming that I can’t follow the simplest of instructions and feel that they have to take over. “That’s enough”, I told him. “No, it’s not”, he quipped. Oh, hilarious. So you have enough English to make jokes but not enough to make any conversation with me all weekend. Thank you for making me feel so welcome.

During the shoot, Crabbe advised me to move in front of the other model a bit so that my boobs were more in shot.

“Oh, so her breasts are more important than mine?” the other model joked.

Crabbe (or Goyle) couldn’t have looked more shocked if he’d discovered Malfoy naked under Harry’s invisibility cloak. “No way!” he gasped, in genuine shock, “yours are much better!”

Her husband – who’d insisted he had to sit in on the shoot because he was her manager – was quick to agree and I was treated to what I can only imagine was a discussion of the merits of her tits over my own for five minutes in multiple languages while she preened and I pretended to be deciphering the ingredients on the label of the oil bottle. Surprised they didn’t invite the owner of the company and his cleaning lady in too to give their input on my inadequate breasts. Literally could not wait to get back on the plane home from that one.

Another shoot that sticks in my mind was with a photographer who claimed he and his wife had made a fortune from porn in the 80s but that didn’t think I should ever get into it all as I wasn’t “sexualised” enough. That was fucking laughable considering I’d already slept with four men that week and it was only Wednesday but I kept my gob shut in case he thought I was coming on to him. I can’t remember what we actually shot but he cut the shoot short to show me some bukkake videos from parties he attended and would I be interested in letting nine strangers empty their balls on my face? I politely declined but he was not to be deterred. His next attempt was to show me a Facebook profile of a hench bodybuilder type who was really keen to get into shooting porn (said every man I’ve ever spoken to, ever). The photographer said he’d love to get us together because “basically, I’d like to see you get fucked”. Some men consider that to be a genuine compliment. Better than being told my tits are crap, I suppose.

36 Comments

  1. Wow…better out than in. Still mightily impressed and flattered that you’re willing to share these insights with us, and I am shaking my head and facepalming (not at the same time) at some of the ‘men’ you had to work with.

  2. I think this is such a powerful blog. Obviously I found it because I am a fan of your work but now I feel guilty. I had no idea how depressing this must have been for you. And for the record I remember the pink and yellow plastic macs shoot. You never looked like you were having a bad day so my hat is off to you… thank you for being so open and honest.

    • JayeRose

      March 7, 2016 at 2:30 pm

      Hi – thank you for your kind words. Please don’t feel guilty tho! I think some of my posts have given men the wrong impression- there is absolutely nothing wrong with watching porn or lusting over models and I have absolutely no issue with men who watch porn. I watch porn! These are just my personal experiences and I have no-one but myself to blame for involving myself in an industry I didn’t think I’d end up in.

  3. It takes courage to speak out about those horrible experiences, so good for you on pulling back the curtain again. Reading your blog is a refreshing expose on the industry, and one person’s journey through it, so I’m glad you made it through it with your health and well-being in one piece. This chapter in particular challenges the reader to examine our own role as consumers of the increasingly-misnamed glamour modelling business.
    Maybe reading your blog on a quiet Sunday morning provokes more thoughts than usual, but I am glad you took the time to put it out there. Oh, and you still have a wicked sense of humour!
    Take care and have a relaxing Sunday.

  4. Someone needs to explain to me how you get to have sex with four men in just three days. That seems like a lot in such little time….My ! you were on a rampage there, Jaye.

  5. “Shoot your goo in my gash”?

    Call me naive, but I’m shocked that that’s the kind of language used in smutty mags. Like you say, they probably don’t care because nobody would really read it, but it’s just so unsexy.

  6. Hello Jaye, hope all is well with you

    Amazing blog, I have really enjoyed reading. Your stories have made me smile the way you handle things and had me in disbelief at what people ask you and how the odd photographer treated you.

    A very pretty woman, who’s humorous and has a load of life experience, I’m certainly looking forward to your next blog. Until then take care

    Steven xx

    • JayeRose

      March 7, 2016 at 2:29 pm

      Thank you 🙂

      That really means a lot. I have been very, very personal with this blog but it felt right. X

  7. Have you considered writing a novel based on your experiences? You can use your imagination and make everything either weirder or more exciting as you wish. You have the sense of humor for it and your writing style makes for a good read. Give it some thought!

  8. Did the desperation ever stop? Where there any “good time?”
    – or am I just jumping ahead, like someone skipping to chapter 9.

    • JayeRose

      March 7, 2016 at 1:28 pm

      Haha, yeah sorry this is all a bit doom and gloom at the minute! I didn’t realise how depressive it would all look, written down but am kind of setting the scene first and once the foundations are laid, things should perk up!

  9. Charley Chase

    March 7, 2016 at 8:36 pm

    Jaye, your blog initially promised to be a titillating Carry On-style exposé of the adult entertainment industry, but has shifted gear into what reads like a survivor’s account of trauma. It’s so admirable that your words puncture the image of supposedly sex-crazed porn dollies and show that these are in fact feeling, thinking young women, some horrendously exploited. I confess, my keenness to read your next post is slightly diminished by a feeling of complicity as one who enjoys pornography (and has enjoyed yours). But bring it on.

    • JayeRose

      March 8, 2016 at 10:42 am

      Hiya – thank you so much for reading and for your kind words. Its all come out a bit darker than I’d envisioned when I first started writing but there will be easier reading parts too! I think I’ve given completely the wrong idea with what I’ve written so far in that I don’t have any issue at all with men who watch porn or interact with models etc, I just didn’t want to be involved in it but its no-one’s fault by my own that I got so entrenched in it all.

  10. Laurence Brown

    March 8, 2016 at 12:47 am

    Fascinating, up or down, a compelling read. It’s nearly 1am, I should be in bed! You are a natural born writer.

  11. Donkey Lovin'

    March 8, 2016 at 7:13 pm

    Really interesting stuff Jaye, and you make a good point about what’s acceptable for a man to say and do in that industry as compared to other jobs.

    Did you ever watch the C4 documentary ‘Hardcore’?
    In it a film crew followed a young girl from Essex to the US where she hoped to make a name for herself in the industry. She had very clear guidelines about what she would and wouldn’t do, but as soon as she was met at the airport – by her agent or manager, I forget which – he was attempting to coerce her into doing more than she was comfortable with. It made for some unpleasant viewing.

    Eventually she was taken to the now-infamous Max Hardcore for a brief chat about possibly working with him. She knew nothing about him and, if she had, would’ve known that his usual work involved pretty much everything she’d stated she wouldn’t do.
    Within seconds of meeting him he announced that his motto was “we’re not happy until you’re not happy”, and he was handling her like a piece of meat, pulling up her skirt, pulling down her shirt, and groping her. He then rubbed baby oil on her hands and got her to give him a handjob, before then having sex with her over a pool table.
    All this was in front of the documentary crew’s cameras. The girl looked equal parts horrified and terrified.
    I remember wondering if this was normal behaviour for a porn “audition” and rather hoping that it wasn’t. From what you say, it seems that I may have been wrong.
    For some reason the girl agreed to film a scene with him too, and the subsequent scene in the documentary was very disturbing. Eventually the documentary crew escorted the girl away thinking that if they didn’t they’d have been complicit in her rape. Awful stuff.

    I feel like I should end on a positive after that. Suffice to say, the “floury ciabattas” line is a classic!

    • Jesus – I remember seeing that documentary myself. The girl was called Felicity, I believe, and she was really badly looked after by the industry ‘professionals’ (her manager / agent, etc), and it was really uncomfortable viewing indeed. She noted that Max basically said ‘Hi’, then stuck his dick in her without so much as her consent; less ‘audition’, more rape I’d say. If I recall rightly, there was another segment of that documentary (or maybe another C4 documentary – they’ve got form for this kind of thing) with some young girl having to film some scenes with Jim Slip because it was nearly Christmas, her boyfriend was unemployed, and they had two kids. Heartbreaking stuff.

      Given that porn is basically the construction of a fantasy, it’s a real education to see things from the other side of the looking glass. More recently, the Netflix documentary ‘Hot Girls Wanted’ shows how young, relatively poor (and in some cases, relatively uneducated) women find themselves lured into the industry with the promise of glamour, adventure and major cash, only to become broken and disillusioned very quickly. Female ‘pro-am’ starlets have an industry expectancy of two to three months. What many forget (or choose to ignore) is that thanks to the inter-web, their on-screen actions will live on far longer. I’d honestly be interested to find out how / if any of it ends up on a CV or resume, particularly if it’s been a full-time occupation for 12 or so months.

      I kinda feel like I need to end on a positive note myself, now. C4 also did a documentary called ‘Pornography: The Musical’, which included Faye Rampton singing about a bukkake scene. Surreal stuff.

      • JayeRose

        April 4, 2016 at 5:43 am

        I tend to stay away from the “behind the scenes” documentaries, purely because they tend to depress me! That musical sounds hilarious though, that may definitely be worth me checking out.

  12. Yet another great post! As others have mentioned it gives you an awkward kind of guilt for enjoying your previous work reading these. Keep up the good work. It’s good to see that the experience has clearly made you stronger rather than break you.

  13. I’d like to thank you for sharing your experience behind the scenes it has given me a different perspective on the industry

    • JayeRose

      April 4, 2016 at 5:40 am

      Thank you although please don’t let it put you off enjoying the industry as a whole just because I personally didn’t enjoy it!

  14. Very very interesting read. I feel for you. At the time you started this line of work it was what wanted to do as the saying once told to me is we where all “young an dumb full off cum” but now older an wiser we look back at are silly mistakes. I can understand your change of heart and stop. We all have had to make decisions in life some very difficult ones. I for one have to make a serious one which was very hard for me to do and that was give up my son to be adopted it broke my heart. I either gave up work and become single a parent and raise him or carrying on working he was sixth months old. Me an ex-partner did not connect very well at the best of times and she was not able to raise him given she had history already from first child my son’s half elder brother who currently lives with his dad I could see him living the life of a single parent struggling. Hence the serious decision. Anyway I am rambling on here lol. I hope that you find forgiveness in my stupidity for sending you rude pictures to you. I felt really bad for that and was kicking my self for it. yours Ross Hard. xx

  15. First of all, sorry for my english.

    I just want to tell you that you have to keep writing this blog. This is giving to the people who doesn’t know the porn industry a different look at it, different than the one brought by the PC pornstar interviewed on some mainstream media (in France there is no taboo inviting some pornstar or ex pornstar to a mainstream show or to hire her as a TV presenter), saying “I absolutly love(d) the business, they are all nice, it was a nice way to express my sexuality. And the best is that they really respect women, yeah I feel safe”.

    Sure on the big porn companies I guess the girls are treated well, better mb. But as far as I know 90% of internet porn is not some kind of Dorcel stuff.

    Anyway there’s a lot to say about this blog, but the only thing I want to tell you is keep it up.

  16. People do need to be reminded that the “entertainment” industry can be way beyond rough. A post from a recently reminded me when he described how a girl was in a lot of pain from a recent hard core shoot, yet smiled for the camera. I’m a person who likes to see beautiful women, but I don’t enjoy sex films, since I can’t help but think how they are being mistreated.
    I have even tried to help girls get out of being ‘dancers’ by taking a girl into my apartment with the understanding that she was going to get her GED and a better job so she could get her little girl back. But after several months of her making no move toward the GED, we parted ways.
    Jaye, I do want to thank you for the reminder how rough it can be for the women and girls trying to make a few dollars in a rough industry. I have always been a fan of your work and an happy that you seem to be getting out with a well balanced head and your health.

    We as viewers of this kind of entertainment would do well to think about the models and try to promote their being treated better. However unlikely that is to ever happen.

  17. Oh, and you do need to think about writing to make a living. You do it very well. If you can act, you might think of that. There are several former adult workers making a living as actors.

  18. Have you stopped writing then or what? More please.

    I didn’t like your porn much (I prefer content where the lady is clearly enjoying it and I don’t think that can be mimicked very well) but I do like reading this blog.

    • JayeRose

      April 6, 2016 at 10:31 am

      Oh, I’m kind of surprised – I didn’t think I looked like I wasn’t enjoying it? Particularly as for a large portion of it I actually was? I didn’t enjoy the industry as a whole but I do enjoy sex…

      Will be back writing soon 🙂 thank you for reading & am so glad you’re enjoying it.

      • Sorry I didn’t mean you to take that as a slight…. I prefer content where the lady is ‘REALLY’ enjoying it i.e. she is getting off a lot and the focus is on her pleasure…. very little conventional studio pornography is like that.

  19. Oh man, i remember both of those photo shoots (the rain coat
    and the oil massage).
    I believe they were for DDF, if i’m not mistaken.
    And, trust me, your boobs were way better than the other models!

    Now i’ll never be able to look at these pictures the same way
    again, haha.

    I love your humor and insight in these blogs.

  20. The sleaze is pretty thick in any modeling that I’ve heard of from those who’ve been willing to share. Adult modeling being often near the top of the sleaze pyramid. Trouble being, the easy money seen with those being shown they have marketable assets in marketing sexual fantasy and those that are willing to pay for that to try and fill voids in their own lives as fantasy that often overtake reality.

    I don’t see porn on the whole as being what many critics deem it as, misogynistic in nature for example, but I do see it much like junk food from a McDonalds. Assuming you can control your appetite for it, and you can afford it (in whatever relationship you have or don’t have) it’s fine on occasion. I just don’t think the male mind as the gauge here is really designed around occasional junk sex fantasy consumption. So I do think it does tend to do a serious bit of collateral damage, for the majority involved, model to consumer. I’d bet body parts on over half of [porn] fans being what amount to junkies of a sort.

    While I’m sure it’s a mixed message, I disagree with you’re saying there’s nothing wrong with consuming it, but I don’t see it as inherently bad. I rather regard it much the same as drugs, if you’re of age, and properly informed it’s no one else’s right to dictate to you what you can or can’t do if it’s not directly impacting someone else’s rights. As a major additional impact though, I’m certain the average 12 year old now with a sliver of tech-savy has now been exposed to more porn than I was at 23 some years back.

    I’d encourage you or anyone with any interest to view (with grains of salt) http://fightthenewdrug.org/get-the-facts/ , while I think their view of “sex trafficking” is playing it fast and loose with the terminology, as that brings to mind children or migrant women being promised a good life in the western world if they do dirty deeds, they classify it as anyone coerced or manipulated at all, but there are some valid points to what it often does to the mind of those that view with any frequency. I’m pretty sure I’m in that group, not that I’ll go into it, there are plenty of blogs and such from others that know they’re addicts of this type. It would likely just be like watching just about anything on skynews over again, cringe-worthy.

    I’m still reading on here, so bare with me (so to speak), but I’ve so far not seen a mention even in the comment replies of when, who, or how you came about wanting to do adult/nude …Nevermind, I’ve gone on to read a bunch more entries now, mystery solved, scooby snacks doled out, meddling kids back in the van.

    Glad I actually decided to bother to check tumblr now to see what happened to you, as I think this will give not only some sordid insights into this industry (if any were in question previously), but (reading on now) will give at least a glimmer into the personality of the person that I’ve enjoyed (a lot) seeing nude. So far you don’t seem to be the crazy you’ve painted yourself as in some of your posts. I may have to throw a case of earl gray into a nearby harbor just out of recreated spite the U.K. gets to keep you.

    I’ll try to keep this under Victor Hugo length, but I hope the A.D.’s you’re taking aren’t just masking something you might want to confront; but if you think it helps you I hope that it does, sincerely.

    As always, best wishes from the east coast across the pond Ms. Rose.

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