Tuesday, March 2, 2010

I was a teenaged Porn Star!

I was a teenaged porn star. Yep, you read that right. It may surprise you to know that I was married to a 32 year old woman when I was 15. You may have read it in one of my previous blogs. What I rarely mention is the fact that when I left her, and ran away to Chicago, at age 16, I was sucked into a life of adult entertainment, and I became the center of it all, for a brief, fifteen minutes of infamy.




Okay, so maybe you’re not shocked at all. Maybe you knew about my porno past. Maybe that’s why you added me, lol. If you’re like most of the people who follow me online, you just figure that I’m taking my rightful place in the world of sex, lies and videotape. I mean, seriously, who doesn’t have a sex tape these days? Only I’ve had these sex tapes following me around for over two decades. So I guess you could say I’m a pioneer of that sort of thing. Either way, I’m not ashamed of doing what I had to do to survive. Behind every porn star, there is a human being with a beating heart that can be broken. Allow me to explain.



I introduced my readers to my brother William as my only full blooded sibling who was younger and gayer than me. Unfortunately, it was in a blog about his untimely and mysterious death at the age of 28. William was 2 years younger than me, and when I left our home in Kentucky, he couldn’t wait to follow me to any city I ended up in. Before his 16th birthday, he told my mother that he was gay, and she allowed him to move to Chicago with me. I’d already dropped out of high school for the second time, and was washing dishes at a pancake house to keep a drab apartment for myself. His needs were greater than I could have met without taking drastic action. I started working a sugar daddy for money. It was a game. He was in the closet. He wanted sex. He wanted to control me with his money, so I let him think that he could. It paid the bills, and it fed my little brother. Most importantly, it kept William off the streets, where he was rapidly meeting hustler boys, as I washed dishes well into the evening at work. It wasn’t until I discovered that William had turned his first trick that I realized what a bad example I had been setting for him.



The look on my little brothers face was guilty. I knew it from the time I first laid eyes on him. As an infant, I studied his every expression, looking for all those thing in him that resemble me. There was so much we had in common, including our sexuality. And so it was easy for me to figure out what he was hiding, and even where he was hiding it. I reached down into his pants and pulled a twenty dollar bill from his underwear. As I held it up to the bathroom light and looked my little brother straight in the eye, I said these words to him, as tears flooded my face.



“I know that I’m a horrible big brother. I understand that you want more than I can give you right now. I love you more than anything in the world, but I cannot allow you to sell your body for money.”



William looked into my eyes, and his face filled with anger and shame. He said, “Chaz, what I just did for this money is no different from what you’re doing with your sugar daddy.”



To which I replied, “Baby brother, I am doing whatever I have to do to take care of you, so that you never have to do what it is that I am doing. I would sell my body. I would sell my soul, if it meant that you didn’t have to give up your innocence the way I did, a long time ago.”



And then I took that twenty dollar bill and I threw it in the toilet, and I flushed it. William never, ever let me forget that day, and I never will. Partly because, that day was repeated several more times, in different cities, over the years. After a bad break up, William would come to me in Miami, with no other place to go. I’d take him in again. During one, desperate month, I had come up very short on my finances. There was no way I was going to be able to even cover the rent, and we were looking at eviction. We had been surviving on pizza and hot dogs. Something had to give, and it was me. I got a call from an old friend who was producing a porno video and they were looking for actors. I thought about it for a couple of days, and my grumbling stomach made the decision for me. I was gonna be a porn star!!!!!





It wasn’t my first time taking my clothes off in front of a bunch of strangers. On my 18th birthday, photographer Dan DeLeo, of Gay Chicago magazine fame, (God rest his soul), snapped the first ever, nude photos of me. The shots were intended for a safe sex calendar that Deleo was planning, which would attract the attention of gay men, and teach them how to practice safe sex. All sex was simulated, and the photos were more artistic than they were pornographic in nature. Unfortunately, Dan died before he could ever get the project fully launched, and so the photos of me are probably collecting dust somewhere in an old Gay Chicago archive. What it did for me, was open up my mind to the fact that the human body is a beautiful thing. I’m not saying that my body was particularly beautiful. In fact, it was so frail, and so thin that rumors were often spread that I had full blown AIDS. Perhaps the most amazing aspect of this entire blog is the fact that I did not ever contract HIV/AIDS. This can only be attributed to safer sex and lots of good luck. Most porn stars I worked with are long dead by now.



So, I flew to Toledo, Ohio, at the ripe old age of 19, to appear in my first gay porn video. It was quite an impressive setup they had. Loads of hi tech equipment, cameras, filters, lenses, bright lights and such. I was instantly greeted as a celebrity, and I hadn’t even spoken my first cheesy line yet. I was given a hotel suite, VIP access with unlimited drinks at the best gay bar in town, and $1,200 for two days of shooting a 3 way scene. Since my co stars were brunettes, I went platinum blonde, to match my Miami tan, and really stood out in the scene. The video got picked up for International distribution, and there was no turning back. I didn’t think of it as selling my soul to the devil. I thought of it as the saving grace that would feed my brother and me. The bills got paid, we were fed, and we both settled down with wealthy boyfriends for a while. All was fine and dandy in our worlds, until Hollywood…..



If you’ve never been to Hollywood, then you may not know just how filthy it really is. It’s the one place, in the world, that I could absolutely spend the rest of my life without ever returning to, and not feel anything at all. It’s cold, and cruel, and fake, and stuck up. It’s a cheap John, at the end of the bar, pretending to play a violin, as a hustler explains his need for cash. It’s just that ugly. Things had been going so well for me. My new boyfriend loved me, and I loved him, more than I loved his money. Still, I had kept a secret from him. I didn’t want him to know that I was a porn actor. Unfortunately, for me, he discovered this fact on his own, one day, and he kicked me out. After liquidating my every asset, and finding myself nearly homeless, once again, at the age of 21, I moved to Hollywood, California. William was living there with a former porn star named Jason Cruz. Dogs weren’t allowed in their apartment, so I took my Yorkie and moved in with a friend of William’s. I got a job as a phone sex actor. I’d sit in a cubicle, in a room full of guys and gals. We would tap into a 900 number that people would spend $4.99 a minute to call, and our job was to keep those people on the line as long as possible. This way, the company made more money. I was on the gay line. Most of the callers would listen to me talk about all the nasty things I wanted to do to them, and hang up as soon as they got off. We did have our regular callers though. There was this guy named Stewey that I got off in at least seven different accents. He never had a clue that he was getting off with the same guy, every night. He thought he was phone sexing a Hindu guy at a 7-11, or a Southern teen who’s in the closet, or an illegal alien who will do anything for his willing white master, if you promise him a green card. I knew how to make some shit up. It really developed my acting skills, even though I no longer pursue an acting career. But it wasn’t enough to pay the bills. It wasn’t long before my roommate asked me to move out and I ended up in a crappy motel, where I could pay by the week. Growing thinner by the day from malnutrition, I knew I had to do something. William had decided to break up with his boyfriend and quit his job, all on the same day, and move into the motel room with me. This was the day that I met Jonny Johnston, porno agent.



Jonny was the classic scumbag type that you’d imagine. He was just fucking creepy! His apartment smelled of dried cum, and young, spaced out, gay and bi boys floated from room to room, smoking pot. That day, Jonny got me high on weed, took some Polaroid snapshots and got me to sign over a large percentage of my future earnings to him. He tried to go down on me, but I respectfully declined. Under no circumstances would I ever be allowing this man to touch me. The only touching anyone would be doing to me, in the future, would be that which put money into my bank account. Jonny got me a string of gay porn gigs, and a photo session before he realized that he was never getting into my pants, and then, he just stopped trying to find me work at all. My immune system had suffered, as a result of starvation, and I caught the worst flu I’d ever had in my life. It could have been pneumonia, for all I know. I couldn’t afford a doctor, so I had to ride it out. I missed over a week of work, and I was fired. My world was collapsing, and I didn’t know where to turn. I had met a man on my flight to Hollywood who lived in Chicago. He begged me to visit him. At this time, I had no choice. I left William behind with the last few dollars I had, and promised I would get him a ticket to Chicago within a week or two, to join me.



Within 2 weeks, I had managed to get myself a job, stripping at a dirty bar, and convinced a 75 year old man to rent an apartment for my dog, in exchange for sleeping in his bed. A week later, I dumped the old man, moved into the apartment, and invited William to come and live with me. I was shocked and saddened to learn that William didn’t want to come and live with me. He had introduced himself to my former porn agent, Jonny Johnston, and then, moved in with him. William gave Jonny the sex I never would, and in return, Jonny got William a contract with Vivid video. It was the chance to be the next big name in the porn industry, and it was all going great, until William accused Jonny of ripping him off. Once that happened, it was all over. William breeched his contract with Vivid, after only one video scene, took the $10,000 cash and came to Chicago to find me. Neither of us ever did another porn video after that.



Now, what you may have noticed is that I haven’t told you my porn name. It’s very easy to find, if you’re so inclined to dig. However, I must state that I do not approve of the gay porn industry. No, I’m not saying that gay porn is bad. It’s the people who produce them that I have a problem with. They make millions of dollars from these videos, and the actors get paid shit. It is exploitative. The gay porn industry doesn’t give a fuck about LGBT rights or equality. They only care about the freedom of expression they use to trap young, starving men in a world of sex, drugs and prostitution. I don’t want you buying these videos and putting money into that industry. I don’t want my young viewers to think there is anything glamorous about porn either. There’s not. It’s hard work, you will never live it down, and you don’t get fairly compensated. If I had been presented with any other, viable option that would have fed my brother and myself, and kept a roof over our heads, I would have taken it. Unfortunately, for me, that was not the case. At the same time, I don’t regret doing what I had to do to survive.

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