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Whilst working today, I happened to catch a glimpse of the models face.And apart from the obvious smeared make up and semen, the most striking and shocking feature was her dead eyes. And then I realized that I’d seen this on almost all the models I’d ever worked with. Eyes that have seen the unspeakable and so are unable to speak. Of pain, worthlessness and degredation. Though outwardly smiling, those inner turmoils come shining through. I am at one with them. Our journey down the same road, proves we belong together. Their very sadness lightnens my soul.
Up, down, flash! Up, down, flash! I’m feeling dizzy. There is an airy heaviness and followed by a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Flash! Someone is pushing me from behind. Flash! Peeking out I see that I’m being swung on a swing. In a children’s playground. Flash! though the day is hot and sunny, I see an old man in front with a long coat, and every time we go up, the little girls skirt rises, and he takes a picture. Jesus loves the children.
A naked woman is running. Her breast wobble and bounce. She’s covered in sweat.Round she goes. The race track stretches out infront of her like those long straight roads we see in American road trips movies. Another naked woman is waiting ahead. looking down I see that the runners feet are slowing. then I am thrust forwards to the waiting woman. I am the baton, the diaper baton. And now we are leaving the panting woman, bent over, hands on her knees. Another waits ahead of this one. My never ending life cycle.
I’m placed on the model and can look up and see a limp cock thrust into her face so that the scene can begin. I think the male talent is expecting some kind of help here, but the chick says that she’s paid for the scene and will do nothing else. The limp cock gets even limper on this news. I hear the photographer suggesting that maybe she can be alittle more accomodating. But of course, she gets paid either way……and even gets paid the same if the guy van’t perform. I must admit, I like her attitude. The day ends with me being returned to the storage room un-used. And happy.
The soothing voice of my mother wafts over me. She tells of her undying love for me. I feel her warm touch. I am her beautiful child. She promises never to leave me again. She starts to cry. My eyes well up. Through her quiet sobing she mumbles ofthe pain of seperation and talk of when we can be together forever. And then….she cals me “George”. Errrr, I’m a little taken aback. Then I feel her hand inside me. I can smell old pussy. Through the gap I spy an old woman masturbating to te photo of her dead son. There is no God. 
Once I was speaking to God. Then something happened and I could no longer hear him clearly. His voice became muffled and faint….as if someone had diapered my ears. And so they had.
In the darkness I can hear a child crying softly. How it makes my heart ache. There is an abyss and I am staring into it. The crying has stopped and all is still. A door closes. A phone rings for the longest time and goes unanswered. Now, if only death would come to me.
Woman: What kind of underwear do you like; boxers or briefs?
Man: depends….
I am told that there exist a web site where all the ordeals I have suffered are on display for all to see. To think of all those shameful videos flying around the world. All those people looking at me, fantasizing and then jerking off. The very idea fills me with shame.
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