Chapter 1: The Interview
"Hi Kelly," said Martin Felt from behind the camera. He had a low, soothing voice. "Welcome to Distressed Dilettantes." Martin was older, in his late fifties, but he still kept fit. He had reason to think he was reasonably attractive.
Kelly Langston, Martin's latest find, was sitting at the foot of a king-sized bed. The perky blue-eyed blonde looked very young, like she could be in junior high school. She waved at the camera with the fingers of one hand and said, "Hi," in a high, soft voice. Her tale of the tape right before the shoot put her at 4'11" with 34" B-cup breasts, a 22" waist, and 34" hips. That would look good on the website. She couldn't weigh more than 80 pounds dripping wet. Her nipples stood erect against her Calvin and Hobbes t-shirt.
Martin always made sure the set was a little chilly at the start of a shoot. The lights and whatnot warmed the place up fast. Her legs, in a pair of tight bluejeans, were tightly, nervously crossed. Her legs were so short, they dangled. She was wearing black socks. Martin had asked her before starting the camera to take her boots off and get comfortable. She'd seen no reason to object. "And how old are you?" asked Martin.
"I'm nineteen years old," answered Kelly.
"Okay, this is the part where you hold up your driver's license and social security card for us," said Martin. "That's good. You can put them away now." She fussed with her wallet. She finally threw them into her purse, closed it, and put it on the floor. "Can you tell us why you're here today, Kelly?" asked Martin.
"I'm here for an interview," Kelly ventured.
"What kind of interview?" asked Martin.
"An interview... about... my sex life?" Kelly stammered.
"An honest interview," said Martin. "You know I can tell if you're lying, right?"
"I won't try to stupidly lie," said Kelly a bit resignedly, looking straight at the camera.
"Okay, here's $250." Martin handed over the cash. "You'll get the other half at the end of the interview."
"Okay," said Kelly. She paused to open her purse and stuff the five fifties into her wallet. She closed everything and looked at the camera.
"First question," said Martin. "What made you want to talk about your sex life on camera?"
"The... money?" said Kelly.
"Other than that," said Martin.
"I don't know... um," said Kelly. "A lot of things. I quit my job last week because it's too many hours for school and not enough money. I need to quickly pay my room and board soon or they'll kick me out of the dorm. I tried to urgently get financial aid or a student loan, but that's a long shot because of my parent's debt."
"We met when you were waiting in line outside the financial aid center, didn't we?"
"Yes, you and your flyers. I'd seen you around before."
Kelly found one of Martin's flyers during freshman orientation. It was up on a telephone pole across the street from the university gates. She remembered being astonished and frightened. It was seedy-looking, printed in black and white on neon card stock, and had been rained upon. It said, "Women: Having money problems? Need cash? It's easy to make $500 to $5,000 in only a few hours of your time. We will pay you $500 just for a candid video interview. Just answer a few personal questions and walk away minutes later with $500 or more in your pocket! Does it sound too good to be true? Call (897) 383-5268 and hear how easily your money problems can vanish." There was a line of tear-off phone numbers across the bottom, and some of them had been torn off! It gave her a nervous feeling in her abdomen.
In her dorm hall's shared toilet stall that night, she played with herself. She ran the back of her electric shaver across her clitoris thinking about the consequences of the mangled flyer. She thought about the nasty lost girls who tore off those numbers. She thought about what they had been forced to do to get that cash. She imagined herself outside student services with her checking account overdrawn. She would have only one day left to pay her tuition, room, and board. She imagined the football player who usually sat in front of her in English Lit. He was probably one of their performers. She would have to suck his dick. It was way too big, and he would force it deeper than she'd ever had to before. Then he'd pick her up off the floor and yank down her panties. "No!" she'd cry, but then they'd wave a huge wad of bills at her. She knew she would need it all to avoid losing her dorm room, her classes, and her future. She grabbed the wad of cash and closed her eyes. As she felt her well-hung classmate's erect penis slide between her thighs, she came explosively with a grunt. Luckily, she was sitting on the open toilet, so the mess mostly dripped into there.
The flyers were a nasty campus fixture, positing an evil, exploitative underworld hovering just outside the university gates. They would go up everywhere overnight and then slowly be torn down piecemeal by the campus police. She would give herself a thrill that would later fuel one of her late night bathroom visits. She would surreptitiously tear off a number, or sometimes take the whole flyer. Months later, but still in her freshman year, she'd noticed Martin walking around campus putting up the flyers. She'd been disappointed that he'd looked so banal.
"Yes, I remember seeing you waiting in line," said Martin. "My eyes were instantly drawn to you."
"You accosted me," Kelly complained, and then looked down at her stockinged feet, smiling gently.
"I just said 'hey beautiful,' and you are a very beautiful young lady, Kelly," said Martin. "You were like a swan among geese." It was that voice, that deep, comforting, lighthearted voice that had changed her first impression of him. He was funny and utterly disarming. At the end of their conversation, he'd begged her again to call him. If she didn't, he threatened to kill himself in improbable ways. "I'll eat only my own flyers until you call. You see, I'm starting right now." He tore off a corner with his teeth, chewed it and swallowed it. "If you never call, I'll slowly die of malnutrition. It's like a hunger strike, but with flyers. Call me," he pleaded as she'd disappeared through the threshold of the financial aid center. She'd looked back to see him walking away, uninterested in talking to any of the other girls behind her.
"So, in a word, ladies and gentlemen, Kelly is distressed," said Martin. "If she doesn't pay for her dorm by tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow," Kelly confirmed. It was an exaggeration, but it didn't hurt for people to think she was less of a total whore. "Wait a minute. Girls watch your website?"
"Of course they do, Kelly," said Martin. "Other women love to watch young women like yourself talk about their early experiences, perhaps make a few new experiences. Haven't you ever watched porn?"
"Of course not," said Kelly, "I don't have the money for that!"
"And yes," said Martin, "yes of course. Porn always costs money to make, right folks? And the money people pay to see Kelly, here, for example, will go to keep her in her dorm room. She's out on the street tomorrow without this money," concluded Martin. "Now second question, have you ever appeared on camera before, talking about sex?"
"No," said Kelly.
"Have ever you taken off your clothes in front of the camera?" said Martin.
"No!" answered Kelly incredulously.
"Ever appeared with a naked man in front of a camera?" asked Martin.
"No! Martin-" said Kelly, annoyed.
"Ever done anything sexual in front of a camera?"
"No," she said in frustration.
"Still photographs or videos?" asked Martin.
"No, Martin, No. En Oh," said Kelly, opening her eyes wide and staring Martin down.
"So you'd say you were a dilettante in this business?" asked Martin.
"Y-... Oh, that's the name of your website." Kelly smiled briefly. "No, I mean yes, Martin. I'm not even a dilettante," she said emphatically. "I'm a none-a-tante."
"Stunning," said Martin, "and smart, too. She's clearly a university student, folks. She's teaching me new words. Now I'll have to buy that domain, too." Martin took a deep breath. "Okay Kelly, take a deep breath. What about sex?"
"What about it?" said Kelly innocently.
"Have you ever had any boyfriends? Or girlfriends?" asked Martin.
"No girlfriends! At least not sexual ones," Kelly established. "But I've had four boyfriends."
"And by 'had,' you mean?" asked Martin.
"No, you dirty. Not the first one, at least," said Kelly, smirking. He was good at drawing her out.
"Tell us about the first one. Tell us about what you did when you wanted to be... romantic," prompted Martin.
"Well, we'd sit in his parent's car, and use spit and hands," said Kelly.
"On you?" asked Martin.
"No him!" Kelly clarified. She was feeling itchy.
"And did he ejaculate when you did this? Produce semen?" asked Martin.
"Yes, I know what to... I know how to do it," Kelly assured Martin.
"Was that it with boyfriend number one?" asked Martin.
"No, I... used my mouth?" said Kelly uncertainly.
"You fellated him?" asked Martin.
