Where I am is something I cannot tell. How long I have been here is getting harder to keep track of. What my prisoners want is information, a fact that I dare not give up. I am a sexual prisoner in Sex City and if you are reading this, please help!
I gaze upon the beach as dumb blondes and dumb jocks walk hand and hand. Perhaps before admitting as to why they pulled out of doing pornographic films I might have been able to engage them in a conversation, but those days are long gone.
Loneliness sets in. I can have sex whenever I want but it's just not the same anymore. In the past I longed to have sex and afterwards share a pleasantry or two. Now that I find myself surrounded by former porn stars that have had their brains zapped, I have noticed a change in myself. We are more than people of the flesh.
The seagulls chase a few crumbs upon the beach. I hear them each morning rapping outside my window. They are free to fly while I am a prisoner.
As I stare across the beach, my eyes fall upon someone new, a female, attempting to make conversation with one of the couples. She seems odd.
A slender hand with a bottle of suntan lotion stops by my towel.
"Isn't it a beautiful day number 69?" comes a voice to my side.
"Another day of captivity is just that" I respond as I get a look at her button with the number 2 pressed upon it.
She sits down upon a towel to my side and gives me the gaze over. "I have heard much of you number 69. I am so happy that they've assigned me to you."
"Well, you have a rather short lived profession my dear. Others have come. Others have gone." I say with a chuckle.
The new girl suddenly interrupts our conversation. She has no button on. "Will someone tell me where am I?"
"You are in "Sex City" my dear -- the place for former pornographic actors. It isn't wise to go without your button" number 2 says as she strokes my hair.
"Fuck you with this number shit. Where's my agent? I want off this island now!" the girl responds.
I smile and look over at number 2. "You got a feisty one on your hands. I think you better let her go"
Number 2 takes her hand away from me. 'Number 59, you are a prisoner. There can be no escape unless you give us what we want".
"And what the fuck can that be? And why the fuck do you call me a number?" the girl responds as I study her intensity.
"Well give us information as to why you left. Why did you quit porn? That's all we need to know. After that you may leave" number 2 says with a smile.
I feel the urge to speak up to this new inhabitant. "Tell her and you'll end up like those people". I point to all the glassy eyed couples.
"Well fuck you too number 69. Fuck you both. My reason for leaving has nothing to fuck to do with you two", she yells as she runs towards one end of the beach.
I go out to stop her but after 50 feet I turn around and see number 2 issuing some commands in a hand held device. A feeling of dread overcomes me.
I see a giant Spermicide filled white balloon surface and move through the ocean at a rapid pace. The new girls tries to escape but she's on an empty part of the beach and it's to no avail. The ball goes over her and back to the ocean from whence it came. A golf cart with several men picks her up and takes her to the infirmary or the morgue.
"I sense you liked the girl number 69. Pity!" says number 2 as she walks away.
