Page 78 of Notorious

My stomach feels hollow and empty, and my mouth goes dry. I start looking for the exit—which is the door. It’s right there. I could run.

“Are you sure you want to talk about it?” Kurt asks, breaking through my nerves. “I’d never force you to.”

Honesty.

The only way out is through.

I can do this.

I scratch at my face. “No, but yes. I don’t want to, but I’ll have to talk about it again at the trial, anyway. The thing is, I’m afraid you ain’t gonna like me no more, Kurt.”

“That’s never going to happen,” he says, lightly stroking my forearm. I want to lean into him, but I’ve gotta be strong or I’ll never get through this.

“Johnny, in these sessions, you don’t have to say anything you don’t want to. So why don’t you start with what you want to tell us?” Christian says.

I scrub my cheeks and start twisting my wedding ring. “Y’all know I’ve always been a top, right?” I look at Christian. “You understand gay sex terminology?”

She nods. “Yes. Why are you exclusively a top?”

“That’s what I like. I tried bottoming once, and it hurt, and I didn’t like it. I try to make it good for the people I’m with, but it’s not for me.”

“You have every right to set boundaries that work for you, regarding sex and elsewhere in your life,” Christian says.

I clear my throat and rub my hands over my jean-covered thighs. “Okay, so, well. I’ve worked for a lot of different studios. The one I usually worked for had a founder who was big on ethics and consent. He got sick, though, and left a new guy in charge. And this new guy—well, he’s a veteran in the industry, so he’s not new, just new to me—he’s known for being … edgier. He brought in his own company, where he jointly produced and directed, and started to take over different planned productions. More than once, he asked me to do some scenes outside my costar’s limits. I said no, and he got pissed. I did the scene the way I thought it needed to be done. He chewed me out something fierce afterward, but I wasn’t gonna do what he asked. Then he asked me to work with another actor who I guess was a buddy of his, who called me a sissy for respecting my costars’ boundaries. Anyway, a few weeks later, I got called for a job, but the director sends me to his studio. I’d worked there before, though it wasn’t my favorite. That day we were gonna film on a sound stage with a bed and some props. Nothing too unusual. They told me we’d be filming an orgy scene. I’ve done plenty of those, and this time I think there were maybe eight guys? I didn’t think anything of it, and that was my first mistake.”

I can tell that Kurt doesn’t like where this is going, but he doesn’t say anything. A sour taste rises in my mouth, and I swallow hard.

“What happened?” Christian asks softly, putting her notepad down.

“Well, I get there and they hand me my usual bottle of Gatorade, and it’s open. I figured it was just my brain tricking me. You know how that happens, like you think ‘Did I open it already, and just forgot?’ I guess I wasn’t really thinking straight or wasn’t suspicious enough.” I shake my head. “There are some sketchy people in porn, and I know better than to trust anyone I don’t know well, but I didn’t think I’d need to check my drink at a place where I’d worked before, for damn sake.” My stomach rolls. “And I always had Gatorade before filming.”

Kurt makes a soft, hurt noise.

“At any rate, after I drank it, I started to feel woozy. Wrong. Loose. Dizzy. And then I was in this kind of—I don’t know how to describe it, but I couldn’t control what was happening. I don’t bottom, Kurt,” I whisper. “Not ever. I’m good with a lot of sex and kink, but that’s a hard limit for me.”

He takes my hand, not squeezing, just warm and gentle.

“It’s like I was out of my body. I could tell the cameras were rolling. I could tell that the other actors were messing around and making fun of me. Making fun of the fact that here’s this big cowboy who don’t bottom. They handcuffed me to the bed and spread my legs, and I couldn’t really fight back. And then there are periods I remember and periods I don’t. But I remember guys ramming themselves up my ass. Taking turns. Laughing at me.”

I’m starting to tear up, which I don’t do. “I mean, I’m a big guy, and I’m fucking strong, but I ain’t strong against seven or eight guys, not drugged, not handcuffed. I kicked and screamed to the extent I could. What I thought was going to be a fun scene was … I can’t describe it. It was like being in hell.”

I can’t bear to look at Kurt, so I’m laser focused on Christian, who has a kind look on her face. “I dunno if the other actors knew that I was drugged. It might have been—I hope it was—just the director. I’m pretty sure he’s the one who roofied me. He was pissed at me for questioning his authority. The other guys said later that he’d told them I was going to resist and playact like it was a rape scene. Only it actually was. He wanted my genuine reaction. He wanted my fight. Well, he got it.” My eyes are hot. “I’d told him I’d never bottom. And he wanted Velvet Finally Gets Topped.”

“Johnny,” Kurt says, and I finally turn to him. He gives me a reassuring nod and looks like he wants to hug me but doesn’t know if he should.

“Don’t pity me. Please. I don’t want it. I don’t want you to not touch me, either.”

“I’d never—” he starts, but I interrupt him. I want to get the rest of this out and over with.

“I had to take myself to the hospital the next day, because they didn’t stretch me properly, and I had … injuries. Tearing and bleeding inside. Bruises and scratches all over my body from where I fought. Where they held me down. I couldn’t stop them. I’m a strong guy, but not when I’m shackled to a bed.” I’m repeating myself, but I don’t know how else to explain it. “I feel so damned ashamed about the whole thing. How could I have been so stupid, to let this happen? I should’ve known better than to trust them. That studio was known for its grittiness. I should’ve been smarter.”

Christian’s started taking notes again. Kurt’s got tears in his eyes, and he scoots closer, putting one arm around me.

“The doctors treated me, but I got funny looks from some of them. I guess word got out.”

“Jesus,” Kurt mutters. “This keeps getting worse and worse.”

“The police came and took a statement. They did an investigation, but I’d waited too long and the hospital didn’t run drug tests right away, so the shit was outta my system. No charges. So I talked to a lawyer. Your buddies, Danny and Noah and all. It took me a long time to tell them everything. I didn’t know—I mean, I wanted to just forget it had ever happened, but I can’t forget, and what if I didn’t say anything and he kept doing that to, to other people, and … anyway, they filed a lawsuit for sexual harassment and sexual battery. That’s been going on for a while. Only no one believes me, because I’m a porn star, so I’m supposed to have my body used however by whoever.” I can’t keep the sourness out of my voice.

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