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BlogsPornography Tue Apr 7, - pm EST Shelley Lubben was a porn star in the s, having entered the industry as a prostitute at a very young . Hot New Teen & MILF Pornstars! Follow their blogs for Pictures, Videos and Tube Movies!. INTRODUCTION: Jenna Jameson, the world's most famous and successful "porn star", is one of the best anti-pornography spokespeople there are. (Whether.

I just remember being in horrible situations and experiencing extreme depression and being alone and sad. Andi left the porn industry in and joined the Pink Cross Foundation, a group of ex-porn performers that speak out on the harms of pornography. I was being hit and choked. Yes, I was, and I got to see those performers that nobody knows about—that nobody claims that got HIV, that are not a part of the statistics—walk out the door as non-performers, not to be counted.

Yeah, there are a lot of cover-ups going on. There is a lot of tragedy. There are a lot of horrible things. I led them to believe I lived a fantasy life which was far from the truth. I fed into their fantasies. I gave them hope and insight into their relationships by telling them what to do. I started to feel like an important nobody, they knew Elizabeth [the porn star], but they would never care to know Jan [the real me].

The abuse that goes on in this industry is completely ridiculous.

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The way these young ladies are treated is totally sick and brainwashing. I left due to the trauma I experienced even though I was there only a short time. I hung out with a lot of people in the adult industry, everybody from contract girls to gonzo actresses. Everybody has the same problems.

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Everybody is on drugs. And he put it right back inside. The guy was a machine. There was no lull. His focus never dimmed. His intensity never wavered. I was in shock. I was starting to get sore. I have to go eat something. I was curious to see what he was up to now. He walked off, devoured three cans of tuna, and was back with a raging hard-on still pulsating in the air.

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His very first thrust banged my cervix wrong. I doubled over in pain, rocking and moaning and clutching myself for fifteen minutes. It took another six hours before I was ready to have sex again. The porn industry will objectify you and influence you to see yourself as an object. The porn industry and the people in it do not treat women with decency, fairness and respect. And these girls, some of whom have the potential to become major stars in the industry, go home afterward and pledge never to do it again because it was such a terrible experience.

She walks home with three thousand dollars, bowed legs, and a terrible impression of the industry. When I spread for him, he joked about there being an echo in the room. When I went into a doggie position, he commented on needing a fish-eye lens for my ass. I looked at how the other girls were being treated basically like Tinkertoys and what type of people got to call the shots the male directors. I was determined not to just be a fuck toy but also retain as much power as possible off camera.

I ran after him in a Tasmanian Devil frenzy. The crew had to pull us apart. It was late and my nerves were frayed, but nonetheless J. And I was right: When he left, I collapsed in my makeup chair and started crying. He had a very strange expression on his face, as if he actually enjoyed the responsibility. When he fished it the sponge out between his bloody fingers, he actually sniffed it. I had to get out of there.

I never wanted to do another movie again. One of them was Al Goldstein, the publisher of Screw magazine, who was writing for Penthouse at the time. Joy set up something after the awards show, and Goldstein came by to introduce himself. When he discussed the interview, he seemed to be dropping hints about going on a date or getting sexual favors from me in exchange for the article.

Goldstein never forgave us for canceling the interview. And so I made my first enemy in the business. He published a screed against Joy and me on the front page of Screw, accusing us of practically every offense imaginable — and a few that were unimaginable. He even attacked my family. That was a turning point because up until then, I could do no wrong. I was the golden girl of the industry.

When I read that story, I was heartbroken. I wanted to give up and quit the business. The only people I trusted were Steve and Joy. I was instantly drawn to him. He was so different than any guy I had met before.

He had no game. And because of that, I felt comfortable, like I could let down my guard and be myself without worrying that he wanted anything from me. I returned home to a very different Jordan from the one I had left.

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My three-week absence had brought out a possessive, patriarchal, and jealous side of him. He insisted that the next time I go on the road, he come along, ostensibly to protect me and make sure I got paid. Jenna was sleeping with a stripper named Melissa at the time.

The industry will sometimes lie about you and not respect your wishes. All three were on the stands with me on the cover. I was the slut of the month. Of course none of them mentioned Jenna Jameson. They called me Shelly or Daisy or Missy. And, though the editors had never spoken a word to me, they featured interviews in which I discussed how inordinately horny I was, how much I like sex with anonymous strangers, and how I fantasized about inviting my girlfriends over for threesomes with my boyfriend.

There was no way I could survive here. These girls would eat me alive. As I was inspecting the bananas like a good monkey, a tall, think, beautiful brunette walked up to me. It was Shauna Ryan, a Penthouse Pet and clearly the alpha female of the tribe. My pictures appeared in every sex ad and foreign nudie magazine imaginable. She made her living off of enthusiastic new girls like myself, and I understood that and was grateful to her for making me an international cover girl.

But there was a bigger problem — she Suze Randall was stringing me along, telling me that each shoot we did just might be a centerfold in Penthouse. However, nothing we did ever appeared there….

So I added Suze to my mental shitlist of people I could not trust and decided to stop working with her. Jeanna was smart, confident, and candid…She was everything I wanted to be. She just went through the motions, and seemed disconnected the whole time. What could have possibly gone through your mind to make you do something like this?

Put the shoe on the other foot: How would you feel if you were brand-new on the dance circuit and some legendary dancer chick came in and took your fucking money? He Howard Stern seemed determined to know what had a made a girl like me become a porn star. I told him I loved. I told him I loved the attention. He asked if I had a screwed-up childhood, and I said no.

He asked if my parents had been strict, and I said no. He asked if my dad and I still talked, and I said we did. He asked if my mom minded what I was doing, and I said no. I had decided in advance that it was better not to discuss her death on the air. I lied like a rug.

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Actually, there was a problem: You will likely be around a lot of people drinking and taking drugs, with a lot of temptation to succumb yourself.

It was all part of growing up and finding yourself. In my mind, the so-called bad drugs were meth, coke, and heroin. Unlike acid and mushrooms, these were addictive drugs, and I thought I was too strong and too smart ever to fall in to that trap. But slowly and sure, it happened. But now, at twenty, my career was already over. You punch the clock and go to work. A boyfriend can be a nightmare for your career and your emotional health.

Traveling to Los Angeles meant flying high and risking getting caught with speed at the airport. So I started posing only for photographers in Las Vegas. Let the tension out of your face. There were no magazines for guys with fetishes for anorexic meth freaks at the time.

I looked down at my hand, and my fingertips were black from all the time spent holding hot cigarette lighters under meth pipes. The only person I hang out with is a fucking Mexican crack whore who calls me mija. I stepped on it.

The dial spun and wobbled under the red needle until it stopped on a number. And that number was eighty. I weighed eighty pounds. It had strings of brittle blond hair that had snapped off at various lengths; eyes recessed deep into the sockets and surrounded by bruised black circles; cheekbones sharp enough to draw blood; and its complexion was sickly cyanotic. The devil was my own reflection.

I had made my living with my looks, and now they were gone: All the curves that men paid thousands of dollars just to look at had melted away to reveal a skeleton in rags. You punch the clock and you go to work. For hours, I rehearsed what I was going to say in my head. They either pretended to be voracious sex kittens or poor wounded birds….

I wanted to hold my own against the pressure and manipulation… Few girls left that studio without looking like bimbos. And, unlike movie making, I had to get it right or risk national humiliation…. Instantly, the grilling started. You really are a psycho. Since my marriage to Rod was loveless and sexless, I started seeing Manson on and off. But the more I got to know him, the weirder he became.

And he wanted to fuck me in the ass a little too often for my comfort. He waved me over. He was trying to get in their pants; they were trying to get in his pants; and I was confused.

But Wesley had no idea I was a porn star. Either way, I was offended. I looked at him blankly, stood up, and walked away. That was the first and last time I ever saw him. Bruce Willis walked in front of me. Instantly, I felt my chest flush and tingle. Even though he was wearing a creepy pair of shorts, I was still attracted.

He pushed me up against the wall and kissed me. After thirty seconds of passionate tonguing, he just walked away without a word…. Willis is waiting for you in his limousine. They just wanted to see some skin. So much for my delusion of actually being respected in the world at large. I still wonder what guys do with them, and how stinky and crusty they get when they remain unwashed in their rooms for so long.

The best way to make money is not with a Broadway-caliber show, but by being enticing and engaging onstage — by making them want to splooge in their pants. I was back in stripper mode. Working in porn will negatively affect your viewpoint of men and sex. Her pussy will have changed from a pleasure center to a cash machine.

Wherever I went in the club, I could feel her watching me. Your career will likely negatively affect your relationship and your relationship will likely negatively affect your career.

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Some of the bigger loser boyfriends will even hit on other performers. However, dating a male performer is also a kiss of death for most girls.

This is borne out by how hard it is for anyone in the industry to have a healthy relationship off camera. No male is wired to watch his lover having sex with another man on camera, especially if he is better looking, has a bigger dick, and fucks her better. As a male performer you are doomed to be single for the rest of your life…. A guy performs seven to ten scenes per week at least. The number one performers do fifteen scenes per week. And when they do go out, they are like lepers.

Whenever we were together, he treated me like a princess. So, as the relationship progressed, it became harder and harder for him to fuck me, because he was caught in a double bind.

It seemed like in order to get pleasure during sex, he had to humiliate the woman; but it was impossible for him to humiliate the woman he loved. I was confident that he loved me and, even better, he allowed me to be in charge.

I learned an important thing about dating: The person who wants the least amount of commitment in a relationship is the one who holds the reins. But, instead, I became just as bad as the men I had dated. I took out all my negative experiences on him Rod and really fucked him up, because I had nothing to lose.

By the end of our first month of living together, we were fighting all the time. I would insult every aspect of his masculinity and threaten to leave, because I truly did not need him. I was still living out unresolved conflicts from my past.

He seemed to be taking out all his bad experiences with women on me as well. He had a passive-aggressive way of trying to keep me under control, and that was by playing off my insecurity.

It was his way of getting revenge by making me as dependent on him as he was on me. And that pissed me off more than anything, because Preacher had said that word to me when he was raping me. Hearing it since — no matter who spoke it — sent bubbles of anger boiling to the surface of my skin. It will save you a lot of pain and suffering.

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Of course, he still had to suffer the consequences. So, somehow, over the course of all this madness, I must have fallen in love with him. And the more I fell in love with him, the more he pulled away and neglected me.

Instead of spending time with me when he was home, he would lock himself in his room for days and write scripts. Some say that work is the enemy of all natural erotic impulses, that it kills off your sexual desires and channels them elsewhere. And this is doubly true when your work is sex. On some level, I wanted to make it work because, professionally, we were a good team.

The movies we made were some of my favorites. So, in a last ditch effort to make the relationship work, we decided to get married. So I immersed myself in planning the wedding of the century. I even bought my own wedding ring. So I booked a room for us that night at the Beverly Hills Hotel. When we checked in, we said good night and went to sleep.

Go ahead and write another mother-fucking script.

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But it was only a matter of time before it leaked into our professional life. We began to argue over every little thing on the set, which made the entire crew uncomfortable. One of us would tell the other what to do, and the other would bristle and snap back.

Of course, I only had a problem when he was ordering me around, not when anyone else did. He knew how to get me, because the most important thing to me was the way I looked on camera. It soon became The War of the Roses between us.

And sometimes, on my side of the camera. And since it takes two to make a good sex scene, I felt that he was fucking my career up. But it was a major ego blow to Rod. I took him aside and said that we could just scrap the scene. It was the first one I had done with another man since we were married.

But Rod got his revenge. However, as soon as the paparazzi photos of us hit the press, Howard Stern was on the phone asking about it. I denied the whole thing on the air and told him we were just friends. But the next day Manson was on his show, blabbing about the entire thing. I never pegged him as the type to kiss and tell.

The final blow came when we concluded that I needed to work with other directors and performers in order to maintain the momentum of my career. Just then, Rod came bursting into the room. Who do you think you are? Finally, I packed my shit and left the set. In bed, I would move my foot over to touch his, and he would move his leg away.

I had been much better off living alone. The exact words I used were: There was no love, or even consideration or good will, left between us anymore. The minute I left, I knew I was doing the right thing.

My entire life was porn. I needed escape and balance. Jordan offered the solace I needed: He was normal; he made me feel comfortable; he gave me my space.