Being in a Horror Porn

Written by on 10/31/2013 in Humor

Acting in a horror pornAs it’s Halloween, it seems a good time to share with you the tale of one of the more bizarre shoots I’ve taken part in–a horror porn flick. Nakedness, real life witches and fake blood abound. . .

Working in the adult movie industry, even at a time when I was trying to be more discerning about the movies I made and who I made them with, often became very, well, samey. There are, after all, only so many ways you can get sexy on camera, and the industry remains annoyingly dominated by male directors who prefer tits and ass to anything resembling a bit of creativity. So when I was approached by “arty” independent film company Chemical Burn to play the role of a witch in their forthcoming “erotic horror,” I jumped at the chance to show off my acting skills, so far relegated to faking orgasms. I should have known all was not going to go to plan when I was given very little instructions prior to the day of the shoot other than “wear some witchy stuff.”

I acquired what I thought was witchy: a cute costume from my local New Age shop, some gothic makeup in case the budget didn’t stretch to a makeup artist, and a few pieces of pentagram jewelery.

I was told to wear the makeup and the jewelery.

So I ended up naked, kneeling on the ground in front of a “magic circle” that had been erected by the films advisor, a scary-looking woman who told me she was a “true hereditary witch, not one of these namby-pamby Wicca types,” and being ogled by a young male film crew probably used to shooting nothing racier than this semester’s media studies project. The writer/director had a nervous twitch twitch and seemed very interested in my nipples. Which were pleasingly erect, as we were shooting outside, in the darkest coldest January night I can remember. Did I mention I was naked?

My character, I was told, would open the film. Although I only had one scene–due to my character being brutally killed–I was responsible for the calling up of the demon that would go on to terrorize the main characters. I was to perform a ritual, do some provocative naked swaying, and accidentally call up the bad guy, who would then rip out my throat, leaving me lying in a pool of fake blood.

Nice. I was beginning to wonder if I wasn’t more comfortable with my usual porn routine. At least the sets were usually warm.

The consultant witch was there to apparently ensure I performed the ritual authentically, even though the whole point was surely that my character got it horribly wrong. This involved her preparing me to open my chakras by waving incense over me and sprinkling some spice that resulted in my having a ten minute sneezing fit.

Finally, we got down to filming. I was doing my naked-swaying thing, waving the wand the witch had given me and chanting what sounded like gibberish–she assured me it was Gaelic, but my nan is Irish and she doesn’t talk like that–and quite getting into the spirit of things.

Then the director shouted, “Cut!”

“We think it would be good,” he said, accompanied by eager nods from the young male film crew, “If, as part of the ritual, you were to masturbate with a crucifix.”

“Hasn’t that been done before? The Exorcist.” I pointed out, stalling for time. I have masturbated on camera with a variety of sex toys, but a crucifix? I was raised Catholic, for God’s sake.

“Still, I think it would add to the scene,” he persisted. No mention from the witch as to the authenticity of this particular part of the ritual.

Needless to say, I refused, and my role was taken over by the witch herself, who performed so enthusiastically that I toyed with the idea of asking her if she would like to work in the porn industry.

Although I lost my chance to be in the film, I at least got to put my clothes back on and was paid for my time.

I got a phone call a month later asking if I would like to be in another film, playing a woman getting torn apart by ghouls. Funnily enough, I turned them down in order to film a movie with a very hot French guy, and no fake blood.


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