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Ex Porn Star Emily Eve Story

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Average: 3.6 (5 votes)

My real name is Rachael and this is my story.

People say my background had a lot to do with me going into the adult industry.  Maybe it did and maybe it didn’t; I don’t know. What I do know is that it was ultimately my decision to do so. Any excuse I give just doesn’t seem to justify putting myself through such horrible things you experience in the industry. Yes the party life was fun sometimes, but the consequences that go along with the life and the actions I chose, were the lowest and the dirtiest I ever want to deal with. 

A little background about me…I grew up as a sheltered home schooled Pastor’s daughter. I thought my parents had it in for me and though they were always against me. For many years of my life, I did things and put myself in situations where I found myself in a predicament that caused me some sort of pain; whether it was physical, emotional, or mental. 

When I was a child, I loved to go to my sister’s house to play with my nieces and nephews. We were all about the same age because of the age difference between my sister and I. My dad always used to tell me I shouldn’t be hanging around her house so often; that he didn’t have a good feeling about me being there. One day she married a man who had no respect for anyone; especially women. Three days after they married, he started molesting me and several of the other girls in the house. This went on for a few years before anyone found out. When I told my sister about it, she brushed it off and told me it was just the way he showed me he loved me. Thankfully, he was arrested and sent to prison for about 5 years for it. 

Then when I was a teenager, my parents had a stronger hold on me, and wouldn’t let me leave our street. Because of them not being able to protect me when I was a child, they tried harder and harder to protect me as I got older. Of course, like any teen, I fought them at every turn. I had been told many times, not to walk through a certain park by myself. However, I thought I knew better, and so one day I took a walk through that park to meet my niece after school. As I was walking past the bathrooms, a man grabbed me and drug me into one of the bathrooms, where he then proceeded to rape me.. I was so scared and so ashamed I didn’t tell anyone for a few years. By then he was long gone, and never saw any kind of justice. 

You’d think that after those instances, I would have listened to my parents. Nope, not me. I was never allowed to date (and for good reason), but I found ways to sneak around and date guys. I snuck out of the house at night to meet them, and snuck my nieces and nephew out with me when they came to live with us as teens. I drank and got others to do it with me.. I was dating someone who was mentally, emotionally, and sometimes physically abusive to me. One night, I snuck out and had my first consensual sex encounter with him. A few weeks went by and I thought I was pregnant because I missed a period; so I ran away. It didn’t take long for me to be found and brought home though. I ran away a second time a few years later, but again was brought back home. 

Again and again, my parents picked me up and dusted me off. I still didn’t learn. I kept dating guys who were horrible and abusive to me. I dated someone who was nice to me once, and ruined that relationship faster than the blink of an eye. Then got with someone who put me in a situation where I got beat up and have to leave the state for a little while. Then when all hell broke loose there, my parents rescued me once again and brought me home. 

I thought then, that I was ready to give my life over to the Lord for good. That lasted for a few weeks until I met the father of my child. We worked together and I thought he was everything I could ever want. After months of sneaking around to see him at 20 years old, I moved into an apartment and he moved in with me. It didn’t take very long for me to need help again. We lived together for about 5 months before finances got rough, and I needed extra cash. I saw on craigslist about a modeling gig, and since I had been interested in showing off some modeling skills, I decided to try it. I later found out it was nude modeling, and even though I was nervous, I did it anyway. The guy I was dating went with me to keep me safe, but I couldn’t help feeling like this was very wrong. I quieted my conscience and finished the shoot. That got my start with nude modeling. It only took me about 3 or 4 months to make my first nude magazine cover and centerfold. I shot for a couple who tried to rape me, and the man severely hurt me, and because I had signed a “model release” form. I couldn’t press any charges. 

The money in modeling wasn’t enough and I was offered a job as a paid “extra” in a porn video in Miami. I talked it over with my boyfriend and he thought it was cool.. I wanted so bad to impress him and we needed the money, so I agreed to do it. I ended up doing more than what I was there to do, and felt so dirty afterwards. However, a few weeks later, I was offered a real job doing a shoot with someone who said they could make me a lot of money. I agreed to go, and it wasn’t so bad the first time. I had another female talent on set with me, and she made me feel better about what was going to go down. She told me all about the porn life and how good I could do. Towards the end of the scene, the director yells, “Cream Pies”, and before I know it, the male talent I was working with doesn’t pull out at the end of the scene, and I have just found out what the term “cream pie” means. 

I ended up taking Plan B, which made me very sick for a while. I did one more job in Florida before I said I hated doing porn and wanted to quit. Then the money got thin again and I went back into nude modeling. I got offered a job in Vegas for a modeling shoot, and was so excited to take it. However, I had to have some money to get there. I called up and old contact in the porn industry, and he got me a job with “Facial Abuse”.. He told me everything would be fine, and that it would just be like rough sex. They might want me to vomit a little, but it would be easy money. When I was finished with the scene, my throat was bleeding, I had bruises all over my body, my vagina was torn in two places, and I ended up with pink eye. I felt so weak, used, and honestly I felt like I had been raped all over again. I swore I would never do porn again (like I’d never said that before). 

I finally got to Vegas, where the man I was supposed to be working for, held me prisoner for several days. He wanted me to have sex with him, and when I didn’t, he locked me in a room. Thankfully, he wasn’t the kind of pervert that likes to have sex with girls on their period. He took my phone, and told me that I would not be let out until I did what he wanted. One day he went to the casino to gamble, and I searched the room frantically for my phone. When I found it, I called my porn connect and told him the situation and said I needed help. At this point, I could have called my parents, or anyone else, but pride got in the way, and it became my final downfall. He told me how to turn on my GPS and by the time the man got back from gambling, the cops were at the door to help me. My porn connection gave my number to Type 9 Models in California, who flew me out to work my way home. Little did I know that I would be signing a 6 month contract I would later regret. 

When I got to Cali, they had me tested and I had my first shoot within days. It wasn’t so bad at first. The people were nice to me at the location, and I felt important. After my second shoot, I realized that porn was not all that everyone said it was. I had always had a problem with pornography when I was younger, but experiencing it in real life made me realize how deep I had really fallen. My second shoot was horrible. The guy was so rough and so rude. I was scared, but I couldn’t quit. Shoot after shoot after shoot, my life got more and more depressing. The girls in the model house fought constantly, and they were all fake. There was one girl who helped me through everything, but most times I felt like even she was fake. 

I shot scenes where I had to pretend to be dead and let someone rape my dead body. I came home bruised and sometimes a little bloody from the rough scenes. I shot deep throat scenes where they slapped me and spit on me and called me horrible things. I threw up, and had to keep shooting.. I couldn’t breathe because of the vomit in my nose and the genitals in my mouth. I shot with Mandingo, and did a great job at pretending I wasn’t in pain as I was forcefully penetrated by something as long and big as half my arm. Time after time, I would go home and cry myself to sleep because I feared what the next day would bring. I did smoking scenes where I had to smoke electronic cigarettes with nicotine in them. For someone who smokes regularly that would have been okay, but for someone who NEVER smoked, it wasn’t. I got so sick after those scenes, and started smoking cigarettes. My drinking got out of control. I used to wake up in the morning naked on the floor in my own vomit, with my clothes thrown all over the model house. I started smoking pot more frequently to relax me in the day time, and took GHB at night to sleep or before a shoot to be able to perform. I was told that I had to do “privates” with some of the directors in order to be able to keep shooting, and in order to not breach my contract. Once I was scheduled for my first one, I found out that a “private” is just a fancy word for prostitution. 

I caught Gonorrhea, and was told that if I didn’t tell anyone I could still work because I had not been tested by a testing center so no one would know. I got genital herpes and was hospitalized because I didn’t know that was what I had. I could not afford to go to the doctor when the signs showed up, because all my money was going towards paying to stay at the model house and paying for my food and personal needs for shoots. One night I was in severe pain and tried to use balmex to help soothe it, and it started to burn like crazy and bleed. My driver took me to the hospital where I was diagnosed with herpes and told that the medicine I needed to help me was $400 for the crème to sooth it, and $110 for the pills to keep the symptoms away. I couldn’t afford it at the time.  

The owner of the company I was in contract with, got in his head somehow that I was trying to take girls from his company and start a company with another person. It was an insane idea but he was deadest on believing it. He made it so I couldn’t shoot, and wouldn’t let me out of my contract so I could work for someone else to finally earn my way home. I had to move in with someone else from the company to have a place to stay, and he hooked me up with someone who got me into doing “privates” for people outside the industry. Not having many options, I agreed and worked until I had saved up enough money to buy a ticket home. 

Once I got back to my home state, I swore again that I would never go back. Then once again, money got tight and I shot some more scenes in Miami. The first one wasn’t so bad, but the second one was horrible. They took me to a dangerous place in Miami, and had me dress in very revealing clothing while riding a bike that was probably only big enough for a 6 year old. I was terrified that I would get shot or something. They made me have sex with the male talent out on the street in public and several times we had to run away from the cops so we wouldn’t get arrested. That was my last scene. My boyfriend and I had been together for 2 ½ years by then, and he kept saying he wanted to get into the industry. I kept talking him out of it, and finally he quit pushing. Four months after my last shoot I found out I was pregnant. Thankfully it was by my boyfriend. 

I got really sick and started bleeding a lot, and so I went to the hospital to make sure the baby was okay. Once there, I found out that I had HPV, a cyst on my ovary (caused from too much rough sex), chlamydia, a severe kidney infection, and trichomoniasis.. They also told me I was having a threatened miscarriage. It was then that I realized that my life was going down the drain in an unstoppable spiral. I decided then and there that if I was going to be able to keep this baby, I had to make a change. 

I started going back to church, and trying to live right. During my pregnancy, they kept me on bed rest the entire time because I was severely high risk. Once I had the baby, they took the cyst off my ovary. I have still not been able to get rid of the trichomoniasis and have not yet been healed of the herpes, but I know my day is coming. 

My boyfriend and I broke up a month after the baby was born, and I went back to live with my parents once again. They have never given up on me, and have loved me through all my downfalls. When I moved in with them, I was terrified they would find out about my adult work. I started having nightmares about people finding out, and about the experiences in the industry that I had. I contacted The Pink Cross for help. They sent me a copy of Shelley’s book, which gave me such inspiration. They sent me so many encouraging emails, and assured me that if I allowed them to send me something in the mail that no one would find out it was from them. I was so scared if my parents knew; they wouldn’t forgive me for it. 

However, reading Shelley’s book gave me the courage to tell my Pastor and my parents about my work, and how I have made a life change.. My parents said they had a feeling that something like that was going on the entire time, but never said anything. They said they loved me and that wasn’t me anymore. I was different, and God would help me through all this.

I thank The Pink Cross for being such a help in my time of need. The nightmares have significantly decreased and I feel confident again because of the support and encouraging words I have received from them. They are truly a God-send. If there is anyone out there who needs help getting out of the industry, or needs help for the after trauma of being in the industry; I encourage you to contact The Pink Cross. I couldn’t have been honest with myself or others without their help. 

Know that God loves you, and there is help. 

I love you and God loves you, 

Rachael

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Comments

Submitted by ryan (not verified) on
I cried after reading this....I can't imagine why people in the sex industry are so brutal, I just want freedom from looking at porn... I'm still a virgin and I have hi hopes that sex with my wife (one day hopefully) will be amazing! I know my struggle comes from loneliness and seeing all my friends go out and have sex all the time :/ I would never treat a woman abusively like you talked about...idk why I even look at this. I'm so blessed to be able to hear your story and find encouragement to deal with such a REAL issue!

Submitted by John (not verified) on
Praise the Lord for His Mercy and Grace is sufficient. I am so thankful for you and the woman that you have become in Christ. Your parents sound like the parents I hope my wife and I can be in demonstrating the unconditional love of Christ to our 4 boys. I pray that you will continue to heal as you allow the Holy Spirit and blood of Christ to transform you.

Submitted by Expornwatcher (not verified) on
I'm a female who used to watch porn but after hearing too many HORRIFIC stories from ex pornstars I can't support porn anymore. It's a business with no regulation, no certainty that there's consent of the actresses on the scenes they shoot. I now found out that most pornstars have been forced to continue scenes, which is actual rape. I'm shocked to read all these horrific things. Many times I had the idea "well no woman would do this, not even for money" and I was right! Drugging actresses, not stopping when actresses say stop, heavy painkillers needed to finish a shoot, etc. I really didn't know. It's so naive of me. I'm happy for you to have found your way out. And I respect you for coming out with your experiences.

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