lisa.black.c
Santanatrix 25
Swedish Erotica had a certain image. For whatever reason, they wanted the girls in their scenes to wear lacy scarves. It was weird, but as it was explained to me, they wanted customers to see that scarf in a scene and make an immediate association in their head, “Oh, a scarf. This is Swedish Erotica.” It was like a hood ornament on a car: every car had its own design and it helped you know what kind of car it was.
Swedish Erotica thought that scarves were classy. I thought they were itchy and a pain in the ass to wear. I mean, in real life, who wears a scarf to bed? I can see keeping some article of clothing on — usually sweat socks. Ha! But even to be sexy, there are a lot cooler things to wear, like silky lingerie. But that was their signature and for as much as I asked for things here and there, removing the scarf was one thing on which they would not negotiate.
The more loops I did for Swedish Erotica, the more I became personally associated with scarves. People started to forget all the other girls in their loops who wore them, too. But I was doing so many scenes for them, I started being known in the industry and even among the fans as Miss Swedish Erotica. At one point, Swedish Erotica even gave me that title officially, like it was another beauty contest I had won. It was all good. They’d invite me to public appearances and things and introduce me as Miss Swedish Erotica, just like when I was Miss Hopewell Virginia. I don’t know how they came up with it. I don’t believe there was any official voting of any sort. It was a publicity stunt, which flattered me because they were saying, essentially, that I was now the face of their franchise. I was moving up in the world.
But the scarves — those damn scarves. I hated them. You’d go to a shoot and they’d have them lying around everywhere and would just throw one at me or the other girls. They’d been lying on the floor — dirty, dusty, covered in cum and whatever. They made me want to retch. As soon as I was handed one, I’d go to the bathroom and hand-wash it, then blow it dry before I’d let it touch my skin; otherwise I thought I was going to pick up some kind of disease. It was like being asked to wear someone else’s skanky underwear that was just fished out of a dumpster. They never washed those things on their own. It wasn’t like they were fancy or expensive or anything. For a buck or two they could have given us brand new ones for every scene; but no, they recycled them. Makeup, sweat, and cum, lots of dried cum. Maybe it was more noticeable when I wore one in a scene because mine were nice and clean and fluffy. I can be pretty anal sometimes. I may have been raised poor, but we were always big on cleanliness.
One time I was doing a phone-in radio appearance. I put my phone on speaker and started doing housework. When the station called, the first thing they asked me on the air was, “So, Seka, what are you doing right now,” expecting some sort of sexy answer. I, being slow on the uptake, opted for honesty. “I’m steam-cleaning my toilet right now.” They laughed hysterically and thought I was being funny. I wasn’t. Steam-cleaning toilets and hand-washing scarves: that’s how I roll.
"Inside Seka - The Platinum Princess of Porn" by Seka and Zukus Kery (c) 2013, BearManor Media
Santanatrix 25
Swedish Erotica had a certain image. For whatever reason, they wanted the girls in their scenes to wear lacy scarves. It was weird, but as it was explained to me, they wanted customers to see that scarf in a scene and make an immediate association in their head, “Oh, a scarf. This is Swedish Erotica.” It was like a hood ornament on a car: every car had its own design and it helped you know what kind of car it was.
Swedish Erotica thought that scarves were classy. I thought they were itchy and a pain in the ass to wear. I mean, in real life, who wears a scarf to bed? I can see keeping some article of clothing on — usually sweat socks. Ha! But even to be sexy, there are a lot cooler things to wear, like silky lingerie. But that was their signature and for as much as I asked for things here and there, removing the scarf was one thing on which they would not negotiate.
The more loops I did for Swedish Erotica, the more I became personally associated with scarves. People started to forget all the other girls in their loops who wore them, too. But I was doing so many scenes for them, I started being known in the industry and even among the fans as Miss Swedish Erotica. At one point, Swedish Erotica even gave me that title officially, like it was another beauty contest I had won. It was all good. They’d invite me to public appearances and things and introduce me as Miss Swedish Erotica, just like when I was Miss Hopewell Virginia. I don’t know how they came up with it. I don’t believe there was any official voting of any sort. It was a publicity stunt, which flattered me because they were saying, essentially, that I was now the face of their franchise. I was moving up in the world.
But the scarves — those damn scarves. I hated them. You’d go to a shoot and they’d have them lying around everywhere and would just throw one at me or the other girls. They’d been lying on the floor — dirty, dusty, covered in cum and whatever. They made me want to retch. As soon as I was handed one, I’d go to the bathroom and hand-wash it, then blow it dry before I’d let it touch my skin; otherwise I thought I was going to pick up some kind of disease. It was like being asked to wear someone else’s skanky underwear that was just fished out of a dumpster. They never washed those things on their own. It wasn’t like they were fancy or expensive or anything. For a buck or two they could have given us brand new ones for every scene; but no, they recycled them. Makeup, sweat, and cum, lots of dried cum. Maybe it was more noticeable when I wore one in a scene because mine were nice and clean and fluffy. I can be pretty anal sometimes. I may have been raised poor, but we were always big on cleanliness.
One time I was doing a phone-in radio appearance. I put my phone on speaker and started doing housework. When the station called, the first thing they asked me on the air was, “So, Seka, what are you doing right now,” expecting some sort of sexy answer. I, being slow on the uptake, opted for honesty. “I’m steam-cleaning my toilet right now.” They laughed hysterically and thought I was being funny. I wasn’t. Steam-cleaning toilets and hand-washing scarves: that’s how I roll.
"Inside Seka - The Platinum Princess of Porn" by Seka and Zukus Kery (c) 2013, BearManor Media