No, my mother wanted that for me in the worst way—I just wanted to be in the movie bad, bad enough to do anything to get the part. Bad enough to act... my heart out with the producer to get the part and then to do what I did to make the most out of the part when I did get it. Mr. Stanwyck, the producer knew what I, at fourteen, would do to play the part of Joey Starett, the impressionable settler’s son in the remake of the Western movie about bad guys trying to push the homesteaders out in the. But look at them; they’re all the same; that’s how they develop their humongous dicks; they all have guy like me – or sometimes several guys like me – on call 24/7; it’s a real relentless and thankless job, which has nothing at all to do with sex for pleasure as we know it.It's not done for pleasure at all; we, the assistants, are nothing more than a set of exercise weights in their minds; either we are fucking them or they are fucking us just to develop themselves to reach that much-desired. ‘Would you please—’ Jennifer burst into sobs. I buried my face in my hands. Tommy had a hard time stifling his humorous comments. It had gotten him into trouble more times than I could remember. ‘Just asking,’ Tommy said humbly. Jennifer wiped her eyes and looked up, attempting a tremulous smile. ‘I guess…I started the baseball analogy. Okay, then, if he hits a homerun he’s got three more strikes coming. But I’m warning him—’ I wasn’t sure whether the sound she made was a giggle or a stifled. As I yelled out "I am aninsolent maid," the fifteenth stroke hit, and I came in a juddering climax,jetting what felt like pints against the back of the sofa.This was greeted with a chorus of exclamations. "Eeeww! Gross!" "PoorNunkie. No self control." "Typical male." "Here's a cloth, Nunkie. Betterclean that up."Something about the orgasm and the pain cleared my head. Annabelledismounted, smiling to herself. As I wiped down the back of the sofa, Iprepared for my next trial.Annabelle was.