I believe that dwellings contain the spirits of their former inhabitants. Sometimes the distress of those old occupants is almost palpable if they experienced a great deal of angst while living there. I've known this for a long time, but in the summer of 2005 the notion became very relevant to my life once again. That summer I found a unit in an old apartment house from the 1920s, the Capulet Arms, where I could enjoy the warm weather and ocean breezes right across the street from the beach. The rent on the place was remarkably low, but my commute to work would be very long on the days I had shoots scheduled. Most porn and fetish work is shot in the San Fernando Valley and that is much further North than this beach town where I wanted to stay. I decided to lease the apartment for the summer anyways.

On the day I signed the rental agreement my friend Tyson and I went to the Italian deli that occupied the ground floor of the building. The owner of the deli happened to engage us in conversation and I mentioned that I'd be living upstairs for a short while. He asked me the number of the apartment and I told him. I remember him also inquiring if I knew anyone else who had lived there. It seemed that he was watching me carefully as I shrugged and told him that I didn't. He commented that there were a lot of "characters" who stayed at the Capulet Arms. Later in the conversation it came up that someone had commited suicide a few months earlier by jumping from upstairs. The deli owner mentioned only that the individual had been a nice guy and had caved in the top of a police car with his body as his downward spiral through life had ended. It was a peculiar story and Tyson and I discussed it later that evening while I filled some suitcases with clothes at the old warehouse where I usually live. At some point Tyson disappeared into the room next door so he could avoid helping me pack. An hour later he came bursting through the door with the previous month's issue of Adult Video News Magazine in his hand.

"You aren't going to believe this!" he exclaimed excitedly. It was obvious that he had a good story to tell and his eyes were bright with wonder. He thrust the magazine under my chin and I looked down at it. Busty, blonde Taylor Wane glowered seductively up at me from the page he indicated. I communicated my lack of comprehension by raising my eyebrows and making the universal palms-upward gesture of befuddlement. Tyson stabbed his finger at a photo of a man that appeared on the page below Taylor's picture. For some reason the guy looked like a male stripper, but I can't remember why I thought that at the time. I read the brief paragraphs of text that accompanied his photo. Oh, wow. I no longer recall whether the actual name of the apartment building was mentioned, but the other details contained in the article were sufficient to make me realize that this was an obituary for the very guy who had commited suicide by jumping from the Capulet Arms. It turned out that he was a porn actor called Rex who had also worked as an agent in the business. Somehow I just knew that he used to reside in the exact unit in which I'd be living. I just knew. No wonder that great little place had been vacant. Now it all made sense why the landlords had been asking for so little rent and had been willing to accept a short-term tenant. I felt a bit of a chill as I contemplated the odd coincidence of another porn person living in that unlikely building so far from the hub of the industry.

After moving into unit 1103 at the Capulet Arms I spent hours sitting on the balcony reading and staring at the ocean. Something mysterious was always niggling at my senses although it remained out of the reach of my rational mind. I knew the feeling was connected to Rex's untimely death and I felt compelled to start finding out more information about him. One of my neighbors reluctantly confirmed that Rex had indeed occupied unit #1103. I don't know why I bothered getting that fact validated because I had already known in my soul that that was the case. After further (very casual) investigation I discovered that talent scout Rex had brought notorious pornstar Savannah into the industry. Savannah was platinum blonde, busty and beautiful. In 1992 she was named "Best New Starlet of the Year" by Adult Video News. She commited suicide in 1994 by shooting herself in the head.

Obviously there was a chain of suicide that linked at least two people, but I felt positive that there were others in that chain that I did not yet know about. Here and there, as I enjoyed my summer by the ocean, I would feel Rex's lingering torment around me. Sitting on the balcony was usually a pleasure at any time of the day, but occasionally I had fleeting but powerful impulses to throw myself over the pale green railing. That sounds really bizarre but that is what I experienced. I could usually shake off those twisted notions in the space of a few seconds. It was if an evil spirit would quickly invade my body only to discover that it was not inside a vulnerable enough venue. Then it would just leave. There was only one occasion when I capitulated to the sinister sensations. I had walked out onto the balcony and then
just sunk trembling to the concrete floor as panic and madness washed over me. Inexplicably I felt unable to take the chance of standing upright because I felt that I might go over the side and fall 11 floors to the street below. I sat there gripping the vertical bars of the balcony railing until the terror subsided and my confidence returned. It was just that one time that it happened. Now I think it was probably a warning for what was about to come.

Two days after that episode I was drinking coffee in my kitchen and enjoying the view out the window. There was a knock at the door. It surprised me but I answered it anyways. Two men that looked like male dancers from a cheesy movie stood there. One looked me up and down, smiled lecherously, and then turned to look at his friend. I followed his gaze to his friend's face and then I felt someone's hand shove me roughly back into my apartment although I could not tell who did it.

"You're one of Rex's girls, aren't you?" the taller one demanded. He was wearing a blue bandanna tied over his dark hair.

"N-no," I stuttered. "No."

Those were the last words I spoke that day. The man in the bandanna grabbed me by my hair and then propelled me further into the room. Both men stood between me and my front door. My only chance of escape was to run for the balcony. An image of my body hurtling over the pale green railing of the balcony to the sidewalk below kept my feet rooted to the floor. I was both petrified and paralyzed.

"You're going to behave, aren't you?" the bandanna-head guy said with certainty as he practically pulled me off the floor by my hair. His companion, who was about 5'11 and very muscular, produced a ballgag from out of his pocket and forced it into my mouth as pain shot through my jaw.

"You'll do. You'll do just fine." the musclehead said softly as he buckled the gag tightly at the base of my skull.

Something impelled me to cooperate with these two intruders and not offer any resistance. I had always thought that I'd fight to the death in a nearly unimaginable situation like this. The dark-haired guy observed the terror in my eyes and my resigned, submissive posture for a few long moments. He and his friend exchanged glances. It seemed to please them that I was being so compliant. Perhaps that's why the bandanna guy decided to offer the following explanation to me:

"You see," he said calmly, "Rex stiffed us on a shoot. We paid him for a girl and we never got to shoot any of the footage. We can't let that type of thing happen. And you'll be just fine for our purposes. Even better than we expected. Everything will be fine as long as you do exactly what we tell you to do."

They stripped me naked and I did exactly what they wanted. The photo above is one of those that they shot in my apartment that day. It wasn't until several months ago, a full year after the incident, that I came across it on a severe bondage site on the Internet..

You can see the extent of the debauchery in the Machined gallery which is now inside The Bondage Room of my Playhouse.


www.TanyaDanielle.com/join.html

- XXOO Tanya