Read The Feminist Porn Book: The Politics of Producing Pleasure for Free Online Page A

green glitter and singing an a cappella jazz ditty I wrote by the same name, which I became known for. This was also when I took on the name, Candida Royalle, Candida being the Latin derivative of my birth name, Candice, and Royalle, well, it just rolled off my tongue and I liked it. I thought it sounded like a rich French dessert.
    As the daughter of a professional jazz drummer, singing jazz came naturally to me, and my love for scatting led many to describe me as “the little white Ella Fitzgerald”—quite an honor! I performed in a number of a cappella jazz groups and avant-garde theater troupes, as well as my own jazz combo. But we shunned materialism in those days. I made a little money from some of my jazz gigs and occasional sales of my art, but we mostly performed for free. We felt that it was more important to perform for the love of it and to bring free theater to the masses than to worry about making money. One small problem: I still had to pay my rent. And here, finally, is where porn comes in.
    Looking for money to support my art habit, I answered an ad for nude modeling. Although I was shy about being naked in front of others—a fact that surprises people since many assume performers are exhibitionists by nature—I had drawn countless nude models in my many life-drawing classes, so I wasn’t shocked by the notion. What did shock me was when the agent asked me if I would be interested in being in a porn movie. Having never even seen one, I stormed out of his office in a huff. But my musician boyfriend at the time thought it sounded like a great way to make money, and he immediately got a lead role in an Anthony Spinelli movie called Cry for Cindy. Anthony Spinelli, at that time, was considered one of the best directors of the genre. His work was slick and professional and he was a very nice person to work for. I decided to go to the film set to see for myself what it was like.
    Contrary to my preconceived notions of porn sets filled with pathetic drug addicts and creeps with cameras, I found a large professional crew (many Hollywood crew people moonlighted on porn sets for extra money), scripts, and a very attractive cast. I reasoned that if people made love behind closed doors and there was nothing wrong with sex, then what could be wrong with performing sexually for others to view and enjoy in privacy? It was, after all, the time of “free love” and everyone was experimenting and taking part in group sex; why not hook up with a good-looking guy or girl and have it captured on film? And get paid for it to boot.
    The first thing I did was perform in a couple of loops to see if I could handle having sex in front of a camera and crew. Many of the major pornstars did these for extra cash on the side but never admitted to it. Lacking any pretense of real moviemaking, loops were created to fill the peepshow booths where guys feed quarters into slots to watch a couple of people do the old “pizza guy delivers and so does she” bit. My first foray into loops wasn’t exactly pleasurable, but at least I felt that I could do it. From there I began the audition rounds where you actually had to read lines from a script to get a role. In those days feature films shot on 16 or 35 mm were the norm and the ability to act was a plus.
    In time I gained a reputation for being a skilled and reliable actress who could be counted on to come to the set knowing my lines and deliver a good scene. For some reason I seemed to get typecast as either the wisecracking rabble-rouser and gang leader, as in Ball Game, an X-rated girls’ prison movie directed by Anne Perry, one of the few early female porn directors, or my favorite, the totally silly Hot & Saucy Pizza Girls, featuring the notorious John Holmes. I was the snooty rich wife who withheld sex from her poor horny hubby in Hot Racquettes and Delicious. One of my all-time favorite adult films that I was featured in was Chuck Vincent’s Fascination, a hilarious romp starring