From: indexhtml@netscape.net   
      
   story: Junior Porn Star 2 of 3   
      
   Chapter 2:   
      
   I was awakened by the sound of a vacuum cleaner whirring outside my   
   door. When I opened my eyes, they stung because something that I don’t   
   think I had seen since being here was piercing my eyes: Sunshine! I   
   couldn’t believe it! The sun actually shown in this country!   
      
   I pulled back the sheets and blankets and went to the window that looked   
   out on the city. For the first time I could actually see the city   
   gleaming in sunlight. I automatically felt reborn! You could see people   
   down on the street, scurrying around with a happy bounce to their walk.   
   I could see the gold topped orthodox churches reflecting the sun on   
   everybody. It was 10:30 in the morning and the city came to life!   
      
   For the first time since being there I actually wanted to tour the city.   
   I took a shower, dressed, grabbed my tour book, cigarettes, over coat,   
   and headed down to the lobby. I ate breakfast in the hotel at one of the   
   outdoor tables. The air was clean and fresh! Everyone seemed to be   
   smiling and happy. I felt really great for the fist time.   
      
   I headed out for my self-tour of this once proud city. I visited a few   
   churches, a museum, and a few historically significant buildings. I   
   stopped at a sidewalk café about 1:00 in the afternoon. I had a cup of   
   coffee and a sandwich. After thoroughly enjoying my morning and lunch I   
   reached into my shirt pocket and retrieved my cigarettes. I patted my   
   pants pockets, then my shirt pocket looking for my lighter. “Damn!” I   
   said to my self, “I left it in the hotel room.”   
   I patted my overcoat pocket and felt what seemed to be a pack of   
   matches. I reached in, pulled them out, and opened the pack to light a   
   match. I noticed on the inside cover an address and a time scribbled on   
   it. “Huh” I thought, “I guess it wasn’t a dream.”   
      
   I lit my cigarette and pondered the address scribbled on the pack. I   
   reached around to my other pocket and retrieved the photo of Sveta. I   
   laid it on the table and sipped my coffee. “Damn, she is cute,” I   
   thought. I stared at the picture as if it would tell me what to do. I   
   looked at the matchbook too. “2:30” it said. I looked at my watch.   
   Viktor would start shooting her in less then an hour.   
      
   The address was at a very high-class hotel. It was a hotel nicer than   
   mine. A hotel that was reserved for important party officials and   
   foreign dignitaries back in the day. It was only about two blocks away.   
   I stuffed the picture back in my coat pocket, along with the matches. I   
   gathered up my cigarettes and tour-book and decided that I would   
   continue my tour of the city.   
      
   I was following the map in the tour-book to a city garden a few blocks   
   away. When I arrived there I noticed that the hotel Viktor was in was   
   right across the street. I sat on a park bench directly in front of the   
   hotel and debated whether I would go in or not.   
      
   I got up and walked across the street. I paced back and forth in front   
   of the grand entranceway to the hotel. I started to walk in. Stopped.   
   Paced some more. Stopped. Started to walk in again. Stopped. I continued   
   this ritual for ten minutes or so, when the concierge approached me.   
      
   He started to say something to me in the native language. I shook my   
   head. “I don’t speak … “   
      
   “English?” he asked.   
      
   “Yes, American. I speak English.”   
      
   “Very good then sir.” He said with barely a hint of an accent. “So have   
   you decided?”   
      
   “Decided what?” I asked.   
      
   “Whether you are coming in or not.” He said with a smile.   
      
   “I don’t know.” I said. “I am supposed to meet someone here.”   
      
   “Can I help you find something?”   
      
   I read him the room number from the matchbook.   
      
   “Oh!” he said impressed. “That is one of our VIP suites on the top   
   floor. Just go in here, turn left and you will see some telephones. The   
   elevators are behind them. Take the elevator to the 10th floor and turn   
   right. The suite will be on your left.”   
      
   “Thank you” I said.   
      
   He reached over and opened the grand door for me to enter the hotel. I   
   had the matchbook open in my hand and was staring at it as I mindlessly   
   followed the directions the concierge gave me. The hotel was all a buzz   
   with travelers, who obviously were richer than I.   
      
   I hailed the elevator. A light ‘ding’ sounded as the elevator doors   
   opened. I stepped in, pressed the button for the 10th floor. My mind was   
   swimming. “What am I doing?” I must have asked myself 10 times on the   
   trip up. ‘Ding” went the bell for the 10th floor. I stepped out. The   
   hall was quiet. It looked deserted. I could hear a few faint televisions   
   going in some of the rooms. When I approached Viktor’s door. I started   
   to knock, but then stopped myself. “What are you doing?” I asked myself.   
   “Get out now, while you still can!” screamed my conscious.   
      
   I put my ear against the door. It was quiet, but I could hear two male   
   voices inside, and the sound of metal equipment being moved and set up.   
   I stepped back, and watched my hand make a fist, and lightly wrap on the   
   door. The voices stopped.   
      
   I wrapped on it again, a little harder. The voices started again. Then I   
   heard the deadbolt unlock. The door slowly opened to the width of the   
   security chain hooked up on the inside. An unfamiliar male face with   
   wide wire frame glasses, slicked back brown hair, and a crumpled   
   cigarette in its mouth peered around the door.   
      
   “Oh shit!” I thought, “I went to the wrong door!”   
      
   The face looked at me. It was half fearful, and half curious. He looked   
   back at the other person and said something I couldn’t understand in his   
   language. I looked at the address on the matchbook, and then I looked at   
   the number over the door. “This is the right room.” I confirmed to myself.   
      
   “Viktor” I said, “Viktor Popokove. I am looking for Viktor Popokove.”   
      
   The door closed. A second later it opened again, and I saw the familiar   
   face of Viktor.   
      
   “Beel!” came the voice. “You have come my friend!” Then he held up his   
   index finger indicating to me to hold on for a second. The door closed   
   again, I heard the security chain slide over, then the door opened wide.   
      
   Viktor stepped out, and looked up and down the hallway. He reached over   
   and put his arm around me, and escorted me inside.   
      
   The room was huge! On the left was a bar with several overstuffed chairs   
   and a sofa. In the middle of the room stood a huge king-sized bed with a   
   large white headboard. Behind the bed was a huge picture window with the   
   sunlight cascading in providing a panoramic view of the city. To the   
   right was a few more over stuffed chairs and a coffee table. The door to   
   the bathroom was opened and you could see the mirrored wall, with its   
   vanity lights glowing over the shiny surfaces. Next to the bathroom was   
   another door that was closed but not latched. It looked like a study of   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)