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A Day In the Life Of Belladonna
SPEND AN AFTERNOON WITH BELLADONNA, and chances are you’ll find yourself bird-watching. It’s a hobby of hers. “I have three scrub jays that come into my backyard, and they are so cool,” she informs me enthusiastically by phone. “I feed them peanuts; they crack open the shells and eat the nuts. These birds are really smart.” We discuss going bird-watching together. There is also the prospect of my following her to a video game voice-over audition.
A follow-up call puts our date in jeopardy. Belladonna’s wrenched her back. Her husband/business partner, Aiden Kelly, tells me she’s in bed and can’t move. Belladonna gets on to explain that the mere act of brushing her teeth brings on stabs of pain. Having just made an appointment with her chiropractor, she suggests I tag along to watch her get cracked and manipulated. Then we chat about a more sybaritic form of therapy. Belladonna loves steam baths, saunas, Jacuzzis, facials (yeah, that kind, but the more conventional sort as well) and all forms of exotic rubdowns. We agree to meet at Voda Spa, a luxe West Hollywood establishment she frequents even when not in need of adjustment. Bird-watching is off, chiropractics is a maybe, and Voda is 100 percent. Sweet. I get to take a bath with Belladonna.
So how did she hurt her back? Was it on the job? “That, more or less, is what everybody thinks,” she tells me with a laugh. “Actually, it happened at Disneyland. I went on Space Mountain, got off the ride and realized that something was wrong.” Belladonna is still in pain when we meet at Voda, but you wouldn’t know by looking at her. She looks fine in every way, wearing skintight pants and a gray, low-cut T-shirt with a crouching woman splashed across the front. I ask her about the design. She shrugs innocently. “I don’t know. I thought the girl on it was hot.” A giant pair of sunglasses with aqua-colored frames shades her eyes. Her hair is pixieish and blond. She looks sexy and cool, more Valley of the Dolls than Southern California’s Valley of San Fernando. I attempt to shake her hand, but she’s having none of it. “I’m really into hugging,” she says, ignoring my proffered mitt as she pulls me close.
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The facilities at Voda are coed, and swimsuits are mandatory. Not surprisingly, Belladonna turns out in a great bikini that exposes her curves and tattoos. We begin in the so-called Russian room, where we sit on a wooden bench, sweating through blasts of heat. Wiping beads of perspiration from her forehead, Belladonna tells me this reminds her of a recent trip to Finland. She and Aiden were there on porn-related business. They happened to be staying in a hotel room that came with a private sauna. In heat-bath heaven, Belladonna saunaed each night to unwind from long stints of dancing and schmoozing. Then one evening Aiden came up with an interesting idea. “My husband asked if I wanted to fuck in the sauna,” she recalls. “I was afraid that he would overheat, but he didn’t, and my body was really relaxed. So that made it perfect for anal sex.” Finns traditionally cool off post-sauna by rolling around in the snow.
At Voda there’s an ice-cold plunge pool. When you’re here with Belladonna, the plunge serves two purposes: It chills you down from the blistering heat and affords a lovely view of Belladonna’s nipples, so hard they appear in bas relief against the clingy fabric of her top. Next we take a dip in the heated pool and chat about massage. “There used to be a guy who was the porn star massager,” she tells me. “He’d come to my house and massage me for, like, two hours. He usually brought me to the brink of coming. He’d get very close to my pussy but not touch it, which is what I like. At the end he would only ask for a donation, but I always gave him more than the cost of a regular massage— and it was totally worth it.”
Later, sitting against a jet in the bubbling Jacuzzi, Belladonna pronounces her back decidedly improved. Conversation drifts to the story of how she wound up in porn. “My friend was stripping for a bachelor party full of cops back in Utah, where I was living,” she remembers. “I was still a teenager and tagged along just to watch. But when the guys asked if I wanted to join in, I did. Being underage in a room After turning 18, Belladonna headed to L.A., where she did nude modeling for magazines. Adult movies followed quickly. She soon earned a reputation as the girl who would try anything in front of a camera.
It was great for business but potentially disastrous for her personal life. “I used to be scared that nobody would want to marry a woman who’s done what I’ve done,” says the girl who once jammed a baseball bat up her ass. “Aiden used to work in the Web department of Evil Angel,” Belladonna adds. “So he knew about my movies, but he didn’t know that I had briefly done high-end escort agency work in New York City. After we started dating, I told him. He said he was okay with it. I’m still waiting for him to crack and tell me it’s not okay. But six years later that has yet to happen.” Beyond being a wife, Belladonna is also a mom.
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She and Aiden have a child Belladonna was reluctant to talk about with HUSTLER. Nevertheless, she has told an Australian daily: “There’ve been times when I’ve been, ‘I don’t know if I want to do [porn films] anymore because of how my daughter’s going to have a hard time.’ So I’ve really had to talk it through with my husband and learn how to be okay with it. I know she’s going to have moments where she’s going to call me a whore or something—I did that and my mom didn’t even do porn—so I think if you know it’s going to be there, and hopefully surround her with sex-positive talk, it’ll be okay.”
Continuing our Voda afternoon, now in a sauna baking with dry heat, Belladonna slouches across the bottom strip of a threestory bleacher. As she positions herself, I notice the word loyal tattooed across her back. She’s already told me about the seahorse she has on one arm (“Male seahorses get pregnant and carry the babies; that’s awesome”) and the lotus flowers on the other (“I just love them”). When I ask about the back piece though, Belladonna simply replies, “I’m thinking of getting it removed.” That hangs in the air for a beat as the room turns unbearably hot. Back in our clothing and out on the street, we head to one of Belladonna’s preferred lunch spots, a tea-and-sandwich place called Urth Caffé.We’re about to go inside when she runs into a punked-out skateboarding friend. They discuss plans for a movie Belladonna wants to shoot with skaters, hug (of course) and promise to keep in touch.
Stepping up to Urth’s counter, we both go for turkey sandwiches, a salad made with delicious buratta cheese (essentially mozzarella filled with heavy cream) and drinks. Belladonna selects a glass of Awakened Buddha iced tea. “It’s got ginkgo leaves and ginseng root in it,” she says. “I find this tea to be calming, though it also keeps me alert.” As she talks, I rewind to that scroll of ink on her back. Why is she thinking of getting the word loyal removed, I ask. Taking a sip of tea, her tone turns somber. “I’m not loyal anymore, and it made me feel like crap.” Belladonna explains that Aiden suggested she mess around with other guys as a kink that he would get off on. He wanted to watch her with them for real and not through the lens of a camera, but she’d be with none of the men more than once. That condition was intended as an insurance policy against emotional involvement.
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However, the arrangement was never entirely mutual. Belladonna, the ultimate libertine, “has issues” with her husband even jacking off when she’s not present. Things got a little out of hand. “I asked Aiden if I could have one guy, who happens to be a performer, as a boyfriend,” she recounts. “I wanted him all the time. Aiden said that I couldn’t have this guy as a boyfriend, and I [briefly] broke up with my husband over it. What sucks is that if I didn’t let this go so far, I could have worked with the guy when I wanted to or else fucked him on the side with my husband watching.” She twists her lips in an expression of WTF resignation. Since reuniting with Aiden, she’s told him “not to let me do that stuff; it’s too dangerous.”
After lunch Belladonna decides her back is well enough to put the hundred bucks or so she’d have spent on a chiropractor to other uses: a dildo shopping spree at The Pleasure Chest, conveniently located pretty much across the street from Voda Spa. Not surprisingly, upon entering the store, Belladonna immediately gravitates to butt plugs seemingly as wide as my forearm. She uses these for “anal training” prior to shooting her butt-centric movies. She buys a half-dozen assorted vibrators and dildos, mentioning that her husband is going to have a good time tonight (while paradoxically gushing over one of the dildos being a ringer for a past assignation’s penis). She gets the total rock star treatment while paying, signing autographs for the staff and sounding like the Underwriters Laboratory of G spot ticklers as she touts the attributes of each purchase.
On the way out, Belladonna tells me how she loves dipping dildos in hot water to warm them just prior to insertion. Distracted by the memory, I can’t resist letting her know I saw her nipples at Voda. “Oh,” she says, showing off her gapped-tooth smile and laughing, “you noticed those, huh? Diiiing!” I tell her this made me wonder if her breasts are natural, hastening to add that they look great regardless. “Right now they’re lifted with a bra,” she says. “But they’re real.” “Cool,” I reply, surfing on a moment of awkward silence.
Then I pop the question: “Can I touch them?” “Sure,” she says, stepping a little closer. Standing a few feet from The Pleasure Chest doorway, I reach under Belladonna’s bra and spring loose two of the most-viewed tits in porn. They feel soft but firm and definitely not siliconed or salined. I tweak her nipples for good measure. I can’t tell if she enjoys it or is merely being a good sport. I wonder what will happen if I ask to go further. I suspect I could have gotten her to strip down in the Jacuzzi. Releasing Belladonna’s breasts, I try shifting back into regular interview mode. The conversation never really regains traction (though she does tell me that chastity belts are hot and that she’d be turned on by wearing one). Things wind down as I walk Belladonna to her SUV. She gives me a second hug and promises to call. Then she gets behind the wheel and merges into a scrum of late-afternoon traffic on Santa Monica Boulevard.
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Michael Kaplan
Photo Credit: Michael Kaplan
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