Bring 'em Back Johnny

"First we need to meet with Ricky Reynolds. He was your employer, and he should have your details, otherwise he couldn't have paid you."

"Unless it was cash," I observed, and she nodded.

"That's true, but even if that is the case, he may have the contact details for Sally-Anne, and as your fiancée she might have been living with you." I nodded, that made sense. "He might also have a way of contacting Francine, Sally-Anne's mother, and she could know something that would help. I was feeling a bit embarrassed at this stage; I had been the one with all of the time to think and I hadn't got this far.

"We can also go to the police," Susan continued.

"Fat lot of good they have been so far," I replied, and she nodded.

"True," she agreed, "but they may have information that they weren't giving you while they suspected you of... something."

"Everything more like it," I muttered, but I also smiled. It looked like we might get to the bottom of this mystery after all.

"When do we start?" I asked.

"Tomorrow, I have taken the next week off," Susan replied, and once again I was amazed at how much she was doing for me. Wordlessly I held out my arms and Susan came and sat on my lap. I held her tight for some time, and just as I was wondering if it would be OK if I kissed her a timer went off in the kitchen. We both groaned and I released her and watched as she walked away. I realised that I had to let her make the running on any relationship here as I needed her help and I didn't want to make things awkward by pushing her in a direction that she didn't want to go in.

The evening was great, we sat together on the couch, watching some movie on the TV, but spent so much of the time talking that I have no idea what the show was. Susan was brought up in the country as the second of seven children. She only had one sister, the youngest child, so she was just one of the boys and she soon learned that there would be no favours given because of her gender or diminutive size. She learned to look after herself and was proud of the fact that she didn't need protection from her brothers. The kids at their school all knew each other, and after she gave the first kid who attempted to bully her a black eye, she was treated with wary respect.

Susan worked hard and saved so she could go to university and earn her nursing degree. She was the only one of her family to take on further education after high school. Many of her brothers dropped out as soon as they could to take on labouring jobs and stayed on in the local area. But Susan had ambition, and she moved to the big city as soon as she got her qualifications and hadn't looked back since. I had to admire her determination.

She told me the stories of her life. Her triumphs, her failures, her times of elation and her times of despair. I was sad that I was not able to remember any of my experiences to tell her, but as Susan shared her life with me it really helped me to dwell less on my own problems.

I held her tight as she told me the sad stories. The ones about a beloved dog dying or a trusted boyfriend cheating. And we finished up lying on that couch snuggled up together, and somehow it felt right.

I kissed away her tears as she told a sad tale, and then our mouths met and we were kissing for real. It was perfect, but I was horrified when I realised that there was still not even the slightest reaction from my cock. Susan read my mind, and she told me in a very nervous voice that she had brought all of my medications except that one home with us. I should expect the effect to disappear within a couple of days. I smiled, and I kissed her again. That sounded promising.

She eventually set me up on the single bed in the small second bedroom and I settled down for what turned out to be a bad night's sleep. It was just too quiet compared to the hospital. I took some comfort in knowing that it would not be long before I cherished that same silence. I drifted in and out of sleep, dreaming mostly of Susan. I knew full well that I was completely smitten with her, but I also knew I would have to be very careful not to do something wrong and ruin the friendship we had by pushing her to go further if she didn't really want to. I thought she had indicated that she did during the evening, but I needed to be sure.

In the morning Susan and I each had quick showers, a quick basic breakfast of cereal and then I had to negotiate those damn stairs again. It seemed to be a bit easier when going down. Then we headed off to see Ricky Reynolds.

It turned out that Ricky had not met Susan face to face previously, and he kept looking at her and then me as if he wanted to say something, but we asked the questions we had come for because that was our priority.

"Well," Ricky said awkwardly, "can't help with any contact details for you 'cause you never told me jack shit. You always had the mo and the long hair; I think to hide who you was even more."

"So, I was paid in cash?" I asked, frustrated, and he shook his head.

"Hard to believe," Ricky said, "but you didn't want to be paid at all."

"What?" Susan interjected indignantly.

"For every film you made I had to give the money to a charity what helps street kids. When you saw that receipt, you was happy."

"Noble," Susan muttered.

"Also, you made me agree to let you... errr... rob the stable," Ricky said quickly.

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"Well, you got to talk to all the new girls before they made their first film and sometimes, if they weren't real sure they wanted to be in the business, you took 'em away and I never saw them again."

"That can't have been good for your business," Susan said, and Ricky shook his head.

"Actually, it was," he replied, "'cause I had a lot less girls changing their mind and wanting to back out at the last minute when I was paying the rest of the cast and the crew already."

"Surely they had signed contracts," I said.

"Yeah, course they did," he said, "but a pissed off girl makes for a bad film, and it all costs too much to fight over. If they want out it's easier to let them out and get someone else."

"So, did you have any information on Sally-Anne?" Susan asked.

"Had her address, but that was a rental so it must have been let again since," Ricky replied.

"Next of kin?"

"None listed."

I realised that we had a bust with this one, but I had to know one more thing.

"Why do you keep looking at us so strangely?"

"Well... are you two fucking?" he asked.

"No," I replied, "why do you ask?"

"Well, with the size of your cock the only girls what could take it were the real experienced ones. If a chick small as her could take it we could make a great Lolita film."

"It's not all that big," Susan said, "I've had to give him sponge baths and sure it is a monster when it is down, but one that shows at rest doesn't grow that much when it gets hard." Ricky laughed.

"Honey, that thing grows a shit load more than any other cock I ever seen. Let me go and get something." He got up and left the room and came back a couple of minutes later with an absolute monster dildo and showed it to Susan.

"Call this 'the audition piece' and before Johnny here decided he was only going to fuck Sally-Anne any girl that was going to do a scene with him had to show she could take this."

"That's ridiculous," Susan said, "it can't be anything like that big."

"Cast off the real thing honey," Ricky said with a grin. Susan looked horrified.

We went to Sally-Anne's last known address, but Ricky had been right. It had been let out again and the new tenant had never been given a forwarding address, so all letters for Sally-Anne had been marked 'not known at this address' and sent back.

Then we went to the police station that had dealt with the accident, but they were totally useless too. They hadn't found out anything that was even remotely helpful and they still looked at me as if I was hiding something.

It was two very disappointed people who finally got back to Susan's place after a full but sadly unproductive day. Exhausted from the stairs, I collapsed into 'my' armchair and Susan went to the kitchen to rustle up something up to eat. She had been very quiet since we left Ricky, and I was certain that I knew why. The discussion there had revealed some memories, and I knew it had happened before. As soon as Ricky had mentioned all of the dramas that my oversize cock had caused, I remembered how ever since I was old enough to be interested in sex, I had struggled to get any girls to even try to take me. Sure, they wanted to look at my cock, but they ran a mile as soon as I moved towards them, totally freaked out by the excessive size of it. One gap that the new revelation did fill in was I now remembered why I did porn movies, and it was quite simple. I did them so I could actually get laid.

I still had no specific memory, but I could pretty easily guess what had happened with Sally-Anne. She would have been one of my female co-stars first, and then we must have hit it off. As we got closer, I would have been able to get my action outside of the seedy porn movie scene, so I really wouldn't have needed it any more. We had gone 'exclusive', which spoiled things for Ricky, and that would have just been one step on the way to getting out entirely. I obviously hadn't been in it for the money, so once I could get sex elsewhere the porn industry would have needed 'bring 'em back' Johnny much more than I needed it.

But that left me wondering how Susan was going to respond to the unwelcome news. We had started to get close, but this huge complication (yes, pun intended) was now likely to scare her right off, and I really couldn't blame her.

It was a very subdued evening as we sat in front of the television, neither of us being brave enough to address the elephant, or in this case the 'horse cock', in the room. We went to bed early and I had a worse night's sleep than I had experienced the previous night. I hoped that we could find out who I was quickly so I could thank Susan and let her get on with her life. I even wondered if I should have taken Vicky up on her offer. I would not have felt so bad if I had inflicted a bit of pain on her after what she had done to me.

I was in a bad way as I left my room the next morning, but when I went into the kitchen, I was amazed to find that Susan was really cheerful and upbeat.

"Good morning," she said with a smile, "how did you sleep?"

"Not the best," I replied, and she gave me a conciliatory smile.

"Don't worry," she said, "we'll do much better today, I'm sure of it."

Then she gave me a hug and sat me down for breakfast.

You could have knocked me down with a feather. Well, OK, in the state I was in at that time that would have been quite easy to do anyway, but you know what I mean. As I ate, I pondered her sudden change of attitude. All I could come up with was that we hadn't actually committed to, or even spoken about, a physical relationship so she could easily continue the search for my identity as a friend and she didn't have to be scared of it going any further. I was sad, thinking about how close we had got the previous evening, but I was also relieved that Susan seemed to have found a way to deal with it. Now I just needed to find a way to deal with it myself.

"So, what's the plan for the day?" I asked, "we exhausted all of the possibilities we had yesterday." Susan grinned.

"Now I get to be a bad girl," she said, and she picked up her phone.

It was a pretty simple thing, but yet again something I hadn't thought of myself. Susan rang the hospital and spoke to a friend of hers who worked in the Human Resources department. It took a lot of cajoling and the calling in what must have been some pretty big favours, but eventually she wrote down some details, thanked her friend and hung up. I shook my head in admiration. Susan now had Francine's phone number and address. She was listed as the next of kin to Vicky.

"You," I declared, "are amazing."

She grinned and took a mock bow. I clapped, not in fun but because she really deserved it. Then Susan took a deep breath and dialed. I watched on nervously. I couldn't think of anything else that might help, it all hinged on this call.

Susan was brilliant. She introduced herself as a friend of the man who had been seeing Sally-Anne and apologised on my behalf for my not being there for the funeral. She explained that this was because I was in a coma at the time. As it turned out Francine was very happy to hear that I had pulled through. Apparently, she held me in high regard and she jumped at the chance to have us visit that afternoon to talk. Susan confirmed the address and the time and then hung up.

I was overwhelmed and without thinking I just held my arms out. She didn't hesitate, she just walked to me, sat on my lap and gave me a huge hug. As I held her tight, I realised that we had just crossed what was, at least in my mind, a huge hurdle. We had resumed a level of close physical contact. I smiled, if she could put up with it then I had no problems, even if it was going to be frustrating when my plumbing started working again.

It was a long wait, and one that wasn't made any easier by the fact that Susan went out for a couple of hours to run some errands. I offered to go with her but she said she was fine alone, so I had a quiet time on my own, just resting. I made sure I did a couple of sets of exercises though, just in case she asked when she got back.

The meeting with Francine was more awkward than I had expected it to be. She was obviously shocked by my appearance, and I really hadn't considered that. To me the burn scars on my face had always been there, I couldn't remember looking any different. Ricky had hidden his reaction well enough so I hadn't really thought about how people who knew me before the accident might be affected by my scars. Then we realised that Susan hadn't mentioned my memory loss either, and it quickly became clear that Francine suspected this whole visit to be some sort of hoax.

"So," Francine said brusquely, "you don't remember Sally-Anne at all?"

"No," I replied.

"Or me?"

"No."

"Or you?" That hurt and I hung my head.

"No," I gasped.

"So why did you come here?" she demanded.

"I need to find out who I am," I explained, "and I really hope you can help me to do that."

"Why would I do that?" she asked. "Why would I go through that awful pain again, and open those horrible wounds again just for someone who has no memory of me or my daughter?" She was right, I thought, why should she? I considered turning and walking out for a moment, but then the answer came to me.

"To help someone who can be helped instead of thinking about those who can't," I replied. "I have no memory of who I was, but despite that I know that I would help someone if I could."

"Do you know how hard it is to lose your child?" she asked angrily.

"No," I responded, "and even if I had known before, I wouldn't know now anyway." Francine turned away from me and started walking off, as if to say she had made her point.

"Do you know what it is like to not know your own name?" I shouted. "To not know how old you are, when your birthday is, or where you live? I don't know if I have any living relatives, if I had a pet waiting for me to come home or even where I went to school." Francine paused and turned slowly toward me, but I wasn't done. "You think it's bad because you know sorrow? Well have you thought about how bad it is for me because I don't have the memories that would let me know sorrow. I can't even mourn my fiancée properly because I have no memories of her."

Francine stared at me, appearing to consider this, and then I saw her eyes harden.

"I don't know what music I like, what sports teams I follow, what food or drinks I prefer. I don't even know what my job is, well except for..." My voice trailed off. I couldn't do that to her.

"Except for what?" Francine growled.

"I can't," I said, "please, I just can't..."

"Tell her," Susan said quietly. It was the first time she had said anything during the discussion.

I took a deep breath.

"The only name and job I know I had was... as a..."

"Go on," Francine said impatiently.

"I made, er... adult films with your daughter," I said, looking away and wishing I didn't have to say it.

"Finally," Francine said, making me look back at her in surprise. "What was the name you went by?"

"Johnny," I said. She stared at me waiting. "Bring 'em back Johnny," I finished quietly.

"Is he really that big?" Francine asked Susan, and Susan nodded.

"Sit down," Francine said, pointing to a couch. We sat.

"I know what you did for them and for her," Francine said. "You used your porn star alias to bring so many of them back to their families. You probably saved Sally-Anne from an overdose, but better than that you gave her back her sense of self-esteem. You made her feel wanted and loved when I didn't know how to do that."

"So why all of that..." I didn't know how to put it but Francine knew what I meant.

"I'm not going to be able to help much," she said, "but I had to be sure it was really you before I said anything." I nodded.

"Your real name is Russell, but I don't know your surname. You are quite well off so you spent time finding and helping um... 'lost girls' who have turned to the porn industry. You live a couple of hours away on a remote hillside with spectacular views, but I have never been there so I can't tell you much more."

I nodded, Russell suddenly sounded right, and I knew the view was amazing.

"How about cars?" Susan asked, and Francine frowned.

"I don't know much about cars," she said, "Johnny has a huge silver truck thing and Russell has some sort of luxury car. Dark blue or black I think... sorry, that's all I can tell you."

We talked for a while longer, but there was really nothing Francine knew that was going to help. I was starting to wonder if we were ever going to get a break in this investigation, and then I felt guilty. I was only thinking of myself.

"Would it be too painful for you to show me any photos you have of Sally-Anne?" I asked, "I would like to get an idea of what she was like." Francine smiled.

"I can show you," she said.

Francine was computer savvy enough to have all of her photos on her computer, and we all sat in her little study and looked at the photos of her girls as they grew up. Up until they were about twelve there were a lot of photos with their father, who was a youthful looking and quite handsome man. But he was killed in a freak hunting accident, and he suddenly disappeared from the pictures. After that you could see Sally-Anne starting to rebel in her clothing, hairstyle and makeup. When she was sixteen, she disappeared entirely from the photos, and a tearful Francine told us of how she didn't hear anything from Sally-Anne for the next nine years. While her sister Vicky had been going to school and studying to be nurse Sally-Anne had fallen in with the wrong crowd and had spent most of the time living with a man in his late thirties who had supplied her with alcohol, drugs and some very depraved bedroom activities. When he was sent to jail for a long stretch Sally-Anne had to get money for her habits somehow, and that had led her to the porn industry, which is where I had found her. We had visited Francine a few times as Sally-Anne went through the painful recovery process, but there were no more photos.

It was very late in the afternoon when we thanked Francine and got up to leave. As we were at the door, she seemed to make a decision and asked us to wait for a moment. She quickly returned with a laptop bag and handed it to me. Francine explained that it had belonged to Sally-Anne, and had been given to Francine when her place was cleaned out. She had not looked at it because she was very worried about what she might find. She asked, and I agreed, for me to look at the contents and delete anything that might disturb her before returning it. She made me promise twice that I would make sure she got it back.