The first thing you notice about her is the close cropped bright red dyed hair. It’s loud. Then it would be the piercings – a little silver stud through each dimple in her round cheeks, a couple of small rings through her left eyebrow, two more in her left nostril, and half a dozen through each ear. After that it’s probably the sleeve tattoo that runs from her left hand right up the arm and onto her shoulder. After all that it might well be that beyond all that shit, she’s actually a very pretty young lady with a very cute and friendly smile. She speaks with a strong Geordie accent, full of fun and laughter.
“Halloooo. My name’s Tamara Murphy, I’m 22 year old, and I’m a hairdresser from Chico, California.”
We see an older woman sitting beside Tamara on a small couch – she is also tattooed, but with bottle blonde hair down to her shoulders and not nearly as many piercings. This is Deanna, and although she’s old enough to by Tamara’s mother, she’s actually her lover. They hold hands.
Tamara talks, and Deann waits her turn. “I came out of the closet when I was still at school… I always knew I only liked women. Not girls mind, women! I met Deann when I was 20 and we’ve been together for a little ower 2 years now. I’ve told her I want to marry her, but she says it won’t work out because I’m too good for her… I just want to show her how much I love her.”
Deanna thinks that we are here to record a show about spousal abuse and she has been told that her face will be digitized before broadcast, her voice altered digitally as well. She’s still nervous about talking.
She takes over telling the story. “She can’t marry me. I’m not good enough for her. I’ve been a terrible person. She deserves better. I’m just a broken down old slapper.”
Please, remembering that you will have total anonymity, tell us your story. Why aren’t you worth of Tamara?
“When I was this one’s age I was already married, to a fucked prick in all – but I was desperate to please him. He wasn’t physically abusive or anything like that – but he had a fine line in emotional torture, and he could make me do things I didn’t particularly want to do. He was obsessed with… “ She pauses, building up courage to continue… “… with b********y…” She hides her face when she says this, Tamara squeezes her hand. She gathers herself. “He used to talk me into ‘playing’ with family dog. Jerking it off until it got hard, for a laugh. After a while he’d get me to do it when his friends were there, again, ‘just for a laugh’, ‘nothing serious’… Then one day he starts insisting that I suck the dog off infront of his friends… And I was a bit drunk, and I didn’t want to let him down, and I suppose I liked the attention, so I did it. Within weeks he had me having full sex with the dog – sometimes with his mates there watching.”