Marina Lutz and Stiv Bators © by Tama Bruder


When I was 14, my father accused me of being a whore and a drug addict. But I didn’t become a whore and a drug addict until I was 19. That’s when I lost my virginity to Stiv Bators, the singer of my favorite punk band, The Dead Boys.

When we first met I was an actress. He asked me what I was working on and I said, “I just did a pilot.” He replied, “Really? Which airline?”

I laughed and fell in love with him. I think he was older than most of the other punks, and he knew I was young, so he kept his distance, but we became friends. Once I turned 18, I started giving him blowjobs in the bathroom at CB’s and he started calling me Submarina.

I was sick of pretending I wasn’t a virgin, so I decided to do it with Stiv. I knew I couldn’t tell him because despite his bragging about bustin’ all the cherries in New York, it was just Stiv curating his image. One time I met him at a photographer’s apartment to help him prepare for a photo shoot. My job was to bring the cherries.

The Dead Boys were staying at a hooker hotel in Times Square, long since renovated and now self-described as having “edgy elegance.” I called him from the street.

“I’ve got beer and I’m downstairs,” I explained.

Stiv was drunk watching a John Wayne movie. John Wayne was his favorite actor and Eric Carmen [former Raspberries’ vocalist and later solo artist] was his favorite singer. Please, Go All The Way. I took a Quaalude because I was nervous, and also because I liked Quaaludes. He passed out right after so he didn’t hold me tight and it didn’t feel so right.

On the bus ride home my crotch felt wet and I looked down and saw my pants covered in blood. I panicked because no one had ever explained the breaking hymen thing to me.

I never told Stiv he took my virginity but a year later someone else did, so Stiv called and asked me on a date. He said he felt bad because that should’ve been a special night for me and he wanted to make up for it. He picked me up at my apartment, brought roses and chocolates, and took me to see Raging Bull. When we got to the movie theater I went to the bathroom, and when I got back to my seat I stuck my hand in the large bucket of popcorn in his lap and felt something weird. He’d cut a hole in the bottom of the bucket and stuck his dick through it.

I laughed and fell in love with him again. But he was a rock star in the making and his sights were set on famous rock star girlfriends. We stayed friends. He always called when he was in town. Every once in a while he’d come over and I’d cook.

Stiv Bators on Astor Place
Stiv Bators on Astor Place. He hated being blonde cause it didn’t go
with his wardrobe. Photo © by Marina Lutz

I went on to have sex with over 350 musicians and assorted misfits. I carried a list in my pocket so I could write down names when I ran into former sex partners I’d forgotten about. I divided the list into categories like, “People I would like to sleep with in the near future,” “People who died in bed with me,” “People I slept with more than once” and “People I will never sleep with again.”

Yes, Legs, you’re on the list, but I’ll never tell you which category.


Marina Lutz and Stiv Bators by Eileen Polk
Marina Lutz and Stiv Bators by Tama Bruder. Thanks Tama!

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