Julie
Chapters 5 and 6
Chapter Five
Julie lay on her bed at home and rested after a second day as a ho in school. Her parents argued downstairs though they weren’t as loud as last night. Her father refused to see her and her mother had nothing really serious to say -- all of her mother’s speech was tired religious platitudes dealing with lust and endless whatevers.
Julie was surprised at her parents’ reaction. She’d known there would be a reaction of some sort but had never imagined anything so extreme and bizarre. Her parents were actually talking about putting her into a home for wayward girls. Her father balked at the expense, wondered if a clitorectomy wouldn’t be cheaper to put her firmly on a path of service to the Lord.
Julie hadn’t even known about the clitoris -- that she had one, where it was, and what it could do. She was still a little vague on the last. Thanks to Crissi she was learning.
As for service to the Lord, one of the reasons she was a ho was because she wanted a change, to step outside the status quo. She hadn’t realized there’d be quite such a thump, but so be it. Things didn’t add up, a lot didn’t make any sense. Like girls not being allowed to read the Bible. Boys could, and their Bible class was different from the good girls’; she, as a ho, now had to attend the boys’ class. She still wouldn't be allowed to read a Bible, but the teachers talked about entirely different subjects. War and the responsibilities of manhood for the boys; submission to one’s husband and male leaders for the girls.
And of course both got a heavy dose of the rapture. Bad girls didn’t go to heaven, meaning hos like her. Good girls did -- virgins. Married women were partially bad girls since they did it, but if they led exemplary lives might be accepted in heaven. Julie was beginning to believe hos went to heaven too, otherwise who would fuck and suck the men there.
She turned on her light and called Amy’s house. She hadn’t talked to Amy all day at school. She’d seen her, but Amy had always been too busy. “Mrs. Johnson, is Amy there? This is Julie.”
“I’ll see, just a minute.”
Julie waited, wondered what time her parents were going to bed tonight. She hadn’t eaten yet and her stomach was growling. “Amy?”
“Julie, I’m not supposed to talk to you.”
“Who said that?”
“You know, everyone.”
“Why not?”
“You know why. I’ve got to go.”
“But we’re friends.”
“Yeah. Please don’t call.” Amy hung up.
Julie put the handpiece in the cradle and lay on her back. No more good girls who were friends.
It was funny because she’d never would have talked to Crissi if she hadn’t been a ho, and talking with Crissi was more fun in a way than talking with Amy. Crissi could talk about anything -- school, boys, just plain stuff -- but with, and here Julie was caught for want of the right word. Crissi could talk about anything. There weren’t forbidden subjects. She could talk about good girl things too, and somehow they were more exciting when Crissi talked about them.
Julie got her notebook out of her book bag and found the page with Crissi’s number. She dialed and when the phone was answered said, “Hello, this is Julie Lester, a classmate of Crissi’s. Is she there?”
“Hi, Julie. Crissi’s on a date and probably won’t be home until late. Did you want me to have her call you?”
“Not after ten. I’ll see her tomorrow. Thanks.” Julie hung up the phone and wondered at Crissi’s mom. She sounded sane. And Crissi was dating. She’d never mentioned it.
Julie had a journal she’d kept since she was twelve, spending at least half an hour every night on it. Until Tuesday night. Now the journal of her ho life would be part catalog and part description of her discoveries. She didn’t trust her parents not to pry so had stopped making entries. Besides, the catalog portion was just too bizarre. How many, when and where and what they did. And it had always, so far, been just that. How many was never just one, never relaxed, never romantic -- it was hard to imagine a ho having romance in her life after yesterday morning.
Her journal entry for today, in her mind, not on paper: The bus ride to school wasn’t hell and Denise wasn’t a bitch. Maybe Denise realized she wasn’t intending to compete with her. Besides, her plan, made late in the night, of spitting on anyone who came too close, worked. Sort of.
Crissi said she didn’t have to do the row if she didn’t want to so she didn’t and no one seemed to notice. For some reason being naked in school was weirder today than yesterday. She was more intensely aware of people’s reactions, wasn’t caught up so much in herself. She met Crissi and they went to Crissi’s classes which meant she had no run ins with Alexander and that she was grateful for.
At boys’ gym she was again the bystander. Jerry assisted the coach in this class along with a slender boy with glasses and neither partook. Jerry actually smiled at her, or maybe it was to Crissi standing slightly behind her. Otherwise Jerry pretty much ignored her.
After class, at lunch, Crissi explained some things, quietly. Like the tall boy in glasses and how maybe he liked Julie, though it was too early to tell for sure. Did she notice, and Julie had to admit she hadn’t. She’d been studying Crissi’s technique for dealing with people and for sex.
And then Crissi had said there was more but it was secret and they couldn’t talk about it in school.
The rest of the day had gone like the morning -- Bible study, English and study hall. Crissi took art but that was only two days a week for some reason, Thursday and Friday instead of study hall. Crissi wasn’t in the accelerated program but as far as Julie could tell was smarter than most of her classmates.
The bus ride home was a bit more -- tortured wasn’t the proper word. Julie had ended up giving a dork a handjob since Denise wouldn’t fuck him and it was her turn, or so Denise said.
So Julie gave the handjob and took the yuck in her mouth since that’s what Denise said was done. It was funny, but there’d been teases and hos, in school and out, around her most of her teen life and she’d never watched what they’d done or how. Good girls never would watch.
Julie had gotten a cheer when she’d swallowed, looking up with a weird look on her face because it was yuck and tasted different but not bad.
So her catalog today was one handjob and a mouthful of yuck and it was after nine and she was hungry and it wasn’t fair.
Her catalog yesterday was more extensive and confused because she really wasn’t sure exactly what and who some of the time.
The phone rang and she ignored it. Then her mom shouted something from downstairs so she picked it up. “Hello?”
“Julie? This is Crissi, my mom said you called.”
“Back from your date?”
“No, I’m calling from the library. It’s not exactly a date but it’s simpler to call it that. What’s up?”
“I just wanted to talk, but if you’re busy, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You’re okay?”
“Today wasn’t as bad as yesterday.”
“That’s good. I’d better go. Two things. I’ve talked to Nellie and she’s going to give you blowjob lessons starting tomorrow using her boyfriend. She’s a tease; you’ll like her. And the secret is Jerry, the guy you like; he’s gay.”
“What’s gay?”
“A faggot. But don’t tell anyone and if I find out you did I’ll kill you. Slowly. Jerry’s a nice guy but you’ll have more fun, of a certain kind, with someone else. There are some, though, who’d say you have good taste. I’d better go.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Remember. It’s a secret.”
“I won’t tell.”
“Good girl. Guys like Jerry offer a great shoulder for girls like us to cry on. Plus they really understand guys. I don’t. Better go. I’m a chatterbox. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye.” Julie hung up.
Jerry being a faggot was hard to believe. Not impossible and in a way comforting. In a way scary. She still liked him and he was great to look at but that’s all it would ever be, she guessed.
Fuck.
She grinned, said it out loud. “Fuck.” Then several times, “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” It felt good. She whispered, “Cunt,” and that felt good too. Jerry would never want her. “Cunt,” she said it louder. He would never, “Fuck,” her. She wanted to scream the words but didn’t want to make her parents any more upset than they already were.
“Fuck.”
Julie got off her bed and danced through her room; whenever she touched anything, she said, “Fuck.” She disarranged everything, removed neatness from her life. She transformed the bedroom into a ho’s bedroom, filled with mystery, wonder and a strange feeling she wasn’t used to experiencing.
Chapter Six
Art class was the last class on Thursday and Julie hoped she could sit at the back of the room and hide. After lunch with Crissi and Nellie and another tease whose name she couldn’t remember everyone who’d seen them together thought they knew all about her.
Crissi was good looking and Nellie was good looking, at least she had a great body and wore a thong that covered only about two square inches. Nellie’s face didn’t live up to the expectations her body presented but that didn’t matter much -- she had great puffy lips. The other tease was slightly shy (if it was possible for a tease to be shy), average in looks but with a head of hair she constantly tossed around. Julie would give up all her freckles to look half as good.
So she’s in the presence of these girls and getting noticed but not for her brains. Alexander was nasty to her in the hall; boys mauled her as she walked through them following Crissi to class.
Besides all that Julie was supposed to go through blowjob training after school with Nellie and her boyfriend. She could hardly wait. Yeah.
Art class was mostly girls, including a couple of teases and another ho, besides Crissi and Julie, with a few boys. The boy with glasses from gym class was there and three others. The teases and ho were the surprise and how the other good girls interacted with them, as if they were people rather than fuck puppets.
Crissi went up onto the platform and left Julie to fend for herself. She found a seat in the back and watched as the teacher arranged Crissi in a pose. The weird thing was Julie knew who Crissi was representing but it somehow wasn’t right. Mary Magdalene was a housewife, Martha was the prostitute, but Crissi wasn’t standing at the table with a bowl like she was a housewife worn down with the drudgery of cooking and cleaning. Crissi as Mary looked sexy.
Crissi told her later after class the teacher wanted her just fucked look, which Crissi had no trouble doing at all.
The teacher sat beside Julie as the class drew Crissi. Neither said a word. Julie was nervous because she was naked and feeling it and the teacher was not loathsome but young, under thirty Julie guessed.
After ten minutes the teacher had Crissi take a break and put the other ho on the platform in some standard position -- standing, feet slightly apart, bent slightly to the left with her arms making a circle.
“He’s a sadist, you know that?” Crissi sat next to Julie. “Try standing in one position and not moving for ages. He ask you out yet?”
Julie shook her head.
“Tell him yes. Tonight. After seven and see if I can come along.”
“Why?”
“Because Jim’s a great fuck. That’s why. Please say yes and make sure I can come along too.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s a great fuck, silly.” Crissi winked at her and stretched her legs. “The ho on the dais is Crystal. She’s okay. No, really, she’s okay, she’s just into art and artists and is kind of obsessive. Jim will fuck you once, maybe twice and that’ll be it. No more. She thinks somehow she’s going to get him to marry her. If not him then one of the art fags.”
Julie blushed and looked down.
“They’re not really faggots. Well some of them aren’t. Here he comes. Remember, say yes.” Crissi jumped up, “Ready, skipper.” She took the teacher’s hand and led him to the platform where she replaced Crystal.
The boy with the glasses sat next to her. “I saw you in gym.”
“I’m with Crissi this week. Normally I’m a ninth grader.”
“Wanna fuck?”
“Not really.”
“That’s nice. I kind of believe you. Don’t you get cold undressed like that?”
“It’s not bad so far. It’s warm. The weather.”
“The weather is warm. And it rains mostly on the plains in Spain.”
She looked at him.
He grinned at her. “My Fair Lady based on Shaw. Pygmalion. While we’re talking about the weather, is it okay if I touch you?”
“Do you have to?”
“I think I do.” He eyed the ceiling for a moment. “Yes, I think I do.”
“Camels spit.”
“I’ve heard they do.”
“And I’m a camel.”
“One hump or two?” He gave her a lopsided grin. “I couldn’t help myself. Let me touch you and if I transgress you can cover me with spit.”
“Are you an art fag?”
“Only my analyst knows for sure. Get ready.” He held up a finger and slowly turned it back and forth. “Ready?”
“If you must.” She prepared herself for a grope.
He touched her on her nose. “Yes, you are real, all right.”
“You are an art fag.”
“How’d you guess?”
“A real man would have shoved three fingers up you know where.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“You don’t, or at least haven’t yet. I’m not sure I trust you.”
“Are you free tonight?”
“Mister, I’m the kind of girl who’ll never charge you a penny.”
He grinned. “Have you thought about trying out for theater?”
“Not really. Besides, I don’t believe they let my kind up on stage.”
“Costuming is sometimes a problem, but honey, we’re all whores.” He tapped her wrist with his fingers, lifted them, keeping them straight in the air. He widened his eyes and said, “Ohhhh. I transgressed.”
“We’ll let that one slide. What were you planning for us to do tonight?”
“Oh, the usual. Fellatio, I just love anal sex and of course the old standby,” he lowered his voice, “vaginal intercourse.”
“You’d better ask someone else, then.”
“You’re all booked up.” He sighed and slumped his shoulders. “Perhaps you can sneak in, between getting your orifices stuffed, a drive, a talk and maybe dinner. A hamburger. Please?”
“A drive, a talk, dinner and that’s all?”
“I know you’re busy.” He looked away.
“Why? I mean there are hordes of other people. Good girls.”
“Simply boring. I mean it.”
“Okay. What time?”
“You will?” He faced her. “You name the time and place and your humble art fag will be there. With bells on. It’s an old Ford and I pray you aren’t prejudiced.”
“Let’s say six, in front of school.”
“I’ll be there.”
“What’s your name?”
“Frank, why do you ask?”
“I’d just like to know.”
“And yours?”
“Julie.”
“Juliet of the Spirits.”
“Julie.”
“Oh, her.”
“Yeah, the ho.”
“Sweetheart, we’ve all sold ourselves for something.”
“I haven’t yet.”
“You will. Just wait and see. Here comes your friend. I need to get back to work. At six.”
“Thanks, I think.”
He saluted her and ambled away, both hands in his pockets.
Crissi sat next to her. “What was that all about?”
“I have a date.”
“With Jim?”
“With Frank.”
“Wrong guy.”
“We’ll see.”
“Really?”
Julie nodded. “Tonight. After blowjob practice.”
“Isn’t Nellie a sweet gal?”
“Why’s she doing this?”
“She owes me a favor.”
“I’d better not ask.”
“It’s a long story. What did he say to get you blushing like that?”
“Who?”
Crissi waved her hand toward Frank who was drawing. “You know who.”
“I’m blushing?”
“Everywhere.”
“Oh.” Julie put her hands in her lap.
Crissi grinned. “Look at Crystal. I think Jim is punishing her. She must have said something.”
“Sorry about tonight.”
“Doesn’t matter. Just, when he asks, make sure you ask if I can come too.”
“He’s not going to ask me.”
“He will. He already wants me to find out if you’ll be coming back. He likes whores.” Crissi grinned.
“We’ll see. I have chemistry this time normally.”
“Julie, some classes will be unbearable. Others are like this. Mr. Strong will give you a tremendous amount of leeway. You’ll just have to wonder what the fuck he’s doing when you’re in his office and he’s sitting behind you.”
Go on to read the next two chapters.
Julie Story Page
Chapters 1 and 2 | Chapters 3 and 4 | Chapters 5 and 6
Chapters 7 and 8 | Chapters 9 and 10 | Chapters 11 and 12
Chapters 13 and 14 | Chapters 15 and 16 | Chapters 17 and 18
Chapters 19 and 20 | Chapters 21 and 22 | Chapters 23 and 24
Chapters 25 and 26
