He Made Me

Synopsis:

Jeri is 18 and wants to become a famous pornstar, she wants to be the erotic fantasy of thousands of people and she's willing to do anything to achieve her goals. However, she soon realizes that she needs help and when it comes in the form of Michelangelo, "Mikey", a much older, unattractive and yet well endowed man, who claims that he can mold her into a star, she accepts it against all reason, embarking herself on a quest to transform into a (erotic) dream version of herself, Jules Sperme, a girl with a tattoo of a giant octopus spreading its tentacles from her asshole, where its mouth is depicted, to her buttocks, lower back and thighs.

To launch her career and create a fan base to make it last, they come up with a fictional backstory: Jules had to become a stripper when she got kicked out from her conservative parents' house for her "freak boyfriend", an older tattoo artist, who eventually becomes jealous and publishes a sex tape for revenge after being dumped. The success of the video, however, makes the fictional Jules realize that she could have a career in porn and finally getting the fake boobs she craves so much.

As for now, the real Jules has made most of this story come true: she works as a stripper and she has published her fake sex-tape. Can dreams coexist with reality though?

In this chapter:

GOTCHA! Jeri's old life catches up, as her high school friend discovers her first porn video, while Morgan, the stripper who fancies herself the alpha-dog of the strip club, exacts her revenge against our girl for wearing a jeweled butt-plug at work. To make matters worse, Mikey is a literal ocean away! And yet, Jules is not as alone as she thinks...

Fetishes and WARNING:

Piercings,

smoking fetish

, exhibitionism, tattoos.

This story is not meant to give a realistic or accurate portrait of the internal workings of the sex industry, it's just a fantasy.

************

He made me

7. Jules' highs and lows

"Jeri, you there?"

Fuck fuck fuck! React, damn it! But how? One of my high school friends had stumbled on my porn video! How do you respond to

that

?

No, wait, she thought it was a doppelganger…

Unless she was toying with me, perhaps because she wasn't one hundred percent sure of her suspicions!

Would Amy do that?

She could be mean…

But never with friends. No, I had to believe that my blue hair and the new piercings and tattoos truly had misled her and that, by the way, could be my one chance at containing this thing!

"Yeah, sorry, but this is… Eerie! She does look like me!" I replied, pretending to be watching the video to take time. "She's hot, though!"

As crazy as it sounds, I needed to know what she thought of Jules. She had called her "disgusting" and "freak", sure, but maybe she was exaggerating just to make her anecdote more interesting. Perhaps she would like the new me…

Or perhaps not: those adjectives hadn't been chosen randomly, they came from deeply ingrained ideas of decency which didn't allow for people like me.

"Just 'cause you are, girl! I don't know, if one likes these alternative types, I guess…"

Ok, from the tone of her voice, at least now I was confident that she didn't really suspect me. Was it too hard to imagine little old Jeri doing something this crazy? Had I been that boring?

"Perhaps I should write her and meet!" I went on, not really knowing what to say.

"Ah, I don't think it's possible: it was actually revenge porn, so she didn't post it! Poor girl…"

That comment warmed my heart: at least she wasn't slut-shaming Jules!

It was time for the big question. With my heart pounding so hard that my head felt about to explode, I took such a big drag from my cigarette that I burned it to the filter and I finally asked:

"And what did the others say?"

"Oh, I haven't heard from them in ages!" she replied a little sad. "Anyhow, I was thinking that we could prank them: I could send them the link and tell them that you went crazy and had a… Well, I guess an early-life crisis and became this chick!"

I had to lie on the bench for that, to avoid fainting.

"That would be so fun, but if somebody slips with my parents, it might kill them!" I replied out of breath: could she hear how much my voice was quivering?

"Yeah, you are right, I don't want to put you in more trouble. How are things with them, by the way?"

Phew! I lit up another cigarette and collapsed on the bench: the last few minutes had drained me.

"They aren't. I've not heard from them in months. We are a very stubborn family. My sister says that they pretend I don't exist."

Which reminded me: Cara didn't watch porn, right?

"So, where are you? What are you doing? You disappeared!" she asked, a little worried.

I gave her the same answer I used with my little sister:

"I'm in California, waitressing like there's no tomorrow in San Diego, figuring out life."

"Cool, cool," she replied, failing miserably at not sounding pitiful.

I needed a break from this torture, so I asked:

"And you? Tell me about this Jaden guy!"

The dam opened and a deluge of words swept me over, but that was okay, because it allowed me to steer away from dangerous topics that would force me to lie and risk being exposed.

When it was finally over, I wanted to puke. I felt stupid, and scared, and stupid and so damn lonely! Did I mention stupid? What had I been thinking? I had left with the plan of becoming a porn star and keep it hidden from everybody, but now I was wearing my career, it was literally and permanently inked on my body! There was no hiding for me! What in the world was I going to do? I felt so confused, so lost!

"Why?": this question kept popping in my mind, interrupting every thought, making it impossible to clear my mind. The Jeri in me was asking why I had done such a stupid thing as changing my looks forever. She was panicking, full of regrets and ashamed. The part of me that was Jules was instead wondering why it was occurring to me only now that these would be the consequences and why I cared so much, since now I looked awesome. She was ashamed too, but for my weakness and lack of pride.

The truth was that being in another city, surrounded by new people, had given me the illusion that I was living in a parallel universe, Jules' universe, and had allowed me to bury all these worries about my previous life very deep. Mikey had urged me to think that way and maybe I should've been mad at him for that, but his influence had set me free! For once, I had just done what

I

wanted to do, instead of what everyone else wanted me to do. The only thing to really be angry about was how unfair life was.

"Why can't I just be who I wanna to be?" I whined out loud, beginning to cry pitifully.

These words echoed in my head, setting a rhythm for my sobbing, while I saw through the haze of my tears passersby looking at me, perhaps even empathizing with me, but unable to do anything about it.

Venting that way brought some clarity. I had made my own bed: the original plan wasn't viable anymore, I couldn't make my two lives coexist and I had actually chosen one, Jules', because deep down I knew that, no matter the obstacles I was facing presently, that was the only path that could eventually lead me to happiness. So, for now I had kept Jeri's world away, but the day would come in which I had to reveal myself to everybody and, in all likelihood, loose them all. That was just how it was and I had to face it: even Amy, who was an otherwise loyal friend, couldn't help but judge Jules. Actually, since she didn't understand me anymore, I had to start considering her already lost.

So, I really ought to make Jules' life work, then, because there was no backup now, I was all in.

And I was crying alone. Jeri would've had someone to console her, but as Jules I didn't have any real friends apart from Mikey, who would be away for two weeks.

Right then I felt a terrible chill in my heart. Mikey liked me. He loved having sex with me, sure, but he truly enjoyed our time together, I could see it: I was a fantasy come true, mine and his, after all. And yet he hadn't made me really privy of his life. I was living in his house, but there was always an invisible barrier between us. His vacation was a perfect example: a bomb dropped out of nowhere. As intimate as we had grown, we didn't have a real intimacy.

Same story with Patrick: he was fascinated by how adventurous I was, I could make him laugh and cum so hard that he was ready to work for hours just to have me, but in the end he had rejected me. Jules was a fantasy for him too, the girl who loved anal, but that was it. No matter how much you love a fantasy, how important it is for you, after you cum, you go on with your ordinary life, and there was no place for extraordinary Jules there.

Why were people so obsessed by reality? Why couldn't they settle for the fantasy? I had done it! I decided to

be

Jules, not to

play

Jules, I had burned every chance to go back. Who wouldn't want to do that?

These questions didn't find an answer either then, at the beach, or later, when I went back home after having left all my tears by the ocean.

When Mikey called, later that evening, I didn't tell him any of what had happened. Perhaps I felt embarrassed that I hadn't foreseen such an obvious development: after all, he had just disseminated my video everywhere on the internet exactly to make sure that as many people as possible would see it, and that inevitably included those who knew me! He immediately suspected that something was off, however, but I managed to convince him that I was just lonely, which was a version of the truth anyway.

The rest of the night was dedicated to smoking and depressingly watching a TV show I didn't really like, but the morning after I decided that I had moped enough! I had to remember my original plan: in order to deal with the stigma of being a sex worker I had to surround myself with people who were positive about it, and the best way to find them was to look among fellow sex workers! There had to be people like me, somewhere, and I would find them!

Driving in the night towards the club was my favorite ritual. It was all about setting the mood and reminding myself that, whenever I danced on the stage, I had all those men at my feet, both literally and figuratively. So, I usually cranked the volume of the radio all the way up to the maximum and put my egg vibrator between my legs in such a way that the stimulation would be faint, so that it would fill me with sexual energy without any risk of accidents.

That night, however, there was another reason to harness that confidence, besides making money rain: it was time to get out of my shell and make some friends, besides Lotus! After the first few conversation attempts with the other strippers, I had basically given up on getting to know new people at the club. In complicated environments like that, it was a tendency of mine to find those I immediately clicked with and stick to hanging with them. That was Jeri, though: as Jules, I wanted to be better.

As soon as I arrived, I started with the bouncer, Teddy, a big, muscular bearded man that could squeeze someone's balls just with an angry stare, as I had witnessed him doing more than once: with the excuse of needing a lighter, I tried to light up a conversation too. Apparently he had fought with his boyfriend and so he vented with me a little. Wait, if he was gay, that meant that this terrifying man was technically a Teddy "bear"! This thought almost made me laugh quite inappropriately, but he didn't notice and in the end I even gave him some advice.

The house-mom didn't let me have nearly as much satisfaction, because there was the grumpy one that night on duty.

"Hi everyone!" I said very cheerfully entering the crowded changing room.

Several other smiles met mine:

"Are you high or something?" chuckled a girl, whose name was something like Sammy, or Sandy.

Perhaps I had exaggerated a little, so I just shrugged:

"Just feeling good!"

Since everyone was busy taking out outfits, fixing makeup and whatnot, I decided to get ready too and headed to the showers: my octopus needed its glimmering pacifier!

When I walked out of the stall still naked and fumbling with my towel, I found Lotus in her bathrobe staring at me.

"Oh dear me," she said in the flattest, most inexpressive tone, pretending to be shocked and covering her eyes.

Trying not to laugh, I shrieked and covered my boobs. She smiled shyly in a way that reminded me of children, when they do it knowing that they shouldn't, because they have been naughty.

"See you on the floor then," she said, taking my place and then flashing me just before she closed the door, her straight face as usual not matching the scene.

Back in the changing room I put on my outfit and did my makeup. All my heroic attempts at smalltalk with the two girls on my sides were rewarded by polite but measly monosyllabic answers. It was a bummer, but they were kind of busy anyway. Besides, there were plenty of other strippers I could make friends with on the floor, which now was probably almost empty anyway. Not to mention the waitresses.

One of the golden rules to make money stripping is "don't give the club more money than they already take from your garter", which is a nice way to say that you have to be kind of cheap and never buy anything there. For that reason I had always steered away from the bar, unless it was needed to hook up with some guy. This way, however, I had missed a way to socialize with my coworkers. So there I was, with my alcohol-free drink, trying to understand how to approach the other strippers: they were annoyingly all chatting with someone else!

"What does a girl like you do in a place like this?" said a masculine voice at my side: Terry, one of the bartenders.

"Trying to make friends, but they are all talking all the time and I don't know how to find my way in!"

"Now you know how it feels for us guys!"

"Aw, poor darlings!" I mocked him.

"That's very true. Anyhow, don't worry, at a certain point they will have to stop talking!"

They didn't, but at least I got to know a little more about Terry.

My stage show put me in a better mood: there was a guy who kept tipping as if he was in the middle of an auction war! So, after a quick bathroom break, I immediately reached him.

"Hi, I'm Azure! Did you like the show?"

My admirer, a very skinny and tall man, seemed very uneasy, but that was nothing new: it had happened before with other customers who were first-timers.

"Is this your first time here, babe?" I asked with a warm smile, sitting down next to him and putting my hand on his.

He quickly retracted his hand, as if I was radioactive.

"I'm sorry, I can't do this…"

I was at a loss. What just happened?

"Ok, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I'll leave you alone, but can I just ask what I did wrong? You seemed to really like me until a few minutes ago…"

"Look, I don't judge, but honestly I don't want to help you kill yourself," he replied defensively.

The muscles in my forehead were about to have a cramp in their effort of raising my eyebrows.

"Come again?"

He looked around and then whispered furtively:

"I know you do drugs and you are such a nice young lady… I don't want to finance something that is going to ruin your life."

"Yeah, that's noble, but the thing is, I don't do drugs. What makes you think that?"

Surely not my "alternative" appearance, considering how he'd been ogling me!

"Well, I don't want to rat anyone out…" he mumbled uneasy.

Morgan! I knew it! I mean, there was no way of telling for sure, but I knew it was her: the fucking bitch was spreading rumors now! Oh, I was so gonna smack her stupid face for this! But first, I was going to prove who was best at this game! So, being careful not to blink in order to irritate a little my eyes, I looked around and saw the cunt talking to another customer and giving a peek in my direction every once in a while. Now my eyes were all watery and I could begin my act:

"Why everyone hates me here?" I whined, tearing up and staring at him.

"Oh, no, sweetie, I don't hate you, I'm just trying to help," the man hastily clarified, spurred by guilt.

"No, you are helping them! I'm not an addict! The girls in this club decided for some reason that they don't like me and now they are doing everything they can to prevent me from making any money and kick me out!"

The guy was still skeptical, but real tears were now flowing down my cheek: I was kind of an expert on this technique!

"Why do you even believe them and not me? Who goes around and tells people whether their colleagues are junkies? God! Why do you think I haven't been fired if that was true? Don't you see that they are using you to sabotage me?"

Yeah, now it was dawning on him, the genius.

"Oh, I hadn't–"

Should I have used the pity card now? Tell him that I needed the money to, I don't know, escape abuse? Nah, that was something an addict would do.

"And the worst part is that it's everyone! And I don't know why! Everyone hates me: the strippers, the waitresses and now the customers too! I'm sorry…"

At that I got up, sniffled and headed towards changing rooms.

"Wait, wait!" he hissed. "I'm sorry, alright? Look, why don't you let me offer you a drink?"

I just nodded and sat back down, blowing my nose on a napkin.

"Will you think that I'm an addict if I tell you I really like Coke?" I blurted, bursting in a shy laugh.

That made him smile too and lightened up the atmosphere: if I wanted him to buy entertainment from me, I needed to be a little entertaining, other than pitiful.

When my Coke arrived we talked a little: he shared his name, Bill, and I, feeling that he was curious about my situation, shared the episode that had started the feud, when Morgan basically accused me of being a whore just because I always wore a jeweled butt-plug at the club. It was a good occasion to arouse him without losing the pity angle and the truth (or at least a version of it) always worked better than any lie anyway.

"I mean, I've been slut-shamed so many times and I thought that this would be a safe environment for people with a stronger sexual drive, you know? And instead same shit, different place!"

"Yeah, that's weird! But girls are known to be mean with each other…" he commented, trying to look shrewd.

After that, I made him talk about himself a little and some time later I was walking hand in hand with him towards the lap dance area. I couldn't spot Morgan anywhere, but I really hoped that the bitch was watching me prevail: in the end, he bought 15 minutes worth of lap dances.

"Hey, how jealous do you think she will get, if I go in the changing room and fan myself with the bills you gave me in front of her?" I whispered to his ear as I led him back to the main floor, with a naughty smirk.

"Man, I wish I could see that!" he chuckled.

"And all thanks to you, my hero!" I replied, giving him a kiss on the cheek and making him blush.

And that's how you get regulars! Now, time to find the bitch and god help her when I did!

"Smoke break!" a familiar voice announced, taking my arm.

Lotus. I wanted to talk about what had just happened, but as soon as I saw her face, I had to say:

"Damn, you look cool tonight!"

Whereas she usually wore very little makeup, that day a holographic lipstick made her lips shimmer in a rainbow of colors under the lights of the club, and the elegant shape of her almond-eyes was highlighted by a pink eyeliner blending into a golden metallic eyeshadow that had green and pink reflections depending on the angle from which you looked. Her cheekbones had a sort of iridescent colored sheen too.