Colleen Nathan and Julie

Colleen hung up the phone after a long conversation with her mother. There was a look of consternation on her face. "Nathan, I need to talk to you."

"What's up, babe, you look a bit anxious?"

"I just had a long talk with my mom. My Uncle David and my Aunt Eleanor were killed in an automobile accident last weekend."

"I'm so sorry, Colleen. I don't remember you ever mentioning them. Were you close?" He wrapped his arms around her, in a comforting hug.

"No, we weren't close; I haven't seen them in ten years. Uncle David was my father's brother, and he and Dad were pretty much estranged. David is, or was, a minister in some fundamentalist Christian sect."

"Like the Mormons?"

"No, they weren't Mormons, but they had a lot of similarities. They didn't practice polygamy or anything like that, put they were really puritanical. Every thing they did revolved around their church."

"Sounds pretty gruesome to me." She still had heavy frown lines on her forehead. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know; there's more to the story. Mom and Dad want my cousin Julie to move in with us. She's now virtually an orphan."

"How old is she?"

"She just turned eighteen. She's always been home-schooled, but they want her to enroll in the public high school for her senior year. I'm not too crazy about the idea, but she is family."

"I guess we could do it, but it will crimp our lifestyle a little bit. Like we'll have to keep our clothes on around the house, and probably no skinny-dipping."

"Maybe we could convert her to Hedonism." They both grinned at the thought.

Colleen and Nathan had just turned twenty and had bought their first house. It was a rambling two-story, built of native stone, with a lot of weathered redwood and big windows. It had decks on both floors and a swimming pool in the backyard. It sat on five acres, surrounded by woods. While studying music at Julliard, they had cut a CD of their own compositions. Nathan composed the music and Colleen wrote the lyrics. It turned out to be a big hit and had gone platinum. They royalties allowed them to buy the house and equip it with state-of-the-art studio and recording equipment.

When the doorbell rang, Colleen, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, went to answer it. Standing on the porch was a very prim looking young woman with two suitcases by her side. She was wearing a shapeless grey dress with a high collar that was buttoned halfway up her throat, and a long skirt that touched the tops of her high-topped shoes. It had long sleeves, plain buttons, and was otherwise unadorned. She wore her blonde hair in a single braid that hung down past her butt, and big thick glasses.

"You must be Cousin Colleen. I'm your cousin, Juliette Quinn."

"Oh, Julie, hi," she said, throwing her arms around her in a welcoming hug. Julie's body stiffened up and her arms hung rigidly at her sides. "I'm so sorry about your mother and father."

"They have been called home to heaven to be with our Lord."

"Uh, oh, of course. Julie, this is my husband, Nathan."

"Come in, Julie. Welcome to our home." He extended his arms like he was about to give her a welcoming embrace. She turned her head away, picked up her bags, and marched around him into the house. "Uh, your room is upstairs, the first door on the right. Let me carry those bags up for you." "I am quite capable of carrying them myself, thank you." They watched her clomp up the stairs, a white petticoat slightly visible under the hem of her floor length dress. No upskirt view there.

"Holy moley," Nathan said as she was out of earshot, "is she uptight or what?"

"I don't think she's used to being hugged."

"Not by a man, anyway."

"Not by a woman, either. Weirdest thing—When I hugged her, her chest was hard. Even small-breasted women are soft. Then I kind of stroked her back a little, you know, like a sympathy rub, and I couldn't feel anything like flesh or muscles, just this rigid thing, like she's wearing a corset or something. No bra strap, either."

"She's flat as a board, she doesn't need a bra."

"Who knows what she's hiding under that shapeless dress? Except for her face showing, she might as well be wearing a burhka, like the women wear in Afghanistan."

"Maybe someday we'll find out," Nathan said, wearing a lewd grin. He gave her breast a friendly squeeze.

"Oo, you're so bad," she replied, patting his ass. "I guess I'd better go up and help her unpack and get settled in."

When she entered Julie's room, the first thing she noticed was the spare blanket that had been on the bottom of the bed was now draped over the mirror on her dressing table.

"It is vain to look at one's image." She had opened the medicine cabinet, leaving the mirror against the wall, and hung a robe over the full-length mirror on the bathroom door.

"There are no mirrors in your house?"

"Papa had a small shaving mirror, but that was kept in a drawer."

"You mean you've never looked at yourself?" Julie shook her head. "How do you fix your hair if you can't see it."

"Mama braided my hair, or one of the sisters." She later learned that "sisters" weren't necessarily siblings, but referred to any woman in their church colony.

Colleen helped her unpack, hanging her dresses in the closet. There were four of them, all cut them same, all virtually colorless except for one that was pure white. "That one is for wearing to church."

"I'm afraid there aren't any churches of your denomination around here."

"Then I'll just have to read the Good Book and pray on my own." Colleen noted that the only book she had with her was the Bible.

"All I see are dresses. Do you have any jeans or other kinds of pants?"

"Men wear pants; women are supposed to wear modest dresses."

"Modest?"

Julie sounded like she was reciting from a script: "Modesty is the Christian woman's responsibility to dress and behave in such a manner as to not to draw attention to oneself, not to think proudly of oneself, because we're a representative of the Lord Jesus Christ, or if we're married, we are a representative of our husband."

As Colleen helped her unpack, she discovered that the only underwear she had were plain cotton pantaloons that came almost down to the ankles. There were no bras.

She held up something constructed of elastic bands, with metal grippers attached to it. Noting the questioning expression on her face, Julie blushed, then explained, "that is a belt to hold sanitary napkins in place for when I have the curse."

"The curse?"

"It's the curse that God places on women, causing them to shed blood when they are not with child." Colleen just rolled her eyes when she heard that one.

There was one other item in the suitcase that she couldn't identify either; it was a large tubular something-or-other, that was made out of the same kind of elastic that they used in girdles, with velcro fasteners on the sides. She studied the label for a minute, then, not wanting to embarrass Julie any further, put it in a dresser drawer.

"We're about the same size, so if you ever decide you'd like to wear something else, feel free to look in my closet or my dresser and borrow what ever you like."

Colleen was hunched over her computer when Nathan came up behind her and nuzzled her neck. "What're you doing, babe?"

"Well first, I'm trying to order a book on 'what to tell your daughter about menstruation' from Amazon," then proceeded to tell him what Julie had said. "Then there's a word I need to look up."

He just shook his head. "I never realized God was such a misogynist."

She ordered the book she wanted, then Googled her mystery word. "Holy shit! Look at this!" Nathan scooted behind her and looked at the screen. "She fucking binds her breasts." The page she was looking at was a gynecomastia binder for women.

"Drag kings wear those."

"Drag kings?"

"Yeah, cross-dressing woman who want to look like men."

"She doesn't want to look like a man. She just doesn't want to show any boobs to attract a man. That's not her, that's how her parents brought her up. Uncle David was a sick son of a bitch. I wonder what other cockamamie ideas she's got in her head?"

"I have a feeling we're gonna find out. I wonder how big her boobs really are?" he mused, wearing a lopsided grin.

"Pervert!"

"Yeah, especially when it comes to you." He pulled her tight against his body and planted a big kiss on her lips.

"Oh. Oh, I'm sorry," Julie gasped, then turned to flee from the room.

"Hey, it's okay. Didn't your Mom and Dad ever kiss each other?"

"No."

Boy-howdy, mine sure did, Nathan thought to himself. His parents were always hugging and kissing and groping each other. One time his sister Susie yelled, "get a room" at them one night when they were particularly amorous.

Mine don't either, Colleen mused. She knew her parents hadn't slept together for at least a dozen years. Maybe that's why her mother got it on with the neighbors.

The following morning, they had just finished breakfast. Nathan noticed Julie sitting ramrod straight in her chair, looking very uncomfortable. Moving behind her, Nathan put his hands on her shoulders and started to massage them.

She immediately stiffened up, looking terrified. The only time a man ever touched her was in the form of punishment. She sat in church every Sunday for a four-hour service, and she was expected to pay full attention to the sermon. Her mind tended to drift off sometimes and she would daydream.

Her father would quiz her about the sermon when they got home. If she hadn't memorized it to his satisfaction, he would turn her over his knee, pull her pantaloons down, and spank her bare bottom. When he did this, she would feel something hard poking into her abdomen, but had no idea what it was.

She relaxed a bit as he continued to knead her shoulders, and eventually she sat back and enjoyed the completely unfamiliar experience. No one had ever touched her in a manner that brought her pleasure, and she was terrified. It must be a sin of the flesh, and she would surely be punished for succumbing to it.

The book about menstruation Colleen ordered arrived, and she sat down with Julie to discuss it. "This doesn't say anything about God's punishment."

"No, it doesn't. It's not a punishment, it's a perfectly normal part of life. How much do you know about sex, about how babies are born?"

"That is something a man teaches his wife, after they are married."

Oy, she thought to herself, and went back to her computer to find a book on how to teach your child about reproduction. How did she, all of a sudden, become this girl's mother?

"By the way, Julie, I put a box of tampons on your dresser; you don't have to mess with those bulky napkins anymore."

"What is a tampon?"

"It's a compact cotton device that you insert into your vagina to catch your menstrual flow. The directions are in the package."

"Where is my vagina?" Colleen just sighed and rolled her eyes. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It was a hot day, and Colleen traded her jeans and sweatshirt for a pair of cutoff short shorts and a tank top, that showed a moderate amount of cleavage. When Julie came into the room, her first thought was to avert her eyes and not witness this choice of immodesty. But something held her attention, and piqued her curiosity.

She looked at the shapely, well toned legs in front of her, and surreptitiously felt her own beneath the long skirt that she wore. Her eyes were drawn to the curved potion of her cousin's breasts that showed above her top, and the valley in between them. She stifled a gasp when Colleen bent over to pick something up from the floor and she could see her full rounded breasts, encased in her lacy bra. She couldn't stop looking.

That night when Julie undressed to take a bath, she did something she had never done before; she pulled the cover off the glass and looked at her body in the full-length mirror.

She studied her breasts; they were round and firm and sat high on her chest, with quarter-sized areolas and matching soft pink nipples. She leaned forward as Colleen had done and watched as they hung away from her body. Minus the lacy bra, they looked to be about the same size as her cousin's.

She cupped them in her hands, lifted them up, and let them drop again. Shaking her shoulders, she watched them jiggle. She ran her hands over them and noticed that her nipples swelled and got hard when she touched them. It also sent a little tingle down between her legs.

Vanity was a sin, she knew, but this wasn't vanity, it was curiosity. Her legs seemed to be as shapely as Colleen's. She noticed how her hips flared out from a narrow waist and her stomach was flat. With her fingers, she lightly combed the patch of silky blonde hair between her legs. Turning sideways, she checked out the curves of her breasts, smiling at the reflection when she bounced up and down on heels at watched them rise and fall in rhythm. Looking over her shoulder, she saw her nicely rounded buttocks.

She slipped into the hot bath and turned on the Jacuzzi jets, like Colleen showed her. Oo, that felt good. That was the second time, in the same day, she had felt pleasure on her body, Nathan's shoulder massage being the first. This must be a sin of the flesh, but somehow she didn't feel guilty at all. She felt good.

Julie's first day as a senior in the public high school was totally confusing and upsetting. There wasn't a shred of modesty among any of her fellow students. She stood out like a sore thumb in her plain long dress and flat chest.

Girls wore jeans that were so tight they looked like they were painted on, riding so high in their crotch, she could see their butt crack, and two little pooches of flesh in the front. Others wore tiny skirts that showed all their legs and barely covered their private parts.

Some wore crop tops that showed their bare midriff; many had piercings in their navel. Almost all the girls had low cut tops that flaunted their bosoms. There were all kinds of body piercings—in their ears, through their lips, tongues, and eyebrows. Many had colorful tattoos, and most wore heavy make-up.

The boys were another story. Some of them wore their pants so low, she couldn't figure out how they kept from falling off. If they weren't wearing underwear pulled up almost to their armpits, she could see their naked butt cracks.

Couples walked down the hallways like they were fused together, with arms wrapped around each other. She felt like she had been dropped into a den of iniquity.

Then there were the jocks. Normal looking, generally neatly groomed, but they mostly went with cheerleaders or girls with big boobs.

As she stared in disbelief at the other students, they stared back at her. She was on their turf. She was the freak. At lunchtime, she got her tray in the cafeteria and looked for a place to sit. She was abysmally shy by nature, and in this strange environment, she wouldn't know what to say to anyone else. She spied an empty table and sat at the end of it by herself, feeling lost and alone.

The book on reproduction that Colleen ordered arrived and she sat down to discuss it with Julie. It had simple line drawings, the kind they used in a sixth grade health class.

The drawings showed a woman's internal organs; the uterus, ovaries, and fallopian tubes. The male parts showed just a single line outline of the penis and testicles.

Julie absorbed the material about the sperm fertilizing the egg and the rest of the process. She had no idea that a man participated in the conception process; she thought God put babies in their mother's stomach. The big question for her was how did the sperm get into a woman, but she was too shy to ask.

At dinner that night, Nathan tried to draw this shy girl out of her shell. "So, Julie," he asked, "do you have a boyfriend back home?"

She blushed before answering, "No, I don't. In our community, our fathers choose the man we are to marry. Some girls marry when they are thirteen or fourteen, but Mama wanted me to finish my schooling first."

"Had he picked out a man for you?"

"Yes, but I didn't want to marry him. He is an elder in our church, and a widower. He already has eight children."

"So you don't get to marry someone you love?" Colleen asked.

"You're supposed to learn to love the man you marry, but I could never love him. He was awful."

"Maybe you'll meet a nice boy at school."

"I-I wouldn't even know what to do," she said, lowering her head and looking at the floor.

The next day at lunch, she was joined at her lonely table by an olive skinned girl wearing a hijab that covered her hair and neck. She wore a loose fitting garment that reached the floor. She introduced herself as Aliyah. "You look like you're as out of place here as I do."

Julie smiled weakly and nodded her head. She recognized Aliyah as a Muslim, who are considered heathens by her church because they don't accept Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior. Many of the Islamic faith have declared jihad, or holy war, against Christians.

Neither of the girls were as close-minded as others of their faith, and they found they had much in common with each other. Both of them were subjected to arranged marriages, and were forbidden to date or ever be alone with a member of the opposite sex.

Aliyah confessed she was hopelessly in love with a Jewish boy, and there was nothing she could. "My hormones are raging, and I'm totally frustrated."

Julie wasn't sure she knew what that meant, and asked, "So, what do you do about it?"

"Well, I masturbate a lot. That is totally forbidden by my religion, but it's easier for girls to hide it than it is for boys. Back in my country, my cousin got caught doing it and the mullahs cut his hands off."

Julie winced at the image. She didn't know what the word meant, but assumed it must be something like stealing because she had read that thieves in Muslim countries had their hands amputated.

That night, at dinner, Julie, with a look of concern on her face asked, "What does masturbate mean? My friend Aliyah says she does it a lot, and I don't know what she's talking about."

Nathan choked on the coffee he was drinking, and trying to subdue his laughter, turned to Colleen, "You get to answer that one, babe."

"Well, um, it's about sexual self-gratification. For a woman, it involves fondling your clitoris until you come."

"Come where?"

"Come is a slang term for orgasm."

"I don't understand orgasm. And what is a clitoris?"

"Sounds like you need a hands-on demonstration," Nathan said, holding his sides as he left the room.

"Come on upstairs, Julie, and I'll show you."

In the bedroom, Colleen dropped her shorts and panties. Julie stared at her cousin's bald nether region. "Your is different. Mine has hair on it."

"I shaved mine. Nathan likes it that way."

"You mean Nathan sees your private parts?"

"Sure, and I see his. Now if you're going to learn to masturbate, you'll have to take your pants off too."

Julie blushed scarlet. She was a mishmash of emotions; a bit of fear, trepidation, and a lot of titillation, which must a sin of major proportions. She pulled off her pantaloons and hiked her skirt up over her waist.

Colleen lay back on the bed, lifted her knees and spread her legs apart. Julie's eyes almost bugged out of her head as Colleen spread her lips wide apart. Julie had no idea what a woman's "private parts" looked like, or even that all that stuff existed.

Colleen gave her an anatomy lesson, identifying all the folds and lips. "This is my clitoris, or clit for short, right up here on top of my vagina. When I get sexually aroused, it fills up with blood and gets erect. Here, feel it." She found herself getting turned on by the other girl's touch.

Colleen got a hand mirror from her dresser, the kind that had a magnifier on one surface. She put it between her cousin's legs and watched while Julie examined herself.