The Bad Girls' Club (5 page)

‘
He squirted some more cream on my legs, and knelt at my feet taking one foot in his lap. I hate people touching my feet and was about to tell him that when he began covering them with firm strokes. It was like dangling over that edge where pain and bliss converge. All I could do was gasp. His hands moved up my legs, caressing my calves. Slowly he moved up to my thighs then to my arse, his hands moving steadily and surely.

‘“
Turn over,” he commanded. I hesitated for a minute. Rubbing my back was one thing but I didn’t want to expose myself completely. “Turn over,” he repeated, and I did as I was told.

‘
I opened my eyes, fully conscious of the sky above me, the little clouds drifting by. I could hear mumbles of conversation from the other side of the beach and beach sounds, you know, crashing waves and shit like that. And I’m thinking what the hell am I doing here, buck-naked on a public beach letting a stranger rub my body?

‘
I wanted to tell him to stop, but I just couldn’t. It felt so good. He moved so that he was straddling me and squirted the cream onto my chest. Starting from my neck, he worked his way down until his hands were circling my breasts. It must have been obvious how turned on I was, my nipples have never been so hard. His hands stroked my breasts, not changing their rhythm at all, then moved down over my stomach. He moved down still stroking my belly, his hands moving lower and lower each time.

‘
He traced the “v” at the top of my legs, softly fluttering my pubic hair. I was in heaven. He spread my legs and knelt between them. I felt like I was under some kind of spell with no will of my own. He rubbed my
fleshy mound
then down further, tracing my…’ I hesitated. I couldn’t use
that
word. Beth would freak. ‘… my lips. Squirting some more of the sun cream onto his hand, he lubricated his fingers although he hardly needed to when I could feel my own… well, let’s just say I was quite wet by this stage. Beads of sweat broke out all over my body. He keep tracing my lips, going a bit further in each time.

‘
Soon, I was rearing up, pushing him in further. That felt so good that I didn’t notice what else he was doing until his tongue entered me – soft and tickling.

‘
As his tongue swirled around my clit I forgot I was in a public place. I forgot I even existed, forgot the beach and the sand and the sea, forgot myself lying there, forgot everything except the sensation of his tongue against me. I was about to come and that’s all I cared about. My body flooded with warmth, but he pulled himself away. “Not so fast,” he said and I whimpered at the absence of his touch. “Please,” I begged. “Please.”

‘
He looked at my face and laughed. He asked me if I was sure. Sure. Damn right, I was sure. I just nodded. He started again, more furious this time, rough and probing. The stubble of his chin scratched against my flesh but I didn’t care.’

‘
Again, he got me almost to the point. I couldn’t believe how wet I was. Like I was the wettest thing on that beach, including the frigging ocean. “Come on,” I urged him. And again, he stopped. “Wait,
cherie
,” he whispered. “Not so impatient. You will enjoy it more.”

‘
I was hot and sweaty and covered in sand. All I wanted was that one touch that would push me over the edge. I wanted to grab his head and grind it into me. Except, I was scared he would leave me there like that.

‘
He looked at me with a wicked grin. Then he winked.

‘
He started again, rough and hungry but always in control. His mouth grabbed at my clit, so swollen and hard, and he suckled on it, squeezing it tight with his lips.

‘
My fingers dug into the sand. I raised myself to him. My hips pushed against his shoulders and he kept suckling until I could take no more. A flash of pure heaven shot through my body and I shuddered and relaxed. Suddenly, I could do nothing but slump back.

‘
After a minute, I sat up and came back to my senses. The beach and the sea and the sand were still exactly as I left them. People ran and frolicked and screamed further down the beach. It was all like nothing had happened at all.’

I gulped down my drink. Maybe I had gone too far. Juliette and Beth both gazed at the table in complete silence. Finally, Juliette looked up.
‘My God, Imogen. You are so lucky.’

‘
Yeah, Imogen. Are you going to see him again? What happened next?’

‘
I dunno. He invited me back to his place but I didn’t think it would be same without the thrill of being in public.’

I ran my fingers though my hair, scared to look up. Suddenly I wanted to leave. I
’d been drunk on an orgy of words and the hangover started kicking in. Damn my runaway mouth. I had to tell them but, before I could speak –

‘
I don’t think I’ll ever be a real bad girl,’ said Juliette. ‘I could never do anything like that.’

‘
No, me neither,’ said Beth. ‘You’re queen of the bad girls.’ She held up her glass. ‘Cheers, Imogen. You’ve set us a high standard. Maybe we should buy you a crown to wear until one of us lives up to you.’

Then Beth and Juliette clunked glasses.

How could I have confessed the truth after that? OK, OK. I knew I was just a big chicken shit and not worthy of the Bad Girl title. I wanted to wash my mouth out with soap. Wash every dirty lie out of me. But it was too late.

‘
So. Juliette’s dare?’ Beth asked. She grabbed some notes out of her bag. ‘I was thinking we could do a makeover.’ Her eyes sparkled. ‘Do over the whole works – clothes, makeup. And hair, we could definitely do something with that hair.’

Seemed Beth loved a makeover.

‘What do you think, Juliette?’

‘
You won’t do anything permanent, will you?’ she asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

‘
Of course not,’ said Beth. ‘You free Saturday morning for some shopping?’

Juliette thought for a moment.
‘Well I told Craig I would –’

‘
Are you available or not? I mean I have plenty of things I could be doing but I’m willing to put them off to do this. But I’m not going to go out of my way for you if you can’t take some time away from your precious boyfriend.’

Juliette shrugged.
‘OK then. I can do it.’

Beth smiled.
‘So, shopping first. Then I can spend the afternoon fixing your face and hair.’ Beth studied Juliette’s face then lifted a layer of hair. ‘Better make an early start. Lots to be done.’

‘
OK,’ said Juliette. ‘But that is all I have to do? Just the makeover?’

Beth looked at me.
‘What do you think? Maybe we should send her out for drinks afterwards?’

‘
On my own?’ Juliette shrank into her chair. She’d twirled a strand of hair so tightly around her finger, I thought it would snap.

Poor Juliette.
‘I don’t think we should make her if she isn’t ready for that.’

‘
Yeah, but there isn’t much point doing the whole makeover thing then just sitting around.’

‘
Well, we don’t want to terrify her.’

‘
I’ll go out if you want.’

‘
No, Juliette. You don’t have to. Maybe the three of us could go for a drink somewhere.’

‘
I thought you said we had to do the dares alone,’ said Beth. ‘That’s what you said at the first meeting.’

Couldn
’t she see how scared Juliette was? ‘Yeah, well the makeover is the dare. Going out is just an extra.’

After that, the meeting broke up. I was more than ready to leave anyway. As I left the bar, the old codger winked at me. I had an awful feeling he wasn
’t as deaf as I’d first thought.

The cosmetics department was a foreign world to me, all glossy white surfaces and shiny packaging. Those white-coated women hovered behind their counters like rows of exotic birds in an aviary and fifty perfumes mingled in the ai
r–
artificial versions of citrus, vanilla and rose. I’d have been more relaxed in the dentist’s chair than sitting on a stool in the middle of all that.

When I was sixteen, Poppy had wanted me to sneak into this new nightclub with her and told me to pile on the makeup so I looked old enough. I
’d gone to Coles after school to stock up then spent the rest of the afternoon experimenting. After a few disasters, I got the hang of it and didn’t think I looked too bad.

I wasn
’t expecting Dad to be home though; he always worked late on Fridays. But he was there, sorting through the mail and just waiting, as though he knew something was up.

He laughed when he saw me, like he always did when I did something stupid. Not once in his whole life did I hear Dad laugh from his belly, just that hollow, dry snigger like he had something nasty in his throat.

He looked me up and down. ‘You look ridiculous,’ he said then turned back to the mail. My eyes prickled but I wouldn’t let him see me cry. I walked back upstairs and scrubbed my face then chucked a week’s pocket-money worth of make-up in the bin.

Maybe that
’s why sitting up on a stool in the middle of the cosmetics department scared me so much.

‘
She
does
have good skin,’ the makeup lady told Beth. ‘You don’t need to do too much there.’

‘
I was a bit worried about her “T” zone,’ Beth replied.

‘
Mmm,’ said the woman, pursing her lips. She got a torch thing and a magnifying mirror from behind the counter. Shining the torch on my face, she peered at my face.

‘
A little oily but the pores aren’t
too
damaged. What skincare regime does she use?’

Beth looked at me and I turned to Imogen. I was out of my depth here; I only vaguely knew what a skincare regime was. But Imogen had escaped. I spotted her across the store standing at a rack, trying on nail polish.

‘Well, I wash my face in the shower. Usually with a bit of soap,’ I answered.

‘
Soap!’ Beth’s jaw dropped. ‘Do you know what soap does to your skin?’

‘
No?’

‘
It does… nasty stuff,’ she said. ‘You need a decent cleansing bar.’

The makeup woman produced a package from behind the counter that looked a lot like soap to me.
‘We also have the one step toner and light day moisturiser to
complement
and
refine
her complexion.’ She added the packages to a growing pile on the counter. ‘And are you looking for a foundation?’

The makeup woman dabbed different colours on my jaw line.
‘She has such a pale complexion, it’s hard to match.’ She grabbed another bottle and smeared some colour on with a little spatula. ‘This one might work. It is has
luminising
qualities that will enhance her skin tones.’ She held me by the chin and turned my face for Beth’s approval.

Beth scrutinised my face.
‘I’d like to see it in natural light.’

She dragged me, and my makeup splotched face, through the store until she found some natural light she liked then swivelled my head, appraising the blobs of colour.
‘Yeah, that one is the best. Now tell me. What’s up?’

I shrugged.
‘I’m fine.’

‘
You don’t seem all that fine to me. Come on, you’re having a makeover. A whole new you. You should be jumping with excitement.’

I turned away from her.
‘I’m not sure if I’m a makeup kind of girl. This isn’t going to make me look ridiculous, is it?’

Beth grabbed my arms and looked me in the eye.
‘Juliette Mackenzie. How could you say such a thing? Cross my Armani and hope to die – you’ll look nothing short of sensational. OK?’

I nodded, still not completely convinced, and followed Beth back into the store.
‘Are you sure we need all this stuff?’

‘
Positive.’

‘
It seems like an awful lot of fuss. I only ever wear a bit of lip gloss.’

She gave me one of
those
looks. ‘Exactly, Juliette. That’s why we’re doing this.’ I guess, in her own Beth way, she was being nice.

Happy with their choice of foundation, Beth and the make-up woman moved onto my eyes.

‘They’re a rather intense blue but a little too deep set. I think a copper colour would
accentuate
the colour and
lift
the shape. I think we want
glamour
eyes.’

She tickled a brush over my eyelids.
‘Now a darker colour to shape and define.’

They added three eye shadows and two eye brushes to my pile on the counter.
’

‘
Now, we should go light on the lips so as to emphasis the eye area,’ the woman said. ‘We have some lovely lip stains. They’d look wonderful on her.’

She grabbed the tube and applied some to the back of her hand to demonstrate.

‘Oh, they’re lovely,’ said Beth. ‘Maybe I need one of those for myself.’

Imogen wandered back from the nail polishes.
‘You’ve got more stuff for yourself than Juliette. How much makeup do you need?’

‘
You know, you could do with a new lipstick yourself.’ Beth picked up a tester from the display. ‘This one’d be great on you. “True Red”. Nice and bright.’ She leaned over and whispered, behind her hand. ‘I usually call that colour
Cocksucker Red
.’ We giggled.

‘
What’s so funny?’ Imogen asked.

‘
Nothing. I was just saying that every bad girl needs a sexy lip colour.’

Imogen put on the lipstick. It looked fantastic on her. With her dark hair, she looked like a gypsy or one of those Spanish women.

‘It’s too bright,’ she said and grabbed a tissue to wipe it off.

‘
She’ll take it,’ said Beth.

We left the store with bags stuffed full of lip liners and eye liners, concealers and revealers, eyelash curlers and free gifts with purchase.

‘Now, we need to get you some decent clothes,’ said Beth.

She marched off through the shopping centre, leaving Imogen and I to dodge shoppers in her wake, straight into the scariest shop possible. I stopped. I couldn
’t go in there. Music thumped out so loud – more like a nightclub than a shop – and the whole place gave off a whole ‘we’re too cool for this shopping centre and definitely too cool for you’ feel.

Beth turned back and grabbed me.
‘Come on, Juliette.’

Inside was even worse. I tripped over a basket of clothes sitting on the floor and fell into a guy in a tight black t-shirt. He glared at me like I was last week
’s fashion and walked off. After that, I tried to be inconspicuous. But not Beth. She was a woman on a mission, rifling through racks of clothes, pulling things out and rejecting them. Lucky Imogen – left in peace. She could muck around, trying on funky sunglasses and hats.

Finally, Beth found something she liked. She held up a swirly, black skirt. I nodded. It was nice and plain. I could handle that.

‘Hey, Imogen, what do you think?’ Beth asked.

Imogen screwed up her face.
‘It looks like something you’d wear.’

Beth gave her
the look
this time. ‘And what’s wrong with that?’ she said. I’d have backed down but not Imogen.

‘
This is for Jules, not you. It’s a bad girl makeover remember, not a Beth-clone makeover.’

‘
Fine then.’

Beth folded her arms. She grabbed a tiny piece of black leather off a table and handed it to me.
‘Here, Juliette, try
this
skirt on then.’ And she wrinkled her nose at Imogen.

I looked around. A girl sat at the counter, chatting on the phone. The lights gleamed off her lip piercings. I didn
’t want to go near her but Beth gave me a shove.

‘
Don’t be a chicken. She’s just a shop assistant.’

I tried to get the girl
’s attention but she picked at her nails and wouldn’t look up at me. I waited for a pause in her conversation but she didn’t seem to draw breathe. I coughed but that did nothing. I moved around to get in her line of vision. Finally, I had to say something.

‘
Excuse me, could I please try –’

‘
Sure, hon.’ She twitched her head toward the back of the shop without looking up.

I walked into a change room, trying to close the curtain behind me but, when I pulled one end, it gaped at the other. In the end, I gave up and, squeezing myself into the covered corner, quickly pulled off my jeans. I didn
’t even have to look in the mirror to know the skirt wasn’t me. It wasn’t a skirt. It was a belt. An itty-bitty belt. I put my jeans back on and walked out.

Beth and Imogen had settled into chairs outside the change room, both sitting with their arms folded, facing in opposite directions. Beth looked up and frowned.

‘What’s wrong? Was it the wrong size? Want me to get another one?’

I held the skirt towards her.
‘It showed my knees. No one’s seen my knees since Grade Ten swimming class.’

‘
Maybe it’s time they did,’ said Beth and she grabbed me by the shoulders and marched me back into the change room. I put the skirt back on. If only it wasn’t so short. I poked my head around the curtain, trying to find Beth. She just waved at me to come out.

I shook my head.

‘Come on, Juliette,’ Beth called. She walked in and pulled the curtain away, exposing me to the store.

Imogen wolf-whistled.

Beth looked me up and down. ‘Where’ve you been hiding those legs?’

‘
Stop making fun of me, you two.’ I tried to wrestle the curtain out of Beth’s hands. I wanted to cover myself before anyone else saw.

‘
We aren’t making fun. You look great in that skirt. Doesn’t she look great, Imogen?’

Imogen nodded.
‘Now we need some sexy stockings to go with it.’

‘
And some cute tops.’

‘
And some kick-arse boots.’

Beth wandered off to find a top and I trotted behind her, tugging at the hem of the skirt. I almost fainted when I saw the price tag. It cost more money than I spent on clothes in a year. Maybe five years. Mum
’d have a fit if she found out; and so would Craig.

‘
That looks fab, babe,’ the shop assistant called out, still not looking up.

‘
Maybe we could find something a bit more practical. At K-Mart or somewhere.’

Beth choked.
‘K-Mart? You aren’t ever going to find anything like that at K-Mart. Don’t tell me… you’ve maxed out your credit card, haven’t you?’

I shook my head. I didn
’t even have a credit card. ‘It’s just that I don’t see the point...’ My fingers ran over the leather. It was so soft. And Craig had just spent all that money on his new games console.

Beth put her arm around me.
‘Trust me, honey, you’ll soon see the point. Remember, you’re a bad girl now. Who knows when you’ll need to look slutty? I mean, sexy. Now I bet you have never splurged on really good underwear either.’

She was right. I had never splurged on anything; and the gleam in her eyes was scaring me a little but deep down inside a little voice was saying that this was really fun.

***

By the time we got back to Beth
’s, all I wanted to do was nap. I would just flop on the couch with a cup of tea as soon as we got the bags unloaded. Beth and Imogen had been at each other all the way home. They were still going as we got in the lift.

‘
You could’ve at least tried the halter top,’ said Beth.

‘
I told you. The only things that ever fit me in those places are the accessories. And even the sunglasses were a bit tight.’

‘
For Christ sake, Imogen. It was a halter top. What’s not to fit?’

Beth opened the door to her flat and I stood in the doorway, stunned. It was amazing, like those rooms they have set up at
IKEA. When they first set them up of a morning, I mean, not after a Saturday of family shoppers have trounced them. I wanted to check that the television wasn’t a plastic replica and the books weren’t all printed in Swedish.

My hopes of vegging out were shattered though. I couldn
’t imagine flopping on Beth’s immaculate white sofa. It would disturb the five perfectly aligned blue cushions.