Julia Fetish

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Julia Fetish
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This collection of stories was sent to me anonymously. Below is the introduction to the series and there are links to the other stories. I think they are excellent stories and well worth reading.
This a collection of brief episodes in the adult life of Julia. She has developed the art of Domination, fetishism and SM to a level unparalleled in the known history of the subjects.
She was born in the early years of World War Two, a time of austerity, of Henry Hall and Dick Barton on the wireless, of the utility mark, of ration books. Of children who grew up with respect and discipline, discipline imposed if not self-generated. Whilst Julia was not a fundamentally bad child, she could be difficult. Very difficult.
They had been out shopping on her fourteenth birthday. The war had been over for eight years but things were only just returning to what her parents remembered as normal. There were more things in the shops although money was still in very short supply and it had been decided that Julia should have a new raincoat for her birthday. At that stage in her life this represented a generous present, something she would cherish. But she had no idea quite how cherished it would become.
She chose an ice blue one to try on. It was not a cold day but the coat felt oddly cool as she put her hands into the sleeves. She had never felt material like this before and wondered how it would feel over her short sleeved dress. The material slithered smoothly up her bare arms up to her shoulders and, as she pulled the mac round her and fastened the belt it made an exciting swishing and crackling noise. There was a strong odour of rubber which added to the strangeness of the experience. It was all quite frightening and she wasn't sure if she really wanted this. But both parents, and the shop assistant, said how well it suited her and seemed quite unaware of her odd feeling. So Julia's first rubber-lined macintosh was bought.
At first she always made sure she never wore it over short sleeves. It frightened her. But it also fascinated her. She wanted to look at it. She would feel the smooth lining in her hand and stroke the inside of the mac. She decided not to keep it in the hall with the rest of the outdoor clothes but took it up to her bedroom and added it to the collection of dresses and other garments in her wardrobe. There was something about having it there, having it close to her. But she needed to open the wardrobe when she wanted to see it. She had a better idea. She hung it on the hook on the back of her bedroom door, where her dressing gown lived. If she hung it over the gown she could see it all the time she was in the room, and every time she wanted the gown the mac had to be moved. It would swish, crackle and smell of rubber each time she moved it and she would always hold it so she could feel the lining in her hand. Sometimes she could smell the rubber anyway, often when she was lying awake at night. The presence dominated her room. And her mind.
Julia's parents were strict but fair. Julia was entering adolescence, a phase which often brought her into conflict with them. Such was the case on the Defining Day. She had been cheeky and generally difficult all day, had refused to do her homework and had sneaked away after dinner to avoid having to help with the washing up. She had decided to have an early bath and could be heard running hot water and splashing around in the bathroom. She knew she was in trouble but had, once again, neatly avoided the confrontation with her father. She dried off after her bath, wrapped herself in the towel and returned to her room. Closing the door she released the towel and went for her dressing gown. She lifted the macintosh from the hook. It crackled; she could feel its odour in her nostrils, she could imagine the smooth rubber inside it. Or could she? She hesitated, holding the mac in her hand, then slowly opened it to gaze on the cool lining. She stroked her hand over it, the odour was stronger, the feel seductive. She was, far more than normally, very conscious of her nakedness. With a mixture of excitement and trepidation she started to do what she had previously considered unthinkable, inserting her arms into its sleeves and, as there was no way she could resist any more, she pulled the macintosh round her naked body. The effect was indescribable, electric, the smoothness as the rubber slithered all over her and, as she hugged it to herself, the slightest movement caused even more of it to caress her somewhere. She tightened the belt, flinching as the cold rubber encircled her waist, fastened it up to the very top and turned up the collar. There was a full length mirror on the landing and she sneaked out of the bedroom to see how she looked.
"There you are! Come down here at once!" Her father's stern voice from the hallway below hit her. She wondered what she could do but it was too late. He was already at the foot of the stairs, threatening to come up and fetch her. She turned and hesitantly descended. "Come with me" he commanded, grabbing her arm and pulling her into the lounge. I've warned you often enough and you've taken no notice. You've ignored my requests and been cheeky all day. You've skipped washing up, not done your homework and now I find you trying to sneak out without my knowing. Well, that's going just too far. Come here". He grabbed her and pulled her across his knee. He was not a cruel man so he left the thin mac in place, pulling it tightly round her ample buttocks, so the punishment would not be too severe what with the thick skirt, tights and knickers she always wore when she went out, especially on a cold night like tonight. But for the same reason the strokes would need to be as hard as he could make them and he commenced, making his hand tingle. After the first few strokes Julia was screaming and crying. He gave her twenty. "Go back to your room and stay there" he commanded. "Don't you dare come down again tonight".
Julia slunk back upstairs and shut herself in her bedroom. She lay face down on the bed. The spanking had been unbearable, the thin mac offering virtually no protection from that heavy hand and her buttocks were on fire. There was none of the underwear her father had been sure would protect her from the worst of it. The fire seemed to fill her whole body. But the mac was still cool, she was still wearing it, it helped to make the pain a little more bearable as she became conscious of the enclosing rubber once more. She wriggled a little; it was exciting to feel the lining slithering about her, especially over her now highly sensitive backside. On impulse she leapt into her bed, still wearing the mac. The weight of the bedclothes pushed the mac harder against her naked body. The warmth left by the pain was intensifying vaguely near her buttocks. The rubber felt more rubbery than ever, she tossed and turned, the warm sensation taking over her entire consciousness, she couldn't stop it, she realised she was not in control, something quite foreign to her which both terrified and fascinated her. Slowly the sensations built up until she could stand it no longer, it was unbearable but still she couldn't stop it. Finally she was engulfed in an intensity which had her screaming and thrashing around wildly in the bed, clutching the macintosh round her.
She had had her first orgasm. She lay there, exhausted, amazed, frightened, fascinated and breathing deeply. Her future lifestyle had been set, although she didn't know it. But she knew something had changed . . .




Julia Fox, the “Uncut Gems” star who appears in Steven Soderbergh’s “No Sudden Move” on HBO Max, visits Our Lady of Pompeii to discuss abuse, addiction, sex work, and starring opposite Adam Sandler despite having no acting experience.
Julia Fox Illustration by João Fazenda
Published in the print edition of the July 12 & 19, 2021 , issue, with the headline “Background Check.”
Naomi Fry is a staff writer at The New Yorker.
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“In my personal life, I’m not having, like, crazy-wild sex,” Julia Fox, the actress, said the other day. She was walking up the steps of Our Lady of Pompeii, a church in the West Village. “I prefer a great conversation, or a great meal, but people think I’m, like, this sex goddess . It must be because I never treated it like a hush-hush thing. It’s a necessary bodily function!” In the church, she crossed herself in a practiced but casual motion. Fox, who lives in the East Village, with her five-month-old son, Valentino—“It’s so hard, and the sleeping is scarce, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything”—was wearing a white T-shirt and jeans, and had her brown hair pulled back. Her lush eyelashes gave the dressed-down look a touch of va-va-voom. “I used to come here to pray, but I haven’t been in, like, ten years,” she went on, settling into a pew. “I still pray a lot. I always say, ‘You have to pray and then wait two weeks, because the universe has a two-week lead time.’ ”
Fox, who is thirty-one, is largely known for her role in Josh and Benny Safdie’s 2019 crime thriller, “ Uncut Gems ,” her first real acting job, in which she starred as a hotheaded, kindhearted bombshell, mistress to Adam Sandler’s jewelry-store owner. “Everyone was surprised I was able to act,” she said.
A career as an actress was not a foregone conclusion for Fox, who was born in a small town outside Milan—her mother is Italian—and was sent to New York City to live with her American father, a contractor, when she was in the first grade. Her childhood was itinerant and tumultuous. “I went to, like, six different high schools,” she said. “I finished school just to prove a point to people. Everything I’ve ever achieved was motivated by that. Like, this is for the haters.” She laughed, the sound rising above the piped-in church music. “We stayed at whatever apartment my dad was renovating at the time. We were, like, homeless.” She went on, “I’d go live at friends’ houses—it was always some sort of dysfunctional family with a single mom, and I’d find my way in, and my dad didn’t care.”
An older sister in one of those households worked as a dominatrix. “She would look at herself in the mirror, with the fish-nets and the PVC and the platforms,” Fox said. “And, in the back of my mind, I always knew it was an option.” In her last year of high school, she said, “I answered a Craigslist ad, when they still had the adult section, and I biked over after school and got the job.” A long-term romantic relationship with a wealthy older man, a client, followed. “I used to pray all the time that a guy would come in and take me away, and then it happened,” she said. “We were together for five years. He wanted me to marry him, and I loved him so much, but he wanted me to wear, like, Ralph Lauren Purple Label and Tory Burch. I felt like I was always playing a part.” Fox was struggling with heroin and pill addiction (she’s now sober), and she broke off the relationship. She joined a hard-partying downtown scene and published a couple of art books. “A lot of stuff about abuse and addiction and sex work,” she said. “It felt good to pull this veil off my life. Sure, it was bad, but it’s not, like, the worst .”
Fox decided to light a candle for a friend who had overdosed. “After she died, I vowed, I’m never going to get high again, in her honor,” she said. “Oh, these aren’t even real candles!” she exclaimed, seeing that the system was electric. “I’m not putting in a dollar for this! It’s a ripoff!” She changed her mind and slipped a bill into the donation box anyway.
This month, Fox appears in “ No Sudden Move ,” Steven Soderbergh’s nineteen-fifties noir, on HBO Max, as a scheming housewife. “It was hard to be a woman then,” she said. “She’s always going to be someone’s wife or girlfriend—she’s never going to have a career. So if she wants to kill a few assholes, let her!” Stepping out of the church, she pointed down the street. “I lived on Bleecker and Thompson in high school,” she said. “It was right between my school and the dominatrix dungeon, so it was really easy to go back and forth.” ♦
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