Jessica of Nazareth

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
Jessica Kristoff was a young prostitute who dreamed of a better life. One evening fate stepped in, unfortunately.

Submitted: November 01, 2013

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 01, 2013



(The following story contains harsh themes and language of an adult nature, as well as graphic violence.)


You May Ask Me For Anything In My Name…And I Will Do It.”

-- John 14:13-14



Nazareth, California?

It had started to rain by the time Jessica Kristoff hit the streets. Her cousin John had parked his SUV under a store eave and had literally pushed her out of the car under her protest.

“God Dammitt, look at the fucking weather,” Jessica’s anger steadily growing, “there ain’t gonna be no one out except the cops.”

John scratched his long ZZ Top like beard in subtle thought and give her comments his consideration for one microsecond.

“It’s not gonna last long, so get your ass out there and shake it a little more, Jess. I’m beginning to think you’re becoming too fuckin’ lazy.”

“But John…” she whined, scrounging her face into a delicate frown.

“No, Jess. I mean it!”

John glanced nervously into the rear view mirror checking for anything suspicious. In this area, a stopped vehicle immediately brought the kind of attention that no amateur pimp wanted.

“Now I’ll check back with you in about an hour and I’d better see you out hustlin cause I’ll be watchin you. Not all the time but you’ll never know when.”

With that said he quickly pulled away, as Jessica slammed the car door hard.

“Fuck you!!” Jessica called after. The SUV quickly disappeared into the now raging downpour, as she stood under the eave of an abandoned building that once served as a daycare center.

Jessica reached down to smooth out the wrinkles in her short, tight, low cut, white silk dress, then noticed a slight run in her stockings and cursed lightly under her breath, remembering how John was too cheap to spring for any new clothes for her.

She stole a glance at her reflection in the cracked daycare window. A girl with long dark hair, framed by a face that was borderline cute, stared back at her. She reached into her side purse and took out a compact and flipped up the mirror to make one final check.

Makeup lightly and evenly applied? Check.

Slight dab of rouge on the cheeks? Check.

Enough liner to emphasize her brown eyes? Check.

Enough bright red lipstick to highlight her pouty lips? Double check.

She was ready for the night.

But is the night ready for me? She giggled to herself.

She glanced around. Nothing. The streets were emptier than a church on Monday morning and Jessica knew something about churches. She had spent more than a few of those Monday mornings taking refuge after a late night of drinking, snorting, smoking, and fucking. Working a few tricks on her own time, then trying to make her long way back home but only managing to stumble upon some houses of the holy.

Sometimes she found the church doors locked.

Sorry, God is closed for the night. Please try back again during normal business hours.

She would just take out a small knife she carried for protection from her purse and jimmy the lock. Then she would stagger up the aisle before getting sick and puking into a container filled with holy water.

I’m definitely going to Hell for that.

She would finally find a pew to stretch out and sleep it off.

More often than not, instead of drifting off to a fitful sleep, she would just stare up at the statue of Mother Mary or one of Jesus. She once actually thought of praying to them and ask for their forgiveness, but she knew they were only able to offer her no more than a slight gaze of disapproval, as they looked down upon her from their lofty heights.

Tonight, as the rain continued to pour, she pulled out a joint from that said purse and the silver tone lighter Ron had given her. She lit the J and drew in the smoke, then slowly exhaled.

As the streetlights reflected a potpourri of patterns in the puddles of water that formed along the sidewalk, it reminded Jessica of the time she had snabbed a tab of acid with an old hippie, who had picked her up over at Ashbury Street. He was driving an old, rusted out, flower power, VW van, and had fallen asleep in the back during mid-fuck.

I thought I had fucked him to death! She subtly laughed, as she remembered.

She held the lighter up in her hand and twisted it to watch more of the reflected light from an overhead lamp flash off its surface. She thought of Ron. How she missed him so. He had been a regular of hers. Always upfront in paying her. Always gentle with her. Always honest with her.

He would tell her he had a wife and kids but they never understood him, never appreciated him like she did. It was the same old bullshit a lot of her tricks would tell her. Always promising they would come back one day to take her away from all this, would marry her, would make her an honest woman. Of course, they never did. She knew that but Ron never promised her anything other than to be on time whenever she could work him into her schedule for their next tryst.

But he was sweet. Sweeter than most. He never got violent with her when she would tell him their time was up. Never laid a hand on her like some of the other tricks. The ones who wouldn’t even have the decency to pay extra for beating her.

Unlike some girls, Jessica would let them slap her around a bit but they would have to pay additional for the privilege. Not all did. The one thing she had learned in this business, however, was that everything had a price and kinkiness cost extra.

Her thoughts soon turned back to Ron. Ron, who was gone. Long gone. Killed in an automobile accident along with his wife and kids.

When was that? Almost a year ago now? Jessica wondered, as she gently placed the lighter he had given her on their anniversary back in her purse and thought about that summer evening six months ago. The evening he first pulled up in his blue Mercedes and beckoned her over.

She quickly took another deep drag then dropped the J to the ground and glanced around. If John had caught her smoking on the job he would kick her butt. John thought there was nothing more of a turn off than a woman who smoked. He didn’t care how much she smoked off duty but when she was on the clock it was a definite no-no.

Satisfied he wasn’t around, Jessica turned her gaze over to the buildings a few blocks away that towered up into the city skyline. Most were high rise condominiums. She noted the various pinpoints of light that scattered haphazardly up and down the sides. Each pinpoint of light a room. In each room a story and Jessica always dreamed one day she would be part of one of those stories.

For she still held on to some scattered remnant of a dream. A dream to one day go out on her own and work a higher class of clientele. To become a high class escort. All she had to do was meet the right person then she could tell her cousin to fuck off.

Sometimes on slow nights like this, Jessica would imagine herself sprouting angelic wings to fly off in search of another life in another world. A world without pain, without sadness, without John. A fantasy world.

If it wasn’t for her situation, she would’ve of told her cousin to fuck off a long time ago but John had petitioned the court to become her legal guardian when she was only eleven. So in essence since she was still underage, she really didn’t know what to do or where to go and John would always dangle that fact over her head like some carrot on a stick just out of reach of a hungry bunny and she was a bunny. A fuck bunny. Of course, she would still threaten to leave him whenever she got mad.

“Go ahead and leave and go live out on the streets,” he would tell her, standing at the top of the stairs in the two story apartment they shared, whenever she would plead with him for her share of the fuck money, “and you’ll be dead by morning. You’ve gotta realize you’ve got it pretty good by comparison to some of the other pimps around because I don’t beat you if you don’t make quota, or rape you at my convenience.

However, you do seem to forget that you never knew who your father was and that your mother dumped you to run off with that lesbian who worked down at the corner flop house. So you never turn on your family. Cause I’m all you’ve got!”

Even though he never physically laid a hand on Jessica, he did know how to hurt her emotionally and mentally, by always bringing up her Mother. However, she had long ago just accepted the fact that it was the price she had to pay to stay.

After his Sermon on the Mount, John would eventually toss her small share for the night down to her, then run back inside his bedroom where some under age applicant was waiting to do whatever perverted thing he asked of her, so she could become part of his ‘ho circus.

Suddenly, Jessica was snapped back into the present when a Lincoln Towne car slowed down and nudged itself over to the curb.

She took a couple of steps toward the car but remained under the eave to keep out of the rain. She tried to smile a smile that invited whoever was inside the car to make an offer. The window hummed down and she could barely see inside but it appeared to be a young couple. A boy and girl maybe high school kids about her age, maybe college students out on a date in one of their daddy’s cars and just drunk enough to take a chance on a dare.

“What’s up??!!” the guy in the back seat called out. On closer inspection, Jessica noted he looked to be about eighteen or nineteen. No older.

“What’s up, yourself?” she answered cryptically, not knowing if this couple were legit or not. She thought it possible they were undercover vice cops, though Jessica had a sixth sense about things like that. Cops really were easy to detect.

“Not much,” he answered, as Jessica noticed the female driver up front had long blondish hair and a pleasant enough face.

“You looking for a date?” Jessica asked, getting to the point.

“How do we do this?” the guy seemed to genuinely ask, letting Jessica know this was probably going to turn out to be amateur time.

“You pull around the corner and I join you. Then we’ll go from there.”

The guy nodded as the car window hummed back up and the car slowly rolled a half block then turned the corner. Jessica stepped lively from under the eave in her black leather spiked heels and hastily moved around the corner to try and minimize her exposure to the rain.

As she rounded the corner, she was pleased to find the car waiting with its back door open. She quickly jumped in and found herself on a plush leather seat, next to the young guy who was dressed in a dark pin-striped suit and red tie with dark hair brushed neatly away from his forehead.

He had an air about him as being of or around big money and Jessica thought maybe she had hit the jackpot.

“Hi!” she enthusiastically greeted, “So what’s next?”

“She’s so pretty and perky,” the girl driver stated, as she turned around to face Jessica in the back seat. Jessica just smiled.

“She’s just what we’re looking for,” the young guy replied, as the girl slyly nodded in response. Jessica was becoming impatient and quickly turned to address the guy.

“So what will it be?” she tenderly asked, “Because my meter’s running and time is money don’t you know?”

The guy subtly smiled, “Yes, we all definitely know that your meter’s running. In fact, its always running, isn’t it sweetie?”

The guy then gave Jessica a weirdly stern look.

Jessica didn’t like the feel of this. Her sixth sense was beginning to burn. She started to make for the door but the loud click indicated the auto lock had been engaged. She quickly reached into her purse to pull out the knife but before she could, the purse was quickly snatched away by the girl in front.

“Listen, Bitch!!\" Jessica sternly warned the girl, \"You’d better give me that back and let me out right this fucking instant!! Or the only blow job you’ll see tonight is when I bite off his cock and stuff it down your throat!!!!”

Jessica crunched herself back against the passenger side door, bringing her legs up and curling into a defensive, fetal position.

“You don’t need to get so worked up, my love,” the guy calmly replied, “we just want to talk. That’s all.”

The man smiled in an effort to appear reassuring. To Jessica, it didn’t work.

“Who are you assholes?!” she shakily asked.

“We’re just humble servants of the Lord, dear,” the girl vacantly replied.

Jessica just rolled her eyes. She had dealt with people like this before. They came in two types. The first type would try to convert her and end up wasting their and, more importantly, her time. The other type would talk about saving her soul while she sucked them off.

“What the fuck do you want?!” Jessica suspiciously asked, while still curled up. The man continued to smile, but that smile began to take on a creepier tone.

“We just want to ask you a question, sweetheart, that’s all,” the girl answered in sing-song fashion.

“Then please get to the point,” Jessica pleaded.

“Of course, cutie,” the guy nodded, “so let me ask you, at this moment in your life will you accept Jesus Christ as your personal Lord and Savior?”

“If I do, you’ll still gonna have to pay for my time whether one or both of you fucks me or not,” Jessica stated, paranoia now competing as the main source of her ever growing anxiety.

“Just give us your answer, honey,” the girl stated, in a lot less sweet tone.

“I ain’t answering nothing,” Jessica angrily replied, as she wasn’t in the mood tonight for any born again bullshit, “so let me out of here right fucking now!!!”

“This is your last chance, baby,” the girl sinisterly continued, “will you accept Jesus Christ as your personal Lord and Savior right here? Right now?!”

“Fuck off!!” was Jessica’s only reply.

“Okay beautiful, have it your way,” the guy calmly replied, as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a long, silver bladed knife.

“Now what do you think you’re gonna do with that?” Jessica nervously asked, but was afraid to hear the answer.

“This!!” the guy cried out, as he immediately plunged the razor-sharp blade deep into Jessica’s stomach, then just as quickly pulled it out.

Jessica at first couldn’t comprehend what had just happened, until she began to feel a sharp, intense pain abruptly hit deep in her gut. She then glanced down to see a bright red stain begin to slowly spread across her white silk dress.

“What the fuck??!!” she managed to mumble, as a state of shock began to envelop her.

“Stab her again!!” the girl gleefully cried out, “make the whore pay for her sins!!”

The guy swiftly re-stabbed Jessica once more, as he sadistically cried out, “Die!!! You God-Damned Bitch!! You Harlot daughter of the Devil!!”

“NO!!” PLEASE!!! STOP!!!” Jessica loudly pleaded, as she tried with all her strength to fight off the attack but it was too late. The damage had already been done.

“Now dump the slut and let’s split!!” the girl immediately ordered, as the guy left the knife deeply embedded in Jessica’s stomach, then opened the car door and violently pushed her out onto the sidewalk.

Jessica forced herself up on her elbows, just in time to see the Towne car quickly drive off into the rain soaked night.

Her severe pain was now all encompassing. Leaving her spiked heels behind, she managed to crawl over to a brick wall and claw her way up onto her feet. She looked down once more to see that the blood had now soaked through the entire front of the dress.

John will have to finally break down and buy me some new clothes now, she amusingly thought, still somewhat in denial of the severity of her situation.

She reached down and slowly pulled out the knife and let it drop. Then using her hands, vainly tried to hold the deep slit wounds together in a futile effort to restrict the blood loss.

She now obviously knew she needed help. She needed to call 911, but her cell was still in her purse. The same purse that had been snatched away by the psychotic Jesus freak girl.

So Jessica wobbled her way along the wall to the main street. She hoped someone would drive by so she could flag them down for help. She managed to finally make it over to a streetlight by the corner before violently vomiting blood filled puke all over herself, as a result of her severe internal bleeding.

Meanwhile, the rain continued to pour. It soaked her to the bone, as it washed the puke off her dimpled chin and slender neck, as well as the continuous flow of blood from her stomach wounds. Blood that dripped down her legs and trickled over her stockings and onto the sidewalk, where it became absorbed by the rainwater gushing across the gutter.

Suddenly, she was illuminated by the headlights of a car coming around the corner. Jessica glanced into the blinding light and weakly waved with her left hand while keeping her right over her gaping wounds.

“Help me!!! Help me please!!!” she desperately cried out, but the car just raced on by as a group of teen boys inside, not realizing what had just happened, shouted out teasingly, “Woo, woo, baby!!”

As the car disappeared down the street, Jessica spotted a bus stop a ways further down. She weakly walked her way over and gently sat herself down on the bench.

Where the Hell is John? She wondered. Or a cop when you need one?

She was now becoming numb. She knew inherently that was not a good sign. For her brain, over stimulated with pain, had begun to produce a type of natural morphine.

So as Jessica’s blood continued to pour out of her body, her life slowly dwindled away. She finally released her weakening grip upon her wounds and stretched both arms across the back of the bench, then tilted her head up to let the cool rainwater wash over her face.

All at once she urinated and defecated, as she involuntarily lost control of her bladder and bowels.

How fucking embarrassing, she feebly thought.

She then glanced over towards the high rises in the distance. She wondered if some angel would soon swoop down to fly her up there. Or maybe further on to heaven where she could continue to ply her trade.

Don’t Angels have needs and desires too? she wondered.

She figured she’d at least offer her services in Heaven, as God would have to be a better pimp than John could ever be. Although she quickly realized that based on her life, if Heaven did exist she wouldn’t end up anywhere near there anyway.

So instead, she just continued to lean her head back and stare up into the rain soaked night sky.

Jessica's life didn’t flash before her eyes, but she figured it was because there was nothing worth remembering anyway. At the very end, however, she did think of her Mother.

“Mommy??!!’ she hoarsely whispered, “I always tried to be a good girl. Why did you abandon me?!”

Then, just as the rain began to subside, Jessica Kristoff ’s consciousness began to slowly subside as well, as she closed her eyes and fell into an eternal sleep.


“…And Keep Me From Harm So That I Will Be Free From Pain.”

-- 1 Chronicles 4:10


(Dedicated in loving memory to Laci Powell: 1991-2011. I miss you Laci. Your life was so joyous. Your death so pointless.)



© Copyright 2017 Amber Timber. All rights reserved.

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