Lovely.
“Pleased to meet you.” A girl about my age with brown hair cut unevenly extended her hand. She spoke with a heavy Cockney accent. Her stomach swelled slightly beneath the heavy, ugly dark blue uniform.
“Here are your garments, a bar of soap, toothbrush, and comb. Prayers are at 5 PM followed by dinner.”
With that, the hateful nun disappeared.
Taking the items she’d given me, I walked over to the vacant bed and sank down. As I suspected, the mattress was like a rock.
“No pillow?” I looked around.
Hannah shook her head.
“The sisters say that earthly comforts create a desire to sin. If you want to, you can ball up your towel to use as a pillow. That’s what I do.”
Hannah sat down on her bed.
“You’re very pretty.”
“Thank you.”
Hannah shook her head sadly.
“That won’t serve you well here,” she said ominously.
Again, I felt my stomach twitch. Feeling faint, I leaned back on the bed.
“What happened to your hair?”
Hannah again looked sad running her hands over her ragged hair.
“I hope you never find out.” With that, she curled up on her bed.
The next morning at 5 AM sharp we were awoken by the sound of the church bells ringing.
“Get up!” Hannah hissed bent over me. I rubbed my eyes and looked around. I was so hoping this had all been just a bad dream. Seeing the Spartan room, I knew this was no dream.
Sitting down at breakfast, I was surrounded by several hundred other unfortunate ‘wayward’ girls in various stages of pregnancy. They were all wearing the same clothes I was a drab, dark blue uniform with a blue and white apron buttoned in the back. They wore the same heavy, black lace-up shoes I was wearing. Their heads were hung low. Those who had long hair looked like they had just strings upon their shoulders. They all had numbers sewn onto their uniforms like I did.
I sat down next to Hannah. Soon a cart baring small bowls of porridge were served to us. That and an orange was to be our morning meal. I looked around as each girl sat with her hands folded and head bowed. Hannah poked me beneath the table to do the same.
Another girl named Serena stood up and read a passage from the Bible. After a brief prayer, mealtime was to begin.
Sister Bridget had warned me that no luxuries were given here, but I had at least expected full, nourishing meals. I felt like I was living a scene from Oliver Twist.
I picked up my spoon and took my first bite of porridge. A horrid, bitter taste filled my mouth. I’d never tasted anything this bad. It tasted like vinegar had been added to it. I looked around for a sugar bowl, but of course there was none.
“How do you eat this? It’s so bitter,” I whispered to Hannah. Talking was forbidden at mealtimes.
“Yes, there’s vinegar in it. Sister Bridget says it’s to remind us of the bitterness of our sins.”
“I can’t eat this.” I pushed my bowl away.
Hannah elbowed me in the side.
“You have to. If you don’t, they’ll force it down your throat. Squeeze your orange into it. That sweetens it a bit.”
“I hear talking! No talking!” Sister Margaret, a hateful old woman, walked by us.
I bent my head and squeezed my orange into the bowl. Stirring it around, I found that the sweetness of the orange made it more palatable.
As I finished the last mouthful of that hideous muck, I spotted the long table behind the partition where the sisters ate their meals.
The long table was covered with bowls of freshly toasted bread, plates of sausages and black pudding, bowls of beans, and eggs. A traditional English breakfast.
I shook my head. What a bunch of hypocrites!
The rest of the day didn’t improve. After a few hours of lessons, we were assigned our chores for the week. I was sent to work on the floors in the unused portion of the building. We had three floors to mop while kneeling on the hard floor with a scrub brush. It was backbreaking work to say the least especially while pregnant.
Once a week, we had church services with a sermon delivered by Father Patrick who was from Ireland.
“Young ladies, turn from your sinful ways! Those feelings you have stirring desires within you are straight from the devil himself. Don’t let him seduce you with his lies. Keep your legs together and your thoughts pure. Sex before marriage is a sin! An abomination in the eyes of the Lord. Don’t allow temptation to ruin you. Stay away from the opposite sex until you are married within a church by an ordained priest. Only then will your unions be blessed.”
I groaned inwardly. I think Father Patrick had learned that sermon from my own father. I fondled my crucifix necklace and thought of my mother. If she were still alive, would I be sitting here today? I decided no, I wouldn’t be. She wouldn’t have allowed my father to send me away like this.
“Veronica! Time for confession!” Hannah hissed in my ear.
Standing up, I made the sign of the cross as I moved from the pew over to the confessional line.
Hannah disappeared into the confessional booth before me. Several minutes passed. It was taking her an unusual amount of time.
Suddenly, the door to the confessional flew open. Hannah emerged clutching her blouse to her chest. She was visibly distraught as she raced out of the chapel.
After confession, it was time to retire to our rooms. Hannah was sitting on the bed crying.
“Hannah, what’s wrong?” I sat down beside her. After a few weeks, we’d grown close.
“Nothing.” She shook her head. She threw herself on her bed and covered her face with her pillow.
I stroked her back. She was due any day now. I was happy for her as it meant she’d be leaving soon, but I would be sad to see her go.
“I can’t stay here anymore, Veronica. I just can’t.” She sat up holding her pillow in her arms.
“It’s a nightmare, Hannah, I know. But how will you escape?” I had daydreamed about escaping this prison ever since I had arrived.
“I don’t know, Veronica. It’s…it’s Father Patrick.”
I narrowed my eyes trying to understand what had happened.
“What about him?”
“He does things…awful things. I can’t take it anymore, Veronica!”
A sickening realization dawned on me. What she was accusing Father Patrick of was repulsive. It frightened and disturbed me. What kind of place was this?
“Did you talk to one of the sisters?”
She shook her head.
“No, they wouldn’t believe me anyway. I just need to leave. I want to get out of here now!” She clutched her stomach.
“You’re due to give birth any day.”
She shook her head tears spilling down her face. She got up and sat over by the window.
“I’ll figure it out, Veronica.”
I worried about Hannah the rest of the day. As night fell, I heard her tossing and turning in bed. Finally, I drifted off to sleep.
A few moments later I heard a scuffle on Hannah’s side of the room. The room was pitch black. I rolled over to look and see what was going on. Several sisters were in the room holding Hannah down.
“What’s going on?” I asked peering through the darkness.
“Veronica, go back to bed.”
“Is Hannah in labor?” I heard Hannah crying and pleading with the sisters not to take her baby.
“Go back to bed.” I recognized the stern voice of Sister Bridget.
“Veronica! Help me.” Hannah’s voice moaned.
One of the sisters accidentally switched on the lights. Hannah’s white nightgown was covered in blood. She was bent over with two of the sisters holding her up. Sister Bridget stood over her with the willow switch in hand.
“Hannah!” I cried out trying to get out of bed.
“Sit down, girl, unless you want to be in trouble.” Sister Bridget swung the switch menacingly.
“
Veronica!” Hannah reached out for me with bloodied hands as they drug her out of the room.
I raced to follow her, but Sister Hazel Marie pushed me back.
“Stay here, child. This is not your concern.”
I fell back on the bed sobbing. Where were they taking her?
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
My blouse was soaked with tears. I hadn’t even realized I’d been sobbing that much until Ash brushed my cheeks.
“Ronnie, I have no words. That’s just unbelievably awful. What happened to your roommate?”
I blotted my eyes with his handkerchief. The winter sky was grey and snow was starting to come down harder. I searched his eyes looking for signs that he was disgusted or appalled by what I’d just said.
All I saw in his eyes was love.
I stood up and walked over to the window.
“They took her away. When I asked the sisters about it, they simply said she’d given birth and went home.”
Ash sighed taking a sip of his scotch.
“That was good, wasn’t it, Ronnie? Sounds like it was a nightmare there.”
I laughed sarcastically.
“Oh, that’s not the half of it, Ash. But I don’t think Hannah was okay. Two weeks after she’d been taken away one night I overheard Hannah’s mother outside arguing with Sister Bridget. She was demanding to know where her daughter was.”
Ash furrowed his brow.
“So where was she?”
“I never found out. Sister Bridget claimed she’d given birth then ran away. Later, Sister Patricia was talking with Sister Bridget saying that Hannah had been a ‘real problem’ and she was glad that her father had taken her home.”
Ash swirled the liquor in his glass.
“That doesn’t make any sense, Ronnie. Were her parents divorced?”
“That’s what scared me, Ash. Hannah’s biological father was deceased. He died when she was a baby. Hannah’s mother had never remarried, so I was never sure who she was referring to as Hannah’s father.”
I choked up again. Ash rose from his chair to pull me into his arms.
“So how did you ever escape? Did your father come for you?”
I swallowed hard. I had never wanted to tell Ash how I came to leave St. Augustine’s and what happened to my baby, but if we were going to have a future together he was going to have to know.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
After Hannah left, I found the days nearly impossible to endure. Hannah had become like the sister I’d never had in the months we had roomed together. They never gave me another roommate, so the last two months I lived there were quite lonely. For months I had watched the sisters beat and torture the other girls. I had managed to remain unscathed by the more sadistic punishments, but after Hannah was mysteriously removed from the school I knew more than ever I had to escape before I too met some unspeakable demise.
Since Hannah left, I’d been watching the gardener and his assistants who regularly came twice a week. The gardener was an older man, but his two assistants were young men around my own age. Finally, one beautiful autumn day Sister Cathleen sent me along with several other girls to hang laundry on the line.
As I bent over to pick up a sheet out of the basket, I noticed one of the young men staring at me. I glanced down and saw my blouse had opened up a bit to reveal my swelling breasts. Since becoming pregnant, I’d gone up two cup sizes so my breasts were huge. The clunky, ill-fitting bra the sisters had given me would no longer fit so I had taken to wrapping a bandage beneath my breasts to give them support.
He stood there watching me as I finished hanging the sheets. Sister Cathleen was preoccupied with scolding the other girls for some slight infraction, so I slipped around the corner of the building winking at the young man.
He was very good looking with light brown hair that spilled over one eye. He kept flipping his head back to keep the hair out of his eye. He was tall and well built. His brows flashed upward as I winked at him to follow me.
“Hi!” I smiled at him. He was even more handsome close up.
“Hi, what’s your name? I thought you girls weren’t supposed to talk to us.” He stared down at my breasts. His British accent was evident in his deep voice.
“I’m Veronica. No, I will get into terrible trouble if they catch me, but I couldn’t help but notice you.”
He laughed still eying my body with interest.
“I’m Graeme. So what did a pretty girl like you do to get sent here? I’ve heard it’s awful in there.”
I nodded.
“You don’t want to know how bad it is, Graeme.” I kept peering around the corner to ensure that Sister Cathleen was still preoccupied.
“Good to meet you, Veronica. You’re American, aren’t you?”
“Yes. I’m from New York. Have you ever been to America?”
He shook his head leaning against his rake.
“I’ve always wanted to. I’ve heard the girls there are beautiful.”
“There are pretty girls everywhere, Graeme.”
He shuffled his feet on the ground kicking some leaves.
“Not as pretty as you. How old are you, Veronica? I don’t want to get in even more trouble talking to an underage girl.”
That was an odd question, I thought. I folded my arms beneath my breasts.
“I just turned eighteen. What about you?”
He smiled broadly.
“I’m eighteen too. So why are you here, Veronica? My uncle tells me that this is a school for bad girls. Are you bad, Veronica?” He asked with a teasing grin.
I laughed. If he only knew…
“Not really, Graeme. My father sent me here.”
He looked around to see if anyone noticed us. His uncle was out of sight. Sister Cathleen was still screaming at the other poor girls.
“She’s a right strict one, aye?” He nodded in Sister Cathleen’s direction. His hair fell back over his eye.
I rolled my eyes.
“She’s not as bad as some of the other sisters.”
As we made small talk, a plan began to formulate in my mind. He kept staring at my body and I knew he had the keys to the gate. Perhaps if I flirted a bit more I could get him to sneak me out of here.
Subtly, I arched my back thrusting my tits against my blouse. A button popped open as his eyes widened.
“So, Veronica, do you think you could meet me sometime after you get out of here?” Graeme’s gaze remained focused on my swollen tits. The popped button revealed a lot more flesh to his hungry eyes.
“I don’t think so, Graeme. My father will be coming for me soon.”
He looked sad.
“So you will go home to America?”
I nodded. He seemed a bit slow on the pickup.
“So, if you want to see me, Graeme, it will have to be while I’m here. Maybe we could meet up later.”
His uncle gazed in his direction.
Graeme bent his head down and began raking the leaves quickly.
“My uncle’s looking over here. How can I meet you?”
“You have a key, don’t you?”
He nodded, still raking the leaves.
“If you come back after dark and get me out of here maybe we could do something together.” I emphasized ‘together’ stepping closer to him to press my breasts against his arm, I was ready to do anything to escape.
Graeme looked at me. His eyes burned with desire as he cupped my swollen breasts through my uniform. Due to the heavy uniform, my pregnancy wasn’t quite as visible.
He licked his lips as he squeezed my tits.
“Maybe. What’s in it for me?”
My eyes darted around. Any moment Sister Cathleen would be looking for me.
“I could--”
He grabbed my hand and placed it on his cock.
“--suck my cock?”
I nodded quickly. The thought sickened me, but I would do anything to leave this hellhole.
“When?”
“Tonight after lights out. Yo
u have the key to unlock this gate. Be here at 10 PM. I will sneak down here. I do what you want then you let me go. No one will know.”
Graeme scratched the back of his neck.
“I don’t know. If the nuns catch us and my uncle finds out, he’ll be really mad at me. He might fire me.”
Quickly, I unbuttoned my top and flashed him my tits.
“Wow.” His eyes bulged.
I nodded.
“Whatever you want. Come on, no one will know. I just need your help please.”
Graeme tentatively reached up to squeeze my tits together. He felt the full weight of them in his hands. His thumbs flicked my hardening nipples back and forth.
“Your tits are huge! Yeah, sure, I’ll be here. But I want more than a blowjob.”
Biting my lip, I quickly buttoned my top. Any minute now Sister Cathleen could appear around the corner.
“What?” I whispered impatiently.
“Can I come on your tits?”
I waved my hand. That was all?
“Sure. Please, please just be here at 10:00!”
I raced off around the corner casting one final glance at the handsome gardener. He was still gazing after me his cock rock hard poking through his pants.
Later, that night, I was poised at my window. It was 9:50 and all was quiet. Slipping out of my room, I tiptoed down the long corridor. Suddenly, I heard a noise from Sister Bridget’s room. It was the sound of laughter from her TV. What a hypocrite, I thought. She denied all of us the ‘luxury’ of television stating how sinful it was, but she herself could watch all she wanted.
I walked quickly down the hall my long nightgown whipping at my bare legs. Just then, I caught a glimpse of another white nightgown. It was Serena, a British girl who was nearly eight months pregnant. She was sneaking food from the kitchen.
“Serena!” I whispered.
She spun around and nearly dropped the piece of roast chicken in her hand.
“Veronica! What are you doing?”
“I’m leaving, Serena! I’m getting out of here,” I whispered back.
“How?”
“The gardener’s assistant, Graeme is coming. Please don’t say anything.” I pleaded with her.
Serena stood looking at me. I could tell she was weighing her options. She finished her chicken leg and tossed it into the trashcan.
Insatiable Series Box Set Page 22