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Sisters in Sin

Page 3

by Primula Bond


  She absently put her hand over mine. Her breath was coming quickly. ‘It had been so long, we didn’t talk at all, then I was down on the floor, and my skirt was right up over my, you know, and he undid my shirt, oh, he used to love my, my breasts, the first time he touched them he was like a boy with candy, he used to suck my nipples for hours like they were sweets, we had so much time when we were younger, and I love that feeling, it makes me want him so badly, and he’s changed, you see, he really is a man now, he’s been working out, he’s had other girls, he’s much tougher, much stronger, not so, what, tentative, quite the reverse, he was determined and in a hurry and anyway his swim shorts, well, they came off easily, and there it was, his beautiful cock standing up so stiff and ready, even bigger than I remembered, and, oh, God forgive me, I should have stopped him then, everything was telling me I should stop it, I was late, the Sisters were expecting me, like I’m late now, I had to stop it, but I was so wet and he was rock hard and then he –’

  ‘Go on!’ I was holding her hand tightly, almost pleading with her to continue. ‘How did it feel when he fucked you?’

  ‘He just thrust inside me once, that’s all it took, and then we both came like an explosion. I screamed. It was almost the last sound I was allowed to make for weeks after.’ She closed her eyes and tipped her face up towards the grey sky and stuck the tips of her fingers into her mouth as if to silence herself. ‘It made me feel like a virgin all over again.’

  She opened her eyes and we stared at each other. Her words fell round us like petals. Madonna sang a song once about being touched for the very first time, but this was sexier than anything I’d ever heard. And I knew exactly what this young woman meant. It made me want to be a virgin all over again, too.

  Not really thinking, I took her fingers away from her mouth and kissed them, one by one. She watched me, watched my mouth, watched her hands as I laid them down in her lap.

  ‘You’ve told me all this,’ I said hoarsely. ‘But I still don’t know your name.’

  ‘Natalia. Sister Benedicta. When I was outside I was Natalia.’ She snatched my wrist and looked at my watch. ‘Enough talking. Enough questions! I must hurry. I’m going to lose him, I’m going to lose the convent. It’s all going to be a disaster!’

  ‘Let’s go, then.’ I cursed myself for breaking the spell. I helped her along an even narrower alley. It was dark now, and my feet were killing me, too. Lights and sounds were booming from what sounded like a big open space not far away.

  ‘They’re preparing for the Carnivale in the piazza,’ she murmured, waving her free hand vaguely.

  ‘Perhaps I can think up some excuse for why you’re late. Say it was my fault in some way.’

  She looked at me and her eyes were huge like a Manga cartoon.

  ‘You’d do that? But you said you needed my help?’

  I laughed. ‘I only need you to tell me the way back to my hotel. I was totally lost back there, you see. And then I found you.’

  Another silence surrounded us, this time like a shroud, tucking us into our private corner. Even the distant music thumped like a heartbeat. Totally lost, that was it. And I was still lost, looking into those amazing big eyes, childish and helpless, asking for my help, still backlit with that strange sexy fire that told me she was harder than she looked and knew more than I did. I wondered how long it would take before she pulled away from me. But she didn’t move. She was staring, too. What did she see? An older, more knackered version of herself, perhaps, with green eyes instead of blue, more laughter lines, but blonde like her, slim like her, sex-mad like her …

  She started to speak, but bit into that luscious pink lower lip again and instead leaned against me. I let my arm steal round her waist. The warmth of the thick fabric outlined her hidden curves and it had now gone from strangely comforting to slowly arousing, holding her close to me as we made slow progress round another corner and I recognised the glass showroom I had visited earlier that day. I caught the eye of the proprietor as we hurried past it, wondering what Signora Martelli would think seeing the hard-nosed buyer from London tottering along the street arm in arm with a beautiful nun.

  ‘Hey, another thing you haven’t told me, Natalia. If everything’s so rosy between you, why were you arguing with Carlo just now?’

  She shook her head. Her ankle must have been feeling better, because she diverted us briskly round the back of the shops.

  ‘Go on. We’re friends now, aren’t we?’

  She glanced at me. Her eyelashes were so long. ‘He’s been getting rough with me. Rougher than usual.’

  She stopped beneath an old, crumbling wall. Dry ivy spilled over it and a large looming building cast its shadow from the garden inside.

  ‘Natalia? I can help you, remember?’

  ‘We’re here,’ she muttered, pointing at a tiny wooden door in the wall. ‘This is Santa Maria Convent.’

  I lifted her chin.

  ‘Tell me what he did to you.’

  ‘Oh, bella signora! Don’t worry, it’s nothing like that.’ She shook her head. ‘He didn’t hurt me. I liked it. But some of the things he makes me do – I know it’s because he wants me to love what we do, get addicted, so much that I won’t be able to stop. So much that I’ll have to leave the convent.’

  ‘So why the argument?’

  ‘The usual. Trying to persuade me to stay with him. The stupid thing is our life together is just like being in the convent, now. We have to stay indoors. We can never go out, in case someone sees us … He went too far, that’s all. Over the top. And I got angry. As you saw.’

  We both jerked up our heads like a pair of reindeer at a quiet rustling sound inside the garden behind us: leaves, or footsteps – we couldn’t tell. No one was passing along the alleyway.

  ‘You can tell me anything, Sister.’

  I liked the way that sounded. She paused. I could swear I heard someone clear their throat behind the door, but I kept my eyes on her.

  ‘OK. But only because I’ll never see you again. He went on so long today, made me drink wine and water all afternoon, wouldn’t let me go to the toilet, and then he made me lie on my stomach so that I was pressing down on my bladder and there was this swelling, stinging sensation, actually it felt good, but then he took me from behind, all the time pressing his hands on my stomach, and he fucked me until the piss started to come, it was trickling hot down my legs, on to the bed, and I was getting embarrassed trying to stop it, but he was laughing and then I was starting to come as well, and I couldn’t tell the difference because it was this hot building sensation and then as I came I totally pissed myself and it was such a relief and an amazing climax and he was shouting with pleasure, he loved it, but it was all a big messy gush but then it felt wet and dirty and when it stopped I was totally humiliated. I was furious with him!’

  I gave a low whistle. ‘You got me there, girl. Even I’m a little – OK, I’m shocked by that!’

  ‘You see? I have to decide. I have to leave him.’

  She pushed her face close to me, daring me to stop her I think. She was so close that I moved a little and our lips brushed tantalisingly. Again we paused, our lips warm and damp against each other. I wanted to go further and kiss her. I had never kissed a woman on the mouth, but it was like the Katy Perry song. I wanted to kiss a girl I’d met less than an hour ago because I knew I would like it.

  But the girl said, ‘And now I have to leave you.’

  Something like panic gripped me. ‘You don’t have to go in there, Natalia. Come with me to my hotel. Leave them, leave him, come with me back to London!’

  A smile tugged at her lips, and I felt a crazy urge to giggle. It sounded mad, but marvellous! This beautiful girl, by my side, coming home with me from Venice like a glittering, glorious souvenir. ‘It’s more complicated than that – oh, I don’t know your name!’

  ‘I’m Jennifer. And it doesn’t have to be complicated. What’s the point of going in there and saying your prayers when you just want to
be free?’

  ‘But I need to be in there, too!’ She put her hand on the door, resting it there as if it had a heartbeat. ‘I love being in here. It’s tugging at me now, physically tugging me to come back. Already Carlo, the memory of his kiss, his touch, his body, it’s all gone –’ she flicked her fingers dismissively ‘– and now I’m home.’

  ‘You’re not dismissing me as well!’ I took her by the arms, forcefully this time. Her head fell back and her veil slipped very slightly so that now I could see silky strands of hair falling into her eyes. ‘Come with me, now, Natalia! Just do it!’

  She opened that luscious mouth and I’m certain she was going to say something amazing like ‘Great idea! I’m there!’ but instead she squealed and suddenly stumbled awkwardly backwards through the little door, which had swung wide open. I tripped over her and fell into the garden too, still holding on to her, and then just as suddenly the door slammed shut behind us.

  We were in a small dark garden with starved-looking lemon trees standing around like statues but giving off an unusually strong scent for winter. Illuminated at the far end was a marble statue of the Virgin Mary, hands together and eyes cast to heaven.

  ‘I haven’t got time for this.’ I let go of her irritably. ‘What is it, Natalia? Why are you making silly faces at me?’

  But her eyes just went wide as if she was scared.

  ‘They used to call these convents the pleasant prison, didn’t they? Girls who didn’t have the call, but were just plonked here by their fathers because they had no prospects.’

  Natalia was mouthing something at me, but I reckoned she was just teasing. ‘Well, you’re welcome to it. If you want to stay here, that’s your funeral, or wedding, or whatever. Just tell me the way back to the Danieli Hotel, and I’m outta here.’

  I turned towards the gate. An enormous, rough-looking man was barring the way. I couldn’t see his features in the darkness, but he was tall and broad, arms crossed and legs planted far apart, and he was holding some kind of rake or hoe. He jabbed his finger towards Natalia.

  ‘What’s his problem? Why doesn’t he say something?’

  ‘He’s deaf. He’s saying we have to go inside right now.’

  ‘Not me, sugar. I’ve got a business meeting to get to.’

  But he shoved us both violently across the dusty garden and into the looming building, through another tiny door and up some stairs and before I could say another word we were in a kind of stark waiting room which smelt of tea and wet newspapers. There was no light, nothing but a table, a fire grate where one weak finger of flame flickered, and another enormous statue of the Virgin Mary. In the silence that followed I thought I could hear the distant sound of angelic singing.

  ‘So the sinner returns.’

  A door beside the statue opened and in walked my stalker.

  I screamed in fright and grabbed Natalia. But she simply stroked my arm, calming me. The tall figure was motionless, one gloved hand still holding the door open. Then Natalia stepped away from me and dropped to her knees.

  ‘Oh, Mother Superior. Please forgive me!’

  I knelt to shake her and hissed, ‘Natalia! What are you doing? Christ, we have to get out of here! This guy – he’s been stalking me –’

  But she flung herself forwards, spreading her arms out on the floor. Her cloak and skirt rode up the back of her legs and above her white thighs I saw what knickers nuns wear. What looked like puffy cotton bloomers, the kind of thing a long-legged model might wear on the catwalk with teetering platforms and a military waistcoat. Her little white hands touched the man’s shiny black shoes poking out of his long black coat.

  ‘Natalia! Get up!’

  The stalker turned in my direction and put one hand up to silence me. No need. I was already frozen to the spot. Then he started slowly undoing the buttons from the collar in a kind of creepy striptease, over the chest, down the front. And as it fell open I caught a whiff of that smoky scent, and with a sick lurch in my stomach I remembered my fantasy. It was incense, and it was coming off the burning candles and silver incense burners positioned all round the room.

  ‘So, Sister Benedicta.’

  Natalia raised her head from the floor. ‘Yes, Mother?’

  I stared, aghast, as the hat and coat came off and the stalker was not a man at all. At least, the figure was dressed as a nun, so presumably it was female. But she was still very masculine. Tall, thin, with an almost translucent white face, slightly hooked nose and large, glittering black eyes. She kept these eyes on me as she directed the inevitable question at Natalia.

  ‘Where have you been?’

  Natalia’s eyes filled with tears. She said nothing.

  ‘She’s been with me!’ My voice clanged in the dank room. ‘I was lost in one of the back streets, and she helped me.’

  The Mother Superior handed her disguise to a second nun with freckles and a dimple whose comely figure had glided silently into the room. She folded the clothes and held them in front of her, waiting. There was a long silence punctuated only by a bell tolling somewhere in what sounded like Morse code. It was as if they had all the time in the world. The angelic singing, which was louder now, trailed through the still open door beside the statue.

  ‘You’re lying. I don’t know who you are, signora, but you are evidently a woeful influence. I know exactly where, and with whom, Sister Benedicta has been. Not just today, but several times before.’

  I clamped my lips shut. So, not stalking me at all. Stalking my little Natalia.

  Mother Marta picked up a thin little switch from the table. I hadn’t noticed it before. It was black leather, like a riding crop, and had a bunch of fine leather tassels dangling off the end. Nine tails?

  ‘You have been out of the convent, which is forbidden, Sister. I think seven times. The seven deadly sins. That amounts to once a month since you arrived here and took your initial vows.’

  I saw something shift behind Natalia’s eyes as she maintained her awkward prone position on the floor. She had visited Carlo much more than once a month, I was sure of it. Clever girl.

  ‘And you have been going into a house belonging to Carlo Martelli, and you have been alone with him there, naked with him there, and fornicating with him there.’

  Natalia’s face was draining of all colour. I took a worried step towards her but the whip came down smartly in the air between us.

  ‘You have broken every vow, committed every sin it is possible to commit whilst a member of this house. Lying to us, hiding from us, scuttling through the city like a dung beetle, speaking to others and fornicating with a man. Do you wish to stay here, or do you wish to be expelled? Either way you will be punished. You know the rules. You vowed to keep to them when you entered.’

  Expelled. I wish to be expelled! I was willing Natalia to say it. This horrible woman made normal activities, normal pleasures, sound so evil and dirty. Natalia was best out of it. I was even prepared to take whatever the punishment was alongside her if she would only come away with me.

  ‘I know the rules, Mother, and I vow to keep them. I want to stay here, Mother. And I wish to be punished in front of my Sisters.’

  ‘No! Natalia, no!’

  The whip flicked down in the air again, so close to me that my hair lifted from my forehead in its breeze. I couldn’t believe it. Natalia was speaking in a low, warm voice, not a high, frightened one. She meant what she was saying!

  ‘What a mere novice like you wishes is of no consequence but yes, you will go now into the chapel and prostrate yourself. And your friend’s punishment can be to watch.’

  Natalia nodded and stood up. She was still very white. She avoided my eye, as if I was the one who had done wrong, and walked calmly through the door. The freckled nun took my arm and led me into a long thin chapel. My eyes started streaming with the heavy scent of incense pouring out of a large silver basket swinging back and forth on a silver chain. There was a Gothic vaulted ceiling, plaster walls painted with faint, peeling frescoes
, and a meshed grille running down the whole of one side. On the other side were pews, and in these pews were several more nuns and, I noticed with surprise, a priest standing behind the altar at the far end. They must have been waiting for hours. In their utter stillness they all looked like figurines.

  ‘Prostrate yourself, Sister.’

  Natalia lay down in front of the altar and spread her arms and legs in a star shape. My heart started pounding with fear. The singing was still radiating from behind the grille, but it was no longer angelic. It had descended to a low, grim humming sound. Sweat started trickling down my back, gathering in my armpits, prickling in my hair.

  The freckled nun planted her feet on either side of Natalia and folded her cape and skirt right up over her bottom so that I could see those awful bloomers again. Then freckle-face wrenched those down in one swift movement, right down to Natalia’s knees, so that there was nothing covering her but the black stockings.

  I glanced round. ‘Someone stop this! It’s torture!’ I said, but it came out as a kind of dry squeak. The humming got louder, and no one was listening to me. They had all turned to look at Natalia, lying on the floor, her round white bottom and lovely thighs glowing in the dead, dim light of the chapel.

  Mother Marta stepped forward, raised her arm, and with a swish like a wasp’s wing brought the whip down on Natalia’s buttocks. The sound was extraordinary. The sharp stroke on Natalia’s soft flesh rang out like a cruel gunshot. The tender flesh rippled under the blow. I gasped in horror, and lunged forward, but someone else pinned my arms behind me to stop me moving. Natalia jerked involuntarily off the floor, showing a quick flash of her unwaxed pussy between her open thighs, and I saw her fingers clawing at the polished wooden floor. But she made no sound.

  ‘Don’t you move, Sister, or you get double.’

  But even as she spoke so harshly, Mother Marta leaned down and stroked Natalia’s butt cheek, where a livid red stripe had come up. And yet Natalia lay there as if she was asleep. A new respect for her bubbled up inside me, alongside the revulsion and hatred for the nun meting out such a caning to my powerless girl. We all watched as the nun stroked the other cheek, almost as if she was preparing it like prime steak. Then she quickly stepped back and swiped the whip down a second time, squarely on the second cheek.

 

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