God, Please Don't Hurt Me, Part 5

by Joanne

I had seen Julie's smooth and naked pussy. I couldn't see much as she fell into the low slung car, but I could see that she had no panties. I could see that she was smooth, and for the briefest of moments, I could see the bright pink of her pussy. I was glued to the window sill. The memory of that pussy playing and replaying in my mind. I hung on, as the thrills like fingers of energy ran through me. She blew me a kiss and turned me into a quivering jelly.

I had dashed to Sister Mary after school and impatiently waited for her attention. I blurted out, “I have seen Julie's pussy, no panties, what have you told her, she knows I want her, she blew me a kiss.” Sister Mary put her hands on my shoulders, “Slow down, calm down, tell me the story from the beginning.” We sat down and soon I began to calm down. I told her what had been happening with the flashes of panties and then the naked pussy. “I should tell you a little about Julie,” she said. “ you need to know.” Her eyes glazed over as she recalled the past.

Julie was three years old when their parents were killed. They were both then brought up by their aunt, a strict catholic. She took the loss of her parents very badly, they had both shared their parent's sexual bed. It is unlikely that she remembers much, if anything, about that. At sixteen she was, for all intents and purposes, a virgin. She met and fell in love with a nineteen year old soldier. She was totally besotted with him and wasn't a virgin for long. He was still nineteen and she was still sixteen when he was killed in action. Attention and all sympathy turned to his family and to his parents. Julie was sidelined and ignored.

Since that day, two years ago, she has used sex as a weapon and as a tool to get whatever she wants, when she wants it. She got good grades at school because she was fucking the head master. After the loss of her parents and all that trauma, the remaining love had been sucked out of her, when she lost of her boyfriend. She used her pussy as a tool, as a key. The key to success. I hadn't exactly been subtle, she had a predator's keen recognition of a victim. She knew, from when she first saw me, that I wanted her and has been teasing me ever since. She doesn't have a car herself, she couldn't afford one, yet. The girl that picks her up in the mornings must be higher up the slippery pole than she is, to afford a nice car like that. She must be gay, the naked pussy would be for her. Julie would have no qualms about letting the girl play with it on the way to work. She would use the girl to move up in the organisation. When she met someone further up than that, they would then, get the romantic attentions of a very young and very beautiful girl. Whatever their sexuality they was, Julie would seek it out and use it. They would get the full and enthusiastic use of her body. That is, until she met someone else further up still.

“Believe me,” Sister Mary said. She had tears in her eyes and her voice threatened to break, “I have tried everything I know to help her to come back to the church. I love her dearly and in some ways she has an innocence about her. She sees nothing wrong in using her body to get what she wants. Nothing I can say or do will dissuade her from the path she is on. I have to accept it and just love for who she is.”

“So I was just an amusement then,” I said. “I am afraid so, I'm sorry but you needed to know.” She hugged me, one of those sympathy hugs you get when you have lost something. The walk home seemed miles longer then the run there. I was very upset and angry. The only words that ran and re-ran through my mind were, “Bitch, bitch, fucking bitch.” The words kept pace with my march home. Every time my heel hit the pavement the word bitch went through my mind.

I stormed into the house and slammed the door. Christine was in the hall on her way to the kitchen. She stopped in her tracks as the door signaled my anger. I ran up the stairs crying. I was on my bed sobbing into my pillow when Christine came into the room and softly closed the door.

“What on earth is the matter?” she asked as she joined me on the bed. She gently turned me over and wiped away my tears. I blurted out the whole story from the naked pussy onwards. She kissed me on the lips with such tenderness that I put my hand around her head and pulled her close. I didn't need tenderness. I needed a good fuck. She tore at my clothes and did her best to fuck the anger out of me. She ravished me as I had once done to her. She pulled off my skirt and threw it away. She pulled my panties off and they followed the skirt. She spread my legs wide and dived into my pussy. She licked and sucked at my clit. She plunged her tongue into my cunt. I was lost, I panted and gasped and squirmed fully under her spell. She slapped me hard on the bottom and turned me over. She pulled on my hips drawing me up onto all fours. She licked me all around my anus as she pressed first two, then three and finally four fingers into my cunt and fucked the anger, and the living daylights, out of me. Now I was ready for tenderness. As I rolled over again to recover from my orgasm, still breathless and with my heart still pounding, she tenderly kissed me better.

I had cheered up a bit, thanks to Christine, but I was soon to be further depressed by the news that the meal would be late because our father was on his way home. Christine was excited at the news. I dreaded the prospect. We had our evening meal as a family. Father told our mother all about his sales trip and all his successes which was brain numbing. I ate my meal and asked to be excused and went to my room. I was left with the choice of playing patience alone in my room or sitting in the living room watching Christine being 'daddy's little girl'. The living room won by a short head, because in those days, there was only one TV in the whole house.

I was grateful when it was late enough to go to bed without upsetting anyone. I had been in bed for about an hour when the door opened and my dad walked in. “Your mother has been telling me about what you have been doing, while I was away.” he said, “It will be nice not to have to pretend around you.” I knew, that he knew about me and Christine all along, so what was all this bull. “Your mother and Christine are already in our room, you are always welcome to join us.” he said. Then the penny dropped, that was his plan. “No,” I said, “I am very tired, I need to sleep,” I didn't even want to think about it, never mind join in. The whole idea of sex with a man, any man made me feel sick to my stomach. I turned over and settled down. “Good night dad,” I said. I waited for the door to shut and breathed a sigh of relief.

That night I dreamed of Sister Mary. She wasn't a nun, she was an angel. An angel that floated down and ravished me. Ravished me in mid air, taking me up to God. I woke up in the morning, frightened. I swung my legs out of bed and knelt praying, “God,please don't hurt me.”

The only good thing about having a salesman for a father. It meant that a phone, as well as a car, came with the job. It was there so that my mother could take orders and my father could make appointments. At breakfast it rang, that persistent ring that can't be ignored. My mother went to answer it, armed with an order pad and a pen. “Yes,” she said, “of course she can, yes that will be ok. Yes, well she could do with it. Yes, I will tell her.” Then she hung up. The family could hear everything that was said. We were all waiting to know what it was about.

She came back into the kitchen, to where we were all waiting to know. “That was Sister Mary,” she said “She wants our Jenny to go and stay with her. She is taking a group for swimming lessons this afternoon and she wants Jenny to join the group. She suggests that she could stay over and she will bring her home after Sunday service tomorrow. She will be visiting her family next door then, anyway.” My father grunted his approval. My heart leaped.