The Captive Flesh Read Free

cheeks flushed a deep pink. ‘I think Sister Anna knew how I felt because she didn’t just beat me. After she finished and I was sobbing with the pain of it, she … she rubbed the handle of the dog whip between my thighs. And then she thrust her hard cold fingers into my body. I couldn’t help myself. As she moved her fingers in and out, I writhed against her hand, my cheeks flaming, while my buttocks burned and throbbed still. She called me disgusting, in that soft harsh voice of hers. She said I felt soft and juicy like a rotten fruit and that I smelt like a whore. But I seemed to revel in her insults. The more she reviled me, the more I enjoyed it. My breath came fast. I felt such an explosion of pleasure that I almost fainted. When I’d finished, she made me suck her fingers clean.Then she pushed me off her lap without a word and went out, leaving me lying sobbing on the floor. Oh, Marietta. And now she is dead. I … I don’t know what I feel …’
    Tears glistened in Claudine’s light-brown eyes. Despite her earlier bravado her full lips trembled. Marietta took her in her arms and stroked her soft hair. A single tear rolled down Claudine’s cheek.
    â€˜Hush now. You have nothing to reproach yourself for. I wish we had spoken of this sooner. How many of the others did she mistreat? I thought it was only me. I dared not speak out, lest she find some new way to torment me.’
    â€˜Did she beat you?’
    â€˜No. She chose other ways to humiliate me. Come, you must be cold without your clothes. Let’s get into bed. I’ll tell you about it when we’re tucked up warm.’
    Claudine climbed into the bunk while Marietta threw off the last of her clothes and crept in beside her. They lay with their arms entwined. Claudine’s full breasts were warm and soft against Marietta’s own and she was shorter than her friend. The top of her head fitted comfortably under Marietta’s chin. Marietta breathed in Claudine’s sweet odour of clean hair and skin.
    â€˜This is nice,’ Claudine said, making a little sound of contentment and snuggling into her friend’s neck. ‘It reminds me of when we were children and I would creep into your bed when I had a bad dream.’
    Marietta smiled, feeling safe and secure also. Claudine’s young firm flesh against her own was pleasant – more than pleasant, if she was honest. She tried not to dwell on the feel of it, but it served to emphasise her own memories of Sister Anna’s thin spare body; her long humourless face; the faint dusty lavender smell ofher skin and the rasping sound of her cold chapped hands as she rubbed them together.
    â€˜What did she do to you?’ Claudine whispered, as if she’d read her mind. ‘Tell me. Let us exorcise all the bad memories, then the old harridan will have no more power over us.’
    Marietta’s mouth was dry. The shame rose hot within her. Surely she could not … But perhaps it was time to lay old ghosts to rest. She forced herself to speak.
    â€˜It began soon after we arrived at the convent. I thought she didn’t like me. She would find fault with everything I did. Always criticising, picking at me. She would wait until we were alone, then she would insist on asking me intimate questions. Like, had I washed all over that day? She would make me open my mouth so that she could see if my teeth were clean, and look in my ears, tugging at the lobes. Sometimes she would make me raise my skirts so that she could inspect my chemise for stains. Once she made me unbraid my hair, then she replaited it, pinning it so tightly to my head that my head ached. Gradually I realised that she was jealous of my youth.’
    â€˜Of your beauty, you mean. How could she not be jealous? She was so plain. Surely no one ever looked at her with desire. No need to be modest, Marietta. The poor repressed bitch must have wanted to eat you