God's Loving Embrace

Part Thirty-One

'Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour.'

Ecclesiastes 4:9

Caris simply ached to touch Sammie. The time they spent together in the training centre was blissful, despite close supervision, but with the others always there they could not really talk to each other, let alone touch, and they were always fully clothed, of course. Caris loved the showers at either end of her days just to see Angelica, and to be seen by her, but it was also sheer torture too. Pleasure and pain, in equal measure. Of course she knew that they would never have the intimacy of St. Theresa's again, and she did not want it, because it was not worth the risk of losing what they had, but she often felt the switch simply because she could not take her eyes off Sammie for a second more. Their routine was always the same of course. Even when their first students arrived it would not change too much, and the three girls were grateful to Caris for bringing them together. Even Carina, who still burned with bitterness at her own fate.

Caris tried to get some information for her. Angelica had been signed on for ten years, and her sister was on her National Service, so that was three years. But the judge had told Carina that she was in protective custody for a minimum of five years, and she wanted to know what that meant. But no one seemed to know. Caris had access to the office, and could speak to the nun who had computer access, through a purely internal system, to the main personnel database. That was how Caris had got the three girls to Ribble Valley in the first place. Caris found out that each Sister had an earliest possible release date entered on their file. In her case, it said not applicable. Angelica and Hope both had the correct years, but Carina's was just blank, and no one could tell them why.

'Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is far above rubies.'

Proverbs 31:10

Harry kissed Brogan hard, almost aggressively exploring her muzzle with his tongue. She knew that her helplessness sometimes aroused him and she had also noticed that it often happened when he was stressed out or tired, as if his absolute control over her acted as some sort of restorative. She always suffered it, trying not to respond, because it was her only possible act of resistance. But he touched her in all the right places, and pinned her down with his bodyweight, before taking her in an almost violent frenzy and the orgasm forced her to surrender, a shudder of pleasure coursing through her body as she surrendered to him.

He laughed at the expression on her face as he rolled off her, and caught her arm as she tried to slap him with her mitten, lost in his own climax, and his own thoughts. He had been uncommunicative for eight nights, seven of which she had spent in her sleeping gown, and although being free of that curse was a sign of progress, his cruel attitude towards her was still a negative. She just did not understand him sometimes. She had given him everything he wanted, and yet he still denied her one of the few things she cherished between them, just because he could, like some kind of power trip. And she just could not resist him, and he found that endlessly amusing of course, much to her annoyance. It proved her weakness. He had tamed her, or Miss Howard had, and she wondered if their pillow talk was just him humouring her, just another game.

"Calm yourself, Brogan...I am too tired to talk tonight...and your pouting won't change my mind." He murmured, pulling the sheet over both of them, but leaving the light on. "Good grief, I can't always find the energy to talk to you, just because you enjoy it...sometimes I don't think you have learned anything at all...you have no stress, no pressure, all you have to do is pray and please yourself. I am too soft on you...on all of you..."

'She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy.'

Megan Brown nodded her mute thanks to the Sister after her feeding tube was attached and turned her attention to the newspaper. She had spent a busy morning hosting a coffee event for one of her husband's new initiatives. He was charged with bringing all the new Reformist Church of England congregations in Sevenoaks closer together by his bishop and Megan had met with several of the vicar's wives, a little social courtesy Nigel wanted to extend to ensure things started on friendly terms. So Megan had earned a few moments with the paper, a treat her husband knew she enjoyed, even if she had been muzzled as soon as her guests left. The nuns from the Chapter House had their instructions, and Megan never ever argued with her husband or questioned his instructions. He was good to her but he expected her obedience and she liked to earn her little treats.