YOUR DAISY

Chapter 15

Breathing has never hurt so bad.

The wounds on the skin of her back sting, and she felt like the devil was constantly grasping her shoulders, gripping them tightly and never letting go of her. Taylor lied on her side, her hands clutching her forearms firmly while silent sobs shook her whole body. Closing her eyes, she could still feel the hard material of the whip against her flesh, and hear the sound that the action produced along with her moans and painful sobs. She hadn't expected such a cruel punishment from the nuns; however, if it wasn't with physical pain, how could they punish their students then?

Taylor curled up, folding her knees and bringing them to her chest as she hugged herself. She was hungry, afflicted and in desperate need of affection. The blonde's pillow was stained with her tears, and when she tried to move onto her back to try and fall asleep, she realized the binding of her kirtle pushing against her bruises hurt too much. Taylor let out another loud and desperate cry, whimpering as she gave up and once again laid on her side. The night was still young, the students were probably still having dinner, but God, she just missed Karlie. Taylor hated herself for letting her see her at the lowest point of her life, and she hated herself even more when she considered that what the brunette had witnessed an hour ago had probably pained her emotionally. She didn't think about the possibility of her holding back from wanting to help her; she didn't see how Karlie had looked away from her when tears had started to spill from the blonde's eyes.

Lying had seemed the best option for her when sister Agnes had asked her the reason why she was in the storage room. She couldn't simply say that she was there because she had to see Karlie and kiss her and touch her. What would they have done if she had straight up told them the truth about her and the brunette? The punishment definitely wouldn't have been just ten strokes. Who knows what could happen to them if the nuns found out about their little affairs. Taylor knew from the very first day that with this, with having the privilege of satisfying her needs and desires by kissing and touching Karlie, there would be risks. Her being around Karlie was a risk itself, but them secretly meeting at the storage room, them grazing each other's fingers under the table, or stealing glances from across the room, made every single wound on her back worth it. Taylor's love for the brunette made her feel complete, it made her heart soar with something that she's never felt. It made her feel alive, something that religion and praying has never given her. In Karlie's presence, she constantly felt on a mountain's edge, an abyss under the tip of her toes waiting just for her. With each kiss, each touch or glance, she was freefalling, with nothing holding her back.

Thinking about the brunette distracted her from the pain on her back, as her sobs and cries gradually faded into simple whimpers and sniffles. Taylor clutched the ivory sheets beneath her fingers, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to focus on the memory of Karlie kissing her neck while touching her face. Eventually, a deep slumber engulfed her in its warm hands, and the next moment she opened her eyelids, shy rays of sun were filtering through the small square window across her. The blonde heard the faint sound of a bell ringing, and unwillingly got up, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands. The cuts on her back burned her skin, and she stifled a light whimper by biting her bottom lip.

Taylor ignored the pain for the entirety of the morning, heading towards the shared bathrooms to have her daily shower. Karlie luckily wasn't there, probably deciding to come later, after the first Latin lesson. The nuns ordered the few students to undress themselves, and Taylor did so slowly and shyly. She knew that her wounds would be bright red today, and the hot water the sisters would throw at her would probably make them burn. Nevertheless, she still took off her kirtle and stood naked among the other bare students, shuddering and whimpering quietly whenever a nun poured the wooden bucket of steaming water on her body. She rubbed a sponge against her skin, cleaning wherever she could reach. When the five minutes of shower were finished, she felt a few pair of eyes on her as she put on a perfumed and clean grey kirtle, ready for her day. The girls that had been looking at her were probably wondering why there were crimson red cuts on her back, but without uttering a word, as soon as she was dressed she exited the bathroom and went to her first class.