Catholic Punishment
Catholic Punishment
An Excerpt
Sister Charlotte sat quietly in the small room. The room was warm but the wooden slatted bench on which she sat was hard. She wore just her dressing gown otherwise she was naked. The thin material of her gown meant the wooden slats cut into her buttocks. She imagined this was all part of the ritual. Next to her Sister Karen was seated. She too was quiet and was also wearing just a gown. Both girls were waiting for morning prayers to finish. Outside, the door which led to the main hall where the whole assembly of novice nuns were gathered a piano struck up a familiar hymn, ‘Praise My Soul the King of Heaven’. The first few bars by the pianist was played alone, then, after a short break, it was repeated, this time the whole group of assembled nuns sang. Charlotte couldn’t recall how many verses the hymn had. She faintly hoped it had endless verses because that way her approaching torment would be delayed. She felt a familiar hand touch her own and looked to her right and saw that another novice at the convent, Sister Karen, was trying to comfort her; give her much needed support. Charlotte looked up into her friend’s open face and saw tear-stained eyes. It was comforting in a strange way to know that she too had been crying.
Sister Charlotte had known Sister Karen less than a year at the convent and she hated the strict regime. Her father was in the diplomatic service and he had postings abroad which often went into years. Until Charlotte was sixteen her parents took her with them but around a year back, they had sat her down and explained she was not coming with them in future and she had been secured a place at the Sacred Heart Convent. Sister Charlotte had shed many tears, begging her parents not to forsake her to an unknown and possibly bleak future. Her parents were both strict Catholics and especially her mother who was herself educated in a convent school and they had decided this would be best for her. They had concerns about leaving her in any mainland city where close relatives would have been happy to take Charlotte into their home during their parents’ absence. Instead, her parents saw too many teenage pregnancies and too many drugs being taken to risk that. It was decided. She would become a nun. Sister Charlotte’s mother knew about the strict discipline regime in operation at this training college for would be nuns. Things had hardly changed since her own time at the same establishment where the use of a cane was a natural part of ensuring girls were kept on the straight and narrow. Where girls were expected to keep their heads down and meet the testing standard. Sister Charlotte didn’t know it but her mother had signed a consent form allowing corporal punishment to be used at the discretion of the Mother Superior.
Even on her first day Charlotte was confronted by such punishment. She was hardly settled into her sparse single room when she heard a girl screaming. The girl’s cries were almost constant, but in equally measured periods of time she screamed louder. Charlotte felt a cold hand clutch at her stomach as she realised what was happening. A young novice, like herself, was being beaten and the strokes were purposely delayed to ensure the effects of each was felt to the full! Later, she heard a girl sobbing through the wall to what she felt must have been her room next door. This sobbing went on for a full hour before she went silent, presumably her suffering was now removed by a fitful sleep. The following day was her first full day at Sacred Heart. She wore her uniform which consisted of a simple nun’s habit, in a brown colour to separate her, like all the other novices, from the established nuns who wore black. It didn’t take long for the teasing to start. Sister Charlotte had red hair and with that hair came matching freckles. Her face, especially her cheeks, and nose area, was a mass. She had them on her chest too and shoulders. Mercifully, they seemed to miss her legs and bottom. Many other girls had similar red hair, but for some reason not the freckles. She was nicknamed the Freckled Freak. Then she met Sister Karen.
Charlotte was seated alone on the grass reading a book when Sister Karen came from nowhere and spoke to her. She had taken to isolating herself from the other girls to avoid the bullying she was almost constantly subjected to now.
‘Hi, you’re new, aren’t you?’ Sister Karen asked softly.
‘Yes, I’ve only been here a couple of weeks’, Sister Charlotte responded without really taking her attention from the book she was reading.
‘How are you finding it?’ Sister Karen probed. Charlotte placed a marker into the open book and carefully set it aside before replying.
‘I think you know, I’m having quite a hard time’
‘Not from me you aren’t’. Sister Karen decided to put the record straight immediately, then moved closer before sitting down on the grass beside her. ‘I’m Sister Karen by the way and I’m pleased to meet you’. Sister Karen held out her slender hand in welcome.
‘I’m Charlotte, I mean, Sister Charlotte and I’m pleased to meet you too’. She took Sister Karen’s hand and squeezed it gently rather than shaking it more formally.
‘What are you reading?’
‘It’s Little Women by Louisa M. Alcott, it is one of the set books we have to read for exams this year’. Charlotte lifted the book and showed Sister Karen the front cover as if she felt the need to prove what she had just said was true.
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‘Still doing that book then. I had to read it last year myself. I found it a bit slow and boring. I was hoping for something racy, maybe by D.H Lawrence; Lady Chatterley or maybe Women in Love’. Sister Karen giggled and turned to face Charlotte, parting her legs and hugging her knees as she spoke. Charlotte instinctively looked at the older girl facing her and found herself looking down between her bare thighs at her crotch which was barely covered by her austere grey knickers. Charlotte realised Sister Karen had noticed she was looking at her there and looked away, but noted that Sister Karen had made no effort to restrict the view.
‘I quite like this book I’m reading. I did read Lady Chatterley but my mother found out and she was very annoyed.’ Charlotte replied.
‘Bit of a prude, is she?’ Sister Karen asked.
‘A bit!’ Charlotte admitted.
‘So, what brings you to this place. I had little choice; my parents decided I needed firm discipline so they sent me here. Its fucking harsh here believe me!’ Sister Karen tentatively looked around, checking to see if someone might have overheard her critical comments. Charlotte then told her new found friend about her parents’ recent decision. She explained that her mother feared she would get into bad company if she was left on her own.
‘Not much chance of that here believe me. The only corruption you get in this place will come from the fucking nuns or Father Joseph. The last time a girl got out and met a bloke she was beaten almost senseless in front of everyone’
‘You are joking?’ Charlotte asked but suspected Sister Karen was telling the truth. Sister Karen responded by slowly shaking her head from side to side while maintaining strict eye contact.
‘I never joke about things like that. If you are very lucky you might get a stroke or two of the cane on your hands. If you are reasonably lucky you get it across your skirt or more often across your knickers. Mostly though, the nuns like to get your knickers down and give it to you bare! Extreme offences are punished in the main hall with you tied down to stop you struggling. I’ve seen two get it like that since I’ve been here’. Sister Karen had moved closer to Charlotte as she explained the punishment regime. Again, it was if she was frightened of being overheard.
‘What sort of things get you punished that way?’ Sister Charlotte was strangely excited while at the same time terrified. She needed to ask?
‘Well, I told you about the girl meeting the boy outside school. You get it for stealing too and absconding. Girl’s get a good whacking too for masturbating. Mind you that’s a joke, the nuns do it all the time, I’ve seen them!’ Sister Karen whispered the last part of this exclusive piece of information.
‘You are kidding?’ Charlotte’s eyes opened wide at this revelation. Surely her friend was making it up?
‘Keep it to yourself, our little secret OK. Maybe I’ll take you some time and you can see for yourself. It’s all true, take my word for it.’ With that, Sister Karen started to rise. Charlotte watched her closely and felt happy for the first time since her arrival. She now had a friend; someone she could talk to, confide in and hopefully trust.
‘Look I’ve got to go. It’s been great meeting you and maybe we can hang out together? I’m a bit like you Sister Charlotte. I’m not popular and I don’t know why. I think it’s because my parents aren’t well off. There are a lot of stuck-up, snotty girls here and they pick on anyone who they consider doesn’t fit in. I’ll look out for you OK?’
‘I’d really like that Sister Karen,’ Charlotte replied.
‘Call me Karen, I’ll call you Charlotte, like we would outside these walls, but, only when we’re alone. You get punished if you don’t address people with respect here too!’ Sister Karen then left, walking at first but then speeding into a steady run.
Available now on Amazon. https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B095X4B3D5
