Convent Education

Chapter 1

Plans go Awry

I shuddered looking round the dimly lit room. Crucifixes, candles and Holy Pictures everywhere. The last 8 hours or so had been a blur. I could still feel the effects of whatever it was Auntie had put in my tea that morning. I was disorientated remembering only vaguely the journey from London. My mouth was dry and I was still having trouble concentrating.

A black robed figure, austere bare face framed by gleaming white dimple, watched me from behind a large oak desk. Her face was like withered parchment; her eyes were cold and grey, like chips of granite. She looked ancient, certainly to this thirteen-year-old girl perched nervously on a hard wooden chair trying to get a grip on reality.

"So " She said " tell me something of our little one here and why this emergency?" - She inclined her head towards me.

My Aunt sitting next to me sighed...

" Mother Superior it is a sad thing I must relate concerning this wretched girl". She took a deep breath; I shivered knowing nothing nice about me was going to escape her cruel thin lips. She continued...

" This one here " she turned and looked at me her face registering disgust " has the mark of Satan Himself on her. She is guilty of moral turpitude"

With that, to me incomprehensible remark, she sat back, eyes glittering as she looked at me with contempt.

I blinked and my heart sank. It sure sounded bad, though I had no idea what "turpitude" meant.

The Nun sitting behind the desk leaned forward.

" Exactly how immoral has she been then my dear Bridie, as you know, this convent school for the daughters of the best catholic families in all of Ireland, has it's reputation to consider. The girls here are chaste and unworldly and it only takes one bad apple to corrupt the barrel".

My Aunt clutched the purse she held on her lap more tightly.

"Sure " she said, her accent had become more pronounced as soon as we had landed at Dublin. "That is of course the reason we are here- if anyone can save this girl from hell's damnation then surely it's the Nun's of the Sacred Heart." She blessed herself as she finished.

" Hmmm " The Mother Superior leaned forward a little " well as you know Bridie it is only the fact that your dear father, may God protect him, is a Knight Of St Columbus and one of the church's most respected Professors of Theology that I agreed to see you. It is part way through term and the school is full."

She paused and her gimlet eyes bore into mine briefly before switching back to my Aunt.

"Pray continue and give me more details of Phillipa here, her background and her fall from grace. She looks too young to have sinned so grievously as not to be capable of redemption".

I closed my eyes, trying to check the flood of tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. The stark surroundings, the almost medieval language and manners filling me with dread. As my Aunt started to tell the attentive Nun about me I shut out her droning sycophantic voice.

I knew I had been naughty but it was my dad who had tried to rape me! My aunt was placing all the blame on me and I shuddered recalling the last three days. The weekend that had started so full of promise ending in despair, here this Sunday evening in a convent school miles from civilisation in the depths of the Irish countryside. A soft groan escaped my lips as I recalled the events that had brought me here.

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I hadn't seen my real father for ages. Well, I saw him briefly at Mum's funeral, following her car crash some eight months previously but he hardly spoke and I was too distraught to take much notice of him. He worked abroad and was rarely in England. I had spent some holidays with him after he and Mum divorced but it got less and less each year. After the funeral he had agreed to let me stay on at boarding school and in the care of my friend's family. He seemed happy to not have to deal with me and returned abroad almost immediately.

The previous Friday I had journeyed up to London to stay with him for the weekend. He had said he wanted to discuss my future and I was excited at the thought of seeing him again. The last eight months had been a bad time and only my friends and especially Christine, my best friend Claire's mum had made it bearable. I was an only child and Mum was an orphan so I had no other close relatives. My father was from Ireland so all his family was there. I never saw them after he and Mum split some 6 years previously.

He had met me at the railway station in London. I think he was astonished at how I had grown. He kept looking at me and shaking his head. "I hardly recognised you" was his first comment.

I thought at first it was because he disapproved of me. I had taken care to dress nicely. It was important to make a good impression, as he was all the family I really had now. I had selected a crisp white blouse and a not too short plaid skirt with "sensible" kitten-heel black shoes and white knee stockings.

He hugged me, teasingly remarking that I was a young woman now and not the little girl he remembered. I had grown 3 inches since last year and more than that round my boobs and hips. I guessed he hadn't realised that girls do grow up (and out) quickly after they reach puberty. I really liked him - he was funny and witty and quite good looking. I thought he looked a lot like George Clooney whom I really had a pash for. I was excited at the chance to get to know him better. We went for a meal and He let me text a pic of him to Claire and I grinned and showed him her reply.

"Mmmmm he is FIT". She had texted back

So then I had to explain what fit meant and he almost blushed. Anyway he told me he had been promoted, would not be travelling so much and had taken a flat in town- Canary Wharf - which is mega loot! He hadn't remarried. He asked about school and Christine, was I happy still there, did I have boyfriend yet, all catching up stuff. I had been boarding weekly at school in Sussex and staying with Claire at weekends since Mum died. I explained that I wanted to carry on like that. I loved being with them, they had lots of room and Christine was like a Mum to me.

We eventually went back to his apartment, which overlooked the Thames. I showered and changed into a crop top, a short pleated skirt and sneakers. The evening passed quickly. We talked and talked and talked. I noticed that he drank a lot. I confess I did flirt a bit. I had been slowly discovering and exploring my ability to sexually excite guys. It was a heady feeling, knowing they liked looking at my body, seeing how I could affect them. It was easy with boys but it was intoxicating knowing mature men found me sexually attractive.

I made sure as artfully as I could that he could admire my budding boobs, which nestled snugly in my new under wired "A" cup lace bra. As we both relaxed after our initial awkwardness I sprawled out on a large arm chair in the lounge; my skirt carelessly hiked up my bare legs, knowing my pale blue lace panties looked sexy. He let me have a glass off wine while he drank his whiskey. It was so refreshing to be treated like an young adult.

I saw him glancing frequently at my breasts and bare legs and thighs. I felt excited and slightly wicked. I tried, without being obvious, to see if he had an erection. Eventually he sighed and, looking at the clock said it was my bedtime. I went to hug him goodnight, slid onto his lap and cuddled him. I was sure I could feel him hard under my bottom as I wriggled around.

Looking back, I realised how naughty I had been but I enjoyed the excitement of arousing him without feeling in any danger. I wasn't used to being this intimately close to an older man. I still had difficulty relating to him as my Dad. I really enjoyed the slight sexual tension I could feel. I kissed him goodnight went to bed happy and confident that everything was going to be ok.

Then the fly in the ointment - his SISTER the dreaded Irish witch. She arrived the next day, Saturday while I was out sightseeing round London. I had got back quite tired. I said hello to my Aunt Bridie, who I had only met once or twice before. She lived in Dublin with her father and younger brother. She was very abrupt with me and looked at me disdainfully, obviously not approving of my brief denim shorts and 'FCUK' shirt. The atmosphere later at dinner that evening was a bit strained and I quickly made my excuses and went to my room. I dozed for a while still feeling happy that we had sorted out my immediate future. Later as I went to the loo I heard raised voices from his study. He and Aunt Bridie were arguing and I had heard my name. I crept closer and eavesdropped.

"The girl is but a child Gerald " my aunt's voice made me shiver " but she dresses and acts like a harlot. She probably has not seen the inside of a Church for ages and she belongs with a true catholic family, not heathen strangers"

My father muttered something I couldn't quite catch. Aunt Bridie was hitting her stride now....

" I am her godmother in case you forget dear brother and I am responsible for her moral and religious upbringing. Do you want her to end up like her slut of a mother you married?" Her voice finished on a triumphal note. " She belongs back In Ireland where her family comes from and at a good Catholic girl's school before she loses her immortal soul"

I seethed with anger at the reference to my Mum. Tears filling my eyes I blundered back to my room. I picked up my mobile, keyed in Claire's number code with shaking fingers. I told her what I had overheard and how our plans for me to stay with her were being thwarted. The thought of being torn away from the school and friends I loved reduced me to tears of despair.

Claire was as always calm and positive. Though only four months older than me, she was much more experienced. She even had a regular boy friend. I know she hadn't done "it" either yet but she had wanked him off I knew.

"Ok" said Claire after I told her what I had overheard " you need to do three things-

First- persuade you Dad that you are happy with us and still need the comfort of familiar surroundings while you grieve for your mother. Do the little waif thing. Get him to come down here and meet Mum, she will help to convince him you will be happy and safe with us.

Second- that having "found " Him again you doesn't want to lose him, waggle your tits and arse at him a bit- tell Him you long for chance to get to know him better. All men like young girls. Persuade him, subtly, that during the next few years you need an older man, who loves you, one you can trust, to be your mentor and guide. One who is not far away whom you can visit and get to know better without intruding on his private life. If you go to Ireland you would rarely see him!

Finally -" here she paused and giggled "Tell him you have started going to Church again and are forming a good relationship with the local Parish Priest here. I know it's not true but just invent a bit. OK?"

I put down the phone shaking a little, my mind whirling trying to plan what to do. I didn't have much time. Aunt Bridie was going back to Ireland soon. I remembered the way he had looked at me as I had chatted to him so unselfconsciously the previous evening. Perhaps I thought if I flirt with him a bit more obviously he wouldn't send me away.

Looking back now I know it was stupid and that I was getting out of my depth but I was desperate.

I heard them both go to bed. Auntie didn't say goodnight. I lay on my bed, with my side light still on. He knocked on my door and wished me goodnight. I waited about 30 minutes then slipped out of bed. I was wearing just my knickers, so I slipped a thin white t-shirt over my head, brushed my long brown hair and fastened it in a pony. I stood in front of a long mirror and looked at myself.

A serious faced girl gazed back; heart shaped face, brown eyes bright, standing some 5ft in bared feet, slim figure only partly concealed. The shirt curved gracefully over the soft swell of her firm breasts, the nipples just hinted at under the thin material. Pale blue panties just visible at the juncture of her thighs. She sucked in her tummy and turned sideways a little. Her gently swelling hips swept down over her pert bum to long slender bare legs.

I thought of adding some lippie, blusher and eye shadow as the girl in my mirror looked so pale, perhaps not I decided, I want to look as if I have just woken up feeling lonely and upset.

I took a deep breath, left my room and quietly padded down the passageway to his bedroom. I felt nervous but excited. There was a faint sliver of light from under his door so I guessed he was still awake. I rubbed at my eyes to make them look sore as if I had been crying. Taking a deep breath I knocked lightly on the door " Dad " I whispered " Are you awake?

"Phillipa?" I could barely hear him so I opened the door a little. "Dad " I said "Can I come in and talk for a while please, I am feeling really lonely and upset".

His voice was a little unsteady " just a minute honey ". I heard some movements and then he said " OK Phillipa come in darling. What on earth is the matter"?

I entered quickly and shut the door behind me, padding over to his bed where he lay half-propped up an anxious look on his face. I noticed he was bare-chested and the bedclothes covering his lower half were crumpled. He patted the side of the bed and I sat down half-turned towards him.

" For goodness sake Phillipa you should be asleep". His voice was thick, words a little slurred.

At this I burst into tears and wrapped my arms round his neck, He slowly stroked my hair and the back of my neck making little shushing noises. I sobbed against his throat, feeling his warm bare chest against my upper body. He held me close and through my sobs I told him. Told him how I wanted to stay here in England, wanted to get to know him now that I had found him again. I felt his arms tighten around me, pressing me closer against him. His hands stroking my back as he tried to console me.

"Ahh " he mumbled " you have been listening to what you aren't supposed to". I squirmed against him, my face wet with tears. I felt safe and loved in his strong arms. He pulled back a little, still holding me, as he spoke I could smell whiskey on his breath. " Well nothing is decided yet angel " he whispered huskily " your aunt and I only want what's best for you." I shuddered as my sobbing slowed. His hands were stroking my back more urgently now. I kissed his cheek; it was a bit stubbly and scratchy. I saw him gazing at my breasts and I realised the bedside light next to me made my top almost transparent.

His voice huskier now as he asked shakily " Are you cold sweetie". I swallowed and nodded. "Please cuddle me " I said. He pulled the sheet I was sitting on from under me, unwrapping my arms from around his neck; I slid in next to him. He pulled the sheets over us as I lay on my back next to him, his arm under my shoulders. He leaned over me to turn off the bedside light. I felt his warm body close to me as he murmured "OK a quick cuddle to calm and warm you and then back to bed and we will discuss this in the morning". He kissed my cheek as he moved back keeping his arm under my shoulders "I certainly don't want to lose touch again with my lovely daughter."

I felt strange being semi naked in bed with a man for the first time even though it was my Dad. I could feel the heat from his body. I lay there holding my breath, my nipples hard and a warm feeling in my lower belly. He whispered to me quietly in the dark, his warm breath brushing my cheek. I felt his arm tighten around my shoulders then move lower under my armpit. His hand brushed against the side of my breast. I could hear him breathing more rapidly as he moved his hand against the side of my tit. His thumb stroking it.

I knew about sex of course, Claire and I had often talked about it, we had even practiced doing blow jobs on bananas as Claire said guys liked that and it was safer than going all the way. I felt a warm excited glow as I lay next to him. Instinctively I knew he was going to make love to me. It wasn't how I had imagined my first time would be but I wasn't too scared. I hoped it wouldn't hurt too much.

He half turned towards me. Swallowing I pressed closer against him, I was sure if I let him do it he would not send me away. His hand opened and cupped my breast. I squirmed and sighed softly. It felt nice and my hard nipple tingled. I could feel his prick pressing against my hip in the darkness under the sheets. I realised he was naked. My breathing quickened and I dropped my hand down low and touched his cock as if by accident. It was the first time I had touched one.

He gasped softly " Yesssssssss" and lay still his hand fondling my breast. Emboldened and holding my breath I stroked his penis up and down. My fingers gentle as I explored it. The head was silky smooth and slightly oily under my fingers. His penis felt so big and hard, as if there were a bone in it. I felt the warm flush between my thighs spreading and I pressed them together. His hand on my breast gripped tighter, fingers digging in, pinching my nipples through my thin top. I squirmed "that hurts" I whimpered softly"

"Shhhhhhh" He growled, his voice thick and a bit harsher " Your Aunt is next door, be quiet " He squeezed my breast hard grunting and panting. My nipples were hurting now from the pinching. I let go of his penis feeling suddenly afraid as I felt a stab of pain shooting through me.

He abruptly turned me on my side facing away from him; his arms round me pulling me back against him. I felt his hardness digging into my back. His hands slipped under my thin shirt and he pulled it up roughly, baring my breasts. He was panting harder and his whiskey breath was hot on the back of my neck. One arm pinned my chest crushing me back against him, the fingers of his other hand pinching and pulling my nipple viciously. I squirmed and tried to move away. I was feeling frightened now, he was so rough. I didn't want it to be like this. I thought it would be gentle and loving with lots of kissing and fondling. He grunted in my ear, his voice thick with lust.

"Stay still and be quiet you little prick teaser, I am going to fuck the arse off you" With that his hand went to the waist of my panties. He half lifted me and he pulled them down roughly over my hips to mid-thigh. I pulled at his hands now fighting to get him to stop.

I gasped with shock, squirming and bucking. I was frightened of him now. I realised he was drunker than I thought initially. I opened my mouth to scream and his left hand moved from molesting my tits to clamp my mouth and nose. His arm still crushing me against him. He groped at my sex with his right hand, fingers stabbing against my closed thighs as he tried to force them apart, his nails scratching the tender skin.

I was crying with terror his hand over my mouth crushing my lips against my teeth. I couldn't breathe properly. I felt his finger grind against my cunny lips, trying to push it inside me. He was thrusting his hard thick prick just under my bare buttocks, trying to force it between my thighs, which I had clamped tight together. I was terrified. This wasn't sexy; it wasn't what I wanted. I couldn't understand why he was forcing me when I would have let him take me if he had been gentle.

Suddenly the door burst open and the lights flicked on. He pushed me from him roughly so I fell to floor with a thump. I was almost naked, shirt pulled up to my neck, panties round my legs just above my knees. It was my aunt.

"Thank God Bridie " I heard him exclaim " get this little slut off me, she crept in my room while I was asleep and tried to get in my bed"

My Aunt swept down on me as I lay sprawled semi nude on the floor. She drew back her hand and slapped me hard across my face. It made my head spin with shock and hurt. My cheek was aflame and I shrieked. She grabbed my hair and dragged me out, down the passageway to my room and threw me on my bed.

"You little whore " she screamed at me, her face contorted, eyes blazing and spit flecking her lips. She slapped me again hard and my head jerked back from violence of the blow. I was stunned and sobbing violently, trying to protest that dad had tried to rape me. She pushed her face close to mine and hissed.

"It's a convent school in Ireland for you" with that she picked up my mobile from the bedside table and left, locking the door behind her.

I spent the night crying into my pillow. I felt guilty and ashamed at my behaviour but also angry at how my father had betrayed me. The next morning Aunt Bridie came to my bedroom, packed some of my clothes in a case and told me to get dressed. I was too embarrassed and upset to try and explain. She gave me a cup of tea, which tasted a bit odd. As I dressed I started to feel strange. Everything got a little hazy as if I was in a dream, not really knowing what was happening. I never saw Dad again, and we left for the journey to Ireland.

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