Bryan and Cathy

Bryan and Cathy
Part 2
By underwhere

It was a few days before I heard from Cathy.  I'd wanted to hear from her sooner, but I also needed her to call me.  She had promised me that she would.  When she finally did call me, it was clear that things had not gone well.  My parents had answered the phone first.  I don't know how they do that, but they always seem to answer the phone at the same time.  It was really their house, though, so they knew the phone was usually for one of them anyway.

"BRYAN!  SOMEBODY IS ON THE PHONE FOR YOU!  IT SOUNDS LIKE SOMEBODY IN DISTRESS!" my father called out to me.

I rushed to the phone in my room, picked it up, and said, "Hello?"

I heard the short click of the phone being hung up by my parents.

"Bryan?" she sniffled.  She was barely audible.

"Cathy, is that you?"

There was a long pause.

"Bryan, I promised I would call you when I knew, but he didn't give me a chance.  This morning," and suddenly, she burst into tears.

"Cathy, what happened?"

It was a long time before she could regain her composure enough to tell me.

"This morning," she continued, "I was sound asleep.  I had gone to bed last night and made sure to keep myself completely under the sheets and comforter.  Our place can get very cold at night.  Our heat doesn't always work.  Daddy tells me that he doesn't have money to heat the house now that he is sending me to college.”

I didn't know they had to cut corners that badly.  I wanted to do something to help with that, but I knew that her mother and father were too proud to accept any help.  Anyway, she said she was warm enough.....

"This morning, I woke up without any covers, and I was startled to see Daddy lifting my legs up into the air.  The next thing I remembered was intense pain.  I think he used a wooden paddle on my bottom.  I don't know how many times he spanked me with it.  I begged him to stop.  I begged him to let me call you.  I begged, and he kept spanking me with that awful thing, and I thought I was going to die."

She burst into tears again.  My head was getting hotter and hotter by the minute.  I thought there had been an agreement in place between Cathy, her father, and me, that I was to be called any time she was to be punished.  I had been the one to insist upon that based on what Cathy had told me previously and based upon my conversation with her father. I had good reason to believe that was wise.  Now, my fears had been largely confirmed.  Her father did not simply intend to correct her wayward ways.  I was afraid that her father might put her in the grave as a result of them.

I’d thought Cathy was done telling me what happened, but she wasn’t.  When she regained her composure again, she continued, “and then, Mommy came in the room and watched him spank me with the paddle, and said that she knew exactly what I needed and asked Daddy to help her.  Daddy held my legs up, and spread them apart as far as he could, and then, Mommy ....”  Her voice trailed off into sobs, but I had to know what they had done to her.

“Cathy,” I said, “What did she do to you?”

“Mommy spanked my pussy hard with her hands.  I don’t remember how many times she spanked me there.  Then she took a slipper, and she beat my pussy with it, and it hurt so much.  I was in so much pain that I think I blacked out.”

I didn’t think I could get any more mad than I already was, but apparently, Cathy wasn’t finished telling me what they did to her.

“When I woke up, I noticed that my breasts were also in severe pain.  I don’t know if Mommy or Daddy hit me there, or what they hit me with, but....Bryan, just getting to the phone to call you....I almost blacked out again.”

I had heard enough.  "Cathy, I'm on my way."

I hung up the phone, grabbed a bag and stuffed in some soothing lotion (the real stuff, not the sports stuff I regularly used as my mom and dad actually had some around), a few wash cloths, and some bandages.  I was afraid I was going to need to use a lot of them.

My mom and dad saw me in quite a rush getting all of this stuff together.  They were not surprised when I asked if I could borrow the car.  My dad tossed me the keys which I grabbed in mid air.  My mom barked out, "Be safe, honey!"  At that moment in time, I was not sure I could keep that promise, so I figured it was simply better off to ignore that comment.

By car, a trip to Cathy's place was usually a half hour.  I'd been in that area many times before I even met Cathy, so at least I knew where I was going and where her place was.  I was lucky that there were no cops around.  I got there in under ten minutes.

I rang the door bell.  Nothing happened.  I couldn't even hear it ring.  I knocked on the door.  My heart was racing.  I knocked on the door louder.  I shouted, "Cathy, its Bryan!"  Only then did I hear some slow laborious movement inside.  Finally, the door was unlocked and opened, and standing before me was Cathy, wearing nothing but her panties with severe bruises all over her body.  I did not know for sure, but I suspected there were even bruises underneath her panties.  I entered her house, and she closed the door behind me.  Once she let me in the door, even my fears of that were soon confirmed.  She was not shy to show me anymore.  Without any words, she simply stepped out of her panties, and set them down on the floor in front of her.  She turned around 360 degrees as if to show me a new outfit.

I could not help but cringe at the very sight in front of me.  The more I saw, the angrier I got with her parents.  It was time I had a real serious discussion with her.  First, however, I needed to attend to her current difficulties.

I took out the washcloth from my bag and ran to the sink, turning on the cold water.  I was relieved to find that that still worked.  I let the water run for a minute before soaking the washcloth in it.  If I was going to clean her wounds, I needed to do it properly.  It was then that I berated myself.  I'd forgotten to bring some soap with me.  I also couldn't see any about.

"Cathy, where is the soap?"

She was not in a talking mood, but she pointed me in the direction of the bathroom where I found some hand soap.  I put some on the washcloth, and brought it back out to her and I began to properly clean her cuts and bruises.  She winced with each touch of the washcloth.  There was nothing I could really do about that.  All I could do was clean her up as quickly as possible.  I used a different washcloth to dry her off. This took some time as she was severely bruised on many parts of her body.  In fact, I wasn't sure that there was a part of her body which wasn't bruised.

I did not believe I was the type of person capable of murder, but I was convinced that if I ever saw her mother and father again, I might not be able to stop myself from killing them.  I hoped for both their sakes and mine that that would never come to pass.

I returned my attention to Cathy's body.  I had so far been trying to avoid her most sensitive areas, but even those needed tending to.  Her parents had managed to leave no stone unturned.  I didn't want to go there without her explicit permission first, though.

"Cathy, I have to clean these too," I said a little uncomfortably, pointing to her bottom, her breasts, and her pussy.  She did not object.  She nodded her head knowingly, probably because she was expecting there to be such a need.  I began with her breasts primarily because they were the easiest location of the three for me to get to.  I washed them first carefully with a washcloth with cold water.  I then washed them with a second washcloth with soap to clean them.  While I did get them well cleaned, they were still obviously severely bruised.  I then applied a healthy amount of soothing lotion to them.  I knew she would be resting later, so any potential undesirable affects of the lotion would be mitigated by her lying down.  Then, I applied some bandaids to the locations that looked like they would need them to heal properly.

"Don't try to remove these," I cautioned her.  "When you shower, they will come off much more easily on their own."

She appeared to be in a far off place, so I was not sure she had heard me.  "Did you hear me?  Let the shower remove these for you."  She looked at me and nodded.  It was the best I was going to get for the moment.

I progressed next to her bottom, a place I had seen before under different circumstances.  I was afraid to ask her this, but I knew it was necessary for me to properly heal her.

"Cathy, I need you to lie across my lap.  No, I'm not going to spank you.  At this point, it’s the most efficient way for me to clean you up and prevent infections."

She seemed to understand.  I carefully grabbed one of her arms, and very gently laid her across my lap.  Her bottom was very badly bruised.  I took the cold-water washcloth again and began to rub it gently across her bottom.  She winced at the very touch of it.  I wanted to hug her, but I knew there would be time for that later.  For now, I needed to heal her first.  I took the soapy washcloth and began the slow process of cleaning her up properly.  It was a bit more difficult with her bottom than with her breasts.  Nonetheless, I managed anyway.  I was able to clean up her bruises pretty well, and then apply the bandaids as necessary.  I needed a great many.

I could no longer delay what was absolutely necessary.

"Cathy, I promise I will not hurt you the way your parents did.  I promise you that NOBODY will ever hurt you the way your parents did again.  Still, you are badly bruised down there," I said, pointing to her pussy.  I was not certain that I was qualified or had the skills to properly heal that, but I knew I first needed to try.

"Cathy, let me help you to the sofa and lie you down on your back." Suddenly, I realized I needed to finish this up quickly.  She had lost a lot of blood and was probably feeling light-headed.  I also imagined she was needing some water.  I resolved to get her some as soon as possible.

I got her to the sofa, and as I did so, she collapsed onto it.  Making sure that she was still okay, I ran to the kitchen, grabbed a glass of cold water, and brought it to her lips.  I slowly poured the water into her mouth.  She seemed to gulp it down.  A faint smile came to her mouth.  I knew I had read her correctly.

Then I got down to work.  However, I was not at all certain I could properly clean and bandage her there.  I decided it was time to call in for some help.  I picked up the phone in her kitchen and dialed 911. After relaying the details of what I knew to be true and what I had surmised to be true and what I had so far done about it, an emergency team was dispatched to the house.  When they got to the door (there were two men), I let them in.  They were rather impressed with my skilled work so far.

"You've treated her other wounds very well, but if we were to even touch these wounds here," the taller man said, pointing to her pussy, "we'd probably do a lot more harm than good.  It is very uncomfortable to look at and very uncomfortable to heal, but it will probably heal better on its own than with any significant help."

"Isn't there anything you can do to hasten the healing process?" I asked.

"All I can recommend is that you ice it for short periods of time.  Not more than 2 minutes every hour, though.  Otherwise, you'd cause more harm than good.  We can take her to the hospital to the intensive care unit where they can look after her more properly.  She's going to need a lot of care regardless.  Those bandages will need to be changed regularly to allow her to heal, and she'll need some regular washing and cleaning to prevent infections."

That sounded logical to me.  I agreed to let them take her to the hospital.  Still, I needed to know which hospital she was going to as there were three in the area.  I needed to be there for Cathy.  She needed me now more than ever.  Neither men could tell me at that moment where she would wind up.  However, one of them did give me a phone number for where to call to find out.   They told me to call in a half hour.

Both men left the house for a minute to grab a stretcher from the ambulance, and then carefully placed Cathy on the stretcher, tied her down to it so she would not move during the transport, and brought her into the ambulance.  A few minutes later, sirens were blaring and the ambulance was on its way.  I watched it go down the street until I could neither hear nor see it anymore.

I decided to go back to my parents' place considering that I probably wouldn't be permitted to see Cathy in the hospital for at least several hours even once I knew where she was taken to.  Now that I knew she was being well cared for, my attentions turned toward what to do about this mess.  Clearly, to put her back in that house with her mother and father would be a bad idea.

I hadn't told Mom and Dad a lot about Cathy yet.  Sure, they knew I had a good relationship with her, but they didn't really know anything about her yet.  They'd never had the chance to meet her, and I was very much hoping that chance would come, but obviously, it was going to wait now until better circumstances.  I needed to consult with them, and I intended to tell them far more about Cathy than I thought she would be comfortable with my revealing.  It was essential that I do so to protect her safety.  I knew that ultimately she would forgive me for that breach of trust.