Chapter 49

Carol took a small bag from her larger travel bag, and disappeared into the bathroom. I slipped out to one of the other rooms and did my nightly routine of washing up, brushing my teeth and having a pee while she occupied herself in our bathroom. Having three motel rooms was handy. I'd have to send Bob a nice thank you card.

Carol was still in the bathroom when I returned. I turned the bed down and the lights and climbed into bed. I didn't know what to expect. I could still hear water running, it sounded like she was having a shower and I thought I could hear her humming. I did a double take when I recognized the tune — 'My Girl!

I heard the water stop, then the sound of a hair dryer. She didn't have it when she went in there, so she must have got it while I was cleaning up next door. Soon that noise stopped too, then the door opened and a vision stepped into the room. I felt my mouth go dry and my heart pound at this magnificent apparition of beauty before me. Gone was the dowdy matron. A goddess posed before me in the dim light of the room.

I hadn't seen that body in twenty years, but I knew every square inch of it intimately. Carol had the light from the bathroom behind her. She wore a little nightie of some diaphanous material that the light shone through. Her figure was highlighted perfectly by the backlight. It looked exactly the same as the last time I'd seen it in June 1966, her hair the only thing different, an improvement, as if she ever needed one. She had let it grow, as I suspected. Earlier, it had been done up in a severe bun, and although the colours were there, her hair had otherwise been dull and lifeless to match her eyes. Now, that hair fell in soft shimmering waves around her angelic face, and her skin, which had also been lifeless seemed to glow like I remembered it from the prom all those years ago. She must have applied some subtle makeup to achieve such a dramatic effect. I had always loved Riekie's blonde tresses, now Carol wore her gorgeous hair in similar fashion, and I loved it. It suited her to a 'T'.

That nightie was not only translucent; it showed her curves to their best advantage. The hemline came to just below her pussy, and the neckline had a deep vee, showing tantalizing curves of shapely breasts. I stared in wonder. Twenty years evaporated before my eyes. She pirouetted, causing the hem to flair, revealing mouthwatering glimpses of firm cheeks and a brown—haired pussy I knew so well. Thirty six years old, and still the body of a seventeen year old! What a mouthwatering sight!

"You like?"

"I li-i-ike!"

"Without ruining the moment, I always wanted to wear something sexy with my hair down since Riekie told me she did it."

"I'm at a loss for words to properly appreciate what I see; you're such a vision of beauty. I absolutely adore your hair, and through some magic, you have actually managed to improve upon perfection. Don't you dare ever cut it short again!"

"Why thank you, Kind Sir! Do you really like it? For you, anything."

I wasn't going to press the point. "Come here, My Sweet, it's bedtime, get to bed you—our bed."

Seeing as we didn't have anyone else around, somebody had to work the old gag! I threw back the covers on her side and discovered she had already laid out a heavy towel. Paratus! (My old Regiment's moto — Be Prepared!) Carol giggled happily and crawled in beside me, snuggling into her favourite position as if she'd never left. My arm around her warm shoulders, I snuggled into her, and we just lived the moment. Soon, though, she turned her lips to me for a kiss. I kissed her sweetly, and when I released her, I saw tears in her eyes.

I kissed her eyes gently and asked. "Why the tears, Prescious One?"

"Oh, David, I'm scared, and I hurt still. The memories are too strong."

And then I felt her body shaking with fear and her tears wouldn't dry. Soon her body was convulsed by huge sobs. I should have known! Reaction to the day's events had left her emotionally vulnerable, and now when the time came, she was petrified.

I cuddled her as she sobbed and caressed her hair, soothing and trying to ease her suffering. This was the first time in twenty years she'd been able to cry it out in my arms, and she definitely needed the catharsis of release. These weren't the tears of grief and pain she'd shed so much of. This was the much needed release and relief of twenty years of emotional stress.

"Wanna talk about it? I know Diane's healing didn't start until she could face the memories and talk about them. Sometimes just telling what happened is all it takes to get them out where you can examine and dissect them."

"I don't know where to start."

'The beginning is always a good place."

I got a poke in the ribs for my trouble.

"Fiend! I'm not sure where the beginning is. Sometimes I think it was when you got on the bus, but I guess the beginning of the real hurt was the day he hurt me.'

"Ok, let's start there, then. We can always go backward as needed. Someday we're going to have to discuss what happened before that, from my leaving to my return, but I think that has to wait until we get Riekie in on it too. From what I heard today, she took it a lot harder than she let us know."

"You're probably right, but if it relates, I'll talk about the summer, too. After you and Bob left to go with your friends, I was the happiest I'd been since you first went away. I thought Bob might have been right when he told me I should just throw myself in your arms when you came in that day, but I was scared I'd already hurt you so much you'd push me away. Looking back, maybe I should have.

"Anyway, that man was drinking all day. You know how he got when he drank too much. He was abusive and obnoxious. The little guys were scared of him. I got a little nervous that day, but knew you and Bob wouldn't be late, and I was so happy I was going to be with you again, I let my guard down. Bob had warned me he was looking at me and had been touching me in an un-fatherly way when I didn't notice, but I got careless and when he asked me to bring him a drink, I did even though I told him he should ease off a little. When I took him the drink, he tripped me, and when I fell into him he put his hands on my legs and somehow pulled me closer to him.

"At first, I thought I'd been clumsy and tripped myself, but as his hands slid up my legs, I realized he had done it on purpose. He had his hands all the way under my skirt and then they were on my bum, holding me into him. I could smell the booze on his breath, and it was making me sick.

"I tried to get away, but he held me tight and then..."

Her body shook with more sobs as she remembered that terrible night. I held her close and whispered sweet nothings and reassurances until she calmed and was able to continue. I let her work it out at her own speed, she'd never told this to anyone, not even Ben.

"He had his hands on my bum, holding me close to him, then he started moving them around, sort of like you do, but rough and mean, and he kept saying, 'Give us a kiss Baby, Daddy wants a little kiss from his little girl.' You used to call me Baby sometimes. I hope you don't anymore. It's sweet coming from you, but now it just reminds me of him. Then he moved his hands some more, and he had his fingers between my legs, feeling me up. I tried to keep them closed, and tried to pull away, but I was off balance and with his one hand still holding me tight by the bum, I couldn't move. I started to scream and twist away, but he just held tighter..."

She was wracked by more sobs as she relived that humiliation at the hands of her own father. Again, I tried to soothe her pain, but I was getting angry again and she sensed it, making her sob worse. At length, she calmed herself some.

"I-I sh-should stop. Y-you're getting angry, and I sh-shouldn't put you through this.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head about me. I'll get over it. I've already dealt with him, and if I need to, I can find him and pulverize his face. But you need to get this out so you can deal with it."

"OK. When I started to scream, he just laughed and said, 'Shut up, you know you want it too.' I thought about the boys, and knew I must be scaring them, so I quieted down some, but then he slid his hand right in between my legs and started poking and feeling Miss Pussy through my panties. I was wet, because I was waiting for you -- you know how wet I get around you. Thank the Goddess I was wearing panties or he probably would have raped me right then. He got his fingers inside my panties and started rubbing Miss Pussy really hard and rough. It hurt, and she didn't like it at all. She even started to go dry. But I was still wet enough, he got a finger inside her, and when he found there was no hymen, he went ballistic."

She paused again, but no sobs this time. She shuddered at the memory and continued her voice now flat and emotionless as if describing an event of little note or that happened to someone else.

"He threw me across his lap, yanked my skirt right up, and ripped my panties off completely. I felt his hardness pressing against me! He lied today when he said he was impotent because of the booze! He had a boner and he pressed it into me. It hurt a lot when the crotch pulled hard into Miss Pussy before it tore. And then he started to hit me. He called me a slut and a whore and a tramp and useless baggage and a whole lot of foul names I'd never heard before. He beat my bottom until I couldn't feel it any more, then he aimed right at Miss Pussy and beat her!"

Again she stopped, her body convulsing in remembered pain before she was able to go on.

"The pain of him beating Miss Pussy was unbearable deep, and like electricity too <Not unlike a man getting hit in the balls, I imagine.>. I could still feel his hardness against me, and then he stiffened and it started to go away. I think he came in his pants from beating me. Then he hit me harder and harder, and if she could, Miss Pussy would have screamed, she hurt so bad. I screamed and screamed for us both. Finally the pain got so bad I blacked out.

"When I came to, I was on the floor, my skirt still around my waist. I was so embarrassed! Miss Pussy was in agony, and I could hardly move. He was saying something to the little guys when I woke up. I didn't catch what it was, but I heard 'bad girl'. When he saw I was awake he grabbed me by the hair and twisted it, forcing his face into mine, the stink of booze making me want to puke. He said in a low very mean and ugly voice the boys couldn't hear, 'How does it feel to have been with a real man, not that pimply faced kid?' I just looked at him in shock, not quite comprehending what I heard. I didn't think I'd passed out that long. Then he said, still snarly, 'You're a real SLUT. You even fuck for your own father! With those beautiful legs, I thought you'd be good, but not only are you a slut, you're a lousy lay.' Then he pushed me away. I tried to stand up, but my legs were too weak. Miss Pussy was leaking and I thought it was his awful stuff. I stumbled to the stairs, but I hurt so badly I couldn't climb them so I crawled up. I was scared he was coming for me again, so I locked myself in my room.

"When I could, I checked Miss Pussy. There wasn't any man stuff, it was all hers. She was in so much pain, she was leaking to ease it. I'm sure she was weeping from the pain. There was some blood, too, and she was all swollen and bruised. I felt raw inside, and I was sure then that he had raped me. That's when you came home, and I was so ashamed! After you talked to me and I sent you away, I heard you talking to him downstairs, but I couldn't hear what was said. I wanted to go to the top of the stairs, and listen, but I couldn't move.

"He was gone the next day but came back the day he told us we were moving to Toronto. I just knew he was taking me away from you but I couldn't say anything without telling everyone what a slut I was and that I fucked for my father. That day, when he came to get me for his family meeting, I thought he was coming to rape me again, but he stayed outside the door and begged for my forgiveness saying it would never happen again, and stupid me, I forgave him, but not myself.

"I asked him if he used me, why didn't I have any of his stuff in me. He said I might be a slut, but he didn't want a pregnant one, so he used one of those awful rubbers. That convinced me he had raped me, because, and you'll remember this, I knew how much Miss Pussy hated them and to me, that was why she was so sore inside and why there was blood. Now, I know it was probably a scratch from his finger, because I got an infection and had to go to the doctor. Even the doctor told me I should clean my fingers before playing with myself because he said that was the most likely cause. I didn't believe it though; I thought he'd dropped the damn rubber putting it on and gotten it dirty."

She broke down again. She didn't have to tell me what happened after that, because I knew most of it. She cried and cried. I held her close until she started to relax. Finally, she turned to me, her eyes swollen and red again. I had hoped never to see her like that ever again, but it wasn't to be.

"David? Why did he do that to me? I'm not a bad girl. I didn't fuck for just anybody, just one, and we didn't 'fuck' we made wonderful love. I gave my virginity to the man I loved and married and never even looked at other guys. I still don't. Why did he do that? And even after he apologized and said it would never happen again, he still called me a slut, but he didn't want a pregnant slut. Why did my Daddy hurt me? Why didn't he tell me the truth? Why did he let me live a lie for so long? Why did he make me suffer so long? Why? Why? WHY? WHYYYYeee?"

She broke down into more sobbing. I just held her close and let her cry it out in release. I had no answers for her except the standard ones that he was a pervert and an asshole and all that.

"I don't know, Honey. I don't know. I think he gets his kicks from hurting people, sometimes physically, sometimes emotionally. All I know is now I have you back, and if anyone ever hurts or tries to hurt you ever again, I will personally kill them."

Carol crawled in really close, her arms holding me so tight I could hardly breathe. She placed her lips on mine and kissed me hard and demandingly. Her hips ground against me; I could feel her soft hair rubbing my leg as she humped against me, turning herself on. I broke the kiss, and looked at her closely. I wasn't sure she was ready for this yet.

"Carol Anne Lloyd, I love you. Are you sure you want to do this right now? We have all weekend; you don't need to rush into this."

"Yes, David, I want to do this now. I NEED to do this now. I want you to make love to me, not fuck me. I need you to make love to me slowly and tenderly like the first time. I need you to fill me with you and then fill me with YOUR Precious Stuff and wash away the pain I feel inside. Miss Pussy needs her Sweet Prince to fill her up with his Precious Stuff and clean away twenty years of her pain. We need you but we need it gently and with all the love you have. If you wait past now, trying to be nice to me, I'm scared I'll wake up tomorrow thinking you don't want me and then I'll start thinking I'm dirty again. So love me now and make me wake up in love again."

She reached her head to mine and kissed me so tenderly, my heart, hardened by the brutality of her story melted cleanly away. I rolled her to her back and continued that sweet kiss, sucking the sadness from her soul. My hand went to her face and caressed gently, moving down to her neck, shoulder and breast. I squeezed that succulent orb, unbelieving how firm it remained after all these years. Her breasts were as I remembered them -- high firm proud, full, somewhat conical. Through the thin material of her gown I felt the whole mass quicken and harden and the nubbin of her nipple stiffen against my palm. I caressed and massaged both breasts through the material of her gown, as I kissed her. Carol moaned into my mouth at the contact and she arched upward, forcing me into firmer contact with her wonderful boobies.

I moved my hand lower, to the hem of her nightie. My fingers trailed lightly on the hot flesh of her thigh, sliding upward, brushing lightly across her soft brown curls. She raised her hips in invitation, but I kept my hand moving upward, tracing patterns across the hot, firm flesh of her tummy, carrying the hem of her nightie higher. My hand reached the bare flesh of those delectable breasts. I cupped and squeezed and felt the nipple quicken and harden under my palm. I tweaked and played with those hard, hot nubbins, causing her to gasp and arch into my hand, seeking more contact. I broke the kiss and spoke.

"Let's get this damn thing off."

Carol giggled. Oh! How I loved the sound of that delighted and delightful giggle, lost for so long in the depths of her tortured soul.

A hint of playfulness where a few minutes ago was desperation appeared in her voice. "I don't know why ANYONE would wear something to bed with you! It's off in the first few minutes anyway! If a body's gonna be undressed sensuously, it should be part of getting into bed, not after. Taking it off then could break the mood, and it's harder lying down."

I responded in kind, delighted at the turn she was taking. "Oh stop complaining, Woman! It was your idea."

She pouted playfully and helped me remove her nightie and I gazed in wonder at that beautiful sight fully revealed. I tickled her lightly to keep the mood light. She giggled and squirmed. This was more like it!