Brigit Pt. 05: Women's Refuge

We crossed the moat by the bridge and looked at the main fort doors. The rooms in which the door opening mechanism was sited had been open and vandalised. The machinery was incomplete and much more rusted. But the jacks moved the doors a little way after applying grease.

The motorcycle mechanics thought that both sets of doors could be made to open and close with modern hydraulics powered by small portable diesel engines but that would take several weeks to arrange.

I had to return to my car to get another can of WD40 before we could unlock the officers' quarters. Again we were pleased that most of the inside was in good condition except for some broken glass on the upper floor. Again the sash windows would require the sash cords to be renewed and the kitchen and bathrooms were dated. But both the officers' quarters' and the gatehouse could be made habitable within a few months at fairly minimal cost. Neither could be started until we had permission and the ability to shut the armoured doors to protect the materials for the renovation.

There were several heavy guns abandoned on the central parade ground. They had their carriages but were dismounted. They would need to be moved, and possibly restored to their position in the gun emplacements which were accessed by a paved ramp to the ramparts. Apart from that there were the remains of several scrap, burnt-out cars to be taken away. I thought I might, just, be able to drive my Diamond T wrecker inside the fort.

Over the next few weeks I became very annoyed with the Heritage body. Fort Inkerman had been built very quickly and although strong the workmanship was basic with no fancy detailing, yet they wanted it restored exactly as it was regardless of cost. I had to fight them for every detail. It took a month for them to agree I could move the abandoned guns from the parade ground to the ramparts. As soon as I had that agreement we planned the move. We greased and tested the metal carriages. Modern greases made them easier to move than they had been but once we had mounted the guns, using my Diamond T's crane, we had to move many tons of metal up the ramp to the ramparts.

There were two strong points at the top of the ramp to which blocks and tackle would have been attached. I had those strong points tested to 25 tons each before we attached pulleys and wire ropes leading back to the winches on the Diamond T. The carriage wheels squealed loudly as the guns moved slowly up the ramp. At the top I towed them to the gun positions using my four by four vehicle with only inches between it and the inner side of the rampart, before using a modern heavy mobile crane, hired for the day, to move them to the final positions.

I had to set up a non-profit trust, separate from the Women's refuge organisation, to take on a low cost lease of Fort Inkerman from the council. I was the Chairman. Deirdre was the treasurer, with initially no money. Other members were Anna, Darren, two each form the motorcycle club and the travellers' site, two from the women's refuge, one of whom was Bronwen ('Brigit' in my first encounter with the goddess Brigit) and our member of parliament. Although the lease rental from the council was very low, almost a peppercorn, we had to restore and maintain the building which was very expensive. Fundraising was an almost continuous activity. Most of the time I had to leave that to the others. The goddess Brigit sometimes came as an unofficial committee member, particularly when we were feeling very frustrated with the lack of progress. The coffee Brigit made for us made us feel much better.

There was more acrimonious correspondence before we could replace the mechanism to close the armoured doors. The heritage body was displeased that I had set the work in motion before their written agreement although their visiting inspector had given verbal agreement.

Once we could open and shut the doors we could bring materials on site knowing they could not be stolen. The lack of agreement about the doors had cost us many weeks and the women's current refuge had been attacked again and again.

One evening I was moaning at Deirdre. I had spent many hours on the phone for a simple matter. The women's refuge would need a post box and since they had had petrol poured through their current post slit many times they wanted it to be external and preferably free-standing. The Heritage body had rejected all my proposals. They were also blocking my application for change of use, frustrating me, the council officials and the councillors. The staff of the women's refuge were blaming me, unfairly, for lack of progress particularly as the attacks on their current premises had become more frequent. The final straw had been that some of the local drug dealers had unsuccessfully rammed the gatehouse doors with a stolen JCB, causing hundreds of pounds of damage. Although they had been seen on CCTV, they had fled before the police arrived. We thought that they had concealed some drug supplies in Fort Inkerman and wanted to retrieve them. We had suspected that when we first went there and had looked but the site was so large that the drugs could be anywhere.

I had an angry email from one of the women's refuge managers complaining about my lack of progress and the money they were having to spend repairing the current building from repeated attacks. Although I understood the anger, I was equally angry and felt she was being unfair attacking me when I was trying so hard. I moaned at Deirdre.

"Come on, Raymond," she said, holding out a hand to pull me from my chair. "You need to worship Brigit."

Upstairs in our bedroom Deirdre sat on the end of the bed and spread her legs wide giving me access under her skirt. I dropped to my knees and extended my tongue. Soon I was engrossed in arousing her to a squealing orgasm above me and all my anger had vanished, replaced by a sense of purpose to bring Deirdre to a peak of passion. As she slumped back on the bed I pulled my head out from under her skirt.

"You wanted me, Raymond?"

The goddess Brigit was standing behind me. She just appears unexpectedly but worshipping her with my head between Deirdre's legs tends to bring her. She had brought milky coffee for both of us. All three of us sat down on the bed. My erection was insistent. Seeing Brigit does that, as does a session of worshipping her between Deirdre's legs. Brigit knows that and was teasing me. She and Deirdre hugged me as I complained about the lack of progress, the frequent obstacles, and the blame that the women's refuge was directing at me.

"That's why I need you to push this through, Raymond." Brigit said. "You don't get discouraged. You get angry and work harder. I know you are feeling that the project is impossible. But for you? It would be. You know I don't show my gratitude as much as I should and I use you unmercifully but this time I think you need a reward for all you have done so far."

Our empty coffee cups disappeared and I found myself naked on the bed with two naked women pressed against me. My erection as buried deep inside the goddess Brigit and my mouth was covered by Deirdre's sex. The two of them rode me until I came into Brigit. Within minutes I was almost asleep with Deirdre hugging my back and my mouth stuffed by one of Brigit's breasts which was trickling milk down my throat. Later that night Deirdre was riding me while I licked at Brigit's sex. I woke in the morning to find my head cradled against Deirdre's breasts. I felt more alive and raring to go, to get the project moving again.

After breakfast I went to see the local heritage consultant and found him sympathetic and nearly as annoyed with his superiors as I was. We agreed that I should approach the local Member of Parliament for his help in moving the authorities. The MP had already been approached by the women's refuge and was sympathetic. It took another week before his intervention had an effect of removing some of the heritage objections.

In the meantime I had approached the local police and asked them to bring their drug-sniffing dogs to Fort Inkerman. They have six dogs that enjoyed rushing around inside the fort. All six found small drug traces and small bags of cannabis but one dog found that one of the cannon I had moved had six kilos of cocaine in the barrel. The police were delighted because they found fingerprints and DNA on the wrappings that enabled them to charge one of the people who had been seen running away after the failed attack with the stolen JCB. Further down the barrel was a bag containing eight thousand pounds in cash. After the drug's dealer's conviction and sentence the police handed the money over to me for the refuge project restoration.

Once the fort had been declared drug-free I moved the wrecked cars with my Diamond T wrecker. A local scrap dealer took them away and paid me enough to repair the damage done by the JCB.

Six months after the goddess has asked us to start on the project, and six months after Anna had started work at the nursery school, she and Darren were married. They had bought a much larger shop premises with a yard and out buildings and a four bedroom flat above it. Of course Deirdre and I attended. The goddess Brigit was Anna's matron of honour. It was the first time Darren had actually met Brigit although Anna had told him who Brigit was. Until the wedding he wasn't sure that Brigit was real. After the wedding and with Brigit's help during the honeymoon he worshipped Brigit nearly as much as I did. Anna still came to us each day to get Biddie up and to put her to bed. Biddie thought a married Anna was a much happier person than the abused Anna who had first come to us.

Finally we got planning permission, with the Heritage body's reluctant support, to convert Fort Inkerman into the woman's refuge. The Heritage body had wanted public access to the restored building but the MP persuaded them to withdraw that condition. With the planning permission we could start work properly and apply for funding grants. The builders and tradesman from the caravan site and the motorcycle club provided their labour and expertise free and many local businesses provided materials and other sponsorship. The post box was a former Royal Mail wall mounted box that was installed inside the gatehouse arch. Any flammable liquid would only affect the contents.

Apart from the main access through the armoured doors of the gatehouse and main fort wall there was a postern gate. That was accessed by a flimsy wooden walkway that ended about ten feet from a sliding armoured door in the fort's wall. Once the hydraulics for the sliding door had been replaced we had to create a sliding bridge that moved from within the fort walls' thickness to meet a platform at the end of the walkway. It could only be operated from inside the fort to provide an emergency exit if the main doors couldn't be opened. The only door into to the interior of the gatehouse was steel covered over armour and opened outwards. Once closed it was held by a heavy locking bar. Even if attacked with an angle grinder it would be impassable. The fort was secure against almost every conceivable attack by an abusive ex-husband or boyfriend.

Two years after Brigit had asked me to start the project the first residents from the refuge were able to move in. Six months later they had twice as many beds as their previous hostel and had sold their old building. Not only were they far safer, they could support more women, and their finances were in a far better state than they had ever been. Fort Inkerman could be gradually updated and improved to provide shelter for twice as many women as it now had. It might take years to do as funds became available but I had added in the planning application to allow up to ten mobile homes to be sited on the parade ground if required.

I was slightly annoyed that the women didn't acknowledge that the conversion had been only possible by the goodwill and hard work of many men. Apart from myself, who often had to work through Deirdre and Anna because the women wouldn't speak directly to me, there were the men from the motorcycle club and the travellers' site who had provide their skills freely. Deirdre tried to persuade them to acknowledge the help that they had received, but most were so frightened of men that they couldn't bring themselves to accept that they owed a lot to normal men who would never harm a woman.

If a woman was in imminent danger she could just arrive at Fort Inkerman and enter past the armoured doors. Once inside she was safe even if she only had a mattress on a floor but a proper bedsit or flat could usually be made available in days. There were daytime sessions for women who needed advice and support. Just knowing they were safe from attack for a few hours made a difference to far more women than actually lived at Fort Inkerman.

Deirdre finally persuaded the women of the refuge to arrange a tea party to acknowledge the help they had received. Even then, they would only invite the men IF they would come with their women. The motorcycle cycle club organised a sponsored ride to raise money on the way, with their wives, or girlfriends riding the bike with the man as the pillion passenger. The travellers' provided security at the gatehouse with the wives holding the baseball bats. Some of the travellers' wives looked even more ferocious than their husbands. No one got in without an invite and an escorting woman.

The refuge women had provided a great spread of cakes and scones but they all looked depressed and colourless. They found it very difficult to talk to a man, any man, but they told their stories to the other women. Some of those women became very angry that men had abused the women, and accepted that their man was not only NOT an abuser but had provided practical help in adapting Fort Inkerman. The men might get a demonstration of the thanks from the wives and girlfriends later, thanks that the refuge women couldn't express. However it seemed that some of the women were beginning on the road to recovery now that they knew they were totally safe from their previous abuser.

An incident the previous week had demonstrated just how safe they were. An abusive ex-boyfriend had rammed his car against the armoured doors of the gatehouse. As those doors weighed much more than his car and only opened outwards, his car had been wrecked. He had to be cut out of it by the fire brigade before going to hospital and then jail for breaching a court order. Only the paint on the doors was scratched. They continued to work perfectly but the hydraulic engineers had decided to install heavy duty barrier posts that could be raised to stop any vehicle getting under the gatehouse arch. They over-engineered them. When raised they would stop a 50 tonne vehicle at fifty miles an hour and there was insufficient space for any vehicle to get to a speed of more than twenty miles an hour. Those posts were left in the raised position unless and until a vehicle had been approved to enter.

I came to the tea party with Deirdre, Anna, Darren and Biddie. Biddie was nearly as much of a hit with the refuge women as the MP's black Labrador. Biddie hugged everyone. The Labrador wagged his tail at everyone and enjoyed being stroked and patted.

I was surprised and grateful that some of the women decided hugging Raymond was a good idea. All of them knew just how much I had done, how much effort, and yes, how much money I had committed to the successful adaptation of Fort Inkerman to be a women's refuge. That some of them could actually bring themselves to hug a man, even one so unthreatening and helpful as me, was a tribute to how much safer they felt behind Fort Inkerman's walls.

We had also improved security for the industrial estate surrounding Fort Inkerman. We had installed fast broadband by fibre cables and connected every CCTV camera on the industrial estate to the system inside Fort Inkerman. Any intruder would be seen from inside Fort Inkerman and could be reported by direct CCTV link to the police and local council's CCTV systems. The number of break-ins around the estate had dropped from several a month to nearly none as all attempts led to arrests. The drug dealers had decided that being near Fort Inkerman was not sensible and had moved their operations elsewhere.

The fast broadband also meant that women could give evidence against their abuser in court by video link particularly when the abuser had already been convicted of violent controlling behaviour.

That evening I was worshipping the goddess Brigit under Deirdre's skirt and had just started to get Deirdre beginning to respond when Brigit appeared. Instead of being on my knees with a head under a skirt, I was suddenly naked on our bed with my head against Deirdre's naked cleft as Brigit impaled myself on my erection. Both women reached orgasms long before I did. I suspect that was Brigit's work but I was gasping for breath before I finally came. I went to sleep sucking milk from Brigit's breast. That breast was still in my mouth when I woke up the next morning.

I sighed.

"What's up, Raymond? Feeling used?" Brigit asked.

"Yes, Brigit, and feeling my age. Everything you ask us to do ends up with a continuing commitment before I start the next one."

"But we have helped so many people and you have friends who help, from Bronwen to the travellers. You and I have helped hundreds of people and they are helping others."

"But there are still the drug dealers, the loan sharks, the abusive men and even just the men who are no help at all to their women, Brigit. I can't solve every problem."

"But you have made a real difference and things you have done are still having an effect."

"An effect that has cost me tens of thousands of pounds and many hours of hard work, Brigit. I'm not sure I can keep up the effort."

"Of course you can. You have Deirdre, and Anna, and Darren, and Bronwen, and all your friends in the great and good of the community. They all appreciate what you have done and are doing."

"But all that wouldn't have been possible without you, Brigit".

"True. But I have to work through others, Raymond, and my best and most effective helper is you. You need rest and a reward. Here she is."

A naked Deirdre straddled me before impaling herself on my erection. She rode me unmercifully before I went to sleep with her body above mine. I slept peacefully, awaking to the smell of a Brigit prepared English Breakfast in the kitchen. Deirdre and I appeared downstairs, fully dressed, as Brigit put the breakfast on the table.

"Enjoy. I'll see you soon, or you could always worship me if you want me."

The breakfast was delicious and the milky coffee made with Brigit's breast milk, made me feel that perhaps we had achieved something -- until Brigit has another project for us.