The Freak Pt. 03 of 05

I stumbled into the kitchen around 10:30 Saturday morning. My eyes showed my exhaustion and what my eyes didn't show, my yawns did. I had just grabbed an apple for my breakfast when Carole plopped herself in my lap. "Why are you so tired, J.J?"

"I was up late celebrating."

"Oh," Mom asked as she walked into the kitchen. "What were you celebrating?"

"Yeah, J.J., what were you celebrating?"

I leaned down to hug and kiss my little sister. "I was celebrating you getting a new sister."

Mom laughed, but Carole asked, "Is Mom having another baby? " Then I laughed as Mom choked, nearly spilling her coffee all over her shirt.

"No, this time you're getting an adult sister."

"I guess you asked her, then."

"Yes, Mom and she said yes... obviously."

Mom came over to hug and kiss me, but Carole was still confused until I picked her up to hug her. "I asked Barbara to marry me last night. When she does she'll be your sister-in-law." I turned to Mom and explained how Barbara had almost fallen apart last night at the thought that we might break up when we graduated. "I couldn't sit there and watch her cry, Mom, especially when I already knew that I was going to ask her in another couple of weeks."

"Well, I'm not going to ask how you celebrated. Just make sure you're careful." I shook my head. There was no fooling my mother... dad either. I picked up the phone to dial the Gleason's number. Mrs. Gleason answered and I spent fifteen minutes listening to her tell me how thrilled she was for both of us. I knew then that I'd sit through at least thirty minutes of the same when I picked Barbara up in half an hour.

I listened politely as the Gleason's extolled about what we should do with our wedding. I thought that was funny because all four of us knew that they didn't have any money to spend on it. This wedding was going to be on me. I felt blessed that I could afford the best for Barbara. She deserved it. I stood after being polite for forty-five minutes on the dot, explaining that we had a reservation for lunch and we had to meet with my family, too. They hugged and kissed us and I led Barbara down the stairs.

"Do we really have a reservation for lunch, Jack?"

"Well... " Barbara grabbed my arm and hugged me as we stepped onto the sidewalk. A few minutes later we pulled into the diner's parking lot. It was where we had our first real social interaction—not quite a date, but almost. We sat in the same booth, but this time around we ordered club sandwiches, mine with extra mayo, and Cokes. Unlike our first and even our subsequent visits, we sat together—very closely together—so we could touch and hold each other while we waited for our food.

I knew that Barbara was impatient to make love again. To tell the truth, I was impatient, too, but we still had to spend time with my family. She knew and she understood, but, like me, she wasn't all that happy about it. None the less, we had our smiles in place when I opened the door around 2:00. My parents were extremely pleased. I knew they loved Barbara and approved of our union. No—not that union; the marriage... the marriage!

There were hugs and kisses all around, but none like those from eight year-old Carole whose hug of Barbara might have killed her had I not intervened. We sat around the living room talking about when the wedding would take place. We already knew the where—St. Catharine's. We talked about what Barbara would do in regard to her college and where we might try to find housing. That would be my priority when we went to Cambridge next week.

We stayed until four and left after Mom had invited Mr. and Mrs. Gleason to go out to dinner with our family tomorrow. "I think we'll go to Manero's. What do you think, Jack?"

"I think that's great and seeing that it will be Sunday night we can probably have some of their garlic bread, too."

"I don't think I've ever heard of that restaurant," Barbara told us.

"Not surprising," I answered. "Manero's is up in Greenwich... in Connecticut. We had an aunt and uncle—Dad's sister-- who lived there a few years ago so we used to go there occasionally when we visited. It's a steak house and a good one, but as much as it's known for its steak that's how much it's known for its garlic bread. You'll need to try some if only for self defense."

"I don't think you'll want to kiss J.J., Barbara."

"Want to bet, Carole? What did I tell you? I kiss your brother whenever I can." And then she demonstrated as Carole giggled and my parents just laughed. We waved good-bye as I turned around in the driveway.

Barbara was once again snuggled up really close. "I really love your family Jack. The Gleason's are great people, but I've missed out on having brothers and sisters. I'm glad we're going to have a family."

"I'm glad we're going to do all that practicing," I kidded. She gave me a little elbow to the ribs, but whispered that she agreed. I drove into the motel's parking lot and a minute later we were alone in the room. It had been made up and cleaned. The bed was turned down and a small bouquet of flowers had been placed on the dresser with a note that said, "Congratulations." We were both surprised, but pleased.

Barbara once again moved into my arms. "I'm glad it's early, Jack. We can spend a lot of time kissing and touching while I figure out what I want to do with you. I would have laughed except I knew that Barbara was dead serious. We stood kissing tenderly as we slowly removed each other's clothes. Once we were naked we moved to the bed. Barbara pushed me onto my back so she could climb onto my torso. I wasn't huge physically, but thanks to the changes in my brain I had been able to sculpt my body to maximize my strength. As such, I had very little body fat—just enough to promote optimal bodily functions. My legs were long with muscular definition from my crotch to my toes.

Barbara was about to kiss me again, but stopped and turned to look at my feet. She grabbed one foot and brought it up to lie across my other thigh. Then she did something that made me laugh. She held her tiny foot up to mine so our heels touched. My foot dwarfed hers. Turning to face me she said, "I never noticed how big your feet are. What size foot do you have?"

"Fourteen double-E," I responded. "I need large muscular feet in order to jump so high and to be able to maintain my balance while moving quickly."

"You have big feet. I wonder if there's a correlation between the size of your feet and the size of your penis. Could you have made it bigger, too?"

"Yes, I could have made it twelve inches if I wanted, but why? You learned yesterday to rub your clitoris against my abdomen. You wouldn't be able to do that if my penis... my cock... was that long. That wouldn't be any good for you. It's seven and a half inches long and thick enough to get the job done. That's all that matters."

"It sure is. I love the way it feels inside me, especially at the beginning when my pussy has to stretch to fit you. I had some doubts initially that you'd be able to get it into me. I should have known better, but I was a virgin. I just didn't know."

"I do know one thing—if I don't get into you soon my cock is going to explode. Maybe we can do it three times tonight—once now, once after dinner, and then later, like eleven or twelve. What do you think?"

"I think I need to get that condom on you." She reached over my body, tore the packet open, and unrolled the latex sheath—all in a space of only five seconds. Then she positioned herself over me and dropped, impaling herself just a second later. "You know," she commented as she began to move, "this gives an entirely new meaning to words like impale, spear, pierce, stab, and skewer. I feel like I've been skewered on you, but it's a wonderful feeling... absolutely wonderful. I love it almost as much as I love you." She leaned forward then to kiss me—a kiss that seemed to go on forever. Then she broke it and got down to serious business, fucking me with incredible determination and strength.

She humped me furiously for more than five minutes before I began to feel tiny tremors running through her body. Those tiny tremors grew bigger and stronger with every thrust until they took over complete control of her body. She thrashed around wildly, moving from one side of the double bed to the other in just seconds. I would have cum earlier had I not been so wiped out, but I did cum eventually even as her tight cunt continued to grip me through her orgasm. She had collapsed onto my chest before my erupting cock ran out of semen.

We lay there together, my arms wrapped around her semi-conscious body, for some time before she began to stir. "Oh, Jack—I can't wait until we are married so we can do that every day.—every single day. Are there other ways to do it? I want to try them all."

"Well, there's doggie—so named because it's how dogs and all animals have sexual relations—strictly forbidden by the Church as is every position other than missionary which is how we did it the first time. There are others, too. Ever hear of the "Kama Sutra?" She shook her head to tell me "no" so I told her all about India's imaginative sexual practices.

"How did you learn all about this?"

"Where did I spend most of my time? The public library of course; it is truly amazing what you can learn there. I even read the entire Kinsey Report there one Saturday when I was in eighth grade. Truthfully, some of those positions aren't very appealing, but we can try as many as you want. We can buy the book after we're married if you like." She did like and we made love two more times that evening—doggie the first, which she loved when I reached under her body to caress her breasts, and lying on our sides with her in front of me with her top leg reaching back over my body. It was a slow and gentle mating after our frenzied sex earlier, but she loved it anyway. We finished the night by showering together before taking her home around 1:30.

I was up early to take her to Mass then we went to my house to relax with my family. Mr. and Mrs. Gleason came around three to meet my family and we left at five for the restaurant, roughly forty-five minutes away in Connecticut.

Dinner was great and—yes—we had plenty of garlic bread, but that did nothing to stop Barbara from kissing me. I sent her home early in my Olds—school tomorrow.

* * * * *

Barbara had decided not to make a big deal of her engagement. Her few close friends knew that she had a steady boyfriend--even knew who he was--but she thought a big announcement would be like bragging, something she usually despised. She went to her locker to put her jacket and purse away then selected her books for the morning and walked off to class.

She didn't quite make it. One of her fellow students noticed the ring and practically screamed. A large crowd gathered around Barbara wanting to know the details. Unfortunately, this happened in front of Sister Mary Patrick, probably the meanest man-hating nun in the school. "What is going on here." she practically screamed, totally overreacting to the situation.

"Barbara got engaged over the weekend," one of the girls squealed.

"That's absurd! Get into class now and get seated. We don't have time for silly things like that." The girls moved into the classroom, but when Barbara tried to pass Sister reached out to grab her wrist. She pulled and twisted Barbara to her and as she did she grasped the ring with her other hand, pulling it off of Barbara's finger.

"This is no engagement ring. It isn't even gold."

"No, Sister—it's platinum."

"Nonsense. I'm keeping this in my top drawer with the rest of the cheap costume jewelry. Get to your seat. You've wasted enough of the class's time already." Barbara was near tears as she sat at her desk. She managed to get through the class and the next three, but returned to speak with Sister Mary Patrick before lunch.

"Sister, may I please have my ring back. I promise you that I won't wear it to school again."

"Sure—I know your type," Sister Mary Patrick replied with a voice that dripped sarcasm. "You shake your filthy ass and flash your tits and all the boys go crazy." She grabbed Barbara strongly by the elbow and pulled her into the classroom. "I remember girls like you from when I was in school. Girls flaunting themselves at boys, acting like tramps and floozies."

"But... I'm not... "

"Shut your mouth, slut!" By now she had pulled Barbara in toward the closet and reached inside. A second later her hand reappeared and Barbara felt the first horrible sting. She looked at the nun in disbelief as she whipped the astonished student repeatedly. "You're a slut! A whore! A slag! A slattern! You're no better than a woman who sells herself on the street. I know what you're thinking." And using her most mocking voice she continued, "I'm going to tell. I'll tell the principal... Sister Mary Theresa.

"Well... go ahead, whore—I've been beating sluts like you for almost twenty years and I'm still here. She knows and she's done nothing about it. She'll do nothing about it now either." She began whipping Barbara's back anew, but this time Barbara was able to push the older and much heavier nun away.

She ran to the door, crying and bleeding. "You don't know my fiancée. He'll eat you alive... Sister Mary Theresa, too." Then she bolted out the door and down the hall. Stopping only for a moment at her locker she grabbed her purse, left the locker open, and ran to the parking lot. Less than a minute later she was off school grounds, driving as carefully as she could through the veil of tears that poured from her eyes.

Where to go—that was the question. Mrs. Gleason would support the nun even though Barbara had done nothing wrong. She drove instead to Jack's home, praying his mother would be there.

* * * * *

I had just opened my poetry book to Poe's classic, "The Raven," when the public address system blared. "Mrs. Wohl, please send Jack French to the office immediately. His mom is on the phone and there's some problem at home." I didn't have to be told twice. I was out of my seat, leaving my books behind, knowing that one or more of my friends would take care of them for me. I went down the stairs two at a time and less than ten seconds later I stormed into the office. Mrs. Cecil told me to come behind the counter to take the phone. "It's your mother, Jack.'

"Mom, what the problem?"

"Jack, Barbara's here. She's crying and incoherent. Something terrible must have happened at her school. You need to come home. She really needs you, Jack."

I rung off and dashed out the door, running to the parking lot about a hundred yards away. I was in the Jeep and driving away in less than a minute. That's when I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I would be doing nobody any favors if I crashed and killed myself. I slowed down, knowing that I'd still be home in ten minutes or less. There was no traffic so I was able to go a few miles above the speed limit. The closer to home I got the faster I drove, my tires squealing when I pulled into the driveway. I ran into the house where I found Mom and Barbara in the living room. She was still crying and shaking terribly. The first thing I noticed was that her engagement ring was missing. "Barbara, honey, what's wrong," I asked as I put my arms around her. I was shocked when she grimaced and gasped in obvious pain and my shock was even greater when I saw her blood on my hands. I stood and looked in amazement at her blood-soaked blouse.

Taking her hands into mine I then used my handkerchief to wipe the tears from her face. "Try to calm down, love. Tell me what happened. Mom, can you get her some water, please?"

Barbara took a couple of long drinks then told us in barely coherent sentences that were broken by gasps and heavy panting. "It was... Sister Mary Patrick. Some of the girls... they crowded around me to see my ring then she... she grabbed my hand and ... she twisted it off my... off my finger. My wrist really hurts. I tried to talk... tried just before lunch to... to speak with her, but... but she called me names—whore and slut. She pulled me into... into her classroom and started to beat me. She... she told me she's been doing... beating girls for... for twenty years."

"What about the principal?"

"She told me, Jack... she told me the principal knows but hasn't done anything." I was livid. Luckily, they were ten miles away and Barbara needed medical help or I would have driven to that school and killed both of them. Instead, I unbuttoned Barbara's blouse, gasping in shock when I saw the oozing welts on her back. Gently, I replaced the blouse and walked out to the kitchen to phone my lawyer.

Stanley Silverman had been my lawyer for years. He had been instrumental in forming my corporation. That's right, I was incorporated—my investments were all owned by JJF, Inc. I knew he'd give me good advice. He was on the phone less than a minute after his wife Rebecca had greeted me. I settled my nerves and told him what had happened. "You know where Cross County Hospital is in Yonkers, don't you?" He continued once I had agreed. "I'm on my way. I'll have a friend from the Yonkers P.D. meet you in the ER. His name is Lt. Paul Flanagan."

"You're getting an Irish Catholic cop for a case against some Catholic nuns?"

"Don't worry about that. Just take care of your fiancée. I'll see you soon." I hung up and helped Barbara to her feet as I explained to my mother what we were doing. I eased Barbara into the passenger seat of the Olds. It was much faster and more comfortable than the Jeep.

Cross County Hospital was just off the Cross County Parkway—thus the name--only about ten minutes from my home with but one traffic light on the trip. I stopped in emergency parking at the ER and helped Barbara in. "What's the rush, buddy?" It was a security guard who asked.

"My fiancée has been whipped at her school. She needs attention." I turned her around to show her bloodstained blouse. "Don't bother calling the police; they're already on the way."

Barbara was shown to a screened off area where her blouse was removed while I gave what information I could at the registration desk. Rather typically, they were mostly interested in who was paying. I was there when a tall thin man in a grey suit walked in. "You Jack?"

"Yes, I'm Jack French."

"Paul Flanagan; where's your girlfriend? Stan gave me some preliminary info, but I'll need to speak with her directly. I also have a photographer and a female officer on the way." I finished the registration process by signing that I would be responsible for any fees then led the detective down the hall. I was sure that he'd seen everything in his years on the force. Yonkers was a city of more than 70,000 people and there were murders and rapes that occurred almost every day. All the same, he did a double take when we walked in to see her.

Barbara was lying on her chest when Lt. Flanagan told the nurse to keep her blouse and bra for evidence. "Also, I want you to wait a few minutes until a photographer arrives."

"We have a camera here for cases like this Lieutenant." She returned with it a few minutes later and had taken three flash photos when the female officer and the police photographer rushed in. Once again several photos were taken. Barbara was asked to sit up, a towel over her breasts for modesty and privacy, so more could be taken from different angles. Then she was allowed to lie down for treatment. Lt. Flanagan asked her about the incident and Barbara, who was much calmer now, told exactly what had occurred from the theft of her ring through her beating.

I was watching Flanagan's face as Barbara spoke and I was surprised at his reactions. I could see real anger in his eyes. I found out why later on, after Stanley Silverman walked into the area, attracted no doubt by hearing Flanagan's strong voice. He sat by silently until Flanagan was finished. "How much did the ring cost, Jack?"