Loading...My stories tend toward the nonconsent/taboo side, but I want to be clear that I’m in no way suggesting that the acts in my stories are okay. Forced sex is a fantasy I enjoy and I write for other similarly minded people. Real rape is ugly and sad, and if it’s something you’re considering acting out you should seek help.
*
My brother was what my mother had always referred to as a ‘lost soul’. The first time he was brought home by the police – he’d been drunk and vandalizing both public and private property – he was fourteen; it just got worse from there. I never smoked pot, but I wasn’t so out of touch that I didn’t know what it was, or that my brother started smoking it around that first time he was arrested. The list of drugs and arrests both grew as he got older.
Meanwhile, I was the ideal child – at least, I was the ideal child for my mother. I was okay in school – mid-seventies to mid-eighties – but what always bonded my mom and me was our faith. I never questioned the beliefs she raised me with; I felt the truth in my heart. Every time we went to church, this sense of peace just came over me. I prayed when I woke up and before I went to sleep, I dressed modestly, and I attended Bible study and the church youth group.
Looking back on it, my brother’s hatred of me was probably largely because of that bond. He never related to our mom on that level because he never believed. Like pretty much every other authority in life, he questioned it and rebelled, and, unfortunately, that drove him and our mom further apart. So far apart, that he went to live with our dad when he was thirteen – another thing that probably didn’t help.
Our mother and father divorced when I was three, and Jared six. Our dad claimed Mom had become a religious nutjob and had forgotten how to live, and our mom claimed he’d promised to settle down after they had kids but couldn’t handle the responsibility. Her picture of Dad always rang true to me; he’s now forty-six, often drunk, and dating loose women. I have pretty much the same relationship with him that Jared has with Mom: not much of one at all.
Anyway, the result of our separate home-lives was that we were completely different people who had nothing in common. Dad let Jared run completely wild, while I followed in my mom’s more conservative footsteps of my own free will. Whenever Jared came to stay with us, or I had to go stay with him and our father, he tormented me. I’ve prayed for the ability to forgive him, but maybe my hurt runs too deep.
But those petty childhood grievances pale in comparison to what would happen right after my eighteenth birthday.
All I did to celebrate was go out for dinner with some friends. None of us drank as we all shared the same beliefs. I got some presents, they told the waiter it was my birthday so the poor waiters and waitresses had to come out and sing me this silly birthday song, then I got a slice of birthday cake with sparklers. Pretty tame, especially compared to what my brother did for his eighteenth birthday. Or rather, what we assume he did – he didn’t actually come home for almost a week, so we really don’t know what he was doing.
The weekend after my birthday, my mom was going to a ten day religious retreat. We ironed out the last-minute details. It was great to have her trust me enough to leave me by myself, and I wanted to prove I could handle it. It was April, so school was still on, and I also had a part-time job. It was basically like a week to be an adult for the first time in my life, completely responsible for myself. Maybe I’m lame, but I found it exciting.
My mom stood by the door the day of her departure, her packs sitting at her feet.
“Well, kiddo, I’m all ready to go. Come here and give me a hug.” She held out her arms.
I meant to give her a quick hug, but I ended up holding on, and before I knew it we were both crying.
“Look at us,” she said, sniffling. “You’d think I’m heading off to war the way we’re acting.”
I stepped back and swiped at my eyes. “I know, but I’m going to miss you. It just really hit me that I’m going to be all alone here.”
“Well, we could always ask your brother to come keep you out of trouble.”
We burst out laughing.
I hugged her again. “I’m going to miss you, Mom.”
“I’ll miss you too, honey.”
I helped her get her bags into the taxi, and stood there watching as they drove away. Excitement and sadness warred in me, but I purposely pushed excitement to the forefront.
I was really trying to look at this as a test for myself. I was very thankful for my relationship with my mother, but sometimes I thought we’d gotten too close, like I couldn’t function without her there beside me. And there were things I wanted to do with my life: go to college, do some missionary work, and eventually start my own family. My mom couldn’t hold my hand forever.
I decided for my first act of responsible adulthood, I would clean up. I swept, I dusted, I vacuumed. I was mopping the kitchen floor when the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Scrawn. Mom there?”
I sent up a quick prayer of forgiveness for disliking my brother.
“No, Jared. She left for the airport at three o’clock.”
“Airport? Where’s she going?”
I rolled my eyes and bit my tongue. “To the Bible retreat in Lake Tahoe. For ten days.”
“Would’ve been nice if she could’ve told me,” he said in his usual surly tone.
“She tried to call you three times this week, Jared. You weren’t home, and didn’t return her calls. She asked Dad to tell you about the retreat, but I guess he forgot.”
“Yeah, whatever. So you going to stay with Dad then?”
“No. I’m staying here,” I said reluctantly.
A pause. “By yourself?”
“Yes.”
“Well, maybe I’ll come visit you.”
I swallowed the vehement ‘NO!’ that sprang to my lips and said simply, “Sure.”
I couldn’t infuse that with any more enthusiasm than I felt.
He laughed and hung up.
***
I woke up the next morning right when my alarm went off, and I got to school in plenty of time. After school, I went straight to work for my five-hour shift.
I worked at a bookstore, which was usually great. I’m an avid reader, so the discount on the books was nice. You also got to discover books you wouldn’t otherwise hear about.
There were just some occasions though, when it wasn’t so great.
The customer in front of me glanced up from the book he’d been reading while waiting in line and smiled at me amiably without a trace of embarrassment. My eyes skirted away and I concentrated on scanning each of his books and trying – without success – not to blush. ‘Disciplining Jane’, the ‘Beauty’ trilogy, and ‘My Secret Life’ were all from our small, but unfortunately still existent, erotica section. After I’d scanned and bagged those three, the customer tossed down the book he’d been reading.
My head felt light as I saw that the cover had a picture of a woman; blindfolded, gagged, and hands and arms tied behind her back, bent over a couch with a riding crop poised over her behind menacingly.
As much as I blushed and tripped over myself whenever someone brought a book like this up to the counter, I had a dark secret: I read smut.
Not smut on par with the stuff this guy was reading – I’m not into the kinky stuff. But I’d gotten hooked on trashy romance novels with graphic sex scenes.
It had started as an accident. Usually, I read Christian Fiction – used to be all I read. One day when browsing the Christian Fic aisle, I found a book with a harmless cover showing a pleasant pastoral scene. The summary on the back described it as a woman’s journey through work problems, family issues, and rediscovering love. Turned out to be a very explicit romance novel that someone had misplaced in the Christian Fic aisle, but I didn’t find that out until after. I bought it, and, at sixteen, discovered things about sex they never taught us in Sex Ed.
I learned to touch myself while reading that book, after an ache that I’d never before experienced developed in a place I’d believed I wasn’t supposed to think about too much until I was married. I tried to put the book down after the first sex scene, but my mind kept returning to it, and I kept feeling that incessant pulse between my legs, a steady drumbeat until I finally gave in.
I prayed, and I felt in my heart that it wasn’t a bad thing I’d done. If anything, it kept me from being tempted to commit a sin. Of course, maybe I was just rationalizing to allow myself to do what felt good.
At any rate, romances and masturbation became my guilty pleasures. I would drive to the Chapters across town to buy my novels, eyes darting nervously around me, looking for anyone I knew. All my friends knew what kind of smut was contained in those romance novels. Before I got addicted to them, a girl in my Bible study group had once confessed that her mother and father constantly fought about the romances her mom read, her devout father angry about her bringing trash like that into the house. None of us had openly condemned her, but we’d all thought it. And then I became what I’d judged.
I’d read my novels locked in my room – one hand holding the book, the other dipping below the sheets. And I couldn’t wait for my shift to be over so I could go and do just that.
Time crawled by, and I found myself seizing upon any task that became available so that I could stay busy until the end of my shift. Finally, the clock said it was time for me to head home.
During the drive home, I found myself flashing back to a particularly bad Jared experience – as I’d come to call them in my head. It was during one of the few times over the years that I’d stayed at my father’s place. My dad had moved into a two bedroom apartment, so whenever I came to stay over, he made Jared give his room up to me.
I hadn’t been reading the romance I’d brought with me. Jared had a habit of bursting into the room without knocking, responding to my protests with only, ‘It’s my room.’, so I didn’t want to start something when I might be interrupted. There was no lock on the door to keep him out, and our dad wasn’t too effective on disciplining Jared.
Finally, one afternoon I had the place to myself. Dad was still at work, and Jared had told me that he was going to be out until late that night with his friends. I went to my room – or Jared’s room, as he refused to let me forget – and took out my new romance. An hour later, after a few erotic skirmishes that the heroine had cut short, the main characters were finally going to have sex.
I was boiling; on top of the heat of arousal, the air moved only sluggishly through my brother’s window. I stripped off my clothes and lay on top of the sheets. My fingers went back to work between my legs, stroking, rubbing, and delving. As the hero put his mouth between the heroine’s legs, his face became Justin’s – my brother’s friend who I had a crush on – and the heroine’s face and body became my own.
The hand holding the book grew limp, and my eyes drifted shut.
“Ew, dirty!” I heard from the doorway.
My eyes flew open to find Jared and Justin – oh, God! – staring at me, Jared sneering, his expression somewhere between amusement and disgust – Justin wide-eyed and shocked. Jared made no move to block Justin from seeing me. I screamed and flew off the bed, landing on the other side of the bed from them in a heap and yanking the sheets down to cover myself.
“Fuckin’ nasty. I don’t need your pussy juice on my bed, Katie. And anyway, aren’t you holy rollers not supposed to bang yourselves?”
My face burned even at the memory.
I never understood why Jared got such pleasure from tormenting me. I was pretty sure he didn’t love me, but I didn’t get the level of antagonism he seemed to feel for me. I thought I loved my brother, but, unfortunately, I knew I didn’t like him very much.
When I got home, I changed into shorts and a tank top to combat the unusual heat we were experiencing. I turned on the living room fan and stretched out on the couch with my latest romance. I still read Christian Fic occasionally, but in truth, after I discovered it, romance was practically all I read besides the Bible and religious literature. Fighting off those teenage urges, I think. I was determined to remain a virgin until I married, but it was hard sometimes.
A noise at the door caught my attention; someone was opening the door! I dropped my book and ran to the phone, ready to call the police when I heard, “Katie?”
Relief warred with anger inside me as he came into the living room. “What are you doing here, Jared?”
He gave a lop-sided grin. “I need a reason to visit my sister in our mom’s house?” He emphasized ‘our’ pointedly.
“I guess not,” I muttered. I went to grab my book, trying to put it away before he could see it, but he caught a glimpse of the entwined limbs on the cover.
“Wow, looks hot,” he said, snatching it out of my hands. His eyes skimmed the back and grew disinterested. “Chick book.”
I held out my hand for the book, but he ignored it.
“Remember when Justin and I walked in on you-”
“Yes!” I snapped.
He grinned, flipping through the pages. “Justin was so embarrassed. When we left, he had a boner like a baseball bat shoved in his pants.”
A thrill shot through me at hearing that. I tried to appear disinterested and hold on to my anger.
“Bet he jerked off thinking about you. What do you thin-Hey!” he exclaimed, eyes lighting on a paragraph that had obviously caught his interest. “‘He slowly parted her with his thumbs, leaning in and running his tongue up her dewy slit.’ Wow, no wonder you finger yourself when you read this shit.”
My face burst into flames, and – with my strawberry blonde’s complexion – I knew I must be bright red.
“Do you have to be so crude?” I reached for the book again, but couldn’t budge it from his hands.
He looked up at me. “Fuck, you take everything so seriously. Can’t you ever just relax and be normal?” he asked in an irritated voice, finally handing over the book.
“If by normal you mean being a drunken idiot who sleeps with everyone, like your friends, then no.”
I turned and went to my room, forcing myself to close the door softly, just barely keeping myself from slamming it shut like a child having a temper tantrum. Like Jared always did when he was mad.
I took deep breaths, forcibly calming myself.
Why was he here?
He sure didn’t come out of any love for me. Two minutes in the house, and he’d already humiliated and insulted me. I just didn’t get it, but I doubted I ever would. Jared was a mystery to me; despite having blood in common, we shared absolutely nothing else.
“Hey, I’m making Shake ‘N Bake; you want some?” the object of my thoughts called out.
Part of me resented him cooking, like he was making himself too at home, even though, as he’d pointed out, this was our mother’s house. I chided myself for my petty thoughts, but I still didn’t want his peace offering.
“No, thank you,” I called back, my tone coming out snottier than I’d intended.
I locked the door and pulled out my homework, then spent the next three hours studying. I emerged from my room for a snack, trying to avoid looking over at the living room when I went into the kitchen, but a noise caught my attention.
He wouldn’t, I told myself.
But he would, apparently. There, on our devoutly Christian mother’s TV, was porn.
He looked over at me then returned his attention to the TV.
“What the hell are you doing!” I exploded.
He looked back and met my eyes. “Watching porn, which is pay-per-view, so quit bugging me so I can watch.”
“You ordered pay-per-view porn!” I screeched. “Mom is going to kill you!”
He rolled his eyes, then took out his wallet. “Here,” he tossed a twenty onto the coffee table, “Mom can keep the change. Now fuck off.”
“You’re not watching that! Not here!” I grabbed for the remote.
He pushed me away. “Seriously, Katie, quit being such an annoying bitch. You’re eighteen now; you can drop the little prude act.”
I was livid. I stomped over to the TV and looked him right in the eyes as I pressed the off button. “Get. Out.”
He stood up, and menace radiated from him as he made his way toward me. “If you don’t like it, then go back to your room.” His voice was low and dangerous.
I swallowed, but stood my ground. He was always pushing me around, and I couldn’t take it anymore. “No. You need to leave, Jared.”
He snorted. “You think you’re kicking me out?” His fingers clamped down around my wrist and he hauled me up against him.
“You know how Mom would feel about this. All of this! Let me go, Jared!”
He didn’t answer, but dragged me toward the couch, shoving me to my knees in front of it. He flopped down behind me, grabbing a fistful of my hair to stop me from rising.
He found the remote, and suddenly the sounds of moans were filling the room again.
“Jared, please, let me up,” I pleaded.
“Just watch the movie. Maybe it’ll help you to relax and stop being such a freak.”
I shut my eyes, and turned my head away. Jared didn’t do anything; maybe he didn’t care as long as I didn’t mess with his movie.
Fine, I decided. He could watch his revolting porno. I would go into my room and let him do as he pleased, then tell Mom and let her deal with it.
“Fine, Jared-”
“Oh yeah, baby, fuck my ass!” I heard from the TV.
My mouth fell slack and my eyes sprang open. They sure didn’t say stuff like that in my romance novels…
The girl on the screen was laying on her side, while the man beside her held one of her legs up and pushed himself into her anus. The camera zoomed in to show her puckered hole stretching to its limit around his thick girth.
It was simultaneously revolting and fascinating; I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
The hand that had been wrapped in my hair trailed down to my nape and started a slow, suggestive massage.
“You like that, Katie?” he murmured.
Reality crashed back down upon me, and I tried to lurch back up to my feet only to have his other hand clamp down on the back of my neck and shove me down again.
“No! Let me up! You can watch your movie. I’ll go to my room.”
Fingertips stroked over my collarbone. When he spoke, his voice was right at my ear, “You sure? Looked like you were getting into it there…”
My shoulder jerked up at the strange sensation. “I’m sure. Let me up.”
“Fine.” The hand pulled back.
I shot up and walked jerkily to my room, my body feeling overcharged and too aware of itself.
“Night, Katie,” he called softly behind me.
***
The next morning, I could barely drag myself out of bed, I was so tired. I’d been unable to sleep the night before, rolling and kicking and getting twisted up in the sheets.
I just didn’t know what to think about what had happened. Jared bugging me was nothing new, but last night things had turned almost…sexual.
I’d told myself all night that it was just the background noise from the porn putting funny thoughts in my head, but I just kept remembering Jared’s fingertips brushing over my collarbone, his hot breath at my ear. I’d felt an excitement that would have been sinful with any man not my husband, but with my brother…
The morning sunlight whipped away the haziness of sleep, and I knew what I had to do. I dropped to my knees in front of my bed and bowed my head in prayer.
***
By the time I walked into the kitchen nearly an hour later, I was prepared to face Jared. I’m not an assertive person by nature, but I had the strength of the Lord on my side, and I knew I had to confront Jared. I would simply tell him that he’d crossed the line, and give him an ultimatum: behave in a respectful manner, or leave.
My timidity tried to sway me, telling me to just ignore him and keep my distance, but prayer had energized me and put everything in perspective. God’s power flowed through me and I quashed the doubts. I had visions of me explaining the sinfulness of what he’d done to Jared, how far into Satan’s clutches he’d obviously sunk, and of him finally understanding and repenting. We would be a happy family, healed and whole at last.
Of course, I’d forgotten that Jared never wakes up before noon on the weekend.
I sighed and decided the talk would have to wait until I got home from work.
Work that day was an eight-hour shift, and it crawled by, my mind never far from the situation at home. When it was finally time to go home, I had to force myself to concentrate on the road.
I arrived at home and immediately knew something was wrong. There were cars parked in our driveway and in front of our sidewalk. As soon as I got out of the car, I could hear pulsating bass music and offensive rap lyrics. By the time I got to the front door, I could smell the unmistakable odor of pot. I was livid by the point I actually made it into the house.
I passed some people sitting on my mother’s couch who I recognized as old friends of Jared’s, watching a couple wrestling on the living room floor. I found Jared sitting at the kitchen table with his friends, pouring shots while another guy rolled a joint.
“Jared!” I snapped, but my courage failed me when he and all his friends turned to look at me. “Can I speak to you in the other room, please?”
Jared gave a goofy grin. “No.”
My anger returned. “Jared-”
“Hey Katie,” he said, his grin turning lecherous, “You remember Justin…”
My gaze veered to the guy he inclined his head toward, and my heart seized. I hadn’t seen Justin in a year, and even before that I’d been carefully avoiding him since ‘the incident’. He was even better looking than before, his intense blue eyes now contrasted against the stubble of a man’s beard.
His face was unreadable, but not unkind. “Hey Katie,” he said softly.
“Hi.” I choked on the word and it came out as a whisper. I forced myself to look back at Jared and meet his gaze. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, in our mother’s house-”
“Katie,” he cut me off, his tone laced with irritation, “It’s just a few old friends from this side of town that I don’t get to see all that much since our mother banished me to go live with Dad.”
I was embarrassed to be airing our dirty laundry in front of these people, but I knew he wouldn’t talk to me in private. “Jared, I’m sorry about your relationship with Mom, but throwing a party in her house isn’t the answer. It’s just a childish way to get back at her.”
He swallowed his shot and slammed his glass down. “No, Katie. This is just a little get-together. I could give a fuck less about Mom. Or about you, for that matter.”
I felt a stabbing pain in my heart; it was a well-aimed blow. I turned and fled past the wrestling match in the living room, out the door to collapse on our front step. Suddenly I was crying – crying for my hurt and embarrassment, crying for missing my mother, and crying for hating my brother.
I heard the door open and my shoulders steeled, preparing for confrontation with Jared. But it wasn’t Jared.
“Hey Katie, I’m sorry about that. Your brother’s still a bit of a dick,” Justin said by way of apology.
I turned my tear-stained face to look up at him as he sat down beside me. “I just…I think I hate him, Justin. I hate my own brother!” I burst into tears again.
He wrapped an arm around my shoulders. His warmth and strength were so comforting, and I felt my feelings for him rekindle.
“You don’t hate him. You just don’t like him. Which is cool. I don’t even like him sometimes.”
“Because he’s a dick,” I said, the word sitting strangely on my tongue.
He burst out laughing. “Yeah, ’cause he’s a dick.” He rubbed my back. “Look, Katie, you can’t really do anything about Jared ’til your mom gets home. Just come in, sit and chill. You don’t have to drink or anything. I’m not.”
“You’re not?” I asked, my doubt showing.
He grinned. “Don’t gotta say it like I was an alcoholic. And no, I’m not. I’ve got too much going on with all the sports to be able to knock it back like these guys. You can come in and chill with me, ‘kay?” Sincere blue eyes locked with my own.
“‘Kay,” I whispered.
His warm hand enveloped mine, setting off sensations in my tummy that I tried to stifle. He was just being nice, I told myself.
As soon as we entered the house, a knot of dread formed in my stomach. I couldn’t sit with these people. These were the people who’d tormented me during high school, calling me a Hudderite and a Jesus-freak. Most of them hadn’t actually, but they were the kind of people who had. Although, I’d seen at least two faces here who actually had.
Just as I was deciding to run to my room, Justin’s hand squeezed mine reassuringly. He smiled down at me and tugged me into the kitchen.
Jared laughed when he saw our hands joined together. “You two hook up out there? I’m happy for you, just don’t be expecting to get any, Justin.”
Justin frowned. “Man, shut the fuck up and quit drinking. You’re being an annoying asshole.”
The others around the table laughed mindlessly, their brains turned to mush by intoxicants. I unconsciously leaned closer to Justin.
“Whatever, man. Just ’cause you’re not drinking doesn’t mean I gotta stop. You keep this up, you’re gonna be Bible-thumping with her soon,” Jared taunted, saying ‘her’ the way you might say ‘cockroach’.
Mortified tears formed in my eyes and I ducked my head down. I saw Justin look at me from my peripheral vision.
“Fuck, you know what, Jared? Fuck you. Come on, Katie,” he said, tugging me to my feet.
We reached the hallway, and we both seemed at a loss for what to do.
“Wanna come to my room?” I blurted out, then felt my face heat at how the words sounded. “I mean, not to…you know…just to hang out!”
He grinned. “Relax, Katie. That’s all I thought you meant. Why don’t we just get out of here for a bit?”
“Okay,” I replied hesitantly. “Just let me change out of my work clothes.”
As I changed, I couldn’t believe it. I was going to hang out with Justin. Justin. Justin who I’d had a crush on since forever. I tried to warn myself against vanity, but I chose my prettiest outfit anyway. Long skirt and a T-shirt, which was what my wardrobe mostly consisted of, but this skirt had a ragged hem that fluttered around my ankles, and the top was a light, flowy material that flattered my small figure.
I nervously stepped out into the hallway, and my heart skipped when Justin’s eyes roved over me. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as we left the house, leaving the booming bass and drunken laughter behind us.
We got into his car and he turned to face me. “Wanna see a movie? Kill some time, you know, until your bro clears everyone out.”
I nodded, wide-eyed, barely able to get out a ‘Sure’.
We got to the movie theatre and had to bandy back and forth before we were able to pick a movie we could both tolerate. He nominated a movie with a ton of sex; I vetoed. I nominated a children’s movie that had gotten good reviews from adults as well as kids; he vetoed. He suggested a horror and I made a face and shook my head vehemently. I suggested a love story and he pretended to vomit. By the time we decided on a suspense-action movie that both of us could stomach, I felt totally comfortable with him. My attraction to him still buzzed mutely, but I was having so much fun that I couldn’t feel nervous.
The only problem was I started to feel too comfortable.
After a couple of brief middle school and high school relationships, I’d decided not to date until I was ready to get married. Being in such close proximity with someone, kissing and getting close was just too big of a temptation to sin. A temptation that guys seemed unable to resist. No, I’d seen too many of my friends fall to temptation even after swearing to themselves, to their parents and to God that they would save themselves for marriage.
But sitting beside Justin in a dark movie theater made me badly want to reconsider that. By the second half of the movie, Justin’s hand had crept over mine, his index finger stroking mine occasionally, and my mind was no long focused on the movie at all.
‘Would it be so bad?’ I thought. ‘Justin wouldn’t pressure me; he knows my beliefs. He obviously likes me – he must like me – and I like him; is it so wrong for us to just spend time together until we decided if we loved each other and wanted to get married?’
The thought of marrying Justin made my chest ache with happiness. He wasn’t like my brother. Sure, he hung out with Jared, but he’d never been cruel or callous like him, always more respectful to girls. I’d never heard of him cheating on a girlfriend, and I’d had friends on Jared’s side of the city who I’d practically interrogated for information on Justin every time I saw them.
Justin would become a good man, a family man, and he’d leave friends like Jared behind. I could picture him being my first, doing the things to me I’d only read about in my romance novels. I was convinced by the time the credits rolled.
We left the theater, and his hand found mine again. I knew everyone around me could see my joy.
We got in the car, and we didn’t lack for topics the whole drive back to my house. Then we were parked.
“Katie,” he said without looking at me, “I had a really good time with you.” He turned and his eyes met mine. “I kinda thought you were way too religious to date, but I think we…you know…” he trailed off, seeming to lack the words. “And I wouldn’t pressure you about the sex thing. Your beliefs are your beliefs and I respect that.”
His words were a dream come true, but something in the way he said it bothered me.
“My beliefs? Don’t you believe in Jesus, Justin?” I whispered, praying with all my heart for him to utter the right answer.
He shrugged uncomfortably. “No, not really. I don’t really believe in God or any of that.”
It was like a knife through the heart. I started to cry before I could help it.
“Hey, hey! What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry…” I sniffled.
“Don’t be sorry, just tell me what’s wrong,” he replied.
“I just, you know, always liked you, and now I find out you like me, too, but I can’t be with you because you don’t believe,” I sobbed through shaky breaths.
He hesitated. “I’m sorry, Katie, but I’m not going to convert for you, if that’s what you want.”
“No!” I said, a little too sharply, then softened. “No, I don’t believe in converting for anyone but yourself. That’s not true faith.
Justin stared at me blankly.
I attempted a weak smile. “Well, at least now I know you don’t think of me as Jared’s dorky, Hudderite sister.” I frowned. “You don’t, do you?”
He burst out laughing. “No, I don’t. I think you’re a cute little Jesus-lover and I wish you could put the religious stuff aside and date me,” he said, a little regretfully, a little hopefully.
I shook my head firmly. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. God is everything to me.”
He heaved a dramatic sigh. “Rejected for God – my self-esteem is gonna be screwed up now, you know that, right?”
I laughed. “I somehow think you’ll be fine.”
We got out of the car, and headed back to the house.
“Are you coming in for the rest of Jared’s party?” I couldn’t keep the bitterness and disapproval out of my tone.
“Nah, he’s pissing me off today so I’m just gonna meet some friends from school or something.” He paused when we reached the front step. “You know, Katie, if you ever come over to the dark side, I’ll be here.” He grinned. “Waiting to do you.”
I flushed, but laughed, not minding his remark because I knew there was no ill-intention behind it. “And if you ever come back to the Lord, I’ll be here,” I replied softly.
His eyes sobered, and I knew a split second before it happened that he was going to kiss me.
He leaned down, and his lips touched mine gently as my eyes fluttered closed. His lips, soft and firm, rubbed back and forth over mine coaxingly. A hand made its way to my waist and held me gently. It was the most connected I’ve ever felt to another human being.
I stepped back, pressing my hand over his heart. “Goodbye, Justin.”
I turned and walked inside, shutting the door behind me.
I leaned back against the shut door, my heart heavy. Suddenly, I smiled. Life was nothing but a test, and God’s love had just helped me get through a serious test of will. It was moments like these that I truly felt His light.
I headed to my room, determined to work on forgiving my brother, and to returning to the serenity and strength that I’d had this morning. Then I’d talk to him.
***
I was on my knees, praying, when Jared entered my room. I felt a twinge of irritation that he hadn’t knocked, but it’s easy to forgive the petty stuff when you’re in the middle of a prayer.
I heard the lock on my door click, and a moment later felt his weight sink down onto my bed just inches away from where my folded hands rested. I struggled to maintain my connection to God, asking Him to help me understand and forgive my brother’s need to violate my personal space.
I was mostly returned to my former place of calm when I felt a strand of my hair being gently lifted and curled around a finger not my own.
“Stop it, Jared,” I murmured absently.
“You know we have the exact same color of hair,” Jared said, tugging on the strand he’d wrapped around his finger. “People always say we look alike, which is kinda funny ’cause you’re a midget. And really skinny.”
My eyes snapped open and I abandoned my attempt to retain composure. “Did you come in here just to insult me?”
He grinned, clearly still drunk. “I wasn’t insulting you. Just telling it like it is; you’re short and skinny. But you’re hot in like a tiny chick kind of way.”
I was still trying to figure out what to make of that comment when he asked, “What’d you do with Justin?”
“We went to see a movie.”
“Did you guys do anything else?”
I frowned, pretty sure I knew what he meant by ‘anything else’. “No.”
“Come on,” he said, tugging me closer by the strand he’d been playing with. “Justin didn’t try anything?”
“That’s really not any of your business!” I snapped, all peace and connection with God now completely gone.
I brought up a hand to try and get my hair back, but he caught my hand and brought it down to rest on his leg. A trickle of unease was spreading through me, an edge to the usual annoyance and hurt I felt when I had these confrontations with Jared. The way he was invading my personal space – not just my room, but my actual physical space – since coming here, something in his look, just wasn’t right…
“Come on,” he said coaxingly, “He didn’t try anything? Didn’t get a little close when he hugged you? Try and get a hand up your skirt? Something?”
My face lit on fire as I tried to pry my one hand free with the other. “No, he didn’t! Now stop it Jared!”
“He didn’t even try to kiss you?” Something must have shown in my face, because he said, “Ah! So he kissed you. Did you like it?”
“Jared…” My eyes stung. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?” he murmured. “I just wanna know: did you like it?”
“Yes! All right? I liked it! But it doesn’t matter because I can’t be with him anyway!”
“Why not?” he tugged me closer, bringing my face embarrassingly close to his private parts.
“Jared, let me up.”
“No. Now answer me: why can’t you be with him?”
“Because he doesn’t believe in God!”
My eyes met Jared’s as a horrible sneer twisted his face. “That’s what it’s always about with you and our fucking mom isn’t it? Jesus, Jesus, Jesus…fuck!”
His anger seemed to explode quickly into rage, and his finger tightened painfully in my hair, his other fingers coming up to burrow in my hair and wrench on it.
“Jared! You’re hurting me!”
He spoke as if he hadn’t heard me, “You know, Mom didn’t give a fuck about me ’cause I didn’t swallow all her church bullshit, and I was her own son. Now you’re turning out just like her.”
“That’s not true, Jared! Mom loves you!”
“Bullshit!” he shouted, yanking on my hair. “Don’t fucking lie, Katie. We both know she never gave a shit, so don’t patronize me with your ‘one-big-happy-family’ shit.”
Tears streamed down my face now. I didn’t know what to do; I was terrified of my own brother.
His eyes took on a strange look, a distant look like he was becoming somehow removed from the situation. “You know what you need, Katie?” he said softly. “You need to realize that your Bible and getting into Heaven aren’t everything. There’s plenty of good shit right here.”
“Ok, Jared-” I began, trying to placate him, but he cut me off.
“I’m gonna do you and Justin both a favor and give you a taste of one of the things you’ve been denying yourself. Maybe when you see how good it is, you’ll get off your high horse.”
My body went stiff. He couldn’t be talking about…
“Jared, whatever you’re thinking-”
“I’m not thinking anything, Katie; I’m telling you. I’m gonna fuck you. You’re gonna like it. Then you’re gonna quit being a freak and be a normal person who fucks and swears and lives like the rest of us.”
“Jared,” I whispered, frozen with shock, “You’re talking about incest!”
That almost seemed to bring him back, but he seemed to push himself back to his detached state. “No, it’s not. It would be incest if I wanted to do shit with you; I don’t. I’m doing this to fix you.”
With that, he started hauling me up and over, trying to pull me up between his legs. I opened my mouth to scream, but one hand clamped down on my mouth while the other gripped a fistful of hair at the base of my skull.
Suddenly I was flat on my back, my hair released, but the hand still clamped over my mouth. I sobbed against his hand, pleading with him my eyes. We both knew I was no match for him physically – even with both hands, I couldn’t pry his one hand off my mouth.
“Shhh, Katie. You’ll like it, I promise,” he whispered, leaning down to nuzzle my neck. He nipped at my throat, and his warm breath caused a strange sensation as it touched my frozen skin.
His knee wedged between mine, forcibly parting them so he could get the other one in and spread my legs into a vee. I hiccuped against his hand as my sobs grew more and more panicked.
He was really going to do this, rape his own sister…
“I’m going to take my hand off your mouth,” he said, causing hope to rise in me. “But you may as well not scream, ’cause if you do I’ll just put my hand back, and no one will hear that one scream anyway with the music this loud.”
My heart sunk as I realized he was right. I felt numb and without hope, and so I didn’t make a sound when he removed his hand. Tears just streamed down my face as my crying quieted to silent sobs. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block him out.
A moment later his lips returned to my neck, gently kissing and nipping all over. A small, detached part of me registered that – physically – this felt kind of nice. But my mind was in too bad of a place to enjoy it.
Jared’s weight came down to rest on me.
“Am I too heavy for you?” he asked with a nip.
I ignored him.
A hand started rubbing up along my side, bunching up the material of my T-shirt then smoothing it back down again.
“You’re so small,” he murmured.
His hand slid up under my shirt, pausing when it reached my bra to trace along the edge. My breath hitched when his finger trailed over my sensitive side.
“Sensitive spot?” he asked, leaning down to kiss the place he’d just discovered. My breathing stopped completely as his tongue dipped out to trace along a rib.
“Lift your arms up,” he ordered.
I didn’t move, just stared up at him blankly. He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me up, then tugged my shirt up over my head, wrenching it down my arms when I didn’t lift them. Then I sat before my brother in my bra.
Jared’s arms encircled me and I cringed, thinking he was going to kiss me, then starting as I felt the catches of my bra release. I quickly lifted my hands to prevent the cups from falling away, but Jared grabbed my wrists and stretched them out in front of me, pulling my bra down my arms with his other hand. He slipped it down over my hands and tossed it to the floor, never taking his eyes off my breasts.
“They’re really nice,” he rumbled, pushing me back down.
He followed and stretched out over me. For a moment, it seemed like he would kiss me, then he shook himself and pulled away.
“I’m not gonna kiss you. That would be a little fucked up.”
I stared at him incredulously, but he was already refocused on one of my breasts.
He rolled the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugged on it and pinched it, then finally leaned down to capture it with his mouth. There was a moment, just before his mouth closed around the taut little peak, when I felt his breath blow across every nerve ending in my nipple. This was a sensation that my imagination had never even come close to.
As soon as he started sucking, part of me forgot that this was my brother and that I was being raped. The steady suction with the occasional graze of teeth was amazing, a million times more sensation than I’d ever achieved with my exploratory fingers. Every time he tugged on my nipple with his mouth, I felt an answering tug between my legs.
He switched to my other breast and an involuntary mewl escaped me. His hand came up to toy with the nipple he’d abandoned. He suckled and suckled, pinched and rolled, and I became incoherent with the feelings. My skin was on fire and I felt a completely instinctive need to have something inside me. Deep inside me. My hips bucked up.
“God, you’re so hot. You’ve got sensitive nipples, don’t you?” Jared groaned, leaning down to nip at one.
His voice brought me half back to reality, but my body was too far gone. I watched the progress of his hand down my stomach, my rational mind screaming for him to stop, my body screaming for him not to.
“Please, Jared…stop…”
When his fingertips touched me, my lips parted. One fingertip teased around my little bump of flesh, my clitoris, which felt swollen and almost hurting with the need to be touched. My hips bumped up instinctively to push his finger where I wanted it.
He chuckled softly, then sucked my nipple back into his mouth, flicking at it with his tongue.
His finger circled and circled, taunting me. My hips leapt off the bed and cries of frustration escaped me. Finally, finally, he touched my swollen button. It was like ignition; the first firm press of his finger and I went off. I cried out and my back arched. As he sensed what was happening, his touch changed to fast and furious rubbing, and his mouth drew hard on my nipple, teeth scraping over and over. The electricity that had been building snapped and washed over me, and I screamed.
Drained, the arch of my back collapsed and I fell back to the bed, gasping.
“Fuck, I knew you were too hot to keep yourself untouched. Do you get it now?”
My gaze refocused, and I nearly vomited when I realized that I’d just came for my brother.
“Obviously not,” he chuckled, pushing me back down when I tried to rise. “Guess you need more convincing.”
He stood and tugged my skirt down. I caught it just before it cleared my hips.
“Jared, you’ve got to stop! I…I get it, okay? We’ll talk, just stop this!” I pleaded frantically.
“Katie,” he said pleasantly, “If you want to keep this skirt, you better let go. Otherwise, I’m ripping it off you.”
“Please, Jared-” I began, still holding on, but, true to his word, he ripped the skirt down. I heard the unmistakable tear of fabric.
His eyes zeroed in on my panties. “Nice flowers,” he commented. His fingers brushed my hips as he ripped my panties off too.
Our eyes met, and what he did next shocked me to the point that it stopped my tears. He held my panties up to his nose, and he inhaled deeply.
“Your pussy smells nice,” he growled.
That word and his actions should have disgusted me, but instead I felt a thrill shoot through me.
He tossed the panties over his shoulder then tugged his shirt over his head. His nipple rings stood out against his fair skin, skin the same tone as mine. When he noticed my fascination, he grabbed my hand and pulled it to one of his nipples.
“Go ahead,” he urged.
I took hold of the ring hesitantly, then gently tugged. I’d been fascinated by these since he got them at sixteen, although I’d forced myself to look away whenever he came out of the shower and their twinkle caught my eye. Now he wanted me to touch them. I traced my index fingers around his nipples and watched them bead.
“I used to smell your panties when I was younger,” he said out of nowhere.
My eyes flew up to his in shock, but his were closed, savoring the sensation as I toyed with his nipples.
“I guess a lot of guys experiment with their mom and sisters’ panties, but I thought I was fucked up or something.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
He grinned. “Probly ’cause I’m drunk.” He pushed my hands away, and his eyes zeroed in between my legs.
“Let’s try something else you never did before,” he said with a grin, already sliding down.
My eyes widened as I realized what he was about to do, my conscience pushing me to tell him not to. I wanted it too much though. I’d read about it again and again, tried to imagine what it would feel like. Now I would know. My eyes drifted shut.
They sprang back open at the first touch of his tongue. A long, broken moan escaped me.
“Jared!”
His tongue traced all around, up and down my swollen, wet folds, pushing between my puffed up lips to circle the hole that only my fingers had penetrated before. His tongue became the second thing to penetrate it as he pushed inside, lapping against the roof of my sex. Whimpering cries escaped my throat as he thrusted with his tongue over and over. My legs were shaking and I held them wide open without his even telling me to. My hands gripped the sheets beside me and twisted them.
His tongue slipped out of me and darted back up to the nub that was now on fire. He circled it and shoved first one finger, then a much tighter squeeze of two inside me. I started to come, spasming around his fingers and bucking into his face, but all of a sudden he pulled away and was left teetering on the edge.
“Why are you stopping?” I gasped, reaching for him.
He grinned and darted out of range. “Because it’s time for your next lesson,” he said, unbuckling his belt.
His jeans hit the floor and his jockeys soon followed. I was mesmerized by the sight of my brother’s penis. It stood out from his body, flushed and hard. I sat up to get a better look.
“Touch it,” he grunted.
I reached out hesitantly and touched a fingertip to the very end of him. It bobbed in return. A bead of moisture appeared at the opening, and I rubbed it around the head. It was so soft, was the first thought that entered my mind. The skin was like silk it was so smooth.
“Grip it, Katie. Like this.” Jared grabbed my hand and wrapped it firmly around his shaft, then moved it up and down his length. Our eyes met as our hands moved over his shaft in unison.
“You ready to give your first blowjob?” he asked with a grin.
I flushed at his choice of phrasing, but not only from embarrassment this time.
His free hand reached around to the back of my head, guiding me forward until I was off the bed and on my knees on the floor. My lips were still closed when I reached the tip of him, and it bumped into my lips.
“Open up,” he commanded.
I opened and felt the silky skin slide over my tongue. My eyes widened as he kept pushing in. I saw him wince as he grazed him with my teeth.
“Keep your teeth covered. With your lips,” he added for the benefit of my inexperience.
I followed his instruction, feeling like I must look a little dumb, but the look on his face soon had me not caring.
“Now suck,” he ordered.
I sucked. He thrusted. I sucked, this time my tongue whirling a little around the head of him.
“That’s it,” he groaned. “Use your tongue, too.”
I did, swirling my tongue all around as I suckled him. He continued to thrust, but I was soon meeting him, gagging only occasionally when he shoved into the back of my throat.
“Shit!” he grunted, pulling me back by the hair. “That’s enough of that for now. Up,” he commanded, tugging me up by the hair.
He grinned. “Down.” He pushed me back onto the bed.
I was going to have sex with my brother.
That fact suddenly became irrefutable and unmistakable for him raping me. I could no longer say he’d raped me. I’d been too willing after the first touch of his mouth to my breasts. And now I wanted him to finish it. I wanted to do it, and I didn’t even care that he was my brother. Were I thinking clearly, I’d have known that I’d care – I’d really care – later when the fog of arousal was gone, but then, at that moment, all I wanted was him inside me.
I made to move back and make room for him, but he caught my ankles and pulled me to the edge of the bed again. He lifted them up and spread them wide, staring at me intently as he leaned in close, pressing his tip against me. My eyes tried to drift shut, but I wanted to look at him when it happened.
“This is the only part that will hurt, Katie. Since I’m such a nice guy, I’ll let you choose whether I try to do it slow, or just do it fast and get it over with.”
I bit my lip. “Do it fast.”
“You’re the boss,” he said, suddenly thrusting inside me, ripping through my hymen in one swift, painful motion. I screamed.
I’d heard it didn’t hurt very much. Over and over I’d read and been told that it was just a little discomfort. Nothing prepared me for how much it hurt.
And Jared was still thrusting. He didn’t even care. I looked up at him accusingly.
His heavy-lidded eyes met mine without remorse. “You had a thick cherry, Katie. Hardest one I’ve ever popped,” he said with a particularly hard thrust.
I groaned, half in pain, half in pleasure. The pleasure began to take over as he pushed my ankles back even farther and leaned in to get leverage on his thrusts. It was a feeling of fullness like no other, each of his thrusts stretching me to my maximum, each of his withdrawals leaving me clamping down hungrily trying to draw him back in.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, thrusting violently inside me.
“Jared…” I moaned, my head thrashing from side to side.
My hips started to buck up to meet his thrusts. I was so full, and suddenly I was clamping down on him and spasming. I cried out harshly as the pressure inside me reached the boiling point, exploding into orgasm.
Jared shoved me backward with a hard thrust, then fell onto the bed, still inside me, still hammering at me. His pace increased to frantic pounding as he followed me to his own climax. He bellowed as he came, hips jackhammering against mine as he sprayed semen into me.
His hips continued to pump, slowing as he came back down. Finally, he collapsed on top of me, pinning me with his weight.
I could feel his heart beating, right against mine. Our hearts slowed together, their frantic rythms easing as our bodies returned to normal.
He pulled out of me, then crawled up until his thighs straddled my head. “Open up.”
I opened. He inserted his penis, and I got my first taste of both of our fluids.
“Good girl, clean me off,” he coaxed.
I did, marveling at the strange taste.
He pulled out with a pop, and left me on the bed. He pulled on his clothes and opened the door, letting in the sound of the still thumping bass, then closed it behind himself; he left without a backward glance.
My brother never had been content to just bug me a little bit; he’d always had to make sure he truly cut me down to my soul, and – as usual – he’d succeeded.
This night, he robbed me of my beliefs, he robbed me of my virginity, and – worst of all – he robbed me of the ability to say that I hadn’t wanted him to at all.