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From: "Ray" <ray1031@cac.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} {BIRTH} "Little Sister"  by Ray1031  (MF, Rape, Rom)
Date: Sat,  2 Nov 2002 04:10:03 -0500
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This story begins a little nasty and travels
through shadow and darkness before finally coming
out into the light. It is not a nice story, even
though it ends well and it is another that hardly
went where I originally planned.

It is being posted as part of the birthday
celebration for our Alexis In Alaska, though it
is not the type of story I would have preferred
to write for her.

For inspiration, it comes loosely from the story
a couple of friends told me of how their love
really came to be, and the Elvis Presley song
"Little Sister" The posted story codes 'do' all
fit ...

Forgive me Alex.


Little Sister  by Ray1031  (MF, Rape, Rom)

The following story contains scenes and descriptions of a
sexual and erotic nature. This one also includes violence
and Non-consensual sex (rape). If you are not of legal age
or moral disposition to read such stories, or it is illegal
to possess or read such stories where you are . . .
then please leave.

For all others, I hope you enjoy this story posting.
Comments and criticisms are welcome . . . except from
religious fanatics . . . sorry, but I don't need people
telling me I'll burn in hell if my personal beliefs are
not the same as theirs.

Thanks for your consideration.


Little Sister  by Ray1031  (MF, Rape, Rom)


I was sitting at the bar when Holly came through the door, her coat parted
because it would no longer close around her swollen belly. Seeing me she
nodded when I indicated the empty stool beside me and began wending her way
through the maze of tables. Pete behind the bar had seen her also and raised
an eyebrow at me - I nodded and he poured her a glass of orange juice,
setting it before the empty stool as she arrived and taking a dollar from
the small stack of bills before me.

Leaning her heavy milk-filled breasts on my arm Holly gave me a quick kiss
and used her hands on the bar and my leg to steady herself as she climbed
onto the stool beside me, nodding her greetings to those she knew around us.

Giving my leg a squeeze before removing her hand she said, "Thank you dear
for waiting here and not coming straight home from work."

"You're welcome sweetheart. I needed a drink anyway, rough day at work,
though I'm starting to get a little hungry. How much longer before your
anniversary surprise is ready and I can come home?"

"Another hour I think, Kenny and Alice showed up at the last minute with
some decorations they want to put up. The delay is why I came, so you
wouldn't show early and spoil things for them. You know how sensitive they
can be if their little plans are spoiled."

"Yes, and I also know how much you love your little anniversary games ...
want to tell me what you have planned for tonight?"

"Of course not! You'll have to wait and see, like always."

"Okay, but who all is there?"

"Ken and Alice, Marty and Tricia, George and Felicia, oh, and Angel said she
might stop by later, if she can get away from Richard. Mom and Dad still
aren't talking to us and won't be coming."

"Finish your juice and get back before they trash the place. Get Kenny,
Alice, Tricia and George all together and they get carried away ... they'll
have our furniture stacked against the walls to make a dance floor if you're
not careful."

Draining her glass she gave me a final kiss and said, "Don't forget to be
surprised when you come in." I watched as she wended her way back through
the tables, pausing here and there to speak with friends as she left.


"You want another one Victor?"

"Yeah Jeff, I've got another hour to kill before I can go home. But only the
one ... wouldn't do for me to drink too much before arriving at my own
'surprise' party."

"She told you about the party in advance?" from Tommy, who was new to the
area and the little group at the tavern. "How does that make it a surprise
party?"

"Yeah, she told me ahead of time. "She's making sure that I will be 'home'
for the party, and that I will be in a good mood for it, not that I'm likely
to work late on an anniversary anyway, but knowing there will be a party and
guests I take extra care not to allow any daily frustrations to affect me or
come home with me. My wife can become mean when her little plans are
spoiled."

"Anniversary? She's your wife? I thought she was your younger sister or
something. Picked her a little young didn't you?"

"Not really, no."

"Just like 'em young, huh?" Jeff and a few of the others at the bar were
suddenly looking daggers at him and Jeff made some comment about the local
college team to try and change the subject. I waved him off though.

"It sounds to me like you may have already heard one or another of the
stories of how Holly and I came to be a couple ... I'm not in the least
proud of how things happened between us, but if anyone outside of the five
people sitting at this bar told you the story, then it's probably a
distortion of the truth."

"You didn't rape her and make her into your sex slave then?"

"Blunt, aren't you? I'm glad I'm in a good mood tonight. What do you think
guys ... should I tell him the true story of how we got together? Or would
you all rather I leave and tell him yourselves?"

"Probably be better if you told him Vic. From the horses mouth and all
that."

"It will likely save confusion in the long run and it will get the story
right in one telling. Been long enough since any of us have even thought of
it we'd forget some important parts."

"Okay Sean, I'll tell him. Give everyone but me a round Jeff." Looking at
Tommy I said, "Let me start by saying that Holly looks a few years younger
than her twenty-one years and I look a few year older than My twenty-eight."
I began retelling what to me was now ancient history - though things
happened only three years before ....

I recounted how my family had arrived in town when I was thirteen, moving in
down the street from Holly's home. Holly, six at the time, has an older
sister, my age, named Angel and the two of them look as alike as two dimes.
Had they been closer in age and height people would have easily mistaken
them for twins. It was Angel that I first met and with whom I quickly became
a couple. I glossed over most of the next twelve years, mentioning pretty
much in passing the dating and proms, the sex and squabbles, and the
twenty-two times I caught Angel cheating on me. Yet I loved her, or thought
I did, and always took her back.

Shortly after I'd begun hanging around, Holly took a shine to me and would
follow me around like a lost puppy, whether her sister was present or not.
Part of it may have been that I never treated her like a child or a bother,
but always listened to her and dealt with her as an equal. Sometime during
the passing years I came to feel that Holly, no matter her age, seemed to
have an old soul ... she spooked me at times.

After graduation, Angel and I moved across town and into our own apartment.
I foolishly thought that getting her away from her mother and father, who
never seemed to care for me, would improve our relationship, but I was
mistaken. Her behavior became steadily worse as she ran through lovers like
most women run through hose. She started using drugs at some point, probably
while we were still in school, but I didn't catch on until after we'd been
living together for almost a year. She's slept with every one of these guys
at the bar at one time or another, Tom. It was her stealing from me to
support her growing drug habit though that finally made me know that we
weren't really a couple any more.

Then came the day that I arrived home early from work. I found her and three
male friends stripping our apartment of anything with resale value. I tried
to stand my ground and was soundly beaten to a pulp for my troubles as Angel
screamed and cursed me as a totally worthless human being. It was Angel
hitting me in the head with a heavy vase that finally put my lights out and
ended the fight - I was losing anyway, but once I was out I think they quit
beating on me.

I called the Cops, of course, and filled out the necessary police reports.
They insisted that I get thoroughly examined and photographed for evidence
reasons and the doctor wanted to admit me, but I wished only to go home and
refused.

After that, things get real fuzzy for a while. I stopped at a liquor store
on my way home and bought myself a couple of cases of bourbon. I'd quit
caring, after the beating, and really believed myself to be as worthless as
she had said I was. All I wanted at the time was to drown my sorrows and not
come up again.

I didn't know how much time was passing, had passed, as my life quickly
became an endless succession of drinks, one following another until I became
drunk enough to simply pass out. Food and cleanliness were forgotten as I
awoke from each episode only to reach once more for the bottle which was
constantly beside me. Traveling from drunken haze to drunken haze as I
pitied and cried for myself and railed impotently in my mind against the
bitch who had reduced me to this state. Steadily building and feeding the
rage inside me as I made a mental list of all the many things I wanted to do
to her .... if only she were there before me .... and then she was there.

I came to on the living room carpet in a pool of my own vomit. Someone was
struggling to lift and move me. Opening my eyes and looking through sleep
hazed eyes my alcohol fogged mind saw that vile bitch Angel bending over me,
man-handling me once again.

Suddenly I was standing, roaring out my rage as I gripped her tightly around
the throat with one hand and holding her off the ground as I tore the
clothing from her body. She tried to fight me, ineffectually, and tried to
cry out to me or scream, but my grip on her throat allowed only squeaks and
gurgles to pass as her face began to purple above my compressing hand. I
remember throwing her down onto the carpet and tying her hands and ankles
with the shreds of her own blouse as she struggled to regain her breath. Her
voice as cracked and hoarse as she tried calling out my name once more and I
knew I wanted none of it, I filled her mouth with the remains of her
brassiere and tied it in place with her own torn panties. Fearing that my
resolve might waver were I to look into her face and eyes, I covered her
head with her own pink hot pants and cinched them in place with their own
belt.

Then I brutalized her. I raped her repeatedly, both vaginally and anally and
viciously mauled and twisted her breasts, I remember literally using then as
handles to pick her from the floor at one point. When she tried to struggle
beneath me, to kick or knee me, I used my belt on her ... lashing her
unmercifully across her back and buttocks. When she tried to roll away from
the beating I whipped her across the abdomen, pelvis and thighs. I beat her
with that belt until I could raise it no longer and I fell in a sobbing heap
beside her gasping out my rage and pain as I tried to catch my breath.

I remember screaming at her, asking how she liked being treated as an
object, a plaything to be used and discarded.

When I no longer had the energy to beat her further, I reached for a
cigarette and lit it as I tried to decide what further punishment was
appropriate. It was then that I remembered the movie "The Scarlet Letter"
and I decided that she deserved to be branded with an "A" for the adulterous
bitch she was. Not having the proper equipment for a branding I remember
deciding that the lit end of the cigarette could do the job for me. I began
holding it against her breast as I began the brand.

I can still smell the odor of her burning flesh. It was too much for me
though and I soon found myself bent over on my knees and vomiting anew into
the carpet. Somehow, at some time, during the retching and the dry heaves
that followed, a small portion of my brain began speaking sanity to the rest
of it. I came to realize exactly what I had been doing and immediately
regretted my actions and my rage.

I began untying her then and saw exactly what I had done to her body as I
progressed. No matter the perceived provocation, no one deserved what I had
been doing to her ... at least not by my hand. There were deep darkening
patches covering most of her torso from her knees to her shoulders where I
had man-handled and mauled her. Her abdomen, back, thighs, hips and buttocks
were covered with welts and thin oozing cuts caused by my belt. There were
deep bite marks I had no recollection of inflicting on her breasts and a
couple were lightly bleeding. While untying her wrists I found the little
finger of her left hand protruding at an odd angle ... I had broken it. I
sobbed and bawled like a four year old who's favorite toy has been broken in
front of him as I continued working to free her. I knew Angel would have me
arrested ... I knew I would be locked away in a prison and truly believed
that I deserved to be locked up. But the true horror was yet to come for me.

When I removed the shorts from her head and looked into the face of the
woman I had just violated and brutalized, I found it was not Angel but Holly
who had been the recipient of my drunken rage. Sweet innocent Holly who had
never wronged me in any way. Dear Holly who had always stood up for and
defended me when her sister told lies to her parents and they all railed
against me. My sobs redoubled as I hugged her naked and tortured body to
mine, until I realized I was gibbering and hiccupping incoherencies into her
ear.

I remember calling for a Taxi, not an ambulance, and wrapping her in a robe
I fetched from my closet. I carried her down the four flights of stairs to
the street below and held her close all through that ride to a nearby clinic
the driver knew of. I remember calling the police and reporting a rape
victim at the clinic, fully intending to confess to all and accept my
responsibility, my deserved punishment for my crimes against the innocent
young woman. I remember the argument with the doctor and nurse, as I refused
to leave her side while they worked, holding her hand the while. I remember
her opening her eyes and my telling her I was sorry and her soft hand as she
touched my cheek, telling me it was okay, she understood. Then I remembered
nothing until days later.


I woke up in a hospital bed with an intravene needle in my arm and the
memories immediately came flooding back, past the pounding in my head and
the feeling like gauze in my mouth and throat. It had been the doctor's
touch on my wrist, taking my pulse, that had wakened me. He told me of
Holly's statement to the police of having been attacked and brutalized by
three masked men in an alley; and how I had come to her aid and probably
saved her life. He told me I was a hero and that a detective would be by
later asking after a statement from me. He also informed me that he'd told
the police not to expect much since I'd been very intoxicated and suffering
from alcohol poisoning when I'd arrived with Holly in my arms.

At my questions I learned that Holly would be fine. That except for a
dislocated finger and a little internal bleeding from the rape, all of her
injuries were minor and would heal well, though she would carry  a scar from
the burn on her breast. Her parents had been called and had arrived with
clothing for her ... she had been released.

As the doctor stepped away I found Holly sleeping on the rooms other bed.
Following my eyes he said she had refused to leave my side since they had
finished working on her, even refusing to go home with her parents. She had
demanded to stay beside me until I awakened and during her waking hours
would be found holding my hand and talking softly to me as I slept. Then he
was gone to see his scheduled patients.

Holly woke up before the police arrived for my statement and reaffirmed what
the doctor had told me, going over her statement to the police in detail. At
my one word question "Why?" she looked at me with that adoring puppy look of
hers and replied, "You weren't doing those things to me, you were doing them
to Angel and my sister or not, that bitch deserved everything you did and
then some. She had it coming to her in spades. I knew it wasn't me you were
attacking even as it was happening, it was she you were hurting, not me and
I realized that. I could never fault you for what happened because she
deserved it all. It was a simple case of mistaken identity. Besides," and
here she grinned. "I've always wished you would one day take me sexually,
like you did her." Holding up the cast, it and a bruise on her throat being
the only visible sign of what occurred (any other bandages or marks being
hidden by her clothing), "Only I never imagined it would be so rough." I
reached for her then and softly caressed her face. She did not flinch or
draw away from my hand in any way, so I came to believe her words.

The police detective didn't arrive for hours and Holly and I talked long and
hard about things until they arrived.

I vowing to make a clean breast of it to the police when they arrived and
take my punishment and she threatening to discredit any such confession as
drunken delusions and expecting the doctor to back her up. It took a lot of
talking on her part, but she finally convinced me not to make a confession,
saying she didn't wish to visit the man she loved in some smelly prison.
When the detective arrived I told him I couldn't remember anything of that
night. That my first recollection, before waking in the clinic bed, was from
days earlier. That I'd been drinking away my sorrow over a relationship gone
bad. Truth and lie at once.

The doctor kicked us out with a smile the next day, saying he was tired of
our monopolizing one of the only two rooms he had available for patients. He
wanted his bed space back. Holly had a bag and the clothes her parents had
brought and one of the nurses had washed the clothes I arrived in, so we
weren't as disreputable leaving as we had been on our arrival. We returned
to my apartment and spent the next three days cleaning it together and
talking. Holly's Mom and Dad arrived on the third day and thanked me for
saving their daughter's life, but asking me to stay away from Holly or any
other member of their family. They believed I was the reason Angel had gone
bad and turned into a drug addict and a slut. They didn't want the same
thing happening to their remaining child.

It was Holly who refused to leave me. Once the apartment was clean she moved
herself and her belongings in. When she did, her parents disowned her,
vowing to never see her (and me) again.

Angel and her friends were arrested for beating me, though they weren't
tried for robbery because she and I had lived together for as long as we
had. Holly and I posted Angel's bail and vouched for her character before
the judge passed sentence, claiming it was her drug habit that had caused
the problems. She received probation, providing she completed a
rehabilitation course and stayed clean, and she has as far as I know ... at
least she's always straight when she visits.


I called my boss and asked for my job back, I'd figured it was gone with all
of the time I missed. He'd read the story in the paper though and
'understood' that I had been injured while saving another. My job was
waiting for me when I was well enough to return, with a small raise. I
wasn't to rush myself, but was to be sure I was fully healed before coming
back ... I decided to take the rest of the week off and return to work the
following Monday.

"It took Holly three months to convince me to have sex with her again,
willingly and gently this time. Holly and I were married six months later,
and have been happy together since. Our first child is due next month ... a
daughter. I've been talking almost an hour now, and I think I'd better start
heading for home. Holly has this way of pouting when I'm late that simply
breaks my heart."

"That is amazing," from Tom. "Amazing and wonderful, that she could go
through all of that and yet stay so deeply in love with you. It's marvelous
that you were able to stay together and marry after what happened. You've
been married for three years now? Happy Anniversary Victor."

In the process of rising I paused. "You misunderstand me, Tom. Holly and I
have only been married for two and a half years. Tonight is the anniversary
of 'that' night. The night I attacked and raped her. She wishes to remember
it as a good thing and celebrates it as the event which began our life
together."

"What? You are kidding, right?"

"In many ways I wish I was, but my wife has her own way of looking at
things, and I love her all the more because of it. She believes the event to
be the beginning of our commitment to one another, the real start of our
ever deepening love."

I finished standing as we spoke and took a moment to think before
continuing, "Do you know the Elvis Presley song 'Little Sister'? ... No? ...
Well, Holly once compared our life together to that song. It's about a boy
who's royally fucked over and then dumped by his girlfriend, a bad
relationship ending worse. Yet, despite the created bad feelings, despite
the history involved he gives her 'little sister' a chance when she
approaches him. Holly remembers that night not as an attack and rape, but as
a catalyst which caused me to give her a chance despite what her sister done
to me in the past and in spite of the things her parents said. That is why
she celebrates the day."

"I'll be honest with you ... when she moved in I had some very major doubts
and reservations. I allowed it from of a sense of duty and responsibility.
It was an obligation which I owed her for what I had done and her support of
me after. For the longest time, it was she who initiated all physical
contact. It was she who forced the sexual issue and brought love-making back
inside the walls of the apartment. But that didn't happen until after I
started to know that I really did love her and couldn't imagine my life
without her in it."

"It was only after I admitted to myself how much in love with her I was and
after I was again comfortable with the idea of sex (and specifically sex
with her) that I accepted her proposal of marriage."

Staring wide eyed, Tom's response was one word, "Amazing."

"Since that night, I have never raised either a hand nor my voice to her."

"She asked me to marry her twelve times before I finally accepted."


The Lyrics for the song  "Little Sister" may be found at:
http://www.ryanpelton.com/song/lyrics/ly057.html

Copyright October 2002 to: Ray1031
www.http://asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Ray1031/www/

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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