A Family Affair: An Extreme Taboo Anthology

by Vance, Ally

  I throw a punch at him, but he is just out of my reach. I try to get his hands off of me by kicking my legs, but it's useless as he has my jeans around my ankles. I can't work them off to move my legs because they won't fit over my shoes, effectively imprisoning me in my own clothing. All of the energy that I exerted takes a toll on me and I give up my fight, collapsing beneath him.

  Uncle Jack picks me up, and I scream. Holding me in a bear hug from behind, he places his hand over my mouth, drowning out any noise that would alert someone to my dire situation. My feet dangle below me, and he doesn't put me down until we reach the workbench on the other side of the storeroom.

  He bends me over the thick slab of wood and pushes his hips against my ass, holding me in place so hard that the table cuts into my skin and bruises my hip bones. Removing his tie, he stretches my arms out against the table and threads it around my wrists, securing it to a vice on the other side of the table.

  “It’s been such a long time since I’ve had you,” he says bending over me, covering my body with his completely. “After the stunt you pulled last year, I had to be careful when I came around. I couldn’t go near you. Your mom watched you like a hawk. You probably thought that I had forgotten all about you. Well, I never did."

  He rips my work shirt open, and I hear several of the buttons scatter across the floor beneath me. Reaching into my bra, he pulls the cups down, leaving each of my boobs hanging free. He gropes them, squeezing them painfully. When he finishes, he pulls me backward as far as I can go so the slack is tight and my ass is out and entirely on display. He kicks my feet apart as far as my pants will let him, so I am spread a little wider for him.

  “Brianna,” he pants. “You’re more lovely than ever.”

  “And you’re still a sick fuck!” I scream back at him as angry tears stream down my face.

  Suddenly I feel a sharp sting, followed by fire spreading across my skin as his hand connects with my ass.

  "You'll watch your tone with me if you know what's good for you." He covers me with his body again.

  He runs his hand down my side and in between my legs. Placing his fingers inside of my underwear, he traces my opening. I cry out, silently begging for all of this to be over. He forces his fingers inside of me and thrusts them in and out vigorously. It takes everything in me not to moan a little bit when he does. I hate that he elicits this kind of response from me.

  “Brianna, you’re so tight. Were you a good girl while I was gone? You didn’t have any other boys inside of you, right?”

  I refuse to answer and he reacts with another, much harder, smack to my ass.

  “Right? You answer me when I ask you a question.”

  “Right!” I sob.

  He moves his fingers a little faster as he unbuckles his belt with his other hand. I hear his pants fall to the floor just before he rips my underwear from me.

  “You have such a pretty pussy, Brianna.” Removing his fingers, he traces my crack and spreads my juices all over me.

  I close my eyes in shame that he can make me wet like this. My treacherous body betrays me exactly how it used to. Nothing has changed in the past year. I thought that maybe I had gotten too old for him. Perhaps he had gotten bored with me. I started to dream of a better life. I've tried to swallow my fear and self-doubt. I've been working to build some confidence to move past everything that's happened. I had a plan. I was going to get my shit together and leave this town, never looking back. I'd hoped, and to hope is dangerous. It doesn't bring anything other than a crushing wave of disappointment and despair. I was stupid for thinking that it was all said and done.

  When he crouches down behind me and takes a taste, loudly moaning his delight, my soul shatters all over again. It's too much; too personal. I'd rather him just fuck me and get it over with. I scream out in disgust, anguish, and anger as he pulls my ass cheeks apart a little further, diving his tongue inside and devouring me. His hunger is ravenous, and it feels like he is about to lose control of himself.

  “The taste of you is the strongest aphrodisiac that I’ve ever had,” he says, pulling his face away from me. “I could feast on you all day long, but I can’t go any longer without being inside of you.”

  My eyes fall beneath me and I can see him, fisting his dick, stroking himself as he licks me. I can feel the bile rise from my stomach into my throat, and I expel the entire contents of my stomach onto the workbench beneath me.

  “Stop being so dramatic, you know you like this,” he says rising to his feet and running his fingers through my slit again. “The thought of being inside of you again, it’s consumed me for an entire year. You’re all I’ve been able to think about.”

  Without warning, he pushes himself inside of me, and I scream out. It hurts so bad that it feels like he's fucking me with a piece of sandpaper. He thrusts into me rapidly, over and over again. I look down between us, and I see some red-tinged wetness on the insides of my thighs. In ten minutes, he has managed to tear me to shreds all over again; physically, mentally, and emotionally.

  I remember what Chelsea told me the other day; that Uncle Jack left her bloody and broken, too. That Bash came and took care of her, and they've been happy and able to heal since then.

  Would they do the same for me, especially after what I said to them the other day?

  I have to stop. I can't believe that I am even considering it. The fact that I am thinking of my cousins fucking one another, while my uncle fucks me, is too much to process right now.

  As if his dick were a wrecking ball, every one of the walls that I built in my mind, walls that I created to try to protect myself from reliving the events of my past, were destroyed the second that he entered me again.

  “Oh, Brianna, how I’ve missed this,” he slows down a little, “I want to savor every moment.”

  He fists my hair and turns my face toward him. Capturing my lips, he forces his tongue into my mouth. His other hand reaches under my body and grips my nipples tightly. The pain that my delicate body is enduring is too much, and my vision becomes skewed as darkness closes in. I give in and let my body collapse onto the table beneath me. If I go, it won't make a difference. He will do what he wants, whether I am responsive or not. Closing my eyes, I go limp beneath him, letting my body plummet into unconsciousness.

  * * *

  I have no idea how much time has passed when I wake up. When I do, I see my hands are free from their binds. I am sitting on the ground with my back leaning against the table leg. Uncle Jack is standing over me with his dick in his hand, and his cum is dripping down my chest. Tucking himself away, he kneels down onto his haunches and grabs my chin. He leans in and places a kiss to my lips, and I am too weak to try and stop him.

  “I’ll dream of you tonight, little girl. I can’t wait to see you again,” he says as he takes one final whiff of my hair before leaving.

  I sit there and sob for what feels like forever. I am weak. I don't know why I ever thought I would be able to overpower him; to fight him off. Once I am finally able to collect myself enough to move, I stand carefully. My body is lethargic from the ordeal that it's been put through. My legs are begging to give out from beneath me. I lean against the workbench to assist with my balance while I remove my work shirt, leaving me in nothing but my tank top and bra, which are still situated underneath my boobs. Using the shirt, I wipe his wretched cum from my skin and drop my shirt to the floor, next to my ripped underwear, to dispose of later. I pull my pants back into place and fasten them closed.

  I'm still in a daze as I make my way over to the small bathroom in the corner of the storeroom. I wet a bunch of paper towels and use some of the soap to wipe my chest off. I want the feel of him, the smell of him, gone. I rub my skin until it's bright red and burning. When I exit the bathroom, I see my purse laying on the floor across the room. I limp over to it and pull my phone from inside. I contemplate calling my mom for a ride but decide against it. I would rather walk home than deal with her seeing me like this. I can't even handl
e the thought of going home right now.

  Suddenly, Chelsea and Bash pop back into my mind. I wonder where they are? Bash lives in our grandfather's old house. A tiny, two-bedroom that he inherited when gramps passed away. Even if Chelsea isn't there, he should be around. It's only about a twenty-minute walk from here. I shouldn’t go. If she’s there, God only knows what they will be up to. My head is at war with itself for what seems like forever. In the end, I know I can't go home. My mom will start asking questions that she won't want the answers to. Questions that I don't want to answer for her anyway. Not only do I not have the words, but she is the last person who I would ever want to talk to about this. I need to be around someone that I can relate to.

  Bash's house it is. I know what I might find when I get there. I need to figure out if I'm going to accept it and open myself up to them, or run from it and live life by myself, in the dark, forever.

  Chapter 4

  Sebastian

  I still can’t get over what happened the other day at Brianna’s party. I didn’t want her to find out, but especially not like that. I’d be lying if I said that the disgusted look on her face didn’t cut us both deeply. Chelsea and I were shocked and surprised when our feelings for one another first manifested. It started with a forbidden kiss that we both agreed was wrong and should never have happened.

  When I left her house, I had every intention of staying away from her. But the more days that passed the heavier my heart grew; the more pain I felt in my soul. I needed her. I craved her. I didn't want to go to her, though. I knew that she didn't feel the same, and I would never put her in a position that she didn't choose to be in or that would make her see me as she sees Uncle Jack.

  A few days later, she showed up on my doorstep in tears and a fresh scar on her wrist. I knew then that she'd had the same shitty, dark days following our kiss that I did. She begged me to hold her; to touch her as he touched her; to replace her memories of him with memories of us. When our bodies collided, it was all over. We were shattered after what he did to us. As soon as we were together again, it was as if our broken souls had been pieced together with the other’s; like a patchwork quilt. There is nothing that will be able to break us ever again.

  “I want to leave here. I don’t want to love you in the dark anymore. I want to go somewhere where nobody knows us and where we don’t have to hide,” Chelsea says to me, her eyes flooded with unshed tears.

  I look into her eyes from my position on top of her and lean down for a kiss.

  “We will, eventually. We have to make sure Brianna is okay. I don’t feel right leaving her here.”

  "I know. I keep searching for something that I can say to her; I hate the way she looked at us the other day."

  “It hurt, but I try to remind myself of how wrong we felt at the beginning,” I run my hand down her neck as my tongue dips out and traces her nipple. “But now, it feels so right.”

  “Mmm, soooo right,” she moans as my mouth closes over her nipple and I start sucking on it as if it were the sweetest lollipop I’ve ever had.

  Just as I begin my descent on her body, I hear a knock on my apartment door.

  “Don’t answer it, stay here with me,” Chelsea pleads.

  "Let me make sure it's not important. I don't get too many visitors."

  I place a kiss to the space between her breasts before hopping off of the bed. Quickly throwing on a pair of shorts, I make my way to the front door. When I look through the peep-hole, the last person I expect to see is standing on the other side. Even through the tiny circle of glass in my door, I can see the tears streaming down her face, the red mark around her neck, and her disheveled hair. I unlock the door quickly and throw it open.

  “Brianna? What happened?”

  As I speak, anger boils within me. I know what happened to her. She leans against the door frame and clutches her stomach. Her legs give out, and she slowly drops to the floor. I sit beside her and pull her in close to me.

  “Brianna? Oh my God…” Chelsea must have heard me from the bedroom. She stands in the living room and bites her lower lip, the way she does every time she’s scared or nervous. I pick Brianna up off of the ground and carry her over to the sofa. Chelsea sits on the other side of us and puts her arm around her.

  “I’m sorry,” Brianna sobs. “I didn’t know where else to go. I couldn’t go home and let my mom see me like this.”

  “Where were you?” I ask.

  "At work. It was my night to close. He must have slipped in when I was in the storeroom and hid until everyone was gone. Then he attacked me when I was getting ready to leave. I tried to stop him! I tried to punch and kick him, but he was too big! He was too strong!"

  Gradually, her tears turn into wails, which turn into screaming until she is hysterical.

  “Go get her some of your wine. It will help calm her,” I suggest to Chelsea.

  As she leaves the room, Brianna turns toward me and starts beating on my chest.

  “Why didn’t you guys tell me!? For twelve fucking years, I've had to deal with this on my own!"

  She continues to beat on me, but her blows are becoming less intense each time she connects with my chest. The only thing that I can do is hold her tight and not let her go. Chelsea comes back in with a small glass of wine and sets it down on the table. She joins us on the sofa once more and rubs Brianna's back to try and soothe her.

  “Brianna, we…” I start, but I have no idea what to say.

  "We only found out that he did this to both of us two years ago. We wondered if he was doing the same to you, but we were scared to ask." Chelsea chimes in. "We were both stuck in our own minds before then. We didn't think about who else he may have been doing this to. I thought I was the only one."

  “Same here,” I add.

  “It hurts, so fucking much,” Brianna sobs.

  I go from feeling heartbroken for her, for all of us, to enraged. Shooting up from the sofa, I return to my bedroom and throw on a shirt and some socks. I grab my shoes, and as I re-enter the living room fully clothed, I meet two of the most somber faces I've ever seen.

  “Where are you going?” Chelsea asks me.

  Instead of answering her, I look down and put my shoes on.

  “Bash?” she asks, tears falling down her face now, too. “You’re not going over there!”

  “Keep an eye on her. I’ll be back soon.”

  Chelsea leaves Brianna on the sofa where she sits, wrapped up in her arms.

  “I won’t let you go! You remember what happened last time.”

  The last time I tried to confront him, he beat me so bad, I nearly ended up in the hospital. I should have gone, but I called Chelsea instead, and she helped me home. She took care of me until I was better and then threatened to beat the shit out of me if I ever tried to do anything like that again.

  “Please, Bash! Please don’t go!” she begs, hot tears flooding her terrified stare.

  “Chelsea, I am so done with this fucking shit. He can’t get away with it again. I didn’t fight back when he did it to me. I failed when it happened to you. I won’t fail again. This ends tonight!”

  “No!”

  “Stop!”

  They scream at the same time. Chelsea and I turn and look at Brianna, who is rocking back and forth on the sofa. She has her hands covering her ears, and hot tears are burning streaks into the beautiful skin on her cheeks.

  Shit.

  Chelsea sits down again and pulls Brianna into her side.

  “Shh, Bri. It’s okay. You’re going to be all right. I promise. It’s going to hurt like hell, but you’re not alone anymore. You have us,” Chelsea reassures her.

  I sit back down on the sofa and look over at them. They’re sad, beaten-down, broken, beautiful. I've always had a soft spot for our youngest cousin, but now more than ever, I feel drawn to her. The only thing I can think about right now is the urge to keep both of them with me forever; to make both of them mine. It's sick and twisted and depraved, but I don't care. I
am going to save them because they deserve more than this. More than what this town can give them; more than what our family has done for them. And a hell of a lot more than what that sick son-of-a-bitch has put them through. I might not be able to do anything about it tonight, maybe not next week or next month even, but I am going to kill him. There’s no question about that.

  “Thank you,” Chelsea mouths to me over Brianna’s head.

  “Here Bri, have some of this. It will help,” I lift the glass of wine and place it in her hand. She doesn’t even think twice and swallows it all in one gulp.

  “Let’s go lay down, Bri. I have some extra clothes for you to sleep in,” Chelsea says to her.

  She helps her stand and walks her into my bedroom.

  “Are you coming?” Chelsea turns and asks.

  I want to go with them more than I’ve wanted anything else before. But Brianna isn’t ready for that. Shit, she may never be. I’m hoping that it’s going to go the same way it did with Chelsea, but that may not be the case at all. No, I’ll keep my distance for now. Maybe forever, if that’s what she wants.

  “I think I better stay here,” I answer her.

  She leans forward, and I reach out for her, kissing her passionately. Emotions are running high, and I want to hold her and never let go. But Brianna needs her more than I do tonight.

  When we break the kiss, I notice that Brianna is staring at us. I look at her without faltering. I refuse to feel like what I am doing is wrong, especially in my own house. But she isn’t looking at us like she did the other day. Her face is expressionless. I offer her a slight smile to see if I can get a reaction, but I get nothing.

  “Goodnight, girls,” I say to them both.

  Chapter 5

  Brianna

  The shining sun glares through the gap in the curtains, waking me up. As if opening my eyes was the signal for the rest of my body to awaken, painful aching overcomes me. I hurt everywhere; every last inch of my body feels like it’s been pulverized. It feels like even my hair is in pain.