A Long Journey To My Brother

The pain was otherworldly. Brian had reached around and grabbed my deflated penis, yanking it towards him when I tried to escape, and I felt it stretch and distend before moving back in his direction. My five foot three inch frame was no match for Brian's raw power, his large arms seizing my body and throwing me back down to the floor, where I landed between him and Cassie, drunk and overmatched. Roughly spun around, I found myself facing Cassie's crotch, an inviting target only seconds earlier. Now it was a different atmosphere and I wanted no part of it. Cassie grabbed my hair again, clawing my neck and face in the process.

"Get back here, bitch! We've only just begun. You're going to pleasure us and show how a freak really gets it done."

I felt Brian move directly behind me, splitting my legs with his own and pulling my hips so they lined up with his groin. I realized where this was going, and feeling his hard penis brush against my bare ass confirmed it. I was going to be used. Cassie slapped my face to gain my attention.

"You see, Taylor, I've got a little problem. My boyfriend is great in the sack but he wants to try out my ass. And well, I don't do that. Especially since he's a little big. But he's persistent. So I figured since you've only got one hole back there, you've probably taken it a few times. And since you said you'd do anything to keep your secret, I figured this qualifies as anything. Now open that pucker up, because Brian's going to try it out."

As I felt him inch closer behind me, I moved my hips about since I figured the Neanderthal wouldn't be able to hit a moving target. Yet the moment his fist made high-speed contact with my testicles, my body halted. All I could do was squeal and cry. That was immediately muffled as my face was pulled back into Cassie's crotch. She also tightened her grip on my hair.

"Bitch, if you bite me, I'll get him to shove a baseball bat up your ass until he can't read the label. I might as well get some pleasure out of this too. C'mon freak! Get to lickin'! Brian, are you covered up? I don't want you to pick anything up from this whore's skanky ass."

Brian let out a disappointed sigh, got up, walked out of the living room and down the hall. He returned shortly, apparently wearing a condom as his one remaining bit of humanity, though I'd hardly call it a benevolent act. Within moments, he'd resumed his position and grabbed my hips, quickly moving his hands to my ass cheeks. Brian spread them apart and moved in for the kill, via impaling.

My face had been pressed into Cassie's pussy during this interlude. Amazingly, she was wetter than ever. She actually got off on this sick moment. I was repulsed, and nearly threw up in her cunt. Only the thought of the baseball bat kept the vomit away. Cassie shook my head until I started to lick and revelled in her cruelty.

My memories are cloudy, but I know the essentials of what happened. Brian slammed into me with little lube (a small gob of spit) and no warning. He was large, larger than anyone I'd taken before, and I screamed into a swampy vagina. Cassie laughed, and ordered me to keep my tongue moving. My movements were mild compared to Brian sawing in and out of my ass. The pain was beyond belief, and I wondered if I would survive. Within minutes, I began to see spots.

The pummelling continued for an uncertain amount of time. Under different circumstances and agreed consent, it could have been an incredibly erotic moment. However, this was anything but erotic, at least for me. What those two sick fucks were getting out of it was something I didn't wish to contemplate. I just knew that my awareness faded in and out. Their grunts, moans and laughter were the soundtrack to my falling consciousness, and I inwardly begged for the relief of oblivion. It felt like the only way out.

I'm not sure how much later I awoke, naked on the floor, my head, body and soul hurting everywhere. I could hear Cassie and Brian down the hall, laughing and kissing loudly, revelling in their disgusting conquest. Getting away was paramount.

I somehow found the strength to rise, locate my clothing, get dressed, and make it to the door. I didn't know the location of my purse, but that was an acceptable sacrifice in order to escape. I quietly turned the door knob and staggered into the night, where it took two hours to return to the dorm. I had nowhere else to go.

Cassie waltzed into our room without a care in the world. Flinging my purse onto my bed, she strolled around the room looking through my things as if she owned them.

"You forgot this last night. Hope you had fun, I know we did."

I was torn between rage about what she did to me, and terror at what she could do next. Worse still was Cassie's aura of power, as she clearly felt that I was little more than a bug under her shoe and that I was powerless to do anything about it. But worst of all, I knew she was right.

"So I'm going to be moving in with Brian. Dorm life bores me. But just so you know, I'll be hanging onto my key until the exams are over. Never know when I'll wanna pop in and check on you. Who knows? Maybe Brian and I will stop in some quiet night for a little visit."

My voice stayed silenced, and Cassie knew how terrified I was. I couldn't move off my bed, I could barely breathe. Soon she stood over me.

"By the way, if you ever feel like talking about our little adventure the other night, do know that I'll start talking too. And I know lots of people around here. Remember that."

I wouldn't let her see me cry, but my leg began to shake. Life sucked.

"See ya, Taylor. It's been memorable."

"Hey freak! I hear ya got a little something I could use if my boyfriend stops putting out. Of course, I hear it's really little!"

The pounding on my door was horrible, but the laughter was worse. It had been going on for two days, though it felt like two years. Cassie had blabbed. Or maybe Brian. Whoever it was, their news had spread like wildfire and my end of the hall was now besieged with trolls, catcalls and threats. Some pushed written messages under the door. I was terrified, and would have gone back to Michigan if I didn't feel that Mom would have a worse response.

Staying in the dorm beyond the Christmas break was impossible, but there were many obstacles to finding my own place, money chief among them. I had paid a full year's deposit for the dorm room and had little chance of getting a term's worth back. Even with that cash, I couldn't afford an apartment on my own, but I couldn't afford a roommate even more. It all felt so closed in. I needed to talk to somebody.

The door was banged upon again, with snickers and glinting teeth hiding behind it.

"Jacob?"

I stood in a remote phone booth on a cold desert night. It was late, but that was the only time I could get out of the dorm safely. I'd had to call collect, but fortunately my brother answered the phone.

"Cassie? What's wrong?" He knew something was amiss if I was calling at such an hour.

"They found out. The people at school, they found out about me."

"You mean-?"

"Yes. I'm scared. It's awful. I can't stay here."

"You mean at school?"

"I don't know. I don't want to come back home, but I can't stay in the dorm. Everybody knows where I am."

"Can't you get a place? On your own?"

"I don't have the finances for that. With a roommate maybe, but I can't do that again."

"Was it your dorm roommate who found out?" He would never admit it, but Jacob knew how to read between the lines. I couldn't stop the tears.

"Yes. I don't know what to do."

Jacob taking charge was a rare moment indeed, so I knew it mattered to him when he did. I felt special to him.

"First off, your roommate. Is she still around?"

"Not really. She moved in with her boyfriend."

"Good. Stay away from her, don't ever talk to her again."

"Okay." I wasn't going to tell him all of the reasons why I wanted to avoid her.

"Next, don't go out during the day. You'd be a visible target. If possible, do your stuff at night. Too many people out during the day, and daylight won't stop them from attacking you."

The certainty in his voice told me that he'd seen enough assaults to know. Jacob moved on.

"The one exception is when you're looking for a new place. Find an apartment, a decent place, away from school. We can always transport you there."

"What? I told you I don't have the money."

"You said you'd be able to if you had a roommate, right?"

"Jacob, there's nobody around here I can trust to live with."

"Doesn't have to be. Your roommate won't be from around there."

Once again, my brother was muddling my thought process. I had no idea who he was talking about.

"What? I don't understand."

"I'm coming down, Taylor. I'll be your roommate."

I missed an exam, causing me to flunk a course, but there was no way I could be in a gymnasium with hundreds of other students, all things considered. My door was still a target for the next week and I wasn't going to compromise my safety any further. It was a sacrifice, but one I could live with.

Missing the exam did have a silver lining as I could then go to student counselling and show that I was still having difficulty adjusting to school, which would help make my refund case with the university. Telling them my troubles stemmed from concern for my brother, considering his state of mind after spending five years in assorted war zones, was a little white lie that I could live with. It was paramount that I get out of that dorm.

Jacob was actually a bit of a puzzle floating through my mind. I'd learned not to dwell too much on his motivations over the years, confusing as they could be, but I couldn't help but wonder why he would suddenly pick up and move down to Arizona. I didn't doubt his desire to protect me, but it wasn't until I considered his situation that things became more clear. Jacob had spent the last three months sitting back home, dealing with our mother on a daily basis, and was probably unsure how to get away from her. I didn't know what he'd been doing in Michigan, as he wasn't one to reveal much of his own life, but moving to Tucson would make for a good way to escape. Not only that, but he was moving towards something, not just away from a bad situation. I took comfort in that realization.

It wasn't easy finding a suitable and reasonably priced apartment during Christmas season, but I somehow managed. As soon as I told the landlord that my brother had just finished a five year military stint, everything flowed smoothly. The small building was a fair distance from the university, but Jacob had said he didn't mind driving me and it would be wise to create some distance from the campus and its social scene. Though my brother was only slightly more communicative over the phone than his high school days, I was looking forward to having him around. He was somebody I felt at ease with, the landlord wouldn't hassle us due to Jacob's military background, and best of all, if Jacob saw my cock, it wouldn't be a big deal. Not that I was one to run around the apartment naked, but if a towel flapped open or some other whoops moment occurred, it wouldn't be a big deal. Jacob just didn't seem to care.

He'd been that way for much of our lives. As kids, Jacob would mildly tease me about my penis from time to time, but once he realized how much that bothered me, the teasing stopped. As far as he was concerned, I just became his annoying little sister. It was the kind of normalcy that I craved in a relationship.

Once Cassie had turned in her key before the Christmas break, I could at last find some solace behind my locked dorm room door, giving me time to lick my wounds, both physical and emotional. My butthole was still tender, but at least no permanent damage had occurred. My cock was also healing, along with the scratches around my body, but I knew my emotional scars would take far longer. I knew it would be a long, long time before I dared to be sexual with anyone again.

The remainder of December was relatively peaceful. Although there was still the occasional knock at the door, quickly followed by some derogatory comment and snickers of laughter, my end of the dorm became quieter as more students finished their finals and left for home. I timed my excursions to occur at night when there were far fewer people about. I made my grocery trips at night, got what little exercise I could at night, and even made most of my bathroom trips at night. It wasn't quite bliss, but at least I was safe for the time being.

Thankfully, the landlord let me move in to my new place on the 29^th, which would allow Jacob to arrive before the New Year. And after I informed the university that my recently discharged brother would be moving down to share an apartment and help further my adjustment (it's amazing what playing the Military card can get you), the school refunded my second term's dorm deposit. Things were looking up for 1996.

Jacob arrived on New Year's Eve day. I buzzed him in and went to the third floor hallway in order to meet him. When my brother's dark mop of hair came into view as he slowly ambled down the hall, it was the best I'd felt in months. Of course, he wasn't going to move quickly with all the liquor he carried. Jacob was prepared for the evening.

"Drove two thousand miles to bring me booze?"

"Good thing they have liquor stores here. Wasn't gonna drive all the way back for a drink."

His dry wit made it difficult to tell when he was joking, but I didn't care. I launched my body at him in a desperate embrace.

"Geez, you're heavier."

"Shut up. Like you're one to talk." He'd added a few pounds since I last saw him, but still retained some decent fitness. I reluctantly unwrapped my arms from his body.

"Is this all you brought?"

"How much of their inventory do you think I have?"

"Stop being dumb. I mean didn't you bring any clothes or stuff?"

"Yeah, it's in the truck."

We retreated to the apartment, Jacob quiet and me letting him be so. I knew that giving him space and silence was necessary to make him comfortable. He peered around like a dog in a new home, quickly determining which bedroom was his. Thirty minutes and several trips to the truck later, Jacob was moved in and I had the only roommate I would ever need. We opened the first bottles to give thanks for our relief. I was still leery about downing more than one, but Jacob made up for me. I knew I was healing because his coming drunkenness didn't scare me. He was still my brother.

It took all of two weeks for the whoops moment. I was in the shower when Jacob poked his head into the bathroom (the frosted shower door prevented any cheap views) to tell me he was going to the liquor store. I thanked him and mindlessly turned back to the hot water. Time melted away, and I enjoyed the water's stinging tingle. Following an indeterminate time, I turned off the tap and stepped out into the bathroom. After towel-wrapping my hair, I decided to dry the rest of my body in my bedroom. Since I had the place to myself, I knew there was no need to cover my form, and stepped nude into the short hallway.

It was an eternal two seconds. Jacob stood ten feet away, pulling his keys from his pocket, dressed to go out. His face was impassive, in spite of having a perfect view of my wet body, and his eyes never moved away. I'm sure he even took a brief glance down to my crotch. My face must have registered as deer-in-the-headlights, with both my feet and arms frozen in place. I was glistening naked in front of my brother.

"Sorry."

"No problem."

My bedroom door shut behind me after I'd found the strength to flee. I waited until I heard Jacob leave before breathing again. My chest heaved with deep gasps, my legs trembled, and my skin flushed as I regained my wits. It had been a near carbon copy of the Cassie incident, a memory that left me a quivering wreck. Then I remembered.

Jacob was not Cassie. He'd known about my dick for as long as I could remember. He certainly wasn't going to blab about it. He didn't really even care about it. Jacob had proven that to me over the years, and there was no reason to believe it was any different now. So why had he looked?

To be fair, I don't think he'd seen me uncovered since we were little kids. Naturally, some part of him would have been curious. I was a naked young woman (albeit with a penis) standing in front of him. It would have been odd if he hadn't looked. These thoughts calmed me as I towelled dry and got dressed. Nothing really needed to have changed.

Even if some small part of my subconscious hoped it had.

It quickly became apparent why Jacob was always going to the liquor store. He drank like a fish, though rarely to the point of obvious drunkenness. He was more the sort who kept a steady yet manageable buzz throughout the day. It was actually impressive in a way. Jacob could function at 10 PM even after downing two flats of beer over the course of the day, or some other alcoholic equivalent. I would have been on my way to the hospital. My brother simply moved along at his slow but steady pace. I had no idea how he did it. Though sadly, over time, I learned why.

Jacob had spent five years travelling from one horrific nightmare to another. From dead body detail during the first Iraq war, to dealing with a million villainous sides in the Yugosalv wars, to being in Rwanda when half the country was using machetes to hack the other half to death, to returning to Bosnia in time for that war's most horrific atrocities, all while handcuffed by the U.N. Peacekeeper rules, my brother was left haunted by a cavalcade of Nineties barbarity. Whether waking me up with his night terror screams, or sporadically letting me see the reasons for his disquiet, Jacob slowly revealed how damaged he had become. Not even 24, Jacob was a shell of his former shell.

When not driving me to school, work, or wherever else I needed to be (in hindsight, that was obviously an unwise move), Jacob spent most of his time laying in bed, watching TV and maintaining his perpetual inebriation. His military pension had kicked in early, having something to do with his UN duties, so there was no need to find a job, not that he was in much condition to work. He did the minimum to maintain a working roommate relationship, and never left me in a bad spot, but he had no desire to move forward at that point in time. Jacob simply spent his days keeping the darkness at bay.

At least he let me join him for some TV programs. Jacob watched certain shows, but if I had something I wished to see (his TV was the only one in the apartment), he would acquiesce to my desire, hand over the remote, and share his bed with me. Friday night was a regular "date", as I had found myself addicted to the era's hottest (or at least buzziest) show on television, The X-Files. Although I'm sure the show's subject matter didn't help Jacob's overall mindset, he would follow along as the weekly torrent of frightening images both thrilled and scared me. It was probably as normal as we ever got.

It was an early February evening when I flopped onto Jacob's bed and punched up my favourite entertainment. That week's episode leaned more towards psychological thriller than the usual X-Files offering, following an unknown killer who hid the bodies inside gargoyle statues, but it was gripping nonetheless, and I soon found my usual anxious excitement rising. By the midway point, my head had sunk to Jacob's chest with my right hand on his shirt-covered stomach. His presence was comforting.

Jacob didn't mind. Though hardly a touchy-feeley guy, my brother would allow me a degree of physical contact that was more than anyone else got. It made me feel special, and I knew that keeping it occasional allowed me regular access to him. Nobody else could be so close.