Non-sexual, fucked-up, disturbing. Proceed with caution, and an open mind.
First of all, I want you to know that by the time you read this email, so much has happened that none of it matter anymore since I am no longer in the same situation as I am about to recount for all you will allow to access this. I couldn’t blame you if you find any of this too unbelievable to be true, therefore treated this like ‘any other story’. I just needed to get this out.
Now, let me begin.
Take a look out of your window and you will see a flourishing society with minimal crime rate. A well established political-juridical system where everyone is given equal opportunities to shine and grow. Even the lowest income families here aren’t exactly living in third world conditions. Beyond all you can see, in a certain corner of this beautiful garden city, histories have been made in few unlucky individuals that took their hopes and dreams away, one of them being myself, though I considered myself lucky to have been shown the brighter side not too late into my future.
The memories between the time I was born and when I turned 10 were a little sketchy, but there were things I will always remember being there since I started knocking into them, until I left that dreadful place a few years ago. In that tiny two-room flat, my sister, just two years older than me, was almost everyone I knew, besides that strange visitor who would wait outside every few days to see her for a few hours.
That traumatic scent of wood furniture, dull colours of the cabinets, yellowed surface of anything white, that was what I grew up with. It wasn’t until I was twelve that a man moved in with us, and he threw out enough of my favourite toys to make room for his own bed in the smaller room.
Of all the ‘improvements’ he made, the only thing that my sister begged him to install was a door to separate the two rooms, which he gave no fucks about her concerns. While I managed to sleep through as many nights as I could remember, there were some, when I was awakened by noises made on his bed, with my sister.
Yes, you guessed right. He was fucking my sister just five feet away from where I slept. The orange lamp next to the window, provided enough light for me to catch every small details of their trysts, that often looked so ‘fun’ and ‘enjoyable’ until my sister cried herself to sleep in my bed after each time.
That confusing sex mostly occurred in the evenings, at times happening three times before I went to bed. In the day, my sister would teach me as much as she learnt from books and him, making me do homework I detest to the core. How would I have understood the good of having an education?
A year after he moved in, on my thirteenth birthday, I was awakened from my sleep and brought to his bed, where my sister had covered her face with a pillow, and legs were spread wide apart without anything on.
‘Go and take a look between her legs.’
Knowing his (bad) temper well, I crawled towards my sister’s vagina and took a close look, before he picked my hand up to place it on her.
‘Make her wet.’
‘No. Just touch her here.’
He pushed my index finger against her clit and I saw her thighs twitched instantly. Repeating those circular motions he guided my finger to make, I saw her glimmering wetness form on the pinkish raw flesh I was getting more curious about. That hardness in my pants, had appeared once too many times for me to figure out why that happened.
‘Ger, go touch your brother.’
‘Huh?! Can I don’t?’
He positioned me on the part of the bed she laid earlier and made me spread my legs, so she could sit between and.. and put her fingers around it. For the first time in my life, an immediate sense of relief took away all the pent up frustrations in my mind. That ‘something’ on my mind which I couldn’t figure out came loose at once, as if pleasure, was all it took.
The faster she moved her hand up and down, the better I would feel. So much better that I began moaning to the smiles of the man, whispering softly into her ears from time to time. Before I realised, my sister’s mouth had gone over my dick and was up and down my shaft, satisfying me so much that I didn’t want that to end.
He went behind her bare butt and unzipped his pants out of my sight, then doing something that made her moan as loud as I did, while having my cock in her mouth. The faster he thrusted his body at her, the deeper and harder she would suck. Somewhere during that ‘orientation’ sex I got, the briefly glance at her tears-covered face suddenly caused an ache in my heart.
‘Mister.. she’s crying. I don’t want to do this anymore.’
‘You can go only when she stops.’
‘Stop Jie. Stop.’
I didn’t understand why she didn’t stop at first, but a smile from her actually took some guilt away. I was too naive to know what I was doing to her then, and it didn’t seem like he would explain it to me either. Being my first time, it took her ten minutes to get me spraying my virgin load into her mouth, thereafter I became too exhausted to move.
After that ‘birthday’, she spent more time than ever with me. Telling me about why doing it with her (or me) is counted as ‘incest’ and wrong. Simply knowing that wasn’t enough though. He still had the final say and my sister and I ended up having sex till she was 18.
From the moment we started getting intimate, she no longer cried herself to sleep, but instead, hugged me till we fell asleep. On an unspoken part, perhaps I was looked upon as a ‘man’, having had sex before. I understood my place better, I was her pillar in that fucked up household.
When she turned 19, and I turned 17, a young woman moved in with us and we were told to address her as ‘mum’. Of course, it didn’t sit well with me and my sister and I moved out with the help of one of our neighbours, who put us up in another of his house until both of us found our own accommodations.
This incident has never been reported to the authorities. The knowledge I got from reading and my sister had easily put me through GCE, even entering a poly to do a diploma I had passion in.
As of date, I don’t know where my sister is, or what happened to that man and ‘mum’, but I am living a stable life, with a job and a house that eerily resemble my old nightmare.