Prejudice

"And he was my brother, my flesh and blood. I had always felt guilty for fantasising about him, to actually enjoy his finger inside me, be turned on by it. It was too much. Especially while he told me that story. I felt like puking, but my pussy felt like fucking. I can't describe that feeling.

"But what I felt didn't seem to matter anyway, 'cause John kept ignoring my pleas.

" 'He finger-fucked me in the ass, Molly,' he said, 'not civil like this though. No. His finger moved in circles, here and there, pushing my ring more open. Can you guess why, Molly?'

" 'Please stop now, John,' I pleaded, but he ignored me.

" 'He was loosening my ring, so he could fuck me in the ass without breaking something. Guess shit is ok to guys like that, but blood isn't. Or what do you think, Molly?'

" 'If you don't stop, I will scream, the neighbours will hear, and come to my aid,' I threatened, hoping to bring him to reason.

" 'Will you really, Molly?' he asked, and pushed a second finger in with the first before continuing the finger-fucking and the talking.

" 'Do you really want the neighbours to come running in here, and find me with your horny pussy juices dripping over my fingers. Do you really want the friendly neighbours to know that you are horny for your brother?'

"John understood what it meant to be shamed in public, I guess. After all he was the only gay gay-basher in our town. Of course I can't know how sure he was that I wouldn't scream for help, yet he sounded very confident, speaking with that hoarse angry voice.

"I didn't scream for help, instead I hid my face between the bed and one of my tied arms, hoping for the nightmare to end. Wishing that I didn't feel so fucking horny. Wishing I had never fantasised about him.

" 'I'm not gay, Molly. I'm so fucking straight that even my own sister's wet pussy turns me on. I know you've become a slut since I left, I know your pussy has been visited by even more cocks, than my cock has pussies. But it's still a fucking fine pussy you got. Pink and fresh and swollen. You really are horny aren't you, Molly?'

"I didn't reply, I just hid below my arm, trying to deny reality. He kept finger fucking me, slower now, I got the impression he was watching his finger sliding in and out of me. Suddenly he got off the bed, I could hear him undressing. I wanted to beg him not to fuck me, I was terrified of feeling my brother's cock inside me. Terrified that I would enjoy it.

"He kneeled behind me, preparing for doggy-style.

" 'After spending a long time loosening and lubing my asshole, the ass-probing guy raped me in the ass. Do you know how it feels to be ass-fucked, Molly?'

"It was a rhetorical question. I knew how it felt to be ass-fucked, but he didn't give me time to reply. Not that I would have replied if given the time.

" 'It hurts like hell, Molly. Being fucked in the ass hurts like hell.' "

Molly paused her story to sip her monster drink.

"That's when I realised he had been telling the truth all along. He really had been raped, he really wasn't gay. If he had been practising gay sex, he would have known by then that anal doesn't have to hurt. Heck anal wasn't one of my favourites, and I knew.

" 'He raped me in the ass, Molly. I, however, don't like shit on my cock, so I will rapeyou in your sweet wet pussy.'

"So he did. He pushed his cock into me and started pounding away. Just as his speed started becoming truly frantic, and I thought he was about to come, he stopped. Staying absolutely still, with his hips pressed against my ass, and his cock inside me, he started explaining how his rapist had sounded while raping him.

"After a while he shut up again, and resumed ramming my pussy. He was holding my hips with his hands, I felt his palms sweating up against my skin. Worse than that, I felt my pussy burning with lust for the pounding it was getting. My brother was raping me, yet I was still wet, wetter than ever. More ashamed than ever before, I kept hiding my face under my arm.

"The next time I thought he was about to come, he stopped again, and told me other details from my rape, just to resume the fucking moments later. The third time he did it, I realised he did it on purpose. He was prolonging the fucking by turning himself off every time he was on the edge. Turning himself off by thinking of the worst thing that ever happened to him.

"I started fearing he would keep it up forever, or at least until our parents and siblings came home. I started imagining being found by them all. Me tied down and horny, with my brothers cock ramming my pussy. The image was horrifying, shameful, somehow that added horror triggered my pussy further.

"I felt myself nearing orgasm on my brothers next long fucking stretch, but that I managed to fight off. I don't usually come easily in doggy-style without clit-stimulation. A few more times, I got close, but I managed to stop each time. Being raped by my brother was bad, coming during such a rape seemed an even worse 'bad'.

"Finally, when my pussy was beginning to get sore, he lost control and shot his load into me. I felt his cock beating while his load shot into me, I felt his hands clenching my hips so hard, I was sure I would bruise. And I heard him groan. He sounded like a dying man, he collapsed upon me as if he really had died.

"He hadn't of course."

Molly got out of her chair again, to make herself a drink, one less nauseating than the half-full monster still left on the table.

"That must have been really horrible, Molly," Dave said, "Keeping it to yourself all these years, must have been terrible too."

"It didn't end there, Dave," Molly said, mixing Southern Comfort with Sprite, a sweet drink to wash away the bitterness.

"I'm sorry, Molly," Dave said, not specifying if he meant for interrupting, or for what had happened to her. In reality he meant for both, "Continue when you feel ready."

"Don't worry, I will. I went this far, I'd continue even if you both held your ears and begged me to stop."

Sipping her sweet drink, she walked back to her chair again, and seated herself yet again.

"After regaining his breath, he pulled his already flaccid cock out of me. I still kept my face hidden, so couldn't see what he was doing. From the sounds, I figured out that he had picked up my discarded towel, and was wiping his cock clean of my juices and his own cum. He didn't wipe me clean though.

" 'Can you guess, what happened next, Molly?' he asked.

"I was horrified, he had fucked me to a sore pussy, really thoroughly fucked me like even I had never been fucked before. And yet he continued the narrating. Convinced that further narrating meant further abuse, I remained absolutely still - frozen yet again - pretending I wasn't there. Pretending this wasn't happening to me.

"I could her him rummaging, as if he was looking for something. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out what he was looking for. He found it though, and dumped it on the bed, close to me.

" 'Maybe even a slut like you, isn't depraved enough to guess what happened next,' he said, just before rolling me onto my back. He grabbed one of my upper thighs and raised that one of my legs. A moment later I realised what he had been looking for, and had found. It was my childhood's skipping ropes.

" 'They flipped me over on my back, and tied my legs up. Like I am doing to you right now, Molly,' he explained. Once again, I started pleading with him, I sobbed and begged. All for nothing, John never was big on mercy, it just wasn't in him to change a course of action over begging.

"While I pleaded hopelessly, he wrapped skipping ropes around my upper thigh, just above my knee, and he tightened the rope around my bed's wall-board. He did the same with my other leg. By my arms I pulled myself closer to the wall, to loose the ropes, so I could gather my legs some."

Molly stopped talking, took a giant gulp of her monster drink, and washed the taste away with the sweet drink.

'I wish she would be less detailed,'Brian thought, but didn't speak it, 'I wish I couldn't see the whole thing behind my eyes. Poor Molly.'

"But he didn't allow me my closed legs. He took more skipping ropes. I had a bloody whole lot of them, skipping ropes was a real big deal to me when I was small. He mercilessly spread my legs again by tying other skipping ropes to the first and tightening the new ropes to the ends of my bed.

"While he did it, I stared at his eyes. There was a coldness in them, freezing me, but also burning me. Ever since I fell in love with him when we were just kids, his eyes had always had a special magic for me.

" 'Where do you keep your lube, Molly?' he asked. I didn't reply, of course I didn't. At first at least. Until he spoke again at least.

" 'Do you really want me to do a thing that should require lube, without lube, Molly? I know you have lube, sluts always do. I know my way around sluts, Molly.'

"I really didn't want him to do a thing that would normally require lube, without lube. So I told him. Following my instructions, he opened the correct drawer, retrieved the lube, and closed the drawer. But then..."

This time Molly needed to repeat her double drink routine twice, to muster the courage to continue.

"He opened the drawer below the first, and looked inside, and then he pulled out the shirt I always placed on top of what I was hiding there.

" 'I told you, I know my way around sluts, Molly. Your type always keeps toys around. Just in case of lousy fucks, right?' It was true, lousy fucks and lonely nights. I had my own little joy toy collection. Still do by the way." In spite of her grim memories Molly grinned, she was starting to get tipsy.

"I expected him to pick my biggest dildo, to ram my pussy further." Another round of double drink sips, and Molly was ready to continue. "He chose a small vibrator, not dildo-material, only suitable for clit stimulation. Or sore shoulder muscles!" Molly laughed, a shrill kind of hysterical laugh. "At least that's what the declaration on the package claims, when you buy one."

She downed the rest of her sweet drink, and rose to make a new one. She continued narrating, while mixing a second Southern Comfort and Sprite.

" 'A man has something which a woman doesn't, Molly.'

"My eyes shot to his cock. Obviously. But that wasn't what he was referring to, as if he had read my mind he explained that. Well he didn't need to read my mind did he, he could see what I was staring at.

" 'I wasn't talking about the penis and vagina thing. You wouldn't need to be a slut to know about that, would you, Molly? I was talking about the prostate, men has it, women don't.'

"I was a slut, but actually, I hadn't yet learned of the prostate. I know, it's weird, but guys don't like to talk about their prostate with young sluts. Nowadays I frequently meet men who won't shut up about their prostates. Well, John knew about his prostrate. Obviously. It wasn't the best way he learned about it either.

"Sorry guys, getting a bit ahead of myself there, alcohol speaking.

" 'When I was tied in place, somewhat similar to how you are now, he put just one single finger into my sore ass,' John said, and lubed one of his own fingers. Once well lubed he pushed it into MY ass, and wiggled it.

" 'With that finger, he tickled my prostate. I wasn't horny, I was angry, I was in pain. I felt like killing every single one of them.' While listing his emotions during that phase ofhis rape, John kept wiggling the tip of his finger inside me, as if looking for something in there.

" 'You don't have a prostate, Molly. So once again, we will have to improvise. I will try to demonstrate how they managed to make that cum shot picture of me - which I'm sure you have seen.'

"He managed to turn my vibrator on without taking the finger out of me. I guess he really did know his way around sluts and their toys. I was horrified, I knew I wouldn't be able to resist that vibrator directly on my clit. Never was able to. It was my low-spirits-orgasm-toy. No matter how depressed, tired, moody, cold, or overheated I would be, that vibrator would always do the trick. Easy releasy, if you know what I mean."

Once again Molly paused to down more alcohol.

"The good news is that the tale of this particular ordeal, is soon over, Guys."

After a Sprite and booze burp, Molly was ready to continue.

"He turned the vibes to max speed and put it directly on my hooded clit. Fuck he wouldn't have needed lube to finger fuck me in the ass. His cum and my own juices were leaking out of me already. Trailing down to my asshole. And when he put the vibrator on me, my pussy muscles instantly started clenching pushing out even more. Fucking Niagara between my legs, as my brother forced me to orgasm.

" 'Yeah that's it slut,' he said multiple times, 'clench my finger with your ass.'

"As if I had any choice about my asshole clenching and unclenching, when I came. Which I did almost instantly. First one, second right on it's tail. My brother's eyes were burning, he looked insane, crouching for a good view at my lower regions. His cock was completely spent. Flaccid. To this day, I have no clue what drove him at the end, it can't have been sexual arousal.

"After the second orgasm my clit hurt and sent jolts through my abdomen, but he kept going. Wiggling his finger inside my butt, and letting the vibe do it's persistent job on my clit. Within moments I came a third time, after that it became impossible for me to tell orgasms from over-sensitised clit-jolts. He kept at it for minutes, at least I think it was only minutes but it felt like hours.

"Finally he asked, 'Do you believe me now, Molly?'

"My whole body was jerking from the over-stimulation, but I managed to reply."

More alcohol ran down Molly's throat, this time for comfort, not courage.

" 'Yes,' I said, 'Yes, I believe you!'

" 'Do you understand how they made the cum shot, Molly?'

" 'Yes, yes I understand, please stop, John. Please STOP.' And he did, he removed the vibrator from my clit and pulled his finger from my ass.

" 'So you will never call me gay again, will you?'

" 'No, I promise, I won't.' Why would I? I knew he wasn't gay then, and even back then I understood that raping your own sister was far worse than being gay could ever be. Heck, even though I hated gay people back then, I considered coming in front of my own brother far worse than being gay could ever be.

"He untied me, and left the room. That's were it ended. None of us ever told anyone what had happened in my room, while the others had been shopping. Until now at least, now I've told you guys."

"I'm sorry, Molly," Brian said, "That must have been a terrible thing to carry for so long."

"I get by," Molly replied.

"Your story makes my closet-trouble seem small," Dave said.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Molly exclaimed, "The reason I told this story now, the whole point of it."

"What do you mean?" Dave asked.

"We all hated gay men when we were young, me and my siblings, because we all thought our dad hated gay men," Molly explained, and added, "So ironic."

"Your dad didn't hate gay men after all?" Brian asked.

"No, he most certainly didn't. That whole fucking queer fag language was just a habit of his," Molly said.

She downed her second sweet drink and rose to make a third.

"I've often wondered, if things wouldn't have turned out very differently, between me and John, if only my father had revealed to us that he was bisexual when we were small."

"bisexual?" Brian asked, "You can't be bisexual that's a myth."'Shit am I ever gonna learn to keep my trap shut?'he thought to himself, regretting being a pain so soon after Molly's heartbreaking story.

"Well, call it what you like, Brian. My mum and dad had a great sex-life together, until she got sick and died some ten years back. And now my dad has a great sex-life with his newhusband. They fell in love six years ago, moved to a more tolerant place, and got married.

"He never cheated on my mum, so while she was alive it didn't matter that he liked fucking men too. I suppose that's why he never talked about it. I guess that after John was raped by men, Dad was even more careful to not mention it. But once he fell in love with a man and married him, he really couldn't keep it from us any longer now, could he?

"But my point was, considering what might have been averted if my father had told us about his own sexuality, when we were small. I recommend that you leave the closet, Dave. You too Brian."

"So because your brother might not have raped you, if your dad had declared himself openly bi, while living faithfully with his wife. You wantus to leave the closet?" Brian asked, and immediately regretted his frank comment, "Oh crap, I said that out loud didn't I?"

"You did," Dave reproached.

"Sorry, Molly, I shoulda kept that to myself," Brian apologised.

"No, it's ok, Brian," Molly stated, "I'm a bit drunk, I think. I didn't really mean it that way. It's more... uh... I'm not sure how to phrase it. Keeping things like being gay secret, it implies that things like that are wrong. It feeds prejudice, you know?"

Brian nodded, he was willing to admit to that much.

"Prejudice leads to all sorts of nasty things," was Molly's finishing argument.