[I'm submitting this in the incest/taboo section. There is lots of tenderness and not much sex in this story. The names of the characters are fictional. I only know one person with a name that shows up in this story who is anything like any of the people in the story. Some families communicate love in different ways. This is what worked for this family.]
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My sister is a piece of work. When we were growing up she followed me around like a puppy. Mom had me take her with me almost everywhere I went. She became our mascot. I played baseball in Little League and high school and she became the team scorekeeper. All the guys liked her. She could talk baseball as well as any guy in the school and she was both fun and cute.
As a student she was smart. Not overbearing about being smart, but all the guys knew she was smart. When I was a junior, she was a freshman and Harvey Kronner played third base. She tutored him in Algebra so he could get good enough grades to stay on the team. We never told anyone she was his tutor. Harvey was shy, but he was comfortable with Sam. My sister Sam was one of the guys.
We got along great, more like best friends than the way I saw other brother-sister pairs at school. She steered me away from the girls who were bad news and all the guys in my circle protected her from the guys who were bad news. When she was a junior I was at El Camino Community College. She dated George Sanchez for almost the whole school year. George played center field. He hit .388 that year, 29 home runs and 14 stolen bases. I saw George at our house a lot.
After Community College I went away to Arizona on a baseball scholarship. Sam stayed at home and went to El Camino. We talked on the phone at least once a month and we hung out together during vacations. Every time I came home I was surprised by how she was changing.
All the way through high school she was a slender, girl wearing blue jeans and a baseball shirt with barely a body. She developed a chest late. I think she wore a cheater bra until she was a senior, just so people would know she was a girl. But her senior year she began showing signs of womanhood. I came home for Christmas and she was a cute, slender girl with hips and small breasts, but definitely breasts.
At Christmas the next year she was taller, still slender but smoother, and her chest was at least a "C" cup. She still favored baseball shirts, jeans and athletic shoes as her normal day-to-day dress but during that Christmas vacation she invited me to go to a dance at her college and I was knocked on my ass when I saw her in that slinky, shiny black dress! It hugged her body all the way to mid thigh and showed beautiful legs. The top of the dress was not slutty but there was no denying she was all woman.
I reminded myself twenty or more times that evening that Samantha was my sister and I shouldn't hit on her. Lots of other men did hit on her. I danced with lots of Sam's friends and a few acted interested in me. We both had a great time and talked and laughed on the way back to our parents house.
The summer I graduated I had hoped baseball would have a job for me. It didn't. So I took a job with a good company and started working. I was in San Diego while Mom, Dad and Sam were in L.A. Things went well that first year. I got promoted, moved to a nicer apartment near the ocean and played on a team in an adult league.
Sam and I talked on the phone, staying in touch. During her spring break it would be Mom and Dad's twenty-fifth anniversary. We were going on a cruise down to Mexico as a family. We talked often and both of us were looking forward to the trip. We would be sharing a cabin for the four day cruise. That was the only drawback either of us could see. We said it was a drawback, but neither of really thought so.
We were scheduled to leave on Saturday. I was supposed to drive up to L.A. after work on Friday. Early Friday morning everything changed.
I'd been at my desk for five minutes when the phone rang. "PPK Industries. This is Pete, how can I help you?"
"Come home right now!" She sounded in pain.
"Sam! What's wrong?"
"I've been beaten and raped. I'm at Centenella Hospital. Can you come?"
"I'll be on the road in ten minutes. Are you gonna be Ok?"
"When you get here, I'll be better. Don't call home! Promise me!"
I promised. My mind raced. I was all packed and ready. My car was full of gas and my little sister was hurt. I told my boss what was up and he sent me on my way.
It was the first time I had made the drive without stopping for fast food. I watched for cops and watched my speed. I didn't see a cop. I pulled into the lot of the hospital and went inside. Minutes later I walked into the treatment area where Sam was waiting for me. She was dressed and at first glance she looked tired but not hurt. Then she moved and I could tell she was in lots of pain.
"Thanks for coming, Pete. I don't want Mom and Dad to know I was raped." Tears flowed down her cheeks. "We can tell them I got beat up. I did. We can still go on vacation and they will still have a fun anniversary. If we tell them I was raped we'll ruin it for them. Ok?"
"Yeah. I'll take care of you. Can you go?"
"No. The doctor wants to talk to you first."
A few minutes later the doctor came in. She was beautiful. Tall red head with short hair, great legs and a body hiding inside a white coat.
"You're Pete, her brother?"
"Yes."
"You'll be taking care of her for the next week or so?"
"As long as it takes."
"Ok." She told me what was needed and I realized how badly Sam was hurt. Four broken ribs, lots of bruises and small cuts on her body and legs and tears to both her vagina and anus. She gave me a big bag of bandages, antiseptic cream and tape. I got the pain killers and antibiotics from the pharmacy. A nurse wheeled her out to my car and we went home. Mom and Dad weren't home. A note on the kitchen table told us they were out for brunch with some friends.
We sat in the living room and she told me the story. She had already told the police. She had gone with three girl-friends to a college party at one of the bigger Universities in L.A. By midnight Sam was pretty sure two of her friends had disappeared with guys. She danced and had fun and by three was ready to leave. She went looking for her friends and found lots of couples in beds, but not her friends. She went out to where they had parked and the car they arrived in was gone. She was fifteen miles from home and her friends and ride were gone.
One of the guys followed her out when she went looking for her friends and he offered to bring her home. She didn't want to accept, but she also didn't want to wake Dad to come rescue her. She accepted and he got her into his car. She told him where to go and when he got on the freeway she fell asleep. She stopped the story and cried some more. Crying with broken ribs hurts even more than breathing.
I waited. She resumed the story. "When I woke up we were parked. We were under a bridge. My dress was off, my bra was off and he was working on getting my panties off. I screamed at him and hit him. He said he never gave sluts a ride for free. I screamed again and he hit me in the chest. It knocked the wind out of me. He ripped my panties off and got my legs apart. His pants were open and I saw his thing sticking out. I knew he intended to rape me. He spit on me, down there and shoved in, hard. It hurt so bad I passed out!" I gave her some more tissues and she blew her nose and wiped tears from her face.
"When I came to again he was inside my ass! God, it hurt so bad! I cried and begged him to stop. Then he hit me again and threw me out of the car onto the ground. My dress and bra were beside me on the ground and he kicked me in the chest. I heard and felt the ribs crack. He knelt down close to me and said, "Tell your asshole brother this was payback for him taking my girl when he was a senior." Then he got in the car and drove off."
It took a while but I figured out who it was. Tommy Simons. He was three years younger than me and had a thing for Carla Morone. When I got interested in her he was pissed. He held a grudge for years. Amazing.
