TABOO TALES(erotica)

He waited until the door was closed, and he turned to me. “Chelsea, you should know that William is on his way.”

I was stunned. “Will? I thought he was overseas…. after the accident – well, you know, he left so suddenly, and there’s been nothing -”

He shrugged. “William choose to stay away for reasons of his own – but he was your mother’s son and she would have wanted him here.”

“When is he arriving?”

“He just said he would be here when he could.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “I’m not sure what happened between you, but I know that something did. Could I ask you to bury the hatchet with him at this difficult time?”

I nodded, and he smiled at me. “Thank you. God willing, we can all get through this together – and perhaps it will even make us stronger.” He turned away, his shoulders slumped with the burden of what had happened.

I told Ben as we walked back to the car, and he reacted as I expected. “That bastard! I’m not having him in the house, after what he did to you! I’ll speak to Dad. He can’t -”

“Ben, the last thing Dad needs is for us to fight. Let it be – it’ll only be for a few days, I’m sure.”

He grunted. “What about you, Chelsea? How do you feel about having him here?”

I thought about it for a few moments. “Nothing, really. What he did was a few years ago now, and remember that I was as much to blame as him.” I squeezed his hand. “I’ve moved on, Ben, and I’m sure he has too. Let it go – we are all here to help Mum now.”

“I don’t want him alone with you.”

“He won’t be.”

He held on to my arm. “I mean that, Chelsea. Promise me you won’t be alone with Will.”

I nodded. “I promise.”

But even as I said it, I knew that it was a promise that I could not keep. There were too many questions between William and I that had yet to be answered, and time had only emphasized them. In some ways I dreaded seeing him again, and yet there was still that fatal attraction – knowing that he was so vulnerable, particularly now that the only member of the family who had truly loved him was close to death. Perhaps I could put the demons to sleep and we could both move on. Perhaps.

*****

Will arrived and we settled into a routine of sorts. He didn’t say much to us, preferring to keep himself to himself, doing his stint at the hospital and then retiring to his bedroom. Mum’s condition didn’t change much, although she was breathing on her own now and they had reduced the drugs that induced the coma. During our shifts each of us would sit by her bed, watching the flickering lights of the monitors and listening to the beat of her heart, talking to her about anything we could.

On the occasions that I saw William he was civil enough. He was still of slender build, with a long face and thin, bloodless lips that had drooped over the last few years to give a permanent expression of distaste. The irises of his eyes were dark, almost black, so that from even a short distance you could not distinguish them from the pupils, and the overall effect was striking. They didn’t reflect his emotions like other peoples’ eyes – they were expressionless, dead and black, like those of a shark. Although he wasn’t tall, he had a presence about him – a sinister aura that suggested brooding introspectivity and a deep reservoir of hidden anger. I noticed that people treated him with deference, although they never smiled at him. He just wasn’t that kind of person.

It was a joyless time, and I think it affected all of us in different ways. Dad spent most of the time at the hospital. He would sit by Mum’s bed for hours, holding her hand and talking to her softly about all of the things that they had done together. He seemed to have aged ten years, his hair more white than grey and his figure shrunken, desiccated, as if someone had put him in a drier for a week or two and then popped him in a jar on the shelf. I was as worried about him as I was about Mum – at least she had good care around her, but he wouldn’t listen to any advice and although I tried to cook him decent meals, most of the time his plate was untouched.

And so it went on. Mum made gradual improvement, although it was dreadfully slow and the doctors were still non-committal. She could hear what we said at least, although she could not respond. Each day I would drag myself home from the hospital and do the chores around the house before writing up my journal and falling into an exhausted sleep. Ben wasn’t much better and we really didn’t have any time together, although we would touch hands when we could, or perhaps have a brief hug when nobody was around.

And then, on the thirteenth day, it all came crashing down.

Dad was at the hospital and Ben was at work, trying to hold things together. I came in from the shopping, carrying the bags through to the kitchen, stacking the groceries in the pantry and making a cup of tea. I glanced at my watch. It was just after four – time for a half hour rest before I made supper.

I climbed wearily upstairs and pushed open the door to my bedroom and stopped dead. William was there, standing next to my bed fully clothed. The drawer in the bedside cabinet was open, the lock broken, and he held my open diary in his hands. He looked up at me with his empty, black eyes, and his voice was a sibilant whisper, full of malice.

“Well, well, little sister, who’s been a naughty girl, then?”

I stopped, rooted to the spot, my heart hammering in my chest. I suppose I felt outrage more than anger, but my voice was shrill. “What the fuck are you doing in my room – and who said you could read my diary?”

He smiled lazily. “I did. What are you going to do about it?”

I looked at him, weighing up my options. I had no wish to touch him so I struggled to be calm. “Nothing. Put it back, please, William, It’s mine.”Content is © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

“In a moment. Let’s just talk about some of this stuff” His thick fingers flicked through the pages. “Ah, here we are… all about you and little Benny. What does it say?” He read out the words. “At last, at last! B. and I are together – glorious, wonderful time with M&D away. How can I want someone that much? ” He laughed. “B for Benny. B for Bloody little shit! B for Bastard!” He giggled at his eloquence. “Looks like it runs in the family, Chelsea. Wasn’t I good enough for you – did you have to diddle your twin brother as well?”

I crossed the room in three strikes, reaching out to snatch it out of his hands, to rake his face with my nails and to tear out his eyes. I lunged forward but he sidestepped and brushed me aside. As I went past him he struck me once, a short blow to the side of the head that rattled my teeth and flung me sideways across the bed. I lay there, stunned, my vision blurred and the metallic taste of blood in my mouth.

He bent over me and seized my hair, pulling me up so I was half upright and twisted towards him, and he thrust his face close to me, his voice low and savage. “Now, now. I’m not finished. Do you want another one or are you going to be good?” He waited for a moment and then he released me and I fell back on the mattress. “Now, where was I? Ah – yes!” He read from the page. “Well, we did it! Four times, and I don’t feel bad about it. Not on the pill, either. Could I be pregnant? I hope so!”” He looked down at me and shook his head “Four times! I didn’t know the little faggot had it in him.” His fingers flicked the pages. “What about this, little sister, dated two weeks ago. ‘Secret rendezvous with B in Maryville. Lovely hotel, beautiful meal and great sex…” He peered at the page. “It’s got three little ticks on the page, Chelsea – does that mean what I think it does?”

I struggled to talk, my voice thick with the swelling where I had bitten my tongue. “You’ve got it all wrong, William. “B” is Bruce – he’s a guy at work and we -” I saw the blow coming this time and tried to dodge it, but he struck me across the face, open handed, knocking me sideways against the bedhead.

“Fuck, you, Chelsea! Do you think I’m stupid? I’ve seen how you two look at each other, all lovey-dovey and touching when you think no one is looking. You make me sick!” He looked down at me with disgust. “Well, are you carrying his little bastard?”

I looked up at him, my eyes pleading.

“Nothing to say? Does that mean yes?” He laughed. “Well, well, I’m to be an uncle am I? An uncle to an inbred moron, most like.” He looked at me. “What am I to do with you, Chelsea?”

“Let me go, William. Walk away and we can forget -”

“Walk away!? I don’t think so!” He waved my diary and laughed. “Not with this little beauty in my hand. Did you know that fucking your brother is an indictable offence in this country, punishable by imprisonment?” He laughed again. “Four to six years, last I heard. Now, you wouldn’t want that, would you? And before you went to prison we could share your little secret with your school pupils, too – can you imagine the questions they would ask? Their innocent little faces shining up at you in the class: ‘Please Miss, is it true you’ve been humping your brother?'” He giggled at the thought, flecks of spittle flying from his lips. “And what about when I tell our dear parents… it might even kill the old bitch, what with the shame of it all, and that supercilious prick -”

I stared up at him in horror. “You wouldn’t tell them, would you? Please…”

“- who thinks he’s fit to call himself my father would never be able to front up to his precious University again.” He giggled again, a high pitch sound. “Ah, yes, that would be fun… I could send it to the Rector, a nice little letter asking if he knew that his precious Professor of Economics was sticking his own daughter in the ass.”

“William, I’m not! I never -”

“Who cares, Chelsea? If you’ve fucked both brothers why not Daddy, too? Who’d believe a little tramp like you?”

I shook my head, tears rolling down my cheeks. “Don’t, please don’t. You’d kill him.”

“Yes, it probably would – eventually… what a nice ending that would be! And what about your precious Benny? He’d lose his job, of course, and would be sent to prison…. they’d soon work out he was a faggot. He’d be fucked ten times a day.” He stopped suddenly, reaching down to seize my hair again, twisting my head so that I was looking at him. “Hey! Look at me when I’m speaking to you, cunt!”

I stared up at him. “William, please. Oh, God, please don’t. I’ll do anything. Give me the book, please.”

He laughed again. “Anything? Too fucking right, you’ll do anything! How about we start right now!” He flung the diary into the open drawer and ripped off his belt, strapping it over my forearms before I could move, pulling it tight so that it cut into my flesh. “Time to share a little with me, sister, and tomorrow we can think of other games to play!”

He reached under my skirt and seized my knickers, ripping them downwards, and he plunged his fingers into my pussy, thick and dry. He giggled as I screamed, and he pushed them in harder, watching me with his dead black eyes as I struggled, and his voice was thick with excitement. “I thought you liked sibling cock, Chelsea! Don’t you want me? Is Benny better than me?” He stared down at me. “I could take you right now, but I think I want you to beg for it. Be nice to me, sister… ask me what I want and be nice, and I might consider being a little bit nice to you.”