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The Broken Mind

By: TwistedMisery



Editor's Note: story contains nonconsentual content.

*

Sarah Anne lifted the last cardboard box from the trunk of her car, and made her way up the steps towards her mother's house. 

This was her final destination after a rocky four year relationship with her boyfriend Steve, and a feeling of moroseness overcame her as she yearned for the small, one bedroom apartment they'd shared together. 

Opening the screen door to the house, Sarah Anne pushed the inner door open, and nearly stumbled as it gave way beneath her fingers quicker than she had expected. Nothing had really changed in the time she had been away from home. 

Nothing had really changed in the twenty four years since her birth. Her mother didn't care for change, and the house had a definite relic feel to it. 

The furniture and decor had remained the same since as far back as she could remember, and stepping into her mother's house was like taking a whirlwind ride on a time machine.

Stepping through the living room with the box still in her hands, Sarah Anne made her way into the kitchen, and through the doorway that led up to the attic. Taking the steps slowly, she made her way up to the tiny remodeled room she was to call her own until she could find suitable living arrangements again.

The room didn't feel much bigger to her than a closet, and could be quite stuffy when the window was closed. It barely had enough room within it to fit her bed and dresser, but it was quiet, and would allow her a great deal of privacy to sort through her life and the decisions she would have to make next. 

It's only saving grace was the small bathroom that sat off to the left side. If she closed her eyes, and imagined really hard, it was almost like having a place of her own. 

Setting the box down on the bed, Sarah Anne pushed the bathroom door open, and turned on the light. It looked exactly as she remembered it. 

The only major difference was that the brown linoleum was starting to curl slightly near the tub, and there seemed to be a crack in the ceiling she didn't recall being there before. Other than that, it looked exactly the way it had the last time she had been in it. 

Turning to gaze into the mirror above the sink, she frowned slightly at the discoloration beneath her large blue eyes. She looked tired, but that was to be expected with the amount of stress she had been under. Anyone would be tired if they had gone through what she had been through over the past few weeks. 

Running her fingers through her dark blonde hair, she let out a sigh, and pushed out her full bottom lip as she scowled at her reflection. It contorted her features in an emulation of a monkey, and the image made her crack a small smile as she turned to leave the bathroom. 

The sight of her little brother standing near the top of the stairs startled her, and she jumped as she looked at him warily. 

"What are you doing up here, Artie?"

He didn't respond, but she didn't really expect him to. Her nineteen year old brother was mentally disabled, and rarely acknowledged questions that were asked of him. He could understand them, he just chose not to respond more often than not. 

He wasn't even looking in her direction. His dark eyes were glued to the small cardboard box she had left upon her mattress. 

"There's a box on your bed." he stated as he frowned. 

Sarah Anne nodded as she looked at his confused face. "Yes. I just put that there," she told him. 

"Why is there a box on your bed?" His frown grew larger as he looked at it. 

Sarah Anne used her most patient tone as she responded. "I brought it up with me when I came up. It has some of my things in it."

Arthur's frown stayed in place as he turned to look at her."There shouldn't be a box there. That's not where boxes go. You should move it." 

His large frame seemed stiff and tense, and extremely agitated as he informed her of this information.

Sarah Anne knew that distractions were the best route to go in these types of situations. 

"Would you like to see what's inside of the box, Artie?"

Instead of answering her question, he turned to glare in the direction of the box, and Sarah Anne stepped towards it, and lifted it from the bed. 

Pressing the folds back on the top, she stepped towards her brother's large frame, and held it out so that he could see inside of it. There were roughly a dozen paperback books in the box, and she held them up for his inspection.

His gaze dropped to the books for a moment, and he stared at them hard. He almost seemed to be confused as he looked at them.

Lifting one out, she held it up so he could see it better, and smiled. "See, Artie? They're books."

When he slapped it out of her hand, she gasped in surprise. The paperback dropped to the floor and skidded beneath her bed, and Sarah Anne snatched her hand away as if it had been burned. 

"Why did you do that, Artie?" she asked with a frown.

Instead of answering her, he took the box from her hands, turned toward the stairs, and dropped it so that it went tumbling down the staircase. Most of the books came spilling out, and each one hit a stair on it's way down making a horrible racket.

He smiled as he watched them fall, then turned to look at another box she had placed on the floor. His gaze was as intent on this one as it had been on the last.

"Mom!" Sarah yelled down the staircase apprehensively. 

Her mother must have stepped into the kitchen at the time that she called because only a moment passed before her head appeared at the bottom of the staircase.

"What is it, dear?"

Sarah glanced over her shoulder quickly before turning to face her once again. "Can you come get, Artie. He's kind of freaking me out."

Her mother frowned slightly before clearing her throat. "Arthur? You know you're not supposed to be in the attic. Come down here right this instant before I give you a spanking!"

The threat was completely absurd to Sarah Anne's ears. Their mother was a tiny woman. No more than five feet three inches tall, and her brother towered over her by more than a foot. He also outweighed her by a good eighty pounds.

Yet, when she barked the order at him, his eyes widened, and he hustled down the staircase quick to obey her. 

When he was out of Sarah Anne's sight, her mother smiled up at her apologetically. "Dinner will be ready in a few minutes, dear. Hope you're hungry."

Smiling at her mother's warm face, Sarah Anne nodded before turning away from the stairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Her mother had made meatloaf, and mashed potatoes with a side of steamed carrots, and peas. They sat at the kitchen table eating it as best they could since her mother had to pause frequently to reprimand Arthur from picking the peas off of his plate, and throwing them across the room.

By the time dinner was over, he had begun throwing them at Sarah Anne, and their mother had to raise her voice, and send him away from the table as punishment. 

He seemed to balk at the order, but another threat of a spanking brought him back into line, and throwing his chair back as he stood, he stormed from the room in a tantrum.

"Im sorry, dear," she said as she turned to Sarah Anne. "He's not usually this misbehaved. He's not used to having anyone else in the house, and I think he's looking for attention."

"It's alright, mom," Sarah Anne assured her. "I can only imagine what it's like to deal with him. If there's anything I can do to help, let me know."

"Actually, honey, there is. The group center that picks him up in the mornings is going to be closed for the next few days for fumigation. They picked up a nasty case of bed bugs from what I hear."

Her expression became apologetic as she looked at Sarah Anne. 

"I hate to bring something like this up on your first day home, but it would keep me from having to take the next few days off if you were to keep an eye on him for me while I'm at work. It's not that difficult. He spends most of the day watching television. The most you would have to do is make sure that he eats his lunch, and stays inside of the house."

Sarah Anne's eyes widened slightly at her mother's words. She hadn't been alone with her brother since he was little, and she could pick him up to get him to do the things she wanted him to do. 

Now that he was twice her size, she was slightly more apprehensive at the idea of being in charge of him. Sarah Anne's voice wavered slightly as she responded. "Alright. What do I do if he won't listen to me?"

Her mother smiled, and waved a hand at her. "Oh. There's a few tricks. All you have to do is say the right thing, and he falls right in line."

Sarah Anne still felt unsure, but did well at hiding her concern as her mother smiled at her sweetly. "Alright, mom. I think I'll be able to manage," she assured her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sarah Anne slipped the thin nightgown over her head, and let it fall around her body before pulling her long, dark blonde hair out of the neckline. 

Once she was covered, she leaned forward to pull her bedspread back so she could crawl into her bed. The sheets felt cool against her skin, and she quickly pulled the blankets up around her before leaning over to switch off her bedside lamp. 

Snuggling down into her pillow, she sighed comfortably, and opened her eyes to see the room softly illuminated by the moon's glow that was trailing in through the window.

It gave the room a less spooky feel to it than if it were completely dark, and she silently thanked whoever had built this part of the house for having the good sense to install a window. 

Slipping to her back, she angled her head back into her pillow in effort to get situated a little better, and as she turned her head a loud gasp escaped her throat.

There was a large shadow of a person on the staircase, and as Sarah Anne's heart raced with complete terror, she let out a startled cry. That's when she realized that the shadow wasn't a monster, it was her little brother.

"Arthur? What are you doing?"

He neither moved nor responded. He was like a statue where he stood below the top of the staircase. 

Sarah Anne tried again. "Arthur, you're not supposed to be up here. Do you want mom to be mad at you?"

There was still no inclination that he had heard her, and his utter stillness began to make Sarah Anne nervous. 

"If mom catches you up here you might get a spanking," she continued. "You wouldn't want that would you, Arthur?"

He stayed where he was, and didn't speak a word. He was so still that if it wasn't for the dark outline of his body, Sarah Anne would begin to question if he was really there at all.

At a complete loss as to what she should do, Sarah Anne took a moment to think of what would be the next best move. By the time she finally realized that she would have to call for her mother, she turned her head, and noticed that he was gone. 

He had silently slipped back down the staircase, and had left the attic. Breathing a sigh of relief, Sarah Anne pulled the covers up higher, and closed her eyes to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Her mother's voice woke her the next morning. The sound of her name being called pulled Sarah Anne from a deep sleep, and for just the smallest moment she believed she was small again, and her mother was waking her for school.

"Honey, it's eight o'clock. I have to leave shortly. Time to rise and shine!"

Groaning, Sarah Anne slipped from her bed as she approached the staircase. "Do I have time to take a shower?" she asked.

Her mother smiled as she looked up at her. "Only if you make it quick."

Nodding, Sarah Anne stepped away from the landing, and headed towards the bathroom as she pulled her nightgown over her head. Dropping it to the floor, she stepped into the room in her panties, and quickly reached down to turn on the shower faucet to let the water heat up. 

Once she finally stepped into the tub, the water felt amazing to her groggy mind. The heat splashed against her soft skin, and pelted against her back, and Sarah Anne tilted her head back beneath it as it slid over and down her body. 

It was so utterly relaxing that fifteen minutes went by before she realized how long she had been standing there. 

Quickly washing her hair and body, Sarah Anne rinsed off before turning off the water. Slipping from the tub, she pulled a large towel from the holder, and held it up to her face to dab the water away. 

She slid it alternately over different parts of her body until she had gotten most of the moisture with it, then bent over to rub it over her hair to pull the dampness from it. Once that was done, she wrapped it around herself, and left the bathroom. 

As the door opened she could hear her mother at the bottom of the stairs once again. "Honey, I really have to go now. Will you be down soon?"

"Yes, mom!" she called. "You can go. I just need to throw some clothes on then I'll be right down. Two minutes at the most."

"Alright, dear," she said cheerfully. "Your brother is in the living room watching television. I left some contact numbers, and a list of do's and don'ts on the counter. I should be home around five. Call me if you need anything."

"Bye mom!" Sarah Anne called as she rummaged through a few of the boxes in search of the ones that held her shirts.

She searched through five different ones until she found them, and once she had she sighed in relief as she pulled a soft cotton tank top over her head. 

Another two boxes resolved the issue of underwear, and she was in search of the right one that contained her jeans when a sound from behind her startled her into whirling around. 

Arthur was standing at the top of the stairs, his eyes on the box she had been digging through. His dark head was tilted slightly, and a small frown passed over his features as he gazed at it.

Oh, shit. He's going to throw all my clothes down the stairs, she thought in annoyance. "Arthur, wait downstairs for me. I'm getting dressed," she told him. 

Turning away, she pulled open another box, and smiled when a pair of Levis sat staring back at her. Pulling a pair from the box, she stood up straight, and frowned when she saw that her brother hadn't moved from the spot at the top of the stairs. 

"Arthur, I said go downstairs." Her annoyance was apparent now, and she was beginning to lose her patience.

He was looking directly at her now, and Sarah Anne rolled her eyes as she turned away from him so that she could step into her jeans. 

Holding them in her hands, she bent over, and lifted her foot to slip it into one of the pants legs when her brother slammed into her from behind. It sent her flying forward so that she dropped the jeans, and went face first into the middle of her bed. 

Letting out a startled cry, Sarah Anne's hands came out to brace her from falling, and before she knew what was happening, her brother put his large hand in the middle of her back to hold her in place before his other hand came cracking down on her backside. The sound it made was loud in the room, and Sarah Anne cried out at the sudden pain of it.

"Spank!" her brother yelled out.

Surprise quickly turned to anger as she tried to push back against his hand in order to rise, but his overwhelming strength held her easily in position as his hand came cracking down again. 

"Spank!" he yelled out again with a laugh.

Sarah Anne's breath seethed out from between her teeth as she lost her temper. "Arthur! You let me up right this second! You're in very big trouble!"

Her words seemed to hold little impact as he brought his palm down again. The impact was hard, and Sarah Anne gasped as she felt her bottom burn. 

"You're bad," he told her. "You're in the attic." His palm came down again to slap at her ass, making it feel like it was in flames.

Crying out, Sarah Anne tried to reach back to cover her bottom from the next blow. "I'm allowed to be in the attic! This is my room!" She hollered at him. "Now let me up!"

"You need to be punished," was his only response.

Pressing his palm more firmly into her spine, he pushed her hand away, then Arthur reached up to grip the waistband of her panties in his large fist, and roughly tore them down until they were around the middle of her thighs. It bared her crimson backside to his view, and he smiled as he slapped her ass again. 

"Spank!" he said with another laugh.

Gasping at the searing agony that he was inflicting, Sarah Anne tried not to panic. "Arthur. You're hurting me. Can you please stop hitting me, and let me up?"

In response, his palm came down again. "Spank!" She gritted her teeth. "Spank!" She closed her eyes. "Spank!"

Something in Sarah Anne snapped, and she snarled as she pushed back against his imprisoning hand. She was extremely close to wriggling free when her brother fell on top of her, and slid his hands beneath her arms to curl over her shoulders. He held her in a vice grip upon the bed as he laughed again. 

"More spankings," he told her firmly.

This time he used his hips to demonstrate the punishment. Lifting them away from where they were pressed into her bottom, he slammed them into her. 

"Spank!" he yelled out again. 

The strength he put into it jarred Sarah Anne's entire frame, and pushed her up the bed. When he'd pull his hips back, she would slide down a little until he slammed into her again pushing her back up. 

Up until this point he had been physically assaulting her, and more or less scaring the hell out of her, but Sarah Anne's trepidation doubled when he laid on top of her, crushing her into the mattress. 

He was now slamming his jean covered genitals into her bare backside in order to spank her, and with each pummel of his hips, Sarah Anne could feel that he was thickening within his jeans, and hear that his voice was becoming strained as he yelled out the spanks.

"Stop!" Sarah Anne cried out. "Get off!"

Instead of complying, his large hand lifted to the side of her head, and pushed it down to the mattress roughly, and held it there.

His spankings were increasing in speed, and Sarah Anne let out a cry of anguish as his hips began aggressively humping her bare ass.

"You're bad," he panted on top of her. "I need to spank you good."

Sarah Anne could feel the length of his stiff dick pushing against her sore bottom, rubbing between her cheeks as he ground himself into her.

He had stopped using a slapping motion, and was roughly dry humping her through his jeans. He was grunting, and breathing heavily as he rocked Sarah Anne's body to the tempo of his thrusts.

His palm was still pushing her head into the mattress, unwilling her to move at all, and for the next twenty minutes, Sarah Anne had no choice but to lay passively as he roughly rode her body.

The energetic way in which he moved against her had the bed frame squeaking in complaint, and Sarah tried to block out the horror that was happening to her as her brother grunted and lunged into her over and over.

When she felt like she could not take it a second longer, a sob escaped her. "Arthur, stop! I'm sorry I was bad! Forgive me! Please stop!"

His hips jetted against her continuously as she pleaded with him, but he ignored her agonized cries as a strange groan escaped him. It was followed by another and another, and Sarah began to realize in horror that he was having an orgasm as he stilled against her.

When it was over, he released his hold upon the side of her head, and placed his palms on the mattress to levy himself upwards to get out of the bed. 

Once he was on his feet, he reached down to pick up the cardboard box that held her blue jeans. Walking over to the top of the stairs, he let it go, and watched it tumble noisily to the bottom of the landing.


The Broken Mind Ch. 02



Sarah Anne sat huddled on the patio chair of her mother's front porch with her knees drawn up to her chest. It had been thirty minutes since she had left the house, and the idea of returning to it sent a shudder through her slight frame. She ached everywhere.

The rough treatment of her body by her brother's hands left her feeling sore, and the aggressive violation she had undergone had deeply traumatized her. She had no idea what to do.

If she went back inside, she was taking a very large chance of enduring more. She needed to call her mother, and ask her to come home. 

Only, what reason could she give her? She couldn't imagine telling her what had happened. She couldn't stomach the thought of enduring anymore humiliation and degradation.

Seeing no other real alternative, Sarah Anne slipped from the chair, and hesitantly walked over to the front door to open it slowly. The living room was empty, making her sigh in relief, and she quickly stepped inside before closing the door. 

Her little brother was no where to be seen, which was never a good sign. He had abandoned his spot in front of the television, and was now only God knew where.

Stepping lightly through the living room, Sarah Anne peered into the kitchen with bated breath, and saw that it too was empty. 

"Where did that little freak go?" Sarah Anne muttered to herself.

Walking to the counter, she picked up the paper her mother had left her that had a list of instructions, and her contact information written across it. Holding it up, she read what she had written.

Helpful Hints

1. Don't promise him anything that you can't deliver. He will hound you all day long until he gets it. 

2. Try not to argue with him, it only antagonizes him, and gets him worked up. If he says, or does something strange just go along with it.

3. Asking for hugs easily distracts him, and he seems to enjoy the physical contact.

4. If he misbehaves, tell him that Santa is watching him, and that little boys don't get presents if they're naughty.

5. There is a jar on top of the fridge with cookies inside of it. You can tell him that if he's a good boy that he can have one.

6. Above all else, make sure he doesn't leave the house.

Sarah Anne's eyes widened after she'd read the entire list. There was no way that she was going to offer him a hug, and if he attempted to do anything further she would tell him that Santa stabbed naughty little boys.

These were helpful hints, just not in the way her mother had quite expected. She planned on using them as weapons. 

At the bottom of the paper was her mother's work number. Stepping over to the corded telephone that hung from the wall, she lifted the receiver in her hand. 

She had just managed to dial the first three numbers when an extremely loud crashing noise reached her ears making her jump. Turning her head, Sarah Anne gasped as the card board box hit the bottom landing of the attic steps, and several of her things came spilling out of it. 

Just as she registered where the noise had stemmed from, her brother came galloping down the attic steps, and leapt over the box so that he was standing beside her. Sarah Anne's eyes widened, and her heart beat faster within her chest as he looked at her. 

"Where is the candy?" he asked pointedly.

"It's in my purse," she answered in a strangled whisper.

"Get it now please," Arthur directed her.

Sarah Anne nodded in consent. "Okay. I will. I just have to make one phone call first."

Arthur's brow furrowed as he looked at her. "I want the candy," he repeated firmly.

Punching in the last four digits of her mother's work number, Sarah Anne looked at her brother warily. The call quickly connected, and she could hear the sound of ringing in her ear as she waited for someone to pick up. 

When Arthur turned to pull the cord out of the telephone, Sarah Anne lowered the receiver with a gasp. 

His expression remained calm as he dropped the cord to the floor. "I want it now," he informed her. His tone didn't brook any arguments.

Running shaky fingers through her hair, Sarah Anne set the receiver back into it's cradle now devoid of the cord. "Alright, Arthur. I'll get it now."

Stepping away from him, Sarah Anne made her way through the kitchen, and into the living room. As she approached the closet near the front door, she could hear her brother's footsteps behind her as he followed her.

Opening the closet, she reached inside until she had located her purse, and pulled it out by it's strap. Once she had it in her hands, she unzipped the side pocket, and pulled out the Snickers bar she kept there to kill her hunger cravings while she worked. 

Turning around, she gasped to find her brother standing so close behind her. His dark eyes were impassive as he looked at her, but when she held the candy bar aloft, a large smile lifted his lips, and his eyes seemed to brighten within his face.

"I want that," he announced loudly.

Handing it over to him, Arthur quickly took it from her hand, and opened the wrapper before taking a large bite. He chewed it for a moment then smiled at her happily before walking over to the couch, and jumping on top of it so that he was standing on the cushions. 

Sarah Anne watched him in surprise as he began jumping up and down, and with a shake of her head, she wandered back into the kitchen.

When she had reached the phone once more, she quickly swooped down to pick up the end of the cord to insert it back into the telephone.

Pressing down on the cradle to reset the receiver, she lifted it to her ear, and sighed in relief when she heard a dial tone. Arthur entered the kitchen behind her as she began to dial.

"I want to take a bath," he announced.

Peering back at him over her shoulder, Sarah Anne's brows furrowed as she looked at him. "Arthur, you have to wait until mom gets home to take a bath. I can't give you one."

A dark frown passed over his features at her response. It made his young face seem imposing as his eyebrows lowered toward his eyes.

"I want to take a bath now!" he yelled stubbornly. Picking up a spatula that was resting on the counter top, he threw it across the room before his angry eyes rested on his sister once more.

"Alright," Sarah Anne said as she hung up the telephone. Turning to face him, she lifted her hands into the air in a signal of surrender. "You can take a bath. Just stop throwing things."

Arthur smiled in victory as he let out a small laugh. Reaching up to scratch his stubbled face, he dropped his hand before turning to head in the direction of the bathroom. 

Once he was inside, Sarah Anne warily followed him until she reached the doorway. Placing her hand on the doorjamb, she watched as her brother turned in a complete circle as he looked around him.

"What are you looking for?" she wondered aloud.

"Mr. Wallace," he informed her.

"Who is Mr. Wallace," Sarah Anne asked curiously.

"He is my duck."

Lifting her brows, she nodded at that piece of information, then stepped into the room to approach the bath tub. Once she had reached it, she leaned forward, and pushed the lever for the stopper before turning on the faucet for the hot water.

As the bath tub began to fill, she turned to watch her brother as he dug through the drawers that were built into the bathroom counter. 

Opening the first one, he stared down into it for a minute before shaking his head. Slamming it closed, he reached for the second drawer, and pulled it all the way open. 

Looking into that one as well, a smile appeared on his face as he reached down into it. When he pulled his hand out, he held up a small, yellow plastic duck in the palm of his hand.

"Mr. Wallace," he showed her.

"He's very nice, Arthur," Sarah Anne told him.

"He can swim," Arthur announced proudly.

Stepping over to the side of the bath tub, he bent down and placed the small duck into the bottom of the tub. When it floated at the top of the water, he turned to smirk at her as if it had just created a magical feat.

"Impressive," Sarah Anne said with a nod.

"He needs bubbles," Arthur said with a frown.

"We can give him bubbles," Sarah Anne agreed. 

Reaching into the shower caddy, she lifted the shampoo, and flipped open the cap before tipping the bottle, and squeezing a dollop into the water. Immediately, bubbles began to emerge, and spread across the water. Arthur smiled as he watched them appear.

"Can you handle this by yourself?" Sarah Anne asked as she looked at him.

Arthur stared at her blankly after she asked the question.

"Taking a bath. Can you do it by yourself?" Sarah Anne repeated.

When he still didn't respond, Sarah Anne sighed. "Does mom wash you?" Sarah Anne asked.

Arthur frowned. "Mom tells me what to wash. She sits on the toilet," he informed her.

"Do you need me to tell you what to wash?" Sarah Anne asked worriedly.

"No," Arthur responded. "I'm big. I can do it."

A breath of relief escaped her before she nodded. "Good. I'll leave you to it then." Turning, Sarah Anne attempted to leave the bathroom when he stopped her.

"I need you to undress me," Arthur told her.

Whirling around, Sarah Anne's brows furrowed. "Arthur, you can undress yourself," she told him.

"I need you to do it. Buttons are hard." Plucking at the front of his shirt, he looked up at her, and scowled.

"Pull it over your head," Sarah Anne told him.

"That's not how you do it," he said stubbornly.

Sarah Anne sighed in aggravation. "Fine. I will help you with your shirt, but after that you have to do the rest on your own. Alright?"

Nodding in agreement, Arthur stood waiting as she approached him. When she lifted her fingers to the first button, she looked up at him warily. "Hold still, okay?"

Nodding again, Arthur did his best to impersonate a statue as she slipped the buttons through their holes. Once she had released the last one, she stepped back, and met his eyes.

"There. Your shirt is open. You can manage the rest on your own."

Plucking at the front of his pants, Arthur looked up at her. "I need you to open this," he told her.

Sarah Anne frowned as she looked up at him. "Arthur, you can open your own pants. I know you can. You did it before."

The grin that passed over his face made her blink in surprise. It dawned on her that he was completely playing her, and she was falling for it. It made her wonder how difficult the buttons had actually been for him as she narrowed her eyes.

"I'm going to go wait in the kitchen. When you're done with your bath let me know," she told him.

"I want a hug," he told her before she could fully step through the door.

Stilling, she glanced back at him as her eyes widened. "I'll give you a hug once you finish your bath like a good boy," she told him.

"I am a good boy," he informed her. "I want it now."

The water in the bath tub was beginning to reach a good level, and Sarah Anne stepped back into the bathroom to turn off the water. When she straightened, she met her brother's dark eyes warily before stepping forward, and quickly wrapping her arms around him. 

She meant for it to be a quick squeeze that she could easily pull back from, but once she put pressure around his ribcage, his strong arms quickly snaked around her, and he pulled her tightly to him.

Sarah Anne was trapped in his embrace as his chin dropped down to her shoulder. He began to turn slowly from side to side as he held her, and she waited with bated breath for him to release her.

"That was nice, Arthur. Thank you," she told him in an effort to gain her freedom. 

Instead of dropping his arms away from her like she expected, his hold actually tightened, and he began moving his palms up and down her back.

"You feel good," he said thickly beside her ear.

Beginning to panic, Sarah Anne pushed against his chest to peel herself away from him, and after a moment managed to succeed. 

He released her, and she took a step back from him. Running her fingers through her golden hair in agitation, she took a deep breath.

"All set to take your bath?" she asked shakily.

"Yes," Arthur answered. "You take one too."

His words made her blue eyes widen. "I already took one today, Arthur. I don't need one."

"I want you to take a bath," Arthur repeated. "With me and Mr. Wallace."

Sarah Anne shook her head as she backed away from him towards the door. "Mr. Wallace will be upset if I take his spot," Sarah Anne told him. "You take your bath. I'll wait in the kitchen," she said again.

Turning around, Sarah Anne darted from the bathroom, and left her brother to his own devices as she reentered the kitchen. Rounding the table, she pulled out one of the chairs, and sat down in it as a heavy breath escaped her.

She could hear the sound of her brother shuffling around the bathroom since the door was still wide open. A moment passed, and then the sound of him stepping into the water reached her ears. Sarah Anne's chest sagged in relief as she realized he was finally going to listen to something that she said. 

It was short lived because when she lifted her eyes, her brother stood in the doorway as naked as the day he was born, with both of his hands resting on opposite sides of the doorjamb beside him.

A gasp escaped Sarah Anne as she looked at him. "What are you doing, Arthur?" she asked in surprise.

"I want you to come take a bath with me," he told her again.

Losing what little patience she had left, Sarah Anne scowled. "No, Arthur! You go back into the bathroom, and take your bath. I am not coming in there!" 

The harsh tone of voice she used made his eyes drop to the floor submissively. He seemed to be cowed by her anger, but after a moment he lifted his dark eyes to her once more, and a small frown slid across his features. 

"Yelling at me is bad," he told her. "You're being bad again."

Attempting to calm herself before the situation got out of hand, Sarah Anne forced a smile she didn't feel. "I didn't mean to yell, Arthur. I just don't want to take a bath right now."

He seemed to think about it for a moment, and then he looked up at her. "Okay," he finally said. Turning around, he went back into the bathroom.

The sound of splashing reached her ears, and she let out another sigh. After a moment she heard her brother's voice emerge from the bathroom along with more splashing. 

"Swim, Mr. Wallace, swim!" He then began to make car noises with his mouth.

Placing her arms on the table top, Sarah Anne let her forehead drop on top of them. It wasn't even noon yet, and her mother wouldn't be home for hours.

"I need help!" her brother hollered suddenly.

Sarah Anne didn't rise from the table to answer him. "With what?" she yelled back.

"It's top secret! I can't tell you!"

Sarah Anne rolled her eyes before responding. "If you can't tell me then how am I supposed to help you?" she asked.

"Come in the bathroom!" he answered.

Fighting the urge to swear, Sarah Anne pushed the chair back as she rose from the table. Stepping towards the bathroom door, she paused when she saw what the problem was. 

Her brother must have dumped the entire bottle of shampoo onto his head because his hair was a giant ball of suds, and they were sliding down his face, and into his eyes. 

His eyes were closed, and he was squinting as Sarah Anne came into the bathroom. "How much shampoo did you use?" she asked in aggravation. 

"It's hurting my eyes," he told her.

Reaching for the cup that sat on the sink, Sarah Anne approached the bath tub, and sunk low until she was sitting on the edge of it. Dipping the cup into the water, she lifted it, and poured it over her brother's head.

She had to do it more than a half a dozen times before she had managed to get most of the soap rinsed out of his hair. When she was done, Arthur blinked a couple times before reaching up to rub his eyes. 

"It's fixed," he informed her.

Nodding, Sarah Anne began to lift herself away from the edge of the tub, but her brother quickly reached out, and wrapped his arms around her waist before dragging her backwards into the tub. She let out a cry as she landed in the water right between his legs. 

"Damnit, Arthur!" she growled as she tried to get up.

It was difficult enough in the awkward position that she was in, but when her brother refused to let go of her waist she realized that she was trapped. 

"Now you can take a bath with us," he said happily.

Pulling her legs in that were dangling from the side of the tub, Sarah Anne attempted to twist in his hold so that she could get some kind of footing. Since he wouldn't let go of her as she wriggled around, all she ended up doing was pressing her back more fully against his broad chest. 

"Arthur, let me up," she said as she tried to sit forward.

The sound of his laughter reached her ears as his chest shook beneath her. Gripping her soaked shirt in his fingers, he began pulling it up her stomach, and over her torso until it was bunched beneath her arms.

Sarah Anne gasped as she clamped her elbows to her sides to stop him. "What are you doing?"

"No clothes in the bath tub," he told her. 

Pulling up harder, Sarah Anne was forced to lift her arms in order to keep them attached to her body. Once he had pulled the soggy cloth from her, he threw it on the bathroom floor.

Sarah Anne's hands quickly came up to cover herself as she turned to glare into her brother's dark eyes.

Holding up Mr. Wallace in his hand, he touched the plastic duck to the tip of her nose as he made a kissing noise with his lips.

"Take off the pants, please."

Ignoring him, Sarah Anne tried once again to sit forward as she grasped onto the side of the tub. Using all of her strength, she levered herself upwards, and managed to push herself to her feet when her brother's large hands reached out to grip the waistband of her bottoms, and pull them down her legs.

The added weight of the water aided him, and Sarah Anne gasped in horror when they sunk down to her ankles, and she became bared to his view. Panicking, she lifted her foot from them as she stepped over the side of the tub, and shook her other foot out to free it. 

With her heart in her throat, she darted across the bathroom completely naked, and ejected herself through the door as quickly as she could.

Running across the kitchen's linoleum floor, Sarah Anne headed for the direction of the attic, and had made it up the first four steps when a large arm crushed about her waist, and pulled her from the stairs.

She let out a yelp of surprise mixed with fear as her body was maneuvered through the air as her brother turned away from them, and carried her in the other direction.

"Bath time is over, Arthur!" she cried out as her fingers dug into his arm.

Grunting in response, he paused for a moment, and seemed to make a decision before he left the kitchen with her in tow. Entering the living room, he stepped to the right, and Sarah Anne's eyes widened as she realized that he was taking them into his bedroom.

He didn't stop until he reached the side of his bed, and then he dropped her like a sack of potatoes on top of it. Her knees hit the mattress first making her bounce, but the momentum with which she landed sent her forward, and she reached her hands out to brace her fall.

The moment that she was bent over, Arthur lifted his large palm and brought it down on the right cheek of her bottom in a loud slap. The painful impact surprised her, and Sarah Anne gasped as her eyes widened.

His large hand splayed out over the lower part of her back, and then he was spanking her hard, and repeatedly. His palm slapped down on her bare bottom over and over, and he began to grunt with the effort it took to keep up the momentum.

Sarah Anne's mouth parted as a long, drawn out wail escaped her.

"You're a bad girl," Arthur seethed from between his teeth.




The Broken Mind Ch. 02



His palm connected with her pink behind again, and again until a sob escaped her throat. "Arthur! Stop!" she cried out. Biting her lip, she closed her eyes tightly as he let her have it.

When he finally stopped he was breathing heavy. "You wouldn't take a bath," he growled. "You're bad, and you need spanks."

Reaching out, he pulled the soft flesh of one butt cheek roughly to the side before lifting his other hand to press a finger against her tiny, clenched butt hole. With little regard or warning, he pushed it inside as far as it would go.

Sarah Anne's head came back as her neck arched, and another cry of painful surprise left her lips. She tried to quickly scurry across the bed to get away from him, but he grabbed her hips in his large hands and pulled her back until her bottom was pressed against his hips. 

Bending his knees, he thrust forward hard so that his pelvis rammed into her cheeks with a jolt. It made a soft exclamation of breath leave his throat, and digging his fingers into her hips he did it again.

When she felt him beginning to nudge his way between the soft globes with the head of his shaft, Sarah Anne almost strangled on her tongue as her eyes widened further.

Panicking, she lunged forward onto the bed until she was flat on her stomach, then rolled so that she landed on her back. Lifting her knees, she tried to kick out at her brother repeatedly in a frenzy of terror.

She managed to land several ineffective jabs with the heel of her foot, but the moment she started kicking her feet, he just as quickly reached down to try to control them. Within seconds he had her calves gripped in his large hands as he knelt on the bed between them.

"Stop it!" he growled. 

When he glared down at her, Sarah Anne returned it in full force.

"Roll over," he demanded.

Sarah Anne's scowl darkened. "No! You are not doing that to me again!" Struggling in his hold, Sarah Anne tried to free her legs so that she could escape.

Instead of gaining her freedom, he showed her how ineffectual her resistance was by pulling her towards him by her calves. Her body slid along the sheet of the bed as a growl of annoyance escaped his throat.

Once he had her positioned, he wrapped his fingers around his frighteningly large shaft, and squeezed it. "I want to put this in the hole," he announced gruffly.

Sarah Anne shook her head as she looked up at him. "I'm your sister. You don't do that to your sister. Let me go, Arthur!"

His brows furrowed as he stared down at her angrily. "I do it," he told her. "I want to do it!"

Leaning over her, he pressed his large palm into the mattress at her side to hold himself up, then awkwardly aimed the head of his erection between her legs. It jammed against her skin as he nudged, and prodded to try to gain entrance.

Sarah Anne lifted her hands to the front of his wide chest, and began pushing against him to make him stop. It only served to antagonize him as he glared down at her.

"Stop pushing me," he ordered.

"Get off of me!" Sarah Anne wailed in return.

He was endlessly searching for her opening by poking her with slight forward thrusts, but she wasn't prepared for insertion, and his poorly aimed prodding was causing her discomfort as he kept missing the appropriate place. 

He repeatedly jammed into the side of her soft lips, and then penetrated them to mash into her perineum, but he couldn't seem to find what he was looking for. 

After a moment he became frustrated, and started exploring it with his hands. His large finger roughly slid down the slit all the way to her cheeks, and then curled until it came into contact with her tightly puckered hole.

He had finally found the opening to the sweet spot of her ass, and a small laugh escaped him as he roughly forced his finger into it.

Sarah Anne immediately stilled as she tensed. Furrowing her brows, she bit down on her lip as her eyes closed.

His warm breath hit her in the face as he loomed over her. "I want this," he informed her. "I want to put it in there."

Sarah Anne shook her head in distress as she bit her lip harder. "Don't," she gasped.

Arthur frowned. Leaning back, he rested on his knees as he looked down at her. His thick shaft jutted proud, and erect towards his stomach. His dark eyes traveled in a circle for a moment as he contemplated what to do.

When his gaze fell on her once more, he seemed to have come to a decision. He met her wary blue eyes as his lips parted. "No. I want it," he said with finality.

Placing his large hands around the back of her thighs, he lifted them into the air roughly until her knees pushed up towards her chest. It lifted her whole bottom from the bed so that it rose into the air.

As Sarah Anne let out a cry of surprise, he quickly reached down to search out the cinched purse of her opening before leading the blunt head of his rigid erection to rest against it. Once the tip was nestled properly at the doorway, he pushed, and let out a grunt as it finally popped inside. 

With the crown of his appendage now buried inside of her, he reached down to grip the back of her thighs roughly to hold her in place as he leaned forward, and sank every inch of his shaft into her tight canal. 

It plunged deep, and Arthur continued to push until his pelvis was pressed firmly to the cheeks of her bottom. He let out a satisfied breath, and stilled to gaze down at her.

Sarah Anne had lost the ability to breathe altogether. Clawing at the sheets beside her, she felt her own knees pushing into her ribcage which created a level of discomfort she wasn't used to. Especially with her brother's fingers digging into the skin of her thighs to hold them in place. 

When his thick penis barreled it's way back into her aching body, Sarah Anne gasped in shock as it filled her. He felt huge as he stretched her wide, and invaded the cavity, and Sarah Anne let out a mewl of distress when he went as deep as he could go, and continued to push.

It was so much worse than the last time because now she was facing him, and she could see everything. His lips were parted, and his dark eyes were filled with concentration as he leaned above her. 

It made his dark hair fall forward so it partially obscured one of his eyes. She could see the lines of his broad shoulders, his naked chest, and the thin trail of hair that led down to his waist. Worst of all was the fact that she now had a front row view of him penetrating her.

Sarah Anne watched in horror as the base of his dick reemerged as he pulled slightly out of her anus before easing back in. With her bottom lifted in the air, and her spine arched, she could very clearly see every detail of his invasion. 

Her brother's dick was buried deep in her hole again, and now he was going to fuck her for the second time that day, and there was nothing she could do to stop him.

He slid in, and out slowly at first, seeming to adjust to the sensations of her clutching him, but after his body shuddered, he began thrusting rhythmically so that his hips repeatedly smacked tightly against her round bottom. He was beginning to pound her hole as he built up steam, and soft little grunts of pleasure began escaping him.

A cry of agony was ripped from her throat as his shaft pushed into her again and again, but he simply ignored it, and continued to plow into her.

"This is good," he rasped harshly. "I like having it in your butt."

"No! No! No!" Sarah Anne used all of the strength she had left in her to wriggle beneath him, but it only served to agitate him as his lunges became unsteady.

Baring his teeth, he snarled out a breath as he glared at her. "Stop moving," he complained. To emphasize his command, he lifted his large palm and cracked it down on her thigh.

"You fucking creep!" Sarah Anne choked. 

Her body rocked to the tempo of his hips connecting to her backside, and Sarah Anne winced with each plunge that forced it's way between her cheeks. Eventually she lay stiff, and unresisting beneath him as she gazed up into his dark, intense eyes. They held a faraway look as he focused intently on the middle of her forehead.

He kept going. The muscles in his arms bunched as he held her, and his pelvis began slapping a steady rhythm as he plunged in and out of her bottom. Having already ejaculated twice that morning, he seemed content to calmly thrust away while appearing as if the end was no where in sight.

It went on and on, and after five minutes Sarah Anne was still bent into position as his large member pumped into her anus. She was forced to watch it fill her every time that she opened her eyes. The pain had lessened slightly from the force of him repeatedly barreling into the tight hole, and now her cheeks eagerly spread to accept his invading shaft as he worked it into her.

A soft grunt escaped him now and then, but he continued to pump away. When five minutes turned into ten, Sarah Anne whimpered as she looked up at him. 

"Arthur, I need you to finish," she pleaded.

Another grunt escaped him as he continued to barrel into her ass. Lifting her fingers, Sarah Anne reached down touch his hand where it pressed into the back of her thigh. 

"I need you to spray your hot, sticky stuff into me, Arthur. My bottom can't take much more," she gasped.

He shook his dark head as he continued to thrust. His eyes closed. "No," he panted. "I'm not done."

Sarah Anne's mouth parted when he surged into her harder. Swallowing slowly, she rubbed his hand. "I need you to be done," she moaned.

Arthur shook his dark head again. "I like it in the hole. I want more," he breathed gruffly. Biting his bottom lip, his eyes lowered so that he could watch himself pushing into her.

"How long are you going to do it?" she asked as her voice broke.

The muscles of his ass steadily flexed as he pummeled her with his shaft. "I like doing it," he grunted. "It feels good in there."

A soft sound of distress escaped her lips as her head arched into the mattress. Turning her head to the side, her hands fisted upon the bed once more as his hips continued to punch against her cheeks. Closing her eyes tightly, her teeth gritted as he steadily fucked her for another five minutes.

Her poor hole continued to receive the onslaught of his thrusting penis while his stamina never wavered. Her eyes began to roll around in her head as she gasped beneath him.

"Arthur! I need you to cum!" she begged.

He was beginning to perspire, and a small laugh escaped him as he kept up his tempo. "No," he groaned. "I don't want to."

"Please!" she cried.

His response was a quick shake of his head, as his slippery fingers dug into her skin to grab a firmer hold. "I like this," he panted. "Just take it in your hole, and let me do it."

Sarah Anne was reaching the brink of losing it when a thought came to her in desperation. Looking up at her brother, she gazed into his dark eyes. "Put your fingers in my mouth, Arthur," she gasped.

His brows furrowed slightly as he continued to move. Her request obviously confused him. 

Reaching for his hand, she tried to pull it away from her thigh, and for a moment he resisted. When she continuously tugged at it, he finally relented, and she pulled his large hand towards her mouth. Parting her lips, she took his middle finger deep, and began to suck on it as her tongue swirled around. 

It made his eyes widen slightly, and a strangled groan escaped his lips. Encouraged, Sarah Anne sucked harder, and let a pleasure filled sound escape her before she began bobbing her lips up and down. 

She knew it was having the desired effect when his thrusts quickened, and he began violently ramming into her asshole. She sucked faster, and moaned.

His eyes grew larger before they closed tightly. A grimace passed over his features, and then hot rivets of cum shot from the tip of his cock to fill her well used hole. 

He continued to ride her relentlessly as he emptied himself inside of her. When the spurts finally came to an end, he stilled with his member buried deep, and quickly pulled his finger from her lips. There was a scowl upon his face as he looked down at her. 

"You made it end," he accused.

Sarah Anne sighed in relief. "Let go of my legs," she said with a frown.

His scowl darkened. "No."

Sarah Anne wriggled beneath him. "Arthur, you finished, let go of my legs!"

Holding onto her stubbornly, he thrust his hips forward. His member had softened inside of her, but she could still feel it as he made the movement.

Sarah Anne's eyes narrowed. "Santa can see you being bad, Arthur," she said gravely. 

His dark eyes were impassive as he looked down at her. "Santa isn't real, stupid."

His response made her snap, and she began bucking beneath him once again in an effort to dislodge him. A growl of rage escaped her throat as she used all of her strength to push against his hands by kicking out her legs.

The sudden movement from her was unexpected, and she easily succeeded. Her feet landed in the middle of his chest, and Arthur was thrown from the end of the bed when her heels connected with his rib cage. Scrambling to sit up, Sarah Anne bolted from his mattress the moment her feet touched the floor.

She just managed to catch the wince on her brother's face as he clutched his torso before she shot out of his bedroom like a bullet. She ran hell bent towards the kitchen, and zipped through it quickly. 

When she reached the attic stairs, she flew up them as fast as her feet could carry her, and her mouth dropped open at the state her bedroom was in when she reached the top of the landing.

Everything that she owned was in disarray. All of her boxes had been emptied onto the floor, and it looked like her brother had spent time just kicking everything around. Even her pillows and blankets had been pulled from her bed, leaving the mattress bare.

Shaking her head in disgust, Sarah Anne glanced around the mess until she spotted what she was looking for. Clothes. Swiping up a shirt from the floor near her bed, she gripped the hem of it in her hands so that she could slip her arms into it to pull it over her head.

Once it covered her, her blue eyes frantically searched for pants when she heard her brother stomping his way up the steps. Panicking, she quickly darted into the bathroom, and closed the door.

There was no lock. Just an old fashioned, brass knob. When it began to turn, her eyes widened, and she pressed her weight against the wood to try and keep him out. The door opened an inch before she shoved with all of her might to make it close again. 

Roughly three seconds passed, and then she was being flung backwards as his superior strength forced it wide open. Jumping back, Sarah Anne's eyes widened as she stared at her brother's naked form standing in the doorway. He was angry.

"You kicked me!" he snapped.

"You were hurting me!" she shot back.

"I did not!" he asserted.

"Yes, you did. Putting your thing in my bottom hurts!" she yelled.

Her words made him frown. "It does not," he insisted.

"Yes, it does!" she said with a stomp of her foot. "How would you like it done to you?"

He looked at her as if she had lost her mind. "You don't have a thing," he said suspiciously.

Sarah Anne crossed her arms over her chest. "No, I don't. If I did have one, I wouldn't force it into your butt, Arthur. It's mean."

Her words made him grin suddenly as he looked at her. "Feels good," he told her.

"Not to me!" Sarah Anne growled.

"It does too," he told her. "You're lying. I need to spank you again."

When he took a step towards her, Sarah Anne leapt away until she was trapped between him, and the wall. Lifting out a hand in front of his chest in an attempt to keep him at bay, she glared into his face as he paused.

"You touch me again, and I'm going to punch you in the face!" she told him with rising hysteria.

"No, you won't," he said with a scowl. "Stop trying to hurt me. I don't like it." His fingers absently ran over the spot where she had kicked him, and his eyes lowered to look between her legs at the soft tufts of blonde hair that covered her mound.

Her blue eyes widened as he tilted his head with interest. When he reached out a hand to touch her there, she slapped at it, and frowned. "Don't touch me," she snapped.

A low snarl of anger escaped Arthur as he turned to rip the shower curtain from it's holders. Throwing it to the floor in a tantrum, he turned back to face her as his chest lifted, and fell quickly. 

For an endless moment they stood glaring at one another, and then Arthur raised his fist to punch the wall beside her head. It made Sarah Anne gasp as she jerked in fear.

When his eyes met hers again they were filled with animosity as he stood before her in agitation. "I want to touch it," he bit out.

Cringing, Sarah Anne stared at him warily. "Okay," she whispered.

Dropping his dark eyes once more, he lifted his fingers to stroke against her pubic hair, and Sarah Anne held still while he did it. It was as if he were petting a small animal, and for a long moment she endured the strange attention while he fulfilled his curiosity.

"Why don't you have a thing?" he suddenly asked.

Sarah Anne's brows knitted for a moment before she responded. "I'm a girl," she told him. "Girls don't have things."

"What do girls have?" he wondered with another frown.

Sarah Anne took a shuddering breath. "We have vaginas," she told him quietly.

"I want to see it," he said bluntly.

Sarah Anne's eyes widened as she looked at his intent face. He was staring hard between her legs with a look of complete determination.

"There's nothing really to see," she assured him.

Her answer made him peer up at her suspiciously before his large hand reached out to push between her thighs. When he groped her awkwardly, she let out a gasp before reaching out to grab his arm to stop him. 

Her hold on it had little effect in deterring him as three of his large fingers pushed upwards into her slit. His face registered confusion for a moment, and then he wriggled them around making Sarah Anne gasp again. 

"Feels weird," he said with a frown.

"I'm sure it does," she said with a scowl. "Can you stop now?" 

Arthur didn't acknowledge her request by responding, and his fingers dug around further until one sunk into her entrance. When he felt it slide inwards, his eyes widened dramatically.

"You have another hole," he breathed in amazement.

Stepping closer, he pushed against it roughly until his middle finger sunk deep inside of her. When Sarah Anne let out a strangled cry, he lifted his dark eyes to meet hers.

"I want this hole," he told her in a straight forward manner.

Pulling his hand from between her legs, he bent down to lift her from the ground until her slender form was draped over his shoulder. Turning around, he left the bathroom, and entered her room to carry her to the bed.

Sarah Anne barely had time to struggle before she was dumped upon it abruptly before her brother bounded onto it after her. Pressing her knees apart with his large hands, he sidled between them, and then pressed a palm into the center of her stomach to keep her in place.

When she gazed down, she could see that he had taken his soft member in his hand, and was attempting to stroke it back to life. His thick fingers wrapped around the base, and he slid them up and down quickly until it thickened, and hardened before her eyes.

When the knob lifted erectly to point between her thighs, Sarah Anne's eyes widened as she shook her head.

"Please," she begged. "Please, Arthur." Her head pressed into the mattress, and a rough sob left her lips.

Her pleas fell on deaf ears, and then his palm left her stomach to press into the bed at her side. Still gripping himself, he lowered his large frame on top of her, and began shoving the spongy head of his shaft against her gash. 




The Broken Mind Ch. 02



A look of concentration passed over his features until he found the entrance, and then his face cleared when the tip slipped inside. Releasing his hold on his thick member, his other hand pressed into the bed, and then he was slowly sinking the entire length inside of her as he pushed his hips forward.

He stretched her open to accommodate his girth, and a soft breath escaped him once he had completely filled her. He was buried deep, and his large testicles now rested against her bottom.

Sarah Anne's mouth parted wordlessly as he sunk between her thighs, and then a strangled sound emerged from her throat when he began to move. His thrusts were slow, and forceful. 

He was holding the majority of his weight up with his strong arms, but his hips sank heavily into hers with each surge he made between her spread legs.

A grunt of exertion passed from his mouth as he stared straight ahead through the window beside the bed. "This hole is tight," he said thickly.

Sarah Anne's legs shook as he pressed between them. Her blue eyes were wide, and her mouth trembled as she looked up at him. "You're too big, Arthur," she gasped.

His swollen appendage was growing larger with each stroke he made into her hot canal, and soon the size of his engorged cock was becoming massaged by the walls deep inside of her. They began to clutch onto his shaft as he forced it in with rhythmic thrusts. 

Sarah Anne had never felt so full. He was relentlessly pumping into her vagina, and her traitorous body quickly became slick to make his violation more accommodating. There was so much of him, and it was pressing into every sensitive nerve ending inside of her. Unlike his abusive, and painful treatment of her bottom, this didn't hurt.

The realization that her brother's dick was, albeit unwillingly arousing her body, made a cry of anguish fall from her lips. "Arthur, pull it out!" she sobbed.

In defiance he began pounding into her harder, and faster. Sarah Anne let out another cry as she lifted her hands to grip his shoulders. "It's so big," she gasped. 

He had built up steam, and was now plunging into her at a steady pace. Never pausing, his stamina was continuous after so many previous exertions. 

Sarah Anne gasped as her eyes lowered, and she peered down to where their hips met. Her brother's thick base was covered in her sticky wetness, and she could see it glistening on the lower portion of his cock when it would emerge before barreling into her again. She fought the desire to moan as she watched him fill her.

The muscles in his ass, and thighs flexed repeatedly while he moved, and with another gasp, Sarah Anne became aware that he wasn't going to stop anytime soon. The thought sent fear racing along her veins as her body grew tenser with each passing moment.

"Please, you're going to make me... Oh God!" Her fingers dug into his shoulders harder as she bit down viciously on her lip. She was so close. Just on the edge of physical release. He was completely oblivious to her plight as he continued to ram deep.

"Arthur," she gasped. "If you love me you'll stop."

A turbulent growl passed from his lips. "I love this hole," he informed her.

The gruff pleasure that resounded in his voice made her unravel. Clamping her thighs to his hips she began to twitch, and pulsate around his throbbing member. It went on endlessly while he fucked her through it.

When the intense gratification came to an end, and the waves of euphoria had finished, he wasn't. Her brief clutching moment had barely slowed him down, and now that her thighs were parted once more, he continued to bang into her at his leisure.

In a daze, she lay beneath him with her fingers loosely on his shoulders while he thrust into her. For thirty minutes he rode between her thighs, alternately grunting, and allowing his breath to seethe from between his clenched teeth.

His dark hair was beginning to dampen with perspiration, and Sarah Anne gazed up helplessly at his strangely intense eyes as her insides began to tighten once more.

"Fuck," she panted. "I'm going to cum again, you evil little shit."

His dark eyes peered down at her after the words passed her lips. They narrowed in confusion for a moment, and then he laughed.

"FUCK!" he snarled loudly. His hips rammed into her hard. "FUCK FUCK FUCK!"

Sarah Anne's blue eyes widened as he gazed down at her wearing a cruel expression. His hands left the bed, and clasped around her throat before he squeezed lightly. "FUCK!!" he screamed into her face.

Her breath halted in her chest as she watched him heave with the effort it took to fill his lungs. When his eyes crinkled, and he began to laugh again, his sister's eyes widened further.

"You are fucking insane," she whispered.

"I am fucking fuck!" he belted out, and then he squeezed her throat harder. For a moment, Sarah Anne panicked when her airways were cut off, but he quickly eased his grip, and then released her throat.

Easing down on top of her, he let his weight lie heavily on her frame, and then he curled his hands beneath her arms to grip her shoulders so that he could surge into her harder. The feel of it made a soft breath escape Sarah Anne before she closed her eyes, and tilted her head back.

His movements were pushing her nerve endings into over drive, and with a rolling of her eyes, she reached up to grasp onto his strong back tightly as she began to pulsate once again.

Her eyes closed tightly, and her lips pressed together while her thighs clamped around him. "Oh God," she panted.

His mouth was pressed into his hand above her shoulder. "Fuck," he grunted in response.

He moved on top of her in a continuous rhythm as Sarah Anne convulsed around him, and it didn't halt once she finally slumped beneath him.

With a sense of panic she knew that her over sensitized body couldn't handle much more. He was still pumping inside of her, still solidly hard, and she couldn't physically take the stimulation anymore.

Lifting her bottom, she began meeting his thrusts. Her hand lifted to his head, and she slipped her fingers through his dark hair to caress him. Her head turned, and her lips latched onto the side of his neck as she began to lick and suck his skin.

"I need you to cum, Arthur," she moaned. Pulling his earlobe into her mouth, she began to run her tongue over it before nipping it with her teeth. He tensed on top of her, and a quick breath was expelled from his chest.

"Cum in my hole. I want you to," she whispered. "It will feel so good." With another flick of her tongue she began to suck on the skin of his ear while her hips surged against his.

A strangled sound of pleasure was torn from him while she fucked him. Their bodies pounded together in unison, and Sarah Anne began eliciting deeply sensual moans while her hands moved over his back. 

"Cum in my hole, Arthur," she urged him again.

"Okay," he panted. 

His movements quickened until he was hammering between her thighs, forcing a genuine deep throated moan from his sister. When he began to slam into her so fast that she couldn't keep up with him, she stilled her attempts to lift her hips, and wrapped her legs around him instead.

He began to cry out as he brought himself to the edge. "Ah! Fuck! Ah! FUCK FUCK!"

The entire bed, and everything in the room shook with the force he used to fuck her to completion. His cock head began to spurt, and he pushed into her violently, and stilled. His entire body shuddered as he emptied himself between her legs. When he finally finished he collapsed on top of her in exhaustion.

He laid there for a moment breathing heavily, and then he lifted his head to look down at her. Their eyes met, and he stared at her curiously for a moment before lifting his weight off of her frame. Slipping from the bed, he turned to stride towards the stairs.

Sarah Anne winced as she sat up. "You are such a jerk, you know that?" she told his retreating back.

His hand had lifted to the rail to descend the stairs, but he turned to look at her after she made the comment. Approaching the bed once again he made her gasp when he pressed his palms down on either side of her, and bent towards her so that their faces were only a few inches apart.

Leaning in, he pressed his mouth to hers briefly. When he pulled back to look into her surprised face he smiled. 

"That felt good," he informed her. "I love you now," he stated matter of factly.

Sarah Anne gazed at him in disbelief as she shook her head slowly.

His dark brows lifted as he continued to smile. "Can I eat now? I'm hungry."



The Broken Mind



While he was distracted, Sarah Anne quickly pulled her panties up over her sore bottom before slipping from the bed. Grabbing up her blue jeans, she shuffled into them as fast as she could while keeping a wary eye on her brother's wide back.

Once she was fully clothed, she stood behind him, her heart tattooing a beat against her chest. "It's time to go downstairs, Arthur," she said with a tremble.

Without turning or responding, he quickly shuffled down the stairs, and Sarah Anne sighed in relief as he left her alone in the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was sitting in the middle of the living room floor watching television when she found him. Tom and Jerry were chasing each other around, and he seemed to be completely entranced as she walked over to stand beside him.

"Arthur, you can't come into the attic again. That's my room up there, and what you did was just... well, it was wrong."

A moment passed without him acknowledging her words or her presence. When Sarah Anne began to wonder if he was aware that she was even there, he turned his head and looked at her directly.

"I'm hungry," he stated flatly.

Sarah Anne gazed into his impassive dark eyes for a moment before responding. "What would you like to eat?"

He seemed to think it over for a moment, then looked back towards the television. "Pancakes."

When he said nothing further, Sarah Anne let out a sigh, and turned away from him to enter the kitchen. 

Perusing the cabinets, she frowned slightly as it became apparent that her mother hadn't stocked any mix. Without the mix, making pancakes was definitely not an option. 

Her quick search through the pantry didn't offer up any better suggestions, but when she pulled open the door to the freezer, she quickly spotted a box of Eggo brand waffles sitting on the top shelf. It would have to do.

Slipping two into the toaster, she stepped back towards the fridge in search of butter, and maple syrup. Luckily, her mother had both. 

When the Eggos popped up toasty, and golden she slathered a dab of butter across them with a knife, then upturned the bottle of maple syrup, and drizzled a few lines over the top of them. 

Reaching into the utensil draw for a fork, she set it on top of the plate, and placed it onto the kitchen table.

"Arthur!" she called. "Your breakfast is ready!"

He bounded into the kitchen quickly, his large frame surprisingly lithe. His dark eyes were lit up in anticipation, until he spotted the plate that sat on top of the table. His eyes met hers accusingly. 

"Pancakes!" he demanded loudly.

Sarah Anne looked at him in surprise. "There isn't any mix, Arthur. This was the best that I could do."

His face scrunched in annoyance as he glared at the waffles, and a soft grunt of irritation escaped his lips. Shifting his eyes back to her, he lifted a finger, and pointed at her. "You are bad," he told her rudely.

Sarah Anne gasped at the snide way he addressed her. "I am not bad. There wasn't any mix. How am I supposed to make you pancakes if we don't have any mix?"

"You said you would make them," he accused as if she had betrayed him.

Letting out a breath of frustration, Sarah Anne rolled her eyes. "Just eat the waffles, Arthur."

"No," he refused petulantly. "You eat them."

"I don't want them," she returned patiently.

"You made them! You eat them!" he hollered. "You're bad! Eat them!"

Rolling her eyes again, Sarah Anne made to pass him. "This is ridiculous."

His large hand came out to grip her around her upper arm so that she was unable to escape. Yanking her back towards the table, he pointed at the plate as she stumbled beneath his hold. "Eat!" he ordered.

In an attempt to pacify him, Sarah Anne lifted a gooey waffle from the plate, and lifted it to her lips to take a small bite. Chewing it a little she lowered it to look at him. "There. Happy?" 

He grunted in response as he looked at her. Then, to her surprise he slapped the waffle from her hand sending it falling to the floor. His dark eyes narrowed. "You need to be punished."

Sarah Anne would have run if she had been able to. His words sent a cold chill down her spine, but with his meaty fist wrapped around her bicep she knew she didn't have any chance of freeing herself. 

Instead, her eyes widened in terror as he pulled her closer to the table, bending her over it so that she lay prone next to his breakfast. 

"I'll spank you good," he told her gruffly, then pressed his palm into her spine to hold her in place.

Sarah Anne fought not to panic as her stomach was pressed against her mother's lace table cloth. She had just gone through this scenario, and knew that fighting against his strength wasn't going to do her much good. She had to reason with him.

Her words came out in a rush as her breath hitched inside of her. "Arthur? Wouldn't you much prefer candy? I think I have some in my purse. If you let me go, I can go get it?"

Her offer seemed to make him pause for a moment as he contemplated what to do. "I like candy," he finally said.

A sigh of relief escaped Sarah Anne as she entreated him further. "It's good candy. I have to go get it. Can you let me go?"

"Spanking first," he grunted stubbornly.

His large palm came cracking down on her sore bottom, and Sarah Anne winced at the sting of it through her jeans. She was already so tender that it made it seem worse than it actually was. When he struck her again she cried out.

"You little shit," she growled. "Fucking let me go!"

"You swore," he said in amazement.

"That's because you're hurting me! Now fucking let me go!"

"You're a bad girl. Bad girls get spanked. You also swore which is bad. More spankings." He emphasized his words with another slap against her rear end making Sarah Anne grit her teeth.

Gripping the waistband of her jeans in his fingers, he tugged down on it roughly, but the fact that they were buttoned held them in place making Arthur growl in aggravation as he yanked on them harder. 

"Pants down!" he whined loudly.

In that moment Sarah Anne was never more glad that she liked to wear tight jeans. Unless he unbuttoned them, there was no way that they were going to budge.

Tugging on them again, Arthur made little progress other than causing the air to leave his sister's chest as the front of them heaved into her stomach.

Releasing them, he snarled in irritation. "Make them go down!" he demanded.

"No!" She felt a small amount of triumph until he gripped the thin material of her shirt in his large fist, and yanked on it roughly in his anger. The material tore in half making her gasp.

"Make them go down!" he repeated louder.

"I won't do it!" she told him fiercely. 

Sarah Anne heard his bellow of rage before she felt his body lean over hers. She felt a moment of confusion until she felt his mouth part over her shoulder before his teeth sunk down into her skin. He bit her hard making her cry out with pain, and surprise. 

When he stopped she could feel his heavy breath beside her ear. "Do it!"

"No! Get off of me, you mental case!"

His sharp teeth sunk into her again, and Sarah Anne screamed in pain. 

"Do it!" he snarled again. 

Closing her eyes in defeat, Sarah Anne brought her fingers to her waist, and flipped open the button to her jeans. After she had pulled the zipper down, she lifted her hands back to the table top while her whole body began to shake with trepidation.

Leaning back, Arthur kept his palm flat against her spine as his dark eyes traveled down to the top of her waistband. Taking it in his hand once more, he smiled happily when he pulled on it, and it began to ease away from her bottom.

With a rough yank, he pulled them all the way down to her knees until he was staring at the pale pink cotton of her panties. Quickly tearing those down as well, his eyes widened as they perused the large red blotches that covered her bare ass. 

Touching it with the tips of his fingers he was surprised by how hot it was, and his digits poked the inflamed skin as Sarah Anne winced beneath him.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked in confused horror.

Ignoring her he poked her again making her right cheek dimple. The fleshy skin sunk inwards distorting the round shape of her backside, and Arthur let out a small laugh as he poked her again. 

Sarah Anne groaned in disbelief as she peered back at him. He seemed completely absorbed in the task at hand as he repeatedly pushed his index finger into her plump cheek.

It occurred to her that maybe if she stayed quiet long enough, and let him go about his strange task, that maybe he would forget he was supposed to be brutalizing her, and he might let her go. 

Biting her lip, she rested her head back on the table, and held perfectly still while he touched her.

She became passive beneath him while he poked, and plucked at her bottom, letting him do as he pleased. It wasn't until she felt something strange and warm prodding her that she lifted her head to look back, and gasped in horror to see him standing with his pants open, his shaft in his hand, and his head lowered while he jabbed the mushroom head into the cheek of her bottom.

"Arthur! Stop that! What are you doing?"

He raised his eyes guiltily to meet hers, pausing his movements. She could feel that he was stiff by the hardness of what was poking her skin, and her eyes widened at the predicament she was now in. 

"You can't do that, Arthur. It's bad!"

He frowned slightly at her words, and seemed to be thinking hard. When he lifted his dark eyes to hers, he was slightly hesitant. 

"It's for spanking." 

To prove his words he lifted his shaft away from her cheek then slapped her skin with it. It was a light tap that had little effect at all, but the fact that he had done it frightened Sarah Anne more than anything he had done so far. Her brother had just spanked her with his dick.

"Put that away, Arthur. That's not for spankings. You can't touch me with that. It's wrong, and mom would be very angry if she saw you."

A small smile lifted his lips as he looked at her. "Mom is not here." Jerking his wrist slightly, his shaft smacked into her again.

With that self satisfied smirk on his face he could almost pass for any normal, typical guy, Sarah Anne thought briefly. He didn't look mentally disabled after all. Everything that was wrong with him was purely upstairs. 

Physically, he resembled what he was. A nineteen year old boy. Anyone who was to look at him would instantly mistake him for just that, and Sarah Anne briefly recalled a few circumstances where that exact thing had happened when they were younger, and she'd had to explain his strange behavior. The response had always been the same. It was a shame since he was such a nice looking boy.

Nice looking or not, he was still a mental case, and Sarah Anne had tried to fight resentment towards him for most of her life.

Anytime she had wanted anything, anytime she had needed anything, her brother had always come first. With her mother's time, with her mother's finances, with everything. Even though Sarah Anne had understood, the sting of always taking second place to her little brother had left her feeling alone for most of her life. 

It's why she hadn't hesitated to leave home at seventeen when her boyfriend had asked her to move in with him. She had needed to escape.

When he roughly jammed his erection into the cheek of her ass, then slapped her with it several times, Sarah Anne gasped. She had no idea if he knew what sex was or not, but her fear began to grow as he became more aggressive.

When he smacked into her again, he used his hips, and she could feel the length of him smash into the crevice between her cheeks on impact. His palm smacked into the side of her bottom sharply, making her breath leave her as he rubbed himself against her.

"Ar...thur!" she stammered. "Please don't do this!"

In response, he slid the length of his shaft up and down the crack of her ass before he began to hump her. His hips began rhythmically pumping against both cheeks as low grunts escaped him. 

"I'm punishing you good," he stated thickly. Bending his knees, he surged into her hard making Sarah Anne's body jerk along the table.

A cry of anguish escaped her when the impact forced her brother's hard length vertically between her cheeks so that his heavy balls were pushed against her folds. When he began humping her again she could feel them lightly slapping her while he grunted above her.

For roughly five minutes he rode her relentlessly, pounding away at her bottom, but he seemed to grow frustrated with the teasing stimulation, and pulled back to circle himself with his fingers. 

Stroking the shaft while jabbing her with the tip, his fingers trailed down her spine to grip a handful of her ass roughly in his palm as he worked himself over.

He began kneading her flesh. Squeezing, and pulling on it as Sarah Anne whimpered beneath him. Slapping it playfully, he moved his hand to the valley between her cheeks, and tilted his palm sideways to push all of his fingers into the crevice. Sarah Anne jerked as she felt them rudely push there way in. 

He seemed to be fascinated by the heat, and moisture he found there. Letting go of himself, he used both hands to pull her cheeks apart roughly so he could peer inside. 

The feel of him harshly exposing her to his view made Sarah Anne sob out another cry. "Don't!"

He was confused, and wasn't quite sure what he was looking at. Reaching inside, he pushed two fingers against her puckered hole, and became amazed when it opened for him just the slightest bit, and his fingers sunk inside half an inch.

Sarah Anne tensed at the invasion. "Oh God, stop!" 

Rearing back, she was able to almost stand before his palm came out to push her back down to the table. Holding her in place again, his fingers wriggled slightly, and sunk in another half inch into her rectum.

Her body latched onto him tightly, and as he relentlessly pushed further, Sarah Anne let out a strangled moan as they filled her all the way. Two of his fingers were now buried in her ass, and she began to hyperventilate as he began to move them around.

"It hurts, Arthur!" she groaned. "Take them out!"

He quickly complied, and pulled them from her aching hole making Sarah Anne sigh in relief. Then he pried her cheeks apart again, and just stared at it.

She knew what he was going to do even before she felt it. Her brother was going to fuck her in the ass. If she didn't do something quick he was going to start plowing into her virgin hole in no time.

"Did you hear that car pull into the driveway, Arthur? I think mom is home. You had better stop before she catches you."

Turning his head, he seemed to listen for a moment. When nothing could be heard he turned back to her. 

"It's not dark out. Mom is at work. You're lying because you're bad. I'm punishing you for being bad, and you're trying to get away."

"That's not true!" Sarah Anne wailed. "I can really hear her!"

"I don't hear sounds," Arthur said gruffly before nudging his cock head against her cheeks. 

Gripping the base in his hand, he inched forward until he was directly behind her, and began prodding the slice in her backside. 

Getting between the soft, pale globes seemed to be giving him some difficulty. Reaching down, he roughly pulled one of her cheeks to the side, and aimed his tip at the tiny hole he had found.

"Arthur! This isn't a spanking!" she cried out in terror.

Pressing his knob to the opening, he lunged forward powerfully until his shaft was buried inside of her all of the way. A strangled moan escaped his throat at the feel of it as Sarah Anne shrieked in agony. 

For a moment he stood motionless, his head tilted back, his eyes closed as he luxuriated in the feel of her hot and tight clutching around him. The intensity of it made his jaw go slack. Clenching his backside, he shuddered.

"Oh God! Oh God! Someone help me!" Sarah Anne sobbed.

Lifting his head, Arthur gazed down between their bodies. "I'm in your butt," he announced.

"I know! It hurts!" Sarah Anne growled at him.

"Feels good," Arthur returned. "Time for spankings."

Pulling back the slightest bit, he smacked into her bottom with his hips sending his thick shaft barreling into her tight hole. 

Another strangled groan escaped his throat, and his entire body tensed. His large hands gripped her hips, digging into them painfully, and he began savagely thrusting against her, forcefully making her take every inch. 

He punctuated every impact with her bottom by following it with a pleasure filled grunt. 

After a few hysterical sobs Sarah Anne grew quiet as she lay rigid beneath him. Her eyes were closed tightly, and her hands fisted on the table as he roughly fucked her where no man had ever been before.

He grew more and more aggressive as he pounded into her, his body a highly aroused weapon. When he finally started to cum, a primal and frightening roar exploded from his lips. 

Sarah Anne could feel him spurting deep inside of her, releasing a hot gush of stickiness that seemed to fill her endlessly. When he was finally empty, and had no more to give, he slipped his softened cock from her battered hole, and let out a sigh of fulfillment.

After closing his pants, he reached down to pick up the waffle from the plate, then turned to leave the kitchen so that he could return to watching his cartoons.

Sarah Anne slumped to the kitchen floor. Her torn shirt slid down her arms as she brought her hands up to cover her face. Her chest began to heave as she fell apart. Tears slid down her face unchecked as the volume on the television grew louder while Daffy Duck and Bugs Bunny began to argue.

"Oh God," she sobbed. "Why is this happening to me?"

Pulling herself from the kitchen floor, she ran up the attic stairs. 



The Broken Mirror



Author's note:

This story is a follow up of sorts to Evergreen Kiss. Sarah and Meaghan make an appearance, and are a catalyst for the events of the story, but they're not the main characters.

The story isn't a quick read; if you're looking for that, move on.

~~~

Christine picked the phone up from her desk and looked at the incoming caller id. 989 area code. Her thumb hovered over the ignore button for a second or two - better to let it go to voice mail. There was absolutely nobody she wanted to talk to in Michigan. But some instinct changed her mind, so instead she tucked her hair behind her ear pressed the answer button.

"This is Christine Wainwright."

"Hi, Chrissy. It's Meaghan. Meaghan Williams."

Christine's heart jumped into her throat. Meaghan was her only real friend in high school, and the only unreservedly good memory she had of her childhood before getting on the plane to go to Stanford. Meaghan's voice stirred up a hornets' nest of emotions - there was joy, certainly, but it was mixed with guilt for not speaking to Meaghan since high school, and a host of bad memories. Thinking about the past was something Christine tried to avoid.

Christine tried to keep her voice steady and not emotional, and had a hard time. "Oh my god, Meaghan. How are you? It's been forever."

"I'm good. I know I'm two years late, but I've been meaning to call you and congratulate you on getting married. The wedding pictures you posted on Facebook were beautiful. You looked amazing in your dress, and your husband is quite handsome."

Even more guilt. Christine had agonized for days about whether to invite Meaghan to the wedding, and in the end decided not to. As much as she wanted Meaghan there, having someone who reminded her about the bad parts of her life at a time that was supposed to be happy was just too much.

"I'm so sorry I didn't invite you. . ."

"It's okay. Really. I know how much you wanted to leave your past behind when you went away to college, and I respected that. Besides, I had a lot going on in my life then too."

It was hard to tell for sure over the phone, but Christine couldn't hear any blame or hurt in Meaghan's voice, and the knot that had been tightening in her stomach eased away.

Meaghan continued "Anyway, the reason I called is that I'm going to be in DC in a few weeks, and I was hoping maybe we could get together for dinner or something."

"I'd love to - that would be really great."

Christine let the flood of relief and happiness get a little ahead of her, and she added "You should come out and see the house and have dinner with us. I'll cook."

That was not something Christine ever did. Business meetings and even social dinners were always at a restaurant, usually in the city rather than out by the house. Her husband Bob did have people from the Senator's office over for dinner from time to time, and even the Senator himself once, but those occasions were always meticulously planned and catered. The only social gatherings at the house were Bob's buddies coming over for the occasional weekend football game or backyard cookout. Bob, a fifth generation North Carolina native, would NOT call grilling burgers a barbecue. Christine usually put out the food, drove to her office in the city, and didn't come back until the guys were gone.

Meaghan replied in the warm tone Christine remembered from high school as her happy voice "That sounds lovely."

"So what brings you to DC?"

"Just being a tourist. I got married too, about the same time you did, and we've never really taken a big vacation together. The nation's capital seems like kind of an amazing place, something you should visit at least once in your life, and neither one of us has ever been."

"Wow. Congratulations. I'm really happy for you. Who is . . ." Christine let her voice trail off - she didn't know which pronoun to use. She still remembered, as clear as any day of her life, that afternoon in Meaghan's bedroom when Meaghan kissed her. Christine suspected Meaghan had married a woman, but she didn't know for sure.

"Her name is Sarah, and she's wonderful. She's a software developer at the company where I work. We didn't share wedding pictures with the world or anything - life is a little more complicated for us than for straight couples - but I'm really happy with her and what we have together."

Christine could hear a bliss in Meaghan's voice that she almost envied. Her own marriage was exactly what she wanted, but she couldn't imagine her voice ever sounding like that.

Meaghan continued in a more matter of fact tone "So I'll send you an email with our schedule. We have a couple of evenings already planned, but we're free for most of the week. And we're fine with whatever you want to do - going out somewhere or coming to your house. It'll just be nice to see you again, Chrissy."

"Sounds great, Meaghan. I'll let you know in a few days which night works for us. I'm really looking forward to seeing you again, and I'm sure Bob will be happy to meet you both."

"Okay. Bye, Chrissy. It was really good to talk to you again."

"Bye, Meaghan. You too."

Christine hung up the phone, and she was on a happy cloud for the rest of the day. She had only had three or four close friends in her life, and not keeping in touch with Meaghan was her one big regret. She meant what she said about having Meaghan and Sarah to the house for dinner. More than anybody else, she wanted to show Meaghan what that girl from the trailer park in Michigan had achieved for herself.

~~~

Christine got home at six and started cooking. She had an agreement with Bob that each of them would cook dinner at least once a week, and Christine stuck to it almost every week, even if Bob didn't. The firm had her for way too many hours, and she needed to set a few boundaries for herself. Morning workouts were one, and cooking dinner was another.

She was never a very good cook - she never had anybody to learn from - but she was working her way through a shelf of well-reviewed cookbooks, and could at least produce competent renditions of most of the American basics. That's generally what Bob wanted to eat anyway, so it worked out. Tonight was meatloaf, mashed potatoes and broccoli. She had wanted to try something new, but after her conversation with Meaghan, she was very happy and a little distracted, so easy comfort food was what she was looking for.

When the meatloaf was in the oven, Christine went upstairs and changed from her gray work suit into a comfy old blue cotton dress. It was one of her favorites, and she noted with a little pride that it still fit the same way it had in college. She breathed a little sigh of relief at being out of her nylons - she never liked wearing them, but she preferred skirts and dresses to pants suits at work, and the nylons were a necessary evil. She unclipped the barrette from the back of her head and shook her head to let her brown hair down, and then brushed it out. It had gotten just past her shoulders - time for a haircut.

Christine leaned over her dresser and looked in the mirror to check her makeup. The mirror was a large mahogany-framed oval, with an elaborate carving at the crown. The glass was original, close to a hundred years old, and there were ripples in it that distorted the reflection a little. It had belonged to her great-grandfather, and then to her great-aunt, and it was the one thing Christine had brought with her after her great-aunt moved from the mobile home into the nursing home. She didn't like the thing that much, but it was all she had left of her family.

She touched up her lipstick, and fussed with her hair a little more. Christine made a point of always looking nice around the house for her husband. Whether he appreciated it or even noticed was beside the point. She went downstairs to finish dinner, still smiling about her afternoon phone call.

Bob walked in the door around seven forty, just a few minutes later than he said he would be, and he immediately knew what was for dinner. "That smells like meatloaf, hon. I think you've just made my day." He had a big smile on his face as he went in the fridge to pull out a beer.

"I thought you might like it. Guess who called me today."

Bob shrugged and asked "Who called you today?"

"My friend Meaghan from high school. I hadn't spoken to her since I left that little town I used to call home."

"I thought you didn't have any friends in high school, at least none worth telling me about."

"I had one friend - Meaghan. I've told you about her, more than once. Anyway, she's coming to DC in a couple of weeks, and wanted to get together."

"Super - that'll be fun. You always have me at a disadvantage, knowing all my buddies, and I don't know anybody from your past except that couple up in Philadelphia."

"Well, I don't think even you can charm much dirt out of her about me in high school. I really didn't do anything worth talking about."

"We'll see 'bout that, hon. We'll see."

"Anyway, I invited them to house. I said I'd cook dinner for them."

"Oh, really? That's the first time you ever invited anybody to the house. You must be getting more confident in the kitchen. It'll be nice to have guests. That meatloaf smells great, by the way, and I'm hungry."

Christine finished putting the plates together and set them on the table. She really did feel more confident about her cooking ability.

As she sat down, she said with a grin "You don't have to eat the broccoli if you don't want it, but I'm still putting it on your plate." Bob ignored her, with the same grin.

A few satisfied bites in, Bob asked "She married? You said you invited 'them'."

"Yes, she's married. They live in Seattle and they both work for a software company out there. Her wife's name is Sarah."

Bob paused, a chunk of meatloaf suspended from his fork, and stared at Christine. "Her wife? Are you saying they're homosexuals?"

"I suppose they are. I didn't really think anything of it." Christine had thought quite a bit about it, but she certainly wasn't going to tell her husband.

"Now Christine, you know I can't have those kind of people in my house. The Senator's position on the marriage issue is quite firm, and all the rest, as you well know. How would it look if his legislative director had two married homosexuals in his home for dinner? It's bad enough that you socialize with your doctor friend Anne. At least she's discreet about her lifestyle."

Christine started to get a little defensive and hurt. "It's not like there are going to be TV cameras around when they come. But I suppose you're right. I knew when I married you that everything was going to be political, including some things that shouldn't be. I'll offer to take them to dinner somewhere in the city. You don't have to come if you don't want to."

She let the remark about Anne go. Christine honestly didn't have any idea about her orientation - Anne hadn't talked about dating anyone the whole time Christine had known her. And if she was gay, so what?

Bob replied with a smile "I appreciate that, hon. I know there are things about the life of a public figure that you don't like, and I'm sorry, but we all have to make sacrifices." It seemed to Christine that the 'all' in that sentence was mostly her.

Her happy bubble of the day popped, and Christine smiled weakly at her husband and finished her dinner in silence. She couldn't keep herself from thinking "You're not a public figure, you pompous ass; you're, generously, third in command on the staff of a public figure." She didn't like thinking ill of her husband, but sometimes she couldn't help it.

~~~

The next afternoon at work, an email from Meaghan popped into Christine's inbox, and some of the happiness from the day before returned. It really would be nice to see Meaghan again, even if it couldn't be quite the way she wanted.

Meaghan and Sarah would be in town Sunday night through the next Saturday. Christine wanted to pick an evening early in their trip, so they would have the option to do something else if everybody wanted to. She suggested Monday night at a pub not far from her office. It had good access to the metro, since they weren't renting a car; it was casual, so they wouldn't have to dress up; and it was a fun place - good atmosphere, not too loud, good food and good beer.

Christine didn't mention that her husband would not be coming, and felt a little bad about it. She'd make an excuse later. Meaghan replied the next day and said that sounded great, and Christine was back on her happy cloud for the rest of the week.

~~~

That Friday night, Christine planned to have dinner with Anne. Anne was her best friend, the way Meaghan had been in high school. They tried to get together at least once every week or two, even with their crazy schedules. It was usually just the two of them - Bob always seemed to have dinner meetings with people from work. Christine guessed Bob didn't like Anne very much, although he never said anything beyond that crack at dinner about her lifestyle.

Bob was on a hunting trip for the weekend with some of his buddies from back home, a lot of whom also worked in the Senator's office. Christine understood hunting for food - one of her neighbors in Michigan had supplemented his food stamps with some birds and small animals he brought home. But she thought what Bob did was barbaric - more about killing than about need. Bob's buddy Mike did a good job of dressing and cooking the deer, and that made Christine feel a little better about it, but not much.

When Bob called from the truck as the guys left town, Christine said, like she always did, "Have fun killing Bambi!" Bob was too clueless to know it was anything more than gentle teasing.

Christine looked forward to dinner that night with Anne even more than she usually did. She needed to spend some time with a real friend. She loved Bob, but sometimes he was tough to be around, and she needed to talk to somebody about all the feelings Meaghan's call had stirred up.

They went to the same pub where Christine was going to meet Meaghan and Sarah. It was comfortable and easy, just what they both needed. Christine arrived first and grabbed a booth in the back of the place, where it was a little quieter and there were no TVs showing sports. Anne got there about fifteen minutes later, apologizing as she sat down "Sorry - shift was long and crazy, and I had to shower and change. Let's just say I won't be wearing those scrubs again."

Christine replied with a happy smile "It's okay - you're here now. I had my laptop out cleaning up email until just before you got here."

Anne flagged down a waitress and they got two beers and a bowl of peanuts in the shell, and menus so they could order dinner. They chatted easily about random things for a while. Anne did most of the talking - some of the things that come into the ER can be quite entertaining, if not always appropriate for the dinner table.

As they were finishing dinner, Christine told Anne about the big thing on her mind. "I got a call, out of the blue, from my high school friend Meaghan. I was really excited - she's the only person I actually miss from that part of my life. She's going to be in DC in a week, and I invited her out to the house for dinner."

"Cool - that should be really nice for you."

Frustration replaced the happiness in Christine's voice. "It would be, but Bob was kind of a jerk, so we're coming here instead. Without Bob. Meaghan is married, to a woman, and Bob kind of freaked out about that. I know he works for Senator Family Values and all that, but I just don't see the problem."

Anne's face turned bright red, but Christine didn't notice in the dim light of the pub. "Well okay then. Is she bringing her, um, wife with her?"

"Yeah. Her wife's name is Sarah, and they work together at a software company in Seattle. She sounded really happy on the phone."

Christine paused for a moment and then asked "Would you come with me? I'm kind of nervous about meeting her again, and I'd like to have somebody else with me. You don't have to, though, if it makes you uncomfortable."

It did make Anne a little uncomfortable, but she answered "Of course I'll come if you want me to. When?"

"Next Monday at eight. Does that work with your schedule?"

"I think so. If not, I'll get Dan to cover for me - he's always looking for extra work."

"Great - thank you so much. I really appreciate it."

Normally they would have left after a long dinner and a beer, but neither seemed ready to go home quite yet, so they lingered over another beer. Christine had a long train ride before she had to drive back to the house, so she'd be fine to drive by then, and Anne's place was a long walk or a short metro ride away.

They talked for a while about everyday things, but Christine had a thought nagging at the back of her head, trying to get out. Eventually she got up the courage to spit it out.

"At dinner, when Bob was being a jerk about Meaghan and Sarah, he said something about your ... lifestyle. He seemed sure that you were, well, that you are a lesbian."

The blush flooded back into Anne's face, and this time Christine did notice, even under Anne's darker skin. Christine looked down at the table and said "I know it's none of my business, and you don't have to say anything if you don't want to. You know what - forget I said anything at all."

Anne thought about changing the subject for a second, but decided to answer. "It's okay. The answer is I don't really know. If you had asked me a few years ago, when I was finishing my residency, I would have said 'No way - I'm just waiting for the right man to come along.' But now I'm not so sure the right person is a man.

I was mostly interested in girls in college, but I figured it was just a phase I would grow out of. Lesbian Until Graduation, as they say. Then med school and residency came along, and I didn't have any time for anything but work. I've thought about meeting a man for the last year or two, even dated a few times, but I just don't have any interest. And when I do see someone who looks interesting, it's almost always a woman.

So I don't know. I guess maybe I am."

Christine was surprised. She didn't know what to expect when she spoke up, but that wasn't it. Anne always seemed so sure of everything.

"Are you sure you're okay going to dinner with us then? If it's too weird for you, you really don't have to."

"I'm sure, and even if I weren't, you're my friend and I will be there to support you. Besides, it might be good for me - I need to figure this stuff out for myself if I don't want to be alone the rest of my life, and meeting Meaghan will force me to think about it."

They finished their beers in silence after that, and Anne walked Christine to the train station. Christine gave Anne a big hug and said "Thank you for being such a good friend. I'm really sorry if I upset you."

Anne replied "It's okay. I'm fine. I really am." And she meant it.

~~~

Christine got home late and went straight to bed. She flipped on the TV in the bedroom, but there was absolutely nothing interesting on, so she read for a little while and then tried to go to sleep. After laying there for almost an hour, shifting restlessly, she gave up. With their busy work schedules, she and Bob hadn't had sex in over three weeks. Christine was wound up, and the evening's conversation didn't help. The idea that Bob had been less interested lately worked its way into her head, but Christine banished it as soon as she consciously thought it.

Christine reached into her nightstand and pulled out her vibrator. She had felt vaguely guilty about pleasuring herself since she got married - shouldn't her husband be enough for her? She bought the vibrator to make things go faster - less time meant less guilt - and it definitely worked for that. It also felt really good.




The Broken Mirror



She started slowly, rubbing herself with the vibrator over her panties, and let her eyes close and her mind wander. She smiled when she thought about Meaghan kissing her - it was something she remembered often, and fondly. And then the image shifted, the eyes going from deep evergreen to dark and smoky, and the skin from pale and freckled to a deep, smooth tan, framed in lustrous dark hair.

Her eyes shot open and she sat bolt upright, the vibrator temporarily forgotten. The face in her head was Anne's. Christine was NOT prepared to deal with that, especially after what they talked about at dinner. She forced the image from her mind, and tried to think about her husband.

She imagined him as he was when they met, almost five years ago. He had aged since then, and not especially well. Christine didn't mind the receding, graying hair - she thought it made him look dignified. She wasn't happy with the way he had let his body go, losing muscle and putting on fat, but she supposed that happened to most men. What really bothered her was the change in his face. It wasn't that it was older, more weathered - that was okay. It was that the way it had hardened and the light had gone out of it. He didn't smile as much as he used to, and when he did, it didn't look the same.

That line of thought was bringing her sadness rather than lust, and a little guilt - why couldn't she make him smile like he used to? So she cleared her mind again, and tried to think about nothing at all, nothing but her own body. That seemed to work, and she slipped off her panties and pressed the vibrator directly against herself.

Christine didn't rush that night like she usually did. She took her time and enjoyed playing with herself for a good long while. The vibrator was inside her when she finally got close to release, with her other hand rubbing her clit. Anne's beautiful face came back into her mind as she started to come, and this time she didn't try to push it away. Anne was with her as she rode out the wave, and stayed with her as it receded.

After she recovered, Christine thought to herself "What the hell has gotten into you, fantasizing about your best friend? You're a married woman, and you need to get it together and control yourself!" She knew exactly what, or more precisely who, had gotten into her, but she didn't want to think about it.

She slept well that night, better than she had in months, and she did the same thing the next night. Anne was with her in her head again, and Christine didn't even try to ignore the thought. She could control herself in public, so what was the problem what she thought in private?

~~~

The week after that went by fairly uneventfully. Bob got home from his hunting trip on Tuesday, and brought a big chunk of venison with him. He actually cooked on Wednesday, making chili with some of the meat, and Christine actually enjoyed eating it. It was quite tasty - Bob kept to a few basic recipes in the kitchen, but he was good when he made them. It made her feel a little better that the deer wasn't going to waste.

Bob was his usual self, and Christine tried to convince herself that he smiled just as much and was just as happy as he always was. She really didn't like thinking otherwise. Christine snuggled up to Bob in bed at night, but they were both too tired for anything more.

Anne had a last minute schedule change on Thursday, which meant she was free for lunch, so she met Christine at a little sandwich place by Christine's office. Christine was a little nervous about having lunch with Anne, after the images in her head, but she couldn't avoid her best friend, and she didn't want to. Lunch was fast but fun - there were more wacky ER stories - and if Anne noticed any difference in Christine's attitude toward her, she didn't show it.

~~~

Monday was the big day - dinner with Meaghan and Sarah. Christine fussed over what to wear more than usual that morning. She was going straight from the office to dinner, and she thought about changing into something casual before she left, but decided against it. She settled on her favorite blue suit and a white cotton blouse. It was kind of boring, but it was elegant and fit the image she wanted to project. The pub had plenty of professionals in work clothes on weeknights, so she wouldn't look out of place.

She was busy at work that day, with more client meetings than usual, which was good - it kept her mind occupied. She texted Anne during the day to make sure she was still coming, and got an affirmative response with a winking smiley face. The last part of the day dragged, but the clock eventually ticked over to seven forty, time to leave.

Christine saw Meaghan as soon as she walked in the door, and Meaghan beamed at Christine when she recognized her. Meaghan looked almost exactly like she remembered. The hair was shorter now, an elegant mess of reddish brown waves, but the pale, freckled face was still open and friendly, with twinkling green eyes. The strong, curvy body had softened, just a bit, and gotten a little curvier.

Standing next to Meaghan, holding her hand, was a very pretty girl. She was tiny - not much over five feet, and thin - and she looked barely nineteen, although Christine knew she was quite a bit older. Her long, straight black hair was in a French braid, and her face was a striking blend of Asian and American features.

Meaghan let go of Sarah's hand and rushed over to hug Christine. "It's so good to see you, Chrissy. I've really missed you."

"I missed you too, Meg. I'm really glad you found me and wanted to meet."

Meaghan let go and introduced Christine and Sarah. Sarah held her hand out to Christine, who took it and said "It's nice to meet you, Sarah. You're a very lucky girl."

Sarah looked over at Meaghan and smiled. "I certainly am. It's nice to meet you too, and from what Meaghan has told me, your husband is a very lucky guy."

A quick pang of guilt shot through Christine, but she ignored it and said "Bob's not coming tonight - he had a dinner with some people from the Senator's office. My friend Anne is joining us, though."

As if on cue, Anne walked in the door and just about bumped into the three of them. After another round of introductions, they made their way to the back and found a table. Meaghan and Sarah sat next to each other, looking like a pair of lovebirds, and Anne sat next to Christine.

After they sat down at the table, Christine had to comment on Meaghan's hair. "Your hair looks so good short. When did you cut it?"

"Middle of college sometime, and I was thrilled as soon as I did it. It's so much easier, and I can do all sorts of cute things with it. Sometimes I feel like such a cliché - the short haired lesbian! - but I really like it."

Sarah reached her hand up to tousle Meaghan's hair and kissed her on the cheek. "I really like it too."

Dinner and drinks were ordered, and two hours flew by. Christine and Meaghan caught each other up on the ten years since they had last seen each other, and Anne always had something to say when the other two flagged. Sarah listened attentively but didn't say much herself, except when Meaghan insisted she recount the story of how she kissed Meaghan on their Sunday hike, and they fell madly in love. It was the short, fairytale version, but neither Christine nor Anne missed the loving looks between them as Sarah told it.

Meaghan and Sarah split a piece of flourless chocolate cake for dessert, with vanilla ice cream, and Christine and Anne thought it looked so good they did the same. When they finished, Christine asked "Do you maybe want to get together again before you go home? Friday night, maybe? Or Saturday for lunch - I could drive you to the airport afterward."

Meaghan looked at Sarah for reassurance, and it almost looked to Christine like they were communicating telepathically. Sarah replied "Sure - that would be really nice. Saturday would be great, if you don't mind. The metro's nice for getting around, but it's less fun with baggage."

Sarah insisted on paying for dinner, and they all exchanged hugs as they left the pub. Meaghan and Sarah walked off in one direction toward their hotel. It was a fairly long walk, but it was a nice night and they seemed to like walking together. Anne walked with Christine in the other direction, toward the train station.

After a block or so, Anne said to Christine "I'm glad you invited me. It was good to see you relax around people. You don't do it that often. You need more real friends in your life, more than just me. I know Meaghan is all the way across the country, but even a phone call from time to time is better than nothing."

Christine knew she was right - she had always had trouble making friends.

A little later, Anne added "I think it's time for me to start looking for somebody. If Meaghan and Sarah can be happy together, maybe I can find somebody too." Anne realized then how much she wanted Christine to be that somebody, and how that could never happen.

Another hug at the train station, and Anne walked back to her apartment, while Christine headed home to her husband.

~~~

Meaghan was quiet and spacey on the walk back to the hotel, and if Sarah hadn't been holding her hand, she would have walked right by the place. When they got up to their room, Sarah asked "Where were you? Just memories?"

"Yeah. Chrissy - I guess it's Christine now - anyway, she went through some really bad stuff growing up after her mom died, living with a great aunt who didn't care about her. She was determined to get out, to be a success. I always knew she would, but she was never sure of herself, at least until she got into Stanford. It looks like she's achieved everything she worked for, and I'm really happy for her."

Sarah was relieved the evening went well. A lot can happen in ten years, and she had been worried about Meaghan getting hurt if meeting Christine didn't turn out as she hoped.

"I didn't expect her to be quite so tall. I know I'm tiny, but she's basically a giant next to me. She seems really great, though. And she's very pretty - I can see why you wanted to kiss her."

Meaghan replied with a teasing smile "Don't worry - it was a long time ago, and remembering only makes me want you."

Almost reluctantly, Sarah added "Did you see the look on her face when I mentioned her husband? I got the feeling it was because of us, because of me."

Meaghan sighed. "Yeah, I saw it too. I looked him up before we came, and he works for Senator Jackson, so he may just be afraid to be seen in public with a couple of married lesbians. Or maybe it's more. I don't really care; I just care that I got to see Christine again, and that she was happy to see me."

They both sat on the bed and pulled out their laptops - email doesn't ever stop, even on vacation, and it's easier to clean it up in the evenings than to come back to a giant pile. After a while, Meaghan asked Sarah "Christine's friend Anne - do you think she's . . .?"

"I saw how she looked at Christine. It reminded me of somebody," Sarah said with a knowing smile, "even if I couldn't see it for myself at the time. Poor thing - I don't think Christine has a clue that Anne's in love with her, and since she's married, I doubt it will have a happy ending like we did."

Meaghan thought about the broken hearts she endured before meeting Sarah, and felt a lot of sympathy for Anne. She considered saying something, but she knew it wasn't her place, and would probably only make things worse for everyone anyway.

Sarah went into the bathroom to get ready for bed, and Meaghan took her turn when Sarah was done, still a little lost in thought. When Meaghan came out of the bathroom, Sarah grabbed her in a surprise hug, and then started unbuttoning her shirt. Meaghan recognized the determined look in Sarah's eyes, and knew that Sarah wanted tonight to be just for her. She let Sarah undress her and lay her down on the bed. Sarah took off her nightshirt, and Meaghan expected she wouldn't be wearing hers to bed either.

Sarah had put a lot of effort into learning how to massage the tension out of Meaghan's muscles, even with her small hands, and she put all her skill to use on Meaghan's willing body. By the time she was finished, Meaghan had turned to jelly, thoroughly relaxed and content.

Sarah had also put a lot of effort into learning how to make love to Meaghan, how to make her body squirm and sing with pleasure, and she put that skill to use too. Meaghan was already in a romantic mood, from spending quality time with Sarah and from the nice hotel room. She was also in the happy glow of reconnecting with Christine, which made the day that much more special. Her body responded to Sarah's tender loving with a sustained wave of pleasure that left her dizzy.

Sarah's romantic attention started at a particular spot on Meaghan's neck. It was hard to find, but Sarah knew from experience that nuzzling in just the right place drove Meaghan crazy. She kissed Meaghan lightly all across her face and neck and chest, and then found a hardening nipple, just waiting for her mouth. Meaghan's nipples were exquisitely sensitive, and Sarah knew just how much teasing they could take before it got to be too much.

Sarah had to battle the sheets a little - hotel beds may be romantic, but they can also be a pain - before she settled in between Meaghan's legs. At first she just kissed gently, but when she could tell Meaghan was ready, she slid her tongue between Meaghan's labia, and she felt Meaghan's body react. Sarah made little circles around Meaghan's clit with her tongue, something she learned from Meaghan the very first time they made love. As the tension built in Meaghan's body, Sarah slid her finger into Meaghan and found just the right spot.

Meaghan was quiet, just making small whimpers and moans, but Sarah knew her wife's beautiful body so well that she could feel Meaghan's pleasure building to a crescendo. She applied her tongue directly to Meaghan's clit, and after three light swipes, she felt Meaghan's orgasm begin to wash over her. 

Meaghan didn't feel a sudden explosion like she sometimes did; it was more like a warm tingling ecstasy spreading from between her legs to the rest of her body. The pressure from Sarah's tongue got lighter as Meaghan's clit became extremely sensitive, but continued in little touches and circles that kept refilling the well of pleasure, making it last for what seemed like an age. Spots danced before Meaghan's closed eyelids, and Sarah very slowly and gently eased her back to Earth.

Quite pleased with herself after what she had done for Meaghan, Sarah slid into bed next to her and kissed her on the cheek. She nuzzled her head into Meaghan's shoulder while Meaghan recovered and the dizzy spots slowly left her eyes. Meaghan kissed Sarah on the forehead and said "You are so wonderful to me. I love you, sweetie."

Sarah smiled warmly and said "I love you too. Sleep good.", and then rolled over and spooned her back into Meaghan. They snuggled together for a while, enjoying the closeness and warmth.

As she started to drift off to sleep, Meaghan stroked Sarah's long black hair and smiled. Sarah would sleep with hair braided, but she would want Meaghan to brush it out in the morning, and Sarah absolutely loved Meaghan brushing her hair. Afterward, Meaghan would get her chance to make Sarah feel wonderful. She fell asleep with a big smile on her face at the thought.

~~~

Bob was watching TV in the living room when Christine got home. Bob didn't ask about her evening, and Christine didn't bring it up either. There was a quiet tension in the air, both of them trying to think of something to say that wouldn't cause conflict. Bob went upstairs to bed first, and Christine poked at her laptop for another half hour or so before going up to join him.

Christine wore Bob's favorite nightie to bed and snuggled up next to him. He was getting close to nodding off, and Christine knew she shouldn't say anything, but she couldn't help herself. She didn't realize she was about to walk into pile of dynamite carrying a burning torch.

"I know what the Senator says on the news to keep the base happy, but I really don't see how Meaghan and Sarah being married is anybody's business but theirs. They're really wonderful people, and they deserve to be happy together."

He was drowsy, and he half-muttered his response without much thought. It almost seemed rehearsed. "Christine, everybody knows that a stable home with a mother and a father is the only suitable way to raise children. Anything else leads to a broken society, where children grow up without any moral sense. The breakdown in marriage and families is the cause of most of our social problems, and nontraditional relationships like your friends are causing real damage. Traditional marriage is the foundation of this country, and I will do everything I can to help the Senator protect it."

Christine rolled away from her husband and sat back against the headboard. She expected that sort of response for the public, but not when they were alone together. She looked at him as if a stranger had invaded her home and replaced the man she thought she loved. He continued to lie there, half asleep, not seeing a problem with anything he said. After regarding him for a while, she started to speak, slowly and carefully.

"Oh my God. You really have started to believe all the bile that old bigot spews, haven't you? You used to know better - I could see the cynical look in your eye whenever he went off. But it's not there anymore. I suppose you also believe that all poor people are poor because they're lazy. What the hell happened to you?"

Bob's expression shifted as she spoke, his face filling with anger and contempt. How dare she question the Senator? How dare she question her husband? When he spoke, his voice was an icy mix of bluster and menace, with his North Carolina twang starting to come out.

"Senator Jackson is a great man, and I will not have you insulting him in MY house. You will apologize, and you will do so now, before this gets out of hand."

Christine bolted out of bed, her whole body alert. She hadn't heard that kind of venom in anybody's voice since she lived in that mobile home in Michigan, and she wasn't about to put up with it from anyone, even from her husband. Especially from her husband.

Her response was tightly controlled but equally icy "When you married me, this became OUR house, and you became my partner, not my lord. I will not apologize for insulting the Senator, as you so reverently call him, because I have said nothing untrue about him. I will, however, sleep on the couch until you calm down and come to your senses, if you have any left."

At that, Bob got out of bed too, slowly and stiffly. The two stared warily at each other across the bed, combatants testing each other for weaknesses. Christine thought he might actually hit her, really try to hurt her, and for a moment she was terrified. But growing up as a throwaway had left her with a core of steel, one that had gotten her through Stanford and Stanford Law and four years at a top DC law firm. She wasn't going to let him get the best of her.

She sized him up physically, and decided that while he could hurt her, he wouldn't come away undamaged if he tried. He was much stronger, at least above the waist, and had a good forty or fifty pounds on her, even if a lot of it was flab. But she was an inch taller, with longer reach, and much quicker. And she was in almost the same shape as when she played volleyball in college, while he hadn't exercised in years.

He looked ready to actually do it, to lunge at her, but thought better of it. Instead, he fired a verbal arrow, dripping with spite. "You slept with that whore in high school, didn't you? That's why you're defending those immoral deviants - you're one of them. You're probably fucking that dyke doctor too."




The Broken Mirror



He missed the target, but hit the tree, enough to wound a little. Christine had to admit to herself that she had liked it, a lot, when Meaghan had kissed her all those years ago. And she had thoughts about Anne that were anything but innocent.

Christine wanted to angrily deny she had done anything wrong, but experience had taught her there was nothing to gain there, even if the accusations weren't true, so she clamped her teeth shut. Instead, she responded with the same icy control "Don't you start moralizing to me, you fucking hypocrite. I know how much you fucked around before you met me, and I can smell the cheap stripper perfume on your shirts after your 'working lunches'."

The response was pure rage, and the North Carolina twang so thick it was almost comical. "Shut your mouth. That's none of your damn business. Your business is to keep up this house, to support your husband's career, to get yourself pregnant next year like we planned, and to raise my children."

Christine knew at that moment that he was truly lost, that working for Senator Jackass had twisted and hardened the charming, kind soul she fell in love with into something petty, mean, and small. Or maybe that nasty streak had always been there, waiting to come out, and she had just willed herself not to see it. Either way, it was over, and she had to leave.

She knew she should have just kept her mouth shut and walked away, but she had him, and she was so angry she couldn't resist the fatal barb. She spoke with the same contempt he had showed her, but wrapped it in honey rather than venom.

"And how are we going to do that on your salary, hon? I make twice what you do, and the only reason you can afford to live in this nice big house is that your daddy bought it for you. He probably even got you the job with the Senator - how big a campaign contribution did he have to make for that?"

That hit home, cut him to the quick. He picked up the glass of water on his bedside table and threw it at her with an unintelligible scream. She ducked, avoiding all but a few drops of water, and the glass sailed over her shoulder and crashed into the mirror on top of the dresser. 

Christine had spent her whole life working and striving for the perfect life, the perfect job, the perfect family. Just a few more years, and two children, and she would have had it. But now that perfect life was shattered, just like the stupid mirror.

Before he could throw anything else, Christine grabbed her phone, unlocked it and tapped out 9-1-1. She kept her thumb above the call button, without pressing it. Keeping her voice completely neutral, she said "You are going to calm down now and go down to the living room while I pack a bag. If you say a single word, I will call the police. You know damn well that a domestic disturbance call will end your career with Senator Family Values, and probably the rest of the party. So move. Now!"

He stood there for a moment, veins bulging in his neck, his mouth working and teeth grinding, but he got himself under control and shuffled out of the door and down the stairs to the living room. Christine put the first shirt she could find over her nightie, along with an old pair of jeans. She pulled the two big duffels out of the closet and started packing. Underwear and toiletries were first, then her laptop bag, and as many of her clothes and shoes as would fit. She pulled her five favorite work suits out of the closet, slung them over one of the bags, and found a pair of sandals to wear.

She walked down the stairs with one bag on each shoulder, straining a little under the load, phone still in her right hand. She grabbed her coat off the hook by the door and fished the car keys out of the left pocket. As she headed out the front door, Bob started to growl something at her, but she pointed her phone at him, thumb hovering over the screen, and he shut up.

Christine put her bags in the trunk, got into her little black BMW and drove into the city. She remembered a midrange chain hotel somewhere on her way to the office, and that was where she went. The desk clerk was inhumanly cheerful for the late hour, and for her mood, but he had a room available, so she gruffly thanked him and trudged down the hall to number 132.

She set one alarm on her phone and another with the hotel's wakeup call system, and collapsed into the bed. The adrenaline had drained out of her on the drive over, enough that she was shaking a little and completely exhausted. She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

~~~

Christine awoke with a start to an obnoxiously loud phone ringing right next to her head. She knocked it off the hook to shut it up, and as soon as she did, her smartphone alarm went off as well. It was just as insistent, but at least a little less horrid to listen to. She silenced it, and tried to figure out where she was and what had happened.

The curtains were shut, but enough city light leaked through to tell her she was in a generic hotel room. She started to cast through her memory for how she got there, and then it all rolled over her - dinner with Meaghan and Sarah, the big fight at home afterwards, driving here.

A pit formed in her stomach, the kind you get when something terrible has happened, or is about to, and you can't ever fix it. It felt a little like when she was six years old, and the paramedics told her that her mother wasn't going to wake up.

Christine allowed herself ten minutes for a good cry. Bob had been so sweet and kind and generous when she met him, and he really was the husband she had dreamed about since she was a little girl - good job, good looking and a nice house in the country. Being married to him felt like she had finally made it, and she could finally stop worrying that everyone would discover she was just a worthless throwaway girl from a trailer park.

She realized the pit of dread wasn't about losing Bob - she had already lost him, bit by bit, to the ugliness and hate that had seeped into his soul. That saddened her, but she wouldn't miss him. The dread she felt was for losing that life she had worked so hard to achieve. She still had her job, and she was very good at it, but without the fairytale marriage, she was just another lonely soul trying to get ahead, and it felt like everything could be taken away from her without any warning. She knew that had already happened anyway, but it didn't make her feel any better.

Her ten minutes up, Christine cleared her mind and focused on what she needed to do right then, and later that day and that week. It was Tuesday morning, which meant she had almost the whole week of work ahead of her, and that was good. Work would give her something to do.

With grim determination, she hauled herself out of bed and dug into one of the bags for her bathroom kit, and then went to take a shower and get herself ready to tackle the day. The bathroom smelled vaguely of cleaning chemicals, and the fluorescent lights were harsh on her eyes, but the water was hot, and that was good enough.

She called the credit card companies as she was getting dressed, first to take Bob off her account and get a new card, and then to take herself off his card. It was still early yet, so the bank where she kept her checking account wouldn't be open for a while. There was a branch down the block from her office, so she could go during lunch. She was immensely grateful they had both decided to keep separate accounts when they got married.

After brushing out her hair, Christine pulled out her laptop and grabbed her smartphone. She was done with Bob, and she didn't want any contact with him again, except through an attorney - another task she'd have to tackle soon. She went through each of her accounts and blocked all of his phone numbers, email addresses, and all the rest, and she changed all her passwords just in case. She also blocked most of his buddies from her social media accounts - some of them were even worse than he was. 

With nothing else useful she could do, she finished getting dressed, grabbed her laptop bag and headed out to work. She stopped by the front desk and the same guy was there, still cheerful but a little tired. She reserved her room through the end of the week, just in case. She'd have to find a place to live eventually, but that was a task for later.

~~~

It was surprisingly easy to go to work and behave as if nothing had changed. She got through all the administrative stuff she could do without a new address that morning, and nobody at work noticed anything different about her. She stayed late that night, eating Chinese takeout in her office for dinner, but that was fairly normal behavior at the firm.

Christine called Anne in the afternoon and asked her to lunch the next day. She desperately wanted to ask Anne to come get her and take her home and hold her while she let it all out and cried. But it was still too raw, and she knew if she started in, she'd lose control. She couldn't bear the idea of breaking down in front of anyone, especially Anne. So she went back to the hotel and cried herself to sleep.

The next morning, the office mail guy dropped an envelope on Christine's desk. It was from the messenger service the Senator's office used. Christine opened it and read the letter inside. She was sure Bob had not paid for the delivery, and that annoyed her, but she let it go. At least it wasn't on official stationery.

"Christine,

I forgive you for your outburst. If you come home, honor our marriage and give me the respect a husband is due, we don't need to ever speak of this again.

Your husband,

Bob"

Christine would have been furious if it weren't so pathetic. Instead, she just sighed a little and drafted a letter of her own. She made a point of paying for the messenger service with her personal account.

"Bob,

I will be at the house on Sunday at ten to collect my remaining things. It would be better for both of us if you were not there.

Christine"

She chose the time deliberately - she knew the Senator would be at church, pressing the flesh and being seen, and it would be unlike Bob to miss an opportunity to suck up.

~~~

Christine met Anne at the pub for lunch - it was a safe, familiar setting, with enough privacy that the whole place wouldn't hear about her problems. She was glad she waited a day to talk about it - it still hurt, but it wouldn't swallow her up when she told Anne her story.

Right after she sat down, Christine said to Anne in a flat voice "I left Bob."

Anne just stared at her for a while, not understanding. "What?"

"I left Bob. Monday night, after dinner with Meaghan and Sarah, I went home and got into bed with him and told him they were wonderful people and deserved to be happy.

He started giving me the standard conservative bullshit, and I could tell he believed it. I mean really believed it, deep down. And that was it - I knew it was over. I don't want to - I won't - live with a man who only sees me as a wife and mother, not as a real person, with her own ambitions and goals.

We got into a big fight, and we both said some horrible, hateful things. He threw a glass at my head, and I left."

Anne's eyes got wider and wider as Christine spoke. "Oh my god, sweetie. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine. I cried my eyes out yesterday, but one thing I learned from my crappy childhood was how to get over things and move on. I'll probably be an emotional wreck for a while, but I can get through the day, and that's enough for now.

And no, he didn't hurt me. I think he wanted to, but other than breaking my great aunt's mirror with that glass, there was no physical damage."

Anne didn't really know what to say, so she scooted over in the booth to put her arm around Christine and give her a little hug. A waiter showed up soon after that, so they ordered sodas and sandwiches from the lunch special menu. The food showed up very quickly, and eating broke the awkward silence.

After they finished, Anne asked "So what are you going to do now?"

"I don't really know. I've done all the basic stuff, at least all I can do without a new permanent address, and I've started looking for a divorce attorney. Bob will keep the house - it was his before we were married - and there's not much else to speak of. It will take a while - six months, I think - but it should be easy. The big thing I need to do is find a place to live."

Anne was a little nervous about making the suggestion, and what it might mean, but she said "You could move in with me. The second bedroom's been empty since Jamie moved out last year."

Christine loved the idea. "That would be great. Really great. I don't want to be alone right now, but I don't really like sharing my space with people - it was even hard with Bob. But you're my best friend, and I'm sure we'll get along great. It'll be fun."

Anne got a little flushed - the idea of having Christine in her home all the time, if not her bed, was almost too good to be true.

Christine noticed Anne's discomfort, but misunderstood what it meant. "Sorry, sorry - too much. I promise not to make a pest of myself, and to respect your privacy and your space. But I still think it'll be fun."

Anne took Christine's hand and smiled at her and answered "Yes, it will be fun. It'll be nice to have somebody else in the place again, especially somebody I actually like."

Christine took part of the afternoon off to do some shopping - Anne's apartment had a second bedroom, but not a second bed, or anything else, so she went out and bought herself a whole bedroom set, with delivery the next day, and a set of sheets and towels. It wouldn't be as elegant as Bob's house in Falls Church, but it would be hers in a way the house never was, and Christine was really looking forward to living with Anne.

Christine spent one more night at the hotel - Anne's couch didn't look that comfortable for sleeping - and moved into Anne's apartment Thursday evening after work. Anne surprised her with baked pasta and a salad for dinner when she got there, and Christine actually got a little choked up by the gesture. She wasn't used to people cooking for her.

Over dinner and wine, they worked out some rules for living together. They agreed to each cook dinner twice a week, when they could, and shop accordingly. Christine knew Anne would actually follow through, unlike Bob. Anything in the kitchen without a label was assumed to be shared, and books, music and videos on the shelves in the living room were fair game for either of them. Clothes were off limits without asking, but it didn't really matter - Christine was so tall and broad-shouldered that neither of them had much that would fit the other, beyond a few oversize sweaters.

Their schedules mostly overlapped - Anne only had two or three night or weekend shifts a month at the hospital - so they'd see each other just about every day, and probably spend time together on the weekends. Christine liked to go out and walk, at least when the weather was nice. Anne mostly hung around the apartment if she didn't have anything else to do, but she thought the idea of going out walking with Christine sounded great.

Even on brand new sheets in an unfamiliar bed, Christine felt instantly comfortable in her new home, and slept soundly.

~~~

Saturday morning, Anne told Christine "You should go meet Meaghan and Sarah by yourself today. I'm happy to come if you want me to - they're really nice people - but you deserve some alone time with them."

Christine thought about it and decided Anne was right. Besides, she wanted to talk to Meaghan about some things that she wasn't ready for Anne to hear. She got to the hotel a few minutes early and texted Meaghan, who texted back that they would be right down.

Meaghan and Sarah walked out the front door about two minutes later and loaded their bags into the Christine's trunk. They had several hours before they needed to be at the airport, so Christine took them to a little sandwich place she liked, and they drove to East Potomac Park for a picnic and a walk. They ate at a little table near the parking lot, and Christine told them the whole story about leaving Bob and moving in with Anne.

Meaghan took her hand when she was finished, and said, as gently as she could, "I'm so sorry if our being here broke up your marriage. When I called you, I never intended any harm. We've had our share bad feelings from people who can't accept us, especially my brother Danny, but I never imagined that sort of thing could affect you just for having dinner with us."

Christine appreciated the concern, and she replied "It's not your fault at all - there had been something wrong for a while; I just didn't see it. You two showing up here was the spark that set off the explosion, but it would have happened eventually anyway. I really should thank you - in another year or two, I probably would have been pregnant, and then things would have gotten really complicated and ugly."

Sarah got up and hugged Christine, and said "Still, we're both very sorry. I left a guy I lived with for two years a while before I met Meaghan, and almost married him, so I know how painful it can be. We're happy to help any way we can. Seattle's a great place to get away, if you need that, and we'd be happy to have you."

Christine found her eyes tearing up a little at Sarah's generosity, and smiled them both. "I may take you up on that sometime, but for now, I think I need to focus on putting my life here back together. Anne's been a wonderful friend to me, and I think living with her is really going to help."

They went for a long walk together in the park and around the Jefferson memorial, mostly in silence. It was a beautiful day.

On the way back to the parking lot, Christine diffidently asked "Sarah, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"How did you know when you were in love with Meaghan - I mean, what was it like realizing you were in love with a woman after being straight your whole life?"

Sarah got a dreamy smile on her face as she answered. "I still don't really know when it happened, or how. I just realized one night when Meaghan was out of town that she was the most important person in the world to me, and I couldn't bear not being with her. It took me weeks to work up the courage to do something about it, but I did, and Meaghan is the best part of my life."

Christine blushed a little at Sarah's answer, and Meaghan's reaction to it. She blushed even more at the question she was about to ask.

"And how was it to, um, you know . . . sleep together?"

Sarah blushed a little herself at that, but after looking at Meaghan for reassurance, she answered honestly, without any self-consciousness. "I was absolutely terrified. I wasn't sure I could do it, but Meaghan took care of me. She didn't push; she just held me until I was asleep our first night together. The next morning, sex didn't seem so scary, and it's been wonderful ever since."

A little ball of stress had been building up in Christine's mind for a while, even before she left Bob, and talking to Sarah started to untangle it. Christine was tremendously grateful.

"Thank you both so much. My head is way too messed up right now to think too much about being with anyone else, but I realize I'll be ready again, someday. I just needed to know I'll be okay if, if that someone is . . ." She let her voice trail off, but Sarah and Meaghan both knew what she meant, even if she couldn't quite say it yet.

Christine hugged them both as they got into the car, and drove them to the airport. She dropped them off with promises to keep in touch, and knew the promises would be kept. Meaghan held Sarah's hand as they walked into airport, and said "It was really nice to see her again. I hope she's going to be okay."

Sarah replied "I think she will be."




The Broken Mirror



~~~

The next day, Christine drove out to the house for what she hoped would be the last time. Anne came with her, as much for moral support as anything else. Bob wasn't there when they arrived, and Christine was grateful he had the decency to stay away. Christine packed up the rest of her clothes, the few pictures she had around the house, and the frame from the broken mirror. She and Anne packed four boxes of books, including the cookbook shelf, and a few CDs and DVDs, and that was it. Christine was a little shocked to realize how little an impact she had on the house that she had shared with her husband for over two years.

Over the next few months, Anne and Christine settled into their new shared life together. They weren't a couple, certainly, but they were closer than roommates. Christine felt a little like she had a brand new big sister, and potentially something more when she was ready, and it was wonderful. It was the first time since she was a little girl that she lived with someone and felt completely comfortable. She had loved Bob when they were married, but there was always a little distance between them, and living together was an effort. Living with Anne felt perfectly natural, no effort at all.

For Anne, it was a little more complicated. Christine was her best friend, but the more time they spent together, the more Anne realized she needed Christine to be more than just her best friend. Living together was wonderful, but being around Christine made her heart ache a little. She was willing to give Christine some time to get over her life with Bob, even a lot of time, but she couldn't live this way forever.

Christine quickly discovered that Anne was a very good cook, and they really enjoyed cooking and eating together, so they expanded their kitchen arrangement when they had the time. Christine learned a lot in the process.

They also spent some time discovering the DC theatre scene together. They both liked theatre, in theory, but had never seen much before moving in together. Going alone was not much fun, and Bob certainly didn't have any interest.

After she got over the initial adjustment, Christine was much happier with her life. She didn't miss the big house - even the modest apartment was a little larger and much nicer than where she had grown up. And the commute was so much better she wondered how she ever put up with living in Virginia. It was like getting an extra hour of life back every day.

The only real reservation Christine had about living with Anne was after she went to bed at night and pleasured herself. She didn't feel guilty about the act anymore, but she did feel very strange when she was thinking about her roommate, who was just on the other side of her bedroom wall. She was very careful to stay quiet while she did it - she would have been mortified if Anne heard her.

Anne managed to put her feelings on hold and live with Christine as just a friend, and it became a very happy time in her life. She didn't have much in common with her previous roommate Jamie, a physical therapist who slept with any doctor who was interested, male or female. When Jamie finally found a guy who wanted more, Anne was relieved to have the apartment to herself. But living with Christine was almost like having a partner for everything but sex, and although she wanted more, what she had was great.

~~~

Christine found a divorce attorney the week after she moved out. Virginia is a pretty strict state, and she wasn't a DC resident when she was married, so she settled for a separation agreement and then a six month wait for a full divorce. She might have been able to push it faster with the glass-throwing incident, but there was no police record, and she didn't want it made public anyway. She didn't want to hurt Bob; she just wanted to be free of him. Bob apparently felt the same way - as long as she didn't make a claim on the house, he wanted the whole thing to be as quiet as possible. There was no benefit for him in letting it get ugly, other than spite, and quite a bit of risk to his reputation and his career.

She updated her paperwork with the firm once when she moved in with Anne, and then again when she was formally separated, but she didn't tell anybody else at work about it. It was her own business, and nobody else needed to know about it. She wanted to change her name back to Christine Dewey after the formal separation, but decided it would cause too much confusion.

Christine found herself working a little more - not commuting to Virginia made her schedule more flexible - but enjoying it less. She was still very good at her job, and billed more hours than most of her peers, but after her marriage fell apart, she started to question some of her other assumptions about what she wanted out of life. She was on track to become a partner in a few years, and that came with a lot of money, but she wasn't sure that was what she really wanted anymore. A conversation on a Friday afternoon a few months later forced the issue.

Anne had gone to Boston for a long weekend to visit her family, so Christine had been alone since the middle of the week, and was a little grumpy. Schulte walked into her office a little after four and closed the door. Schulte was kind of a legend in the DC legal community - Christine had studied a couple of his cases school, and he was a big part of the reason she came to the firm. The reality didn't quite live up to the legend - he was over eighty, and his best days were behind him. He still impressed the clients and drew in a lot of business, but he didn't do much actual work anymore, which was probably for the best.

He sat uncomfortably for a moment, and then started in. His tone sounded ominous, and his words very carefully enunciated, as if he had planned them out in advance. That couldn't be good.

"Christine, I'd like to discuss something with you. I'm concerned that your priorities may no longer be conducive to partnership in this firm."

He paused, and Christine waited for him to continue for an uncomfortably long moment, but he just sat there, apparently waiting for her to respond.

Christine didn't quite know where he was going, and asked "Was there something wrong with my work on the ZQSoft matter? The settlement was quite favorable."

"No, that was fine work. Fine work. I'm concerned with your ... situation. The firm values family and stability, as you know. 

I understand you've separated from your husband. A husband who, I will point out, works for a very influential Senator. Further, it seems you've moved in with a single woman, a friend of yours. She's a physician, I believe.

I hope it's just a temporary arrangement. It's just not proper, living with another woman in a small apartment in Mount Vernon Square. Not the kind of lifestyle for a partner in this firm.

The other partners and I have been very impressed with your work, Christine, and I'd hate to see you fall short of your potential."

Christine felt like she'd been punched in the gut, but she remained calm and replied "I understand your concern. I'm going through a difficult phase in my life right now, but I've been very careful not to let it affect my work. I know the firm has certain ... expectations of its attorneys, and that my behavior is a reflection of the firm, even outside the office."

Schulte seemed satisfied with that, and stood up to leave.

"I'm glad we had this talk, Christine."

Christine sat in her office for a while after that, quietly fuming. She had suspected that word about her separation would get out and cause her trouble at work, and now she had confirmation. What she didn't expect was the implication from Schulte about living with Anne. It wasn't like they were sleeping together, despite Christine's fantasies, but she supposed that didn't matter. Perception is reality.

Christine knew she wouldn't make partner as long as she lived with Anne, definitely not anytime soon and maybe not ever. It didn't matter how much she billed, or if she was a better lawyer than any of the other associates. She had given them an excuse to pass her over, to promote somebody else, and they would take it.

~~~

Christine left early that day, and she was in a foul mood. She wanted to go home to Anne and bitch about how unfair it all was while Anne told her it would be okay. But Anne was still in Boston with her family, and wouldn't be home until late the next afternoon. She couldn't even call - Anne had texted her that they were going out for the evening, and her phone would be off.

She didn't want to go home to an empty apartment, so she went downstairs and across the street. There's an old bar that's been there forever, and generations of politicians, lobbyists, lawyers and journalists have gone there to do business and drown their sorrows.

The place was quiet - it was still fairly early. Christine sat at the bar and ordered a Scotch, neat. She sat for a while swirling the Scotch around her glass before she took a sip. She didn't really like Scotch, but she could appreciate it, especially the good stuff. It tasted like fire, but went down smooth. She took her time with it, getting the full experience out of every sip.

She had just finished her second when he sat down next to her. She hadn't noticed him come in, but he had her full attention now. He was improbably handsome - well over six feet, perfectly cut dark hair and a strong, rugged face weathered just enough to convey maturity, not age. Christine sized him up in an instant: Texan. High priced lobbyist, probably oil and gas. Apartment in the city, ranch back home.

He bought her another drink, and one for himself. When he introduced himself, Christine knew she was right about Texas. They chatted for a while, and she found out she was right about the rest too, mostly. He used to work for an oil company, but had recently become chief lobbyist for a business-funded think tank. It was really all the same to him; he was a political operative, not a policy driver.

Christine nursed her last drink for a long time - three was one more than she usually allowed herself - while he caught up. When the subject of the apartment in the city came up, he asked if she wanted to see it.

A voice in her head started yelling at her as soon as she said yes, but she ignored it. "A one night stand with a lobbyist? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Christine knew it was wrong, that she was doing it for the wrong reasons, that she would regret it in the morning, but she didn't care. She had already lost the perfect family, half of the perfect life that she had worked so hard for, and now the other half, the perfect job, was being ripped away from her.

This tall, handsome man wanted her, and she needed to feel wanted. It didn't matter why.

The apartment was everything Christine expected - compact but exquisite. This man really knew how to live. She was all over him as soon as the door shut - she didn't want him to change his mind, realize he had made a terrible mistake. Or maybe she was afraid she'd realize she was the one who had made the terrible mistake and run away.

Clothes were shed pretty quickly, and she found herself holding the third dick she had ever seen up close. She wondered if she should feel insulted that he wasn't completely hard, but the thing responded quickly enough to her touch. She took him in her mouth, but she really didn't know what to do from there. Bob had never been very responsive to oral sex. Fortunately, this man knew how to communicate what he wanted, with subtle moans and with his hands brushing against her face. He stopped her after a while, before he came, and she felt a little pride at doing a reasonably good job.

He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom - no man had ever been strong enough to do that before - and laid her on the bed. He paid just the right amount of attention to each part of her body, from soft kisses on her neck and her hardening nipples to the soft part inside her thigh, before she felt his tongue between her legs.

He was a very skilled, considerate lover, and if Christine had been there for the right reasons, she would have been screaming in ecstasy. As it was, she was a giant ball of frustration, without any hope of release. She tried to think of Anne, like she did when she touched herself, but that just led to guilt and shame.

So she did what she had done so many times with her husband - she faked an orgasm. She put a lot of effort into the performance - this man really was doing his best, and her problems were not his fault. He deserved her best in return. If he had any clue that it wasn't real, he had the tact not to show it.

While he was inside her, Christine made an effort to please him, kissing his neck and his ear and using all the tricks she had learned from two years of marriage. She did it partly out of a sense of obligation, but mostly she just wanted it to be over faster.

When she went into the bathroom to clean herself up, she buried her face in his bath towel and screamed out her frustration. He was asleep when she came out, so she quietly retrieved her clothes and made her way to the elevator.

The cabbie on the way home was unnaturally chatty, and Christine had to smile in spite of herself. But when she came home to the empty apartment, she had to face the full weight of what had happened to her, and what she had done, and she broke down in tears.

She had it out with herself about her career and what Schulte said to her, and she realized that she had been chasing a prize she no longer really wanted. She didn't mind the work - much of it was quite interesting - but she was always on the side of the big companies, because they were the ones who could afford her firm. Some of the things she did for them, like developing clear, solid privacy policies, made the world a better place. But much of it was defending companies that had screwed over their customers, and she had to battle her conscience a little to do that. And that was even before she considered the schmoozing she'd have to do as a partner.

So she decided Schulte was right, in a way - her priorities were not conducive to partnership in the firm. She thought briefly about going to another firm, or even striking out on her own. She knew some of her clients would follow her, partner or not. But that wouldn't be any better than what she was doing now.

There were plenty of other things she could do with her skill set and feel better about herself. The government probably wasn't hiring, but there were quite a few public interest groups in the area that might be looking. The pay wouldn't be as good, but she'd still make a comfortable living.

That left the other item - what she had done that night. For some reason, it had become a much bigger weight on her mind than her career, even though objectively it wasn't that important in the scheme of things. She was ashamed of herself for the one night stand, especially since she knew it was wrong before she did it, but she could live with that. What she couldn't live with, what was eating at her, was the sense that she had betrayed Anne.

She went to bed and thrashed about for a long while before finally falling asleep. When she did sleep, it wasn't very restful.

~~~

Anne was a little worried as she stepped off the Amtrak train. Christine had talked about meeting her at the station and then going somewhere for a late lunch on the way home. Anne had texted from the train, but she hadn't heard anything from Christine since the previous afternoon. Anne looked around the station a bit to make sure she hadn't missed her, and then headed home.

When Anne walked in the door, Christine was curled up in a ball on the couch under a blanket. The TV was on, but Christine wasn't really watching. Anne could tell she had been crying earlier in the day. Christine was a big girl - six feet tall, with broad shoulders and long, athletic legs - but Anne thought she looked small sitting there on the couch.

Anne dropped her bag, sat down next to Christine and put her arm around Christine's shoulder. "Wanna tell me about it?"

Christine just sat there for a while, trying to come up with the words to tell Anne what had happened and how sorry she was for betraying her. The job stuff was easier, so she started with that.

"Schulte came into my office yesterday afternoon and basically told me I wouldn't make partner unless I went back to my husband."

Anne had expected it had something to do with work, but she wasn't prepared for that.

"That's terrible, sweetie. They can't really expect you to go back to Bob, can they?"

"Not really, but it gives them an excuse to pass me over."

Christine paused for a moment, trying to phrase the next part as delicately as possible. "And they don't like the idea of me living with you. Schulte said it was 'not proper'. There's nothing improper about it at all - we're just roommates - but that doesn't matter. Even the possibility that you and I might be, well, whatever is enough to hold up my career."

Anne was outraged for Christine. "How can they do this to you, after how hard you've worked for them? Can't you do something, legally? Aren't there discrimination laws or something?"

Christine was touched and a little amused by Anne's outrage, and smiled. "Not really. Maybe if they fired me, but they can promote whomever they want to partner.

Anyway, it's okay. It made me think about what I really want from my life, and I don't think being a partner is it anymore. Don't get me wrong - the money would be great - but I want to do something better with my life than defending the Fortune Five Hundred.

I'm going to start looking for something on Monday - probably some sort of public interest group. Something will work out."

Anne was kind of shocked - Christine was taking everything so much better than she would have. But something else had to be wrong - she wouldn't be moping on the couch if she had already sorted out her career issues.

"You seem like you're upset about something else too - do you want to talk about it?"

Christine buried her head in Anne's shoulder and almost shouted "No!" 

Anne put both arms around her and held her while she cried. "It's okay, sweetie. You can tell me, whatever it is, but you don't have to."

There was nothing in the world Christine wanted less than to talk about what she had done the night before, especially with Anne. She wanted to bury it deep, forget it ever happened. But she knew if she didn't say something, right then, she would never be able to look Anne in the eye without guilt and shame. 

She stared off sounding a little angry. "After Schulte had his little talk with me, I was really pissed, so I went to the bar across the street."

After that, though, her voice got small and soft, and Anne strained a little to listen. "I met a guy and I went home with him. I knew it was a terrible idea, but I did it anyway. I felt awful the whole time I was with him - how could I do something so stupid? And the worst part was how ashamed I felt when I thought about what you would think of me. Can you ever forgive me?"

Each word was ice water in Anne's veins. At first, she just wanted to kill this man, whoever he was, for preying on Christine. She was fragile and vulnerable and he had no right. Then she started to think about what Christine had done, and why she had done it. Maybe she should have felt hurt and betrayed, but all she saw was Christine's pain, and she knew she had to do what she could to make it go away. She held Christine closer and rocked back and forth a little.

"It's okay, sweetie. Everything is going to be okay. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere. You're a sweet and wonderful person and you're my best friend."

Christine sat up and looked Anne in the eye and asked "You're really not mad at me?"




The Broken Mirror



Anne said with all the tenderness in the world "No, sweetie, I'm not mad at you. It really is okay." And she really did mean it.

She had no claim on Christine, even though she wanted to. The thought of Christine in bed with whoever he was made her a little sick, but it didn't feel like betrayal to Anne. It felt more like violation. That both Christine and the man were willing participants didn't matter.

Christine put her head back down on Anne's shoulder and cried for a while, and Anne reached over to the side of the couch for a Kleenex. After Christine cried herself out, she bounced back, like she always did. "I'm really sorry you had to see me like that. Enough feeling sorry for myself. Let me buy you lunch?"

Anne smiled, surprised and happy to see her friend back to her normal self so suddenly, and agreed. They both got up and showered - Anne to wash off the travel, and Christine because she'd been moping around all day. They went out to a little diner near the apartment for a late lunch and spent the rest of the day together, the emotional fireworks calmed and under control, if not entirely forgotten.

~~~

Christine sent out a dozen emails before going into work on Monday morning, and by the end of the week she had four or five solid leads. Some of them were interesting, but nothing really jumped out at her as great, and she had plenty of time. The one she had been waiting for came over the weekend. 

She had lunch on Saturday with the director of the Technology Law Foundation, and he offered her the legal director position on the spot, pending the usual administrative stuff. It was perfect - she really admired their work, and she'd actually get to run the whole legal department - five other attorneys and a couple of support staff. They had a small but nice office on K Street, so her commute wouldn't change much. And her personal life couldn't possibly be an issue - half the employees still lived like college students, and the communications director was very publicly gay. She'd have to take a small pay cut, but she was pleasantly surprised at the salary.

Anne took Christine out to celebrate on Saturday night and made a big deal out of the new job, even though Christine was terribly embarrassed at being fussed over.

The offer was finalized on Tuesday evening, and she went to talk to Daniel the next day. Daniel had been the managing partner of the firm for about three months, and had been Christine's mentor for her first few years there. Christine was pretty wound up as she walked into his office - she didn't expect it to be a very pleasant conversation.

Daniel had a boyish face and shaggy blond hair that made him look younger than his fifty-something years, and he often used that to his advantage. He'd start a conversation with a friendly grin, but it could turn instantly to a steely and even threatening determination when he needed it to, and Christine had seen him negotiate enough to know what to expect. She started by framing the issue as being about the firm, not about her.

"Schulte came to see me about a week ago. He suggested - how did he say it exactly? - that my priorities might not be conducive to partnership in the firm."

Christine watched for his reaction, and the touch of annoyance she saw before he hid it confirmed what she already thought - he knew about it, but hadn't approved. He responded with that trademark grin.

"Christine, you're doing great work here, and all the partners have every confidence in your abilities."

It was a clever evasion, exactly what Christine expected. That meant that he didn't know if she'd have the support of enough partners when she was up for partnership herself in a few years. She decided to lay out her case - she was leaving anyway, so it didn't really matter. However, she wasn't going without extracting a little something on the way out. Her pride wouldn't let her.

"I know quite well that partnership is about more than my abilities as an attorney. It's about bringing in clients and keeping them happy. Six months ago, my personal life was an asset to the firm. Now it's a liability, and that's enough to pass me over in two years, or three or five."

Daniel started to respond, but Christine held up her hand and continued.

"Daniel, it's okay. I understand. If I were on the committee, I'd probably see things the same way. And anyway, since my life has changed so much, I've been reevaluating my goals. I don't think the firm is the best place for me in the long term. I've got a few offers, and I plan to take one. I'll stay until the Capricorn matter is finished - it won't be more than three weeks; less if they settle."

Daniel looked a little stunned - in the current legal market, not a lot of associates would voluntarily leave a firm like his. And then he started to get worried - if she went to a smaller firm, she'd probably go as a partner. Some very big clients might very well go with her. Christine let that sink in for a bit, and then pushed her position.

"Schulte may be the partner on the accounts, but we both know ZQSoft and Capricorn are my clients. If I went to another firm, they'd happily follow me. Three or four others might as well. I don't want to hurt the firm, but I do want what've I've earned. Bonuses for associates are in three months. If you make sure I get my full bonus before I leave, plus a little something extra, I'll make sure the clients stay with the firm and stay happy. If not, I'll fulfill my professional and ethical obligations, but I can't say what will happen after I leave."

Daniel smiled at her - that toughness was why she was such a good attorney in the first place, and he couldn't help but respect her for it, even if it was going to cost him this time. She couldn't be going to a rival firm - she wouldn't give up her clients just to save her bonus - but it didn't really matter. Having her manage the clients and keep them happy before leaving was worth whatever it cost.

"I'll work it out with the partners. You'll get your bonus."

The next week the Capricorn matter settled, quite favorably, and Christine packed up her office to leave that Friday. Early in the afternoon, Schulte walked into her office with a warm smile on his face and a box under his arm.

"I'm too old to stay late for your going away party, so I thought I'd stop by now and wish you luck. I expect great things from you, Christine. You'll make a fine judge someday, even if I'm not alive to see it."

He handed her the box, saying "That beat up laptop bag you carry around just will not do, young lady. You need a proper briefcase."

Before Christine could even say "Thank you," he turned around and left. Christine just stood there for a minute, wondering what had happened. He had been the one who pushed her to leave, and she had assumed it was because he didn't approve of her lifestyle, whatever that meant. But now his motives were a complete mystery, and Christine decided not to try to understand, just to be grateful.

Daniel and a bunch of other attorneys took her out for drinks after work, and some of them probably stayed at the bar well into the evening. Any excuse was a good excuse. Christine stayed long enough to be polite and say goodbye to everyone, but left as soon as she could. The person she wanted to be with, the one who could reassure her that she was doing the right thing, was at home waiting for her.

~~~

Christine filed the paperwork to change her name from Christine Wainwright back to Christine Dewey just before leaving the firm, which made the new job feel like a clean break. She was still tied to Bob, but the waiting period would be over in seven weeks, and then she would be free.

Working at the foundation was a big adjustment, but Christine knew it was the right decision almost immediately. The legal work was great - the foundation only took on interesting cases, and she always felt like she was on the right side. Managing the staff attorneys was pretty easy - they were all very self-motivated, and the office politics of the firm were completely absent. Christine missed some of the support and resources she had at the firm, but the foundation made do with what they had, and with the public law libraries around town. 

Christine knew she'd have to spend much of her time on what the director called 'outreach'. She started a blog, and wrote a lot of legal opinions for varying audiences. She also talked to a lot of reporters, and even did some TV interviews. What she didn't expect was how much she enjoyed it - helping people understand the complicated legal issues the foundation dealt with was important and very satisfying. When she was doing media interviews, her enthusiasm was infectious.

One unexpected benefit was that the dress code at the foundation was more relaxed than the firm - the foundation had started in Silicon Valley, and still had some of that culture. She only had to wear a suit when she was in court or talking to the media. The rest of the time, she could wear a cotton dress, a knit skirt and sweater or something else similarly nice.

One afternoon, Christine was sitting in her office writing an amicus brief for a case before the Federal Circuit when James, her assistant legal director, walked in and said "Christine - you have to see this!"

Christine dashed out to the lobby where everyone had gathered around the TV, tuned to one of the cable news channels. The blonde on the TV was saying ". . . shocking allegations on Capitol Hill of a gay love affair between Republican Senator Herbert Jackson of North Carolina and an unnamed Mexican man. Senator Jackson, a prominent opponent of both same-sex marriage and immigration reform, has been charged with making false statements to immigration officials in order to obtain a green card for the man. The Senator is also under investigation for financial irregularities regarding the man's apartment, allegedly paid for by the Senator's campaign fund. A representative from the Senator's office gave this statement."

Christine felt sorry for poor Melissa, the Senator's press secretary - she couldn't imagine having to go out in front of the press like that. But the person who showed up wasn't Melissa; it was Bob. Christine figured Melissa must have refused, probably even quit. "Good for her," Christine thought to herself.

Bob read the short statement. His voice was controlled, but his North Carolina accent came out thick. "The Senator denies these baseless accusations, and he looks forward to a full investigation. The Senator is confident that the he and his staff will be cleared of any wrongdoing, and that he will be able to return his full attention to the task of serving the people of North Carolina and the United States."

The reporters around him pressed forward, but Bob turned around and went back into the office without taking any questions.

Christine leaned over to James and whispered "It's all true - I could tell from Bob's voice that he didn't believe a word he was saying."

There was a great deal of jubilation in the lobby. The Senator was a big recipient of telecom company money, and he opposed pretty much everything the foundation advocated. The young employees at the foundation didn't much like his conservative stance on social issues either, and the accusations on the news made the hypocrisy all the more galling.

Christine didn't begrudge them their celebration, but she couldn't feel good about it; she was just sad. The Senator had been a positive force in politics years ago, before his party lurched so far to the right, and he had some real legislative accomplishments to his name.

She also felt a little bad for Bob - this could easily end his career in Washington. He had attached himself very tightly to the Senator, and this kind of scandal would make it much harder for him to be associated with anyone else from the state's Congressional delegation. On the bright side, he would probably move back to North Carolina, and Christine would be that much less likely to ever see him again.

~~~

The next Wednesday, Jared walked into her office. He was the foundation's communications director, and Christine had become his new best friend. She had a talent for explaining legal issues in plain English, she could think on her feet, and she was very pretty. All that meant she was very popular with the political news shows when they needed legal analysis, and Jared sent her out as often as he could. He was particularly excited about the latest one - he had gotten a call from one of the comedy shows in New York.

"Can you go up to New York tomorrow morning and do two minutes on net neutrality, plus some questions? Their regular New York legal analyst is in the hospital, and they asked for you specifically. It'll be great exposure for us - they've got a huge audience, and their demographics are great. Plus, they're paying for your travel, so it won't hit our budget."

Christine was kind of shocked - she had watched the show herself since law school. Of course she would go. Jared left a packet with a train ticket and a reservation at a very nice hotel, and Christine had an idea. She went online to reserve another train ticket, pausing at the last screen before pushing 'accept'. Then she called Anne.

"Anne, sweetie, do you want to come to New York with me tomorrow? I'm doing a TV show, and I could easily get you another train ticket."

Anne had been working extra over the past few weeks to cover for various other doctors out on vacation or home with sick kids or whatever, and she really needed a break herself, even if it was only overnight. She jumped at the chance.

"That sounds great - what's the plan?"

"I leave tomorrow morning from Union Station, tape the show at like six, and then spend the night. I come back on the morning train on Friday. Does that work for you?"

"That's perfect - I wasn't working Friday anyway, and at least three different doctors owe me a shift for tomorrow. I'll find somebody."

Christine pushed the accept button as soon as she hung up and got the train ticket for Anne. This was going to be fun.

They got to the station early the next morning - Christine was very nervous, and didn't want anything to mess up the trip. The train ride was blessedly uneventful, and they found themselves at Penn Station in Manhattan a little before noon. Anne took it upon herself to distract Christine - they had a whole afternoon to kill before they had to be at the studio, so they went to lunch in Chinatown and then spent the afternoon at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

They got to the studio about ten minutes before the schedule said they were supposed to arrive, and one of the production staff led them back to the green room. Christine sat with her tablet and reviewed her notes. She didn't need to - she knew the subject backwards and forwards - but it gave her something to do and made her feel better. Anne sat beside her and read a book, looking up at Christine after every page to make sure she was still okay.

The host walked in about half an hour later with a production assistant and explained what he was going to ask and what he wanted from Christine. He was very nice, and thanked her for coming on such short notice. It was fascinating for both of them to see what he was like behind the scenes, when he wasn't in his screen persona.

The actual exchange went exactly as expected - Christine was able to get through her explanation, despite the expected snarky comments from the host, and then he asked a mildly inappropriate and very funny question about Justice Scalia. Christine couldn't keep herself from giggling a little - she's a Scalia fan, in spite of the fact that she disagrees with him about almost everything - but she recovered and managed a snappy comeback.

Anne watched the whole thing from backstage and clapped along with the audience. She was so proud of Christine - it was kind of amazing to know that her best friend was on national TV, looking very smart and cool. Not to mention gorgeous. After the show, Anne took Christine out to a nice Italian place she knew about near the studio for dinner. Christine was still a little giddy from the experience, so she was very happy that Anne had planned the day and taken care of her.

After dinner, they went for a walk around town and then made their way to the hotel. It was beautiful, and they were both a little disappointed they would only be there for twelve hours or so. They had left their overnight bags at the desk earlier when they checked in, but hadn't been up to the room yet. When they got there, they had a bit of a surprise - there was just one bed. The reservation form had said there would be two queens, but they had apparently been upgraded to a suite with a king bed.

After they both nervously hemmed and hawed for a minute, Christine said "I can call the desk and get us a different room. If you want me to."

Anne was very conflicted - she wanted nothing in the world more than to spend the night in bed with Christine, but Christine was straight, technically even still married, and Anne really didn't want to embarrass herself or hurt Christine's feelings by doing anything inappropriate. But it was just sleeping together, in a very large bed - nothing they couldn't handle.

"No - I'm okay. I'm fine to stay here. But only if you want to."

Now it was Christine's turn to be conflicted. She didn't miss Bob at all, but she did miss, just a little, having someone else in bed with her. It made her feel warm and safe and not so alone. If that someone was Anne, so much the better. Christine wasn't even remotely prepared to act on the fantasies she had about Anne, but just sleeping together would be nice.

"I'm okay too. We're just going to sleep. It will be fine."

They spent an hour or so hanging out, Christine catching up on email and news while Anne read her book, and then got ready for bed. Anne wore a flannel pajama shirt to bed, and Christine wore an oversized tee shirt. They climbed into bed together, on opposite sides, said goodnight, and tried to sleep. Neither one was successful.

After fifteen very long minutes, Christine said to Anne "Okay - this is awkward. I can't just pretend you're not in the same bed with me, and I don't think I can go to sleep with you all the way over there." 

After a very nervous pause, she continued "Can I come over? I think I'll sleep better if I'm next to you. Maybe you will too."

Anne's heart skipped a beat, and she answered "Um, okay, sweetie. If that will help you sleep."

Christine scooted over and snuggled up next to Anne, the same way she had snuggled up to her husband. She instantly felt comfortable in a way she had never quite been with Bob, and let out a deep sigh of contentment. "This is nice."

Anne thought it was nice too, but not comfortable at all. She hadn't shared a bed with anyone but her sister since college, and having Christine so close made her more than a little crazy. But Christine drifted off to sleep soon after, and she looked so peaceful that Anne couldn't help but fall asleep herself after a while.

~~~

Anne woke first in the early morning sun, with Christine's long arms wrapped around her. Her conflicting feelings about Christine didn't diminish how wonderful it was. She was content to just lie there and enjoy it as long as it lasted, holding Christine's arms close to her and feeling Christine's breath on her ear. After a few delightful minutes, the room got a little brighter and Christine stirred. As she was waking, she hugged Anne close to her and dreamily said "Good morning, sweetie."

After a happy sigh, Christine rolled over, stretched out her whole body, and rolled back over to look Anne in the face. "See. I told you it would be fine."

'Fine' was not the word Anne would have used, and she was a little annoyed that Christine seemed oblivious to the effect she was having on her. Still, they both slept well and woke feeling rested. The trip was exactly what they needed - a short but exciting break from the routine.