How I Deal

Emil~
(Emil's name is pronounced Eh-Mill, like Emily, without the Y)
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After my father died my mother found it really hard to move on. They were like that one couple out of a million who found each other when they were young and spent their lives together even before they were married and knew that they'd be together forever. So, when he died my mother took it really hard and I though she'd never move on.

I'm not sure when or how she met him because I never asked, but about a year ago she told me she was getting remarried I was really happy for her, she found love again and was finally moving on. I though he was really good for her, he was kind and loving, not just to her, but to me, too. He told me about his son, Jamie, and how I should meet him.

I met Jamie at our parents wedding. He was everything his dad said he was; smart, kind, funny. We got to talk for a while about our interests and school. I felt really uninteresting and dull compared to him. He was really into art, he liked to draw and paint, he could play the keyboard and guitar, he skateboarded, he was a senior at Vista Valley Private Academy and he had a girlfriend who he'd been dating since his sophomore year. He even told me how she wouldn't let him get past first base because she wanted to wait until they were married and he would wait. Then he told me how excited he was to have a little brother, I was excited too, I thought Jamie was the coolest person I'd ever met.

When my mother and I moved in with Jamie and his father, Jamie's dad was still cleaning out his office to turn into a bedroom for me and it wouldn't be ready for a few days. Until it was ready I had sleep in Jamie's room, and at the time I didn't mind, I was actually kind of happy. Jamie didn't seem to mind either. That night after dinner Jamie and I went up to his room and my mom came up shortly after to give me a sleeping bag and pillow then she kissed me good night and I thought it was the most embarrassing thing for her to kiss me like I was a five year old, in front of Jamie. Then Jamie asked for a kiss too. Mom kissed him, told us "Good night" then left and he told me how much he missed having his mother do that to him before bed.

We sat together on his bed and talked. We talked about our pasts, our parents, our friends, and then Jamie started asking me questions. Questions that were personal and embarrassing but felt comfortable answered them to him, and for every question I answered he also answered. We were up until about two in the morning just talking.

Then he told me he was tired.

He got off the bed and I watched him strip out of his shirt and pants and discard them in a corner of the room. I felt awkward with him standing in front of me clad only in his boxers. He asked me if I was going to get ready for bed and I felt my face heat up with more embarrassment. I could never talk my clothes off in front of other people, even at school; I would find myself locked in one of the stalls in the locker room when changing for gym. I wasn't proud of my body. He stared at me for a while before my trembling hands reached down to pull up my shirt. When I got my shirt off he asked me if I was embarrassed and I answered before he finished asking what I was embarrassed of. He laughed then turned away while I took off my pants. When he turned back I tried to cover myself and he laughed again then told me there was no need for me to feel embarrassed around him, and then he told me I had a nice body and he'd like to paint me some time. I don't have a lot of guy friends, but I'm pretty sure guys don't tell other guys they have nice bodies or that they want to paint them. But the complement made me smile a little and I told him how the guys in the locker room used to tell me I looked like a boob-less chick. He laughed again and so did I and I felt comfortable again.

However, when he locked his door and took me by my arm back to his bed all comfort fled and panic washed over me. He said his bed was big enough for the both of us, and it was, and he didn't want me sleeping on the floor. I tried to refuse his offer but he wouldn't let me. He pulled me into bed with him and drew the covers over us. He asked me if I was comfortable and I nodded because I was too scared to speak. I had turned my back to him and faced the door. The entire time I laid there I wanted to throw the sheets off and run out his room to my mother.

"Come on, Em, don't be so tense." He said to me before wrapping an arm around me. "Relax."

It didn't feel right and I didn't want to sleep. I was terrified of closing my eyes and I fought against them but they wouldn't stay open. My body relaxed on its own as my eyes drifted close.

I was on the brink of unconsciousness when it happened. At first I thought I was dreaming but when my eyes opened it didn't stop. My name was moaned from between his lips and his body pressed closer to mine. My heart quivered in my chest and I bit my bottom lip until I tasted copper. The arm Jamie had wrapped around me had found its way south and under the waistband of my boxers. I could hear the sound of flesh on flesh over the screaming in my head and his soft moans as he drew his hand back and forth on the part of me I never dared to touch in such a manner.

As hard as it may seem to believe, I've never masturbated, nor have I ever though about doing it. Sex is not a subject I'm interested in and I've always though of the act of doing what Jamie was doing to me to be shameful.

I was too scared to push him away or stop him so I closed my eyes again and prayed to God to make him stop. He never stopped, in fact, he went faster and I could feel my body responding to him. I had to turn awkwardly to bury my face in the mattress to stifle the sounds that threatened to escape my throat. A single, audible moan slipped through my lips as my body shuttered with pure bliss.

It felt so good.
It felt disgusting.
I felt disgusting.

I had always heard the guys in the locker room talking about how good it felt when they…came… I never really thought it would, but it did and a part of me enjoyed it. I hated that part of me.

He never pulled his hand back once I had "finished", instead he continued to lightly stroke me. I really couldn't believe that had just happened. I felt so dirty.

I silently cried myself to sleep that morning.

I woke up around 10 am and Jamie wasn't lying next to me. I went to the bathroom and took the longest shower I had ever taken in my life. I was terrified to wash down there… I could still feel his fingers moving over it.

Dirty. Filthy. Unclean.

The words became a mantra in my head as I leaned against the cold tiled wall of the shower while the hot water scorched my skin. I turned the heat of the water up more, hoping it would burn away the filth of my flesh.

Dirty. Filthy. Unclean.
Make me clean…

It was my mother knocking on the door telling me I'd prune if I didn't get out soon and that my breakfast was getting cold, that broke my mantra and brought me back.

When I made my way to the kitchen I spotted Jamie sitting at the breakfast table, talking to my mother who was already preparing lunch. Jamie's father had gone to work much earlier, leaving just the three of us. When Jamie saw me he smiled and greeted me. He acted as he had when I first met him. He acted as early this morning never happened. I was reluctant to sit next to him but I didn't want my mother to question my decision on eating elsewhere.

I was ill at ease the entire day around him. I wasn't comfortable with being alone in a room with him, so I clung to my mother's skirt like an infant and he followed.

"Em, are you excited about Monday?" He'd asked me with a huge grin plastered across his face. I had no idea what he was talking about.

"Don't you remember, dear?" I looked at my mother and shook my head then thought about all the things that could happen on Monday.

Nothing's supposed to happen on Monday, I'm just going to school.

School.

I wasn't going to my school. I was going to Jamie's school. With Jamie. My heart fell into my stomach and I felt sick. I guess my ailment was noticeable because she asked me if I was feeling alright and felt my forehead then she told Jamie to bring me upstairs so I could lie down. When Jamie grabbed my wrist and pulled me behind him I felt my breakfast making its way from my stomach to the back of my throat.

When he got me into bed he smiled down at me and I could see the evil glint in his eyes. I began to pray to God again, hoping he'd hear me this time and when my mother came up I thanked him. She said she was going out to buy soup and herbal tea for me. I cursed God.

I told her I was fine and she didn't need to go, but she didn't hear me. When I heard the car outside start up I ran to the window and watched her pull out the drive way and disappear down the road.

The feeling of Jamie's body pressing against my back frightened me. For a second I had forgotten about him. He wrapped both his arms around me, pinning my arms to my side and purred in my ear, "So glad we'll be going to school together." His hands slip under my shirt then he drew his blunt fingernails down my chest and abdomen. I was in tears when he unbuttoned my pants and drew the zipper down. And he did it again. Standing in front of the window for the world to see, he molested me, and then he made me return the "favour". Somewhere in my sexual abuse I had asked him why and he said because he was tired of waiting for his girlfriend and because I was pretty and he could always attain me. I would suffice for his sexual appetite.

"I'll tell!" I threatened him and he laughed

"Tell, go ahead, and ruin our parent's marriage."

I didn't understand what he meant.

"My dad will always choose me. You tell and your mom will leave because my old man won't do anything about it. Our parents will separate and get a divorce and they'll both be unhappy and it'll be your fault because you told. Really wanna make your mom unhappy, little brother?"

I shook my head.

"Then shut your mouth! Or…better yet, put it to good use." He pushed me down on my knees… I'd never done something so humiliating and repulsive.

It happened almost everyday. At home. At school. Outside. It didn't matter where, as long as he was flustered and I was in arms reach. Once he did it while we were out at a really nice restaurant for dinner with our parents. When he got tired of "playing" with me under the table he spilled his drink on me then offered to take me to the bathroom to clean me up. Our parents where completely oblivious. When we got to the bathroom he didn't even pull me into a stall and every second his hands were on me or he had me on my knees I was internally panicking someone would walk in on us. He didn't care. He never cares.

"Open your eyes and look at me, I want to watch you cry." I'd hear this every time it happened.

No matter how many blistering hot showers I took or how hard I scrubbed at my skin or washed out my mouth I could always feel his touch on my skin and taste him on my tongue. I was always dirty. Always filthy. Always unclean.

When my room was ready I quickly moved into it, wanting to get away from him as soon as possible. Having my own room I finally felt safe in that house. My door was locked ever minuet I was in there because I surely didn't trust Jamie not to wonder in at night because he missed having a warm body in bed. But even with my door locked and Jamie no where around I felt him. I always felt him. It was as if his touch was burnt into my skin. Some nights I'd wake up in cold sweat because his invisible hand was stroking me or his fingers were dancing across the inside of my thighs then running up my sides. So I'd take more hot showers but they hardly helped. I could still feel him after I turned off the water. I still felt dirty. I didn't know any other way to make his touches go away. The hot water only worked for as long as I was under it.

Hot. Heat. Smoldering. Burning. Fire.

The night I figured how I could get rid of his touches I stole the lighter from the kitchen and took refuge in my room. The first lick of the flame against my skin made me cry out in pain but I held it there until the hairs burned off and my flesh turned a grotesque shade of red. I did it to most of my body in places I could hide the burns but I was never able to burn the skin where it needed to burned the most. I was too scared of the pain and damage I might cause to the over sensitive area. Nevertheless, I couldn't feel him anymore. My skin was too numb from the torture it had just endured. I was able to sleep peacefully the rest of the night.

I was so happy with being able to feel mostly clean again, but I never thought of the scars that would take over my body from the fire. We were in the boy's bathroom at school when Jamie discovered my burns. He wasn't pleased with what I'd done to my body; he said he was disgusted by it then forced himself down my throat, held onto the sides of my head and thrusted a few times before emptying himself in my mouth. It took everything for me to not spit. He waited patiently, as he always did, for me to swallow. It felt slimy running across my tongue and down my esophagus. I coughed a few times before he helped me up and pulled me into an embrace, telling me he'd "take care of those nasty burns when we get home." I never wanted to go home.

That day when we got home he brought me to his room, stripped me, sat me on his bed and examined my body before treating my burns. He was happy to see I didn't burn my uh…genitals… Then he threatened to tell if I ever did it again and made me promise.

"I promise…"

"What a good boy you are, Emil." He coaxed as his hand went to work at what it did best before being replaced by his mouth. The contact made me bite down on my tongue to keep myself from crying out. I could feel that sinful part of me enjoying it as the rest of me fought back against giving in. My body betrayed me though. When he stopped and pulled away I was a sobbing mess. I didn't want him to stop and I hated myself for wanting more.

"I'm done with teasing you." Relief washed over me "Want you on your hands and knees now." Trepidation slammed into me.

"W—what?" My heart jumped into my throat. I'd never been so terrified in my life.

Jamie took off his shirt and undid his pants and I sat before him shaking with fear and anxiety. Annoyed that I hadn't done what he said he shoved me back onto the bed then flipped me over before grabbing my hips and pulling me back towards him.

"Oh, God, please don't, Jamie." I begged him while he rubbed himself against me. "Please…no!"

"Hush, little brother. I know you want this just as much as I do, your body is screaming for it." His hand went back to stroking me and another soft moan escaped my lips and I could feel my body involuntarily leaning into his touch. "See, no matter how much you say "No", you really want this. Don't worry; I'm going to take good care of you…give you exactly what you want." It all happened so fast it took a while for my brain to register the pain exploding throughout my entire body. Thrust after thrust, my body jerked with every stab that distributed another load of pain through it. I didn't fight him or struggle though. I didn't want to make it worse than it already was. I took it. I took him. All the while trying to figure out if this was still rape because I wasn't resisting him, but I didn't want him either.

I could hear him over me panting obscene words and moaning my name over and over as he moved faster and harder, slamming into my body with more force than needed. It hurt. My groans and cries of pain could hardly be heard over his moans of pleasure.

It seemed like forever until it was over. I was in too much pain and too tired to move so I stayed in his bed. Jamie moved next to me and praised me for doing so well then kissed my lips lightly before draping his arm over me. I never said anything back. Within a few minuets Jamie had fallen asleep and I tore his arm from over me before heading to the bathroom. I turned the water in the shower to the hottest setting and stood under the scalding drops that burned my skin as each one struck. I was dirty again and not just on the outside. I could feel the tears leaving my eyes, but I couldn't tell which burned more, the water, my backside or the tears.
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