Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: Unnatural Thirsts


Summary: A brother and sister grow close over her unusual diet... 


Keywords:inc,fic,erotic,young,sex







   My First Message To You

   ---------------------------------------------

   I got to thinking one day while you were out.  What if something
happened to me?  I know you'd be fine, I'm not so self-important as to
think you need me to survive.  Honestly, given the differences between us,
I just think it's likely that you're going to outlive me, probably by
decades if not longer.  I just wanted you to have something that you could
read to remind yourself of me from time to time, if you were so inclined.

   No matter what the future brings, please remember that I love you.

   With Love,

   Your Brother

   Oct 29th, 20xx

   ---------------------------------------------

   Eyes and Hunger

   ---------------------------------------------

   You were always a cuddly thing.  You probably wouldn't want to be
thought of that way, but really its impossible for me to start without
saying it.  One of my earliest memories of you is you in your crib, crying.
Even then you were skinny, with huge eyes.

   I went over to you, I had to have been four, while you were twelve
months.  I'd been napping and your crying had woken me up.  I assumed you
were hungry and was going to go get mom, but you stopped crying as soon as
you saw me.  You stood up, held out your arms and made that grabby-hands
motion that all babies do.

   I knew, unerringly, that you wanted me to come over.  So I did.  You
gave me an awkward hug through the bars, so I guess I figured out that you
just wanted someone to cuddle with.  I knew how to open the crib door, so I
did.  And I got in with you and lay down and you cuddled with me and that
was that.  We finished our naps until mom found us.  She was surprised but
not upset.

   From then on I ended up napping with you fairly often.  When you were
old enough to get your own bed, you found me.  It didn't always happen, but
usually a few times a week I woke up to you cuddling up to my back.  I
never complained and mom never really separated us. 

   I think she understood that we were different, even then, and that we
needed different things than most kids.

   * * *

   Any story about us has to start with our family.

   I loved visiting our mother's parents, but they were strange too, and
never seemed to be living in the same place.  Grandfather kept ravens as
pets and grandmother would brush leaves and ivy from her hair every morning
at dawn.  They told the most wonderful stories, however, and always as if
they were there.  I know that you met them and they loved you, but that may
be too early for you to remember.  They've since passed on but I don't
think they ever died. 

   So, unsurprisingly, mom is special, but I think you knew that already.
All you need to do to prove it is look in the mirror and see how her fae
beauty mixed with your father's predatory sensuality to make something
wonderful and unique.  Which of course is to say nothing of our mother's
kindness, strength, and intelligence.  And naturally special women like her
attract special men. 

   I doubt mom ever told you the details, but I think she really loved my
dad.  It broke her heart when he lost his ability to cope with his gift,
and started to drink.  He turned abusive.  I guess he hit her once while
she was pregnant with me and she took off before he had a chance to do
anything worse.  I've never missed him.

   Your father came along when I was about three.  I don't remember much of
him, but my recollection is that he was tall with soulful eyes, like yours.
I do remember that I was very shy around him.  This worried mom because I
was usually outgoing and she asked me about it over breakfast once.

   "Why don't you ever talk to William?"

   "Because he's scary," was my response.  This really concerned her,
especially after what happened with my father.

   "Did...did he hurt you?  Or frighten you?"

   I just shook my head.  She was confused so she kept asking questions.

   "Do you like him?"

   "Yeah.  He's nice, I like him."

   "Well then why do you call him scary?"

   "Because he is.  He's scary like Mr.  Lee.  But I like him, and he loves
you a lot."

   She just chuckled and ruffled my hair.  Mr.  Lee was what called every
single character that Christopher Lee played in the old Hammer Films that
we watched together.  She told me that was when she knew that I had my
father's gift, because even she hadn't figured out your father completely
yet.

   Mom was usually careful but your father moved fast.  What do I mean by
that?  Within a few months mom sat down with me and told me that I was
going to have a little brother or sister in seven months.  She tried to be
happy but she was also sad inside.  Not about you.  Your father disappeared
as soon as he heard that mom was pregnant with you.  She just assumed that
she had misjudged him, and that he was just another untrustworthy man
unwilling to take responsibility for his child.  She was wrong, but we
wouldn't find that out for a long time.

   I ended up spending a lot of time with our grandparents at the end of
mom's pregnancy, because of complications.  I'm not trying to make you feel
guilty, its just a part of your story.  They made sure that I was ready for
the responsibilities of being a big brother.  For all the sickness mom had
while she carried you, you came along just fine, much more quickly and
easily than my birth.  Mom said that you were ready to see the world.

   I wasn't really sure about having a new sibling, but I loved you from
the first moment I saw you.  Its corny, I know, and I don't mean it in a
weird way.  I just felt that you were really special and that it was my job
to keep you safe.  I remember this very clearly, even though I was so
young.

   So, we grew up together.  We got along most of the time, we fought some
of the time.  I grew up tall like my father and you grew up thin like
yours. 

   When I was about twelve, mom started running out of money.  She never
told us, but I knew.  So I offered to start babysitting you.  She was
understandably worried about me taking care of a nine year old, but I
wasn't.  You were always observing with your big eyes, and sure you were
incredibly curious and that got you into trouble, but you weren't bad.  And
of course, even though you could be whisper quiet, you couldn't ever sneak
up on me, although I might have pretended you could once or twice.  It was
easy keeping you out of trouble.  All I had to do was pay attention to you,
answer your questions, and let you hang out with me if I went outside. 

   Time passed.  Your grades were better than mine and my teachers were
always telling mom that I was "distracted" in class, but that I did well on
homework.  Mom understood, and there wasn't much she could do about it, but
she kept me off of any drugs, because my problem wasn't ADHD.

   I'm not going to really talk much about my problems, because you've
always had the greater burden. 

   Mom tried to keep it from me.  I'm not really sure why, except maybe to
keep me from worrying and maybe out of respect for your privacy.  You were
always very sensitive of your differences from other people, and you were
always concerned about what mom and I thought about you.  You never really
had to worry, however.

   I know that you started to get sick when you were ten.  I heard you
throwing up and night and I could see your revulsion at a lot of the food
you were given.  You grew paler and thinner, and you were already a skinny
child.  I saw the dead squirrel in the living room before mom could get rid
of it, desiccated and oddly without any bad smell, but I didn't understand
how it got there.

   Mom, being wise, started going to the old butcher's shop a few blocks
away, telling them that she was making some old German family recipes. 
She'd wake you up at midnight and tell you it was time to drink one of your
"special shakes".  Then you'd go to the kitchen for about twenty minutes,
and come back to your bed, or sometimes to cuddle with me in mine.  You
stopped getting sick.  You grew like a weed and your eyes were bright. 
This is when your hair changed from dark brown to a deep glossy black.  You
didn't like it at first and said it made your pale skin look ugly.  I
laughed and you looked up at me, surprised.

   "You look like a movie star, you dork," was all I said.

   "No I don't, I look hideous."

   "Are you really complaining about having the most beautiful hair I've
seen?  And yeah, you're pale, but its, like, perfect."

   "Perfect?" you said, skeptically.

   "Perfect."

   You were still doubtful, but you accepted my word for the time being.  I
like to remember this conversation because of how vain you are now about
your long hair and flawless skin.  It's actually kind of adorable.

   Time passed.  You turned thirteen and got the tablet you really wanted,
the one with the stylus so you could draw with it.  It was really amazing
seeing your eyes light up when you opened it. 

   The "shakes" stopped being enough soon after .  This time you kept it
from mom, afraid of what you might have to do to survive.  I don't know
what your fear was, exactly, but I think most of them involved you being
separated from your family, the only people that truly understood you.  You
got in trouble later but I don't think you should have.

   I didn't figure it out at first.  It took me a few times.

   I woke up to you cuddling with me in bed, as normal.  I went back to
sleep, a deep, dreamless void.  I woke up and felt a little lightheaded. 
Mom noticed.

   "Are you ok?"

   "Uh, yeah.  I think I'm a little sick or something, but I'm ok."

   I was moving around just fine so she didn't worry.  I ate a huge
breakfast and drank a ton of OJ and by the time school was over I felt
normal.

   The second time I didn't figure it out but I should have.  I woke up to
you crawling into my bed.  You had kind of a guilty look but I just assumed
it was because you'd woken me up.  The next day you were gone before I got
up.  Mom came in and told me to get up in her hassled-mother voice.  I had
slept through my alarm and mom had to get us off to school before she went
to work.

   I stood up fast, not wanting to make things worse.  I remember feeling
really awful and weak and then I was looking up from the floor and mom was
worried but you were beside yourself.  You were bawling your eyes out and
that was scarier to me than how I felt.  If mom hadn't been so worried
about me then I'm sure that she would have puzzled it out. 

   I ended up at the hospital.  I had a lot of tests and shots and
questions.  You were out in the waiting room but I could feel your guilt
from there.  Mom didn't want to leave me alone but eventually she took you
home and promised to be back early in the morning.

   She came back and she tried to be nice but she was so mad.  You were
guilty and sad and I knew that you had fought, but I couldn't tell about
what.  I was diagnosed with "Nonspecific Anemic Disorder" and sent home
with iron pills and special shots. 

   I got home and stayed home from school for a week, which was awesome. 
All I did was play PS2 and read.  Things got back to normal for a few
weeks, but then you got a little sicker.  I noticed immediately and was
worried.  I began to put things together, remembering that you were very
pale the night before I got really sick, and then the day after you were
healthy with a flush on your cheek.

   I woke up to mom asking you in kind of a loud voice what was wrong and
why you had stopped.  I remember looking at the clock and seeing that it
was two-thirty in the morning.  I had a really bad feeling so I ran
downstairs.  Mom had a bite mark on her outstretched arm, the pinprick
marks of your teeth already closing.  You looked up at me, your pallor
almost greenish, you were so sick.  Then your expression turned to fear,
and you vomited blood all over the kitchen floor.  Mom panicked.  Normally
I probably would have too but I finally understood everything clearly.

   Your dad was like Mr.  Lee, so you were too.

   "Why can't you keep it down?" mom said, with a bit of an edge to her
voice.  She was worried about you and I had just seen what I wasn't
supposed to and she was afraid that her family was falling apart. 

   "I don't know!" you yelled through sobs.  You were afraid of dying but
even more than that, getting kicked out by mom or being hated by me.  "It
just tastes awful.  It's like drinking my own!"

   "Well you can't just keep taking from your brother!" mom shouted.  This
was the first time her reserve had cracked in front of me, and I could feel
hopelessness radiate off of her like a fever.

   "Yes she can," I said, for once the least emotional person in the room.

   "No," you said, before even mom could open her mouth, "I can't.  I put
you in the hospital."

   "Because you drank too much.  You just need to take a little less.  And
I have iron pills and shots.  And I think I can eat more meat and stuff. 
Can you control yourself a little better?"

   You thought for a moment, and then nodded. 

   "I'm sorry.  You just tasted too good.  I wanted more and I had too
much. The second time I thought I killed you."

   Then you cried and you hugged me and got blood all over my PJs but I
didn't care. 

   "See mom, she can just wake me up when she needs some and I'll stay
awake and I'll tell her if I start feeling bad.  And you'll stop, right?"

   Mom nodded, desperate for a solution.  We all got cleaned up and changed
clothes while mom cleaned the floor, and then you drank just what you
needed from me and stopped right when I asked you too.  The small wounds on
my arm healed in minutes.  Thats how things worked for a long time.

   We were close before that, but this was different.  It was intimate, but
not sexual, at first.  It was simply a connection between us that hadn't
existed before.  I got to the point when I could tell that you were getting
too hungry before you knew it, and I didn't need to tell you if you were
taking too much.  Once every three weeks, like clockwork, we had this
special, strange moment, and then you cuddled into my back and I went to
sleep.  I think mom was really proud of both of us because we really solved
the problem without her.

   I'm making it seem simple though, and it wasn't.  You've always been
pretty and you grew up gorgeous.  I may be biased but I've heard plenty of
my friends say it, too.  And as we grew up together, I started to feel a
lot more strongly about you in ways that I wasn't familiar with.  I didn't
have crushes on other girls because I had a crush on you, blended with
platonic feelings and the urge to protect you.  As you grew older it grew
stronger and more complex, deeper and sexual.  I didn't pine after you
exactly.  I dated.  I had sex with "appropriate" partners.  I just never
connected deeply with anyone.  Eventually I accepted that I wouldn't just
get over you, and I resolved to conceal it from you, because you had enough
to worry about without having a weird obsessive big brother.

   And that's how our little family worked for a long time.  It didn't
really change again until I was twenty-one and you were eighteen. 

   ---------------------------------------------

   Night Call

   ---------------------------------------------

   Mom was working that night, although she'd just gotten her "big
promotion" so she was working far less hours.  But you already knew that
mom was lying, and I wish you'd told me.  Neither of you could, and
objectively it was the right thing to do, but it still hurt, you know?

   Anyway, mom was working, and I was studying which was pretty normal. 
You had become the most natural goth girl of all time, and were embraced
for your kindness, cleverness, and beauty.  That and you were the master of
coordinating black vintage clothing with heavy makeup.  Mom thought it was
too much but I thought you looked amazing.  You didn't spend as much time
with me, but I knew that you'd pull away some point and I accepted it as
part of life.  We still talked pretty frequently, in any case.

   So, I was knee deep in music theory when my phone rang.  I saw it was
your number and I figured you needed a ride because maybe you'd had too
much to drink.  In a way, that was correct.

   "Can...can you come pick me up?"

   The fear and shame in your voice set off every one of my older brother
red flags.  I didn't even question what you wanted, I just got your address
and drove out at a speed that neither you nor mom would have approved of.

   I didn't need to find the right apartment number because I could hear
the shouting from outside.  I didn't knock but just went in.  I saw your
friends look at me gratefully, hopefully.  They were basically good people
and I could tell that one of them had been trying to talk this dickhead
down while his friends laughed drunkenly or just sat there in shock at the
anger he was displaying.

   He had a douchey haircut and badly coordinated clothing.  His neck had a
bite mark, ragged and red and seeping.  And most importantly, he had your
thin arm in a vice grip and was shaking you while he screamed profanities
at you.  He called you a twisted little cunt and something in me snapped
just a little bit, although I didn't show it.  It was plain to me what had
happened.  We really should have seen this coming. 

   You'd gone out to party and have fun.  You met a boy you thought was
hot. You started getting physical and in the heat of the moment, you bit
him.  Rather than go with it and probably have the time of his life, he
fought you, pulling away, tearing at the wound so it wouldn't heal fast
like it normally would. 

   "And who the fuck are you?" he shouted at me.  But I ignored him,
searching you for a sign of injury, serious or otherwise.  You weren't
being passive though.  You were trying to pull free from him but he was
just too big and you hadn't really learned to apply yourself to such things
yet.

   "I'm her brother.  Let her go." I said, calmly.

   "Not yet.  Not until this little psycho bitch apologizes.  And she can
apologize on her fucking knees.  With her mouth or her ass, I don't care.
She fucking bit me!" 

   "Yeah.  Sometimes people bite each other during sex.  You'd know that if
you'd ever made a woman cum before."

   He was shocked, because lets face it I may be tall but I definitely
looked like an emo kid.  You were shocked because I was always a
peacemaker, finding common ground.  His friends were shocked and just
laughed, which made him even more mad.  In his rage he let your arm go,
which is what I wanted him to do.

   Before now, I'd always just pulled in feelings and thoughts.  Absorbed
them like a sponge and used this understanding to my selfish advantage and
to help others.  I was a mostly good kid I guess.  When I heard what he
called you something changed inside me.  I don't know how describe it.  In
that moment I knew with absolute certainty that I could force my thoughts
and feelings into other people. 

   And then I saw the bruises on your face, the exposed part of your
midriff, and your arm.  He hit me while I was distracted but I honestly
didn't feel it, I was so angry.  I'm a lover, not a fighter, and I went
down hard, but even as I did so he had lost control of the situation.  One
of your friends screamed, another was holding you back because you really
didn't like that he'd done that, and his friends were cheering him on.  I
just sat there and stared at him.  I filled him with fear, and then when he
was full, I pumped more into him.  He was like a water balloon, ready to
pop.  I stood up, slowly, calmly. 

   His swearing tirade had ended.  He was as white as a sheet, and stepped
away from me, falling back onto his ratty couch.  His knock off designer
jeans had a growing wet spot and his pupils had shrunk to nothing.  I sent
him beyond fear.  He rolled over on the couch, twitching, curling up into a
tight fetal ball.

   "If any one of you even thinks about my sister or her friends, I'll kill
all of you," I said.  It was my first real threat and I think I did a good
job of it because everyone shut up.  I waved in your direction and you and
your friends ran out.  I followed and we drove away without any more
trouble, the car silent.  I drove us home and started to feel really bad.
Not because I'd hurt him, but because I felt a new fear from you.  Towards
me. 

   It had faded somewhat by the time we dropped your friends off.  When we
pulled into our drive way we both said "I'm sorry" at once.

   You laughed and it was really good to hear.  You spoke first.

   "What are you sorry for?"

   "I didn't mean to scare you, back there.  I didn't even know I could
do...whatever it was I did..."

   "What you did is drive out in the middle of the night to help your dumb
little sister and her friends.  That was amazing.  I'm sorry because I was
stupid.  I hopped into bed with that dipshit like an idiot and then I got
too excited and bit him.  It felt so natural, I thought he would go along
with it.  But he didn't."

   "You don't have anything to apologize for either.  Everyone makes
mistakes, and trust me...a lot of people would have absolutely no problem
whatsoever being bitten by you during sex."

   "How would you know?" you asked, skeptically.

   I didn't answer but I did look at you and give a knowing little smile,
before I got out of the car.  Your curiosity was piqued and you caught up
with me as I was unlocking the door.

   "Wait, you let girls bite you during sex?  Wait a minute. You have sex
with girls?"

   "Wow," I said, laughing at your reaction, "I'm a little insulted.  But
yes, I do, from time to time, have sex with girls.  Sometimes they even
nibble me.  I'm told I'm delicious."

   In point of fact I was pretty successful in dating.  My gift let me find
the girls who were after what I was, which was no-strings-attached fun. 
And my gift means that I know exactlywhat someone needs, even if they
don't tell me.  In fact, sometimes I knew what someone wanted when even
they had repressed it down so far that they weren't aware of it.

   As you closed the door you just looked at me with a strange mix of
slight resentment and...strong desire.  I hadn't ever felt that from you
before, or at least I'd never allowed myself to notice it.  You looked at
me and saw that I had sensed what you were feeling and blushed the
brightest shade of red that I'd ever seen.

   "I'm sorry," I said, "I didn't mean to, uh, feel that."

   "It's fine," you said, although it didn't seem that way, "actually its
good.  I...I need to talk to you about something before I talk to mom.  Not
here.  I need to get cleaned up and I'll come to your room later, after mom
gets home."

   You walked away, leaving me worried and confused.  I went back to my
room and tried to study.  Failing to be able to concentrate at all, I took
a shower and pretended to watch tv in my boxers.  Mom came home and said
good night to both of us before collapsing into her own bed, exhausted from
the long day, so I assumed.  Five minutes later I heard a slight knock at
my door and you peaked around it without waiting.  Then you slipped inside
and closed the door carefully.  None of this kind of secrecy was normal.

   You were dressed in your normal night wear, a t-shirt and presumably
underwear.  I say presumably because, well, you'd ditched them but I didn't
know that yet.  You came and sat next to where I was on the bed, but were
silent.  I felt anxiety come of you in waves.

   "Drinking...isn't enough any more."

   "What?" I sat up, alarmed with thoughts of how things might escalate to
keep you fed.  My deepest fear for years had that you'd have to kill to
survive someday.  I feared that not because I wouldn't have helped you, but
because I would have.

   You looked back at me and understood what my concerns were immediately.
You gently pushed me onto my back, then lay next to me and pulled my arm
around you so that I was spooning you.  We hadn't done this for years.  My
hand was held by yours, resting between your breasts.  I fought hard to
keep my self from getting an erection.  You needed support, not an elder
brother who couldn't keep his pants under control.  Or so I thought.

   "It's not like that.  I've...I've been taking from other people."

   "I assumed you had.  You hadn't been coming to me as often."

   "Are you ok with that?  I'm sorry, I should have asked first but..."

   "I'm fine with it as long as you're safe.  And...I don't think you have
to worry about what I think of you...being with other people."

   I wasn't fine with it, of course, but I didn't want to reveal my
jealousy.  I loved you more than a brother should and I knew that it would
never be returned.  I had decided to never tell you, because I wanted you
to be able to rely on me and I didn't want to ruin what we had.  Also,I
wanted you to be able to live as normally as possible.  I'd felt love come
from you of course, but I'd always interpreted your feelings as being
normal and platonic.

   "I do need to worry about what you think.  Because you should care about
your lover's feelings, shouldn't you?"

   You slid your ass back into me, rubbing up against my cock and I grew
painfully hard almost at once.  I groaned, completely involuntarily, at the
feel of you against me.  I had fantasized about this, often against my
will, and I was more excited already than I had been with any other woman.

   That was enough to break my resolve to keep my feelings hidden.

   "Are you sure...this is what you want?  I love...love you.  I love you
far, far more than a big brother is supposed to.  I think you know that.  I
understand if you don't feel the same way or are disgusted.  I tried to
keep it from you, but maybe I shouldn't have...its not fair to you.  You
don't...have to do this."

   You moved then, smoothly rolling over so that my arm was still around
you, but you were facing me.  You had tears in your eyes, but I could sense
relief and joy coming from you.  And your love for me bloomed and grew and
shifted until it was so complex that I could not even truly understand it.

   "Good.  You hid it really badly, but I needed to hear you say it.  Its
important to me that you said it.  Do you remember how I told you how
people taste different depending on how they feel, right?"

   "Yeah,"I said, trying not to think about my cock being restrained by
your lithe body pressing against me.  To my surprise, even as you spoke you
hooked one leg around mine and ground against me.  I grunted softly and you
moaned.  It was the most animalistic noise of pleasure that I'd ever heard.

   "Mmm...Happy people taste salty-sweet.  Fear is tangy and a little sour.
Anger is spicy.  Aroused is...like mixing any other emotion with a tiny bit
of morphine, not that I've had much of it.  And love?  Love is...god it's
so pure and savory, like the best steak you've ever had."

   "Oh." She'd never explained this in any detail to me before.

   "So I've tasted a lot of people now, not too many, and before tonight I
was always careful.  A lot of it was with other girls, because they aren't
quite as unpredictable as...well, as prey.  I've never killed anyone or
even hurt anyone though.  I learned from being with you how to do it
safely."

   I fairly radiated pride at my little sister telling me that something I
did kept her safe and on stable moral footing.  Even as you ground against
my cock and distracted me in the most sinful way.

   "But you?  You've always tasted better than anything.  Love.  Always
love.  But as time went on, that little jolt of opium would appear now and
then.  Especially if I pressed up against you close while I fed.  Even more
if I slowed down and drew it out, so you could feel my breath hot on your
body before I bit.  It started innocent, I swear.  I was just making you
taste better and it didn't hurt you...and it felt really nice to do these
things.  But...I teased you.  I teased you and I felt you tense up and
eventually I saw that you were hard.  I was so unfair.  It made me wet.  I
even started to cum right after, silently touching myself as I cuddled into
your back.  I just did what I wanted to you, and you never had any idea.  I
never gave you what you gave me."

   As you spoke you interspersed kisses.  Light, feathery things.  On my
collarbone.  On my shoulder.  Then finally one slow soft one on my neck.

   "I love my big brother in ways that no little sister is supposed to,"
you whispered into my ear, "and drinking your life isn't going to be enough
for me.  I need more.  Will you give me more?  Please say that you will. 
You don't know...how much I need this from you."

   "Yes," I said hoarsely, unsure what I was even agreeing to, but knowing
that I would give you anything.  If you killed me, I could say that I died
well.

   You bit me then, and it wasn't the same.  I'd felt your bite, but it
only hurt for a moment, and then for whatever reason the pain left and was
replaced with a pleasant warmth.  Now, I really felt it.  I felt all of
your teeth enter me, and it hurt.  But it also triggered an explosion of
pleasure in proportion to the pain.  I moaned and you grabbed my cock
through my boxers, slid your hand over it lovingly, and then reached in. 
You moaned loudly then, as if feeling my manhood skin to skin was something
you'd fantasized about many times.  If I'd been thinking straight I'd have
worried about waking mom.

   I was on fire, my hands roaming on their own, moving up and down your
back, finding your small, pert breasts, pinching your hard nipples, causing
you to growl in your throat like the predator you are.  You released my
neck, and I felt an ache, a need for your teeth under my skin again.  I
realized that you'd barely drunk anything from me, just a trickle, just
enough to make me feel the pull of my life into you.  I was so aroused that
it was like I was drunk, and you were almost in a rage, a storm of lust and
need.

   You pulled your shirt off smoothly, exposing pale, soft skin and not
panties but your bare, beautiful sex.  Your trim thatch of glossy black
hair.  Your lips, swollen and wet.  And your scent, intoxicating as exotic
incense, making me even harder still.  I wanted you but I still would have
hesitated, tried to slow you down.  I didn't expect things to escalate this
quickly. 

   But I'd given you consent.  Permission.  And to your kind this meant
something deeper than simply saying "yes".  Once one of you is invited a
house, you cannot be denied entry.  Once a lover assents, you do as you
wish.  There are no changed minds, no second thoughts, as I learned that
night.

   In your heat, you gained your unnatural strength that you couldn't call
upon even when that bastard hit you earlier.  You quickly positioned my
cock under your needful sex, and impaled yourself as you consumed it with
reckless hunger.  Then you took my wrists in your hands and pinned them to
the bed with impossible force, beyond your power or weight.  After that you
rode me hard, taking me ruthlessly and without question telling me who I
belonged to.

   Your small pert breasts bounced and rolled with your harsh, fast
movements.  You looked into my eyes and for the first time I saw the dim
red glow of the nocturnal predator.  You opened your mouth.  At other
times, I'd caught glimpses of your teeth when they'd changed, but all I'd
seen was white gleam and sharp points.  Now I could see them, a row of
long, razor sharp things, terrifying to me.  I understood then that you
were doing that on purpose, instinctively.  You were expressing dominance
and instilling fear, making me yours.  Then, like a viper, you struck.  You
bit me.  Not once but many times.  On my chest first and then on my neck,
over and over.  I cried out but no noise came from me, I was unable to make
my breath produce sound.  Each time was exquisite pain, but also pleasure.
As I impaled you on my shaft you impaled me with your fangs. 

   I felt like I was dying, and I didn't care.  I was certain that you'd
lost control.  Or that perhaps this was the natural form your love took. 
That our final consummation would result in my murder.  To my horror, I
welcomed this.  I would have given my life for you but now, I offered it on
the altar fo your desire. 

   God, your internal muscles clenched and gripped my cock, milking and
squeezing it until I thought I might burst.  But I loved it, and you knew
it because I swelled even farther.  I thrust up into you as you rode me,
bruising my member and my waist and hips and legs.  You came.

   Your small, thin body tensed and rolled and shuddered.  You whimpered
and moaned and cried like a cat in heat.  Your pussy crushed and squeezed
and rippled over my cock, not asking but demanding my seed.  I came.  I had
no other option if I did not wish to die.

   It was ecstasy while at last you bit me for the final time, sinking your
teeth deep, deeper than you'd ever dared, and you drank your fill.  My body
went limp but you kept me pinned as your mouth drained my life and your sex
drank my seed.  I came impossibly hard, so much flowed from me that I ran
dry, still pulsing.

   Finally you stopped.  I wasn't dead.  You hadn't taken too much.  You
let go my bruised wrists and licked the wounds you'd made and cooed and
whimpered, nuzzling against my bloody chest.  A sated predator appreciating
her mate. 

   I was crying without realizing it and you looked up, aware again.  You
were concerned and kissed my face, my lips.  I came back to myself to hear
you saying words.

   "Mmm...love.  You were so good for me....so good.  You gave me all of
yourself, held nothing back.  We've always been meant to be like this,
don't you see?  And now...now we're paired.  We're one.  Don't be afraid.
I'll never hurt you more than you need, never take more than you can give."

   I moaned, exhausted and drained, but I loved you more at that moment
than I ever had before.  You looked at me again, realizing the depths of
the damage that you did, your human part reminding you of your partners
fragility.

   "Are...are you ok?"

   Your voice, moments ago that of the most decadent succubus, now was that
of an innocent girl, although I could hear and feel the love in both.

   "Yes," I said, finally smiling now that I realized that I had survived
the storm and filled you with my seed, "that was the best I've ever had.  I
might need you to hurt me again tonight."

   You laughed, giggled really, sweet as honey and sinful as the devil. 

   "I love you," you said.

   "I love you too."

   * * *

   I got up late, which was a necessity after the previous night.  College
was done for the year and it was Saturday in any case, so it wasn't a big
deal.  I wore a long-sleeved shirt to cover the bruises on my wrist and
chest, and my athletic shorts covered the ones on my thighs, hips and
around my groin.  I was sore like I had run ten miles and then done a full
body workout.  I guess I kind of had. 

   Unfortunately, I couldn't cover the ones around my neck.  The wounds had
all closed quickly, accelerated by your loving licks and kisses in the
afterglow, but my throat was a mess of black, brown, and blue.  Also, of
course, my cheek was bruised a little from the punch I took the night
before, but really that was minimal.

   I attempted to hide my state from mom but she knew something was up as
soon as she saw me.  I tried to pass here in the hall on the way to the
kitchen to grab breakfast.  She was dressed up and was obviously going to
meet someone for brunch or something and I really hoped that she'd ignore
me.  No such luck.  She grabbed my wrist when she saw me.  I winced and she
realized that I was injured there too.  Being the mom that she was, she
lifted my shirt and saw, not everything, but enough.

   "What in gods name happened to you?"

   "Um.  A fight." I said, not precisely lying.

   "What?  A fight?  You never fight?  You don't have to fight.  Why are
you lying to me?"

   Goddammit.  It was impossible to fool her, as you well know. 

   I ignored her and walked to the kitchen, desperately trying to power
through this with silence.

   "Did your sister do this to you?  Did she lose control?  You have to
tell me if her...thirst...has accelerated.  You know what happens when you
cover that up."

   I poured cereal in a bowl and then added milk, trying to stay cool by
focusing on the box.  What would Captain Crunch do in this situation?

   "Dammit," she swore, hitting the counter with the flat of her palm, "I'm
still your mother and you will not avoid this." The noise shocked me but
not as much as her profanity.  She believed it was vulgar and never used
it. And, of course, when she used Her Voice, it was really hard not to tell
her the truth.

   I sighed. 

   "I got a call last night..." I started, but I never got to finish.  You
walked in the room, dressed in tights and a Bauhaus shirt (bonus points for
goth authenticity), barefoot and smiling.  You looked more alive than I
could ever remember and you looked at me and smiled in the least subtle way
possible.  You got a yogurt out of the fridge and started eating it.  You
don't really need it, but you have a bad sweet tooth.

   Mom looked at you up and down.

   "Are you responsible for this?" she asked, gesturing in my general
direction.

   "Actually," you said in your snarkiest voice, "I think you're
responsible for that mess."

   I rolled my eyes at your dig at me but mom was not amused.

   "You know what I mean.  Did you lose control?"

   "No.  Well, maybe a little.  But I didn't take too much from him.  I
never would.  I haven't for years and years."

   "The why does your brother look like he just climbed out of a rock
tumbler?"

   "Well, you should be proud of him.  I called him for help last night
because a guy we were hanging out with got violent.  He came over and saved
me.  And he got punched in the face doing it."

   "Oh," mom said, feeling a bit abashed, but then realized that it didn't
explain all of my injuries.  She narrowed her eyes.  "What happened after
that?"

   And here was where you nearly actually killed me.  I swear to all that
is unholy that you almost gave me a heart attack and you've never even
apologized to me for it.  You brat.

   "Well, we came home about a half-hour before you got home.  Hmm, you
went to bed.  Oh, and then I slipped into his room, seduced him, and we
fucked like animals.  It was amazing."

   I legitimately spit out my milk and cereal.  I remember actually feeling
faint, and knowing in my heart that mom would either disown me or just stab
me right there.  I couldn't believe that you would throw me under the bus
like that, without even asking.  You, however, still looked like the cat
that ate the canary.

   Rather than shock or anger or disappointment, mom just felt...annoyed.

   "Really.  You do this now?  Of all the possible times? 
We discussed this."

   "Wait," I finally said, "you discussed...uh...this?  Sex?  Between us?"

   "Of course we did," mom responded, "and we agreed that now wasn't the
time to start this sort of thing.  That waiting until you were done
with school would be better."

   The way that she emphasized the word "school" escaped me in my confusion
and terror.

   "I know, mom," you said, your voice suddenly very reasonable, "but I
couldn't wait any longer.  And he feels the same way.  It...it isn't fair
to ask him to keep giving but never...you know."

   "Fine.  But god help you if you break his heart.  You'll never forgive
yourself."

   And then mom left.  I just stood there, confused.

   "Your cereal is getting soggy," you observed, finishing your yogurt.

   "Are you going to...explain any of that?"

   You sighed, but sidled up to me and hugged me from the side, gently.  It
still hurt but I wanted the contact so badly that I didn't really feel it.

   "Can it wait?"

   "What?"

   "This conversation.  Mom and I talk about a lot of things that are kind
of secret.  A lot of it is girl stuff.  Some of it has to do with my dad.
Some of it I won't share with you.  It's not because I don't trust you.  I
trust you more than anyone.  Will you trust me until I'm ready to talk to
you about it?"

   "Yes.  Although I really think you should have told me that you've had
discussions with our mother about seducing me."

   You laughed, and then let your small hand wander down to my bruised but
eager cock.

   "Actually, she brought it up on my eighteenth birthday.  She thought
we'd already started, because she knew that we were meant to be together.
You were always such a good older brother, though.  You'd never take
advantage of me, not matter how much you wanted to.  Even if I may have
provoked you quite a bit..."

   I set down the bowl and in fact gave up on the entire idea of cereal.  I
was excited now and we were alone together.  You led me by the hand to the
couch and sat me down, then pulled my shirt off like a kid on Christmas
excited to unwrap her gift. 

   "God.  I marked you up all over, didn't I?"

   There was a strange mix of arousal and guilt in your voice.  You looked
at me, a little worried.

   "Are you sure you're ok?  I...I remember doing most of this, but...I
didn't think I was that rough..."

   "I'm better than ok," I said, "but do you think you could maybe go easy
on me for a while?  I don't want to let you down but I need time to heal a
bit..."

   "Oh yes," you purred, sitting next to me, "I can be tender with my love.
Is that what you want?  Do you want your little sister to take care of
you?"

   You gently passed ran your fingers over my chest, around my nipple, down
to my tight stomach.

   "Y...yes," I said, stammering hoarsely.  My bruised member grew even
harder.  Who was this girl who could bring me to such arousal so quickly? 

   "I love being able to affect you like this.  You've always been so
self-composed.  Whenever I was scared or sad you always were like a rock
for me," you said, kissing me on my chest, "now I can made you tremble with
a touch."

   I scooped you up and put you in my lap, so you were straddling me.  You
made a little yelp of surprise.  I pulled your shirt off and you didn't
resist, letting me run my hands over your smooth sides and belly and up to
your perfect pert breasts.  Yeah, its clichÃ(C), but I do love your
breasts. I lifted you up by your little ass and kissed and licked and
nipped at them.

   "Oh...oh fuck.  Yes...I need this...ooooh"

   Your words trailed off as I sucked your nipple into my mouth, squeezing
it between my lips, just the right amount.  I passed my hand over your
side, across your thigh, then dove it between your legs.  I held you steady
with my other hand on your firm little ass, while I gently stroked your
lips through your tights, feeling the spread of warm liquid even through
the fabric.

   "You're not the only one who can have an effect.  I know what you need,
love, even when you don't..."

   "I...oh...oh fuck...yes...please don't stop...I'll..."

   Your words died, not because you wanted to, but because you were too
embarrassed to say what you wanted to say.  We may have fucked like animals
but you were still shy about making some things verbal.  I knew what you
needed to here.  I put my palm over your mons and clit and you ground
against it eagerly, gasping, already near climax.

   "You'll be my good girl?  Is that what you want to be?  Do you want you
be my good...litttle...girl?"

   "Yes...oh yes, fuck..."

   You shuddered and bucked but I held you firmly as you came, sucking your
whole breast into my mouth.  Your tights were soaked and the heat from your
sex was intense.  Now I wanted you, but as you came down I pulled you to me
and you tucked your head into my chest.  No longer a predator but just my
sweet little sister again.

   "Am I?  Am I really your good little girl?  I want to be.  I want to be
good for you, but can I be?  Being what I am?"

   "Yes," I answered, without hesitation, "but can I be a good big brother
to you?  Having fucked you?  I'm supposed to care for you, protect you, not
take pleasure from cumming inside you."

   "Yes," you responded, again without any pause, "it just makes you better
at it.  Mmm."

   You nuzzled my chest, kissing me, then licking my nipple.  You stood up
quickly, then shimmied out of your tights.  It made your body shift and
jiggle in an incredibly erotic way.  Then you looked at me, expectantly,
your smile honest and eager.

   I stood up and took off my boxers.  I couldn't believe that we were
doing this right out in our living room, but I wasn't willing to wait the
thirty-seconds to take you to bed.  I was in a demanding mood that morning,
which is unusual for me.  I'm passive a lot of the time or just
non-confrontational, finessing rather than forcing.  I could tell that what
I was doing turned you on.

   "Go sit on the recliner," I said firmly.  You did.  I walked over slowly
while you watched me excitedly.  You were clearly stronger than I was, at
least when you were excited, but you allowed me to move and position you.
You were sure that I was just going to fuck you, but there was something I
hadn't done yet.  Something I needed to do.

   I pulled your hips forward then put one of your legs over each armrest.
Thank god you're so flexible.  You were completely open and exposed to me,
vulnerable.  Your body flushed red from my gaze, but I could tell that the
way I looked at you excited you, made you understand my desire.  You knew
what I was going to do, but I took my time getting there.  I knelt in front
of you and reached up to play with your nipples, gently teasing and
pinching, harder this time, just enough to be painful. 

   You need pain sometimes, just like I do. 

   I kissed your firm belly and it fluttered, I moved my head, looking up
at you periodically.  You watched me with rapt attention, like a stalking
cat, your lips parted.  You made a little squeak as I moved left and kissed
you on your inner thigh.  You bucked your hips up, desperate for my mouth
on your sex.  I dodged you easily and made a "tut-tut" noise.  You nodded
and relaxed, then looked at me for approval, a look that I've received many
times in the past and that always made me aware of my responsibilities to
you.

   I rewarded your compliance with my tongue, tasting you for the first
time, gently licking up your slit almost but not quite to your clitoris. 
Your sex was puffy and swollen with your need.  You were very wet
and...amazing.

   You worried about how you might smell or taste, but your uniqueness is
itself arousing.  Your flavor was much more savory and complex then any
other woman I'd tasted.  There was a slight coppery saltiness that I
understood was a sign of your nature.  I needed more of you so I darted my
tongue as far as it would go, making wet and sloppy noises that drove you
wild.

   Your body begged me in ways that your voice could not.  I began to be
less selfish and started paying attention to your clitoris with my tongue
while I explored you with my finger.  Even though I'd been inside you the
previous night you felt too tight for a second finger.  I probed you and
felt your g-spot, the first time you'd ever been stimulated there.  You put
your hands on my head and growled like a jaguar in heat.  Your reserve of
compliance was expended, and you pushed yourself into me, holding me in
place so I couldn't escape. 

   I didn't want to.  I sucked your clit into my mouth.  You cried out my
name, your hips jumping, your back arching.  I could feel the emotional
reverb of your orgasm, feel you plummeting, falling into it, lost.  You
were helpless in your pleasure, and you felt safe with me.

   Finally you collapsed and released my head, caressing my hair gently as
if to apologize for your sudden ferocity. 

   I licked you one last time, for me, then looked up into your eyes. 

   "I love you," you said.  I responded by nipping you on the inner thigh
making you yelp and laugh.  I rolled you over and you let me.  I dropped
the back of the recliner all the way and this allowed me to bend you over
completely while you were comfortable. 

   I entered you, more quickly than I should have in my exhilaration.  God
you were so tight, especially from this angle.  Your heat and muscles held
me.  My cock was bathed in your fluids.

   "Oh fuck that's deep," you said.

   "Too deep?  Are you all right?" I'm not the biggest guy, but you are
smaller than I, and this position let me hit places that I hadn't the night
before.

   "I'm...fine.  Just give me a minute to get used to you...again," you
said.  I caressed the pale and soft expanse of your back.

   "As much time as you need.  I'll pull out if you need..."

   "No!  No, I want to do this.  I need to do this for you," you said. 
You'd taken me the prior night and submission to me today was a statement
that you needed to make.  I waited patiently and continued to caress your
back and sides.  I felt you relax under me, you interior muscles loosening.

   "O..Ok...you can move now..."

   I began to move, slowly, gripping your waist with one hand while the
other sat on your back reassuringly.  You whimpered but not in pain, so I
sped up a little.  This had a sudden response from you, unexpected but
welcome.  You came, not in a large way just a shudder and a loud
exhalation. If I hadn't sensed it might have been missed, but the look you
gave me over your shoulder could not have been mistaken as anything but the
heat of passion.

   I rubbed up and down your back, along your spine.  I felt the ripples of
sensation that it raised in you.  I reached around and felt your breasts as
I fucked you, this time rougher, harsher.  You growled and pushed back at
me with each thrust, meeting my force with desire. 

   I fucked you hard, for the first time.  Every stroke drew a moan or a
cry or a whimper, encouraging me further.  I felt your body beg to be
bruised, your strong but tender flesh aching for your brother's cock.

   You gripped the cushion, knuckles turning white.  Your eyes were closed
and your face was beautiful in your focus, your silken hair flowed like a
river of ink down your back.  This image stayed with me in the bad times,
and I always used it to remind myself that we would be reunited.

   Your eyes opened, staring back at me not like a thing of fury and need,
but rather a creature of desire and supplication, only wanting my pleasure,
my seed.  It was too much for me and I came at the sight.

   I felt myself filling you, and you felt my cock swell and pulse in you,
the pressure of my cum near your womb.  It made you cum as well, thrashing
and groaning.  Finally you shuddered on last time, your body covered in
sweat. 

   I pulled out of you and then lifted your small form up.  You nuzzled
into my neck as I carried you to your bed and then lay beside you.  We'd
clean up later, but for now I just wanted to be close to you.  You drew up
on my chest and made a noise between a moan and a purr.

   "You know...you'd make a good predator," you said, gazing at me with the
far-away look of a sated woman.  From you it was a fine compliment. 

   I'd remember it for a long time.

   ---------------------------------------------

   All Gone

   ---------------------------------------------

   When I got up the next day you had already gone out and yet again I ran
into mom in the kitchen.  She just sighed as she looked at me in a resigned
fashion, but I still wasn't looking forward to discussing the inevitable.
We sat in awkward silence as I ate my toast and drank my OJ while she
nursed her coffee.  Eventually she broached the elephant in the room.

   "Are you being safe, at least?"

   "What, you mean like using condoms?" It honestly hadn't even occurred to
me, for which I am embarrassed.  Thankfully you were on the pill, although
we both know now how unlikely it would be for you to get pregnant.

   "No.  I mean do you at least have a safe word or something?  So you can
get her to stop?"

   "Um.  No.  I trust her."

   "Saints preserve us.  She's your sister and she loves you, but she's
more than that and both of you know it.  You have to realize that when
you...um, sleep with her, you're getting into a pool with a shark and then
cutting yourself.  If she makes a mistake and forgets that you're not as
tough as she is, then she could take just a bit too much blood or put just
a little too much pressure on you or even just bite you too deep.  And then
you'll be dead and she'll want to follow you."

   "No.  She'd never hurt me like that."

   She sighed.

   "I hope you're right.  I trust that she loves you but sometimes you two
are too close for your own good.  Well, in any case, I know we're not a
normal family.  At some point I realized that this would happen.  At first
I thought about trying to stop it.  Breaking you two up maybe, sending one
or both of you away to a school or to stay with someone else.  Eventually I
understood that you two were just meant for one another.  That fate felt as
solid as bedrock to me.  What you have is deeper than family and different
from marriage.  I'm not judging and I'll always love both of you."

   "Thank you, mom.  I...I don't think either of us have been happier."

   She teared up a little at that, and I figured out later it was for more
than one reason.

   "Well, I'm glad I ran into you before I had to leave.  As you know, our
money situation is better and I wanted to do something for each of you. 
Your sister always wants more art supplies so she's getting a digital
studio.  You were less easy.  You've never been focussed on the material
world.  But I remembered a certain film and music festival that you were
always going on about..."

   Mom pushed a small envelope across the table to me.  I was so excited
that I ignored the slight wavering I felt in her emotions.  Inside were
plane tickets and VIP passes for the festival, along with a special dinner
with a film director that I loved (and about ten other VIP guests, but I
didn't care).  This was all very expensive and frankly hard to get. 

   I didn't know what to say so I just stood up and walked around the table
and hugged mom.  It was really the perfect gift.  I told you when you got
back and you were excited for me, in a very real way.  I mistook your
slight sadness for missing me while I was gone.  I made a lot of mistakes
that week.

   You came to my room every night, and we made love.  Some nights were
tender and slow.  Others were rough.  My bruises were replaced with fresh
ones, elsewhere.  I think you bit me on every part of my body, and I loved
you for it.  You even tentatively took me in your mouth for the first time.
You were embarrassed by your lack of experience in this regard but you
looked so lovingly at me while you did it.  And you were very careful.

   The only really odd moment was what you told me before I left.  We were
in the afterglow, telling each other the soft nothings that make sex much
sweeter.

   "Are you happy with me?" You asked me the question but I didn't
understand it, not really.

   "Yes.  Can you not tell?"

   "No...I mean...yes, of course I can.  I mean, could you be happy with
me...being the only one?"

   We hadn't discussed it yet but I did kind of think we were exclusive.

   "Yes," I answered without hesitation, "What about you?"

   "Oh," you said, radiating truth, "god yes.  Of course.  Its all I want"

   "Well it sounds like we might be exclusive."

   "No," you said, sadly, "not...not now."

   I rolled over and looked at you, confused, and a little hurt.  I mean, a
second ago you were ready to commit, and now?

   "I'm not sure I understand."

   "It's just...it's too early.  I hope you understand, but there are
things I want...I need...to do before I can be yours and yours alone.  And
I can't ask you to be exclusive while I'm out doing whatever."

   You were sad and guilty but you truly felt this was necessary.  I was
sad but it made sense to me.  You were years younger than me.  I'd had
experiences with quite a few women, more than I'm really proud of, to be
honest.  The idea of you being with someone else hurt, but it made sense.

   Yet another complete misunderstanding.  You both had me so fooled.

   "Um.  Ok.  Will you tell me when you're ready?  Or if you change your
mind and I'm not what you want?  I just...kind of don't want to be in limbo
forever."

   You rested your head on my chest and looked up at me, sadly, but filled
with affection. 

   "I will.  I want you to be my one-and-only and that won't ever change.
Don't ever give up on that.  Trust me."

   I did trust you.

   Overall though, it was a really good week.  Memories of it kept me going
during the times ahead.

   * * *

   You probably won't like this bit.  You might even say that some of it
unfair.  Its true though, in that it was what I felt and thought.  We've
spoken about it, and I understand your reasons, but that didn't make it
hurt any less at the time.

   I don't want you to think that I haven't forgiven you though.  We always
forgive each other.  I suppose that the bitter memories make the good ones
more sweet.

   I got back from the festival.  It had been amazing.  The only thing
missing was you, but I'd taken pictures and found albums and films to share
with you.  Even though it's not really your thing, I knew you'd love
talking to me about it, just as I love speaking with you about art and
history.

   I came home to an empty house.  That was odd, but not entirely out of
character.  Mom had been out of the house at all kinds of odd hours lately,
and you were working hard on your portfolio so you could have been drawing
somewhere or taking pictures for inspiration.  I wasn't worried until I
found the note.

   I'd left my laptop behind because I mostly used it for school and hadn't
needed it.  It was sitting on the kitchen table, when I distinctly
remembered leaving it in my room.  Everyone in our house was big on
privacy, so the idea that someone would just use it without so much as
texting to ask was very unlikely.

   I opened the lid and saw the paper, which had been sitting on the
keyboard, loose.  I picked it up and read it.  It was in your handwriting.
All it said was:

   Remember that we love you.

   --Mom and Sis

   You'd both signed your names, obviously, but I'm not putting that here.
You'd also pencilled in a few creatively drawn hearts, some of which looked
like they were beating or dripping blood.  I felt a wash of affection for
you, and then fear.

   I assumed that you both had to take an emergency trip.  I went to our
storage room downstairs, where we keep our luggage.  All of it was gone. 
That didn't reassure me like it probably should have.  Instead it raised my
anxiety.  I knew that I was missing something.  I went upstairs, thinking
that you might have left some clue as to what was going on in my room.  On
the way I had to pass by your room.  It was empty.

   I don't just mean that you weren't in it, either.  Your bed was gone. 
Your desk and plush chair were gone.  Your dresser and bookshelves and all
of your beloved books were gone.  Your posters and paintings were replaced
by slightly lighter places on the walls.  It looked as though it hadn't
been lived in for a long time.  Mom's room was the same, so I finally went
to my own.

   Everything of mine was there, untouched.

   I suddenly understood all the guilt and sadness I'd felt at various
times during the last few weeks.  I realized that the festival wasn't a
gift, but a way to get me out of the house.  Out of the way. 

   Then again maybe it was a gift, a farewell gift. 

   I never assumed bad intentions on your part.  But it did occur me right
then, and every day thereafter, that it was likely that you would be gone
for years, if not more.  It had to relate to your condition somehow, maybe
even your father, and if so...who knows if you would ever return.  He'd
been absent for eighteen years, after all.

   You told me that we would be together one day, but for those of us who
age and die, especially those of us who had lost all they cared about, that
time seemed a long way off. 

   It was not a good day. 

   I texted you, but your number was cancelled.  Same with mom.  Your email
accounts were gone.  Even your goddamn deviant art profile was shut down,
and I knew you wouldn't have given that up unless something really bad
happened.

   I gave it two days, searching frantically on the internet, while calling
your friends asking if they'd seen you, trying to keep the panic from my
voice.  The only existing account was Facebook, but you were ignoring your
messages. 

   I was ready to report you both missing when the first status update
occurred.  It announced the start of your fantastic European vacation. 
There was a selfie with you and a really good looking French guy. 

   I knew there must be something else going on, but I couldn't help
feeling...discarded.  I closed my laptop for the day, but as the weeks
passed more images would be posted.  New men in most of them.  Athens,
Florence, Paris, Munich, and Prague.  Always your smiling face. 
Occasionally mom too.

   You never replied to any of my messages.

   I gave up on looking for you.  I had to.  The alternative hurt too much.

   * * *

   It was late August by then, so my classes were due to start soon.  I
considered cancelling or dropping them, but I decided that I needed
something, anything, to distract myself or I'd lose my mind, so I kept at
them.  If I needed to support myself sooner than expected, finishing my
degree (major in Comp Sci, minor in Music Theory) would be helpful.

   I went to my ATM the first day back.  I hadn't checked it because I knew
that I didn't have much in it and wasn't sure how the finances were.  I
knew that the bills were paid for that month and that was it.  Fortunately,
we all had the passwords to pay online or that would have been a struggle
in and of itself.

   When I saw my account, I was staggered.  My previous $357.45 was now
$200,357.45.  More than enough to pay bills and taxes for me for years.  I
boggled at even the idea of so much money, much less actually possessing
it. I lived fairly simply, my only expensive tastes being sushi and going
to the movies. 

   Was this part of the farewell gift too?  It made me bitter.  I had
thousands of dollars but not one explanation.  It got worse, ironically,
when I went to my online banking portal and realized that there were two
more accounts as well, one for a stock portfolio and another for liquid
savings.  Added up, it amounted to more than a million dollars.  That would
certainly be enough to assuage your guilt for living me behind.  Especially
if you never had any intention of returning.

   For the first time in my life I didn't have to worry about budgeting and
I didn't care at all.  I'd have given all of it to see you for five
minutes.

   Weeks passed.  I spent every day in a fog, but it was better than the
clarity of the nights.  Sleeping in my room in that empty fucking house was
the worst time.  I ended up picking up two more classes just so I'd have
more work to distract myself. 

   I wasn't hanging out with my friends or listening to music or composing
or doing anything that I loved to do.  I was nothing but school and sleep
and eating, but it was never enough.  My emptiness left me weak to the
vagaries of my gift.  The feelings of other people pushed on mine, even
when I slept.  It was like pinpricks all day, every day.  The happiness or
joy of others was the worst.  It pushed into my thoughts and dreams, as if
the world itself was trying to force me into its image.

   I finally understood why dad drank, and I was tempted.  Not with
alcohol, but I had friends and I went to college.  Pills were easy to find,
mostly Adderall and variants or things to help with sleep.  I suspected
that I could blot this out, at least overnight, but I feared the long term
effects.

   I'm trying to be honest with you, so that isn't entirely true.  I also
wanted my awareness at its highest.  At various times during the day I
thought of you and mom.  I tried to feel for you and then also send my
love. It wasn't like I was spending all of my time, but I feared "missing"
contact, like a phone call with no voice mail.

   I needed contact with you, of any kind.  Instead I found someone else.
Or I guess she found me.

   I wasn't really hanging out with people but I did like being around them
from time to time so I felt less isolated.  I was at the university's food
court, eating some really delicious and unhealthy General Tso's when she
approached me.  I'd never really had trouble getting dates, but I could
always sense when a girl was thinking about talking to me and take the
initiative.  Jeni blindsided me a bit, in more ways than one.

   From my perspective, she snuck up on me.  This isn't true at all,
really. She almost certainly walked over to my table and then stood in
front of me, waiting politely for me to finish typing my thought and see
her.  After I didn't, she cleared her throat and I jumped a bit.  Then I
looked at her and we both laughed.  It was very natural.

   "I'm sorry...I didn't mean to scare you," she said.

   "It's fine, I was in my own world," I said, closing my laptop and
finally really seeing her.

   She was pretty if not beautiful, with curves for days.  Her long brown
hair was in a simple pony-tail with a scrunchy.  Her eyes were light brown
and expressive, and her features straight and fine.  Her sweater was pink,
thin, and tight, and I remember thinking that it didn't suit her.  Not that
it looked bad or that I would criticize her for it, it just didn't fit her,
somehow.  Her jeans were tight as well and showed off an admirable curve of
hip and thigh, with just the slightest gap. 

   If I had to describe her briefly, I'd just call her the
girl-next-door. 

   She smiled at me, and it was warm.  I felt nervousness radiate from her,
she was clearly very eager to make a good impression and there was no doubt
that she was romantically interested in me.  There was sexual attraction,
but the romantic side was almost overpowering.  She must have had a crush
on me at a distance.  In my current state I would have missed it easily.

   "I'm Jeni," she said, "um, we have Philosophy of Music together?  I
don't know if you ever saw me, because I sit sort of in the back while
you're kind of in the front."

   I did recall her now, although I was used to seeing her in earth tones
that suited her well, and also with glasses.  Had she dressed to make an
impression?  I'd never really been pursued like this before.

   I introduced myself, polite if a little cold.  I wasn't really eager for
company.

   "Um.  Do you mind if I sit down?  I kind of need help with something..."

   She was being misleading if not precisely lying.  She did need help but
she mostly wanted to talk to me.

   "Yeah, sure.  What do you need help with?"

   "It's about the writing assignment.  I swear I heard everything the
professors said but I didn't understand a bit of it."

   So we went over it.  I showed her what I had done already, and what I
thought he was looking for.  She asked smart questions and found a lot of
excuses to touch my arm.  On a whim, I asked her out to dinner that Friday.
It had been two months since you'd ditched me.  And you'd told me that we
weren't exclusive, after all.  It sure seemed like you weren't, in any
case.

   We had a good date, just food and talking.  She dressed much more
naturally this time, and I complemented her on her clothes.  She looked
really good in her green blouse and jeans that fit her a little more
comfortably.  I loved the way her glasses looked with her eyes and I told
her so.  She blushed and bit her lip.  Everything about her was cute. 
Wholesome, you might say.

   We ended up back at our house.  I told her that it was my family home
but that most of you had moved to Europe and that I was living here.  It
was close to the truth.  We sat on the couch together.

   "I don't normally do this," Jeni said, suddenly feeling anxious.

   "Do what?"

   "Um.  Go home with men on the first date.  I'm, uh..."

   "I don't generally go home with women on the first date either, unless
its just a sex thing."

   "Is this just a sex thing?" she asked, nervously.

   I pushed some over her loose hair behind her ear.

   "I want it to be more than just a sex thing," I replied.

   "Me too..."

   I didn't let her say any more as I leaned in and kissed her.  She
responded, enthusiastic but not experienced.  You can tell that sort of
thing, you know?  She put her hands around my neck but wasn't sure what to
do with them.  So I moved one of them to my chest as I put mine around her
back and drew her closer.  She inhaled sharply as I reached under her
blouse and rubbed her back. 

   "Just tell me to stop or slow down and I will, ok?"

   She nodded but didn't speak, kissing me now, her tongue darting inside
my mouth.  Her hand explored my chest and when it reached my cock, she
tentatively rubbed it through my pants.  I moaned into her mouth and this
set something off in her.

   She began to unbuckle my belt and unbutton and unzip my pants.  Before
she could reach inside I pulled off her blouse, with her help.  Next came
her bra, and she covered herself, shyly.  I stood up and took off my own
clothes until I was completely nude.  She looked at my cock and her eyes
got wide.  I could tell that while she wasn't a virgin she certainly hadn't
seen many in person.  I helped her out of her pants, and she let me. 

   I looked her in the eyes as I pulled her panties off, then I gently
moved her hands and began to feel her breasts.  They were very different
from yours, large, and soft.  Her nipples were large as well, even as they
became hard under my caresses.

   She moaned and moved as I touched her, pushing her breasts into my
hands. She wrapped her hand around my cock and began to stroke me as I felt
her wet pussy, playing with her clit with my thumb as I gently rubbed her
slit and then slipped a finger inside of her. 

   She gasped and cried out.  It was unexpected and for a moment I was
worried that you'd heard, even though you hadn't been there in months.  Her
eyes told me that she didn't want my fingers or even my mouth, she needed
my cock.  She anticipated my next question.

   "I'm on the pill.  Please...please fuck me, baby..."

   I didn't need a lot of encouragement.  I hadn't really been jerking off
a lot either, so I was very horny.  I got on top of her as she spread her
legs for me, as far as she could.  She had her hands on my chest as I
entered her.  She was tight, although not as tight as you.  In fact, no
part of this was as good as sex was with you.  I felt fondly towards her,
but I'd only known her for about a week at this point. 

   I hope that you know that a good part of the reason I am telling you
this is because I want you to feel a part of what I felt while you were
gone.  It's not revenge exactly, but I still sometimes have nightmares
about you leaving me.

   Besides, if this part of the story really pisses you off, you can always
take it out on me later.

   Anyway, as soon as I entered her, she said something odd.

   "I've wanted this...for so long..."

   File that under the ever-growing list of things that should have alarmed
me about this situation, but didn't.  I was aroused and lonely and at that
moment I felt connected with someone, and it was wonderful.  I didn't have
any trouble feeling what she wanted, either.

   I fucked her, hard.  I didn't fuck her like the near-virgin that she
was, but roughly like she wanted.  She wanted me to bruise her, to hurt her
even, and to leave marks.  I gripped the her hair at the base of her neck,
and pulled her head back sharply, restraining her.  When I did that she
came, immediately.

   "Yes...yes...fucking own me.  Please baby, hurt me, mark me, oh god..."

   Her body quivered and shook in the most appealing way.  I increased the
intensity, and her legs gripped me tightly as I pounded into her.  I saw
that she was crying a little and that just turned me on more.  We played
off of each other, until I was as far as I was willing to go.  She would
have let me hurt her a lot more, probably even hitting or choking her, but
I've never been that guy. 

   As I started to cum, she came again too, holding on to me for dear life
as I filled her with my seed.  She clenched and shook again, crying out my
name.  When we were done she held on to me and kissed me.  She was very
happy and satisfied.

   I felt guilty and wrong.  Like I'd betrayed you in your own home.  I
told myself that we weren't exclusive, but you already owned my heart.The
sex with Jeni was good but I wanted it all to be over.  On the other hand,
I realized I couldn't just kick her out without being a huge dick, so for
the moment I made peace with spending the night with her. 

   After all, if you got home suddenly and found us together, that would be
your fault, wouldn't it?

   As I was just starting to get sleepy, she spoke.

   "I need to go pee.  Do you have any beer?"

   "Yeah, do you want me to get it for you?"

   "Nah, I saw your fridge on the way in.  Do you want one?"

   "Yeah, that would be nice."

   Beer always helped me sleep, so it seemed like a good idea.  When she
came back, smiling, she was a little nervous.  I thought it was because she
was not yet comfortable with being nude around me, and that was probably
true.  I drank deeply.  It was more bitter than I remembered, but then
again it was an IPA.  After a few sips I set it down, intending to stand up
and lead her to my bed.  We'd be more comfortable up there and maybe we'd
fuck again. 

   A funny thing happened, though.  As I put the beer down it seemed like
my hand went numb.  I knocked the bottle over and beer spread over our end
table.  I watched it, unable to get my other hand to do anything to stop
it. Jeni watched me, nervously.

   "I think somethings...wrong...with..." I said as I tried to stand up,
collapsing to the floor.  My last sight was Jeni's feet.  They were pretty
cute.  I blacked out.

   ---------------------------------------------

   Family Reunions

   ---------------------------------------------

   I woke up groggy, not myself at all.  I was in a comfortable if tiny
bed, in a small room.  There were no windows and only one door, which was
metal and looked sturdy.  Like a door at a jail.  There was also a desk
with an uncomfortable-looking chair, a lamp and two books.  One of the
books was a blank notebook with a pen.  The other was 'The Quiet of
Solitude'.  I recognized the author's name.

   It was my father's name.

   My feelings were dead.  I felt fear but it was dulled.  I felt nothing
from anyone else at all.  Was I alone?

   A man came in, startling me.  He was like dead air.  I couldn't feel
anything from him.  Inside I started to panic.  He sat in the chair and I
sat on the bed.  He was much larger than me and as I've said, I'm not a
fighter.  He wore a suit, but his nose was uneven, clearly having been
broken before, and his eyes held no kindness nor warmth.  His buzzcut was
standard thug issue.

   "I'm Roger and I'm going to be taking care of you."

   "Taking care?"

   He laughed, and it was the least reassuring sound I could imagine in
that situation.

   "Don't be worried.  I'm your minder.  I'm going to bring you food.  I'm
going to give you medication.  You're going to help us.  You're going to
help your father, great man that he is, even if you have been
unappreciative of his gifts to you."

   "I didn't even know the fucker was alive unt..."

   My head was ringing.  I tasted blood in my mouth.  I was on the floor.
Roger was standing over me, his face red.

   "You speak with respect for your father or you don't speak at all.  One
day maybe I'll serve you like I serve him.  But until you get your head out
of your ass and your shoulders square with The Program, your ass belongs to
me.  Understand?"

   I nodded, not wanting to get hit again.  It was already hard enough to
think.  Something occurred to me as Roger left.

   "Do you guys have Jeni too?"

   He stopped, laughed his asshole laugh again, and left.  My gift may have
been defective, but that laugh was enough.  She was with them, and had
drugged me.  I wasn't doing well with women lately, but I had to admit to
myself that I'd all but painted "victimize me" on my forehead by the way
I'd responded to her attention.  I heard the door lock behind him.

   I stood up.  It was hard.  I assumed that I was still drugged, and this
was true, but it felt different from whatever Jeni had dosed me with.  I
was tired but not numb.  Unable to focus but not about to pass out.  I went
and got the book that, apparently, my father had written.  I sat back down
with it on my bed and tried to read it.  I couldn't really think of
anything else to do just then.

   I made it pretty far through before I fell asleep again.  It was easy to
read, largely because it was tripe.  I'd taken basic psychology and
sociology, and this was your standard b-grade cult recruitment literature.
A whole lot of promises of personal development and fellowship, with very
few facts.  I could see lurking in the background of the text the standard
tools of the charismatic psychopath: breaking down the personality, making
them dependent on you for all things, making leaving seem impossible,
separating families, and instilling fanatical devotion.  He was, naturally,
the only cure for a corrupt and unhappy world.

   Oh, and let us not forget that sex with the leader was a part of your
duties should he want you.  "No" wasn't an option.  No matter your age. 
Blech.  The book never said it directly but it was pretty clear to me that
my father was at least a statutory rapist.  What had happened to him?

   I had a really bad feeling as to why Jeni had been so eager to sleep
with me, but I put that away for a bit.  Worrying about myself was enough
for the moment.

   Not for the first time, I wondered where you were.  I fell asleep and
dreamed of you finding my body, laid out in a field for coyotes to gnaw on.
Deep in my heart the fear that I would never see you again was growing like
a cancer, and I couldn't stop it.

   * * *

   The next day was really typical of the whole experience, honestly.

   I was woken up by a relatively gentle jostle from Roger.  I was given a
breakfast of oatmeal and told to eat all of it.  Once I was done I was
given some orange juice.  After a while I felt...disjointed.  Like my body
and mind were splitting.  It hurt, too.  I suspected there was something in
the oatmeal, probably some crushed pills. 

   I don't think I was sober the entire time I was kidnapped.

   After I was done, I was led to another room.  It looked vaguely like an
interrogation room.  I was put in a chair and then my arms were strapped
down with thick leather belts.  My torso was secured next.  The chair
itself was made of metal and bolted to the floor, which was concrete.  I
was very afraid, and my vision shook under the weight of my fear and the
drugs.

   In a few minutes or perhaps an hour (my time sense was gone) two people
entered.  One I recognized, Jeni, and the other I just knew.  He looked a
little like me, about my height.  A little overweight, balding, but not too
bad all things considered.  I didn't need any kind of gift to tell he
looked at me with a mixture of pity and contempt.

   They sat across from me.  I noted that their chairs looked a lot more
comfortable.

   "Roger won't be joining us?" I asked in my most bland tone.

   "No," my father said, "not unless you misbehave."

   I moved my arms experimentally.  He'd tightened them with expertise. 
Tight but not so bad that I was losing feeling. 

   "I'm not sure how I could do that."

   Dad laughed.  It was so cold.  Jeni looked uncomfortable and had trouble
meeting my eyes.

   "I don't either, which is part of the idea.  We don't want to hurt you,
son.  None of us do.  Especially not Jeni."

   She nodded vigorously.  I believed her, but at the same time I did not.
I couldn't explain it then.

   "What do you want?  Why did you do this?  Why did you fuck me at all? 
You could have just dosed me..."

   Jeni turned a bright shade of red, but didn't answer.  Dad answered for
her, which I found upsetting for a variety of reasons.

   "Why do people usually fuck each other?  She loves you, son.  She did it
because she loves you."

   I raised my eyebrow skeptically.

   "I do," Jeni insisted, "it's true.  It's what I've wanted for years.  I
know it sounds crazy, but your father, he gave me a picture of you a long
time ago, and he told me what you were like.  We've been watching for a
long time.  And...as time went by...I just started to fall in love with
you. I've...actually interacted a few times with you.  I'm not surprised
that you didn't remember.  I was dressed differently.  Sometimes my hair
was a different color.  But it helped me to better understand you, to
better understand how to...serve you.  That's not so bad, is it?  I never
violated your privacy or anything.  It was hard watching you go home with
those other women who obviously just wanted to fuck you, but I wasn't like
that.  Remember, we talked about it?  I wanted more than sex and so did
you. We...we could still be together."

   I narrowly avoided laughing out loud.  I didn't really want to hurt her,
or endanger myself.  My laughter would have been in reaction to the idea
that I could stay in love with someone who had stalked me on behalf of a
psychopath.  Someone who had such little disregard for my will that
disguise and lies were acceptable parts of courtship to them.

   "Why don't you leave us alone for a few minutes, Jeni.  My son and I
have some family matters to discuss.  He's a little skeptical, but time
will change that."

   He smiled warmly at her and she left, unsure.

   "What do you really want?" I asked.

   "Direct.  Simple.  Just like me.  Good.  We share abilities son, to an
extent.  I can sense emotions and some thoughts, like you.  I might be a
bit more sensitive, because of practice.  But I can't influence others."

   "Neither can I," I lied, badly.  He chuckled.

   "Do you really want to lie to me?  I don't blame you, but it could have
consequences later.  No, you can influence people, as I've suspected for
years.  I was keeping an eye on your mother and you anyway, but when you
put that kid in the hospital.  The one who attacked your sister.  That's
when I knew that you were ready."

   I kept my emotions calm.  I knew that I could be deceived, so I could
deceive my father, but it would mean that I'd have to suppress my emotions
at times, or blend them with others, or provide plausible explanations for
them.  Like what you and mom did before you ran out on me.

   "He's in the hospital?"

   "He was, yes.  Don't feel bad.  He's got priors for sexual assault, but
the charges got dropped.  He was at an institution for almost a month.  The
fear you gave him, son.  My god, it was like nothing I've ever seen or even
read about.  He lived a nightmare for weeks!  Weeks!  It took powerful
anti-psychotics and the best doctors to convince him that he was even
awake! Most impressive!  Its also why we've drugged you, by the way.  I
experimented with shutting down my own abilities, so now I know very well
what will stop yours as well."

   All of my fathers statements were full of a sick sort of admiration.  He
was envious of my abilities, to be sure, but he was also proud of me.  His
boy, the nightmare machine.

   "What...what do you need me for?"

   "Well, if you could teach me how, I wouldn't need you at all, but we
both know that isn't possible.  And it isn't just need, either son.  Your
mother kept you away from me, but I'd like to correct that now. 
Unfortunately just approaching you on the street wasn't possible.  I have a
great deal of work to do here, and the secular authorities don't approve of
most of it."

   "The cops, you mean.  You have warrants?"

   He nodded jovially.

   "Yes.  And of course, there's The Program to consider."

   You could actually hear the capital letters.

   "Whats...The Program?"

   "It's the future, son.  I have no difficulty influencing others to a
degree.  Recruitment is easy.  I know what people need to hear and feel to
progress in their lives.  But what I need is a platform.  Others have
celebrities, and they've become untouchable if corrupt institutions.  I
want politicians and the families of politicians.  I want police chiefs and
directors of agencies.  I want the heads of NGOs and congressmen.  And the
only way to get them with any sort of efficiency is to change their minds.
Literally."

   "You want me...to mind control people for you?"

   "Yes.  And kill them if necessary."

   "I...uh...I have no idea how I might accomplish that."

   "Sure you do.  You're not lying to me right now, I know, but if you
think about it it's really not that hard.  Make someone so afraid they have
a heart attack, or so hopeless that walking in front of a train seems like
a good idea, or so angry that they try to stab a cop.  There are hundreds
of ways that you could kill.  And lets face it, the way you'd do it would
be very hard to prove as anything other than suicide or independent
action."

   I was, to put it mildly, horrified.  I guess everything he said was
possible, but the idea of killing for something like what he really wanted,
wealth and power, disgusted me.

   He felt that and his expression soured.

   "Think carefully before you speak, boy.  In the end there's only two
ways out of here.  The first path is as my greatest servant and my heir. 
I'm not fooling.  I won't live forever and I want what we build here to
last.  I'm more than happy to hand it over to a worthy successor with my
genes and abilities.  The other path is through the oven in the basement.
Don't chose the oven."

   "I won't kill for you," I said, without hesitation, in perhaps the
bravest and dumbest moment of my life.

   "Well, we'll see.  For now, we won't require that.  It will be much
simpler.  Someone will come in here.  They will give you a shot.  The shot
will suppress the drugs in your system for about twenty minutes, give or
take.  They will then sit and face you.  The screen up there on the wall
will come on and tell you want to make them feel.  They won't be able to
see it so they won't accidentally cheat.  Then you make them feel that. 
The shot will wear off and you'll lose your abilities again.  In any case,
you won't be able to sense anything, only project.  You will do this
multiple times each day.  If you do what we want, we'll be happy, if
not..."

   "You'll hurt me?"

   "You, or your sister."

   Wait.  Fuck.  Maybe...maybe you didn't go to Europe.  Oh fuck.  Had I
made a huge mistake?  I calmed myself.  Panic would just let them
manipulate me further.  I needed more information.

   "You...you have my sister?"

   "Yes.  All we had to do was tell her that you were in trouble and she
came with us."

   A thought occurred to me.

   "Are...are you taking good care of her?  You're not hurting her are
you?"

   "No, not yet."

   Here was the question I had to ask, but hopefully my fear would conceal
my nervousness.

   "Have...have you been feeding her enough?"

   He smiled, assuming that I was hooked.

   "Yes.  Oatmeal in the morning, sandwiches at lunch, and a healthy
dinner. Same as you, actually, minus the drugs, since we know that she
doesn't have your abilities."

   Internally, part of me relaxed, but I forced myself to think about bad
things happening to you to keep my fear up.  I knew that they didn't have
you.  There was no talk of you getting sick after eating that much food or
attempted escapes or bites.  They didn't even know what you were.  Thank
god.  I would have done anything for them if it kept you safe.

   "Can I see her?" I asked, because it would be what was expected.

   "Hmm.  You do what we want for three weeks.  Three weeks and you can see
her.  For now, you get to work."

   It was largely what he said it would be.  He left.  A skinny guy came
in, maybe a little younger than me.  He gave me a shot straight into my
neck.  He did it pretty badly and it hurt like hell.  In fact the drug
itself felt like needles in my veins.  It was unpleasant.  It got worse as
I started to feel massive amounts of anxiety.  This was some kind of
amphetamine or something like it.  God it felt awful.

   The skinny guy sat down.  The screen lit up with one word: 'HAPPINESS'.

   I tried to make him feel happy.  It was hard.  It would have been
difficult anyway, because I hadn't done a lot of it, but the drugs didn't
help.  I'm sure they were right and the shot reduced the other drugs, but I
regained none of my senses, so I had no idea if it was working except by my
subjects reactions.  That, and the drugs were still suppressing my
abilities to a degree.  I felt like I was trying to walk through feet of
mud.

   Eventually though, he smiled.  Pretty widely.  It took fifteen minutes
and at the end, I threw up on myself.  The skinny guy left.  I was barely
conscious as Roger came in and hosed me down with cold water.  I was
shivering, nauseous and terrified. 

   Then he hit me a few times.  I'm not sure exactly why but I guess it was
probably part of my father's system of breaking down resistance.

   After that I was taken back to my room.  I tried to influence Roger on
the way back, but true to form, my powers had left me as the shot wore off.

   That's how it went.  I don't know how many days or weeks passed like
that.  I was woken up, dragged down the hall, given a shot, a subject, and
an emotion.  As time went on the emotions became complex and difficult. 
Instead of sadness, melancholy.  Instead of anger, cold rage.  Instead of
happiness, arousal.  I couldn't always do it.  I was so drugged that
sometimes I wasn't even sure what the words on the screen meant.  After the
influencing session was over, I typically got sick, but not always. 

   Then came the torture.  If I did well it was just some body punches or
surface cuts, maybe with a little salt.  If I did poorly or refused to even
try, it got ugly.  Lots of face punches, pressure points, deep cuts near
arteries, electrical shocks to very sensitive places, and even the classic
pins under fingernails.  I cried a lot, and felt shame at my tears and
helplessness.

   Jeni was my nurse.  Always there to stitch me up or give me something
for the pain and even occasionally hugs, which I was far too fucked up to
refuse.  Always looking guilty or afraid for me, but never doing anything
to stop what was going on.  I was sickened as I found myself falling in
love with her.  After all, she was the only kind person here.  Was it so
wrong to trust her?  The answer is yes, of course, but I was really fucked
up.

   This is how it went.  For days or weeks or even a month.  I have no
fucking idea.  The demands got heavier.  The torture got worse.  I became
better at fooling my father with my emotions. 

   I ended every night by trying to feel your presence, pushing as hard as
I could, giving myself headaches in my effort.  I never could, and I began
to suspect that I'd never see you again, and that's why I cried myself to
sleep every night.

   * * *

   One day, Jeni was the subject.  The screen held one word: 'PAIN'.

   I'd never done that, but I was pretty sure I could.  But for all the
things she'd done to me, I believed that she loved me, or at least a warped
image of me.  And I'd felt affection for her.  Still did.

   "No," I said.

   Jeni frowned at my refusal and I chuckled, aware that she was ignorant
of what I was being asked to do.

   "It's ok," she said, "even if it hurts me, it's ok.  Just do what the
screen says.  I can take it."

   I looked at her, infinitely more sad in that moment then I could explain
now.

   "But I couldn't," I said.

   Something happened then which changed everything.  Roger and my father
entered the room.  They were disappointed, I could tell, but father wasn't
surprised.

   "I don't blame you son.  I don't want to hurt Jeni either, but she knows
why she's here.  You need to be...obedient.  You need to do whatever you
want to whoever I tell you.  Jeni, your mother, your sister, or Jesus
Christ, anyone.  And we can't have this disobedience."

   I'd had enough.

   "Ok.  I'll inflict pain.  But only on my sister."

   Roger and dad looked at each other, alarmed.  Jeni was confused.

   "Look, I'm not kidding.  If I don't cause her pain, you will, right? 
I'll do what you want, just bring her out here."

   I was sure to sound all serious-like and truthful.  I watched Roger look
to father for direction.  Dad's face turned red, then sweat broke out on
his head.  He nodded in my direction and Roger hit me with a roundhouse
punch that caused my nose to just gush blood everywhere.  In response, I
just laughed.  It was the funniest thing that I could think of.  Rather
than admit that I'd caught them in a lie, or engage me in conversation,
Roger punched me.  I realized then that my dad ran a really chicken-shit
operation, that he might be good at reading people but not at manipulating
them.

   "God, you're as much of a disappointment as a cult leader as you were a
husband," I said, then laughed hysterically.  In my defense I was pretty
sure I'd been overdosed on something at least once by then and emotional
control was failing.

   Roger started really letting loose.  As my father failed to control him,
he got into a nice rhythm.  I hoped that he would kill me this time but no
such luck.

   Regardless of the pain and blood, I was laughing and I couldn't stop. 
It was hilarious and they'd drugged me to the point where holding back was
impossible.  Roger kicked me in the gut but it didn't matter.  I found that
even more funny.  What the fuck did they think pain was going to do to me?
Now that I understood how weak my father truly was.  Hell, I'd probably
seen most of his cult right here in this room. 

   I looked around in my mirth.  Jeni looked away from me, her warped
humanity and deep romantic feelings for me forcing her to dodge her
responsibility.  Roger's dim aggression and my father's insecurities paled
next to her conflicted nature. 

   Wait.

   I felt them.  I wasn't even really trying to either.  I was still
drugged, there was no doubt about that, and the same groggy haze was over
everything, but I could feel them. 

   What I learned from this, what my father never understood in his many
years of drug-fueled experimentation, was that the drugs didn't really
suppress my abilities.  They resisted them.  Much like a heavy weight
resists being lifted.  So all of the things they had been doing to me, all
of my nighttime exertions that had ended in failure had an unintended
results.  They made me stronger, and I had just burst through the latest
barrier.

   "You have one more week, son.  If you don't cooperate by then, we'll
kill you.  And it won't be fast."

   I couldn't help laughing even louder as Roger dragged me back to my
room. It was all too funny.

   I might die, but I hoped that they would too.

   * * *

   Late that night was when it happened.  I was dozing, not really
sleeping. Roger had hurt me too much for even the amount of drugs they gave
me to knock me out.  My whole body ached and I thought I had a concussion
and a few cracked ribs. 

   I sat up.  It hurt like hell but I did it anyway.  I turned my head as
if trying to hear a faint noise.  And, in a way, I did.  It was you.

   I was sure it was you.  It was your confidence and angst and even the
deep hunger that always walked beside you like an old friend.  And there
was concern and fear about me.  You were worried about me!  For the first
time, I felt hope.

   It wasn't even hope that I would be rescued either.  It was the hope
that I would at least be remembered, and maybe even avenged.  I was so
afraid that you didn't love me any more, that somehow you'd abandoned me to
this fate on purpose.  It wasn't logical at all but like I said, I was
drugged out of my mind on god-knows-what.

   I projected to you.  At first I didn't even care what, so I just sent
how I felt: addled, terrified, alone, in pain, and sad.  And then, because
I didn't want that you be your last memory of me, I sent as much love as I
could for as long as I could.  Then I passed out, too tired for words.

   I had good dreams that night.

   * * * 

   The next time I was in the room I got the skinny guy again, but the
screen said: 'KILL'.  I just shook my head.  The time passed and Roger got
creative with a cattle prod.  I was a wreck by the time I got back to my
room.  I had one more chance, one more play.  I could sense Jeni's love,
but I wasn't really strong enough to influence anyone, at least without
that special shot.  She was treating my electrical burns in my most private
places when I asked her the big question.

   "Jeni, why don't you stop this?  Just let me go and come with me.  You
don't need my father to be happy.  We could have some kind of life
together."

   I was lying of course, but I was desperate.  Whatever feelings she had
for me were overwhelmed by fanatical loyalty to my father.  It sickened me.

   "No.  I won't help you," she said firmly, like a nun who just got
propositioned by a drunk, "You...you've had plenty of chances to redeem
yourself.  You're lost now, and I don't want to be with you any more unless
you agree to work with him.  He's a great man, you know, and you hurt him
when you reject him like this."

   I laughed.

   "He's a broken man who never took responsibility for his failures.  You
were never going to be with me Jeni, not the way you wanted to.  If you
aren't going to help me then you should at least leave."

   "Why would I do that?  Your father still has vision.  He...he doesn't
need your abilities to meet his goals."

   "Because everyone here is going to die screaming."

   She drew back, fear filling her in her uncertainty.  I laughed again,
cold and resigned, as she fled the room, locking me back in.

   I was sure that you would find me.  I'd made contact and you would be
looking for me.  I had no illusions, however.  You'd look, you'd hire
people, you might call the cops.  You'd do everything in your power, but it
would take time, which I was nearly out of.  I had dreams of you finding my
body in a field, in a ditch, or even bled-out here in this god-forsaken
bed.

   I knew that you'd mourn me and avenge me, and that consoled me in what I
thought of as my last days.

   It was, I reflected, good to die when you knew you had been truly loved.
Not everyone had that, and I was grateful.  For the first time, I began to
write in the damn notebook they left.  That was where I started this gift
for you, as a matter of fact.  I misspelled damn near every word and had to
do a ton of editing later, sure, but when I thought that this might be the
only way I could still talk to you, the words just flowed out of me.

   No one took it the notebook from me, or even seemed to care about it.  I
wrote every time I was taken back from a session, after Jeni's increasingly
silent treatments, tears in her eyes.  Mostly of frustration that I wasn't
behaving like her unrealistic romantic image of me was supposed to.  How
dare I have free will!

   At last, I knew that the next day would be my last.  I could feel my
father's intent from far away.  I wrote as much as I could, trying to fill
my words with meaning, to convey what I felt for you in its depth and
complexity.

   I failed, but I did my best.  I went to bed that last night strangely at
peace, as though I had fought a real battle and won somehow, by not
becoming like my father.  I felt that mom would be proud.  I slept well,
dreaming of a better world where we could be together.

   ---------------------------------------------

   Out Of The Dark

   ---------------------------------------------

   I woke up in state of confusion and pain.  If that isn't a metaphor for
life I don't know what is.  I heard screaming and I was confused enough to
think it might be mine.  It wasn't.

   I thought about going back to sleep but the gunshots sobered me up
quickly.  Three in quick succession.  I don't know anything about guns but
I couldn't think of anything else that would make sense.  They were loud,
but muffled.  Farther away then just the hall outside my cell.

   I tried to stand up but wobbled a bit and had to sit back down.  It
occurred to me that the last few times I'd been moved down the hall that I
was mostly dragged.  It was even worse and I suspect someone gave me
something while I was sleeping.  I wondered if the amount of
pharmaceuticals in my system had caused any permanent damage.

   More screams, but they were closer this time.  I could feel the pain and
fear behind them.  And on the other side of that, someone was afraid but
also raging, taking revenge for someone who they fear is dead.  It was so
hard to focus, to think. 

   I froze.  The rage was in the hallway now.  I debated on making noise,
drawing attention to myself.  It could have been rescue, or it could have
been death.  I didn't know much about my father but I imagined that he
could have made a lot of dangerous enemies with his unique personality.  I
decided that the better part of valor was remaining seated.  I couldn't
really run even if I got out and the bed was only about three inches off of
the floor so hiding was right out too.

   It was on the other side of the door now.  I couldn't hear it but the
emotion was there.  Wait, was it sniffing?  There was a metallic squeal and
a loud snapping sound.  The door swung open, parts of the lock clanging to
the floor.

   You were there.  I was stunned.  I must have looked pretty dumb there
with my mouth gaping.

   You walked in and saw me, and you walked straight over and hugged me. 
Your hair was shorter, like a bob or a pixie cut, and it really looked good
on you.  You had something like black bike shorts on, they hugged you like
a second skin.  Your shirt was, god, it was amazing on you.  It was white
with some kind of fashionable logo on it that I recognized vaguely, and it
fit you perfectly.  You'd gained some weight, but it really worked for you,
like you'd grown into yourself.  There were a few blood drops on your shirt
and face.  There was a lot more blood on the other side of the door,
pooling on the floor and splattered on the wall.

   I wanted to say something romantic.  Expressive of my love and
appreciation at being rescued.

   "Did your breasts get bigger?"

   Well I did say that I was drugged.

   You rolled your eyes.

   "We gotta go," you said, pulling me to my feet.  I nearly fell forward
into my desk, but you caught me.

   "I'm sorry...I can't...I'm drugged..."

   That made you angry and I thought you were annoyed with me but really it
makes more sense that you'd be upset that people had kidnapped and drugged
your lover.

   "All right, I'm going to get you out of here, ok?  But I have to carry
you so its gonna be uncomfortable."

   I nodded but you were already slinging me over your shoulder like a sack
of potatoes, casually showing incredible strength.  I could tell already
that a lot had changed for you.  I was really unbelievably happy to see
you, but in my state I was fairly certain that you would drop me off at a
hospital and I'd never see you again.  I'm not sure why.

   As we left I recognized some of the corpses that you'd left.  There was
the skinny guy from the first day, in a crumpled heap.  I almost felt bad
about him.  And there was my dad, his head twisted around unnaturally, his
eyes glassy.

   Good fucking riddance to him.

   In any case, you were gentle with me, and moved incredibly quickly.  I
passed out, feeling safe for the first time in months.

   * * *

   I don't remember a lot of the next few days.  I know that you took me to
a new place, like an apartment or a hotel.  I remember you checking me for
injuries and finding a lot of them.  Cracked ribs, bruises, electrical
burns, cuts.  Nothing serious enough to take me to the hospital for but you
were angered and concerned.  You stripped me and washed me, bathing my
injuries. 

   "I have something for pain, but...I don't know if its safe to give to
you until you get this other junk out of your system."

   I was still so tired that I didn't care.  You put me to bed in a large,
comfortable bed.  I remember it was by a window, and we were at least ten
stories up, so we could look out over the city at night.  I slept.

   I remember you making me eat and drink.  I remember a lot of sleep and
nightmares, waking screaming and sweating.  Day and night blended together.
I tried to tell you what happened to me, disjointed accounts which must
have made no sense to you. 

   Eventually I felt like myself, if somewhat weak and in pain.  You were
nothing but patient, but you could tell that I was more coherent.  I asked
the first question.

   "How did you find me?"

   "I found you because of...that girl.  When I got your message I felt
your pain and loneliness and fear and helplessness.  You were so sad, but
you also sent me a great deal of love.  It felt like goodbye, the permanent
kind.  I was terrified.  I started to ask around with your friends.  Most
hadn't spoken to you but one of them told me about Jeni, and it turned out
that she was still attending class.  So I followed her back to where they
were keeping you.  I could just barely catch your scent from outside.  I
was worried, so I decided to wait until it was dark and just break in."

   "Wow.  I don't know what to say.  I thought I was going to die and you
just broke down the door and saved me.  You're amazing.  And
you smelled me?"

   You blushed.

   "I picked up a lot of new skills while I was gone," you said, but then
grew a little more serious, "so, um.  You want to tell me about Jeni?"

   I looked at you, deadpan.  She had the decency to look away.

   "She seemed like a nice girl.  We went on a date, had sex, then she
kidnapped me and I was tortured by her cult.  Maybe I'm overreacting but I
just don't see myself going out with her again."

   "So...you had sex with her.  Do you love her?"

   "I think you might be missing the part where she kidnapped me and I was
tortured."

   "I didn't miss it...I just...you know...worry..."

   "You said we weren't exclusive.  You left without explaining anything.
You don't get to judge me, even if you did rescue me in the most amazing
way."

   You smiled at that, but frowned a little.

   "I'm not judging you!  I just...ugh.  I know that I didn't hurt anyone
who fits her description.  I just need to know how you feel about her is
all."

   "I feel deceived and angry and betrayed.  She was weirdly obsessed with
me and I'm pretty sure it was because my dad manipulated her into it.  I
don't want her dead or anything but I never want to see her again.  Oh, and
I love you by the way, you dork.  Happy?"

   You smiled again, and hugged me, which hurt a little, but was worth it.

   "I'm sorry for being jealous.  Also...I had to kill some people.  I
think one of them might have been your dad."

   "Yeah, I saw his body on the way out."

   "I...I am so sorry.  He tried to stop me and he had a gun.  I was so mad
and I..."

   "You did the right thing.  As long as he was alive mom and I would never
have been truly safe.  He was a narcissist and I'm pretty sure he didn't
have a conscience anymore."

   You were surprised at my apparent coldness, but you hadn't been at that
fucker's mercy.  I didn't blame you.

   "Oh...well, then I'm glad."

   That meant that Roger was still alive, probably.  Well, you can't have
everything you want.

   "All right, your turn," I said.  I was so happy to be with you but I
needed to know where the fuck you'd disappeared to.

   "Um.  My turn?" you said in your most innocent tone. 

   "Your turn to explain yourself.  You know, your absence.  Where you
were. What you were doing.  Who you were doing it with.  Do you need to
look at your facebook page to remind you of all the men?"

   I was upset and it was unfair but you were jealous first.  Ok it was
selfish and I'm sorry for saying it that way, but I had to know, just like
you did.

   You took a moment, and nodded.  You radiated sincerity when you spoke,
as you nearly always do.

   "I swear to you.  I never had sex with anyone.  I was offered, um,
people, to feed on who would have pretty much whatever I wanted, but I just
slaked my thirst.  I wouldn't do any more.  I understand why you found
someone else, and I'm not upset, but I need you to understand that I wasn't
on some grand adventure fucking my way across Europe."

   "You could have fooled me.  How many goddamn facebook photos do you need
to put up with hot guys?"

   You sighed. 

   "I'm sorry.  I didn't want to but father insisted.  He said it had to be
real.  People had to be annoyed with my posting and obvious wild partying.
They had roll their eyes at my antics and completely separate me in their
minds from you.  He said that it would hurt you, but that you'd understand
in the end."

   "Well, I fucking don't.  I don't understand any of it, ok?  Because you
never told me anything!"

   You let me shout, although I'm sure you wanted to tell me to just shut
up.  I knew even then you felt awful about everything.  And you'd just
saved my life, too, so this really wasn't fair.  But I just had all this
fear and pain inside and I had to let it out.  When you responded, you were
very calm.  You just sat next to me on the bed and pulled me close, running
your hands through my hair as if you couldn't get enough of touching me.

   "Can I explain now?  I'll tell you everything.  Even the things you
probably don't want to know about."

   I felt your fear.  It was far deeper than you'd ever expressed to me.

   "I want to hear everything.  I'm not going to stop wanting you.  I
accepted a lot of things about you, long ago, including extreme
possibilities that I doubt you even considered.  Yeah, I'm upset and sad,
but I will never ever stop loving you.  Don't ever think I'm going to leave
you, all right?"

   You sighed and relaxed slightly, then went to the kitchen.  You came
back with water for me and a fancy foreign beer for yourself.  As I opened
my bottle, I realized I was parched.  I drank most of it in one pull. 

   "I always know what you need," you said, opening your bottle as if it
were a twist-off.  You smiled smugly, both from your statement and your
casual display of strength.

   I'm not ashamed to admit that both of these things turned me on, even in
my weakened and confused state.  The confidence you displayed was of a new
type, and I liked it, but I worried that the caring girl that I loved was
gone.  I didn't need to be.

   "Ok," I said, settling back, just happy to be sitting near to her,
"start from the beginning."

   * * *

   "There are a lot of strange politics on my dad's side of the family. 
They made things dangerous for us in ways we weren't aware of and I
honestly still don't fully understand."

   "Father came for us about a month before we disappeared.  He'd never
really abandoned us.  And that includes you.  He wanted to marry mom and
adopt you as the son he'd never had.  The one he couldn't have. 
His...kind, my kind I guess, aren't supposed to be able to have kids.  When
they do, its usually a big problem.  We don't survive or we do and we hurt
our families or friends.  And kids like that...like me...draw a lot of
attention of the wrong sort.  Some want to kill us as threats to secrecy.
Others want to study or even vivisect us, because we shouldn't exist.  So
he had to make a choice, kidnap all of us and take us away to a life of
hiding, or disappear himself and cover up any connection he ever had to us,
and content himself to watch us from afar."

   "It broke his heart, but he obviously did the latter, because he wanted
us to have as normal a life as possible.  He watched us as best he could,
monitoring our family.  It's actually kind of creepy and I'm sorry you had
to be included in it.  He half-expected to have to clean up some mess where
I'd killed someone, maybe even you, by accident.  But it never happened. 
And it never happened because of you.  As I grew up he realized that we
were safe and stable.  Once I became an adult he planned on approaching me
and mom.  Now that I was older and could protect myself a bit, he could
take us home.  He could offer mom the choice of becoming like him, and
introduce me into his society.  If everything went smoothly, I'd be
admitted into his House.  Then it wouldn't matter how weird I was, I'd be
protected from the worst parts of the unnatural world.  I could be taught
by the wisest of my father's family, strange secrets and powers.  And I'd
be rich.  Which means you'd be rich, too."

   "But things went a bit awry.  Mom started going to the doctor.  She'd
told us that she had to do some extra work but really she'd started feeling
very tired and had some strange abdominal pain.  She didn't want to worry
us.  She was diagnosed with liver cancer.  Because of some unique aspects
to her anatomy, a transplant wouldn't be effective.  Even if it would have
been possible, it was probably too late anyway."

   "I can see you're horrified.  I was too.  I had no idea.  Mom was doing
her best to make sure that her finances were in order, that we weren't
burdened with crippling debt.  She was going to skip the final trip to the
hospital.  It was filing her Do Not Resuscitate that forced father to act."

   "He approached her first.  She was angry and afraid.  She hadn't quite
figured him out before he disappeared, but after I was born she'd
understood everything.  She kept it from you but she was pissed.  How dare
he knock her up and then abandon her without ever mentioning anything about
my...uh, special needs?"

   "So she yelled at him and he explained everything to her.  She was
resistant at first but he still loved her, a lot, which is pretty romantic,
dontcha think?  Like he loved her from afar for almost two decades!  Ok, I
can see you're not as into that part as I was but like I was saying, it was
kind of impressive.  He offered to save her by making her like him at the
same time as he would bring me into the family.  The safest way would be to
do both at the same time.  That would leave us vulnerable for the shortest
amount of time."

   "We all talked and made plans.  He offered to take you with us too, but
mom and I wouldn't go for it.  Don't look so pissed off.  The only way you
could come is if you got changed like mom.  Yeah, I thought that might
change your mind.  If we told you, you'd have no choice.  So we voted no on
your behalf.  Don't get me wrong, I'd love it if you, uh, came over.  You
would be so much safer, and I think you'd enjoy it, even with the, you
know, blood stuff.  But I won't do it against your will, and I was sure at
the time that your answer would have been no."

   "So we had to keep it from you.  Which sucked.  We made our plans, and
we lied to you.  Over and over and I hated it, ok?  I fucking hated it. 
Mom and I talked about...um...us.  She knew we were close and getting
closer.  She told me that she understood, but that I should wait to, uh,
'consummate' our relationship until I came back.  She said that I might
meet someone while I was gone.  Or...or that you might.  And then one of us
would be all broken-hearted."

   "She made sense.  But the more I thought about it, the more upset I got.
If we left...and I never told you...never expressed how I really
felt...you'd find someone for sure.  You'd think that I'd left you behind,
and you've never had any trouble finding women...or having women find you.
I know I hurt you but...I had to show you how I loved you.  I had to tell
you how I felt before we disappeared.  And I needed to fuck you.  So
fucking bad.  God, its sick how much I needed your cock."

   "It...it was the best week.  Wasn't it?  I mean...you might be really
mad at me, but...but you loved me so well that whole week.  And I took good
care of you too, didn't I?  Fuck.  Of all the things that I did before I
left, this is what I feel the worst about.  Not because it was bad.  It was
wonderful.  But because I worried that you thought that I was toying with
you, or didn't care.  I was really busy most of the time, but when I had a
moment to myself you were what was on my mind.  I worried and fantasized
and got myself off thinking about what we'd do when I got back.  I didn't
expect you to be kidnapped and tortured." 

   "I've dragged this on enough.  I'll tell you more when you want, but
about half of what I was doing was learning how to use my blood to make
myself better or stronger or to do things that others can't.  That's the
other reason why ones that are born like me aren't trusted.  We're just,
better at that stuff.  The other half was like history and civics for
monsters.  Our society, how to behave, the rules.  Oh, and my dad's family
has a lot of cool stuff everywhere.  Like safe-houses or blood banks or
even clubs.  I can even take you as my special guest.  We own this hotel,
as a matter of fact."

   "I don't know if you and father are going to get along.  He's...been
great so far and he likes you, for sure.  I just want you to give it a
chance and not hate him too much for what we did."

   "For now, its just going to be you and me.  Later...if you want...I can
make you like me.  We can live forever together, and be with mom and dad
too.  I know you and I know that your first instinct will be to say no, and
live and die a normal life.  I just...just want you to think about it ok?
If you won't say yes, then just don't say no yet.  We belong together."

   * * *

   I watched you carefully.  Your eyes flashed as you spoke and you moved
even more smoothly than before.  You were already catlike but now you put
cats to shame.  I felt a fear from you, a fear of rejection.  It didn't
disappear when you were done.

   I was sure that becoming like you wasn't for me.  I was the most emo
person I knew, ridiculously sensitive.  I couldn't imagine myself as the
future predator that you envisioned, not even to be with you forever.  I
hurt when other people hurt, after all.  How could I feed or kill if I had
to?

   And as you said, that would be likely.

   "I won't say no," I answered, "but I won't say yes, either."

   You sighed, but smiled.  Finally we were both relaxed.

   "Do I need to tell you that I won't leave?" I asked.

   "No...but it would be really nice to hear," you said, and I could still
feel a little uncertainty.

   "I won't ever leave you.  You're my one-and-only," I said and then
leaned forward and kissed her.  She met me and we made out like uncertain
teenagers, gentle, tongues meeting and dancing.  I wished I could do more
but even this had made me out of breath.  You saw my frustration and
smiled.

   "Take it easy, love.  Soon enough you'll get better, and until then I'll
take care of you."

   You were leaving the room.  I was really tired already, which was
irritating because I wanted to talk to you more, spend more time.  I also
really wanted to get laid.

   "So, what was it really?"

   You stopped, your fear spiking.

   "What?"

   "What is it that you're afraid to tell me?  I love you, but if you don't
tell me what's bothering you it's going to eat at you, and me too. 
Remember who you're talking to.  If you need forgiveness I can't give it if
I don't know.  If you need understanding or support I can't provide it
without your help."

   You sighed and came back, sitting at my side.  You wouldn't met my gaze.

   "There was something I had to do.  At the end of all the history lessons
and cool powers.  To be accepted into the House.  I had...I had to kill
someone.  They had me choose someone, then I had to stalk them, catch them,
and finish them..."

   "That's it?"

   "What do you mean, 'That's it'?  I killed someone!  I picked a really
bad person...a rapist...but still."

   "You just killed like ten people to rescue me."

   "It was seven, and that was different.  I couldn't let them keep hurting
you or worse, and they weren't just going to let you go.  This was...just
because they wanted to be sure I was a killer..."

   I hugged you.

   "Maybe the last few months have changed me.  Maybe I was never really a
good person.  Or maybe I'm just not as naive.  In either case, I'm not
bothered by this."

   "Really?"

   "Really.  I've been mentally preparing myself for having to help you get
rid of a body since the first time I realized what you were."

   "Oh my god.  That's really...sweet actually."

   You hugged me back and it was really nice.

   "Um," I said, uncertainly, "will you sleep in here tonight?"

   You laughed and kissed my head.

   "Don't be silly.  I've been sleeping next to you every night.  You've
just been too out of it to notice."

   That's how we found each other again, and for a brief time, things were
perfect.

   * * *

   I woke up the next morning in the most delightful manner.  You were
grinding your sweet little pussy on my cock, and you were naked.  Your face
had the adorable focus that you get when you lose yourself to pleasure and
desire, and you half-smiled at me as my eyes opened.  You never stopped
rubbing up against me.

   "I'm sorry.  You were so adorable when you were sleeping, and then I
started to kiss and touch you...and you got all hard.  I...oh
fuck...couldn't resist."

   I groaned as your wet slit ran over my shaft.  I hadn't had anything
like real sex in a while.  Jeni didn't count.

   "So...have you tasted me while I was sleeping?"

   You bit your lip and shook your head.

   "No...I was afraid you were too weak.  And, I mean you probably wouldn't
mind...but I won't take from you without asking.  Not since...you know..."

   "Oh.  So I guess you must have found men who tasted better than me all
over Europe?"

   "Don't be silly.  There's no-one who...unh...loves me like you do.  I
missed your taste almost as much as I missed your cock."

   I ran my hands up and down your back, then began to push up against you,
anticipating your strokes.  You smiled at me and stopped.

   "Don't exert yourself.  Let your little sister take care of you today,
ok?"

   I stopped pushing and relaxed, which was difficult when you were so
agonizingly close to me.  You smoothly enveloped my cock, slowly letting it
impale you as you locked eyes with me.  I'd missed your warmth and your
incredible tightness.  That heat and indescribable slickness welcomed me
home.  You growled as I bottomed out in you, then closed your eyes and
stopped for a moment, as if savoring being filled.  God you were so
beautiful like that. 

   You opened your eyes and began to move.  Your hips rolled as you moved
up and down my shaft.  I moaned and you reveled in the power that you still
had over me.  I put my hands on your hips and slid them up to your breasts.
God they were still small and perfect but maybe a little larger, filling my
hands just a tiny bit more.  It didn't matter.  Whatever you looked like
and felt like was perfect, because it was you.  You whimpered as I teased
your nipples then leaned in and kissed me.  It wasn't fierce, but loving
and slow, your tongue exploring my mouth, your hands framing my face and
holding me gently in place as your hips did their work, bringing us ever
closer to the edge.  Something occurred to me.

   "Uh...do I need to pull out?"

   "No, but I'm not on the pill any more."

   "What?"

   You smiled wickedly.

   "It isn't likely that I'll ever get pregnant, but where's the fun if
there isn't any risk?"

   I still think a lot about that. 

   You closed your eyes, losing yourself in your first orgasm, it was
gentle, like an ocean breeze, and rippled through you.  Everything about
you was erotic, reminding me of how lucky I was.  I groaned again as your
interior muscles held me tight.

   "I'm...I'm going to cum soon," I warned.

   "Good," you said, moving faster to bring it about.

   I shook my head, barely able to focus.  You frowned.  I explained.

   "Not until...until you bite me...drink from me...please"

   I needed it.  I never knew how much until you were gone.  I needed your
sharp teeth in my flesh and your gentle suction.  You obliged me, this time
straight to the neck.  I felt you penetrate deep and I gasped and clutched
at you helplessly.

   As my life began to pass into you, I lost myself to my orgasm, filling
you with my long pent-up seed.  Part of me wished for nothing more than to
impregnate you against the odds, filling you with my child.  Feeling me
swell and pulse, the pressure of my cum splashing inside you, triggered
your own orgasm, much larger, but still not as violent as they typically
are.  You growled like a panther in heat and your body tensed and quivered,
but you never stopped drinking.

   You were sated only after my cock had pumped the last of its seed inside
you.  Only then did you stop drinking, and began to lick my gaping wound,
sealing it more quickly.

   Finally, we lay together quietly.  You nuzzled my ear and spoke.

   "Are you all right?"

   "I'm a little light-headed," I admitted, "but it was so worth it.  I
missed having you latched on me, taking what you needed."

   You sat up a little and frowned at me.

   "That's not ok.  You need to tell me when I'm taking too much.  I...I'd
never forgive myself if you ended up in the hospital again."

   I looked up at you, feeling indescribable love.

   "You didn't take too much.  I just need to get used to it again.  And
you know...if anything happened, I'd never blame you."

   "All right now you're scaring me a little."

   "Don't be scared.  It's just worth the risk to take care of you, that's
all."

   I kissed you and you responded.  I tasted my life on your lips, and it
was all wonderful.  It's a pity that all good things end.

   ---------------------------------------------

   Love is Sacrifice

   ---------------------------------------------

   We started to live out of the hotel.  You'd gone back to the house and
gotten enough of our stuff to be comfortable, and the staff treated us like
VIPs, which you loved, of course.  I will admit that ordering in room
service and fucking like rabbits is a pretty great way to spend an
evening. 

   You didn't say anything, but I could tell that you were keeping an eye
out for people following us or just looking for me.  I know you blame
yourself, but it was really just random chance that things went wrong.  We
went out together with some regularity though, everything from the
traditional movie date to museums after hours and even to a very high end
strip club.  The girls there seemed to love both of us and we were both
pretty worked up by the time we got home.  That was a nice evening.

   Soon enough, it was Halloween.

   * * *

   It was going to be a fun party, you said, and that I would enjoy it. 
Everyone would be wearing elaborate masks and it would be relaxed
atmosphere.  I could meet some members of your "side of the family", many
of which were excited to see me.  And there were rooms where we could go be
alone together.  Rooms with frames and bindings and chains and all manner
of toys. 

   "I never asked you this before because it never occurred to me but...are
you pressured to sleep with anyone from your House?"

   "No.  I might get hit on but that's nothing new, and I'm not interested,
so don't worry.  You need to wear this amulet at all times, though.  It
marks you as mine so no one gets any clever ideas.  Without it someone
could see you as food, or worse, have their way with you."

   The amulet had a black leather cord and was a simple silver figurine
maybe an inch high.  It almost looked Egyptian.

   "I'm not sure I agree with your priorities but I'll gladly be yours."

   "Good.  Now comes the fun part!"

   The 'fun part' amounted to you getting to play dress-up with me.  You'd
had a lot of boxes and bags delivered over the past few days, and it turned
out that they were all costumes.  I tried on many outfits, some tasteful,
some displaying a great deal of skin, others elaborate.  You got pretty
grabby as I changed, which was fun. 

   Eventually you settled on something black and pseudo-renaissance for me.
You wore a matching outfit, a gown with a plunging neckline and a slit on
the side that seemed to go all the way to outer space.  We completed our
outfits with masquerade masks: a cat for you and a stag for me. 

   I won't speak for myself but you looked amazing.  Now I was the one who
had difficulty making his hands behave, I constantly seemed to be touching
the small of your back or reaching under your skirt.  You didn't complain,
and I seem to recall you came once before we even left for the party,
pressed against the wall, my agile fingers making you gasp and whimper,
your bodice heaving. 

   We drove to the mansion on the edge of town, and as we got out and
walked to the door you clung to my arm, pressing yourself against me as you
knew I loved.  Mansion might be too small a word for this place.  It wasn't
the largest by any means, but it was magnificent.  Made of stone with four
full floors, gargoyles guarding the roof, water from the rainy night
pouring from their mouths.  Footmen from an earlier age, perhaps literally,
ushered us in.  No invitation was needed.  You were recognized immediately
and I bore your amulet.  Inside was a dark wonderland of delights.

   Everything was deep reds and tasteful brass.  The people were all
beautiful, not so much as you, but putting me to shame.  I can see you
disagreeing and I love you for it.  The costumes were amazing.  I'm glad
that you chose sexy and simple for both of us, but I looked forward to
something more elaborate the following year. 

   You found a nice spot for us, and sat me down to get us refreshments. 
Seconds after you left, a beautiful blonde girl, looking barely eighteen
approached me and began to flirt in a quite forward manner.  I didn't want
to be rude or indeed anger her so I was coy as she touched my leg and
leaned forward so that I could see her magnificent cleavage. 

   I'm not saying I was interested, because I wasn't, but she was gorgeous
in her fashion.  In addition, despite her appearance, I felt a truly old
and terrible mind driving her body, someone who's love was
indistinguishable from murder.

   When you returned, you handed me a small glass of wine and sat in my
lap, looking up at her.  Although some might see such a move as submissive,
you unmistakably claimed possession of me, wrapping your arm around me and
playing with my hair as though I was your favorite cat. 

   My new suitor immediately behaved herself and you both had a fascinating
conversation in which I was ignored, except once when she complemented you
on your "taste in pets".  In earlier years I might have been offended, but
I simply found this arousing. 

   To be desired and possessed by a beautiful predatory creature like you
is beyond erotic.  After a while we made the rounds and you introduced me
to the people you knew.  Some were of your House, others were not.  I will
admit that I found She-Who-Drinks-Hearts to be most enchanting, but I
didn't blame you from steering me away, for my own good. 

   When you took me by the collar I knew I was in for a treat.  You led me
to a back room, one of many, and closed the door.  The room was decorated
in black and gold.

   "Strip," you said.  It was not a request.  I almost questioned you but
your look was smoldering and I agreed.

   When I went to take my mask of you spoke again.

   "Leave it on."

   I did.

   "Lay on the bed and spread your arms and legs."

   As I climbed into the bed, obedient to your will, I noticed the heavy
leather straps at the bed posts.  I looked at you, a little concerned. 
We'd never done this before, after all.  I did as you said, regardless.  As
you strapped me in, you pet me gently, reassuringly, and looked at me with
such love.  Yet again I realized that I would give anything for you, to the
last drop of my blood.

   "Relax, love.  You are so...so beautiful when I can see you like this.
You think you aren't, because you're humble.  All you see is a skinny emo
boy, but you are truly a beautiful man.  Your muscled torso is well-defined
but not vulgar.  Your skin is smooth and your chest hair is fine and soft.
Your eyes are revealing.  They penetrate me when you look at me with such
need.  And that's to say nothing of your cock."

   You stayed clothed but shimmied out of your black lace panties.  I was
entranced as your body moved.  As you mounted me, your corseted torso
pushed your fine breasts up and out.  I yearned to touch you and hold you,
involuntarily straining at the straps.  You smiled down at me, teasingly,
but made no effort to free me.

   I felt your slick sex over me.  God you were so wet.  Did the sight of
me like this do that do you?  I grew even harder.  You moaned as you
impaled yourself slowly on my cock.  I thrust up as best I could but you
had done your job well and I had very little room to move.  I was
completely helpless before you, and you knew it.  You stared down at me,
your eyes full of lust for me and your heart full of pride that I belonged
to you.  But you wouldn't move.  I moaned, full of suppressed desire.

   "Now, now," you said, knowing that you held all of the power and I was
but your plaything, "ask for what you want.  Beg for it."

   "Oh, fuck.  Please.  Please ride me...mistress..."

   The word just slipped out.  I'd never said it before and you'd never
asked me to, but here in this room it felt natural.  It felt right to
submit to you completely.

   I saw the heat in your eyes turn to fire and you began to ride.  You
rode me hard, your pussy gripping me tightly, painfully.  Your fine, small
hips rose and fell on me with increasing force.  I felt myself bruise and I
groaned, but I wouldn't ask you to stop or for mercy.  This is how I would
show my love for you, by my sacrifice for your pleasure. 

   You were moaning now and your eyes filled with love and care.  You kept
riding me, hurting me deliciously, but you bent over and kissed me, fully,
and whimpered and gasped.  God you were so tight, so rough. 

   You were perfect. 

   "Don't cum yet," you commanded.  I was so close.  I tried to beg you but
only moans and grunts came out.  Finally, you began to shudder, slamming
onto me with such dominating force that I cired out in pleasure and pain.
Your back arched as your orgasm rode you as roughly as you were riding me.
You leaned back and your small hands gripped my thigh, bruising them with
your impossible strength.  At last you relaxed and looked down at me with
half lidded eyes, truly you appeared as smug and satisfied as a cat.  But
you had forgotten about me, I thought.

   "P...please..." was all I could get out. 

   "Oh my.  You've been such a...such a good boy for your little sister,
haven't you?  You always give of yourself for me.  That's part of why I'll
always love you.  Yes, my love, you may cum inside me.  I want every drop
of your brother-seed."

   I came, my body tensing and flexing and unable to move more than a
little, but my cock swelling and spreading my cum inside you.  I came so
hard that it hurt, and you massaged me with vigor with your internal
muscles, draining me totally.  I collapsed, limp.  I realized that I was
crying.

   You leaned over me and unstrapped me quickly and then pulled me to your
breast, cooing and telling me what a good job I'd done for you.  You
dressed me again.  We were both a little disheveled, but we took pride in
the pleasure we'd had from each other.  We went back out and mingled,
enjoying the fact that others could smell what we had been doing.

   I was willing to stay as late as you wanted, but you could tell that I
was very tired, still easily fatigued even this long after my captivity. 
Always caring, you insisted that we go home.  We walked to the car
hand-in-hand, more in love than we had been at the start of the occasion.
It was a good way to spend Halloween.

   Overall, I'd say it was a fine night to die.

   * * *

   It was by chance that they found us.  Later you told me that one of the
surviving cult members worked in a coffee shop across the street from the
hotel.  They saw us leave that night and decided to set a trap for us in
the relatively deserted parking garage when we got back.  Of course, you
only found out about this after asking a survivor some questions, and it
was too late by then to do anything.

   Jeni did nothing to dissuade Roger from his scheme of revenge, although
she "only" participated as lookout. 

   I drove us back from the party.  I'd had some alcohol but not a lot. 
You were beautiful and disheveled next to me, and your eyes had been making
promises to me every time I looked in your direction.  It had been a good
night and I didn't want it to be over.  I pulled into your reserved space
in the garage.  You ran your hand up my thigh before you got out, making
sure I was eager to follow you, chase you, and have you as soon as we got
into our room.

   I felt it as soon as I got out of the car.  Ill intent.  Perhaps I would
have felt it sooner if I'd been more aware.  I know you blame yourself but
really, I find that to be incredibly unfair.  This was bad luck combined
with vile people. 

   I knew, immediately, where everyone was, even though I couldn't see them
in the dark.  There were three of them, one in each corner and one right
next to the stairwell.  They'd broken the lights in advance and each of
them carried a hunting crossbow straight from the local Bass Pro Shop. 
Somehow they'd gotten or made bolts with silver tips.  I'm sure Roger was a
crack shot but still, it seems like it would be a tall order to hit you in
the heart from twenty meters.  Then again, the whole thing seems so
ridiculous that it might work.  Like the end of a Hammer film brought to
vibrant life by fools.

   They had you in their sights.  I knew immediately that I couldn't get to
you in time, that maybe even speaking wouldn't be fast enough.  I had time
to look at you, just once.

   We know each other well enough that while you didn't detect the danger,
you realized that my eyes were saying goodbye.  I think you started to say
"no".

   I made the quickest and honestly easiest decision of my life.  I wasn't
idle as I looked at you, I was focussed.  I gave your three would-be
assassins the gift of fear.  Fear of me.  To be specific, I made all three
of them think that I was the greater threat.  Effectively I transferred
their thoughts about you, to me.  All of them, as one, turned their
weapons.

   I felt the impacts of the three bolts, but not a lot of pain.  They
fired reflexively, all three hitting, but none were straight heart-shots. I
guess that's something to be grateful for.  One embedded itself in my ribs,
stuck only an inch or so deep.  Another penetrated my left lung, but it
wouldn't have been immediately fatal if I'd gotten to a hospital. 
Unfortunately the third cut an artery, cleanly.

   I fell.  You screamed in loss and rage.  I was looking up at the ugly
concrete ceiling and the yellow sodium lamps.  There were more screams and
shouts.  You growled and roared.  A car peeled out.  I saw you above me,
your beautiful face marred with worry and concern, painted with life of
your would-be assassins.  I tried to reach up to you and tell you that it
would be all right.  It wasn't though.

   Everything went darker than you can imagine.  I was gone.

   * * *

   It wasn't a terrible way to die, giving my life for yours.  I considered
it more than fair.  You had saved my life after all and we'd had some more
time together, which was wonderful.  I'd gotten to lead an extraordinary
life with the woman I'd been fated for.  I was lucky.

   I woke up though.  It was like coming up from the deepest sleep that you
can imagine.  Everything was louder, brighter, and sharper.  Especially my
hunger.  I looked up at you from the hard surface of the tarmac that had,
briefly, been my funeral bier.  I must have looked a bit accusatory because
you shrugged your shoulders, but made no attempt to hide your tears of
relief that I had not truly passed on.  Your shirt was still open and the
cut you'd made on the upper part of your breast seeped blood.  I still had
the salty, coppery taste of you on my lips.

   "You never said no," was all you said, and then you smiled at me.  I
couldn't help but smile back.  I could never stay mad at you.

   One should always be careful with wording among your kind.  Our kind,
now.

   I was unbelievably tired.  You helped me up and inside, and I passed out
on our bed.

   * * *

   I woke up hungry, and you were there next to me, huddling against my
chest.  I was still warm but my heart no longer beat.  I was briefly
worried at what these new changes meant for us but then I let my hand
stroke your soft flank and my cock grew hard immediately.  That was oddly
comforting, reassuring me that some things had not changed.  After a bit,
your eyes fluttered open and you smiled at me.

   "How do you feel?" you asked, stroking my face reassuringly.

   "I'm...afraid.  I'm not sure that I'm entirely cut out for this, to be
honest."

   "I understand.  I wasn't sure either, although you saw the predator in
me when I was very young.  You may not believe it, but I've seen the same
thing in you for years."

   I smiled but was still unsure.  You sat up, a serious expression on your
face.

   "We have something important to discuss.  It can't wait, unfortunately."

   "What is it?"

   "First of all I just want to say that I love you.  I'll support whatever
decision you make."

   I sat up now.

   "You're worrying me a little."

   "Good.  I want you to take this seriously.  You see, you have to make
the same choice that I did.  Usually though, it happens right after
awakening.  So, I'm supposed to ask you, right now, if you will kill.  If
you won't, I'm supposed to reject you, or be expelled from my House.  But I
won't abandon you.  And getting expelled isn't the end of the world.  We
would lose access to resources and wealth, and we wouldn't be able to see
mother and father again.  I will happily give it all up, if you want."

   To my surprise, the idea of killing didn't seem quite so bad.

   "So, um, assuming I chose to kill someone, how would we, uh, go about
it?"

   To my surprise, you smiled a wide predatory grin.

   "Well, normally, we'd have to go out and hunt someone up.  I'd help you
to find someone awful and then help you hunt them...but tonight I have
something special for you."

   "Something special?"

   "Well, someone special, really.  Again, you don't have to kill them, but
they are right in the other room."

   I perked my ears up and was surprised to hear a heartbeat coming from
the lounge of our suite.  I also felt great fear.

   "Why do they feel familiar to me?"

   "Well," you said, innocently, "I had to catch one of the cult members. I
needed to know if there would be more ambushes in our future.  So I caught
up with the one person that I knew was still alive and who was involved in
all of it.  She's been most helpful.  I'm fairly certain she's the last
surviving member..."

   "Really?  And you kept her here, for me to, uh, eat?"

   You nodded.

   "How thoughtful.  Well, I guess we shouldn't keep our guest waiting."

   When I opened the door to the lounge, I wasn't surprised at the fear
that Jeni was feeling.  She was tied to a chair, and the chair itself was
situated over a tarp.  Things like that never boded well.  She had some
bruises and cuts, presumably from the, uh, "conversation" that you'd had
with her.  Overall, she was in good health, if afraid.

   She looked up at me as we entered.  On seeing me she felt a wash of
relief.  How adorable.

   "Oh thank god.  Please...your sister is crazy!  I didn't want to hurt
you...I never tortured you or tried to kill you?  I...I loved you.  Tell
her!"

   I smiled in a reassuring manner, careful not to show my teeth, which had
somehow instinctively lengthened and sharpened.  You were silent.

   "Jeni...you loved something that looked like me.  But it wasn't me.  It
was what my father told you to love."

   "Maybe...maybe at first!  But I love you, now...the you that you really
are!  Please...just get her to let me go and....and I'll be whatever you
want."

   Jeni was mistaken, but she really was willing to love me.  She was the
sort who needed someone else to tell her about herself.  She wanted to
live, and she would be more than happy to live out any identity that I gave
her.

   "Whatever I want?" I said, walking behind her.  I couldn't help licking
my lips.

   "Anything...just tell me..."

   "Right now...I think I want you...to be breakfast."

   I walked in front of her and smiled, showing her the rows of shining,
ivory daggers in my mouth.  She grew pale, and tried to scream, but I
filled her with a relaxing sensation.

   "Don't worry, Jeni, I promise that this won't hurt at all.  I'm still
very...humane."

   I bit her.  My first bite.  I'm still surprised that I didn't mess it
up, but it was easy, instinctive.  My teeth penetrated her neck and she
gasped as I turned her pain into pleasure.  As I drank I filled her with
yet more erotic sensation.  She had the little death before the real one.
And she was delicious.  Although, as I was soon to learn, her taste paled
to yours.

   "I knew that you had it in you," you said, radiating pride.  We kissed,
and then together we finished our meal.  It would have been unethical to
waste food, after all.

   ---------------------------------------------

   Our Bloody Future

   ---------------------------------------------

   We travelled together, becoming I suppose the new unliving power-couple.
You showed me Europe, both in the light and the dark.  I learned my lessons
as you had, and became an official member of the family, although I was
already accepted. 

   As your nature made you strong, the pinnacle of your kind, mine made me
unique.  I didn't lose my gifts, and with time I have grown stronger and
more skilled in their use.  It makes our hunts more enjoyable, and of
course being able to flavor the prey with various emotions is handy.

   You still say that I taste the best, which is lovely.

   After a few years I started thinking of William as my father.  That was
unexpected.  After I realized that he'd truly wanted to marry our mother
decades ago and adopt me, I felt pretty warmly towards him.  After all,
he'd always been nice to me.  And he gave you to all of us.

   For his part he was grateful for all that I'd done for you, and approved
of our unusual romance.  He seemed to imply that this sort of thing wasn't
that odd in the circles that he travelled in, and that it made perfect
sense for a woman with otherworldly blood to give birth to children who
were destined to be lovers.  After all, weren't Isis and Osiris sister and
brother?  Didn't that happen over and over in myth and legend? 

   Besides all of that, he and mother are obviously and completely in love
with each other.  She has come into her own, the dark and bloody fey lady
that she is.  We visit them regularly and are always welcomed in their
house.

   We had our first child some decades ago, which was an amazing surprise.
We named her after our mother and she has been a joy to both of us,
although her coming of age was a bit more of a shock to me than it was to
you.  She lives her own life now, but she stays close to both of us in her
way.  You have been most understanding of our relationship. 

   You have said nothing about it yet but my gift tells me that you might
be expecting again.  This excites in me a great new desire, and deepens my
love for you.  I am, as always, awed by the emotions that you stir in me.
My perfect, sweet, dear, little sister.  What kind of life would I have had
without you?  I am so glad that I never had to find out.

   ---------------------------------------------

   My Second Message To You

   ---------------------------------------------

   I wrote the introduction before I finished this, and it doesn't really
apply any more, but I kept it out of artistic integrity.

   I thought you might enjoy this, so I'm giving it to you for our
Halloween anniversary this year.  Well, I suppose its more like my
birthday, but we celebrate each other on this day, each year.

   You've always loved it when I made things for you.  This was handmade
over years, re-written and struggled over and forgotten and remembered.  I
hope that it brings you even a small measure of joy.

   You never need to give me anything.  You are gift enough.

   With Unending Love,

   Your Brother

   Oct 31st, 21xx


   For Pics visit:---->>> https://cutt.ly/hwsMVhC