Shelter, Chapter 11: Hiding Out

by Glassbottom

The sun was bright and the sky was perfectly blue. There was not one cloud, not even a trace of a cloud to be seen. A very light breeze stirred the leaves on the branches above and below and all around her as Billie sat high up in the tree, her tree.

It was all simply there, the sun that shined down on her through the leaves, the sky that she searched her eyes over, the breeze that cooled her skin ever-so-slightly after the sun warmed it, the tree that held her securely as it had so many times before. And no one knew about it.

It was all there and it asked no questions. Oh, to be sure, she could tell her secrets here to all of it, to sky and sun and wood, to heaven and earth, but nothing was expected of her, and that was the beauty of it.

If Billie did believe in anything like God, this was it, it wasn't in some book or building or some phony picture you put on the wall, or a cross you wore around your neck. And telling what you did wrong wasn't confessing your sins because there was no hell. Not a place anyway.

"No more," she told Jack. "I ain't playin' with you no more."

He had come into her room one evening after putting Sara to bed. Billie was changing into her raggedy old nightgown and only had her panties on. She was brushing her hair. He offered to do it for her and she let him, but as he pressed up behind her, she could feel it in his pants, she could feel how hard he was.

"Oh, my sweet little girl, you do make me so goddam hard," he said. "Why don't I close the door and we take care of business?"

And that was when she told him. Out of the blue. Just like that. Yeah.

It must have seemed sudden. She hadn't given him a warning. But really, when you are showing someone time after time that you don't like it no more, that you are only doing it because they like it, well... they should get the hint.

But Jack was stupid. And stupid people didn't take hints. You just had to tell them the truth.

"So, that's the way it is," he had responded. "And you don't care what happens?"

"No," she said firmly, throwing on her raggedy nightgown over her head.

"Even if I start being a total prick? Even if I start showing you and Sara how much of an asshole I can be?"

"Go ahead."

"And what if I decide to take little Sara and show her how to play with my cock? Oh man, I bet she's got a sweet little pussy, too! What do you think?"

"I think if you were goin' to do that, you woulda done it already," she had told him. "But if I catch you, or hear of you doin' it, I will tell. And I mean I'll tell about all of it."

"Hmmm," he had smiled at her on his way out the bedroom door. "Are you sure you'd want to do that? That might send your Mom into an awful tailspin, don't you think?"

Billie hugged onto the thick branch with her arms and legs and rested her head against it. She looked down at the playground where the children played. They were younger, the same age, older than her, and they lived in a whole different world. She was just Billie. There was no going back.

That same night, the night she had refused him, she lay there on her bed unable to sleep. She took out her notebook and pen, but just stared at the blank lines and didn't write anything. She turned to the back of the notebook and found Georgia's phone number. She closed the notebook and put it away and rolled over on her back, lifted her nightgown and slipped her hand down her panties.

Then there was a sound. Or sounds. She heard them. She took her hand out of her panties and got up off the bed. She unlocked the door, turned the knob, and inched her head out into the hallway.

All was quiet, but there was a strip of light entering the dark corridor, and it fell upon the opposing wall and the floor of the hallway. It was coming from the doorway of the bedroom next to hers, and there was a shadow moving within the light.

It was Sara's room.

Stepping into the hallway and then inching on tip-toes to her little sister's doorway, Billie had trembled. With her heart pounding, she reached for the door and eased it forward, then grasping it and looking around it.

Jack was standing over Sara as she slept peacefully. The closet light was on and the door was open enough to illuminate the little girl's body. She was on her back in a vulnerable position, with her short nightgown bunched about her waist, her legs spread apart.

Jack's robe was open and he was stroking his massive erection with an expression of excitement on his face. Jack was standing right over her, his lips moving as if he were talking to the little girl, and if he had become overexcited at that moment, his semen would have spurted all over the slumbering child's legs.

Billie opened the door wider and stepped inside. Jack saw her out of the corner of his eye and he turned his head and appeared shocked for a split second, then smiled, breathing hard looking at Billie and then down at Sara.

"Well well," he said softly. "The two of you."

"Leave her alone," she whispered.

"She's asleep," he said.

"What if she wakes up?"

"That's the exciting part."

"If you come, it'll wake her up."

"Maybe..."

"Get out of her room," Billie told him.

"Only if you say we can keep playing," he said, "you and me."

Billie looked at him. She took a breath, she looked down at Sara. Sleeping, sweet, bratty, innocent...

Yeah, right. "I don't belong to nobody." Her chin dropped. It felt like a stomach ache, but it was worse.

"OK," she said. "Come on. Let's go."

"Wait a second," he said, turning to her. "Just to prove it... right here... right now."

Billie stared at him. He smiled at her.

"You want me to – ?"

"I want you to play with me right here while I look at your little sister."

"You're crazy," Billie whispered.

"Maybe I'll just wake her up and have her –"

Billie stepped forward and grasped the massive cock, feeling it jump and throb in reaction to her touch.

"That's the way," Jack said. "Oh, this is so fucking hot. I'm looking at one little piece of ass while her big sister jerks me off. Look at her, Billie. What do you think of your little sister? You think she's hot?"

"I don't know," Billie said, shrugging awkwardly. "She's my sister."

"Here," Jack said. "Turn this way," he said, guiding her shoulders, allowing her to let go of his cock as he turned her to face the bed.

"Look at her," he whispered in her ear as he knelt behind her, lifting her nightgown and lowering her panties, grinding his hardness against her buttcrack. "Can't you just imagine yourself touching her? Can't you just imagine yourself licking her little pussy?"

Billie turned and looked at him and them looked down at her sister, at the smooth long, shapely legs and the flat tummy, and the panties that fit tight. Jack reached around and cupped her, pressing his fingers against her, and she tried real hard not to let it feel good as she looked at her sister...

She liked looking at her sister.

"Isn't she pretty?" Jack whispered.

"Yes, she is," she whispered.

"Then say it."

"My sister is very pretty."

"Say that you... " Jack paused excitedly. "Say that you want to eat her pussy."

"I – I want to eat my sister's pussy," she said. At her own words, her own pussy tingled with a surge of excitement.

"Oh God, yes," Jack said. His fingers were doing something right and Billie had to struggle to fight against the pleasure they were giving her. She may have been doing what he wanted but she didn't have to show him that she enjoyed any part of it.

He stopped at that point anyway, and he pulled up her panties, stood up, and turned her to face him. He held his cock up to her face.

"Suck it, Billie," he whispered. "Suck the head for me while you stroke it."

"You know I don't like it in my mouth," she told him.

"I guess you're going to have to learn, baby," he said. He turned and looked down at Sara. He didn't say another word. Billie sighed. She reached out and grasped his cock and began to stroke it again. Then, after holding her breath and counting to ten and looking at the mushroom-shaped head as if she were looking at the head of a snake, she opened her mouth wide and the massive thing in her mouth.

She used her hands as she always did before, playing with his balls and stroking the thick shaft, but her mouth was full of him and all she could manage to do was work her jaw a little and suck at him.

"Oh, Billie, I swear you are the best," he whispered. "You were made for this. You were made to please a man, you little bitch."

He tangled his fingers in her curls and he began trying to fuck her mouth. She sucked him harder, but maybe that was just in her efforts to breathe. He was breathing hard, panting, whispering her name, jerking as she stroked him faster and sucked his bulbous head. It began to swell in her mouth and Jack held his breath.

"Oh, Billie," he said, "I'm gonna come..."

The cock swelled and swelled in her cheeks until all of a sudden it pulsated and filled her mouth with warm, sort of salty, foul-tasting liquid. It happened again and again and her mouth could not hold all of it and she did her best to swallow some, but more dribbled down her cheeks and chin...

Jack gasped and whimpered the whole time, and then after he told her that was the best cocksucking he had ever had.

Billie opened her eyes. The sun was still there. The sky. The tree was still holding her, keeping her safe. At some point, she would have to come down and face the world again.

She would have to face the things being done to her. She would have to face the things she has done.

Billie watched Sara sitting on the back porch steps with her doll. She frowned, watching the little girl play and talk to the doll. She puffed on her cigarette, sitting alone against the wall of the garage, wearing the same yellow dress she had worn to the laundromat the last time she had seen Georgia.

"You're such a baby," she said to Sara.

The little girl ignored her. She was content to do what she was doing. She was brushing the hair on the doll. The doll was a pretty girl model type doll.

"You know real girls don't look like her."

"So?"

"So... why do you always play with such stupid toys?"

Sara frowned at her.

"You're stupid," she said. "You don' play with nothin'. You just ride that stupid bike everywhere and talk to strangers."

"I ain't scared of everything like you."

"I ain't scared of everything."

"You're scared of the dark," Billie said. "You have to have your closet light on every night just so you can sleep."

Sara tucked her chin down, holding her doll tightly.

"Sara's a baby... " Billie sing-songed, and that was when the little girl got up and stomped toward her.

"Shut up."

"Make me."

"Why are you pickin' on me?"

"Because you get treated special all the time while I get nothin' and I'm tired of it."

"Well," Sara said, "I didn't do anything, so leave me alone... " She turned and walked away and was several steps away, almost to the porch when she let the word drop. "Bitch."

Billie tossed away her butt and jumped up off the grass, running after the little girl who made it into the house ahead of her and into the living room which was where Billie caught ahold of her and wrestled her to the floor. She straddled the little girl and grabbed her arms, still struggling to pin her down completely as they both panted and Sara squirmed beneath her.

"Take it back."

"No."

"Take it back, Sara."

"You're mean. Billie. You're always mean to me."

"That's 'cause you're a spoiled little brat."

"I'm not a brat... and I'm not spoiled. Now let me up."

The two struggled, wrestled there on the floor, Billie on top, her dress riding her thighs, Sara beneath her in shorts and a t-shirt wriggling, working from side to side and kicking with her legs. And Billie felt it. Billie felt it and she wasn't letting her sister up.

"Tell me I'm not a bitch," Billie said.

And finally her sister looked up at her, red in the face and tired, and gave in.

"You're not a bitch," she said, but it did no good, for Billie was not letting her up. "Billie, what are you doing?"

"Let me finish, OK?" Billie said. "Keep trying to get loose if you want. It feels better when you do that."

"What feels better?"

"Between my legs."

Billie was grinding against her little sister's hard little belly and her little sister did as she asked and began struggling again, struggling to get free.

"Oh... oh... oh... " she was whimpering, looking down into her little sister's innocent eyes. Then it happened. She stiffened up, cried out, quivered all over, and grabbed onto her little sister with an urgency. Sara looked frightened. "Oh, Sara... it feels so good," Billie said, and it eased the fear.

Billie looked up through the leaves at the sun shining down and she looked around at the sky.

"I molested my sister," she said. "I should a gone back to Georgia but was too ashamed of runnin' away from her, and I let Jack come in my mouth and I blamed it on Sara, and then I molested her."

The breeze picked up, rustling the leaves about her, cooling her skin. She wiped the tears from her eyes and shook her head.

"More than once... " she said. "I'm a bad girl."

The two girls sat together on Billie's bed. Billie talked while Sara listened. Billie told Sara everything. Well, not everything... She protected her, the way she always did, the way she always had, from the nasty stuff. But the alcohol, the parties, the cleaning up vomit at eight years old, the starving because there was no money, the learning how to do things because mom was too drunk...

And Jack comes and saves them, and Mom goes to rehab and cleans up, and Billie gets nothing... no "Thank you for all you did that no kid should ever have to do", no "I'm sorry for everything", no "I really put you through hell"... no "I love you Billie"...

Sara sat and listened and held her Billie's hand. Billie showed her the notebook under the mattress. She showed her all the other volumes of Jo, all of the notebooks she had kept since the age of seven, bunches of them, collected in her closet in a box.

When she asked Billie about what had happened between the two of them the day of the argument, the day that Billie sat on top of her and rubbed against her, Billie didn't know what to say. Finally she asked Sara if she ever touched herself "down there".

"Sometimes", Sara said, blushing.

"Well, I was just rubbing against you instead, and it felt really good. I had a... a... or-ga-nism."

Sara shrugged.

"I can't explain it," Billie said.

"Well," Sara said, "let me try it."

"I got a better idea."

Billie locked the door and she took off her shorts and t-shirt and underwear and she got Sara to do the same. They compared bodies, compared nipples and barely-existent boobies versus non-existent, and then they compared pussies. Billie looked at her little sister's pussy all spread apart, all pink inside, and remembered the night Jack stood behind her, telling her what to say.

"Lay down, Sara," Billie said. "Just move your legs apart and relax."

Lying down on her tummy with her legs kicking up behind her, Billie had begun gently playing with her sister's little pussy. She saw the flush come over her sister right away, that flush that was almost like a rash on the chest and face, and the little girl's thighs trembled in a positive reaction to the touch.

Moving closer, Billie spread the lips apart with her fingers and stuck out her tongue. She began licking the upper part of the lips, licking that really sensitive spot where she had been gently rubbing, and Sara's lower body twitched.

"I tried," Billie said quietly to the sky, "and she liked it, but she didn't have an organism. I just hope she can still enjoy bein' a kid."

Billie took her time climbing down out of the tree. Climbing up was the easy part. It was getting down that was difficult sometimes. Difficult but never impossible. Not for Billie.

She reached the ground and she dug her bike out of the brush. She climbed on and began riding. She rode all over town. Good parts of town, bad parts of town, dangerous places... the graveyard. Then she headed for home. But along the way, she hit Ash Boulevard and took the big hill down, riding like the wind.

Riding up behind the house, she parked her bike by the garage. She walked up to the back porch, climbed the stairs, and entered the kitchen.

Billie's mother sat at the kitchen table with a box of Kleenex and a bottle of whiskey in front of her. The bottle was opened and a shot was poured in a glass in front of her. It just sat there.

"Billie..."

"Mom..."

"I – I've been waiting for you b-because I don't want to drink this, do I? Please, tell me, Billie."

"No, Mom, you don't want to drink that," Billie said, rushing to her, standing next to her.

"Jack's gone, baby," her mother said. "We had a big fight and he's gone."

"I'm sorry, Mom," Billie said.

"No," her mother said. "You, Billie, don't have to be sorry for anything. My God, Billie, how could I just forget everything I've done to you?"

"It's OK, Mom," the girl said.

"No," the woman said, and she took Billie by the arms. "You don't understand what I'm saying, Billie. I'm your mother and I fucked up and I'm sorry."

The tears began to flow down Billie's cheeks, and then her mother's cheeks, and Sara walked into the room to see her mother embracing Billie, the two of them sobbing, her mother telling Billie that she loved her.

Sara quietly passed them and sat on the back porch. With tears in her eyes, she smiled.

She didn't need a thank you. Hearing her mother say those words and seeing her hug Billie, that was reward enough.

(TO BE CONTINUED)