A Burden Worth Carrying Ch. 02

Author's note:

I've had a fantastic response so far to chapter 1, so I paused the other story I'm working on to give the people what they want... I also low-key feel bad for that cliff hanger. At least, I would, if I left it dangling.

I highly recommend starting at the beginning, because I'm diving straight off the cliff here. I'm also not going to re-hash content warnings for every single part, so consider all the CW's from chapter 1 applicable here. This one's a little lighter than the last one. Don't worry, though, these two will always go to weird places together.

(New) content warnings: a passing reference to past SA, light painal, and I'd call it an accidental BDSM dynamic. If any of that is likely to cause you distress, maybe skip this one. My intent is always to weave these things in with empathy and love for the characters, I just want to be clear on what you're getting into.

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"What if I fuck you in the ass?"

I could scarcely believe the question came out of my mouth, and I could feel her reaction almost instantly. The energy in the room changed in the blink of an eye.

She started massaging my balls before she even said anything. I could feel there really wasn't anything else that needed to be said.

"You want to fuck your little sister in the ass?" She cooed against my chest. I could hear the smile in her words. We both felt my cock get even harder as she spoke and the words sank in.

"I want to fuck you in the ass," I said, more confidently, realizing even as the words came out how true they were.

She squeezed my balls hard and moaned at my words. She still didn't lift her head, like she wanted to stay as small as possible against me.

"Take me," she said very softly, "I don't want you to be gentle."

I could feel what she meant, somewhere beyond words. She wanted me to hurt her. She trusted me to hurt her.

Maybe in a different frame of mine, I would have recoiled at the thought, but several of her words to me earlier stuck out in my mind. Sometimes one hurt is the only thing that stops the others.

The practicality of keeping my penetration of her oral or anal was so obvious it didn't even need to be said. But there was something more there. Masochism on her part, certainly, but also a certain poetry to doubling down on our taboo breaking. The idea felt more intimate in a way that felt almost soothing.

She wanted me to... take her. So much meaning in those two words. I looked down at her and let myself wonder what taking her would look like.

Before I knew it, my fingers were weaving through her brown hair. I felt her moan more than heard it, then felt her wince when my fingers suddenly pulled into a fist.

"Fuck..." she said, surprised, her head following the pain as I lifted her off my chest. I could see the surprise in her eyes rapidly melt into something very complex. "... fuck yes! Fucking take me, John!"

The almost animal way she said it, and the very animal look in her eyes as she did, washed away what was left of my thinking mind. I held her by her hair, looked into her eyes and said, "Get my cock out."

She didn't hesitate for a nanosecond, unbuttoning my pants as quickly as she could with shaky hands and pulling out my cock without trying to remove any clothes.

"Get it as wet as you want it," I tell her, my heart pounding, the implication clear. Giving her the choice felt... correct.

"Jesus, John..." she enthusiastically gagged herself on my cock, provoking quick salvation, "... where has this person been my whole life?"

She sucked on me for maybe 30 seconds. Enough to get my shaft wet, but not soak it with the thick sort of saliva that would really do the job. Then she stopped and looked up at me, waiting.

I stood up and looked at her for a moment, my cock now hanging over her face. "Bend over the armrest. Head down."

She again complied quickly and without hesitation, making herself as small as possible on the couch as she lifted her ass in the air for me.

I pulled her leggings and panties down around her knees in a single, rough yank. I heard her whimper softly when I exposed her to the air of the living room.

Take me, she said.

I mounted her, wasting no time in pressing the spit-covered head of my cock into her expectant asshole. I felt her whole body tense as I pushed inside her. She whimpered much louder, but I felt her pushing her hips back against me even as her tense asshole worked overtime to push me back out. I wasn't cruel or sadistic about it, just too eager for it to be wholly comfortable for her.

She made a sound that was both intense discomfort and relief when I bottomed out inside her ass for the first time. I felt her whole body quivering with the intensity of the sensation. We seemed to be somewhere beyond words--a feeling that was only heightened when she reached behind herself with both hands and spread her ass for me. I felt my cock slip a little deeper inside her. But it was mostly the image of complete surrender that stuck with me. I had taken her ass. And now she was giving it to me, too.

I relaxed my core and let her body do what it had been working so hard for--to push my cock back out of her. I felt her shudder in ecstasy as her own muscles pushed me out of her forbidden hole. I immediately pushed back inside her, faster than the first time but still not particularly fast or hard. She kept her hands behind her, spreading her ass around my cock, even as a confusing mix of sounds were muffled by the couch cushions.

She seemed to have fallen into the tiny gap between ecstasy and agony where her perception was vacillating between one, the other, and then both in a way that was utterly overwhelming. I made tiny movements, trying to keep her trapped in that gap. When her voice registered pain, I relaxed and let her push me out a bit. When the relief came, I pushed back against her.

By degrees, it took more and more pressure to hurt her. She was relaxing into me. She was surrendering to my cock. And that is how I found myself fucking her ass, pushing in and sliding out of her in a jagged rhythm dictated by her body, and her mental toughness. Soon enough, her vocalizations were nearly all pleasurable, regardless of which point of my stroke she was experiencing. I was fucking her ass hard, and she seemed almost in a trance.

I let go of all that careful attunement to her body and let myself focus on the sensations of my own. My orgasm was not far behind this surrender. My hands gripped her hips with intensity that can only be described as possessive, my thrusts became rougher and more random, and my thighs began to quiver with the effort of it.

On a whim, I reached down and pulled hard on her ponytail just as my orgasm began. She yelped and her hands finally left her ass as they dropped to the cushions involuntarily to brace herself. I came inside her ass as I pulled her hair, my balls resting against her pussy as they emptied inside her. I felt my growl of satisfaction more than I heard it. My perception narrowed so far I doubt I could have told you my own name.

When I finally returned, I released her hair, and relaxed my body. I felt my cock slowly going soft, but I was still buried to the hilt in her asshole. She was breathing hard, her eyes closed, her head at a weird angle. Her face looked placid, almost like she was asleep. Words felt like too much, even for me. She looked to be several neighborhoods over from the capacity to speak.

I suddenly wished we had gone to my bed, so that I could reposition us such that I could hold her. Holding her did not feel like an optional part of the process, but I was too large to fit behind her on the couch.

She whimpered in disappointment when I began to slowly pull our hips apart. I caressed her lower back with my right hand to comfort her as I pulled out. I got off the couch and slowly pulled her ankles out from under her, laying her down. She sighed in relief, as if she had forgotten what position her body was in, but was grateful for the shift.

"I'll be right back," I leaned down and kissed her temple. My voice was hoarse, but the room was so silent it did not matter.

She nodded weakly in acknowledgment, but still did not open her eyes.

I went into my room and pulled the covers back on my bed. When I returned, she may very well have been sleeping. Still, I didn't feel right about leaving her alone on the couch. I rolled her onto her back as gently as I could, then cradled her in my arms, one arm under her legs, the other across her back, and lifted her off the couch.

Her eyes opened in surprise and confusion as I lifted her in the air, but she closed them again when she saw my face. She wrapped her arms around my neck slowly, and I carried her into my room. I gently set her in my bed and slowly removed her leggings and panties, which were still bunched around her knees. Finally, I covered her with the sheet and blanket, walked over to the other side of the bed, and crawled in next to her.

It seemed to take a great deal of effort, but she turned herself on her side, facing away from me, and I spooned her, one arm tight around her chest and my whole body pressed against hers under the covers.

I heard a very contented sigh, and soon after, soft snoring.

~|~

I must not have been far behind, because the next thing I remember, it was dark outside, and she was gently wiggling her way out of my arms. I let her go, still groggy. The memories of what we had done slowly trickled back to me as she snuck off to the bathroom.

Not even the slightest part of regret trickled in with them. I felt different. More substantial, maybe. I felt an intense urge to make sure she was okay, and was relieved to hear her walking back in to my bedroom with her cup in her hand.

She just smiled at me and crawled back into bed, pushing her head onto my chest as I wrapped an arm around her.

"I have never been fucked like that," her voice might sound giddy if it weren't so placid.

"Yeah, that felt... different," I agreed.

"I know I told you to take me, but I don't think I really knew what that meant until you actually did it," I could feel her shaking her head against my chest, "... I mean, I've been taken in a rapey way, but it's completely different when it's someone who loves you, who you want to be taken by."

She must have felt me tense up a little, because she quickly added, "Please don't make that a thing right now, John. I'll tell you when I'm ready."

I took a deep breath and let it go, which was surprisingly easy. It felt like I knew exactly what I needed to know, and it very much felt like the wrong time to go prying into traumas she'd kept buried. It actually added to our sense of intimacy that she was so willing to blurt out something so intensely personal in a casual, painless way. Like she was just giving me access to her own inner monologue.

"I didn't know I could do that," I admitted, surprise evident in my tone.

"I didn't know anyone could do that," she said softly, a smile in her voice.

"I'm not even that sure what I did," I chuckled.

She seemed to be thinking about it, so I began to play with her hair idly.

"I'm not sure how useful words are to describe it, but I've felt kinda sorta like that a few times when I've done BDSM stuff with people," her tone was thoughtful, "but that felt much more intense, and organic. Like you could actually see into my mind and push me right up against my limit without ever making me cross it. I felt a bit like a helpless toy, but also like I was your most cherished and precious toy. And when you came..." she sighed happily, "... Jesus fucking christ. It's like your soul was penetrating me, and mine was leaving my body."

It didn't feel like there was anything else to say about it, so I just played with her hair in silence. The silence felt comfortable and warm, like perfect understanding had settled between us.

After a long time, I decided to bring up the bizarre fixation that had been growing in the back of my mind.

"I've been thinking about something, but it's kinda weird."

"Weirder than fucking your sister's brains out through her ass?"

"Maybe."

"Well, in that case," she finally sat up and looked at me, smiling, "I simply have to hear it."

"I..." I hesitated, but what was real intimacy if not the license to say bizarre things to each other without fear of being misunderstood? "... I started thinking, maybe it makes a lot of sense for you to get a hysterectomy."

"You're right," she said, a sly smile spreading across her face, "that's the weirdest fucking thing anybody's ever said to me. But I'm pretty sure what you really mean by that is 'I want to be able to fuck your pussy raw.'"

I looked at her, blushing a little, despite myself. "That's part of it, of course. But you've also always said that you having children would be the worst mistake in human history. And if you're serious about being a prostitute, then between that and us... reproduction is going to be more a daily risk than a useful function of your body."

She laid her head back down on my chest and silently played with my chest hair for a while. "Any other person I'd slap in the face for being so presumptuous. But I could see in your eyes you said it because you genuinely care about me, and that's how your weird man-nerd brain works. And you're not wrong. And I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been thinking about that, too. But the idea feels really... final? Kinda like a hundred times more extreme version of getting a dumb tattoo on your 18th birthday. How do I know if future me will feel the same way? And besides that, I don't even know if I have health insurance anymore. Dad had me on his policy, but since he decided not to give a fuck if I live or die, I'm guessing I'm not anymore. And I've been way too fucking depressed to apply for Medicaid. So it's a whole thing. I don't even know if Medicaid will cover an elective hysterectomy for a healthy 22-year-old woman. Those sick fucks definitely want me to pop out as many babies as my body can handle, and it seems to me they've got a strong preference for me dying in childbirth while I'm at it."

I thought about her words in silence for a while as she continued to play with my chest hair. "I figured you might be insurance limbo. I'll find out from dad what the deal is. And I'll help you with Medicaid if he's really that big a piece of shit. I'm sure you'd feel better having that sorted out regardless."

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"And you're right. That's a metaphysical question women are more burdened with that I did not really consider. I'll support whatever you choose to do, and if you want someone to talk to about it, I'm here for you."

"The fact I'm never allowed to marry you is an unforgivable indictment of the institution of marriage," she turned her head and kissed my chest affectionately.

"Fuck marriage. Fuck institutions. Fuck our parents. Fuck the world. We've got each other, and if anybody doesn't see that for how beautiful it is, fuck them too."

"Can you please stop being so fucking sexy when I'm already completely sexually exhausted? My body doesn't know what to do with that." I could both hear and feel her smile.

"No promises," I smile, leaning down to kiss the back of her head.

"As me another awkwardly presumptuous question so I'm not exhausted-horny anymore," she said, the smile still on her lips.

"Well, if you're offering... I've been dying to know what the fuck happened that night mom and dad kicked you out. You said you didn't want to talk about it then, and they blushed and clammed up when I asked, all of which only made me more curious."

I felt her laugh silently against me. She sat up and looked at me again, a blush on her cheeks. It took quite a lot to make her blush, so that only added fuel to the fire of my curiosity.

"So, I told you about the OnlyFans, right? Well, me being the genius I am, I decided to go half-cocked into being an actual whore. One of the guys on there was local, and kept asking to meet me. I told him I'd fuck him for $500, and he sent me the money inside of 5 minutes. Problem was, he didn't have anywhere to host me. And I don't tend to do the whole thinking-it-through thing, as you know. So I decided it would be a good idea to wait for mom and dad to go on their date night and tell him to come over. He was railing me from behind when they came back early and barged into my room..."

She blushed even deeper recounting it.

"Holy. Shit." I laughed out of shock more than anything.

"Yeah. Nothing quite so humiliating as being naked on your hands and knees with some dude's cock inside you, you can't even remember his name because you didn't really even want to know, and watching your father gawk at you and your mother scream like you're murdering her dog."

"Well, I guess we know for certain that humiliation cannot be fatal, at least."

"Seriously, you should see somebody about that pathological silver lining shit. It makes you sound like you're from Mars," she blushed even deeper, her whole neck and chest now red. "And you're lucky I don't really get off on humiliation, or you'd have just made my problem a hundred times worse."

"Wow, you mean there's actually a kink you don't have?" I looked at her, half surprised, half mocking.

"I'm as surprised as you are about that one. But I can say firmly as someone who has experienced the maximum possible level of humiliation, it does not make me wet one little bit."

"That's good to know, I guess," I smirked at her.

"I'm sure it is. But anyway, maybe you can see why I need your help so much with this. All of that seemed like a good idea to me at the time. I see how monumentally stupid it was now, but obviously I'm just not the kind of person that is especially good at assessing and mitigating risk. But I'm not so dumb I can't see that there are a lot of risks, and that I need to mitigate them."

"Yeah. I think I understand now. I'm just not sure where to start," I said thoughtfully.

"I've got some ideas," she yawned, stretching languidly, "but right now I want you to shut up and hold me until I fall asleep. I can't remember the last time I felt this tired."

"Disney World when you were 11. Pretty sure you fell asleep leaning against the wall of the elevator as it took us to the floor of our room."

"Sounds about right," she laid down, her back to me again as she yawned a second time. "You aren't shutting up, though."

I slide in behind her and spoon her again, gently kissing her shoulder.

"You're not the boss of me," I said, sleep dulling my own words as I laid my head down and relaxed beside her.

"I know..." she said softly, already drifting off to sleep.

The last thought that ran through my head as I fell asleep beside her was that she sounded relieved.