I should’ve realized what was going to happen, but I refused to see it. I couldn’t believe that such evil existed, and by denying it, I ruined the rest of my life. I can never forget what happened to me, no matter how much I might wish to.

It started back when we were teenagers — my brother Billy and I. Billy and I were two of six kids, raised in your average family. He was four years older than I was, and for the most part ignored me — except when I turned fourteen. I was the only girl in the family, and I’ve since read that it’s normal to see some sexual activity between siblings — playing doctor and so forth — and that’s pretty much what happened then.

He’d trap me in my room and try to pull up my shirt so he could see my developing breasts, that sort of thing. My other brothers did it too, but not nearly as much as Billy.

This went on for a while, until I finally complained to my mother — and she made them stop. I didn’t think about it often, but every once in a while, in the years that followed, I’d catch Billy looking at me with an odd gleam in his eyes — that made me nervous. But once he went away to college, I more or less forgot about it.

Well, when I was 18 Billy got married to Shanda, a really nice girl. They were both barely graduated from college, and it looked like they had a nice life ahead of them. Shanda came from a very wealthy family, and Billy started working in her father’s stockbrokerage firm, and quickly got promoted. Within four years they had a house, two nice cars, plenty of money — everything they could want. Except a child. I’ll never forget the day that Billy came over to the house and told us the doctors said Shanda could never have children. He was really busted up by that.

I felt really bad for them. He and I had never been close, but over time I’d stopped being mad at him for “fooling around” with me when we were younger. I’d taken a psyche class, and I knew that it wasn’t that abnormal. Plus, he’d stopped being a bossy older brother, and had been really nice to me when I started college — a couple times he sent me money just because — said he knew I was a starving college student. And now, with the pain of Shanda’s infertility shadowing his life, I thought I could help him. I was working in a bookstore that summer, waiting to get into grad school, since a plain psyche degree was useless.

I began to spend a lot of time with Billy and Shanda, trying to help them out. I had a lot of free time on my hands, since my boyfriend Jeff was on active duty in the Gulf. We’d been seeing each other for almost two years, and I was sure he was Mr. right. He was as religious as I was, and we both didn’t believe in sex before marriage. I knew I was lucky to have someone like that, and I couldn’t wait for him to come home at Christmas. He’d been hinting around that we’d maybe get married then, and I couldn’t wait.

And then ... one hot July night I stopped over at Billy’s house to take him some dinner. Shanda had gone to Florida for the week to see her parents, and Mom wanted to be sure Billy ate right, since he’d probably subsist off of chips if no one was there to cook for him. I walked in the house —I had a key— and there was Billy, lying on the couch wearing a tee shirt and boxers. I put down the casserole Mom had made, and walked over to him — he looked like he was asleep. The air conditioning made the room arctic, so I decided to cover him up. Just as I was reaching for the afghan — his hand shot up and grabbed my arm.

He pulled me down on top of him, and before I knew it, we were on the floor, with him on top of me, groping at me, pulling my dress up. “Billy — what are you doing,” I shouted! “Stop it!”

In response, he slapped me across the face, hard. It stunned me long enough for him to rip off my panties. “I’m gonna fuck you Laura,” he said, his voice thick and urgent.

I stared up in his face with shock — he looked like a stranger. His face was flushed, his eyes glassy, and despite the chilly air in the room, his face was beaded with sweat.

“No, no! I’m your sister — you can’t do this,” I cried!

He just laughed, and fell on top of me, kissing my face, biting and sucking on my neck. My futile struggles just inflamed his lust more. “I’ve got to fuck you Laura,” he gasped, as he pulled down his shorts. His stiff penis sprang out at me, huge, swollen, and hard. “I’ve wanted to fuck you for years — and I know you want it too!” He fell on top of me and pried my legs open with his knee. I screamed and tried to push him away, but it was no use — he was much too strong for me. Before I knew it he was between my legs, and with one thrust, tore deep inside of me.

I screamed with pain, and he moaned with pleasure as he realized he had taken my virginity. He began to thrust in and out of me, over and over again, moaning with pleasure as he raped me. “Oh Laura ... man, you’re so tight ... oh god,” he called out as he pumped away furiously at me. I could only lay there and sob as he raped me, feeling awash in shame as his powerful thrusts pushed us across the floor. I looked up at him once, and his face was smeary with bliss as he raped his only sister. “Mmmmm, good...” he moaned as he licked and sucked at my face.

It seemed to go on forever. I closed my eyes, but I could feel his body shudder, I could still hear his grunts of pleasure, and winced when he called my name out in ecstasy. “Oh Laura — Oh god you feel so good! Oh yeah!” he called out. Finally, his movements grew more frantic, and with a final shuddering thrust, he came inside of me, and collapsed on top of me.