A Price Worth Paying

I don't know if our words will help make up their minds, but we want to see you released, Mister Fraser. You've served enough time for what you do to our son. Quite frankly, my wife and I applaud what you do to such a monster. If that makes us sound callous, so be it. But my wife and I will never forget what he did to those girls, and what he planned to do to our daughters. I'm just thankful that he never got the chance to ruin even more lives. All I know is that he's now alone in a cell and I hope he rots."

They walked by, his father stopping, offering his hand. I rose to my feet and shook his hand. "Thank you," I said. He dipped his head. His mother then hugged me tightly. Didn't say a thing, but it was a lovely gesture.

After that, quite frankly, I knew I had parole sorted. If the victim's own family supported my release, then they could only judge me on my time in prison and whether I'd still be a danger to society at large if I was allowed out.

Four months later, four very long months later, I received a letter from the parole board. It was full of legal jargon, but what mattered were two very simple words stamped in big red letters.

Parole granted.

******

A Price Worth Paying

I think it would have been unusual to have some many staff and guards willing to shake a prisoner's hand as they left. I was wearing the same clothes I'd arrived in nearly eight years earlier. Few bucks in my pocket. An outdated mobile phone. Watch. Sunnies. Keys. And that was about it. It was eight o'clock in the morning. I was the only prisoner being released that day.

"Good luck out there, Mikey," the very pretty correctional officer said, "And though I'd like to see you back, perhaps not in a prison suit again, eh?"

"Marie, I'd go steal a car just to see your smiling face again."

The place roared with laughter. "Get out of here before I throw you back in a cell, heartbreaker."

"Be still my beating heart for I shall not see you again. Unless you want my number and we can get a drink when your shift is over?" She blushed, shaking her head. I felt a gentle nudge in my shoulder. "Officer, I'm merely conversing with the lovely correctional officer."

"You're hitting on her. Badly. Get your butt to the gate, Mikey."

It was a lovely day despite the cool breeze. It was a relief that I was now a free man. Stopping at the last gate before freedom, the guard offered his hand. "Good luck out there, Mikey. Try not to come back again, though I know some of the lads would like to see you again."

I took the offered hand. "Some good lads in there, but one prison sentence is long enough. Time to actually start my life. But thanks."

In the waiting room was only one person. My sister. Who promptly burst into tears when I appeared. I hugged her tightly, feeling a little moisture in my eyes too. It had been nearly eight years since I'd been able to hug her as a free man. "You know, the price was worth it just for this moment," I whispered, "Though where is everyone?"

"At home. Mum wanted to come but she's a mess already. Would have cried from the moment you walked out the door to getting home."

Taking my hand, she led me to the car, sliding into the passenger seat. It was weird being back in a car. Outside the walls and fences that had kept me enclosed for so long. And the city had changed in eight years. Seemed busier than I remembered. "Hungry?" she asked.

"Actually had breakfast before they kicked me out. I'd just like to get home."

The highway running west was quiet compared to the one leading east into the city. Eventually turning off and heading into the suburbs, we were following roads I remembered when she pulled the car to the side of the road and switched off the engine. Turning towards me, she leaned over and kissed my cheek. "Mikey, I need to explain something to you."

"Becca, I know how you feel."

"No, not that. Something else." She took a deep breath as I turned towards her, gently grasping her hands in mine. She was as beautiful as I remembered. "Mikey, you never had a childhood. Because of our father, I barely remember having fun at home. School was a means to escape for a few hours, but you never had the chance. You were a grown up long before expected. And because of that, I think you missed out on a lot of things, particularly dating."

"What..."

She put a finger to my lips. "Please, let me finish. As you've heard more times than you can probably count now, the girls at our school adored you. Some flat out loved you in their own way. You were respected, adored, loved, admired. Everyone knew what you put up with. Why nothing was ever done... Well, you certainly did something twice, but you carry more scars than anyone I can think of. Mikey, you never dated. Never. Jennifer was your best friend and..."

"She loved me."

"Loves you, Mikey. Her feelings haven't changed. And, trust me, there are a few more women, as we're all women now, not the girls you remember, who still feel the same way. And that leads me to my idea. We're not a couple yet. You know how I feel about you. You have for eight years. But you never really got to experience sowing your wild oats when you were younger."

"That doesn't really bother me."

"It bothers me, because damn it, Mikey, you should have felt all the love so many wanted to give you. So I'm giving you four months until my birthday. I'm willing to wait another four months. You understand?"

"Our birthday?"

She smiled immediately. "Our birthday, you're mine, and from that day, you're mine forever. Until then, there are numerous women who would love..."

I leaned forward and kissed her. Definitely took her by surprise, but she reacted quickly. Lasted a couple of minutes before we broke apart. She had very soft lips. Her breath was minty fresh. Her blue eyes sparkled as I kept my face close to hers. "Becca, you don't have to," I said softly.

"I know I don't have to do this, but I want to it for you. This is my gift to you, big brother. For everything you did for me. Four months, go wild. You've been behind bars for eight years."

"Are you sure, Becca? I mean really sure. I've had eight years to think. My sole intention was to come out and be with you."

"Really?" she asked softly. I kissed her again to prove it, sliding my tongue into her mouth. When she released a soft moan, we both needed to chuckle. "I love you, Mikey. But I promised them. And I seriously don't mind. The only thing is I won't want to know the details."

I felt my eyebrows raise. "Them?"

"As I said, you're popular, Mikey."

"Becca... I love you too."

"I know. You've proven that every day of your life."

The rest of the drive home took barely five minutes, pulling into the driveway to find no-one waiting outside. Getting out, I had nothing with me, my sister taking my hand and leading me into an empty house. She glanced back and smiled, leading me to the rear sliding door.

That's where everyone was waiting for me. Mum and Mark, her fiancé. Jennifer. Rachel. Sally. Katie. Megan. My best mates from school. Others I'd consider passing friends at most. My grandparents. And the Thompsons, father, mother, two daughters.

Mum hugged me first, tears running down her cheeks. I needed a little cry as well as I hugged her right back. Certainly received plenty of kisses all over my face, which had me chuckling. "I'm going to mother you to death. I hope you know that," she warned, giggling away. That sound was a dagger to the heart. Mum had rarely giggled when growing up.

Mark shook my hand. "Guess when you're married, I'll call you Dad instead," I suggested. The thought got to him, so I added, "Don't remember that noise escaping my Mum for eighteen years. The fact she's standing there smiling..." I didn't finish as I found myself embraced rather tightly by my future step-father.

"Thank you, Mikey," he murmured.

"Thank you for looking after them while I was gone."

He snorted as he leaned back, hand on my shoulder. "Think anyone would fuck with these two now after what happened? It was assumed, if word got to you, that you'd break out of prison and deal with it."

"Hmmm. Maybe."

Jennifer grabbed my biceps. "Now is that from weight training or swapping hands when jacking off?"

"Fucking hell, Jen. Never change!"

We hugged each other tightly. "Fuck, I missed you," she whispered, feeling her start to shudder in my arms. I held her for a long time. We'd always been close. My best friend. She lived four doors up and knew what I'd gone through. She was the only one I ever told. The only one apart from the family who'd seen the scars. The only one outside of family I'd trusted. We both knew we were better friends than in a relationship. We worried we'd lose the friendship if it didn't work out. I just thought we were rather sensible about it. I loved her just as much, but it would never be physical except for those times before prison.

I worked my way around the crowd. I was allowed to drink at home, at least, though if I was caught in a pub, I'd be hauled back to prison. It was weird seeing some of my friends after eight years. Everyone was older. Different. Moved on with their lives, while I'd stayed still. I hadn't expected the Thompsons, but the greeting was warm and friendly, and their two daughters were beauties. I was fairly sure they didn't know what their brother had planned with them, which was a relief.

It was a long afternoon. I ate more food than I had in years, Mum making sure all my favourites were prepared. Washed it down with plenty of soft drink and ended the night with some proper coffee. Nearly everyone disappeared except for Jennifer, who wished everyone else goodnight before taking my hand, leading me towards my old bedroom.

Pushing me through the doorway, I sat on the edge of the bed as she closed the door and strode towards me. I simply couldn't help the sigh. "I haven't had sex in over eight years, Jen, but I just can't do it. I mean, I'd love to have sex with you, but I can't."

I found a soft hand in mine, helping me to my feet, two arms wrapped around me. "We all know," she whispered, "About Becca, how she feels, what she wants. She told us this idea." She looked up at me. "I think you're making the right decision. You're my best friend. Nothing will ever change that. I'm hoping cuddling isn't out of the question, though."

"I bloody hope not. I've slept alone for far too long."

I was in my bedroom the next day when Becca strode in. "You didn't have sex with Jennifer?"

"No."

"Despite the fact she clearly wanted it?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

I met her eyes and she blushed. "Do you really need to know why, Becca?"

She actually threw a strop, stamped her foot and marched on out of my bedroom. It was very cute, no doubt pissing her off further as she walked to the other end of the house. Two nights later, Rachel was around and Becca pretty much ordered me to take her to my bedroom. As soon as we were, she cuddled me, letting me know Jennifer had already spread the word. No sex, no nudity, only hugs, cuddles and maybe a little kissing at most.

"Your sister loves you so much," Rachel said later in bed, "Most men would have leapt at this sort of opportunity."

"I made her a promise. I intend on keeping it. But you're not weirded out?"

"We all should be, but after everything that happened from the time you were five, we certainly understand, Mikey."

Within a week, I simply had to sit down and talk to my mother about it. I made us both a coffee, sitting on the lounge in the living room. It was brighter than what I remembered. Nice pictures on the wall. Looked like it had been redecorated again. Mark and Becca were at work, the house mostly silent. I still found silence a little unnerving. The prison was always noisy, one way or another.

"Rebecca is in love with you, Mikey," she said, cutting off whatever I was going to say, "She's been in love with you for most of her life, I think."

"Why isn't anyone freaking out about what she wants?"

"What do you want?"

"Her."

"Then who cares what anyone else thinks. Is it illegal? Yes. Is anyone going to do anything about it? No. Your sister sat Mark down and explained everything not long after I introduced him to her. He understands as he knows the story. Jennifer flat out approves and wants to be involved in any wedding. Won't be legitimate, but who cares?" She took my free hand. "Mikey, trust me on this, those we trust know and have given their word not to tell anyone. After everything we've been through, people are more than understanding." She took a sip of her coffee. "I didn't know you felt the same way."

"I've had eight years to think about it. I'm in love with her, Mum. I realised everything I did was for you, but the thought of anything happening to my little sister... and then when it did happen..." I sipped at my own drink. "During therapy, it wasn't just the anger I felt. I hadn't dealt with plenty all my life. But I felt like such a failure. I wasn't the one who went through such trauma, but it was knowing I'd spent eighteen years doing all I could to protect her, and then for just one night when I wasn't there..."

"It wasn't your fault, Mikey."

"I know. Nearly six years of therapy finally put that in my head." I took another sip. "How's she doing?"

"Absolutely fine. She's happy. Happier now that her big brother is back home."

"Good."

"You're not going to sleep with anyone else, are you?"

"Nope."

She leaned over, kissed my cheek. "Good boy. Give it a month and she'll drop the whole idea."

Many would have thought I had a harem of lovers considering the visitors I had. Every morning, Becca would show interest in what my 'lover' had to say, as she didn't want to hear it from me. Each and every time, the reply was "We talked and cuddled. Maybe a kiss at most. He's very warm."

Jennifer was the last to visit me a month after I'd been at home. Cuddling in bed before we went to sleep, she whispered, "Maybe I should suggest we fucked all night?"

"You're a tease. But I think it might upset her though. Think she's on the verge of dropping this whole idea." I pulled her tighter. "What are you going to do, Jen?"

"Try and find someone like you and hope he spends the rest of his life fucking me like you did those few times before you went to prison. Still think about those nights rather fondly while fucking myself stupid with a nice, big, fake cock!"

"Fucking hell, Jen."

"I've had relationships. You're just lucky I'm here while I'm single." She kissed my cheek. "Could I take a mould of your cock, for old time's sake?"

"Ask Becca, see what she says."

My sister didn't even need to ask the question the next morning. What did surprise me was she sat down on my lap, cuddled me, and started to cry. "You really love me?" she whispered.

"Becca... I don't just love you..." She looked up and met my eyes. "I think you're now realising how much I do love you."

She kissed me hard in front of Mum, Mark and Jennifer. I heard Mark chuckle, suggesting we get a little privacy, Becca eventually moving to straddle my lap as the kisses picked up quickly in intensity. She was still in her bedroom attire, pair of small shorts and a cami, so plenty of bronzed skin was on display. She had filled out nicely. B-cup breasts, pert little arse. Tight body all around as she kept herself fit. I did worry about moving my hands towards her rear, but when I gave it a gentle squeeze, she giggled. "Do you like?" she whispered.

"You're fucking gorgeous, Becca. I might have been behind bars but I've seen you blossom every two weeks."

"I don't want to wait for our birthday."

"Neither do I, Becca. So are you going to drop this idea of yours?" She nodded eagerly. "Good. I appreciate the thought, I really do, but you're the only one I want. Thought about it for eight years, thought about it every day since I was released. I'd take you out on a date tonight, but... well... I don't start work for another fortnight, and I have a few more months of the electronic tag before I'm a completely free man."

"We can have plenty of fun here, Mikey," she breathed into my ear. Sent a shiver up and down my spine, "Think it's about time my pussy saw some action for real, not just my fingers and toys." She leaned back and blushed. "Um, I broke... it... with a toy..."

"Don't care. I wasn't here, Becca. And you were a young woman who, let's remember, freely admitted to masturbating constantly."

"I want to feel what it's like for someone else to give me an orgasm."

"I plan on giving you plenty, every day, for the rest of your life."

I was only allowed out of the house during daylight hours, needing to be at home between the hours of 8pm to 6am. Once I was working, that would be adjusted slightly, depending on my hours. It meant I could go to the gym at least. I couldn't afford that just yet, Becca offering to pay for it and I'd pay her back later, though I had a feeling she wouldn't accept it anyway. Otherwise, I helped around the house to keep myself occupied. Mark had done more around the house in the few short years he'd been part of their lives than the dickhead still in prison.

It was Friday night when Mum announced she would be going away with Mark for the weekend. Becca obviously knew, as she took me out shopping that day, taking me to the nearest mall, where she wandered into plenty of shops. The fact she was shopping for certain items had me grinning, before heading to the supermarket, both of us piling things into the cart.

Returning home, Mum and Mark were just about ready to go. Mum hugged Becca first before she gave me a long hug. "Enjoy your weekend. See you very late on Sunday," she whispered. Mark shook my hand, winked, told me to have fun, chuckling to himself as he walked out the door. Turning back towards Becca, she blushed brightly.

"They know?"

"I paid for them to go away, Mikey."

I wasn't going to let her cook dinner alone, though she tried more than once to shoo me out of the kitchen. I relented enough that I stayed out of her way, watching her get everything ready, before announcing we needed to get ready. "So am I getting dressed like a date?" I wondered.

"Yes."

"And after dinner, what am I doing with my date?"

"Hopefully taking her dancing in the living room."

I laughed as it was an incredibly sweet idea. I walked towards her, running my hands down her back until they rested just above her arse. "And after that?"

"I'm hoping my date will take me upstairs to his room and we'll make love. And then we'll keep doing that all weekend."

"I love you, Rebecca."

"I love you so much, Michael."

I kissed her softly, feeling her mouth open enough that I could slide my tongue into her mouth. I pulled her tight to my body, growling into her mouth as she whimpered, no doubt feeling my immediately erect cock pressing against her. Somehow, we managed to break apart, the look in her eyes suggesting we should just abandon dinner and everything else. But a deep breath or two on both our parts calmed us down, taking her hand in mind and heading to our respective bedrooms.

"So nice?" I asked.

"Check your bed," she replied.

Walking into my bedroom, I'm sure she heard my roar of laughter as everything she wanted me to wear was laid out. Checking the sizes, she either had a good eye or had checked my sizes when I was asleep. But she'd spared no expense as the labels were not cheap. I put on the shirt first, which required cufflinks. Never worn a shirt like that before. The trousers were comfortable. The belt was leather and it just smelled new. Cologne smelled marvellous. She even had things like a watch for me to wear. Black leather shoes. I looked in the mirror and thought, 'Well, I scrub up nicely for an ex-convict at least.'

Knocking on her door, she asked me to wait in the living room. That wasn't a problem. I grabbed a beer from the fridge, as I felt an onset of nerves. I was in love with my sister. Everyone seemed to be okay with that idea. I knew we'd had one hell of a tough upbringing at times, and then what she'd been through after that, but for people to simply accept our future relationship still boggled the mind. I could believe Mum understanding, but everyone else?