tagIncest/TabooBent & Broken Ch. 01

Bent & Broken Ch. 01

byfsqueeze©

Author's Note: Thanks to shygirlwhore for her careful editing and her thoughtful comments and suggestions. She's awesome!

*

The summer after my freshman year in college, my Mom informed me that I had to move out of our basement apartment. My Aunt Claire, her much younger sister, was moving in. Claire was a Olympic-caliber equestrian jumper. She would be training for the national championships at a brand new facility that had just been built near our city.

I remember going to watch Claire ride with Mom when I was younger. If you've ever watched horse jumping on tv, it probably didn't seem that impressive. But, in person? Seeing how big those jumps are? I was a pissed off teenager with a smart phone and a bunch of friends, but once I got a look at what she did, I put my phone away. It was harrowing, like watching someone rock climb without any safety gear.

Also, I think some people see horseback riding as kind of like riding a motorcycle. Any slob can do it, right? Not true. Claire was a fucking athlete. No doubt about it. I remember feeling a little bit guilty about eyeballing her ass in those tight white riding pants. She was twelve years younger than Mom and eight years older than me. She really looked good.

But, I was pissed when I found out about the basement apartment. Mom let me move down there right after I graduated, and I loved the privacy. It was key for having friends or girls over because I didn't have to go through the house. I had my own pretty nice bathroom, kitchen, and den area. Now, I lost it to Aunt fucking Claire for the whole summer. I had to move back to my shitty old room upstairs.

Mom's an anti-trust attorney, protecting huge companies from the government. I learned long ago that she had to read enormously long documents and that settling a case out of the courtroom was always, always, always cause for celebration. When she couldn't settle and went to trial? Damn. She was gone for weeks. Hell, months, even.

You're wondering about my Dad, maybe. Nah. He's not in the picture.

Anyways, two major events coincided to change my summer from bad to something else. First, a case Mom felt positive was going to settle at the eleventh hour? Didn't settle. Went to trial. She spent two insane weeks basically living at her office and preparing, and then she flew out to D.C. for the trial. Second, the day Mom took off, Aunt Claire got thrown from her horse, broke both arms and fucked up her back.

Mom never left the airport in D.C. Flew right back. I met her at the airport and drove her to the hospital to see Claire.

They argued in the hospital. Aunt Claire had her two casts on, and this kind of immobilizer thing around her torso.

"Maybe I can get the judge to give us an extension," Mom offered.

"No. Go do your trial. I'll be fine. Besides, could you even get an extension?"

"No, probably not."

"So, go," Claire suggested.

"I'll hire a nurse."

"You don't need to, Beth."

Mom turned to me. "Jimmy, give us a sec, will you?"

I nodded and left, but I could hear everything.

"Claire, how are you going to take care of yourself?"

"Jimmy can bring me food."

"But, surely, he can't take care of your bathroom needs," Mom insisted.

"No, of course, not. Beth, the minute I get this thing off me, I will be able to do all that myself."

"With two broken arms? You're going to wipe your bottom with two broken arms?"

"I'll find a way. No nurse."

Mom pursued. "And if you have a problem? What then? Jimmy? Forget about it."

"Of course not Jimmy."

"Well, what, then? Who? When this trial starts, I'm gone. I might make it back for a weekend here and there, but don't count on it."

"Alright, get a fucking nurse."

"Good. Yes," Mom said, breathing a sigh.

"I don't want her living in my apartment. Just daytime, only, okay?"

"What? What if something happens, Claire?"

"Jimmy. He's got a phone. He'll get me help."

"He's upstairs!"

Claire reasoned, "Have him crash on the basement couch for a couple weeks, and by then I'll be fine."

Mom didn't respond for a second, and then she said, "Claire, he's in college. He's got parties and friends. He's out all night sometimes and he's got...dates. It's asking an awful lot of him to give up his nights. Just let me get a nurse."

"Look, Beth, I don't want some person I don't even know living with me 24 hours a day. It's a few weeks. Jimmy can handle it. He can jerk off."

"Claire!"

"You know what I mean."

"Well, you keep saying 'a couple weeks,' 'a few weeks,' but it's going to be at least six."

"I know what the doctor says, Beth. What I mean is in a few weeks, I'll have this brace off and be able to be independent and move around."

Mom nodded. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. No live-in nurse."

"Alright, daytime only."

Mom was in a panic because she was missing jury selection, but she stayed until we got Claire home and set up in the apartment. The nurse came that afternoon. She was a big, short lady, in her fifties. Her name was Jane.

Before Mom left, the nurse asked her if she was sure Claire didn't want a nurse to stay overnight.

"She's sure," Mom said.

"Alrighty, who will be here for Claire?" the nurse asked in her nasally voice.

"Jimmy."

She turned to me, "Have you ever taken care of an injured person before?"

"No."

The nurse looked at Mom. Mom shook her head.

"Alrighty, I'll train you."

Mom left to catch a flight, and I got trained by Nurse Jane.

No visual aids or practical application of skills, this was straight lecture. I learned how to sponge bathe a person. I learned how to remove the immobilizer brace Claire had to wear. I learned how to safely move her. I learned how to protect her casts from moisture. I learned how to administer Claire's meds. I learned how to feed her. I learned how to wipe a pussy. I learned how to wipe an ass. I was glad Mom had already gone.

Nurse Jane left at 9:00pm. I checked in on the wounded.

"Aunt Claire, you need anything?"

She shook her head.

"I'll just be upstairs if you do."

She nodded and I went up, watched a movie and bitched about my situation to friends on the phone.

I fell asleep up there, and I woke up at just after midnight. Aunt Claire was screaming for me.

I ran down and into her room. She was pale and dripping with sweat. I about froze when I saw her.

"Where the fuck were you?" she croaked.

"I fell asleep up there. I'm sorry."

"Fucking useless little shit. Get me some water. Fuck!"

I ran and filled a cup with ice and water and a straw. I raced back and held it while she sipped. Her lips pumped it out and she moaned while she drank. She drained the whole cup—a 32 ouncer.

"Are you alright? Can I do anything?"

She was panting. "It's these pain killers. They fucking suck. Wait." Her fingers extended and clenched on the casts, and then she grimaced. "Oh, fuck me! Fuck!"

"I'll call the nurse."

"Get me better meds, stronger. Oh, shit!"

I called Nurse Jane. She answered on about the eighth ring. I explained what I saw and what Claire wanted.

"Is it constant pain or in waves?" she asked.

"Waves, I think. She's in bad shape."

"Alrighty. Well, I can't get you new medications tonight."

"Please!"

"I can't. But, I can bring her some in the morning. I'll be a little late after picking them up."

"What should I do?"

"You can take her to the emergency room or stay. If you stay, give her water, but don't give her any more of the pink pain pills, alrighty?"

"Can I give her anything at all for the pain?"

"Advil, if you have it, would be fine." I could hear Aunt Claire moaning across the hall for me.

"Okay, thanks." I hung up and ran back to Claire.

"Is she coming? Is she bringing me something better?"she asked.

"No, she's..."

"Fucking cunt! What did she say?"

"She says not to give you any more of the pink ones..."

"No fucking shit, Jimmy!"

"...and to take you to the emergency room if you want. If not, she'll come in the morning with something better. I can give you Advil," I offered.

"Advil? Fucking Advil when my back is going to rip apart?"

"Should I drive you or call an ambulance?"

"No! Fuck! I don't want to move. Get the Advil," she almost screamed.

I did and gave her four. I brought her more ice water.

"Oh, shit. Oh, fuck," she moaned. "Thank you, Jimmy."

"Want me to go now?"

"No! Stay with me, please."

"Okay."

"Jimmy. Water." I fed it to her. The lull in pain lasted about five minutes, and then another wave hit.

"Oh, no. Oh, fuck, no." She moaned, grimacing. I couldn't help but think of how tv shows dramatize women giving birth. This seemed like that.

I felt pretty helpless in the face of her agony, but I decided to try and comfort her. I put a couple of my fingers in her hand, and she gripped them against the cast. It actually really hurt, but I was in no situation to complain. She held my fingers, and I reached up and touched her hair. It was auburn, like Mom's, but straighter. Her hair was wet with perspiration.

When the wave of pain passed, I let her go and got two towels; I put some ice in one. I came back and dabbed her forehead. I blotted around her hair, face, and neck while she laid there without moving or speaking. I put the ice towel on her forehead.

Another surge of pain rose up, and I let her squeeze my fingers. She wailed and cursed. At some point I put my head beside hers—my forehead in the pillow—and I petted her hair. Our ears touched.

"Thank you, Jimmy."

"I wish I could do more for you, Aunt Claire."

"Claire. Just call me Claire."

"Okay."

"Stay with me, Jimmy," she said, and then she asked, "Do you still go by Jimmy?"

"Some people call me that."

"Do you care?"

"No," I said.

"You don't have a nickname or anything?"

Before I could control it, I smiled. But, I tried to hide it by looking down.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing. Forget it."

"No. Tell me. What? You have a nickname?" she asked.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't—it's not appropriate."

"Tell me."

I sighed. "Jaycock."

A burst of laughter erupted from her lips, and then she groaned, "I'm sorry I asked."

Another wave hit, and I held her. When it passed, she asked for more water, and I adjusted the ice towel.

"Who gave it to you? The nickname?" she asked, breathing deeply.

"Brothers at the frat."

She nodded. Then an idea occurred to her. "You're a KU fan, aren't you? The Jayhawks? Is that where it's from?"

"Right, mostly."

"Well, that's not so bad. I've heard worse...wait, what do you mean 'mostly?'"

"It's embarrassing, Claire. Forget it."

"Okay, " she said. "Water, please, Jimmy." I brought it to her lips. She laid there in silence, and then I heard her breathing increase. "Jimmy, grab me."

I did.

"Fuck. Talk to me. It's coming. Tell me something."

"What do you want to hear about?"

"Something. Anything. Jimmy. Oh, fuck. Tell me about Jaycock. Anything." She screamed, and I put my head next to hers, letting her squeeze my fingers. I told her.

"Don't get mad, but they called me that because it's bendy. It...bends up. My...you know. Sorry, if that's gross, Claire. This girl back at school, she said something to one of my brothers one night. Drunk. They made her draw a picture. And they knew about how I liked KU basketball, and someone said 'Jaycock' and that was the beginning of it."

I didn't know how much she heard, but a minute or so later, the groaning stopped and she laid still. "Oh, shit. Water, Jimmy." I gave her some. She laughed. "I'm sorry. I'm not laughing about your—your penis. I'm laughing because I—oh, shit, what would Beth say—because I'm lying here in pain, and you're helping me, and your Mom was right about the nurse, and now I know more about your penis than your own mother."

"It's a pretty fucked up situation, isn't it?" I said, smiling. She laughed and cried in pain and laughed.

We talked and worked through the pain and talked some more. I was surprised to find it was almost four in the morning when I checked the time.

"Jimmy?"

"Yeah."

"I have to pee. Bad."

"Do you want me to carry you to the toilet?"

"No! Shit, no. I don't want to move."

"What should I do?"

"Can you handle this?"

"I think so."

"I don't want to sit in a mess of my own urine until Nurse Jane arrives."

"Right."

"Get something—something throwaway. Cheap plastic. Get two of them."

I hesitated.

"Jimmy, I'll be peeing sideways. A basin type one to catch it all, and another one to make sure it doesn't spray all over the bed down there—to stop it and let it run down to the basin."

I started to run.

"No! Not yet! Stay with me now." We held each other and fought through another round of pain. "Okay," she breathed, "go. I can't hold it through another one of those. Hurry!"

I ran to the kitchen and found two shitty plastic Tupperware bins. I figured they were big enough. I showed them to her when I got back. She nodded.

"Pull down the sheets. Gently."

I did, exposing her very shapely legs.

"My panties, now. Carefully, Jimmy."

I lifted up her gown and saw simple, light blue panties. I slipped my fingers under the straps on her hips, and slid them down. She shaved. I pulled them down and off her feet.

She groaned and spread her legs a little, and she lifted her knees. She panted, and I put the basin container beside her pussy.

"Get the other one. Hurry."

I put the other one inside the basin one, vertically, forming an L.

"Okay. Fuck. I'm going to lift up now. Slide it under me." She stopped. "Jimmy, it will be less messy if you hold me open. Can you?"

I nodded, and she screamed and lifted her ass off the bed a few inches. It was enough.

I slid the container under her and held it with one hand and then, fuck me, I opened up her pussy with the index and middle finger of my other hand.

She was fully exposed and urine blasted out of her. I couldn't believe the spray, but the containers worked, apart from some back splattering on her legs and tummy. She pissed and moaned and pissed more. Her legs trembled.

She went for a long time, and when she finished, she screamed, "Slide it out!"

I let go of her lips and slid the container out just before she let her ass back down.

"Oh, fuck that hurt."

I carefully removed the container and went to the toilet to dump it.

"Jimmy, hurry. It's coming again."

I dumped it and ran back to her. She clenched my fingers and I put my head beside her, but sideways so that I could still see her pussy. Claire had beautiful legs, and I couldn't help but stare at her pussy. She put her head against mine and wailed into my ear, and there was something bizarrely sexual about the entire thing.

I was hard. I tugged at my shirt to make sure it hung over my groin.

When the agony passed, she whispered, "I'm sorry, Jimmy, but thank you."

"It's nothing, Claire."

"Jimmy?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you clean me up?"

I did my best to camouflage the hard on, and then I fetched a warm wash cloth and came back. She didn't say anything as I dabbed and wiped her clean. But, when I was about to get up, she stopped me.

"Jimmy, you've got to get the inside, too."

I nodded. I pulled her lips apart and drug the warm, wet cloth front to back across her pussy and clit a few times.

"That's good. Thank you."

Back in the bathroom, I adjusted my bendy cock, trying to get it pinned to my tummy by my underwear and pants. I let my tee shirt fall over the front, and I walked a little bit hunched over, but not so I looked like an idiot.

I came back and stood beside her. After a few seconds, she said, "Jimmy?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you going to put my panties back on?"

"Oh, shit. Sorry, Claire."

I hunch-walked to the end of the bed, and I picked her panties up off the floor. I think I caught a bit of a smirk on her face when I came up. I tried not to look at her or her pussy as I slid them over her feet and up her legs.

"Be gentle, Jimmy."

I tugged them, alternating sides, until the straps were back in place over her hips.

"They're bunched up underneath. Can you pull them up?"

I slid my hand under her ass, and I pinched the back hem of her panties right in her ass crack, and pulled them the rest of the way up and over her ass. Her ass was soft and firm, and my imagination ran wild.

"The sheets and blankets, too, please."

I lifted them up and over her legs, and then another peak of pain struck, and I held Claire until it passed.

When she could semi-relax again, she said, "Yesterday, I was getting ready for nationals. Today, I can't move and my nephew just helped me piss into a Tupperware container." She laughed and cried, and then she just cried.

I held her, and saw her through another wave.

"Wipe my eyes?" she asked, and I did. She smiled at me. "You've been great, Jimmy."

"Thanks."

"Jimmy?"

"Yeah?"

"You can't tell your Mom about this."

"I won't."

"She'd freak if she knew all you had to do to help me."

"Yeah."

"When she calls, just tell her about the pain, okay?"

"Right."

"Don't tell the nurse, either."

"Right, I won't."

"Okay," she said, ramping up her breathing, "here comes another one."

She got through it, and I held her and I gave her water and I caressed her hair. She got through a bunch more, and it was almost 8:00am.

The doorbell rang, and I said, "That's gotta be her."

I got up and Claire said, "Wait."

I stopped.

"Come close, I want to thank you."

I leaned to her.

"You were terrific." She kissed me on the lips, and sank back on the bed, exhausted.

I ran and let the nurse in, and then I crashed.

Two hours later, Mom called and woke me up, checking in. I took the phone and went down to the basement. Claire was out cold, and at Mom's request, I passed the phone to Nurse Jane.

I listened to the report, and it sounded okay. Jane mentioned the new pain killer and how it was working much better. She told my Mom that Claire had been very complimentary of my help the previous night.

She passed the phone back to me.

"Hey, what's up, Mom?"

"You were up all night with Claire?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you, Jimmy. I'm so sorry. I should have been there."

"It's fine, Mom. I got to know her a little bit better, and she seems good now."

"Well, I appreciate it."

"Things going okay for you?"

"Too early to tell."

"Any chance you'll be home next weekend?"

"Not unless there's an emergency."

"Right," I said, "Hey, Mom, I'm beat. Mind if I cut this short and get some sleep?"

We said our good-byes, but before I could leave, Nurse Jane gave me the new pain killer instructions. Apparently the stuff would make Claire tired and loopy. Given last night, Nurse Jane expected Claire to sleep until her next dose, and then sleep again.

I nodded drowsily and went back to bed.

***

At some point in the afternoon, Nurse Jane was relieved by a colleague. I met her while I was eating. The key difference between this new one and Nurse Jane was the absence of the word "alrighty."

She rehashed many of Jane's instructions while I wolfed down a homemade hoagie and chips.

"Has she woken up, yet?" I asked.

"No."

"She slept through her noon dosage?"

"Uh-huh."

***

At around six, I heard some yelling downstairs. Claire must have woken up in great pain. There was some kind of argument. Once it had settled down, I went to the apartment to visit.

The new nurse was pissed off; I could read it on her face. Claire was out again, so I left.

I came back on duty at nine, Claire wasn't due for meds until midnight, so I watched a movie on the couch downstairs.

Claire called for me before midnight.

"How are you doing?" I asked.

"Shitty."

"Is the pain coming back?"

"Little by little," she said, and then she glanced at me, "Did the nurse say anything?"

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