Forced Love

Hi readers,

I've been posting quite a few stories recently. For the most part, they were stories I had started then my mind went blank on which direction I wanted them to go. This is another one. Nothing really off the wall in this one other than incest, and no one is being actually forced.

In a recent story I posted, I described a young man driving from Texas to Michigan - I was surprised at how many messages I got telling me I mislabeled the roads (there is a highway 75 that runs through Texas btw). Folks, I write erotic stories - not road atlases. There are parts of this story that refer to the Army and Information Technology. I was Air Force, so I don't necessarily know how the Army does things. The IT stuff is way out of my area of expertise, so I suspect I made some errors there too. Don't shoot me over it.

I hope you enjoy this. Don't forget to rate it. I do enjoy your comments.

The next one is called 'Yachting with My Sister' - I think it will be a two or three part post.

Everyone in this story is at least 18.

Forced Love

Jeff Combs was twenty-one and at home for Christmas break during his senior year in college. He was studying information technology. He was a good-looking guy, but more interested in his studies than females. He seldom dated.

It was December 23rd, about eleven pm, when there was a knock on his bedroom door.

"It's open," he said, laying his textbook aside and sitting up in his bed.

The door opened and his sister, Lori, stepped in. She wore her long white fuzzy polyester robe that she referred to as her Teddy Bear robe. Her long red hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Lori was eighteen, a senior in High School, and a knockout, by anyone's standards.

"Whatcha doin'?" she asked.

"Reading. What are you doing?"

"I'm up to no good," she replied, grinning.

"My sweet, innocent, little sister? Gimme a break. You're the family angel."

"I'm not as angelic as you might think."

"To mom and dad, you are. They think you can walk on water without getting your feet wet."

She grinned and walked to him, then pushed him back onto the bed, smiling. "You can fool some of the people...," she said, dropping her robe to the floor and straddling him. Lori was nude.

"Shit! Lori, get up. This isn't funny. What if mom or dad walked in here right now?"

At that moment, the bedroom door opened, and their mother was standing in the doorway. The expression on her face was right out of a horror movie.

"Lori, go to your room. Jeffrey, meet me in the den in five minutes," she snapped, then turned and walked away.

"Fuck, I'm in for it now," Jeff mumbled.

Lori grabbed her robe and put it on, then quickly left the room. Jeff got up and pulled on a pair of sweatpants over the shorts he was wearing. He sat on the side of his bed and buried his face in his hands.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he sighed. Then after a moment, walked downstairs to the den.

He didn't sit. In his father's den, the dictator's lair, as he thought of it, you only sat when instructed to do so. He stood just inside the door with his hands clasped in front of him, his head down, looking at the floor. He knew that even though he personally hadn't done anything wrong, there was going to be hell to pay. His parents walked in a moment later.

His father, Arthur Combs III, walked behind his desk and sat. His mother, Ellen, stepped over and stood beside her husband.

"Look at me, you piece of shit," his father barked.

Jeff looked up at him. His father sat with his hands in front of him with his fingertips touching, as he always did. It was his holier than thou posture. His father's face was beet red. It was usually that color when they faced one another. Their relationship had been strained for many years.

"Don't say a damned word. I don't want to hear anything you have to say. This is the straw that broke the camel's back. You're a goddam pervert. Pack your shit. I want you out of this house in one hour. You're no longer my son. Don't ever come back here. Your mother and I want nothing more to do with you. Is that understood?"

Jeff looked at his mother. She was nodding her agreement.

"Yes, sir," Jeff replied, then turned quietly and left the room.

He returned to his bedroom and dressed, then began packing his things. Taking one last look around the room, he picked up his suitcase and backpack, then headed downstairs. His parents stood in the living room. He didn't look at them. As he opened the front door, his father spoke again.

"You're dead to us. Don't come back here."

Jeff walked out the front door. His father slammed it shut behind him. He got in his car and drove back to campus.

He had gotten a full-ride academic scholarship, so finishing school wouldn't be a problem. He had a part time job that covered his other expenses. His father had refused to help him financially since he had chosen not to pursue a business degree. Joining his father's company and continuing under his thumb was the last thing he wanted. His mother never voiced an opinion in his dealings with his father, she just nodded and went along with whatever he said.

He wouldn't miss either of them. His sister was another story. He loved her. What had happened in his room had surprised him. He and Lori had always been close but only as brother and sister. Nothing sexual had ever taken place between them. He also knew that his father would forbid Lori from contacting him, and that she would comply. Neither Lori nor his mother would dare to sidestep an order from the dictator.

Jeff drove back to the University, stopping twice for coffee during the four-hour drive. He set his things on the floor then quickly fell asleep on his bed.

He awoke to the sound of automatic weapon fire.

"Jesus, can you put on your headset?"

"Fuck you. You aren't even supposed to be here," his roommate, Dean, replied.

"Well, I am here. Put on the headset. Kill whatever you're killing at quietly."

Dean muted the computer and turned to him. "Why are you here?"

"My old man threw me out."

"Want me to go beat his ass for you?" Dean asked.

Jeff chuckled. "No, but thanks for the offer."

"Let me know if you change your mind."

"I think I'm good."

"So, what happened? Did he catch you fucking your mom, or something?"

"Or something."

"What, for Christ's sake?"

"Let's just say it was an issue regarding my sister."

"He caught you fucking your sister?" Dean asked, wide eyed.

"I wasn't fucking anyone. Drop it. Will ya?"

"Fine. Must have been something big. I mean, it is Christmas and all."

Jeff sat up. "Tell me about the deal you have with the Army."

"They're paying for my last two years of school. When I graduate, I become an Army officer and do four years active duty. Why?"

"What are you going to do in the Army?"

"IT, what else would I do?"

"Shoot automatic weapons like you do now," Jeff replied.

"Oh, hell no! Those fuckers use real bullets. On Fortnite, it's all pretend. I have no desire to get shot at by real people."

"Any idea who I could talk to about signing up?"

"You? The rich, whiz kid of the IT program?"

"I'm not rich. That's my ex-old man."

"There's a business card for the recruiter on the student union bulletin board. They're probably off until after Christmas."

"Okay, thanks."

"Are you really considering it?"

"Things have changed. It's an option, I guess."

"Go for it. Maybe we can be roomies in the Army."

"And wake up every morning to your freakin' gunfire? No thanks. I'll pass."

"Your loss. I'm a hell of a roomie."

"Yeah, other than Fortnite, I have no complaints," Jeff replied.

He meant what he had said. Dean was a good friend and roommate. They had shared a room since their freshman year. Dean partied more than Jeff did, occasionally brought a girl home for the night, but they got along well.

Dean left a short time later to spend the holidays with family. Jeff spent Christmas alone. The campus was pretty well deserted.

On Monday, the 27th, Jeff visited the recruiter's office. After talking for about an hour with the recruiter, he had a physical scheduled on Wednesday, and signed his life away for the next four years the following day.

The next few months passed quietly. Over spring break, while everyone else was away partying, Jeff and Dean spent a week with the Army learning to climb over and crawl under obstacles while being yelled at. He actually enjoyed it.

Graduation came in early June, and the following day, he and Dean left for Fort Benning, Georgia for Officer Candidate School. He had heard nothing from his family but did follow his sister on social media. He never reached out to her knowing that if their father found out she would be in the doghouse.

OCS lasted twelve weeks, then he and Dean were sent to Fort Gordon, where they spent the next eight months learning how the Army gathers and uses computer technology for war. Following that, it was back to Bliss for ten weeks of combat training. That was followed by Airborne training, jump school, for another three weeks. Jeff excelled at everything. One week before completion of training they received their first assignments. Dean would be going to Fort Hood, in Texas, with an armored division. Jeff was assigned to the 101st Airborne at Fort Campbell, Kentucky.

During the next three years of active duty, he was deployed three times to combat arenas for six months tours. He saw minimal actual combat and was primarily involved in gathering information about enemy locations, strength, movement, and their communications. Jeff was informed that Dean had been killed when a rocket struck the vehicle he was in.

A few months before his commitment was up, Jeff was recruited by a company that provided surveillance for the federal government. He worked with them for five years before starting his own company, continuing surveillance for private corporations. His company was very successful, and soon, Jeff had a healthy bank account.

Although he had plenty of money, he lived a simple, quiet life. He had a nice apartment in a high rise in Tampa, Florida, and drove a pickup truck. He dated occasionally, but never had been in a committed relationship with anyone. For the most part, he was a loner.

Jeff kept up with what was going on with his family from afar. His father had turned over his company to his sister a few years after her graduation from Harvard business school. His father was now in his second term in the US House of Representatives. He represented the people of Indiana. Jeff chucked at the thought of his father representing anything but himself. His mother, as she always had been, was by his side. More likely, in his shadow. He didn't bother them, and they didn't bother him.

When he walked into his office after lunch one day, his secretary handed him a note.

"She asked you to call today," Cynthia told him.

He looked at the note. All it had was a date, time, and phone number.

"Who is it?"

"She said she's your sister. She wanted your cell number, but since you don't have a sister, I didn't give it to her," Cynthia replied.

"Actually, I do have a sister. I doubt she'd call. I haven't spoken to her in twenty years. Did she leave a name?"

"No, just a phone number."

"Can you check the number and find out where it's from?" he asked.

"Already done. It's a land line. Combs, Inc., in Indianapolis," she replied, smiling, knowing she was a step ahead of him.

"That's probably her then."

"Just out of curiosity, are you related to Arthur Combs?"

"Why?"

"He announced his candidacy for President this morning."

"Oh Christ," he replied, exasperatedly.

"So, you are related?"

"He's my father. You tell no one, understood?"

"My lips are sealed, boss."

"Cindy, I'm serious. He disowned me twenty years ago. I want no one to know we're related."

"It's our secret. Are you going to call your sister?"

"Yeah, in a little while."

"Cool beans," she replied.

"What?"

"Cool beans. Like that's good."

He smiled. "Never heard that before. Is that a thing?"

"Cheech and Chong from the seventies."

"Before my time then?"

"Probably, but it was before mine too. I heard it in a movie last night. Anything else, boss?"

"No, thanks. Keep our secret, please?" he asked.

She smiled and left his office. Jeff sat at his desk and looked at the note. He was tempted to toss it in the trash. 'Why, after twenty years, would Lori call?' he wondered. Then it occurred to him. If his father was running for President, he couldn't have secrets that might dim his spotlight. He went from curious to pissed in a millisecond. His father had put her up to making the call. He stewed over it for the next several minutes, then picked up his cell phone. He began entering the number then stopped. Changing to settings, he turned off caller ID, then finished dialing. It was answered on the first ring.

"Combs Incorporated, this is Miriam, how may I be of assistance," a sweet, but professional voice said.

"I'm returning a call from Lori. This is Jeff."

"Sir, she's in a meeting. If you'll give me your name and direct number, I'll let her know you called."

It pissed him off. "No, don't bother." Jeff ended the call and walked to Cindy's desk. "If my sister calls again tell her I'm in a meeting. Have her leave her cell number."

"Yes, sir. Boss, take a walk, kick the trash can, do something before you blow a fuse."

He took a deep breath, then smiled at her. "Thanks, Cindy. I'm good."

Cindy could read him like a book. He knew it and appreciated how she looked after him. He went back into his office and stood looking out the window as he continued blowing off more steam with each deep breath.

Cindy came in about fifteen minutes later and handed him a note.

"It's her cell. She said you can call anytime, 24/7."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. Boss, I don't know what the issue is, but I can tell it troubles you. Stay calm, cool, and collected. You can handle this," she told him.

"Yes, ma'am," Jeff replied, smiling at her.

Cindy returned the smile and left the room. Jeff continued to look out the window for about another ten minutes before picking up his phone. He entered the number then took another breath before actually placing the call.

"This is Lori," she answered.

He recognized her voice. Just hearing it brought a tear to his eye.

"This is Jeff," he said, very matter of factly.

"Oh, Jeff. It's so good to hear your voice." He could hear a staccato in her speech, as if she were about to cry.

"You too. What's up?" He was pure business.

"I've missed you," she said.

"So, did Mr. Combs, the third, put you up to calling?"

"No, he didn't. Jeff, please don't be pissed at me. I didn't run you off. He did. I tried to tell him what happened. He wouldn't listen to me." She was crying now.

"Lori, I'm sorry. I'm not pissed at you. It's just been a very long time."

"Jeff, I'm going to be in Tampa on Saturday. I'd like to see you."

"Why now?"

"Because you're my brother and I love you. I may not have done anything to show it, but I do love you."

"Where will you be staying?" he asked.

"Marriott at the Airport. My plane arrives at three. Give me an hour to check in. Any time after that. If you'll give me your cell number, I'll text you my room."

"I'll give you the number if you swear not to give it out. I don't want the Combs to have it."

"I swear. I'll even put it under a fake name in my phone."

Hesitantly, he gave her the number. Jeff loved his sister, but after forty years of being under their father's oppressive thumb, he didn't feel he could trust her. He could always get his number changed if needed.

"Jeff, I need to get back into a meeting. I've got about a dozen execs waiting on me."

"No problem. That comes with being the CEO of a big company. I'll see you Saturday."

"I love you, Jeff."

"Uh, you too, Lori."

He ended the call and felt bad about not really returning his sister's sentiment. He thought about it for a moment and realized he hadn't said I love you to anyone in twenty years. Lori was the first, in that time, to say it to him. At forty-two, nearly half his life, there had been no love. 'Sad,' he thought. Jeff wondered if he was even capable of loving and being loved.

He walked to Cindy's desk. "What's my schedule like this afternoon?"

"Nothing pressing until tomorrow at ten."

"I think I'm going to take the afternoon off."

"Will wonders never cease?" she said, smiling.

"Gimme a break. I take time off," he said, seriously.

"I must have you confused with another Jeff Combs. The one I know hasn't taken an afternoon off in...let's see," she said, flipping through the calendar on her desk. "...January seventeenth. Five months ago."

"No. That can't be right."

"Boss, I'm looking at your schedule. I'm a meticulous record keeper," she replied, grinning.

"Cindy, do people like me?"

"Your employees and clients do. Since you don't appear to have a life outside of business, I can't tell you any more than that."

"I have a social life."

"Really?" she asked, furrowing her brow.

"Yes, really."

"Business lunches and dinners aren't social life."

"That's not all I do?"

"I'm all ears," she said.

"Well, I...."

"Yes?"

"Oh, never mind." He started to walk back to his office and stopped, turning to her. She was still smiling. "Am I a people person?"

"I may be stepping over some line here, but you're a very nice businessman. You open doors, hold elevators, say thank you. But when it comes down to the nitty gritty, you're a businessman. I've been your secretary for seven years and today was the first I ever heard of you having any family. You don't know a thing about your employees other than how well they do their jobs. Don't get me wrong. We all like working with you, but we don't know you and you don't know us."

"I'll grant you, I'm private. But I do know about my staff."

"Think so, huh? Am I married?"

"Yes. To Rick, and you have a five-year-old daughter. See there?"

"I'm divorced, for three years. My daughter is nine."

"Oh."

"How about, Leon, your security chief?"

"Former Navy Seal, single, no kids."

"Married for fifteen years and has three kids. You've met at least two of them. Shall I continue?"

"No. You made your point."

"Just FYI, you send birthday cards, anniversary cards, get well cards, flowers, and sympathy cards when needed."

"I do, or you do?"

"You do, with my assistance. I'm a very efficient secretary."

"That you are. Do I pay you well?"

"Define well," she said, seriously.

"Let me rephrase that. Do I pay you what you deserve?"

"Just about. I could be making more elsewhere."

"Why do you stay?"

"I've got a great boss who will one day recognize what an asset I am and give me a promotion and a raise."

"Promotion to what?"

"Personal Assistant. That's what I do anyway."

"Yeah, I guess it is, isn't it?" She nodded. "Let's meet tomorrow morning and sit down to discuss the PA thing. Have numbers for me."

"Eight o'clock, okay?"

"Is this going to be a tough negotiation?"

"Yep," she grinned.

"Make it eight-thirty. That'll give me time for another cup of coffee."

"Eight-thirty tomorrow morning. It's on the schedule. Now, go do something relaxing," she instructed.

"Yes, ma'am."

Jeff went back into his office, grabbed his sport coat and phone then left the office. After starting his truck, he sat there. 'Relaxing,' he thought. 'What do I do that's relaxing?' Coming up with nothing, he drove to the gym. His workouts were always hard. He was exhausted by the time he finished. Relaxing? No, but it cleared the clutter in his mind for a while.

The negotiations with Cindy weren't as tough as he expected. He had checked salaries in the area for people doing comparable work and saw that he was paying her fifteen thousand less than the average. She was amazing and certainly deserved to be compensated for it. She left his office with a new title and a thirty-thousand dollar raise. They were both happy with that.