The Girl Next Door

"I want the lights out, Brandon," she whispered as we finished our kiss on my bed.

I rolled over and switched the lamp off. It took a few moments for our eyes to adjust in the dark but we could make out our shapes. We undressed and slipped into bed. She sidled up to me and wrapped herself around me. I held her and slowly kissed her.

Gently and tentatively, she reached down to my crotch and grasped my cock in her small hand. It responded and blood surged into my member, hardening. It had been a long time since someone else had touched me there.

I let her lead. She would be able to take things as fast or slowly as she felt comfortable. I became harder and a groan escaped my surprised mouth. Up and down she stroked and soon I was panting in short breaths.

"If you don't stop that..." I said. "I'm going to cum!"

She pulled her hand off of me before the feelings overwhelmed me and then lay back and slowly spread her legs. Touching her down there in her crotch I slowly worked her into a lather. She was well lubricated by the time she started to squirm. No words or sound came from her mouth.

I looked at her one final time in question and she nodded. She was ready for me.

I crawled on top of her, careful not to crush her, and my cock slowly found her hole. She was tight and it took me some time to slowly work myself in. She grunted and I hesitated.

"No, don't stop," she told me. She gave me a reassuring smile.

Soon I was all the way in her. We stayed like that for a long time and then I slowly started to stroke within in. She still was quiet and I asked her again if she was ok. She nodded yes.

It was only a short time later that I came deep within her. Finished I rolled off her and held her. She hadn't cum. I didn't expect that she would. Now she felt closer to me. Her body had taken on a confidence that she was now pulling her weight around the household. She had given me the one thing that she still owned; herself.

"I love you, I love you, I love you!" she cried into my chest. Our juices were mixed together as she seemed to fall asleep. I held her and stayed awake.

I must have fallen asleep at some point in the night because Melanie woke me up with a loving kiss. She kissed me all over my face and chest as I tried to focus my eyes and clean out the gunk that had glued my eyes shut.

I took her into my embrace and we lay there for a long time while I woke up and tried to sort out my emotions. We had crossed a boundary, and I found that I was not having a hard time thinking of our future together in this new relationship.

I still felt like a heel, but Melanie seemed to be much better now. She was more sure of herself and there began an understanding of each of our roles now that we had consummated the relationship. She was never my daughter, never my friend, only my charge, and because of that she had been unsure as to how to relate to me in any other way than as her protector.

Now with my new role as her lover, she began to blossom. The insecurity started to leave, and she became a little more independent. Now she could be in another room away from me. She still didn't go out alone, but I sensed that our new relationship had a healing effect on her.

A week passed by and Melanie finally felt comfortable having sex with me with the lights on. I drank in her body while she explored mine. There were faint scars over her body but much of it had disappeared. The carved writing in her belly had all but faded and I marveled at the healing powers of young people.

Our lovemaking started to become more liberating and daring. Melanie was starting to become insatiable. We quickly graduated from the bedroom to the living room to all the rooms in the house. It seemed that she was adamant in purging herself with sex.

I started to try to encourage her to go outside by herself. She seemed very reluctant to do this but slowly I was able to get her to go out and check the mail, get the newspaper and actually be comfortable in the front yard. The neighbors still stared at her; we would never really escape her past, our past, but she seemed less bothered by it.

The sessions with the shrink continued. I had been able to work out a flexible work schedule with my company and was still shuttling Melanie back and forth from the doctor's office. My life was completely consumed with Melanie. Even when I was away from her, my thoughts always drifted towards her and our evolving relationship. The hurt little girl was slowly being replaced by a sultry sexy woman, my woman, my charge, that was to be protected and loved by me.

Christmas came and I decided to treat Melanie to a little vacation up in the mountains. The company had a cabin that could be reserved at a good deal by employees and I managed to snag it for the week of Christmas. We would go skiing up there and play in the snow and get away from the town and the house. I was in much need of a break from the hectic schedule I was in.

Melanie was thrilled and devoted her time on planning for the trip. She investigated all the places we could visit up there and had set about rummaging through the garage for all the winter items, trying to find stuff left behind by my ex-wife and son that could be reused from our trip. Money was tight and she did her best to not spend any more money than what was absolutely needed.

The drive up took many hours and as we went farther away from our town, Melanie became more and more comfortable. I hadn't realized how much living in the same town, the same neighborhood had affected her. As we escaped that place, Melanie seemed to be almost normal.

We had a lot of fun that week, but something that became a bit disturbing was Melanie's insistence that I become more forceful with her during our lovemaking. At first it was her exclaiming to me to fuck her harder. Then it slowly morphed to asking me to pin her hands down while I took her.

By the end of the week she was begging me to tie her up and use her. I balked at first, but she was very persuasive as she knelt before me and sucked my cock to hardness, teasing me and speaking to me about how hot it would be to be helpless before me, the one person she trusted.

I tied her loosely to the bed, there was enough slack in the knots so that she could escape if she wanted to. At first she wanted the rope tighter, she didn't want to escape, but I was firm. I didn't want to bring up bad memories for her and wanted her to feel a little control.

She sighed and gave in and I went to work seducing my captive. She kept urging me to tease her, to taunt her and to make her beg for release. I kept her on edge for a long time and when I finally pushed her over the edge, she enjoyed it but afterwards she seemed distant and let down.

"What's wrong, my love?" I asked her after untying her and spooning with her on the bed.

She was quiet for the longest time.

"You gave in to me too easily," she finally muttered.

"I did?"

She turned to face me, still in my arms.

"I'm different from others, Brandon," she said. "I love you, but I need you to control me, to take me, to hurt me.

She said the last part in almost a whisper. She couldn't look me in the eyes.

"Hurt you? I could never do that," I exclaimed.

I tried pulling away but she gripped me tighter.

"Brandon, I'm fucked up, but I love you. I have these needs and you are the only person I trust to give me these needs."

A tear tickled down her face.

My eyes started to burn to.

"Mel, I love you too, but I don't think I can ever get the picture of you in that basement out of my head. I could never do something like that to you. It would kill me. It hurts just thinking about that."

We cried together as we stopped speaking and eventually went to sleep. Tomorrow we would be headed home and I realized that we had not solved anything. I thought she was getting better. Now I wondered if she would ever be whole again.

Over the next few months, Melanie slowly brought me along into her fantasy play. Always I was the aggressor, always I was to take control away from her. Each session became more and more aggressive and harsh. She begged me to start calling her names, like cunt and dirty whore. Always she would orgasm. There were times when we had regular, vanilla as she liked to call it, sex. She enjoyed that as well, but to me it seemed like she was just humoring me. There was a wandering fondness for the other sessions that I would see in her eyes after our regular sex.

Therapy sessions seemed to be at a standstill. I spoke with the shrink about this new turn of events and she seemed to think it was a good thing that Melanie was working out these feelings with someone she trusted. Melanie knew that I would never do anything to harm her so enacting these sessions was a safe way for Melanie to take back control over her sexuality.

I pointed out to the shrink that Melanie was becoming more and more enamored by the harsh sex sessions and less enthusiastic with the tender lovemaking. It had me worried. I wasn't sure if I could give Melanie what she wanted or needed.

"Brandon, where do you see this relationship going?" the therapist asked.

"I don't know," I admitted. I never really stopped to think about it. Everything was a reaction to what had happened to Melanie since that day of discovery.

"You've put your entire life on hold. You've lost your wife and your kid for her, to take care of her."

I nodded.

"Maybe it's time for you to reclaim your life. Melanie might be ready to leave and spread her wings. It might just be that you have done as much as you can but now it's time to let go."

I bristled at that comment and the session ended shortly afterwards.

The next week while Melanie was tied up to the bed she asked me to hit her.

"On my ass, give me a spank, slap your bitch!" she cried out.

I froze.

"Do it!"

I got off her and untied her. "I can't do that. I can't hurt you."

She had a confused look on her face. I started crying.

"I swore I would protect you Mel. What you're doing is killing me. I'm becoming like them."

I planted my face into my hands. I would not be like them - like her brutal Aunt and cousins. I would protect her. Save her. Keep her safe.

Melanie got dressed and left the room. Perhaps I had given her all that I could. Maybe it was time for her to spread her wings. I knew that I could never do to her what she now wanted. I could never hit her. It was hard enough to tie her up and fuck her. I had purposely never tied her in the position that I had found her in that basement. I just couldn't get over that image of that broken girl. Now it was killing me to see her revert back to that girl.

Then next few days were tense. Melanie spoke few words and finally I sat her down to speak with her.

"I don't understand what it is that you are looking for, Mel."

She said nothing.

"I gave you all of the love and compassion I have, but it doesn't seem to be enough. This new phase you are in, this hurting phase, I can't do it, I can't hurt you. It hurts me so much to see this."

She started crying. "I'm all fucked up, I don't know why I want this," she said.

"I don't know either, Mel. But all I can tell you is that I love you, but I can't do this."

She nodded sadly.

We went to bed holding each other. No sex. Just tenderness.

I went off to work the next day and when I came home, she was gone.

There was no note. Her clothes were gone, and the money for groceries and other sundries was taken as well. I waited for her for a week. Every phone call I grabbed on the first ring. I wandered the streets in search of her. She knew no one. I had no idea where to look. I filed a police report and they did their best to follow up but she had vanished.

I slept little. My days and nights filled with "What ifs" bouncing around in my mind.

'What if I had been able to hit her, hurt her?'

'What if I hadn't pushed her?'

'What if I kept quiet?'

Emotionally, I was spent. After that first week I wandered around like a zombie. I had failed her. Now she had left me because I could not give her what she needed. I had told her I would be there for her and now I had abandoned her.

The only thing that saved me was work. I poured all my energy into work and was able to finally get out of the financial hole I had been in since Melanie had come to stay with me. After the first month I had given up hope that Melanie would ever be back. She was broken when I had found her in that basement, and all the work the doctors and I had done on her could not put her back together again.

There were times when I was angry with her. There were times when I was angry with myself. I questioned whether I had done the right thing in taking responsibility for her. I could have had my life back with my wife and son. Now they were gone as well. I was left with nothing and no one.

My co-workers urged me to go out and socialize. I did a few times but really I was not ready to open up again. Melanie and my divorce had taken such an emotional toll on me that I was content with feeling numb, with feeling nothing.

A few of the women at work flirted with me in the hopes that they could fix me. I was now seen as broken as well. My problem in their eyes was that I cared too much. To them that was a good problem for a man to have. They all knew how much energy and devotion that I spent both on my wife and on Melanie. I guess they thought that I was more man that others. Interesting since I felt like less of a man. I had lost my family and Melanie. Twice a failure and half a man.

It was six months later on a sunny evening that I came across Melanie waiting at my doorstep when I pulled in from work. At first I didn't recognize her. She had chopped her hair short and it was dyed black. She seemed a little thinner than before and even though it was warm outside she was huddled on the front step like she was cold.

When I recognized her I stopped the car and jumped out and ran to her. She stood up and hugged me. Tears were streaming down both our eyes as I ushered her into the house. A thousand questions came up as I wanted to know everything that had happened, where did she go, how was she, etc.

She told me she was fine. I made some coffee and we sat at the kitchen table.

After a while she spoke.

"I didn't think you would be happy to see me," she said.

"Don't be silly, why would you think that?"

"After our last talk... I thought you didn't love me anymore."

I was taken aback. "Why would you ever think that?"

She looked down into her coffee cup.

"I needed things... things you didn't want to give me."

I stood up and went over to her and knelt before her and took her in my arms.

"Honey, I couldn't give you those things. I've given you everything I could give you, I was trying to be honest with you, what you wanted was something I could not do to you."

We sat there for some time, both of us holding each other, afraid to let the other go.

"You're welcome to stay here if you like," I finally said. She nodded and thanked me.

That evening, she went to sleep in her old room, while I slept in my empty bed. We would have to talk, and soon. My life had been on hold for too long. I was getting tired of this. I needed closure. One way or another I needed to know where I stood with Melanie. She would have to know it as well.

I took the next day off, calling in sick and telling my boss that Melanie had returned and we needed to settle some things. He was understanding and wished me luck.

When Melanie came downstairs I had breakfast ready and we sat and ate together. "I missed this," she said as she dug into the pancakes. We finished breakfast and I sat her on the couch.

"Mel, we need to talk, we need to figure out what is going to happen with us. Is there an us?"

She sighed.

"I don't know where you went these past six months, but every day I wondered about you, worried about you, and asked myself whether I would ever see you again. Maybe you can tell me what happened?"

She nodded.

"After you refused to hurt me, I was confused. Something inside kept pushing me to be more and more wild. I hated what my Aunt did to me, but the actual acts themselves were exciting. I realized that I was starting to crave them again. I thought that what those acts were was true sex. What we had was love but I wanted more, I started to crave to be taken. While you were away at work, I went on the internet and started reading up on sex and other acts. I started to get interested in harder sex. Bondage really turned me on and when you tied me up it was different from when my Aunt did it."

She adjusted herself and continued.

"What she did to me, I had no say in; what I wanted you to do to me, was something I could control. I trusted you and with my urges I wanted to explore some of the feelings I had when my Aunt and my cousins did things to me. Not all of it was bad, some of it I enjoyed."

I was shocked to hear that she enjoyed what her Aunt and cousins did to her.

"The idea of being helpless and having someone take advantage over me, it turns me on. But what they did to me was too much. There was no love, no compassion. I was a thing. That turned me on, but when there was no one on the other end that cared for me, it was torture. They hurt me, they tortured me, and some of the acts were too much. I was forced and had no say. But with you, I felt your love, I felt your compassion, I trusted you. I wanted to let loose and give you myself. You have given me everything, you have lost your life to me, and I wanted to give you mine in return."

She was fighting back the tears and her voice quaked as she finished. I hugged her and kissed her on the nose. "I never asked anything of you," I said.

She smacked me in the chest. "That's just it, Brandon. You never asked me for anything. You gave and gave and gave and all I did was take. It wasn't a fair exchange."

"You needed me, you needed help," I returned.

"I did in the beginning, but somewhere along the line you protected me too much. You isolated me from everything. You did everything and I had nothing. I had no other place to go, no other friends to see, I was as much a prisoner in your house as I was in my Aunts."

I recoiled at that statement. I let her go and anger surged through me.

"How dare you accuse me," I started. My voice rose as the months, no make that years of frustration boiled out of me.

"You were not ready for others, you didn't want to leave the house, you latched onto me. What was I supposed to do?"

Melanie got up and tried to hug me; she tried to deflate the issue.

"You did everything. You are not my Aunt. I am not comparing what she did to me, to what happened to us."

I allowed her to hug me, but I was still angry. Changing tactics I snapped at her. "Where have you been these past six months?"

She was started by the venom in my voice.

"All I did for you, I gave you my heart and my life and you left me, with no warning, no word, no letter, nothing. I didn't know if you were still alive."

She sat me down again and held my hands.

"I needed to leave, to figure things out for myself. I was feeling confused and you were right, you couldn't give me what I needed or wanted at the time. I thought you could but you did not have it in you."

That hurt and I struck back.

"I gave you everything but I wouldn't hurt you. So you left me. That's fucked up Mel."

She had never heard me swear and she blushed.

"I met someone over the internet. At first they were able to talk to me about what I was feeling. They encouraged me to continue to try to get you to go along with my desires. When it became clear you could not do those things to me, they offered to help me."

I did not like where this was going.

"Mel..." I started but she continued.