you find yourself staring at your older sibling's hands a lot lately. fixated on how they hold the steering wheel, how they flex and move while making you breakfast, the agility of their fingers playing guitar.. you're old enough now to know you're shouldn't to think about them the way you do, but you can't help it. those hands raised you, comforted you, loved you. you don't want any other hands on you.. and you've tried. gone out on dates with kids your age, fumbled around in the dark backseat of their mom's car and waited for the familiar flipping feeling in your stomach that never came.
you've been boring a hole into their hand lying between you, which has been occasionally & lazily tapping a rhythm on their thigh as they drive you home from school. before you realize what you're doing you reach out and grab it with both of yours and hold it. they don't have time to react to your strange cradling of their hand before you ask, half dazed, "do you remember when I was a kid how I'd suck my thumb?" they're confused now, eyes flitting between your face and their hand in yours and the road ahead. "uh, sure I do kiddo. why? what-" but they stop short when you take their thumb into your mouth. for a minute there is silence as you move your soft, eager tongue over their knuckle, desperately sucking.
a sharp, "what the fuck is your problem?" pulls you out of your stupor. they yank their thumb from your mouth, spit trailing through the space between you and it, and turn the steering wheel hard to pull over on a side road. your face is hot as they berate you, "what were you thinking? do you know how much trouble I'd be in if we hit something? mom and dad would kill me if we both died in a car crash just because you're a little pervert." you wanted to bite back and defend yourself, but they're already out of the car and slamming their door. you watch them kick the wheel and then approach your door, pulling it open. "get out. get out now." they instruct, but they don't wait for you to move, just grab your arm roughly and yank you out of the car as well. you're marched out to the trees that separate the little road the car is parked on from a playground on the other side... you used to hide in this wooded patch together when you were little and didn't want to go home from the park yet. you wonder if they're going to leave you here and make you walk home.
they stop some paces into the trees and turn to you again, "why would you do that? it's my job to take care of you, stupid fucking kid. do you know how distracting your mouth is?"
the last bit hits you like a brick. "wait, what-"
"no. no shut up. shut up. my turn." they push you down on your knees in front of them and you can feel the cool dampness of the dirt and grass under you start to soak through the thin fabric of your tights. under other circumstances, you'd probably complain that it will leave an obvious and unexplainable stain on your knees, maybe even smack them for getting you dirty. but you don't really care to protest right now, because they're softly trailing their fingers over your lips and guiding your mouth open and it feels surprisingly serene to look up at them from down there, even as they continue to berate you. "don't ever fucking do that again," they're rubbing their index finger over your tongue slowly, not letting you close your mouth. "it's my job to keep you safe" they're pushing two in now, prodding down your throat and pulling your tongue between them. drool is starting to drip down your chin. "if you need it that bad all you had to do was ask, you dumb slut. but you couldn't even manage that could you? your little brain turned off, huh? so needy for something in your mouth that you forget about consequences?" you try to protest, but the noise comes out pathetic and garbled with your mouth obstructed. they push a third finger past your lips now and start a punishing rhythm in and out, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag. "I know you think you're really grown up, fooling around with the idiots in your class, but you're out of your depth here, kiddo. I don't care about getting off. this is a lesson. I know what I'm doing. you clearly don't. but that's okay, I can teach you. I'm patient, and I've already waited a long time for you." they pull their drool covered fingers from your mouth and slap you, hard. it catches you by surprise, stinging and sticky. you cough and inhale raggedly now that their assault on your throat has ended as they smear the drool from your chin over your cheeks and lips. when you've caught your breath, they grab your jaw firmly with their spit covered hand and meet your eyes, smiling widely.
"good job, kiddo!" they say in a tone so sweet it makes you uneasy. "that's what happens when you bite off more than you can chew! you choke."
theartofmadeline
prguitarman
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origamiaround
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