SHE belongs to HIM

The soft breeze blew gently against fiery silken tresses. The stirring of her long locks tickled her side and she moved, brushing at the disturbance without opening her eyes. She'd been lying out there for a while, enjoying the heat of the sun against her long limbs and the wonder of being stationary without having anyone harping at her.

The silence was almost a friend. Long lost and often sought, it shuddered through the clearing making her realize that the passing of time was as swift as the water rushing across the smooth pebbles in the brook. Rising seemed almost impossible, her limbs lethargic and heavy but she managed, leaning down to pick up her shawl. She used the well-worn piece of fabric to cover her head, hiding her pink cheeks and bright eyes.

"There you are!"

Kinlye glanced up, little moved by the harsh voice. She barely acknowledged the man until he grabbed her arm.

"Momma's been calling for you for over an hour." His voice was an angry growl, his hand rough against her skin, digging into her flesh with little care of how he hurt her. "Where have you been?"

"What business is it of yours?" Kinlye snapped, regretting her hasty words when his grip tightened even more.

"It is my business, especially if you were causing trouble again. Don't think Momma doesn't know of the way you flit back and forth between the grocer and the baker. I've seen the eyes you make at them, shameless and disgusting it is."

"I've never..." she began, only to be interrupted.

"Don't you even think of trying your lies out on me," he hissed. "I know what lies inside of you, what sins you will commit. I know of your plans."

Kinlye shrugged, pulling against his grip. When he got this wound up, it was almost impossible to calm him down. "Let me go." She stood her ground, not allowing herself to be dragged further.

"Slut. Harlot," he cursed softly, his eyes on the people passing around them now. "If you do not move on your own volition then I shall have to let the good people of the town know of your wickedness. Then they can help me move you."

"Why Daniel?" she cried suddenly, knowing he wasn't bluffing. "Why do you treat me with such disgust and hatred?

I'm your only sister."

"Look to yourself for the answer, Kinlye," Daniel growled, shaking her. "You look the part of town slattern; you open your thighs for any man who has the price. But not your brother, no, I'm not even allowed to look."

"I've ... I've never," she said, grabbing his arms to slow the shaking he was giving her. "I've never so much as kissed a man," she moaned.

"Lies," Daniel cried again. "I've heard the men speak of you, I've heard them tote on about their explicit affairs with you and how much you like it. Only a slut would allow herself to be passed around in such away.

"They lie!" Kinlye dug her feet in and refused to move an inch. "I've never lain with a man, Daniel. I wouldn't lie to you about that." She stared up and into her brother's expressive face, seeing the doubt there. "What will it take for you to believe me?"

Daniel smiled, his lips twitching as she said the exact words he'd been waiting to hear. He paused for just a moment before he lifted her bodily out of the way of the foot traffic around them and into a doorway that was quiet and semiprivate. "You can gift me with your veil of innocence," he said softly and in her ear. "Let me be the first and then I will know you're not the slut others have been calling you."

"B-but ... but you are my b-brother. It is a sin." Kinlye shook her head emphatically, her hands clasping each other and wringing under the cover of her shawl. "We would be damned."

"Who'll know besides the two of us? I don't plan to tell." Daniel twisted so that she was trapped between him and the door, his fingers pulling at her shawl. "Come on, Kinlye; prove your innocence to me. Make me believe."

"No, Daniel. Stop it!" Kinlye tried to make herself a piece of the wooden paneling behind her, slapping at Daniel's hands when he wouldn't leave her be. "What would Momma say?"

Daniel dug his hand in the heavy hair at the nape of her neck, holding her face still so that he could find her lips. "She would say that it was about time," he rasped. Then his mouth came down hard upon the softness of hers and she squealed in fright and pain even as she fought to turn her head away.

His lips were hard and wet. They seemed to encompass the lower half of her face, leaving it wet with his drool. His hand was torturous, grabbing a fist full of her hair and holding her still, yanking, even more, when his tongue pushed against her lips, trying to find a way inside.

Kinlye whimpered at the pain, her hands in fists pushing against his chest. But he seemed like a boulder, unmovable, impenetrable, and unwilling to hear her cries. His other hand ran down her body, pinching and probing at her flesh. He thrust that hand down the back of her skirt, his fingers moving over the softness of her buttocks even as she screamed again.