Author's note:
This is, in all its seven parts and their many chapters, one very,
very
long story. If long stories bother you, I suggest you read something else.
No part of this story is written so as to stand on its own. I strongly suggest that you start with
the beginning of Part 1
and read sequentially—giving up at any point you choose, of course.
All sexual activity portrayed anywhere in this story involves only people at least eighteen years old.
This entire story is posted only on literotica.com. Any other public posting without my permission in writing is a violation of my copyright.
Friday morning, it was before the alarm was due to go off, but I got up and hurried off to the bathroom. When I came back, Ellen was awake and hurried off too. We made love, and then lay there together talking until the alarm.
She asked me whether I thought I was over it, and I said, "Mostly, anyway. I hope. I'm afraid I still kind of feel 'an emotion of no-enthusiasm toward any arisement.'"
"You do realize that you were pretty rude for someone who had just been given a gift like that, don't you?"
I sighed. "You're right, of course. And I knew it at the time, even. I'll have to apologize."
"Can you say anything about why this happens so easily?"
"I don't know. Maybe. But we'd better get ready to run, now."
"You're sure you're OK? Phil, I love you, and this pattern worries me a lot."
"For this time, I think so. You're right, we need to talk and see whether we can't figure something out. And it worries me, too."
"We have a few minutes yet. The alarm was set to give us time for sex, and we did that already. Unless you're ready enough that it won't take too long, this soon." And, well, it seemed I was.
Afterward, we got dressed and went downstairs. Kelly was in the bathroom, and we each used it quickly when she emerged. As we went out, Kelly gave me a hug, and then hugged Ellen. "Phil, are you OK? You kind of scared me last night," she said.
"I think so. Ellen and I still need to talk, and I owe everyone an apology. I'm sorry. I don't understand why this happens, especially when what triggers it is good. From the way Ellen said things, I think she may have ideas she wants to talk to me about. I hope she has some insight."
Ellen looked really surprised, and then said, "You're absolutely right about that. We'll talk later, though, not now." We all headed off, Ellen quickly leaving Kelly and me behind.
"Do you want to talk to me? I don't have any insights, I'm afraid. You've got Ellen as a shoulder to cry on, and she must have helped, but I'm—I'm more than willing to listen, if talking about it will help. Otherwise, we can talk about anything you'd rather."
"I think I need to talk about other things. Some might touch on this, I guess. But thank you, really.
"I'm pretty sure most of what Uncle John said about Sam was new to you. And I referred to it last night, so I may as well tell you that the gang rape Ellen mentioned was what Sam was involved in. She helped them plan it, having conceived that she had grounds to resent the victim. She got taken and gang-raped herself as a result, and what struck her about it was that she had brought that on herself, but that the other girl hadn't done anything to deserve what happened.
"And somehow that insight brought her, immediately, to repentance for that particular wrong she had done, repentance with great sorrow. The victim—the other victim—had to untie Sam and take off her gag. She said Sam hadn't been crying from being raped, the way she had, but that Sam was crying by the time she finished saying that she was guilty and that she was sorry for what she had done. I don't know how much of the rest was immediate. But after those—um. I don't willingly use the kind of language, name-calling, that comes to me. After the rapists made their second attempt and were caught in the act, and after the trial about a week later, then a few days after that she came to me.
"I hadn't told you, but I mentioned it in saying what I was thankful for. For more than three years, Sam had made it a mission of hers to make my life miserable, and I'm not exaggerating at all when I say that. It was flagrant enough that every single one of the four hundred plus in our class at least knew that she was always after me for no reason, and some of them saw a lot of it. But—I'm still going to leave out details here. But for complicated reasons, she very suddenly was faced with the fact that she was doing it because she had fallen in love with me, and resented that. If you ever meet her, you can ask her about that part if you want, and she's likely to tell you.
"But anyway, the very next night after that, there were the rapes, and she kind of fell apart, and it showed. She was unnaturally quiet, and not entirely functional. She spoke politely and respectfully to everyone, when she had to speak. A couple of times in class, one of the teachers or another told her to respond to something I said, and she was polite and respectful even to me.
"So anyway, after the trial, she came to me, at supper, when I was sitting with friends and surrounded by lots of other people at nearby tables. And she politely asked whether she could speak with me. When I asked where she wanted to go to talk, she said that we would have to arrange later to talk about things we needed to say in private, but that right then she had something to say that others should hear as well. And she confessed at some length what she had done to me for three years, saying she had known all along that it was wrong but not cared. She said very clearly that it was wrong, that it had hurt me and that she had intended it to hurt me, and that she couldn't do anything to take that back. She said that all she could do was say that she truly was sorry and ask me to forgive her. And I did. She was crying as she finished up.
"I was very nearly in tears myself. Maybe I really was in tears. But where, with anyone else, I would have hugged her and tried to comfort her, I had to struggle to make myself go to her and take her hands in mine. I had told her many times, that if she would come to me and honestly discuss whatever she had against me, I would honestly discuss it with her. And I had longed for this.
"When we did get together to talk, I confessed my own hardness of heart, and asked to offer her the hug at that point. And I was having to force myself, and I couldn't seem to hold her more than half a minute or so before I was stepping back. Anyway. We agreed that I had forgiven her, completely, and that she understood that my difficulty in any kind of intimate contact with her wasn't deliberate. It hurt her, though.
"And things got weirder. I know I told you that the school devoted a whole week, full time, to hands-on sex ed. Anyway, Sam and I were assigned to each other. And I just plain couldn't respond to her, sexually. Physically just dead in that department. And Sam is beautiful, and I admired her tremendously for the courage she had been showing.
"I did my best for her. Um. Ignoring all the details: my instructor came up with something that broke through my problems, and from there on we had quite a week.
"Anyway, you'd heard enough about this that I thought you should hear enough more to understand it a little."
Ellen had come up behind us and slowed down, as we had taken an extra lap while I told this. She said, "Boy, if I'm not with you, you always dump too much information out." But she was smiling. She went on, as we all slowed to a walk, "Did he ever get to the reason he should have had for saying this? He had wanted so much for Sam to stop tormenting him, but when she did, he kind of fell apart himself. He was in a fog for a week or more. He really needs to figure out why he does this and how to stop. I have ideas, but we need to talk some. A lot, in fact, I'm afraid."
We went into the house. I told Kelly, "You'd better have first go at the bathroom again," and Ellen and I headed upstairs. We didn't make love, or do anything that might lead to it. We sat down, looking at each other.
I said, "One part of it, and I don't see any way of dealing with it, is just that serious surprises bother me. I feel like the rug has been jerked out from under me and I'm falling, and I can't recover. And I need to tell them all that, and apologize, because of course that's going to happen and we all have to face it. But I don't understand why it bothers me so much more than it does other people."
Ellen looked at me with her face full of concern for me. "Phil, enough of your surprises, ones I've seen, have been really unpleasant that it's not all that surprising to me. And I can see that this is a factor in unsettling you, even when the surprise is good.