Final Fantasy The Silent Star Ch 1

Chapter 1 out of 104: Home so soon…

In loving (ok, just 'fond') memory of Nycroft

* * * * *

Hi there.

I'm Morton Andlehomin.

My friends call me Morty. Or, when they're in a bad mood, Moriarty. It's a purely complimentary nickname, though. Ok, some people say I sometimes have a little tiny sadistic streak, but I'm never that bad.

As this sordid story opens, I had just spent six years in France as part of a foreign exchange student program. I hat left home at the tender age of seventeen, which means—

Holy smoke, was I twenty-three already?

I sure didn't look it.

I still look like a kid.

I still have the little round face, the huge brown eyes, the short black hair that's always plastered down to my head like it was wet… I know I always wanted to look young, but at five foot six, I look practically prepubescent!

I've never thought of myself as particularly attractive, but I must be, because those French girls were all over me. I guess it's true. They really do love a baby face. But you know what's really strange? Out of all 8 of my classmates, I was the only one who never slept with any of those girls more than once. They were surprised, saying that they 'hadn't thought me the type'. At the time, I hadn't known what they meant. But that's not important.

At the start of this story, I had just scheduled a plane ride back home to my family's quiet Cincinnati suburb to see my family for the first time in six years.

We had been expecting this for months, and we were all pretty excited about it. Especially little Natalie. She always got the giggles whenever I called her 'Naddie' (my pet name for her since she was six) over the phone.

And this was one of the reasons that, well, I sorta forgot that she wasn't eleven anymore. That she was bound to have aged, too, since I saw her last. She would be what, seventeen now?

Then, the slight mix-up with the airport computer happened, and I was kicked off my flight two weeks in advance.

When I got the letter explaining this, I was angry. I called up the airport and got into a phone argument with an airline clerk who spoke little English. I'd learned to speak French pretty well over there, but for some reason this woman I was talking to insisted on trying to speak English, even though she was failing miserably.

It ended with me hanging up the phone in disgust and driving over there myself in the middle of the night. Eventually, I got them to validate my tickets again, but when I got them back, I noticed they were new ones, for a different flight. And my departure date had been bumped to a week earlier than the previous tickets. This meant I left the very next night.

I considered going back, but since I was already packed (I had been for a week already due to my excitement), and I was already so sick of arguing with those airline people, I decided to avoid making another scene.

The next day, I checked out of my hotel at the crack of dawn. After a few hurried good-byes and jokes with my classmates, I slipped away and spent the day pacing up and down in the airport terminal.

All through that time, I was so busy worrying about whether or not I was going to be able to get on the flight that I had no time to worry about anything else.

After about fourteen hours, it finally came time to board my flight.

And on the fourteen-hour flight back home, I had all the time in the world to worry about how things had changed.

I was twenty-three now, and Natalie would be either just before or just after her eighteenth birthday… What if we didn't get along anymore? What if… etc. etc…

And there was a whole mess of worries as to what my mom's cousin Jin-ka had done to them in my absence. I'll explain that one later.

I drove those out of my mind, to be replaced by worrying about my dad and what he would think of the sort of person I had become. What if he didn't approve of me? What if mom didn't approve of me? Worse still, what if Naddie didn't? She had always lionized me before I left, but she was older now. More independent now. She'd probably expected me to come home a learned, hyper-intelligent, polylingual, suave, well-read hero. And I would be returning a bilingual, clumsy, semi-intelligent wastrel. She was bound to be disappointed in me. They were all bound to be disappointed in me. And Jin-ka…

My blood ran cold as I suddenly thought of Jin-ka.

I shouldn't even let him know I was back in America. Oh, the ribbing I would take from him and all his henchmen if they knew I had fallen an inch short of the boasts I had made about how I was going to 'hit it big' over there…

How was I going to get anywhere near my old neighborhood without his knowing? Oh boy, this was going to be tough…

After the remaining thirteen hours, fifty-nine minutes, and thirty seconds of similar thinking, nail biting, and coming up with a new problem every four seconds (I think I slept a few hours, but I'm not sure), I finally arrived back in good old Cincinnati.

As I drove north from the Cincinnati airport, I neared NIKO territory.

Our town used to be separate, but as Cincinnati grew, we sort of got absorbed into the suburbs.

Now, of course, NIKO owns everything here, and Jin-ka is their local commander. He runs this place with an iron grip, and it would be difficult to go anywhere here without alerting him.

I stopped for coffee on the edge of Jin-ka territory, and as I was cruising around, deliberately avoiding heading into it, I decided to go to the old park. That was within sight of my parents' house, but still not too far into Jin-ka jurisdiction.

Of course, as I was cooling my heels on a bench planning my next move, I look over my shoulder just as Crazy Mary Ewestein, the town gossip, is out hanging up her laundry.

And of course she recognizes me.

"Little Morty Andlyhoming? Is that you?" she calls out.

"Uh, yeah, I… I just got back a week early, and, um…"

"Oh really? Well, you're outta luck. Frank and Katsie went out to a resort 'till Sunday. They just left not three hours ago. But little Natalie's home now, why don't you stop in and see her?"

"Oh? Well, yeah, maybe… maybe I will. Umm… you wouldn't… tell any of my cousin's friends I'm back already, would you?

"Your secret is safe with me, sir." She saluted. I saluted back and smiled. I had forgotten that she never liked Jin-ka.

I drove up to the house and barged in. I found a note on the end table that read:

"Back in 5 minutes. Natalie."

It never occurred to me to wonder who that note was for.

I took a little tour of the old place in the meantime. Enjoying all the new and old sights sounds and smells.

It so happened that I was in the basement when I heard the front door slam again. I heard her sigh "thank heaven he's not here yet. I just have time to change…"

When we were kids, I always used to hide on those stairs and sneak up on her as she walked in. Now I decided to do the same thing, for old times' sake.

In this house, there is one large room with the long counter dividing the living room and the kitchen. At the end of the counter, on the far wall from the entrance (on the kitchen side) is the door to the basement.

Thus, I was a little hard to notice from that angle, but I got a good view.

My little sister had certainly grown into a very beautiful woman.

From what I could see, she was about five foot two, with a lot of just-past-shoulder-length black hair that was basically straight, but seemed to have been cursed with static repel. Although the light was waning, it was easy to see she had developed a killer figure.

But she dashed upstairs before I could signal my presence.

I stayed where I was.

Then, two minutes later, she came downstairs again. Due to the fading light, I couldn't see what she was wearing as she walked to the kitchen to answer the phone. Although she was under the clear kitchen light, her back was turned, so I couldn't really see her.

"Yes? Hi, Brian! What? What do you mean, you can't make it tonight? … I see. Yes, tomorrow is fine… see you then."

She slammed the phone down and swore. She then paced around the kitchen for a while in a huff before going over to the couch (which faces away from the kitchen).

But as she was pacing around the kitchen, she was really mad.

Also, for the first time, she was in clear light.

And then, for the first time, I got a clear view of what was happening.

She was wearing a vest that was so thin and so tight that there was absolutely no curve of her very ample chest that was not thrown into sharp relief. Each of her massive 38DD breasts was clearly visible through the completely skin-tight fabric, and the dark points of her half-dollar-size nipples poked through quite obviously, only barely concealed from direct view my the translucent milky white of the garment. Her black skirt was so short as to make a great deal of her plain white panties clearly visible, even when she was standing straight up. And she had hitched the thing up over her curvy hips to cover her midriff, so as to make it even more revealing down below. Her shoes were nothing special, just black high-heeled shoes with the heels broken off.

She plopped down on the couch, looking dejected and lonely.

The effect would have been about the same if she had greeted him totally naked in the first place, I thought to myself as I crept silently out of his hiding place and tiptoed across the softly carpeted floor. Because surely this guy, whoever he was, couldn't have been planning to take her out dressed like that; the police would have stopped them before they had gone two blocks. Or perhaps some gang would have waylaid them instead. And he would have been killed and she would have been dragged off, to frightened to resist, to some dark alley, where the hooligans would have copped about a zillion feels off her as they peeled that outfit off despite her sobbing protests. Then, they would have come closer, relished the look of petrified horror on that cute little tear-stained face, and then quickly swarmed all around the poor girl to feast on their prize—

I shook my head wildly. Where had that train of thought come from? I had thought myself a civilized man, and yet I had pictured that grotesque scene in my head very vividly. And this was my own sister I was thinking of in this way! Of course, that outfit would turn any man on. Indeed, on any other woman, that outfit would have led me to spring on her without warning, rip it off, and perform the most unspeakable acts of carnage…

Indeed, I could easily picture myself crossing the rest of this room now, sneaking quietly up on Natalie, jumping her, and—

WHAT?! I slapped myself in the face and wiped the drool off with one motion. I must control myself. I must…

But the sound of me slapping myself made her turn and see me walking slowly towards her.

She leapt to her feet and looked at me with an "I am so dead" half-smile. "Oh! Er… H-hi, Morty, we… I… we didn't expect you back so soon…"

"I know." I remarked, enjoying the cute blush on Natalie's face as she cringed in embarrassment at being caught in those clothes. "I came back a week early. And I heard Mom and Dad are away at that resort, so it looks like we have the house to ourselves all weekend." That hadn't come out quite right, and the look of shock that crossed her face showed that she had caught the unintentional double meaning in my remark. "I-I mean," I quickly endeavored to correct my mistake, "We have a lot of catching up to do, Naddie." I changed the subject. "Six years, hasn't it been? My goodness, Naddie, you've certainly turned into a beautiful young woman…" I kept my expression genial while I mentally kicked myself. I had been planning to say that to her when we saw each other again, no matter what she looked like. But with her dressed like that (If 'dressed' is even the word) almost everything I said seemed to take on a double meaning.

When I looked at her face, I could see she was wondering if I 'meant what I meant' as the saying goes. She started chewing on her right index fingernail (a nervous habit she's had for years) and muttered, "I really missed you too…"

I wisely decided against giving her a hug. But it didn't help that I was starting to have my own second thoughts about what the right course of action was.

I reviewed my options.

I could not deny that chance had placed a fantastic opportunity in my hands. I had several options, but ignoring that fact was not one of them.

A little figure in angel garb appeared on my right shoulder. He informed me that the proper, moral, and Holy course of action would be best. This option would be: To control myself. Keep my hands to myself. Go against every basic instinct coursing it's way through my central nervous system. And to ask her to change into some real clothes.

And it was true that incest was wrong. That to take advantage of the poor little kid in this way would, according to the 'experts,' damage her psychological foundation beyond emotional repair. That there would be hell to pay if absolutely anyone found out. And, worst of all, he reminded me of the risk of impregnating her.

Then, the customary Devil Me appeared on my left shoulder. He rationalized as follows.

She was probably already on the pill if she was dressed like that in the first place. The same 'experts' who talked of psychological damage are the same know-it-all group who claimed that prolonged exposure to TV, video games, and anything else fun would corrupt innocent minds. If that was true, both her and me should be homicidal maniacs by now. Besides, if she was wearing that outfit with a guy allegedly on his way, how innocent could she be? And, as the final blow, keeping my hands to myself would not only be incredibly difficult, but also incredibly painful as well. Besides, not only could I not resist her, I realized I also honestly didn't want to.

To give my moral side credit, my mind was not made up before this argument, although it was afterwards.

The satanic side of me drop kicked the moral side out of this story, and then continued.

Besides, he elaborated, she could not possibly resist me. Not only was I attractive, but also much stronger than she was. But, even if I didn't want to hurt her (which I didn't), I could just threaten to call mom and tell her what her dear sweet Natalie was wearing and why. Mom may have changed somewhat in six years, but not enough to avoid turning nasty if she heard of this. And when she was nasty, nothing I could do to Naddie would possibly be as painful as the tongue-lashing she would receive from our over-protective, disillusioned mother.

That clinched it.

Over the few seconds this decision took, I kept looking Naddie up and down. She was standing with her arms in front of her. She kept looking at the floor and chewing her fingernail, and from the look in her eyes during those little upward glances she gave me, I could tell she could see I was working things out.

"You know, Naddie," I said, starting the games, "Technically, I should call mom and tell her what you're wearing…"

But the instant I took one step towards the phone, she threw herself into my path and blocked me. "P-P-Please don't tell her… you wouldn't do that to me, Morty, w…would you?"

I cut her off. "Naddie, you know, all kidding aside, this is very serious… I still think I should call mom anyway."

"NO! I—I'll do anything, just don't…" she squeaked as I brushed past her.

I picked up the phone and (this was just to scare her, I didn't even dial a number) started to say "Operator, give me—" and was cut off by her running up to me, reaching up and kissing me full on the mouth!

Needless to say, I hung up the phone.

She pulled away, and slowly backed away a few steps, panting and blushing. She kept nervously moving her eyes all around the room.

She reached a distance of about 5 feet, and we both stood there for a few seconds in awkward silence. She managed to look incredibly shy and yet subtly seductive at the same time.

"Well" I said.

"Well" she replied.

We stood there a couple more seconds.

Finally I started moving. I saw her eyes widen when I started walking towards her, and she started chewing her fingernail again, but she didn't move. I crossed the few steps (that took what seemed like hours to walk) and placed my hands on her shoulders.

I felt a little shiver, and she looked down at the floor, by which she couldn't help but catch sight of the large bulge forming in my own loose clothing. I heard a little tiny whimper when she saw that.

I then took my right hand off her shoulder and patted her ear with it, Then I formed a fist (out of her sight) with the index finger extended partially. I slipped this finger under her chin and slowly drew her head up to look at me. She had a cute little wide-eyed, partially open-mouth expression on her face. I slowly leaned in for a kiss, being careful to keep my eyes a crack open to judge her reaction. She hesitated a bit, then closed her eyes and stretched her neck up to meet me halfway.

I stopped just short and pulled my head away. After a moment, she opened one eye to see why I hadn't connected. Once her eyes were open, I took my hands off and turned away.

Now this is interesting. I had intended to just say my next lines with my back turned for dramatic effect. But the moment I felt he r arms drape around me from behind, her hair against my cheek, and those breasts pressing into my back, I knew something was wrong. I realized that it must have looked to her (and even, in hindsight, to me) like I had changed my mind and was going for the phone again.

I knew then that I had her completely in the palm of my hand.

Just to reassure her, I stopped moving, put one hand on hers, and patted her head with my left hand.

"You know, Naddie," I said, "It takes a lot of courage to do what you've done. That outfit must be hideously uncomfortable."

I felt her nod and heard her "Mm hmm" softly.

"Well then, why don't you take it off and be more comfortable?" I suggested.

I heard her gasp and draw away a little.

I pulled her hands off me and turned around. "You heard me, Naddie. Besides, you shouldn't be wearing that in the first place. Take it off right now."

She just stood there looking sheepish, so I moved my hand slowly towards the phone. She whimpered a little, then started to move her hands in the right direction.

"Stop." I said. She stopped and looked at me quizzically.

"Here, let me do it." I stepped behind her as she gave a little yelp of surprise.

I wrapped my arms around her, and proceeded to squeeze her protruding nipples through the fabric while squeezing the rest of her breasts with my hands. She tensed up a little, then started breathing heavily, but other than that there was no reaction.

After a few seconds of this, I hooked my thumbs under the side edge where the sleeves would begin, and pulled it out and in, exposing her luscious breasts. Now at this she gasped a little.

I stepped back in front of her to admire them in full. She was blushing and looking away, but I could see she had this kind of open-mouthed grin on her face. I stepped forward, took a hold of the bottom edge of the thing, and with one quick motion whipped it up and off her. I lightly tossed it aside as she covered her chest with her hands suddenly.

I then knelt down, reached up, and slid her panties down her legs. I noticed her pussy was shaved completely smooth. As she stepped out of the panties, I also slipped those shoes off. I slid them off to the corner where I tossed her shirt. As I stood up, I also unzipped her skirt and let it fall down. As she stepped out of that, too, I kicked it over.

"Now," I asked of my sister, "Doesn't that feel better?"

She seemed too nervous to answer.

I raised her head to look at me, leaned close to her ear, and whispered "Would it be any better if I took off my clothes too?"