Esther And Elijah Pt 01

Author's Note: This story includes reluctant consent between siblings. If that's not your drift, don't continue scrolling. Otherwise, happy reading!

(Also, all characters are above the age of eighteen, of course.)

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Essi sat on her bed, cross-legged, eyes fixed on her phone. With her thumb and index finger, she pinched the screen and zoomed in on the video she'd been watching over and over for the past five minutes.

'I can't believe this,' she muttered, zooming in further. In the clip's foreground, eight-hour-ago Essi was bouncing up and down on a dildo attached to the floor with a suction cup. In the background, on the mirror above the tap, there was a message written into the condensation: 'I own your ass.'

She hadn't noticed it before uploading the entire thing onto several platforms; the comments had to point it out, believing it to be some sort of teaser giving them a taste of upcoming content. It wasn't.

'Why is that there?' she said into the emptiness of her room. 'Who could've--?' Her mind started working, gears churning, figuring it must've been her brother (Mum or Dad? No way!). Maybe he wrote it with his finger, smudging the mirror the way she'd often done as a child on window panes. The skin's sweat and oil prevented steam from settling, and the drawing reappeared every rainy day until someone cleaned the thing.

The message reappeared after she'd fogged up the bathroom by showering before starting the recording.

'But why would he write something like that? What's it even supposed to mean?' she wondered, entirely disregarding the possibility that it could've been meant for her. Self-preservation and all that. Nonetheless, her face flushed, and her cheeks grew hot, her mind spinning a scenario in which he discovered her lewd online accounts.

'No, no-no-no! It must've been...a mirror selfie! A mirror selfie meant for some college chick, telling her (and not me, no-no-no) that he owns her ass (not mine, no). Or maybe it's some strange sort of self-motivation?' He'd been hitting the gym recently. He'd also been going out on runs every morning. And he'd gotten big into that whole be-your-best-self and just-go-for-it schtick.

'Must be it. He's telling himself,' she muttered, 'And if not that, then the other thing. Obviously.' Plausible as can be. Her complexion returned to its natural, pale state, losing the shameful red. She cleared her throat, sighed, and hopped off the bed. It was 6:30 PM, dinner time.

She slipped into her loafers and made for the door. Before entering the hall, she unlocked her phone, closed the video player, and muted the entire thing. Just to be safe. She then patted her skirt and marched down the hall, down the stairs, and into the dining room. The table was set. Her father dozed at its head.

Her mother, prettied up with a neat braid and her Friday evening dress, carried a sizeable bowl of spaghetti and made another trip for the pitcher. Essi's brother joined them a moment later. He stuck out, sporting a pair of grey jogging pants and a loose T-shirt.

Essi would've gotten an earful; he didn't.

'Who wants to say grace?' her mother said, looking expectantly at her children but not at her husband. Lost cause, that one. He hadn't woken up yet.

No takers. Her mother then decided--as always--that she'd do it best, anyway. While her mother rattled down some such grace, Essi snuck sideways glances at her brother. Whatever she was trying to spot, she didn't spot it. His colour was normal, his eyes weren't wide, and his demeanour was as slobbish as ever.

She tried a few more times during the meal, testing the waters, testing whether he'd react in any sort of unconventional or unusual way to her, her person, her presence, or her general existence. He didn't.

Until he did.

'Esther,' her mother said, washing down a sip of white wine. 'You'll be out tomorrow? With that kindly girl, Julie, was her name?'

'Yes. We'll go to the movies in the afternoon if that's all right.'

'Of course,' her mother answered, forking up noodles. 'You know, her mother--Carol, her name--said the most wonderful thing during church the other day--'

'Actually,' her brother interrupted, 'Essi cancelled the movies, didn't you?' He looked at her, more expectantly than their mother had when she was looking for a voluntary grace-sayer.

'I, uhm--'

'Yeah, you did,' he continued, 'or did you already forget that we'd made plans to spend the day together--'

'I--' Essi cut in but was cut off.

'Don't interrupt Elijah, Esther. It's unkindly,' her mother said, interrupting her in turn. 'And anyway, I like to hear it. You two don't spend enough time together, and you'd do well to take a leaf out of your brother's book. He'd be a good influence.'

'I just--'

'You seriously forgot? I left you a message. I'm sure you've read it by now, haven't you?' He raised his eyebrows, and Essi didn't like the smirk on his lips. Not at all.

And then it clicked.

'I...' she muttered, blushing and flushing and feeling a tingle in her fingertips.

'Stop stuttering, Esther,' her mother chided her. 'Get your thoughts in order before opening your mouth.'

Essi sighed, calmed her nerves, and gathered her thoughts. 'Yes,' she finally said after a moment's silence. 'I remember, and I read your message. I definitely...definitely read it.'

'Great,' he said, putting a forkful of spaghetti into his mouth. 'Then you've remembered to cancel your outing with that Julie girl?'

'Sure, of course. Consider it cancelled.'

What kind of power play is this? she thought. Is this him showing me that he 'owns my ass?' Her mind jumped straight to the grim reality that the message had really been meant for her. How couldn't it have been after this? His behaviour left no room for doubt. And the situation didn't leave any room for discussions or disobedience--not in front of their mother. She had to play along, at least for the moment.

'Well, I love it,' their mother said, smiling broadly and tapping her fork against the wine glass as though to toast the occasion.

At the sound, their father finally stirred awake.

The next day, they said 'Bye-bye!' to their parents (or rather, their mother--their father was dozing on the sofa) and drove away in Elijah's red Corolla. He'd dished them a tale about showing Essi around his college's campus, and their mother had been all proud and pleased and petitioning God to turn her daughter into a second son.

She'd stopped feeling irate at her mother's blatant favouritism for Elijah long ago but was still hung up about the why of things. Sure, she'd not been able to hold down a job, and neither had she even attempted to get into college ('It's all sorta boring, isn't it?'), but at least she'd always behaved properly and dressed modestly. Not like a slob. And her mother didn't know of her secret ambitions to make it big as a solo, single, and not-at-all-ready-to-mingle porn star.

Meanwhile, Essi didn't know where they were headed, but it wasn't higher education. Then, after a quarter-hour drive, Elijah slowed down and turned onto a McDonald's parking lot.

'What are we doing here?' she said.

'Getting a Coke,' he answered. 'And talk.'

He pulled into the McDrive, and she played with the artsy lace jabot of her blouse as he ordered for the both of them. The Corolla's cabin was semi-hot, and it only got worse as they tumbled along. Too slow for the AC. She feared the seat of her linen pants might catch flames if she started wiggling her butt. Then, he pulled back into the parking lot and searched for a nice, deserted spot.

They got out, settled on the car's hood, and drank beneath the July afternoon sun.

'So,' she said after a long silence, interspersed only by the sounds of Coke being sucked up through straws, cars driving by the other side of the lot, and birds chirping in the trees right in front of them. 'What's up with the "message"?' She kept her tone of voice casual and non-accusatory.

She didn't want to go all out and ask whether he'd seen her videos. Whether he'd written that message in the knowledge that it'd show up during her next recording session. She hoped it might--still--be some misunderstanding, and he'd meant an e-mail or some such she'd overlooked (Though who'd write their sister an e-mail?). She didn't, in any case, want to know whether he'd--

'I saw your videos.'

She choked on her soda.

He chuckled, talking over her coughing fit (which burnt like hell due to the fizz): 'The videos, the photos, the text posts--the latter being no less lewd than the videos and photos, I'd like to add. I've seen it all.' He ended the last sentence with a poignant gaze pointed at her chest, then crotch. 'All of it,' he said for emphasis.

This time, Essi's face had turned red because of the choking, but the embarrassment was right up there as well. She swiped her brunette bangs from her forehead and looked at him with wide, brown eyes. 'All of...' cough, cough '...it?'

'All of it.'

'All right,' she said, 'listen. I do that to make money, all right? Not because I'm into it or anything! I mean, I don't get off on it or anything! I just...I hate working nine-to-five, and I don't wanna study some stupid degree, so...'

'You thought you'd just sell your body?'

'Well, yeah,' she said, shrugging her shoulders and smiling wryly, brow furrowed. 'Seemed like an easy way out at the time.'

'At the time?'

'Money's not exactly been...rolling, or flowing, or coming in in any sort of way,' she admitted. 'Thought I had the body for that kind of work, but I guess the market's like...saturated?'

'But you weren't wrong,' he said, still eyeing her with more scrutiny than she cared for. He shimmied closer, emptying his Coke and putting it aside. 'You do have the body for it. What you're missing is a co-star.'

Essi's eyes bulged. She tried to shift away, but he'd put his arm around her shoulders. After sucking on her straw and swallowing a mouthful--to keep her tongue busy until she'd properly processed what he'd just uttered--she glanced at him and muttered, 'Wha...what? I mean--I, eh, what?'

'Solo content doesn't sell as well as duo content. Silicone dicks don't sell as well as actual dicks...have you ever felt a real one?' he said, smiling slyly. His arm slid down her shoulder, and he pinched her side.

She jumped, staring at the ground when answering: 'No.' The coughing fit had come and gone, but the crimson red of her cheeks was here to stay. Her brother took care of that. 'And I'm not particularly interested in it, anyway. The silicone's just fine.'

In actuality, she'd fantasized about it quite a bit. Those fantasies peaked back in high school, and she would've moved on from mere movies in her head, but her mother had done an excellent job of shooing away any and all boys who could've turned them into reality. And after she'd graduated, she'd turned into somewhat of a shut-in, never having satiated that particular hunger--except with silicone.

Like wanting a steak and, instead, slurping a McDonald's Coke in the parking lot while your brother's trying to get in your pants. She wasn't sure whether she'd want to order the stake off the family menu, though.

'You didn't give me any other choices, and I did think hard on it. You don't get a chance like this just every day. But you're a deadbeat; there's literally nothing I could extort from you. The only thing you have to offer is, well, you, and I think that'll actually work to your advantage.' His hand was cradling her waist, caressing the fabric of her off-white blouse. 'Don't you think? People love couple content. Right now, you have...what was it? Fifteen subscribers? Totalling seventy-five bucks? Amateur hour.'

'What if I don't think so?' she said in a low and quiet voice. Her eyes were fixed on the lid of her cup, and she traced the 'M' logo with her index finger. 'What if I'm content with my...content? What would you say then?'

Her mind was afire. Should she be screaming her lungs out? Should she be looking for a stick to hit him with? She wasn't entirely sure, but she did know that this wasn't any kind of reaction she would've ever expected from herself in such a situation. She felt rather calm.

'Then, I wouldn't say anything. Not to you, at least.' With his free hand, he tore the lid from his empty cup. Small pieces of ice were gathered at the bottom, not yet melted. 'Though, I might decide to talk to Mum; make her aware of your online doings.'

'So...I don't have a say.'

'You do,' he disagreed. 'You'll get kicked out of the house, though. You could search for a job and get your own place. But if that's the play, you better hurry. Temporary homelessness can quickly turn into something permanent. For all their talking about grace, they won't be giving you a grace period, I'm sure.'

'Otherwise?' he continued, picking up a piece of ice, 'I'll own your ass until you make enough money with your lewd, little gig to move out. With this...arrangement, I'd say you'll barely notice a change outside of your video sessions, but I'd expect you to always remember to whom you belong--to which I might sometimes decide to remind you.'

Suddenly, he leaned in and pressed the ice against her nipple. It stained her blouse, spreading its cool.

Essi dropped her Coke, startled, squirming in his grasp. The arm around her back kept her locked in place. The cold intensified as the ice melted, wetting her blouse and bra. Her nipple hardened, and she stared at him from under her lashes, lips puckered and teeth clenched.

'That's all?' he asked. 'No further resistance? No verbal complaints? Guess that's that, then. Agreement. Now say it.'

She stifled a sigh that might've turned into a squall if she'd opened her mouth. Her lips were pressed together, her back arched, her legs clamped, but she held his gaze.

'Say it,' he repeated.

She looked him in the eyes and said, 'You own me.'