Author's note: The following National Nude Day 2016 Contest entry is quite fictional, i.e it's made-up stuff. It's a twisted stroker fantasy; do not expect any reality or original ideas. All sexual participants are supposedly aged 18+. If you object to incest and ironic retribution, stop reading. Views expressed are not necessarily the author's.
*****
No-Nonsense Niece
(She'll do what it takes to save her uncle)
*****
The ringing doorbell, and loud front-door pounding, did not awaken him. The backdoor pounding, and the sharp crack of its window being broken, did not bring him to. Lying on the floor with his face in his own vomit and his pants soiled did not rouse him. Even a distraught voice, the hands rolling him over and dragging him along the floor, and steadily undressing him, and pushing him across the low shower threshold, did not really return him to awaress.
No, he re-entered the world when a cold, relentless spray soaked his fouled naked body, his filthy hair, his puffy face. SHIT! He huddled shivering in a fetal ball on the shower floor. Chaotic words and images of protest and outrage half-formed in his soggy brain.
Then the icy torture eased; the spray warmed. Soft but strong hands touched him, pulled him from his twisted knot, and straightened his limbs. A gentle voice, no longer distraught, invaded his reluctant ears, brushed his awareness. He struggled to assemble the phonemes. Words clicked together.
"Can you hear me, uncle Todd? Are you awake. Can you stand? I can help you stand. Come on, you've got to get cleaned and warmed up. Come on, real easy now, just push yourself up..."
Soft but strong hands heaved under his armpits and supported him. Wobbly knees somehow straightened. He managed to stand under the warm flow.
He felt warm flesh against his naked skin. His inflamed eyes squinched open. He saw a female form, indistinct in the shower's mist, a form with long blonde hair, lightly decent in a pale sports bra and sensible panties. A hand brushed his cheek.
"Can you see me, uncle Todd? Are you awake now? Oh, good! Come on, let's get you clean. You're a real mess. Close your eyes now -- it's shampoo time."
His grey eyes creaked shut again. Shampoo drizzled on his head; firm hands massaged the suds into his scalp, then worked a soapy froth over his shoulders, down his arms, down his sides, around his hips. He felt her kneel beside him and soap his feet (not ticklish), his calves and thighs, around his groin, even his cock and balls (not horny) and his ass.
She rinsed him top-down with the spray extension. He barely twitched when a wet jet probed his spread butt crack. He had no energy for response. It was all he could do to stand without slipping.
The water stopped. The shower door opened. A warm, soft towel covered his head, wiped his his shoulders, dried his torso, fluffed his inert groin, finished his shaky legs and feet. She guided him from the shower; centered on the bathmat, she patted him down more thoroughly. She took care to dry his charcoal hair.
His eyes squeaked open. The mad kaleidoscopic view settled down; his niece Kendra's bath towel wrapped over her soaked bra and panties barely concealed her tall hourglass figure. He registered her presence but nothing more. His toxically-abused body was not aroused.
"That's lots better. You're all clean and dry now. But let's get you to bed. You have a lot to sleep off."
Kendra tied a thin bathrobe around her staggering uncle. His arm over her shoulder, she walked him from the en-suite past his rumpled king bed and set him carefully in the padded rocker.
"Just wait a minute and I'll get the bed changed."
Sweat-stained bedding was quickly replaced. Kendra pushed her uncle onto the bed, centered him as much as possible, covered him, fluffed his pillow, and kissed his cheek.
"See you on the bounce, uncle," Kendra whispered. She tiptoed from the room.
*****
Kendra stripped off her wet underthings and donned a long UCLA sweatshirt she found hanging in the hall closet. She surveyed the devastated house and winced. Uncle Todd had really hit bottom. Bottles everywhere; takeout food boxes scattered randomly; broken pictures on the floor. Trash of desperation.
Where to start? Gather her uncle's and her own laundry. (She snuck into the master bedroom to retrieve some fuming piles. Todd snored loudly; good.) Vacuum the worst. Bag the litter. Vacuum again. And then fearfully start on the overgrown kitchen, oh god...
Kendra fumed while she cleared the disaster zone. Cold fury drove her cleaning frenzy. How
could
aunt Ana, and Lisa, have done this to uncle Todd? Leave him a wasted wreck! Shatter his life! Ruin this good man!
Kendra knew her uncle as a kind man of fragile strength, always dependable but not very self-confident. He had been like a substitute dad. Her own father, Todd's florid older brother, was reckless and angry, always finding trouble. Todd was quietly attentive, supportive, a good sounding board, a true friend.
And then Todd's wife Ana destroyed him.
Todd's signal week had been nerve-wracking enough. His design project was plagued by subtle bugs. His clients demanded too-fast action. Budgets crept. The external pressures drove his silent internal stress.
He locked himself away in his home office for most of that week, working, working. He was quite unprepared for his wife's announcement when he emerged Thursday afternoon.
Ana and their daughter Lisa, lean brunettes in matching dresses, sat uneasily at the living room table sipping from tall glasses. Stacked luggage waited at the front door. Ana glared at Todd.
"I've had it." Ana stood and waved a finger at her astonished husband. "I've had it with your inattention and your wimpiness, your silly fears, your lack of ambition. And frankly, you are lousy in bed." She snapped her fingers.
"I need a real man and Lisa needs a real father. And we found one! No, he's nobody you know. You live in completely different worlds. But we're leaving you! You'll get the divorce papers first thing tomorrow. Don't fight it if you know what's good for you." She sneered.
"Accept it and you'll get off easy." She waved at the room. "You can keep this dump, and the stuff here, and your measly accounts. We don't need any of this. No alimony, no child support -- Lisa is eighteen, remember? -- and fifty-fifty of nothing is still nothing. Keep it. Jurgen will provide nicely for us. I'll marry him as soon as the decree is granted."
Ana aimed a manicured thumb at Todd. "But if you try to fight, Jurgen's lawyers will delay and cross-file and bleed you dry. You will have
nothing
, I guarantee it. So don't be a moron. Set me free."
Stunned, Todd looked as his daughter. Her eyes dropped guiltily, then raised and met his. She did not quite cry.
"Lisa, are you going with your mother? You're a grown woman now. You don't have to do what she says. You know I love you very much."
Lisa looked away again, then back. She stiffened.
"Dad, I... I just can't stay. I have to go with Mom. I just must..."
Tears did form now. Lisa blinked and looked down.
A horn blasted from the front driveway.
Ana stood; Lisa followed.
"That's our taxi. We're leaving now. You don't have to try to help. Just stay out of the way." The doorbell rang. "We can find our own way out."
The driver loaded luggage and passengers and drove off. Todd's women were gone. Well, Todd's women no longer...
Todd felt his self, his personality, crack and shatter and slide into the shitter. The papers arrived. He signed. He sleep-walked through some project tasks listlessly, then stopped. He stopped leaving his house. He stopped caring for himself. He regularly called a local deli that delivered food and booze. He ate a little. He drank a lot. You do not want to know his dark thoughts.
He did find strength to smash every picture of his ex-wife and -daughter.
He had been drinking himself toxic for most of the month following the official dissolution of his almost-two-decade marriage.
"That's where I found him," Kendra confided in her friend Monica. Not the closest of friends, but Kendra felt a need to unload to
someone
. They nursed iced
chai masalas
in a nearby tea shop. "I didn't give him a chance to die. But I kicked myself for not finding him sooner."
"What slowed you down?"
"I just didn't know at first. You know I got a job and apartment right after high school -- I
had
to get away from home. Dad's a shit and Mom's a slut. So I was busy working, and taking night classes at the J.C., and nobody told me about the divorce. I hadn't been by to see uncle Todd for a while. Then I drove by and saw a pile of newspapers on the front porch -- but his car was in the driveway so I knew that he was home. I broke in. That's where I found him. Almost dead. And his house was trashed."
"And you're a good girl, so you dived in and fixed what you could, right?"
"I love him so much! It's been a couple weeks now, and he's cleaned up and everything, but he's just not interested in life. And I can't persuade him to talk about it. He turns away if I mention their names. He only speaks of... nothing."
"Wow, sounds like he's clinically depressed! Can you get help for him?"
"There isn't really money for professional counseling. Well, except maybe a priest -- but Todd's an atheist and won't go near. A couple of my night classes are psych. I've already taken my AP psych courses. I'm reading all I can about depression therapy. So I'll try..."
"You'll try to be a good girl and fix him yourself. I get it."
"Step by step. First was to get him cleaned up. Then to eat right and not drink. Now I have him go outside and exercise. No jogging or sports, just long walks, longer every day. There's an indoor pool at the Y -- I'll get him into the water, too. And then back to his work. If I can have him focus on his projects, he might stop obsessing over this shit, and he should be more open to talking. Yeah, that's my best hope"
Monica finished her chai. "Well, good luck! You'll need it."
Kendra pushed away her own empty cup. "Hey, thanks for listening. It's always good to have someone to unload on."
"Damn straight," Monica laughed. She grew serious. "One thing -- you might try telling your psych instructors about this, get their suggestions."
Kendra shrugged. "They're just T.A.s with no time for my problems. I'm trying to track down an emeritus prof who's never around. Maybe I'll get lucky."
*****
Light exercise and diet improved Todd's body tone in a few weeks. Returning to his projects eased and channeled his mind away from the disaster -- and he needed the income stream. But his work was mechanical, uninspired, only bug-chasing and data mapping, all on autopilot. His attitude was still bleak.
