Who's In the Closet Now? By Wanderer All about Frank's little sister. This is adult material. Please do not read if you are under age 21 or laws in your country forbid you to do so. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, is unintentional and purely coincidental. I watched my sister's face gradually turn red. It started at the base of her neck where it met her broad shoulders and gradually crept up her neck until her face was pretty flushed. It was the result of my standing there prodding my index finger into her ample chest to make my point. "Now you listen to me, Maddy," I said, "mom and dad have gone to Europe for a month and they left me in charge. My friend Jim is due here any minute now for a two week visit and I want everything to go just right. At 18 you're too old for a baby sitter and really too young to be taking full responsibility for yourself, so you'll do as I say. I've already got four years of college under my belt so I'm a hell of a lot older and smarter and stronger than you so you're going to do what I say you can do and not what YOU say you can do!" "I've had it with you, big brother," she replied. "Maybe you've got more education than I have so far, you're four years older than I am, but you're not any smarter and you're not any stronger, either!" Now that offended my male ego. I always did lord it over my sister, being four years older, so when mom and dad were out of earshot I would push her around, making her do what I wanted. When we were younger I would hide her dolls, punch her a couple times (on the shoulder, of course), whack her rear end like mom or dad might do to discipline her, pull her long hair, and generally use my size and strength to intimidate her into doing what I wanted, and now wasn't going to be any different, even if she had reached 18. After all, she was still a teenager and I was at least half a foot taller at six feet and fifty pounds heavier. "Well, you're still not too old for me to whack your behind if I want to. You're still my baby sister in mom's and dad's eyes, and I expect you to do the cleaning and the cooking while they're gone, and you're to stay home-I'm not going to spend my TV time chasing all over town looking for you while you're out with one of your juvenile delinquent boy friends!" I continued to pound my index finger into her chest for emphasis, idly noting in the back of my mind that she certainly had grown some in the last year while I had been away at college. Her shoulders had broadened considerably, her chest was a wow, her arms seemed to have filled out with a little too much baby fat, and her legs which always had a maturity beyond her age now were as full and strong looking as any I had ever seen, man or woman. She had marvelous calves, even as a child, but now they were so full and muscular looking I idly wondered how she managed to get one leg past the other when she walked. It was pretty evident who had the genetics in the family, and to an extreme degree. While I was a good athlete, my sports endeavors gave me a normal physical development, while my sister's sports participation gave her positively obscene muscular development, something I wished it did for me instead of her. Maybe she had a high level of testosterone, I dunno', but she was about as feminine looking as they come, except with big muscles, very big muscles. As a matter of fact, just before I left for my first graduate year towards my MBA degree at an eastern U.S. university she mused, "You know, big brother, you're 21 years old and I'm only 17, but I think I may be stronger than you, at least my muscles are bigger than yours. Do you think I'm stronger than your are? Wow, what a turnabout that would be. Seventeen year old high school girl beats up 21 year old college graduate brother. Want to try me?" "Aw. Get lost, you little twerp," I growled at her, "I'd make mince meat out of you, even your pimply faced little boy friends wouldn't want to have anything to do with you any more. I'm half a foot taller and I probably outweigh you by fifty pounds, I'd sit on your ass, maybe even squash those balloons you call boobs," I threatened her. "Well, we'll see, maybe when you get back from college next summer, big brother. After all, I wouldn't want to mess you up before you go, why you might even get a date while you're back there," she grinned, "and with a girl, too." "Yeah, I love you too," I said, and I gave her a playful punch in the stomach as I brushed by her to get in my taxi which had arrived to take me to the airport. Funny thing, my hand hurt the rest of the day, maybe I had hit her wrong. But her I was, back home a year later and laying down the law to her. "Hey, cut that out, Chris' sake, what are you doin'?" I yelped. Maddy had put her arms around my waist and lifted me off my feet with a bear hug to end all bear hugs. "Ouch, damnit, you're hurting me! Put me down!" The pressure was so great I felt like my insides were coming out. She had never done anything like this before, never fought back, she would run crying to our parents, and I was astounded that she could even lift me off my feet, let alone hold me there for what seemed like an eternity as the pain shot through my insides. "Mom and dad aren't here to protect me from your meanness," she said, "so I guess I have to protect myself. What will I do with you?" she said, as she gazed up at my face, now turning red from the severe constriction my middle was getting. "Oh, I know," she said, and her face brightened considerably. "I'll put you away for a while!" What the hell did she mean, I wondered, as I pushed both my hands against her shoulders, trying to escape her iron-tight grip. I was amazed at how solid her shoulders were, they didn't give a fraction, and now that I was touching them I realized how broad and strong they actually were. With some chagrin I came to the realization that they were actually broader and stronger than my own, her 22 year old brother. How the hell had that happened? Maddy started walking over to the corner of the room. Alarmed that she could carry me so easily in this fashion I put on my firmest tone of voice and said "Maddy, you let me go this instant and I won't tell mom and dad about your behavior." This brought a merry giggle to her lips, and by then she had reached the corner of the living room where the extra large guest coat and storage closet was. Keeping me solidly clutched against her body with only one hand she released the other and opened the closet door. I was amazed she could hold my 190 pound body as solidly with just her one hand as with two. I heard the closet door open and she unceremoniously threw me into the closet! Before I could gather myself together to do something I heard the door close and the lock click shut. I was in the closet all alone in the dark! Futilely I pounded on the door, but there was no response. "Let me out of here, Maddy, let me out, my buddy Jim will be here soon, and he'll whip your ass! C'mon, let's avoid any trouble, mom and dad will be gone for a month so let's keep it friendly!" I must have pounded on that door for fifteen minutes-I even tried to break it down, but it was just too solid. Finally I just gave up and lay there on the closet floor, exhausted from my efforts, aching from the pressure Maddy had exerted on my middle ribs. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I was aware of was crying in the living room outside the door. God, Jim must have arrived and he must be beating up on Maddy. I didn't want her hurt, but this would probably be a good lesson for her. Jim was a star athlete at our university, one of those Ivy League institutions, and he was into everything-cricket, badminton, lacrosse, polo-there just wasn't any sport he wasn't good at, and I hoped he wasn't hurting Maddy too much as I would have to explain it to our parents. And he was very willful, Jim was really James Pettigrew Witherington III, his parents were filthy rich, they had expensive cars, servants, everything. No one ever said no to him, girls neither, because he was so handsome, and they all knew he was rich to boot because of his prominent last name. I was a little reluctant to ask him to come spend a couple weeks with me at my home during vacation, citing our modest accommodations (compared to his, anyway), but he put me at ease, saying "That's all right, everybody has less than me anyway, so I just adjust to it." Damn fine fellow, that Jim. All of a sudden I could hear the crying come closer-I guess Jim was about to free me, and the door flew open but I was too paralyzed to move by the blinding light that all of a sudden hit me in the face. Then a sobbing body came hurtling into the closet all over on top of me and the closet door slammed shut and it was pitch black again. Damnit, Jim had thrown my sister in here with me-why didn't he get me out? Didn't she tell him I was in here? "Jim," I yelled, "Jim!" but he was gone. She and I thrashed around for a while, trying to extricate ourselves, until all of a sudden, I realized this wasn't a feminine body on top of me, it was Jim! And he was sobbing heavily, in a very heartbreaking and gut wrenching way, without stopping. "Jim, Jim, it's me, Frank, what the hell happened?" I said, in consternation. "Frank, Frank, is that you?" Jim managed to get out between huge sobs. "Nothing like this has ever happened to me before, my world is gone," he sobbed. "Jim, Jim, what the hell happened to you?" I said, alarmed at his statement. Did his parents die in some horrible plane or car crash? Even worse, had he been disinherited? End of part one. Read part two to find out what happened to Jim. Did his parents die? Was he disinherited? How did he get into the closet? Will he ever stop crying? All will be revealed in part two.