Bella Helps Family

By: TMax

First version published on StoriesOnline.net

Second and expanded version published on zbookstore.com

Copyright © by TMax - tmax02610@gmail.com

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact Max Thomasson at tmax02610@gmail.com.

The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred. Although, would love it if this actually happened :)

Book Cover by TMax

Second Version edition 2025

Bella Helps Family

Kindness, I repeat to myself as I gaze at my reflection, always kindness, especially with people I dislike. Mentally, I repeat the mantra of kindness while I study my reflection. My eyes appear too shallow, not prominent, nor strong enough, so I add thick black eyeliner to enhance them. If I squint, my appearance looks more dangerous and mysterious, unlike a little girl's. I can’t help my baby face, but at least my eyes have some character.

“Bell, hurry, I need the washroom,” my older brother, Gary, yells. He changed this year, from mean and powerful to whiny wimp. Bully to bullied. He yells again, “Bell, hurry.” Disgusting.

He entered public school for grade twelve, stating it would help with the transition to university. In other words, he did it to have better access to public schoolgirl sluts. However, he discovered the hard way that public school kids do not put up with his shit.

“Bell, please.”

Now, he cries in his room at night, and our parents refuse to transfer him back. They say he needs to toughen up. I agree, but what an eye-opener. I used to think he represented an alpha male, strong, competent, with a mean streak that toughened me.

“Bell?” Gary taps on the locked door. Grrr, I have not finished yet - kindness. I must practice kindness, a virtue, with everyone, so I unlock the door to let in the wimp. I hide my disgust.

“Jesus, Bell, you're naked,” Gary says as he rushes, pauses, and gazes at me. So what? A week ago, I thought I needed clothes in front of him. I now know that siblings can do this without sin, so I tease him with high hopes that my older brother, the one I grew up with, will return and fulfill my desires. The sniveling wimp stays dominant, so far. But I can hope.

“Not done yet,” I say and force myself to remain calm and add more eyeshadow. Past Gary would have slapped my ass already and made a rude comment. Current Gary just stares.

I mentally repeat, ‘Kindness.’ Who knew that such a simple virtue would feel so hard?

He does the pee dance and avoids my naked body. My real brother remains buried deeper than I initially thought. I lean forward to pretend to adjust my eye shadow, and he smacks my bare butt. Finally!

“Right, well, hurry, because I have to pee,” Gary says, with some backbone. His gaze travels up and down my body as he checks me out. The bastard has returned. Kindness has helped uncover my real brother. Excellent. The strong one who taught me bravery and toughened me into a diamond. I mean, fuck, let him stare. I love my brother. Secretly.

“It'll take the time it takes,” I say, and brush my long, curly, brown hair. Does my brother stare at my breasts? I love my breasts, my best body part, firm and high on my chest, with puffy red areola. No, he stares at my bush. I need to shave again; the stubble has returned.

“Come on, Bell, I need to pee,” Gary says with a whine. Fuck, the whiny wimp has returned. So close. Last year, he would have picked me up and thrown me out. Or onto his bed. Fuck, such a whiny wimp.

“I'm not stopping you,'' I say and chuckle at his embarrassment. I need a darker lipstick. I need something more severe than cherry red, my darkest color.

“Bell,” he says with his hands between his legs, and continues the pee dance.

I turn on the water to taunt him before remembering kindness. I need to show him kindness. I pretend to wash my hands. “G, your choice, piss in the toilet or your pants, I'll be late if I don't finish this,” I say. More worried about him than ever. An hourglass naked girl stands in front of him, and he has done nothing. I bend to show him my ass while my breasts hang forward off my body. I hope he pees his pants. He made me piss my pants at my fifth birthday party. Older and bigger, he has tormented me for years.

“Fuck, Bell, you bitch,” he drops his pants, pulls his dick from his underwear, and pisses in the toilet. I like his penis and wish old Gary would do something with it.

“All done,” I say, and toss a wet face cloth to him. Instinct moves his hand to save his face, but his pee stream jerks and covers the toilet and his sock.

“Fuck, Bell!” Gary screams. I turn away and suppress a laugh. Now, Gary must change his clothes and wash the toilet. Payback!

Guilt wells up in my heart. Kindness. I took a vow of kindness. Shit, I turn around and return to the washroom. “Sorry, G, I'll clean the toilet,” I say as I admire his dick.

He finishes and puts his soft, but fun-sized, snake away. How much will it grow?

“Thanks, Bell,” Gary says, which shocks me. Gary, grateful? No fucking way. Maybe kindness does work.

I rummage under the sink and pull out the disinfectant spray and two rags. Gary stares at my ass as I back up, which causes my heart to flutter. Has my real brother returned? Will he do something? I hope so. I wiggle my ass. Either the old version of Gary returns, and we play together, or I torture the new Gary; either way, I win. No, kindness - I need to show kindness to my brother. Fuck, why must kindness feel so hard?

Ms. Barrett’s words echo, “siblings can show each other affection.” Old Gary would have shown affection in how my body wants, but I must show kindness to new Gary. Why? Gary’s eighteen, what eighteen-year-old won’t play with a naked buxom sixteen-year-old?  

I shuffle to the toilet and spray blue disinfectant on the pee puddles. I give Gary one rag and wipe with the other. With little space beside the toilet, we bump into each other as we clean, which leads him to push me away. I retaliate with a kick to his leg. Unbalanced, he falls on the floor.

Gary’s eyes narrow, but he wears a grin from childhood when we played together. He lunges awkwardly but effectively, pushes me onto my back, and straddles me. A hard push doesn't do anything to remove him. His hands shoot to my armpits, my most ticklish spot. Thrashing and too weak to stop him, I can’t avoid the tickles and can barely breathe.

“You're mine now, Bell,” he says and lowers his face to mine, “I'll make you pee your pants again.” His hard penis presses into my belly. My stomach turns and flutters while my mind soars. Finally, we get to play something fun. I want to feel his penis.

“I'm not wearing any,” I say to tease him and hint that we could do something more.

The world pauses, our gazes meet as boy and girl, not brother and sister. His bulge grows closer to my chin while his palms touch the edges of my breasts. My skin burns where his hands rest.

“Ahhh,” Gary says, the moment breaks, and Gary runs from the washroom. Too bad, I wanted to play with his erect penis. Such a wimp. How can a guy change so much? Frustrated and horny, I brush off the dirt from the floor and return to my room.

Mom and Dad leave for work with shouts of love and reminders about chores. Dressed and ready for school, I join Gary, with his puffy and swollen eyes, at the breakfast table. ”Have you been crying?” I ask. Never, ever, have I seen him cry. I have heard him nightly, but those I can ignore or pretend that I must have misheard; the visual evidence shocks me. Where has my big brother disappeared to?

“I gotta go,” he says as he jumps up from the table and rushes away.

A moment later, I process his retreat and shout, ”Gary, what happened?” but he has gone.

I grab a banana for breakfast and sprint after him. Wrongness and dread consume me. I need to know what happened to the brother I used to have.

He walks with purpose, eyes focused forward, not once glancing behind him, making him easy to follow, although I stay to the side and have my hoodie pulled up, just in case. He turns into a back lane. Since transferring to the public school, he’s acted strangely.

I peek around the corner, not sure what to expect, maybe a drug deal, or a secret girlfriend. Gary peers up at two huge, scary men. My eyes would only come to their chests. One wears a simple plaid jacket with long, greasy hair. The other wears a white tank top, his defined arm muscles covered in a jagged, ugly, black tattoo that accents his prominent veins. He has an angry red scar on his shaved head.

Gary hands them my gold bracelet, which explains where my jewelry went. Shit, drugs? No, they pocket the trinket without giving him anything back. It also explains why Gary doesn't wear his gold chains anymore. I just thought he had finally outgrown that phase.

I lean out too far because the long-haired lumberjack yells, “Who's that?” Gary and the other guy spin to stare at me.