Becoming Maxi

Please don't touch me

running, jumping, and the mandatory screaming. we weren't supposed to be playing games like that in the house, but we were having too much fun to care. I don't remember what we were playing but at the end of the day, Ace won.

ayuub (or Ace as we call him) is my eldest brother. at the time he was very athletic and even more wild. so it was no surprise that he was rather strong, and no surprise that he won.

when he won, instead of a reward for winning, Ace suggested a punishment for losing. getting a spanking. back then I had no idea that there was an issue with anyone touching me in such a private area.

ace is exactly 5 years older than me making him around 11 or 12 at the time of this incident. he was completely aware of how wrong it was to put your hands on someone else's private parts and completely aware of how crazy it was to do that to your sister.

now yes Ace was raised in a household where spankings weren't abnormal whatsoever. but the spankings he received from his parents and the ones I received from him were completely different. When he got a spanking it was seen as a form of punishment. but with me, the sole purpose was to see it move.

the worst part about all of this was that I was under the impression that not only was this some sort of game but also that I wasn't playing it alone. I was told that Hud was involved too and that he was also playing along with me but the rules of the game didn't allow us to talk to each other about it. I was told that I was competing against Hud to collect as many 'spankings' as I could get. and that I would lose the game if we talked about it.

darn, my competitive ass.

these 'spankings' were used as a form of deception to me and eventually control. as the touching only got worse and more prominent. so did my understanding of the situation. I finally realized that something wasn't right when looking at his face.

aces face usually had this sort of friendly look. his eyes were soft and inviting, like warm pools of love. I felt safe seen and loved. and carried himself with this sort of presence. like a lion watching its cubs. he was domminating yet loving. soft yet strict. he made you feel safe. protected. making it easy to be trapped in his den of old bones and dead creatures. I was nothing but a lone mouse unable to see or understand the danger I had walked myself into.

on one particular day, we were at my dad's community center Ace had just received a beating from our father and he had a habit of taking those (and any other type of anger) out on me. well, Hajjar and I were memorizing quran verses in one of the rooms at the center when he found us. he comes into the room unannounced. slamming the door open with a sort of aggression. he quickly ushers Hajjar out of the room with no explanation.

his eyes seemed to change color as they went from the deep almond I learned to know and love so much. to a sort of empty black. his gaze was sharp and cold his face devoid of any emotion as he took long strides toward me I no longer felt safe nor protected. in just a second the air around me went cold as I shivered in fear of what was to come next. As he comes closer he grabs me and throws me on the table beside him with zero care. his once soft and warm hands now harsh and cold.

he made quick work not wasting any time as he rapidly tugged at my dress. as soon as my clothing was moved out of the way he made no hesitation in laying a harsh smack on my butt. this time it hurt. emotionally, but also physically. I winced in pain as he landed another slap soon after. this wasn't fun anymore and I wanted to leave. but I couldn't leave. I could barely move as his hand was planted firmly on my hip his strength keeping me from turning or even jolting too far forward. though it seemed to represent how in control he was. both physically and mentally.

and fighting I did. I was never the type to sit still but that day I learned to. ace wasn't much to raise his voice to me often speaking in soft tones. but as I kicked and thrashed he held on to me and with a stern voice he yelled "Stop!" his voice sent shivers up my spine as his words bounced around the room. it was the only thing he had said to me the entire time. eventually finishing his spanking and leaving the room as if nothing had happened.

that day I knew it wasn't a game. That day it hurt, and the pain would never really go away.

afterward, I dreaded being in the same room as him. but ultimately I was never able to completely ignore him as the spankings became harsher and more frequent. he would manipulate me. treating me like a dog one minute and a princess the next. he would shower me with love and compliments only to take them away the moment we were alone.

I meant no more to him than a bag of old trash. and he made me feel like everyone else felt the same. and after all of that, he would somehow brand himself to be an angel. make it look like he was perfect and only wanted what was best for me. he was the victim. he was the knight. he was the angel. and I was no more than an idiot under his mercy.

I spent that time scared. I was scared to wake up in the mornings scared to leave my room. scared to feel any way or say anything. I felt as though I couldn't talk or breathe. like I was tied up and chained. a prisoner of his majesty's malice. I feared if I spoke to anyone then I might slip and say something no one should know. I thought if I were to say something, if he were to get caught then I would be to blame for his pain. I never wanted to hurt him. I never felt any ill wit toward him. All I wanted was to be free.