Painting Lessons, by Sarah(ff, incest)They were sitting in the den, Michelle on the fold-out bed and Lisa sitting in front of the painter's easel."Hold the brush like this," Lisa said, placing the brush between her long fingers. She leaned forward in concentration and brushed a black streak against the white palette. She took the brush away and offered it to Michelle's tiny hands.Michelle glared at her.Lisa shoved the stick between Michelle's teeth and smirked at the growl she heard. She'd always been good at getting Michelle to open up whenever she wanted.Michelle took the brush from her mouth, and began carefully dragging the brush on the board. But she applied the wrong pressure, and the brush made an angry black streak across the board and she threw it across the room in frustration.Lisa folded her arms."Aren't you going to pick that up?" Michelle asked."I assume that you will not want to resume painting if I go over there and get it.""Clearly. But it's littering."Lisa smirked. She said, "You should really try harder, Michelle.""You sound just like father."That was an insult, and it made Lisa's cheeks burn. She narrowed her eyes.Michelle said, "I don't need to paint.""You are thirteen years old, Michelle. You need an outlet of some kind. And you don't like to read.""It's incredibly boring; I don't understand how you tolerate it." Michelle said.Lisa shrugged."I'm sure I will find my outlet. Father always said I had a silver tongue."They said no more, and Lisa threw away the painting supplies and read, while Michelle ran outside and taunted the Chickens with insults and kicks until they pecked her, and then she decreed to have them executed.After dinner later, after Father had belittled Lisa in front of the family again, Nanny took Michelle to bed. Lisa read by candlelight, silently singing to herself. The owl hooted outside, and Michelle began to whisper through the wall."Lisa..."With stubbornness and tiredness, Michelle couldn't come to her. Lisa's only power was in refusal, and she did, for long minutes, trying to concentrate on her book."Lisa...."The cry became more desperate, as if Michelle thought she wasn't going to come. She hadn't, once, and Michelle had screamed so loud she'd woken up the entire household, and some of the neighbors. Lisa was berated for being a bad and worthless sister, and she went to bed sore and unhappy.At least with Michelle, she ended her nights--with the absence of true unhappiness.The cries stopped, but a sigh came through the house. A gust of surrender. Now that her young sister was sufficiently vulnerable, Lisa crept to the door.__ Lisa blew out the candle. The faint moonlight through the window made them both look a greyish white. Lisa looked at her arm."I liked your singing," Michelle said, firmly, as if she were broaching an argument."Please," Lisa said."I love it when you sing. It drives father crazy."Heat rose in Lisa's cheeks. She sat on the edge of the bed. "You have no idea," she murmured."No, I never have any idea, do I?"Lisa leaned down, staring into her sister's eyes."But I can kill Chickens. Better than you'll ever be able to."Lisa kissed her, to shut her up, to stop her mouth, that cruel speech that spewed from those lips. She'd tried once putting her hand over Michelle's mouth, but the pained look in Michelle's eyes had hurt her too much, and Michelle had bit her hand anyway."You're awful," Michelle whispered when their lips parted.Lisa inhaled and then dipped to kiss Michelle's cheek. She shifted position, crawling onto the bed, slipping beneath the covers to lie with her sister. She said, "I am not leaving until I am satisfied." She moved to kiss Michelle and Michelle bit her, hard on the lip. She didn't have the teeth Lisa did, and though it hurt, made her mouth throb, made her wince, it wouldn't leave a mark. Lisa countered with her tongue, pushing between Michelle's lips, to keep Michelle away from hers.She wondered if she'd ever get a chance to touch another woman's body, to have limbs coil around her, to be clutched close. She supposed she should be glad for this."Does it hurt?" Michelle asked, and bit into her earlobe."Yes.""Good."Lisa touched her in all the places she knew Michelle wanted. She cupped small breasts, and kissed nipples, until Michelle howled in frustration. And Lisa, every night, wanted to rise above her sister and make her use her mouth on that core of desire that drove her to do everything else. But fear and shame, every night, stopped her, and she simply caressed Michelle until Michelle smiled, and with skin flushed, told her she could go.Alone in her room, swollen with bruises--she had stopped trying to figure out how she got them--she moved her hand between her thighs matter-of-factly, grunting as quietly as she could, and tried not to think of her beautiful sister or the blank canvas marred with streaks of black paint. She hoped, arrogantly of course, that the abnormalities of her family were merely cosmetic.She hoped.-----