His bitch

The first time another male enjoyed my body was when I was twelve and it was not a sweet romance but struggle and a forced acceptance of my fate. Timothy was his name. He was my brother.
It was summer and Timothy and I were at home going about our own business. Even though he was only three years older than I he’d changed since he turned fifteen treating me as if I were his personal servant ordering me about and abusing me physically and verbally at every chance. The fact that we were going to be home for a most of the day alone didn’t help this.
I at only five feet five inches decided to stay out of his way and when he came downstairs to watch television I’d go out on the patio and read and when he came out on the patio to enjoy a breath of fresh air I’d go to the kitchen for something to drink or head to my room though even there wasn’t safe cause the door’s lock was so weak he’d just barge in and if I did lock it and he got in he’d start accusing me off all manner of things. So was our cat and mouse game for three days until he managed to corner me.
I was in the kitchen making a sandwich and he came in. No sooner had I put the finished peanut butter and jam on the plate than he swooped in claimed it as his own and took one big bite of it.
Timothy was five feet seven inches. He had short black hair like my own and a quiet imposing frame with growing muscles from his constant weight lifting during the school year. He was handsome and if I were a girl I’d probably go out with him but then again I did know how he behaved at home and once I found out if I were a girl I’d leave him but I wasn’t and never thought that way of him I merely hoped that when I reached his age at least I’d have the good looks and no longer the baby face.
“Why’d you do that?” I asked frowning.
“Cause…”
“Cause what?” I asked quiet fed up with his attitude over the past few days as soon as mom left.
“Cause I’m the man here and you are as good as my bitch and bitches make men food.”
“I’m not you bitch butt head.”
“Butt head? Butt head is that what you called me? Butt head.” He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists.
I didn’t say anything but he was in my face in an instant. I could feel his breath on me as he towered over me and I could hear his rapid breathing. I was scared because he’d beat me before and I knew I was no match for him and I didn’t want to fight but for some reason he wanted a fight.
I stepped back but he kept close.
“Leave me alone or I’ll tell mom.”
“You’ll tell mom?” He mocked. “Only little bitches run to their mommies and tell punk.”
“I’m no bitch stop calling me that.” I shouted feeling a knot forming in my throat and my eyes welling up.