"Brian, can you come get me please!" came the distressed voice of my sister Frances down the phone.

"Sure, Frances ... what's up?" I asked, though I suspected I knew.

"It's Keith. He's been drinking. He's throwing things. Oh, Brian, please, please hurry ... please!"

There was a loud crash in the background of the phone call and a distant voice saying, "C'mere bitch!" before the phone went dead.

My name's Brian (yeah no kidding). I'm in my early forties and recently divorced. I work in a brewery in the South of England and am currently struggling to make ends meet, mostly due to the Child Support Agency taking away a goodly sum of money to support my kids. I don't have a problem supporting my kids, but what the CSA thinks I need to live on and what I think I need to live on are not even close. I've frequently gone hungry the last couple of days before payday as there's too much month left at the end of the money and I'm discovering the delights of pasta a la ketchup at other times. No, I'm not a spendthrift, it's just I got saddled with loans taken out to pay for my ex's adult education courses plus the car and the CSA don't take that sort of debt into account. I got rid of the TV, the phone and even switched to a top up meter for gas and electricity and on a good month I just manage without sitting in the dark going hungry. I had been heading for a good month till I got the call from Frances ... now I needed to use the car and I wasn't sure if I had enough fuel to get to work and back after picking her up.

Still, a five mile walk would do me good...

Frances is my big sister. She's eight years older than I am and married to Keith. Initially as kids we didn't get on that great because of the gap between us and her being expected to look after me as older siblings often are. Not that we fought, it was more I got in the way as we got older and I suspect at times our parents used me as a sort of chaperone. Still, we'd grown and gone our separate ways, keeping in touch via our parents mostly, despite living only fifteen miles apart. She'd married Keith, had two kids who had grown and flown the coop, one abroad and one to Scotland. It looked from the outside that she'd done well for herself.

"It was during an infrequent family get together at a picnic in a park that I'd caught Keith and Frances having a ... well row doesn't cover it, as it implies words. Call it an incident. I'd wandered to the loos when I caught Keith with his hand around Frances' throat and his other fist bunched as if to hit her, there had been no signs of discord at the picnic so I was a bit confused. Other than that Keith had been drinking from a hip flask, I could think of no reason for the seemingly drunken tirade coming from his lips.

"Oi, behave!" I said loudly and watched him drop his hands to glare at me.

"Mind your own, Brian. This is between Frances and me!" he stated.

"It becomes my business if I see you doing that," I said, not willing to back down.

Seeing that I wasn't about to give way, Keith simply muttered something along the lines of 'this isn't over' and stalked off, clearly unwilling to try anything on with me. The reason for that is I'm very strong from heaving beer barrels out of my way to fix leaks and in my youth played rugby a lot and have a pretty good physique, though sadly not much in the way of personal charm in keeping my ex happy.

"You OK, Frances?" I asked.

"Yes, Brian." she answered miserably. "He's a bad drunk and you might just have made things worse by embarrassing him."

"Christ sis, why put up with it then?"

"Because when he's sober he's good to us."

"And he's mostly sober?"

"Yes... ," she answered, before wandering off to seek him out.

The rest of the picnic was fine with Keith being charm himself, though avoiding my gaze at all times. I heard later that Frances had a fall on the stairs when she got home, hurt herself quite badly, I did wonder...

After that I made it my business to keep an eye on Frances and the kids until the kids were old enough to fly the nest as it were. I had the feeling that Frances constant wearing of long sleeved tops covered a multitude of sins. But getting her to open up or admit there was a problem wasn't easy. Eventually the problems in my own marriage caught up with me and my watch slipped, though I did call Frances or texted her frequently enough to let her know I was still around.

Recently I'd been picking up 'vibes', for want of a better word, from Frances that Keith's drinking was becoming a real problem. Though, as ever, her stubborn pride and unwillingness to give up on her marriage wouldn't let her call me up to help ... well, until tonight that was.

It took me twenty minutes to get to Frances' house and all was in darkness. Still I went up and knocked at the door only to have my knuckles push it open and I could see where it had been forced, perhaps kicked open. The hallway looked OK, but the living room looked trashed, broken furniture and ornaments, same with the kitchen though their knife rack had a blade missing which really put me on my guard. I kept calling out 'Frances' but heard no replies so decided to try upstairs.

The master bedroom was totally trashed, someone, presumably Keith had slashed clothing and broken anything in sight, even the mattress. The guest room was similarly destroyed, however the spare room door was closed and I could see a glimmer under the threshold. I pushed it open, struggling a bit as it was blocked by something and found my sister ... it wasn't good. She appeared to have been beaten to within an inch of her life, bruising, cuts, contusions, though no sign of any broken bones, thank God. Her eyes were swollen shut and bloody drool had cascaded down her chin onto her torn upper clothing whose exposed places also showed bruises, both new and old.

"I'm here, Frances," I said softly, as I knelt to examine her.

"Don't know where he is, be careful," she slurred through a split lip.

"I'm taking you to casualty. Then pressing charges," I said.

"No, just take me somewhere safe Brian, please."

"Sis, you need medical attention!" I said firmly.

"No, please, I will walk out if you do!"

"Christ! OK, but if it gets worse I'm calling an ambulance ... deal?"

"Deal."

I tried helping her to her feet, but it was clear that she could not even stand upright, so I gingerly picked her up in my arms and was surprised at how light she was. I struggled down the stairs and out of the front door. I nearly put my back out manoeuvring her into the passenger seat of my car before locking her in. I then returned to the house and grabbed any personal stuff of hers I could find including her hand bag before returning to the car and dumping it into the back seating area. It was then that I spotted Keith swaggering up towards me looking plain mean and dangerous, holding a kitchen knife.

"So the bitch did call for help," he sneered.

"Fuck off Keith, before I do to you what you did to her," I replied calmly.

"Fucking high and mighty brother from the failed marriage thinks he can take me 'cos of what I did to his cunt of a sister?" he said almost hysterically.

I stood and looked at him and the words stopped as he realised knife or not I was planning murder upon him.

"Take the useless cunt and keep her then, I've no further use for her," He said and staggered off.

I watched him go carefully until I judged him far enough away so that I could get going in the car without him intercepting us. I was tempted to simply run him over, but common sense and caution prevailed. I was pretty certain that I was under some sort of observation from the neighbours.

I got ten minutes down the road when the low fuel lamp started blinking furiously on the dashboard.

"Damn!" I muttered.

"Sup?" slurred Frances.

"Need fuel, but I've got no cash."

"Hanbag ... take money in purse ... use that," she moaned then closed her eyes again.

I pulled in at a petrol station and reached back to nab the handbag and got her purse out. I was amazed to find over £500 in various denominations but chose only to take a small amount out to put a little fuel in the car then popped into the store attached to the forecourt and get some bread, butter, cereal and milk to tide Frances over till things got settled. I also got a top up on my gas and electric meter cards as I figured the first thing I'd need to do with Frances, assuming she was up to it, would be to run her a bath or shower.

Ten minutes later we were at my flat and I was faced another problem. Carrying Frances up two flights of stairs. It was an awful experience for us both, Frances because every jolt and bump made her cry out in agony and for me because of the distress it was causing me to hear her cry out. Still we got there and I somehow managed to get the key in the lock and the door opened. I carried her into the bedroom and laid her gently on the bed. If anything she looked even worse than when I'd found her. The swellings around her injuries had grown and I doubted she could even see out of her eyes, so bad was it.

"I'm going to have to undress you so I can clean you, sis," I said softly.

"K."

I decided to start at the top and removed her jumper very carefully, though still not carefully enough as she cried in pain at each tug. Still it came off and at least I didn't have to cut it. I could barely believe the amount of old scars and what appeared to be burn marks on her arms along with new bruising, though at least there weren't any cuts or open wounds. I did the same with her T-shirt, again causing her a lot of distress, and carefully checked her ribs. There didn't appear to be anything major wrong to my sight, though the skin was a mass of colours from the bruising, as well as some surface abrasions, though again nothing deep. I left her bra on for modesty's sake and unbuttoned her jeans and very carefully slipped them and her sandals off her legs seeing very similar results to her arms.

"I'm going to turn you over sis," I said. "I'll be as gentle as I can."

Going back to an old first aid course I'd taken years ago, I got her into what's known as the recovery position and checked over her back seeing nothing but a mass of bruises and older damage.

"Well, doesn't seem to be any signs of anything other than you've been severely beaten, sis," I said as I carefully turned her over again to face me.

"K."

"I'm going to run you a hot bath and give you some painkillers. Then we'll get you settled for the night."

"Thnks."

I gave her a soft kiss on her forehead and went to run the bath as well as rummaging around my medicine box to find a tab of Tramadol that I'd been prescribed for a bad back six months before. After that I wondered how I'd get Frances in the bath, then it occurred to me that I'd have to remove her panties and bra too ... assuming she couldn't do it herself and I suspected she couldn't.

"Baths ready, but we have a problem," I said.

"Problm?" she slurred.

"Yes getting you in, though I think I can manage that, but also your underwear."

"Ah ... jus go for it," she gasped.

"I promise I won't look," I said with a smile as I reached under Frances to unclip her bra and carefully removed it, followed by my drawing down her panties. I then carefully lifted her up and carried her through to the bathroom before gingerly getting down to my knees as I lowered her into the hot water.

"Ohhhhh!" she moaned.

"Not too hot?" I asked in alarm.

"No, jus hurts."

"Where?" I asked.

"Everywhere," she gasped.

"Take these," I said, I carefully handed her the Tramadol and a drink of water.

Frances swallowed the tablets and lay back carefully in the bath as I took a flannel and some soap and gently cleaned her face, making her wince, but nothing else. Next I poured water over her head and shampooed her hair for her before rinsing it off.

"You aren't going to be a pretty sight for a week or so at least," I said.

"Mmmm," she acknowledged.

"What about your job?" I asked.

"No job, he made me leave," she enunciated carefully.

"Well, you can stay as long as you like," I replied. "Bed's yours, the sofa's comfy enough for me."

"No, yr bed," she said.

"You're not sleeping on the sofa in your condition," I replied.

"K, but when better, your bed again."

"We'll see," I chuckled. "I'll let you soak now. Call me if you need me, but I'll be back in ten to finish hosing you down."

"K bro, n thanks."

"Should have let me sort it earlier. No man has the right to do that to a woman, my sister or not," I said before going through to my small kitchen to see what I could do for supper.

Ten minutes later I returned to the bathroom to make sure Frances was OK and to make sure all the scrapes and cuts were cleaned up before carefully lifting her from the bath to towel her down. I then took her back to the bedroom and got her into an old top of mine and some tracksuit bottoms. Leaving her sitting propped up with pillows I brought a tray with some soup and toast in, hoping she could manage. She ate about half of it before the Tramadol kicked in and I made sure she was comfy and left to sort myself out as it was now getting on for 10 pm.

I was awoken at about 2 am by the sounds of sobbing and went through to check on Frances.

"You OK, sis?" I asked.

Yes, sorry, just hurting and bad dreams," she said.

"I can get you more pain killers," I said.

"Please, Brian."

I got her some more Tramadol and some water and was heading back to the sofa when she spoke. "Brian, would you just hold me for a while?"

"Sure," I replied and went back to the bed and cuddled her in, being careful not to squeeze too tight.

Next thing I knew, I was awoken from a fairly erotic dream of me washing down an OK Frances by my alarm. I also realised that I had an erection and that as we were still cuddled spoon like it was pressing into her shapely rear.

"I have to go to work," I said to her as I carefully disentangled us. "Will you be OK?"

"Think so, I just ache, but I can move about ... I think."

"Well the flat's yours, foods in the cupboards along with tea, coffee and milk. Help yourself and you can get me by phone, oh and my one luxury, my laptop with internet connection is yours to use too," I said as I headed for a shower.

I checked on Frances before I headed out on my shift and saw she'd gone back to sleep and so headed off to my daily grind.

On my return I found that Frances had been stupidly busy, dishes had been done, the rooms tidied and a very nice meal from my meagre resources prepared.

"You didn't have to do this, sis. You're my guest, at least until the swellings go down," I said to a clearly exhausted Frances.

"It needed doing and I managed, though I do feel tired now," she replied.

The bruising and swelling had not gone down, in fact the bruising had turned into some very interesting shades of yellows and violets. Still at least she was mobile, which had concerned me when I'd left her.

"Will it be worth going back to your house to see what I can salvage?" I asked as we ate.

"No, Brian, he was very thorough before he started hitting me, all I have is what you brought."

"We'll have to get you new stuff," I said. "But it'll have to come from your budget I'm afraid. I'm skint, the payments to the kids and the loans are eating me alive."

"Yes, Keith was gloating over your new circumstances. God knows how he found out though."

"I think Jenny phoned around a few of the people whom she knew would enjoy my downfall," I chuckled, oddly amused.

"Well, I have money. I've been squirrelling it away for a rainy day and I can get work too," Frances said.

"Well, it's certainly raining now," I replied.

I refused to let her do the dishes and simply helped her back into the bed along with a hot drink and told her to rest.

"Will you be joining me later?" she asked. "Only it was nice being held, it kept the bad dreams away."

Remembering my morning horn and the weird dream I'd had I hesitated before seeing the pleading in her eyes.

"Of course, sis," I replied. "No rush to get up either, it's the weekend."

After the dishes I sat and played around with my laptop for a while until about eight when Frances came through and asked if she could have a bath.

"You don't have to ask, the meters almost fully charged thanks to you, so feel free," I replied.

"Thanks Brian, ... thanks for everything, you were the only one who seemed to care."

"The rest of the family would, but you kept your secret too well," I said as she left to fill the bath.

"Fear and not wanting the 'I told you so's" came the reply from the bathroom. "Dad warned me that Keith was not a nice guy, but I have my stubborn pride."

"Well they all know now, Keith announced he kicked you out for 'fucking around with other men' on facebook," I replied.

"What!"

I repeated my comment and Frances came back into the living room to see what had been put.

"He's not getting the replies he'd like," I said. "Already had loads of your friends calling him a liar."

"Bastard ... mind if I?" she asked.

"Feel free I'll sort your bath," I said.

When everything was ready for her I came back through and watched as she put the finishing touches to a vicious riposte to Keith's announcement including pictures from the webcam of bruises old and new.

"That'll hurt," I said with a nasty smile.

"Good!"

Frances went to have her bath and I watched the fun begin as her friends and my family now went to town on Keith until he finally locked down and closed his account.

"Brian," came a call. "I need a hand, I'm stuck!"

"Are you decent?" I asked stupidly.

"I'm stuck in the bath you idiot!" came the exasperated reply. "Besides you've already seen everything I've got yesterday."

"That was yesterday."

"Well, it hasn't bloody changed so get in here and give me a hand!"

I went in to see Frances lying in the bath, but the bruising and aches in her arms made it impossible to get out. Whilst I had more or less ignored her body yesterday out of my concern for her injuries, it was far more difficult to do so today.

Frances is medium sized and medium build, 5' 6", 36" (C cup probably with lovely pink nipples), 26", 36", light brown hair and blue eyes and full lips, though they weren't at their best at the moment. I'd also noticed she had a neatly trimmed pussy covering a raised mons veneris with a hint of a pink valley beneath her pubic hair. She's a lovely 45-year-old who does look a bit younger than her years, though not too much, still well worth a glance for her figure alone.