Date: 7 Nov 1995 10:01:32 -0500
From: Derek
Subject: Bound to Masturbate (m/m, teens, bondage)

Disclaimer:  The following message depicts explicit sex between teenage boys.
	Please don't read the following posting if you are under 18 years
of age or if sex between boys is offensive to you.  This story does
include bondage.

	This story is as close to 100 percent true as a dozen years of
intervening time will allow.  I know many stories begin with this claim,
but I think the silliness of the intial situations described show that
this could only happen in real life.  If it were fiction I think I could
come up with more excitement at the appropriate times.  I have tried to
capture all my actual thoughts and impressions during the experiences, but
these are the most unreliable parts of the story and are undoubtedly colored
by the intervening years.  I've changed a lot since I was a teenager, and I
can't help but look at the past with my 28-year-old mind.  The names of all
the people in this story have been changed.

--------------------------

Bound to Masturbate (m/m, teen, non-consensual, bondage)
by Derek

Part 1

My brother's best friend throughout his childhood was a kid named Jason, a
guy he's still friends with today, although they're not as close.

Jason today is beautiful.  He stands six foot three and has the broad
shoulders, well developed chest and arms, and narrow waist that only come
from serious workouts.  He has thick, wavy, dark red hair and bright blue
eyes that make him look playful but untrustworthy.  He has soft alabaster
skin punctuated by occasional freckles left over from his childhood.  Jason
has large features -- a roman nose, high cheekbones, a powerful jaw, and a
wide forehead -- that suit his strong frame.  He also has a very large dick.

As a young boy, when this story takes place, Jason was still tall for his
age, but he was also skinny and very freckled.  Before he filled out into
manhood he was quite gangly.  People may have called Jason cute, but no one
would have said he was beautiful or handsome.

One summer afternoon I was in my bedroom.  I was 13 years old and had only
recently discovered the pleasures of masturbating.  Surprisingly, I was not
engaged in jacking off at that moment.  I was reading Stephen King.  Matt and
Jason were in my brother's bedroom talking.  In that house eavesdropping
between our two bedrooms required no skill.  The two rooms had been a bedroom
and study for the previous owners, and all that separated them was a double
door not much more solid or soundproof than a heavy piece of cardboard.  

Matt and Jason, not realizing I was within earshot, were discussing
masturbation.  They had heard about it at school and were curious what it was
all about.  Between giggles and sudden hushed whispers I could hear them
speculate on what it would feel like, and what the "stuff" looked like that
allegedly came out.  I could tell they were playing with themselves, or maybe
each other, but they were dissatisfied that nothing was happening.  They
were, after all, only 11 years old.

Jason suggested they ask me about it, but Matt was adamantly opposed.  Even
though Jason had been told that lots of kids did it, Matt was certain that I
wasn't one of them.  Anyway, he said, I wouldn't admit it if I *had*
masturbated.

I wanted to shout out that I had done it and that I'd be happy to talk about
it.  I'd never heard anyone openly discuss my hidden vice before, and
listening to their discussion had made me very horny.  I'd forgotten all
about my book and was lying on my bed with my right hand massaging the bulge
in my pants.  

Then Matt raised the notion of having me demonstrate masturbation for them.
 It was Jason's turn to express his doubts, but Matt suggested that they
*make* me masturbate -- tie me up and force me to play with myself.

I was shocked and thrilled at the suggestion.  I had always been a bit of an
exhibitionist, and I couldn't imagine a more exciting activity.  My heart was
beating so loudly and my dick throbbing so hard, I was almost too distracted
to pay attention to the rest of their plan.  But I forced myself to listen
closely, and when I realized they'd finished laying out the scheme I snuck
out of my room and downstairs so as not to be caught eavesdropping.

A little while later, but not soon enough for my anxious self, Matt called
me upstairs with a promise to show me something.  I bounded up the stairs,
opened the door to my brother's room, and stepped into their "trap."   Matt
and Jason had prepared a series of noosed ropes for me, using their boy scout
knot-tying skills.  In a flash of activity my feet and hands were bound
together and I was dropped to the floor.  My hands were then slipped into a
noose that was already attached to the leg of my brother's dresser and my
legs were slipped into a noose that was similarly attached to one of the legs
of the bed.

Then they stripped me.  My shoes and socks came off first, as they took no
effort, then Matt and Jason pulled down my shorts and underwear, Matt sitting
on my legs while Jason temporarily removed the rope so the clothing could be
taken off from around my ankles.  After they stripped off my pants, they
followed with my shirt, Jason pinning my arms until Matt reattached the rope
to my wrists.

Could I have escaped while they stripped me?  Maybe.  I certainly could have
given more than the feeble struggle I managed.  And although my mouth was
never gagged, I didn't yell.  My protests were minor, feigning confusion and
shock more than outrage and disgust.  The truth is that I was enjoying
myself.

By this point escape was now impossible, though.  I was strapped down tight,
flat on my back, completely naked.  Every time I pulled on the ropes they
only got tighter around my wrists and ankles.  I could vouch for Matt and
Jason's skills; they had learned their knots well.  

My dick was pointing straight up in the air, bouncing with each vigorous
beat of my 13-year-old heart.  Jason was fascinated by my tiny bush of pubic
hair, in those days the only hair on my body.  He swirled his fingers through
the dark curly patch, giggling as he saw my dick jump with each touch.  Then
he and Matt took turns touching my erection, amazed at how stiff and thick it
was compared to their own little boners.

At this point Matt explained what their plan was. They would untie my right
arm, but nothing else.  If I tried to free myself, they would kick me.  If I
wanted to be released, then I would have to masturbate in front of them.

I protested, trying to feign outrage.  I assumed some shock and anger was
expected of me, but I doubt if my act would have been good enough for
discerning critics.  They told me I had no choice, and I had to admit it was
true.  I was at their mercy and would have to do what I was told.  Matt
removed the noose from my right arm, careful to pull it back tight around my
left wrist.  I lowered my right hand to my erection and began to stroke.

Jason and Matt stared at me in awe as I played with myself.  Jason was
absent-mindedly rubbing my leg in time with the beat of my wrist.  I had
rarely before been so aroused.  I pumped and pumped, my excitement rising
with each stroke.

As I came, spurting onto my stomach, I heard one of the boys gasp.  I think
they had expected something that looked more like urine than the viscous
white fluid that shot out of my pulsing dick.  They looked closely at the
semen as it shimmied on my skin but held their hands well back, afraid to get
any of the stuff on themselves.  I was pleased by their stares, knowing I had
amazed them.  I was also still hard as a rod (the wonders of being 13),
turned on by my still helpless position, naked before them.

As much as I may have wanted Matt and Jason to continue that afternoon,
Jason reached down and untied me.  Matt went into the bathroom to fetch some
toilet paper that I could use to clean myself up.  The thrill of being bound
and forced to masturbate was over for the time being.

But Jason and Matt were only just beginning.  They repeated the drill the
following day.  A week or so later I was forced to masturbate again.  I
learned to recognize their preparations and knew when to expect the assaults.
 Over the next two years the routine continued, although the frequency
diminished over time.  The course of action changed little.  Eventually they
began using four ropes instead of two, tying me down in a spread-eagle
position.  Sometimes they would grab snow from outside the window,
"torturing" me with its coldness.  Twice they grabbed me outdoors, once with
a third friend of theirs, making me masturbate while lying completely naked
on the front lawn of our house where anybody walking down the street would
have been able to see me.  They were exciting times, but, as I mentioned,
they grew less and less frequent.  By the time I was 15 I hadn't been forced
to masturbate in months.  That's when the "big event" happened.

One Saturday afternoon in fall, shortly after Matt and Jason turned 13, I
could sense a masturbatory event coming on.  It had been awhile, and I was
looking forward to the prospect.  Sure enough, I was soon implored to come
upstairs to "see something."  When I walked into Matt's bedroom he and Jason
set on me, roping me up tight.  In minutes I was stripped bare and spread
eagle on the floor, my right and left wrists wrapped in nooses that were
bound to the legs of Matt's dresser, and my ankles bound individually to the
legs of Matt's bed.  I was stark naked and helpless, my legs pulled far
apart, and I was enjoying it immensely.

Then a new twist.  Matt took some fishing twine, knotted it into a noose,
and fitted it over the head of my swollen cock.  He held the end of the twine
in his hand and pulled tight.  I winced as a sharp pain travelled down my
shaft.  "What the hell are you doing?" I yelled.  Matt laughed, as he could
tell that this was no feigned protest.  I was annoyed and nervous, unsure
what was happening.

"You're going to give Jason a blowjob," he announced.  As he said this Jason
unbuckled his belt and began to pull his pants down.  Now I was scared, my
heart pounding with fear.  Blowjobs were not a new experience for me, but I
was not about to consent to one in front of my brother -- my little brother
-- especially with him in control.  There was no way I could suck a cock in
front of him.  I couldn't allow Matt to see my vulnerability, to take
advantage of me that way.  Forever afterward the power between us would be
shifted.  I'd lose my standing I'd earned just by being the older and bigger
sibling.  I was only 15 and we had many years still together.  I couldn't
allow this to happen.

I protested -- real protests -- pleading with Matt not to make me suck
Jason's dick.  I would do anything.  I'd clean his room.  I'd pay him fifty
bucks.  "Please," I begged, "please don't make me do this."

Matt only smiled as Jason, his pants down at his ankles, straddled my chest,
knees on either side of me.  Jason shoved his stiff, smooth cock up to my
face and pushed against the tightly sealed opening of my mouth.  The head of
his engorged dick was hot against my lips.  I looked down his long shaft with
its bright red fuzz at the base and thought how smooth and white it appeared.
 I looked up at Jason's face and saw a nervous, eager boy, determined to make
me suck him off.  But I kept my jaw locked and my lips pressed together.

Matt tugged at the twine and I grunted deeply, gritting my teeth to hold
back the pain.  He pulled again, slowly this time, the pain building
gradually into a seething burn as the twine tightened itself below the head
of my dick.  "You'd better open your mouth," Matt said.  "This is only going
to get worse."

I couldn't believe my own brother was doing this to me.  I was horrified at
my predicament.  I squirmed and tried to release myself, but it was useless.
 My dick felt as though it was on fire, the twine cutting into the skin.  As
the pain continued, I gave in.  My mouth opened and Jason's dick forced its
way between my lips, past my teeth, and back to my throat.  I couldn't see my
brother, but I was sure he was pleased to see me raped by his best friend.
 From now on, I was sure, he felt he would be the brother in control.

Jason slammed his pelvis into my jaw, not caring how his 13-year-old cock
gagged my throat.  He was a boy with a mission -- his first orally induced
orgasm.  I could feel the ropes tighten on my wrist and ankles, cutting into
my skin as Jason's motions shoved my body up and down.  The piercing pain on
my dick was subsiding, but I could still feel the bite of the fishing twine.
 Jason's crotch ground into my face as his excitement grew.  His small red
patch of pubic hair scratched at my nose and I could smell his boyish odor.
 The speed and force of his thrusts told me his orgasm was imminent.  His
pounding was faster and faster, hitting me harder and harder.

No more than 30 seconds after Jason first forced his cock past my lips I
felt the jolt of hot cum spraying the inside of my mouth.  Jason exclaimed
loudly, almost shouting as he emptied himself inside me.  I lay there, unable
to stop the flow of Jason's cum.

Spent, Jason pulled away and leaned back, his hands resting on the floor
behind him.  A broad, satisfied smile filled his face.  Even before I looked
up to see Matt standing smug, still clothed but with a large bulge at his
crotch, I knew what I had to do to salvage some small amount of
respectability.  With all the force I could bring, I spat all of Jason's
deposit from my mouth, spewing cum onto my chest and stomach, onto the floor
beside me, and all over the front of Jason's T-shirt.  I spat a second time,
trying unsuccessfully to get the taste of sperm out of my mouth, ejecting a
glob of saliva and cum onto Jason's thigh.

Jason looked surprised and hurt as he saw what I'd done.  "What the fuck?
 Look what you did to my shirt!" he snapped angrily.  Matt laughed hard,
mocking his friend.  Watching my brother's reaction, I knew I'd done right.
 He continued to laugh as he untied my wrists.

It was then that I noticed I was still solidly erect.  As humiliated as I'd
felt, some part of me had obviously enjoyed being raped by Jason.  As I
looked at my throbbing cock I realized I was as horny as when they'd first
stripped me.  Matt, noticing my attention focused on my boner, summoned his
most commanding voice and told me to jack off in front of them. 

I was desperate to release myself, but I was also not stupid enough to show
my desire to my brother.  "Fuck you," I spat out, trying to be convincing.  I
*was* angry, but I think the confusion and excitement were more powerful
feelings in me at that moment.  I reached down to my dick, still stinging
from Matt's sharp tugs, and carefully removed the fishing twine.  Jason was
still swearing about the cum on his shirt, although less fervently now, as I
untied my ankles, retrieved my clothes, and slunk out of the room.  As I
cleaned myself off and got dressed I listened to Matt and Jason loudly
recount the events.  Although I wanted to masturbate, I went downstairs and
left the house for a long walk, unsure how I would face either Jason or my
brother again.

Very quickly I incorporated the blowjob into my masturbatory fantasies,
although I removed Matt from the scene.  I had no desire to remind myself of
his complicity.  My brother acted as though nothing had happened.  Jason,
when I saw him in the neighborhood over the next few days, smiled slyly but
never said anything about what they had done to me.

A week after sucking Jason's dick, on the following Sunday, I was in our
basement looking at some old photo albums.  Our basement was an enormous
space that had been converted into a rec-room, with room dividers in the
middle to separate the "kids' side" from the "adults' side" -- a distinction
that really separated the beaten-up old furniture and a ping-pong table from
the newer furniture and a pool table.

I sat on a ragged sofa on the kids' side, turning the pages of an album,
when I heard Matt and Jason come down the basement stairs.  They started
talking in hushed voices, making it somewhat difficult for me to hear them,
but when they reached the bottom, evidently ascertaining that I wasn't
around, they resumed talking normally.  

They were discussing the previous week's blowjob, and Jason was saying that
he felt bad about the whole thing.  He was afraid I'd hate him forever.  Matt
allayed Jason's fears, telling him I'd get over it.  Then they retold the
events and I could hear their enjoyment in reliving it.  The conversation
turned to semen, and Jason asked Matt if he'd ever eaten it.  Matt, sounding
outraged at the question, answered no, and Jason quickly said that he hadn't
either.  But he added that he wondered how it would taste.  They started
talking about blowjobs in general, and Jason said he wouldn't mind giving
one, just once, to see what it was like.  I assumed they were leading up to
having sex, and my ears were on fire as I grew more aroused.

Then Jason said the most wonderful thing.  He suggested that maybe he should
give me a blowjob to make up for what they'd done last week.  He mentioned it
as a hypothetical possibility, as if waiting to judge Matt's reaction before
he committed to the idea.  I willed Matt's agreement and got it!

Matt said that it had been kind of mean what they'd done, and it would be
nice to make it up to me.  Jason's giving me a blowjob would seem like a fair
trade.  He said he'd like to watch Jason suck me off, but he questioned
whether Jason would really go through with it.  Jason hesitantly answered
that he would, if Matt wouldn't ever tell anyone else.  Matt quickly
responded that of course he wouldn't tell anyone.  But then I heard doubt
creeping into his voice.  "You know," he said, "we'll never get Derek
upstairs.  After last week he'll never let us tie him up again."

Jason suggested that maybe they shouldn't tie me up.  Maybe they should just
ask me.  Matt was incredulous.  "Then he'll think we're fags or something."
 I guess it never occurred to them (or me frankly, as it all sounded
reasonable) that their tying me up and then giving me a blowjob would seem no
less gay.  But Matt suggested that maybe they could get me, in my own
bedroom, if they just waited patiently upstairs for me to come without
calling me first.  Moments later they ran up the stairs to get everything
ready, hoping that it might be possible.


Bound to Masturbate
By Derek

Part 2

My pulse was racing with anticipation.  First I had sucked off Jason and now
he was going to return the favor.  I was so eager for the blowjob, it took a
great deal of effort to wait a full half hour before going upstairs.  I
climbed the two flights of stairs, as slowly as possible, and walked into my
room.  I looked for the ropes that would be tied to the legs of my bed but
saw nothing.  Before I could turn around and search the bottom of my desk to
see if the nooses were there, however, Matt and Jason jumped out from the
corners of my room and were wrestling me down.  

This time there were no restraining ropes.  As Matt pinned my shoulders to
the floor Jason undid my belt and tore my jeans down.  He struggled to pull
them over my sneakers, then bound my legs together.  Once I was thoroughly
trussed he pulled off my shoes and socks.  Jason then unbuttoned my shirt as
Matt continued to put his full weight on my chest.  Quickly they turned me
over so I was face down on the floor, and one of them yanked the shirt off my
back.  My arms were snapped behind me when they grabbed the shirt, and now
Jason secured my wrists at the small of my back, tightening the ropes so hard
I gasped with the pain.

Matt pushed me over so I was again flat on my back, in a by now familiar
position, although my hands were now painfully jammed behind me.  Once again
I was stark naked, absolutely helpless before them, with a powerful erection
and a pounding heart.  I was surprised by the new tying method, realizing I
was not only immobilized but trussed up so tightly that the cords dug
painfully into my skin, but I didn't allow the discomfort to put me off my
excitement.

They stared at me for awhile, perhaps a little too long, and then Jason
kicked off his sneakers and began to undo his pants.  I was confused.
 "What's going on?" I asked.  For an answer Matt reached over to my desk and
picked up a piece of fishing twine.  "What are you doing?" I demanded again
as Matt fitted the prepared noose over the head of my dick.  I looked at
Jason and watched as he stepped out of his pants and pulled his T-shirt over
his head.  He smirked momentarily before he sat down on the bed to remove his
socks.  When he looked over at me moments later he was completely naked.  

"What are you guys doing to me?" I implored, my voice revealing my fear even
as I tried to hide it.  This time they didn't laugh.  Quietly Matt said that
I was going to give Jason another blowjob, but a better one this time.  "This
time," he said, "you're going to swallow."

"But that's not what you said," I insisted, not caring if they knew I was
aware of their plans ahead of time.

"Oh shut up," Matt snapped.  "You think we didn't know you were downstairs?
 We figured it was the only way to get you up here.  You didn't really think
Jason was going to give you a blowjob, did you?  It's not like he's a fag."

I was stunned.  I couldn't believe I'd been so easily duped.  I couldn't
believe they had been so clever.  I was the smart brother.  I should have
been able to see this coming.  My mind was in a whirlwind, wondering how I'd
let this happen a second time.

But Matt didn't allow me to stay self absorbed.  He tugged on the twine with
one hand as he pushed me up from the floor.  "Get up on your knees," he
demanded.  I rose to my knees, my feet and hands bound behind me, as my
13-year-old brother stood before me holding on to my "leash."  Behind Matt
Jason lay back on the bed, his legs spread apart and his head on the pillow,
with his hands casually interlaced behind his head.  His dick danced with
joy, the fiery red pubic hair sparkling in the sunlight.

Matt played out the twine in his hands as he skirted the end of the bed and
stood facing me from the other side.  He gently pulled on my eight foot leash
and commanded me to move over to the edge of the bed, even with Jason's
waist.  I hobbled on my knees as best I could, trying to avoid the pain of
Matt's tugs as he shortened the leash by winding it around his wrist.  I
stared at Jason, dazed by my predicament.  His dick, sleek and solid, danced
in anticipation of my mouth.

"Lick it," Matt commanded.  I looked up desperately at my brother, but he
had no pity in his eyes.  He jerked the twine.  "Go ahead.  Lick it.  Lick
Jason's dick."  Matt suddenly chuckled.  "Dick licker," he said.  He chuckled
again.  "Dick licker.  Dick licker."  He liked the sound of the taunt.  Jason
was laughing too.  "Go ahead, dick licker,"  Matt insisted, sneering at me.
 "Hurry up."

My face was burning with shame as I lowered my head to Jason's crotch.  I
approached the marbleized cock of my brother's best friend and slowly,
tentatively, opened my mouth.  I touched Jason's dick with my tongue,
eliciting a gasp from the 13 year old.  I tilted my head sideways and licked
Jason's rod from base to head, feeling the smooth slickness of its shaft.
 Jason whimpered.   I looked up at my brother, imploring him with my eyes to
let me go.  His eyes were cruel and his jaw locked cold as he nodded silently
for me to continue.  "Please . . ." I whined.  "Shut up, dick licker," he
snapped.   Then he tugged sharply on the line and I bowed my head back to the
boy's cock in front of me.  I must have looked pathetic to my younger brother
and his friend as I silently went back to work.

Back and forth I licked Jason's dick, slathering my saliva on his cockhead
and sliding down to the base, burying my nose in his almost hairless balls.
 As I licked the piss slit I heard Jason squeal.  When I took one of his
balls into my mouth I heard Jason moan.  I wanted to hate what I was doing
and distance myself from the act.  But I couldn't.  Despite my position, I
found myself savoring Jason's arousal.  

After a few more passes I felt a tug on my dick.  I looked up, fearful but
obedient.  "Okay, suck him off now,"  Matt ordered.  "And make sure you
swallow -- all of it -- or you'll pay."  He demonstrated his seriousness by
snapping on the cord.  

I flinched momentarily with the pain, then bent forward to do my job.  I
enveloped Jason's dick with my lips and began to suck.  I slid up and down,
gently putting pressure on the sides of his cock.  I worked his dick as best
I could, and -- despite all efforts to the contrary -- I enjoyed the feel of
his solidness in my mouth.  

Soon Jason was writhing, his legs opening and closing, his torso shifting,
and his hips heaving.  He put a hand on the back of my head, forcing me down
harder, faster.  Now both of his hands pushed my face into his crotch,
grasping tightly at my hair.  I had no control of the blowjob.  Jason was
gagging me on his shaft, forcing himself deeper and deeper, shoving the head
of his cock into my throat.  I couldn't breathe.  Jason gasped for air.  He
cried out.  I flinched, knowing what was coming.  Then I felt the first spray
of cum hit my throat.  Still he thrust my face downward, driving his dick
deeper inside me, and he shot again.  As I swallowed I felt another blast of
cum fill my mouth.  Jason moaned and grunted as he emptied himself into me,
and each time he exploded in my mouth I ate his seed.  I was dying for air,
but all I got was mouthfuls of sperm.  I swallowed volumes of his fluid, each
load humiliating me before my brother a little more.  As Jason repeatedly
shot into my mouth I thought, "I'm 15 years old.  How did two 13 year olds
get me in this position?"  

As Jason's moans subsided to sighs, I pulled back, allowing the wet, hard
cock to snap back onto Jason's flat stomach, hitting it with a solid thunk.
 I looked up at his shuddering chest, slack jaw, and half closed eyes -- I
saw his ecstasy.  

I turned my attention to Matt who stood quiet and satisfied on his side of
the bed.  His face showed a smug half smile as he looked down at his best
friend.  He looked at me dismissively and dropped his hold on the twine.
 "Taste good?" he asked, scoffingly.

I lowered my eyes, unable to withstand his scorn.  I tried to sit back on my
haunches but felt the rope gouge my ankles.  I ended up half on my back, half
tilted onto my side.  Matt sat down on the edge of the bed and talked with
Jason, asking him how he felt.  I couldn't see Jason's face from where I lay,
but I could tell he was smiling as he answered that it was great.  "Hunh,"
Matt grunted in response.  "I'm glad Derek did a good job."

Matt stood up and came over to me.  Without looking at my face or showing
any emotion he reached down to my dick and loosened the twine.  He tossed it
on the floor and then looked me over.  "You like this, don't you?" he asked,
accusingly.  He shook his head as his eyes motioned to my stiff erection.  I
was too embarrassed to answer, and it would have been useless.  No matter
what I claimed, my dick would show otherwise.

Matt turned his eyes to the bed.  "What do you want to do with him?"  Jason
sat up and looked down at me.  His eyes sparkled and his grin was wide, but
what I noticed was his dick, still at attention.  They both looked me over
for a few seconds as my eyes darted from one face to the next, looking for a
clue of what was to come.  "You know what," Jason said, his voice sounding
menacing, "we should shave him."

Matt smiled cruelly.  "You mean . . . ?"  Jason looked at Matt and nodded,
then shifted his eyes to my crotch.  

I followed their gaze and understood their meaning.  "No," I said.  "No
way."  I was emphatic.  They couldn't do this to me.  Then suddenly the
repercussions hit me and I became even more adamant.  "You can't," I insisted
loudly, shaking my head vigorously. "What will the guys at school say?  I
have practice every day!  I won't be able to take a shower!"  As the reality
of my situation sank in, the full impact of Jason's suggestion hit me.  I lay
on the floor, paralyzed by fear, and watched them to see how serious they
were.  I knew I could never face the soccer team if they carried it out.

Matt's face lit up as he considered the prospect.  He walked quickly toward
the bedroom door.  "I'll get the stuff," he called out as he walked into the
hallway.  Jason moved off the bed and knelt down beside me.  "This is going
to be fun," he said, his eyes jumping with electricity.

"Please, Jason," I begged, "why are you doing this to me?  I haven't done
anything to you."  Jason just smiled.  "Please," I whimpered, "please don't
do this."  Jason's smile grew wider.  I began to realize what a sadist he
was.

Matt returned almost instantaneously.  I craned my neck and saw a razor and
a can of shaving cream in his hands.  He handed the implements to Jason,
saying only, "You do it."  I pleaded with my brother.  "Matt, I'm your
brother.  Please don't do this to me.  Please. "

He looked determined, impervious to my words.  Then he reached down and
grabbed the sides of my ribs, beneath my armpits.  I hoped for a moment he
was going to release me.  He lifted my body slightly and slid me sideways,
propping my back up against the bed.  I was now in an extremely uncomfortable
semi-seated position, my arms pressed behind me and my neck supporting my
weight against the edge of the mattress.  "I thought you might want to watch
this part," Matt told me matter-of-factly.

"No!" I shouted.  I squirmed until I fell over on my side.  Matt grabbed me
hard and wrenched me back up, hurting my left shoulder as he did so.  "Stop
moving," he commanded menacingly, his teeth clenched.  I'd never seen my
little brother so confident.  Already our positions seemed to have changed.
 Although smaller and younger, he was now the dominant one.  The fire in his
eyes told me I'd probably never be in control again.  I knew there was no
escape.  I was going to be shaved. 

Jason crouched down in front of me and sprayed gobs of shaving cream onto my
crotch, completely covering my pubic hair.  Slowly he worked his hand in
circles, rubbing the cream into my skin with his fingers.  I watched as he
lathered the cream up and down the shaft of my dick and over and around my
balls.  It was warm and slick.  I would have enjoyed the massage if I hadn't
known what was coming.

Jason held up the razor and I flinched.  "Please don't," I implored once
more.  "Haven't you guys done enough to me?"

He grinned.  "Tell me you don't love this," he said, flicking my boner with
his finger.  "Just don't move."

I watched as Jason held my stiff erection in his left hand and took the
first swath through my bush, moving from near my waist to the base of my
cock.  I saw the pale baldness of my exposed skin and shuddered.  Jason
turned to Matt.  "We're going to need something to wipe this shit on," he
said.  Matt hurried out of the room.

I looked up at Jason and pleaded once more.  "Please stop, Jason.  I already
gave you a blowjob.  I don't know why I've got such a hardon.  I can't help
it.  Please just stop."  

"Give Matt a blowjob and I will," Jason replied, enthusiasm in his voice.  

"Fuck you," I retorted.

"Fine," Jason said, and he pulled another swath through the shaving cream.  

My brother returned with a towel and handed it to Jason.  Jason wiped off
the mess of hair and shaving cream and returned his focus to my crotch.  As I
watched my crotch grow bald I felt my last remaining self respect drain away.
 I thought I might even cry.  I couldn't fathom how this 13-year-old, whom
I'd always thought of as a skinny little freckle-faced kid, was now in
complete control of my body.  I was thoroughly humiliated.

Jason scraped the razor up the sides of my dick, removing any stray hairs
that had grown there, and then he went to work on my balls.  Somehow he
managed to shave them carefully, without cutting me.  He pushed my legs apart
slightly, as much as the bindings on my ankles would allow, and shaved under
my balls.

He took the towel from Matt's hands and wiped off my crotch, then slid the
razor across the few places he'd missed.  I was completely cleaned of hair,
my formerly dark bush now a white, barren, shameful patch of skin.

"Look," Jason said laughingly to Matt, "Derek looks like a little kid."  He
pushed his own crotch up to mine, and his small bush of red hair looked vivid
and impressive in contrast.  "He's just a little kid compared to us."  Jason
reached down to touch me near the base of my cock and his eyes widened in
amazement.  "His skin's so soft.  Feel it, Matt.  It's like baby powder."

My brother crouched down on his knees and ran his hand over my newly bared
crotch and balls.  The two of them caressed me gently, and I shivered as I
felt my arousal grow even more pronounced.  I groaned instinctively,
eliciting an unappreciative glare from Matt.

He reached up and pulled my head down toward my knees.  I thought I was in
for some newly devised torture, but he grabbed the rope behind my back and
freed my wrists after tugging on the knots for several seconds.  Matt pushed
me back against the bed and straightened himself up, looking at me with
silent condescension.

I reached down to my crotch and felt the cold smoothness of my new
condition.  I couldn't believe how strange and soft it felt.  I too was
silent.  Stunned at what Matt and Jason had put me through, I was also
ashamed at how turned on I felt at that moment.  I was practically trembling
in excitement.  

Jason held my dick in his right hand and began stroking rhythmically.  It
was more than I could take.  I reached down and pushed his hand out of the
way.  I grabbed my cock tightly and began pumping it vigorously up and down.
 I no longer cared if Matt or Jason saw my desire -- I couldn't hold back.

Jason stood up and moved closer toward me.  He lowered his dick to my face.
 "Suck it," he commanded.  My hands were no longer tied, but my compliance
was natural.  I opened my mouth and took him in.  I masturbated myself as
Jason drove his cock into my submissive throat.  It didn't take me long to
cum, spewing forth with an orgasmic burst I'd never known before.  Jason took
a little longer, but I continued to suck him until his cum filled me for the
second time that afternoon.  Once again I swallowed it all.  My role was now
established.  It was my job to make him happy.

Jason pulled away.  His eyes were again half shut, making him seem drugged
with satisfaction.  I looked around and realized Matt had left -- probably
out of disgust at my actions, but I hoped it was only to masturbate out of my
sight.  Jason sat on the edge of the bed and began to dress as I struggled
with the knots at my ankles.  I asked Jason to help, but he told me to take
care of it myself.

There was one last gesture of total humiliation.  Before Jason pulled up his
briefs he squeezed the last jism out of his limp dick.  He leaned over to me
and wiped his hand on my shoulder.  "Here," he said, "you missed some."  He
grinned an evil grin, pulled the rest of his clothes on, and left the room.

Yet that wasn't the end of the story.  The next day I came home early from
school, having skipped soccer practice.  I'd told my coach my knee was
hurting, a ploy that might work for a few days without a doctor's note, but I
didn't know how I was going to avoid the showers for the couple of weeks it
would take for my pubic hair to grow back.

Soon after I arrived home the doorbell rang.  I heard my mother telling
someone that Matt wasn't home from school yet, and then I looked up as I
heard footsteps approach my bedroom door.  It was Jason.

I watched him silently as he walked into my room and closed the door.
 Against my will I felt my dick stiffening in my pants.  The skinny, freckled
redhead turned and faced me with a beaming smile.  "I want another blowjob,"
he said.  He started unbuckling his belt before I could even reply.

"No way," I said.  "You can forget it."  I didn't care if my dick was
springing to attention; I was determined to preserve some dignity.

"If you don't suck me," Jason said, "I'll tell everyone at school you're
gay." 

My heart skipped a beat, but I tried not to panic.  "But I'm not," I
insisted.  "And no one will believe you, anyway."

"Oh yeah," he taunted, "I'll just tell them about the blowjobs you gave me
and how I shaved your crotch.  They can see that for themselves."

I shifted my weight back and forth as I grew increasingly nervous.  "You
wouldn't dare," I said, trying to sound confident.  "Anyways, you forced me,
it doesn't make me gay."

"Yeah, like they'll believe an eighth grader forced a tenth grader to have
sex.  And I didn't force you the second time.  You wanted to do it."  Jason's
eyes twinkled with glee, and he pushed his pants and underwear down to his
knees. 

My head started to spin as panic overwhelmed me.  "Oh my God," I thought, "I
can't believe this.  There's no way out."  I wasn't sure Jason would really
tell on me, but I could hardly take the chance.  If people at school got wind
of his story and then saw my hairless crotch, I'd be ruined.  Even if I could
convince them I wasn't gay, they'd figure most of Jason's story was true and
that I probably had given a blowjob to a 13 year old.  For a second I thought
I would faint as I wondered where I went wrong to get myself into this whole
mess.

But what brought me back to the moment was my libido.  Facing hopelessness
and shame, I became aware of the throbbing in my pants.  I was still a horny
15-year-old, and even the humiliation of being ordered around by a
13-year-old boy couldn't tame my excitement.  I looked at Jason's eager boner
and realized that at least half of me wanted it -- to touch it, to feel it,
to suck it.  I just wished our positions were more equal, but I didn't have
much of a choice.

So I did as he instructed:  I took off the rest of his clothes, removed my
own, and followed his commands like a puppet.  "Dick licker," he called me,
and smiled.

Jason came back again after dinner that night and again the next afternoon.
 His sperm became a regular addition to my diet.  Over the next couple of
weeks I gave him several blowjobs, and the things I had to do to please him
expanded with his imagination.  For almost four years I was forced to perform
as Jason's slave, obeying his instructions.  I was often humiliated by this
boy, sometimes before his friends and twice before his older brother.

I enjoyed the attention and sometimes thrilled to the sexual adventure.  But
often the experiences were simply humiliating, painful, or cruel.  Some
events I recall with renewed arousal.  Others I can't forget, no matter how
hard I try.  My teenage years were certainly weird, I just can't decide if
they were the best of times or the worst of times.