Date: Mon, 6 Jan 2020 13:41:43 +0100 From: Alex King Subject: Cousins Take Charge 7 Cousins Take Charge Category – gay authoritarian – teen (legal age), role reversal, bondage, discipline, `forced' exercise, Chapter Seven For a few minutes, the only sound in the kitchen was of heavy breathing – from all three; an emotionally-charged moment! But Rad recovered quickly, grabbing and lifting Ben's chin to lock gazes – not cousin-to-cousin, but master-to-slave. "OK, Benny, that's just added a new word to our vocabulary. `Benny' was your signal that you had to obey what we told you without question – now you have `Slave' as well. Basically, whatever we tell you to do, you do it – understood?" Ben looked wide-eyed up at Rad, a riot of emotions teeming through his brain. But in his current situation, he realised there was no option but to respond "Y-yes, Sir". Rad smiled wryly. "I'm not sure you really do understand yet, Benny, but we'll help you get there. You need to know that your opinion doesn't matter any more. If we tell you to do something that you don't like, or it disgusts you, or hurts – well, tough! If we've told you to do it, that's all that matters – OK?" Ben's chest was so tense now that his breath was coming in short gasps, but he had the sense to squeeze out another "yes Sir". "Well, Slave, you've just dirtied up our kitchen floor." Ben looked down at the mess between his knees – he couldn't believe all that cum had come out of him! "Well", Rad continued, "you'd better clean up, hadn't you – and guess how you're gonna do that?" Ben stared desperately up, his arms tugging ineffectually against the ropes binding them in place against his back – surely Rad didn't mean what Ben thought he meant – did he? Rad had no difficulty receiving Ben's unspoken pleas! He smiled grimly down. "Tell you what, Slave, we'll make it easy for you. When we say `go', you're gonna start licking up your mess. An' to make sure you're properly motivated, we'll hit you with our crops – and we won't stop until you've cleared up every bit." Ben stared at the twins, stared at the camera, tried to articulate a protest – but they gave him no time - "Go!" and started whacking their crops down on his defenceless flesh. Somehow, the sting of the crops made it easier – easier to overcome the extreme humiliation of the abject act he'd been ordered to perform, easier to forget the disgust, easier to ignore the cameras recording his degradation. His head smacked to the floor, mouth frantically sucking and licking the congealing cooling muck. The twins were amused by his body swinging like a weathercock to and fro, vainly trying to avoid the crops, whilst at the same time his head anchored to the mess, tongue scraping against the tiles. Messy cum smeared onto his face, into his hair, as his mouth ranged over the floor, hoovering up the muck, his breath panting as he struggled to finish quickly, as the twins continued to rain blows down on him. Little yelps and grunts of pain are being forced out of him now even as his mouth continues to work, but instinctively the twins know this isn't a time to relent, but rather a time to cement their hold on their increasingly-subservient cousin; they've told him that the pain will stop only when he's licked up all his cum, so complete the task he must, before they desist. They continue to ply their crops, smacking them down onto Ben's sore flesh, ignoring his squeals of pain. Certainly their strategy seems to be working; abandoning all thought of dignity now, Ben is frantically running his tongue along the floor, lips moulding against the tiles, licking, sucking, the predominant impulse in his mind to comply with his masters' wishes so they stop hurting him. His masters! His younger cousins who always looked up to him and admired him! In such a short time had their roles been so reversed! At last he finished, and for a short while the only sound in the kitchen was the heavy breathing from all three, and some residual moans from Ben. But only for a short while. Smack! A yelp from Ben as the crop whacked down on the sore flesh. "Up! Kneel up! Look at the camera. Thank the viewers. Tell them who you are, and you hope they enjoyed the show!" Oh fuck. The humiliation seems almost worse to bear than the pain – a tear forms in his eye as he struggles up painfully to stare into the camera, cum still smearing his face and hair. "Uh, thank you for watching, uh, S-Sirs. I'm a slave now, an-an' I hope you enjoyed watching." Ben felt ready to cry again as his shoulders slumped, his head drooping, gazing at the floor – he couldn't bear to stare at the camera. Rad sniggered. He stroked his crop at the bottom of Ben's dick – which unaccountably was erecting once more! As Rad slid his crop up the hardening flesh, Ben moaned and thrust to keep his dick in contact with the leather – it suddenly felt so good! "They say the camera can't lie, Ben – it looks as though your dick can't either!" Ben's sinewy shoulders shook. Rick intervened. "Time to finish and get him up to the bedroom, I think..." A comforting shower with the twins, dried off, face up on the bed, drifting off into a pleasant haze as soothing cream is massaged into his sore flesh, intermittent murmur of conversation, the shared nakedness providing a comforting intimacy. "Shit, thanks, guys, this feels so good." Rad, sitting on his stomach and kneading his chest, grinned down at him. "Not quite sure that's what you were thinking down in the kitchen, Cuz!" Ben blushed, unable to meet Rad's eyes. "Not sure what I'm thinking any more!" Ben moaned as Rad reached his nipples. "That's OK, Cuz, we keep telling you – just let us do the thinking for you!" Hazily, Ben felt Rad moving onto his chest, massaging his arms spread out above his head, felt Rad's balls nudging against his chin. He opened his eyes – and stared at Rad's erection bobbing above his nose; stared as a hypnotised mouse might at a preying snake. Rad continued massaging, but looked down at Ben knowingly, as his cousin stared up helplessly. Ben's tongue inadvertently licked his lips nervously. "Er, Rad, this slave business has limits, right? There are some things you won't make me do?" Make me do! What an interesting way of putting it! An indication already of Ben's deepening subservience?! Rad paused, letting Ben sweat. "Well of course, Cuz, we won't `make you do' anything which will cause permanent damage – you have to trust us for that. But the point is, we decide, not you. It's very easy – we order, you obey!" Ben's throat felt dry. He looked again at that bouncing slender erection; his tongue slipped anxiously over his lips again. He looked into Rad's eyes, wanting reassurance, but not knowing how to seek it. Rad helped not at all, smiling confidently back. Ben's eyes sent out a worried message you-wouldn't-make-me-do-THAT-would-you. Rad's eyes messaged back you-do-whatever-we-tell-you-slave. A moment's silence. Then Rad grinned. "What's his dick doing, Twin?" Rick was still kneading Ben's lean thighs. He laughed. "Throbbing `n' drooling, Twin, throbbing `n' drooling!" Later, lying on the bed propped against the headboard Ben, sandwiched between his two cousins, felt a little better. Ben was holding Rick's iPad for all three to view. As might be expected the earlier session had generated incredible responses. The live session seemed to have encouraged in the viewers a real sense of `being there', a presence in the room, and there were shedloads of excited comments. This caused much amusement for the twins, and a more ambivalent feeling for Ben. "Hey, look, Ben, there's a guy here offering cash for us to spank you – asking how much a spank! Great idea – ah, ah, Ben, no protests – think of the Uni fund!" Some horseplay. "OK, Ben, put a general reply up, say we like it, ask for expressions of interest". "Hey – look at this guy – he says he's got a farm out at Wantisford – got a barn set up as a dungeon – offering it to us! That's not so far from here, is it? P'haps we ought to take him up on his offer?! ... No, Ben, don't bother arguing, it ain't up to you, is it?" It was a relief when the twins finally allowed him to shut down the site and bed down, snuggled between them both. Scared to ask, but needing to know – "so what have your nasty minds got in store for me tomorrow, then? Too much to hope for asking for a day off, I suppose?" Rick laughed, slapping Ben's thigh. "Hey, steady on, dude, you haven't had a day on, yet!" "Seems like you've been going pretty hard at me so far," Ben suggested. Rad twisted round to poke Ben's hard mounded pec. "Better get used to it – get your head round being in proper `slave mode' from the get-go – we won't be putting up with any sass from you!" And that was all the comfort Ben was going to get! The sunlight woke the twins first, looking at Ben between them who, from the size of his morning wood, was having some incredible dream! They allowed a few moments of enjoyment – they knew they'd be driving him hard today! – before exchanging those telepathic glances – OK, shall we get him going? Yep, time to make him understand about slavery! Ben's pleasant reverie was interrupted brusquely with a sharp slap on his pert buttocks! Hardly had he had time to rub his eyes, before, "Right, Slave, you're gonna be working hard today, so no time to waste! Straight downstairs – get breakfast ready!" Ben rolled over to look up at his two masters. It was these swift role-changes he found so difficult! "Uh, S-Sirs? Can't I go to the loo first?" They were about to allow this perfectly reasonable request when a mischievous smirk crossed Rad's face. "Sure, Slave. Outside – you can go in the garden! Switch the cameras on when you get to the kitchen." Ben had to look to be sure – were they serious? Yes, they were – the firm stare on their faces said it all. Shit, looked like he was in for a hard day (he was!). A muttered "yes, Sirs", and Ben headed downstairs, the twins exchanging a triumphant grin behind his back. As a contrast, the twins took their time; Ben looked up as they entered the kitchen and it didn't help his equilibrium to see them carrying those fucking crops. At least, he thought, the coffee is on, and the table is laid, so I'm not in for any more grief yet. Poor Ben! He might not have been so hopeful if he'd been able to listen in on some of the conversations that the twins had had with Clive Peebles... "Really, dear boys, you're doing wonderfully well, wonderfully well. You've made great progress and now you have to keep that momentum going. How? Well, the main technique is not to let him achieve `equilibrium' for any length of time. As soon as he looks comfortable with what's going on, change it without warning, and tell him off if he can't cope with the change quickly enough – make it his fault when something goes wrong. "Similarly with the tasks you give him – if he's doing them well, tweak it so that it's more difficult, twist it so it's harder or more painful. Make it so that the tasks are only just possible – or even just impossible – to achieve. Put him in situations where failure is always looming – and then of course you can punish him justly for the failure. Make sure he's always in the wrong. "Keep him guessing, keep him jumpy. Give him some nice intimate times with you, and then snap him back into `slave mode' without warning. Keep turning the screw – not so hard that he becomes genuinely upset, but hard enough that he always feels unable to control what's going on. As your hold over him becomes more and more secure, see if you can push him until he becomes angry – and then he can't argue if you punish him for that as well. Try pushing him so hard that he actually rebels – but only do that if he's in a position where you can overpower him – don't ever let him `win' an argument. "But the key thing is, dear boys, whenever he looks as though he's achieved equilibrium, tip him off-balance again, and push him a teeny bit lower than before. Ask yourselves each night whether you've got him lower than the previous day. But truly, you're doing really well, boys, really well..." So although Ben might have hoped that the twins would be pleased to see their older naked jock cousin padding round the kitchen getting their breakfast ready, he was fazed by their deliberately-blank expressions. "Really, Benny," scolded Rad, "Don't you think a slave should acknowledge his masters' presence by some show of respect when they enter? Why aren't you on your knees? Or are you trying to be disrespectful?" Shit. So much for hoping `no more grief'. Ben sank hurriedly to his knees. "Uh, s-sorry, Sir, I-I didn't think, Sir, sorry, I-I'm truly not being rude." "Hmmm" mused Rad, clearly unconvinced. "Hands behind your neck, Benny, straight back, head up – c'mon," (tapping Ben's biceps with his crop) "elbows back and wide, knees wide – no –" (tapping the insides of Ben's thighs), "wider than that – c'mon – wider!" A neutral observer would have loved the sight of the splayed thighs, the bunched biceps, the taut abs – and most of all they'd have loved the anxious face looking up, the slave hoping that he was giving satisfaction. But the twins disguised their own gratification, Rad contenting himself with a simple nod, "That's a bit more like it – really, Benny, you should be thinking of these things yourself." "Uh, yes, Sir, s-sorry Sir." And he was left there while the twins poured some coffee and started serving themselves some food. Ben concentrated on trying to hold a position which started to ache after only a couple of minutes. What a fucking humiliating situation! And, yes, he could see one of the cameras recording it all. Oh, shit. Ben could feel his dick hardening. Why the fuck did this happen in these most shameful circumstances? And the viewers would see him getting hard. Shit. There would be yet more of those taunting comments from them about how he must be enjoying his slavery because of his constant erections. And yet that couldn't be true – it must be, Ben reasoned, because he hadn't had a proper cum recently. His reverie was interrupted. "OK, Benny, you can have breakfast now." "Thank you, Sir." Gratefully, Ben broke his aching pose, and hurried to the table. But, as he pulled out a chair, Rad halted him. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Ben looked at him, genuinely puzzled. "I-I thought you said I could have breakfast, Sir?" "And what on earth makes you think a slave is allowed to sit down at the same table as his masters." As Ben tried to process that, "Eat your breakfast on the fucking floor, dickbrain – do we have to do all your thinking for you? Eat it facing the camera. And because you're being so stupid, from now on, no utensils for you – eat it with your mouth straight from the bowl." Too much happening all at once. Too much to process. Ben stared open-mouthed. For a few seconds, the twins wondered whether the worm was about to turn; they leapt up, pulled Ben's wrists behind his back (who was too stunned to think of resisting), swiftly handcuffing them. Rad slapped Ben's cheek – hard. "Listen, Slave – are you trying to piss us off? Because if so, believe me, things can get a lot worse. Now, get down on that fucking floor!" They spun Ben to face the camera, kicked the back of his knees, pushed him on to all fours. A bowl of muesli with some milk splashed in was shoved in front of him. "Get goin' Benny. Perhaps you can get this right, without pissing us off. And so help me, if you leave any, it's goin' up your ass." Cowed, cuffed, Ben shuffled forward on his knees, buried his mouth in the bowl and slurped some of it in. Chewing away, he lifted his head to see that horrible camera recording every detail of his humiliation. He tried to look away, but the lens seemed to hold his gaze. He knew what a picture he must be presenting – an athletic body pushed into subservience. As he pondered – shit. He looked down – how could he possibly be hard now?! What the fuck was wrong with him?! Perhaps this is my rightful place after all, he wondered. Ben shook his head in denial, but his erection bobbed harder – he was interrupted by a kick on his buttock. "No hanging around, Benny, eat up quickly `cos you have plenty to do." Only when he'd finished was he uncuffed to clean his smeared mouth, and to clear up breakfast, before joining the twins upstairs. As he entered their bedroom he was struck again by their firm facial expressions; and a lifted eyebrow reminded him to – just too late – sink to the floor, wide-splayed knees and elbows. "You should be thinking of these things yourself, Benny – you're pissing us off," warned Rad. "But we're gonna give you another chance to show you can live up to your promises. Into the ensuite." `What now', Ben wondered resignedly, but obediently followed them in, noticing that those damn cameras had been set up, in two opposing corners. "I'm sure you'd accept that your behaviour on your first full day as a slave hasn't exactly been impressive, Benny. But you lost the bet fair and square, so no doubt you're looking for a chance to prove to us that you're better than that." Rad paused expectantly. "Uh, yes, of course, Sir," Ben mumbled unconvincingly. "OK then – there's all the cleaning stuff in the shower. You are gonna make sure this ensuite is spotless – got that?" Rad emphasised with a finger jabbing into Ben's solid pec. "Spotless! You don't leave this room until you can come and tell us that it's spotless... Any questions?" Well, Ben had a load of questions, starting with why the hell he had to do cleaning when they had a perfectly good cleaner come and do the house for them – but there was a hardness in Rad's glare that made it clear that this wasn't the right time. Ben's gaze dropped. "Uh, n-no, Sir, no questions." "Great – we'll be in the pool." Ben felt light-headed with the speed of events, and stood for a moment staring. He felt he shouldn't just tamely start the skivvy job of cleaning, but didn't know what else to do – the cameras were recording beautifully his perplexity and indecision. But Ben's `jock values' forced him to accept that he had taken on a bet, lost it, and now had to man up and accept the consequences, however unpleasant. He sighed, grabbed a cloth and a cleaning spray. As he worked away, Ben could hear the twins splashing in the pool, and he swung between resentment and a strange feeling that he deserved this – he was in his rightful place; he shook his head in puzzlement, and carried on cleaning, perspiring gently in the warm air. The cameras recorded the wonderful sight of his humiliation, a hot-bod jock, muscles gleaming, subjected to this degrading task... At last, at last, Ben got up off his knees and surveyed the room. It was gleaming! He was willing to bet it hadn't looked as good as this since it was new! He felt a strange flush of pride that he'd done it so well – pride that he'd done a slave-task well, pleased that his masters would be pleased with him. He hoped. He tidied the cleaning materials away, and joyfully leapt down the stairs, outside to the pool, where the twins were sunning themselves on floating lilos. Ben was proud of himself for remembering to drop to his knees and put his hands behind his neck, and was pleased that the twins were going to be pleased with him. They looked up. "Yes, Benny?" "Uh, I've finished, Sir". "Is it spotless?" "Yeah, Sir, it's perfect – wait til you see it!" "Just to be quite clear, Benny, you're telling us that everything in that room is spotless – you've remembered that this is your test to show you're up to the challenge, and you're in for a shitload of punishment if you get this wrong?" Well, Ben didn't like the sound of that, but he knew he'd worked hard, and the place looked great. "Yeah, honestly, Sir", he pleaded. "Come `n' look." The twins looked at each other, shrugged, headed for the house each wrapped in a towel, Ben following meekly. Going through the bedroom, they put Ben back in handcuffs – and it was a telling indication of the state of the relationship that he gave no resistance at all as they did so, before they pushed him to his knees in the ensuite. The ensuite was certainly gleaming – but if the twins were delighted, they hid their feelings well. A bizarre act from Rad – he tore off a piece of toilet paper. Astonished, Ben watched as he wiped the paper along the architrave on the top of the door – then shoved it under Ben's nose. "Yes or no – is that spotless?" Ben looked down. Well, he hadn't thought to clean there, so of course the paper was smeared with dust and dirt. Shit. "Uh, no, Sir." Rad threw the paper down. Rick opened the cupboard under the sink and ran a piece of paper round the U-bend, held it up to Ben. "Spotless – yes or no?" Oh, shit. "No, Sir." Rad opened the cabinet, ran a piece of paper along the back of the shelf, picking up the dust. Ben had to admit that wasn't spotless either. Above the door was an electric bar heater. Rick ran some toilet paper over the top of it – filthy. Rad lifted the shiny toilet seat, and rubbed the underneath of the toilet rim with some paper – gross. Now there were five pieces of toilet paper in front of Ben, each one a testament to his failure. "Benny, did you say this room was spotless – yes or no?" Oh shit. Ben could tell where this was going. "Yes, Sir." "Are these pieces of paper clean?" "Uh, no, Sir." "So this room isn't spotless, is it?" Shit, shit. "No, Sir." "So you didn't tell us the truth – yes or no." Oh fuck. Ben looked up desperately. "Please, Sir – aaaggh!" Ben squealed and rubbed his left thigh with his cuffed hand where Rad had just hit it with his crop – hard! Fuck that was hard! How could just one hit hurt so much?! Ben rubbed his thigh muscle vigorously in an attempt to rub away the pain. "Do what you're fucking told – answer the question – did you tell us the truth – yes or no." Ben's whole torso sagged in defeat. "No, Sir," he whispered. Rad scowled, looming over him menacingly... ============================================================ As stated before, this is a `slow-developer' story planned over a number of episodes, detailing Ben's gradual but inevitable descent into painful subservience and humiliation, so won't be to everyone's tastes. All the normal caveats apply regarding fantasy versus reality – for instance some of the practices described would NOT be safe in real life. Similarly, in real life, if we are lucky enough to come across good bdsm playmates, we should value and respect them – they are not always that easy to find! As always, Nifty can do with donations: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html if you enjoy the service and want it to continue! Thank you for the encouraging comments received so far (which act as a very good stimulus to continue what is proving to be a time-consuming activity!). In particular, thank you to Harry for his invaluable imagination and advice. Thank you also to those who are providing pix and vid-links to relevant material – it's a most helpful impetus to keep the story going! I hope you enjoy this episode! StrictSafeTop sst@linuxmail.org This story is fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or living persons is coincidental. Personal experiences, from images to events, memories and words, flavour my writing, and while elements of this story may be (and often are) based in fact, the characters are entirely fictional. Unprotected sex is depicted. In real life, be safe! Don't gamble. If it is illegal for you to read this story because of your age, location or any other reason, don't read it. This work is copyright by the author. Commercial use without permission is prohibited. Please do not republish any of this story without consent of the author.