As a little kid, numerous things aroused my curiosity. The severe mental retardation of my older brother Louie was one of them. It never lost its power to captivate me. It was a perpetual source of fascination.

We shared the same bedroom. Louie often confined himself there. I’d join him and spend long moments just looking at the impassive boy. My sibling’s silence was like a secret code I’d been given the mission to crack. I tried to communicate with him using gestures or sounds. He always ignored me.

Too young to comprehend Louie’s detachment, the unsuccessful attempts to connect with him didn’t diminish my fervor. Logic compelled me to find an explanation for his absence of brain functions. When I couldn’t find one, I pretended he came from a distant galaxy, a constellation of stars where children were only endowed with the capacity to groan.

Louie’s inabilities were diverse. He wandered in our suburban house, got lost and started to weep. Unable to register the basics of toilet training, he had to wear an oversized diaper like a big baby. Those humiliations weighed heavily on my heart since I thought he was aware of his disability.

Despite the six years age difference and a delicate constitution, I never worried about my physical safety. Most of the time, Louie sat on the floor, rocking back and forth, eyes screwed on the ceiling. His chest advanced and retreated at a sustained pace, like a metronome. Lines of drool trickled from the corners of his lips. Suddenly without reason, he thought himself a seagull and stretched his arms out to fly.

If the handicap of Louie prevented him from being more than a decoration in my life, the fraternal bond between us remained intact. On the couch, he snuggled against me. His hugs were a silent testimony of his affection. I cherished the hope that he would become normal one day, a real big brother.

* * *

   Of course, Louie’s pubertal years were more tumultuous than for any regular teenager. His unpredictable behavior exhausted us all. He broke things and threw food at the wall at dinner time. It seemed to me my big brother was hell bent on destroying everything in retaliation for his condition. I began to fear him. Things only worsened with time.

At sixteen, Louie stopped tolerating any type of clothing, not even his diaper. He strolled naked in the house. Being ten-years-old, the sight of his gangly exposed body troubled me. Especially since we had similar physical traits; short brown hair, a slim figure and pale skin.

The constant display of his nudity forced me to envisage the ugly physical changes awaiting me. My eyes lingered on the hairs under his armpits, the ones escalating up his calves and the pubic tuft under which dangled a long plump penis that my mother had convinced a doctor to circumcise, worried of hygiene issues.

Without shame and without inhibitions, Louie pissed and took a dump everywhere in the house. As soon as his dick stood up, he masturbated furiously, bellowing with joy. His inappropriate conduct shocked my mother and father who were determined to preserve my innocence. A trivial concern, since at ten-years-old, I had already discovered how to play with my pickle and knew the mechanics of making babies.

“Go to your room, your brother is having a fit,” they said on those occasions. “Go on, now!”

“It’s okay,” I retorted. “I’m used to it!”

Regardless of my open-mindedness, mom and dad opted to acquire an official pair of handcuffs from the local police service. From then on, Louie could not remove his diaper and beat off anymore. He staggered around in a circle, his wrists secured behind his back by the metal bracelets.

This situation saddened me. However, I had regained some sense of safety.

It was at that time that dad chose to abandon our family. I probably would have fled too having had the chance. After his departure, I split the chore of monitoring Louie with my mother. She kept an eye on him while I attended school. Then, she worked nights in a factory to cover the financial shortfall of public assistance. As a result, I found myself alone with the disorderly teenager every evening of the week.

Judging that at ten-years-old I could do the required tasks, mom called upon me to spoon feed Louie, change his diaper and give him a bath. Those were obligations easily achievable now that he was handcuffed.

I performed the deeds conscientiously. My favorite was bath time. I took off Louie’s diaper and helped him lie in the tub filled with sudsy water. “I'm gonna scrub you real good! You'll be clean as a whistle and smell really nice!” I used to tell him.

Louie relaxed and finally forgot about struggling with his handcuffs. I stripped naked and jumped with my brother in the tub. Our ablutions gave me the opportunity to touch his mature body. My hands wielded the soap from his ears to his toes. I did not omit a crack or a fold of the lanky adolescent. The intimate manipulations turned me on.

When I washed Louie’s testicles, his penis reacted immediately. The plump wiener rose and lengthened rapidly to full mast. Compared to my small stick, my big brother’s seven-inch cock impressed me. The head was firm and the size of a golf ball. I wrapped my fingers around the vibrant piece of flesh. I loved to feel the brute force of the engorged member. “Oooh, that's very hard!” I’d say. “You need to jerk off, uh?”

Although Louie could not consent, I slid my hand on the hard meat, glad to grant him this favor. His guttural moans transformed gradually into lascivious sighs. I pulled on his cock, looking at the fluid ooze from the tip. Louie shut his eyes. His face wrenched in grimaces of pleasure. Rubbing my soapy little hand on the circumcised knob, I assessed his level of excitement. “Almost there, you want some more? Yes, you like this…” I said, tightening my grip and pulling faster until the powerful spurts of teenage cream flew up in the air.

After the fun of seeing his cum shoot out, the abundance of baby making juice irked me because it mated Louie’s pubic hair or adhered to the sides of the tub. For this reason, I brilliantly came up with the idea of collecting the sauce in my mouth. Lips stretched around my brother’s erection, I sucked him off to the best of my reduced abilities. My small mouth could not engulf his entire erection. I compensated with dedication and a frisky tongue. This pleased Louie a lot. He drooled and barked like a seal. He climaxed quicker.

When the explosions began, I squeezed my lips around the glans to capture all of the slimy spunk. Then, I dashed out of the tub to spit the load in the sink. Again, out of laziness, I eventually elected to swallow the mouthful of cum, repressing my repugnance. After all, only one big gulp was required to get rid of it.

Once my brother floated peacefully on the clouds of afterglow, it was my turn to play naughty naked games. I rubbed my stiffy on his wet body. In my head, milking his cock was the perviest thing imaginable. And because Louie could not speak, I would never be scolded for it. This immunity added to my lust.

Feeling the pleasure peak, I grabbed my boner and pulled on it frantically. A small cry escaped my lips when the convulsions of a prepubescent orgasm made me shudder and momentarily lose touch with reality. It gave me the impression of, somehow, entering into communion with my brother. During this fleeting moment, I became as mad as he was.

* * *

   Over time, the appeal of taboo contacts with Louie faded. I stopped taking care of his sexual needs. The teenager reminded me in his own way that he was sixteen and that his libido was a bottomless pit of hormonal magma. Every evening, he followed me around the house, a full erection tenting the front of his diaper. He bumped against me and growled, “Orhh orhh orhhh!”

I rejected his advances, shoving him away, "Leave me alone, retard!"

Louie yelled to get my attention back. His eyes grew dark with hatred. Fortunately, the handcuffs restrained his arms otherwise he surely would have attacked me.

Despite my obvious disinterest, Louie persisted in harassing me every evening. I had created a monster, my own Frankenstein. Exasperated by his insistence, I became increasingly sadistic. The power to oppress the defenceless simpleton rose to my head. I whipped him with laces of licorice until he rolled into a ball. I peed on him. Whenever I discovered a turd in his diaper, I popped a chunk in his mouth, knowing that he consumed everything we put into it.

“Here’s some chocolate for you!”

Louie chewed and swallowed. The sight of his brown teeth made me chuckle.

Sometimes, I invited some classmates over into my hellish world. For the price of a buck, they could meet the possessed entity.

“Come one, come all! The freak show will begin!”
  
The curious kids gathered around my brother sitting in his diaper on the floor. They examined Louie at safe distance. The amorphous teenager did not even notice their presence. “He’s a vegetable!” the meanest kids commented.

I kicked my brother in the ribs to wake him up. Stung out of his trance, Louie got up on his long bare feet. He started to chase the attendees. Frightened kids ran in all directions. Even though Louie was handcuffed, they shrieked when he approached towards them grunting like a caveman. The anarchy I had caused amused me.

Louie hunted the visitors for a while. Then, he stopped abruptly. His blank eyes sought in the emptiness of air the reason of his anger.

My school mates went home, still terrified and amazed by the courage I demonstrated living in the same house as a ferocious beast. This diversion succeeded in making me forget, for a brief moment, that I was a lonely and depressed little boy.

* * *

   Louie’s rage manifested itself at its strongest during our bath. He got a hard-on, squirmed and drooled profusely. The association between the warm water and my sexual services was imprinted on his bird brain. I had emptied his balls in the tub with my hand or my mouth so many times.

Having lost interest in sex play, this chore nauseated me as much as wiping his ass. The more weeks passed, the more Louie clamored for his pleasure. I no longer knew how to calm him down. I was just a ten-year-old kid, not a specialist in severe cases. Louie’s yowling resounded in my head. With both hands on my ears, it still got through.

After several unpleasant evenings of chaotic bath time, I cracked up. The burden of responsibility on my frail shoulders became too heavy. Curled up naked in the tub between my big brother’s long hairy legs, I sobbed, overwhelmed by my misery. Only one thing came to my mind, releasing him. My mother had forbid me repeatedly to unlock Louie’s handcuffs. But I couldn’t figure out any other alternatives to shut him up.

With tears rolling on my face, I hopped out of the tub to the get the key and came back. Freed from the metal constraints, Louie’s hand seized his erection. He began to masturbate, gasping from the blissful surge of physical delights. His emaciated fist moved at breakneck speed on his cock. Within a couple of minutes, it vomited thick jets of sperm. I quickly put the handcuffs back around his wrists, comforted in seeing him contented with a silly smirk of satisfaction on his lips.

This solution proved to be the right one and accommodated us both. Then one evening, instead of going for his cock, Louie grabbed my arm. I did not give it much thought at first and continued to play with my favorite plastic boat in the tub. He pulled harder and shook me. “Let go, Louie. Don’t do that,” I said absent-minded.

The indifferent teenager pursued his rough handling. My heart sped up. “NO, Louie!” I shouted, this time wriggling and kicking. In my attempt to flee, my skinny body flipped over. Louie climbed on my shoulders, dragging me under the surface. It was only then that I realized the gravity of my predicament. I could not breathe. Louie’s weight was pinning me down in the water.

Overtaken by panic, I deployed my weak muscles. My brother did not budge. While he held me under the surface, the bloated head of his rigid penis darted between my buttocks, getting dangerously close to my anus. The next second, the sharp pain of penetration paralyzed me. Louie’s big cock plunged straight into my guts and began to plow right away. I trashed wildly, barely managing to pull my chest out of the water.

“Stop, Louie! Noo! It hurts!” I shouted.

It was already too late. The savage teen was pumping my little butt with such ardor that waves rippled from one end of the bathtub to the other. He pressed hard on my shoulders as he sodomised me. My chin bumped on the bottom the tub and remained there for long seconds. Everything seemed to lead me to a single eventuality. I was going to be drowned by my own brother!

As one of his solid lunges propelled me forward, I absorbed a breath of fresh air and cried out, “Louie! Stop! Annghh! Louie!”

Lamentations of the desperate, thinking that for once, the deficient adolescent could understand the meaning of my shrill protestations. Louis’s cock returned relentlessly in my rectum. The atrocious thrusts of hard and hot flesh made me dizzy. My anus was stretched wide and burning. Insults that my classmates threw at the least manly boys haunted me, as if they were there in the bathroom pointing the finger at me. “Look at him, look at the faggot!”

Shame stung my eyes. Through the fog of tears, I could see my small hands reach for the edge of the bathtub. Louie dragged me back in the water, continuing to slam his cock in my butt. I wasted the last of my energy trying to escape the crazed teen to no avail. His hands were clenching my shoulders so tightly. His fingernails were scratching my skin. Just as I resigned myself to my fate, the aggression took an even more violent turn. Louie clutched a fistful of my hair. He yanked my head back, seemingly wanting to tear it off while he assaulted me. His boorish grunts echoed in my ears.

“Orgh! Orgh! Orgh!”

“Aooooow, aoooooww, it hurts!” I let out a slew of plaintive whines. “Stop, Louuuiiie! It hurts!”

Suddenly, voluptuous shivers caught me off guard. My legs tensed up under my brother. The pleasure I was feeling seemed multiplied tenfold from the ruthless spearing of Louie’s cock. I recognized what was happening. The delicious surges of my climax radiated from my anus to the tip of my penis.

I squirmed once my orgasm ended. I wanted my rabid brother out of me. Louie ceased his pumping. Perched on my kidneys he forced me to undergo another outrage, receive his wads of hot cum directly into my bowel.

When he finally pulled out, I jumped on the toilet seat. My whole body was trembling. Devastated by the barbarity of rape, I hurried to drain myself of the horrible teenage juice. Each expulsion out of my sore anus brought fresh tears to my eyes. While I agonized on the toilet seat, Louie watched his cock deflate in the tub. His face glowed with an expression of relief and that silly smirk of satisfaction.

* * *

   For a few days, the desire to break the silence gnawed my guts. At the breakfast table, I glanced at my mother, looking for words to describe the ferocious assault of my brother. My tongue itched to spill the beans. “Mom,” I started to say.  Pride nailed my mouth shut. I was a big boy now. I couldn’t give her more grief than she already had.

That week I reinstituted my routine of sucking Louie’s cock, accepting to become his sex slave. Leaning between his thighs, I slid my lips hastily on his erection. Louie crossed his legs around my slim waist, keeping me prisoner until I finished the job. He looked more and more like a zombie with his unruly long hair, sunken eyes and hollow cheeks. I relieved him expeditiously, swallowed his cum and went back on the couch to continue watching television.

Being violated by my sixteen-year-old brother had rattled me. But I couldn’t deny that the unbridled teen had also triggered delights of an astonishing intensity. Naively, I interpreted Louie’s primary impulses as an expression of fraternal love. I even considered that it could be common. Perhaps all big brothers put their dicks in the butt of their little brothers?

At school, the memories of the bath tub aggression invited themselves in my daydreaming. My little penis stiffened in my underoos. Gradually, the idea of providing to my big brother what seemed to bring him the most happiness made its way into my confused head. Despite the potential violence of the maniac, I thought I would be able to subdue him, to harness his anarchic sexual flare-ups.

Soon I began to perform experiments. My adrenaline flowed as if I was about to parachute out of a plane. In preparation for the incestuous antics, I emptied my intestines and remained naked. When Louie exhibited signs of sexual excitement, I unsnapped his diaper and lubed his cock with cooking oil.

The next steps involved some danger. As soon as I took off his handcuffs, a window of merely seconds was available to me in order to leap on the couch and cling to the cushion before the tornado. My brother pounced and mounted me from behind like an animal in heat. “Orgghhh! Orghhh!” he roared, foaming at the mouth.

I gritted my teeth feeling his big hard-on plunge into my tight hole. Louie initiated a brisk coitus immediately.

“Slower, Louie,” I tried to tame the beast. “Calm down, Aargh! Louie! Slower, slower!”

The frantic teen did not hear me. He continued to sodomise me with equal enthusiasm. I focused on releasing the tension, wishing to enjoy the feel of his cock stabbing in my small behind. To my dismay, Louie overheated around the fourth minute. At the exact moment I began to abandon myself.

“Orgh! Orgh!” he growled and ejaculated in my butt.

Disappointed, I relied on masturbation to get my prepubescent fix.

Eventually, I discovered that if I jerked Louie off early in the evening, he could stay inside me longer subsequently, at least fifteen minutes. This allowed me to overcome the pain and savor the feeling of getting it in the butt. Naked on my knees, toes curled up and my willy stiff, I kept my tail high up for my brother to use as he pleased. Contrary to his custom, Louie did not lose interest in this activity. His hands stayed on my hips, holding me in place. He copulated steadily albeit in a bestial manner, groaning and grunting, mouth wide open.

“Uhh yesss Louie,” I encouraged him. “It feels so good, uhh, uhh, do it, yesss…”

It may seem that I was a totally debauched child. It is far from the truth. Many weeks passed before the hankering to be mounted again returned. I also felt shameful using that part of my body for something else than its primary function, pooping.

I only gave my butt to my brother on the evenings I was perfectly disposed to be dominated. This state rarely occurred. When it did, the craving for it didn’t go away. My hole twitched just thinking about it. I couldn’t help myself. I removed Louie’s handcuffs even though I knew I was going to pay the price later. The brutal fuck sessions sometimes dragged on for more than thirty minutes and dilated my pucker fully.

Usually, halfway into the rutting, Louie sank deeply into me. He crammed all seven inches in my rectum. The extension of my anal ring around the broad base of his erection made me whimper. Louie was still far from the goal but already impatient to cum. He fucked me hard, without holding back. I heard his balls slap my butt. *flop* *flop* *flop* *flop*

It was at that point, when he pounded my small ass with the full length of his cock, that my pleasure soared. I couldn’t do anything to stop him and didn’t know how long it would last. This combination excited me.

“Ohhh, Louie! Uhhh uhh yess” I cried out between a series squeals.
 
“Orrgh! Orggh! Orgghh!” Louie grunted with every thrust.
 
At ten-years-old, I was on the skinny side and weighed sixty pounds. My brother’s fury ravaged me. I collapsed on my stomach. My short legs stuck out from underneath him. Louie bounced on my butt for a good while. I squeaked like a crushed mouse the whole time.

In the end, his cock swelled spurting cum into my guts. I got an anal orgasm, a minute of raw ecstasy. Tears of joy rolled on my cheeks and my little balls contracted so much that I thought they would implode.

* * *

   The following months, Louie’s mood swings were a nightmare. My mother and I couldn’t provide care to him without getting bitten. Louie also began to self-mutilate and bang his head against the wall. For his sake, mom decided to place him in an institution.

Overnight, the house became silent. I experienced some sort of rebirth. After ten years of reclusion, I could now be free and take on the outside world. This long journey into the heart of dementia had made me mature and humble. I kindled friendships easily with boys my age. My soccer coach praised my resilience. Mr. Lawrence, my teacher, agreed to give me private lessons so that I could catch up.

They all said I was a good boy, especially when they were fucking me.

 The End.
                       
Previous Works

A Precocious Debauchery