Date: Fri, 18 Aug 2017 14:33:50 -0400
From: Orson Cadell <orson.cadell@gmail.com>
Subject: Maybe Next Time 1

This story and its characters are fiction and based on no one outside my
head. If any character resembles you or someone you know, I WANT DETAILS,
you lucky fucker, preferably with photos! It is, of course, copyrighted by
the author with all rights reserved and very, very negotiable. Do not
repost without permission Also, keep the cum coming -- Donate to Nifty
**TODAY** at donate.nifty.org/donate.html! I'm an old guy. I know what it
was like when you had to BUY porn. Five miles uphill both ways in the snow
just to GET to the XXX store. You whippersnapper don't know how good you've
got it.

This involves sex between male teens and between teens and adult males; if
that is illegal for who/where you may be right now, GO AWAY! Get thee to a
monastery (where you might just find scenes similar to some below). Also,
please note that all my stories exist in a world where STDs are neither
common nor deadly. Don't be an idiot; use protection. 'To die for' sex
should never lead to your actual death.

Feedback from readers is important to me, but if you get off on flaming
people, please know that you will HATE the results. I will read your
missive and weave you and your comments into the nasty parts of my next
story to the point that you cry like a little girl. Bullies get as bullies
give.

*****

Maybe Next Time 1:

By Bear Pup

Special Note: This story involves intense bullying, humiliation and
consensual but extremely exploitative sex between teenaged brothers and
other abusive men. If you've read other of my series, you might expect this
to be a love story of sorts. It is basically the opposite. If that is not
your brand of rum, try another story, please.

*****

Maybe Next Time. I've spent a lot of time thinking about that phrase, the
mantra of my life. Maybe next time will be better. Maybe the next guy will
treat me right. As part of my therapy (are there really people who are
*not* in therapy?), the doc has suggested I go back to the first time I
really thought that. Write it all out. 'Drain the poison' as she puts it.

I guess I was 13. Must have been since Tyler was 16. The *three*-year gap
is important because it was the utterly-bizarre reason that I got one
*third* of our room. I got one third of the drawers in the dilapidated
dresser, one third of the shelves on the bookcase, one third of the desk,
one third of the closet. There was a literal line (duct tape) measured
precisely a few years earlier the delineated my one third from Tyler's two
thirds.

I was a late bloomer. I got my first pubes when I was 12 and didn't know
about jacking off until I had my first wet dream six or eight months
later. I'd caught Tyler 'at it' frequently but he never explained and
threatened to gut me if I said anything, so I let it drop.

So, one night, maybe three months after the first time I came, I waited
until I was sure Tyler was asleep and very quietly started to yank one
out. I had just gotten into it a little when Tyler's light came on. "Jesus,
jackass, don't you even know how to jerk off?"

I froze, petrified, my probably-four-inch stiffy in my fist mid-wank, eyes
wide. "Fuck. Just get over here. I'm tired of listening to you screw up the
most basic part of being a guy." I sheepishly got up, FTLs around my ankles
and t-shirt tucked behind my neck, and duck-walked shakily to Tyler's
bed. The concept of telling Tyler 'no' or even hesitating had been beaten
out of me many years earlier. "SIT!" I sat.

Tyler threw back his covers and pulled out his own schlong. To me, it
looked like a third leg! In retrospect, it was probably a bit under six
inches and average thickness. The whole crotch area was covered in thick,
trimmed hair; he was rock-hard and his cockhead was wet and shiny (I didn't
know about pre-cum). He reached over and grabbed a small bottle from
between his mattress and the wall. "Hold out your hand!"

He squeezed a dollop of the clear, slimy liquid into my palm. "Gently grab
my cock." Say what? Me? Grab his.... that? I froze again and he growled,
"Do it you little shit, so I can show you how this fucking works."

I reached out and took hold of the silky-smooth hardness, amazed at the
power and heat inside it. "A little tither. Now go up and down. Good. When
you get to the head, diddle it a little." Diddle? What the fuck was diddle?
I played around the head and apparently that was right, as Tyler
moaned. "God, your hands are soft. That feels fantastic. Now, up and
down. A little faster. Tighter, NO! Not that tight you asshole; don't
squeeze it off! Yeah, yeah, yeah. That's good. Keep going."

This went one for a few minutes as he coached me on how to jack him
off. I'd never heard of lube, never used full, long strokes, never done
anything. This was a real education, perhaps one of the first things my
brother ever taught me. His breathing got short and I watched his (to me)
massive nuts slowly pull upwards.

"Okay," he spoke a little breathlessly. "Now watch close. Closer. Get your
face right over it cuz this part is important. That's right, now keep
going." Suddenly I felt his big paw on the back of my head holding me in
place and it dawned on my what was about to happen. Pulling away was
physically impossible and Tyler began to grunt and cuss as WHAM, the first
shot caught me in my right eye. I squealed but Tyler held me fast, painting
my whole face with his load.

When he stopped cumming, he let go of my head and I pulled back, wiping my
eyes. Just as I opened them, there was a bright flash and then another and
another. As my stinging eyes cleared, I saw Tyler smirking, his iPhone in
his hand. The light was now on showing he'd changed from photos to video
and I started to cry. "Shut the fuck up and lick your lips. Lick that cum
up. Taste it! DO IT, fucker, or I'll beat the crap out of you." I let my
tongue out and swiped through the slime on my lips. I wanted to scream, to
puke, to kill him (not the first or last time).

"Kay. Now wipe some off your face with your hand, as much of my cum as you
can get. Good. Now jack off just like you did me. That's right, you little
prick, jack off with your face covering my cum, and use my cum as
lube. Yeah, bitch. Faster. Faster. Do it!" I was 13 and had just jacked my
brother to orgasm and now was, for the first time, getting a full
masturbatory experience. Shame and rage and disgust were no match for
hormones and I shot hard, letting out pathetic little yelps as I blasted my
watery mix onto my chest.

I wasn't even through shooting when his big hand pushed hard on my chest
and I landed on my ass, still spasming. "Get your fucking cum-soaked face
to your own side of the room, you little bitch. Oh, and one word, one TOE
out of line, and I'll post the video of you jacking off using my cum, your
face covered with my load. I might just make it a YouTube channel. Face it
Kyle, you're my bitch now.  Don't forget it." He switched off his light and
turned over, laughed a little and went to sleep.

I crawled back to my own bed and used my socks (my usual cumrag of choice)
to clean up as much as I could. I couldn't get it out of my nose, though,
and I could still taste it on my lips. I cried myself to sleep with the
smell of Tyler's load, my humiliation, coming in with every shuddering
breath. My only thought was, 'Maybe next time it will be better.'

I have to admit, Tyler knew what he was doing. For the next four days, he
made sure I could hear him jack off, often vocally if Pops was out, several
times a day (it was spring break). But he also made damned sure I was never
alone long enough to drop my own load, and his caustic and belittling
comments if I tried at night prevented any release.

By Friday, I was desperate. Tyler was laying on his bed, naked and hard and
I was about at my wit's end. I decided to man up and try a direct
approach. "T-T-Tyler? Can I use, um, some of your lube?"

He looked up at me and smiled, "I was wondering when you get the balls to
ask. Sure. Come get it." Really? Oh, God, could it be that easy? He was
just making me ask? I went over and stood by his bed, not wanting to reach
over him to the place he had it tucked next to the wall.

"Um, can you hand it to me?"

"What are you talking about, bitch?"

"Um, the lube? You said I could, um...?"

He got a contemptuous smirk on his face. "The only lube you get to use from
now on is the one you started with asswipe. And you better ask nicely or
you may never cum again." I stared at him in confusion until it dawned on
me. If I wanted to get off, I had to debase myself enough to *ask* to jack
off my brother.

"C-C-C-C-Can I have some lube to j-j-jack you off with?" I was close to
tears, but also close to having my balls explode.

"Try again, bitch, with some respect. Or I can make you beg for it, your
choice?"

"Tyler, can I please have some lube to jack you off... um, sir?"

Tyler stretched back languidly and pulled the bottle out. I held out my
palm and he snorted in derision, squeezing it directly only his throbbing
prick.

I could feel the prickles of tears at the corners of my eyes as I jacked
him. Anything I did wrong, including not guessing what he wanted next, got
me a head-slap or hair-pull. As I felt him getting close, he grunted,
"Where the fuck is your face supposed to be, bitch?" The final humiliation,
the ultimate degradation. I leaned forward, now letting the tears flow as
his howled in joy and victory and painted my face again with his load.

"Lick as much as you can reach with your tongue and swallow it, Kyle, every
bit." I did and he growled, "Now get your cum-face to your own fucking bed
and do what you gotta do. But don't bother me with it or you'll be a sorry
bitch indeed."

I groped my way to my own bed and flopped backwards, scraping his cum off
and jacking furiously. I clamped down on my voice as I came and realized,
horrified, that I was still hard. I'd never been so hard. Some part of
me... relished the treatment I was getting. When Tyler saw me start jacking
again almost immediately after cumming, he walked out, "What a fucking
pussy." I jacked a total of four loads out over the next hour, my cum
mixing with Tyler's, the scent of both coming into me with every
breath. 'Maybe next time, if I'm really nice to him, he'll let me do it
without making me... do things?'

He made me jack him off, cumming in my face each time, at least each
morning and night, sometimes more if he felt like it. He bragged that he
hadn't had to touch his own dick except to piss in two weeks. He did,
though, let me jack off at least once per day, but made it as humiliating
as possible and often took video as 'bitch insurance'

Tyler went out the next Friday night with a girl named Toni. He came home
as mad as I've ever seen him. Slamming cabinets and cussing when his
favorite snack wasn't there. I hid in the room as per usual when he was in
a rage. He came in a little later and slammed the door behind him. "That
fucking bitch promised to blow me. She got me all hot and then laughed and
walked off. FUCKING BITCH! Kyle!" I jumped. "Get your bitch ass over here."

Tyler already had his pants around his ankles and stripped off his
shirt. His musk was strong and potent. He pulled out the lube and looked at
it. "FUCK! Another goddamned hand job. FUCK!" He squeezed a dollop on his
cock and said, "Get to work. He threw his arm across his face and started
calling me Toni as I jacked him off. It seemed to take forever and finally
he sat up. "FUCK! I was promised a blow job."

I saw the look in his eye too late. He grabbed the back of my head and
said, "And I'm gonna GET a fucking blow job. Open up, Kyle." I stared at
him and he slapped my face hard enough that I howled. "Open your fucking
mouth!" I did and he pulled me down until I was eye to 'eye' with his
trouser snake.

"Lick it." I did. "Now take the head in. Lick around. Yeah, oh yeah, like
that. Take it deeper, Kyle, I said DEEPER, bitch." His hands were now on
either side of my face, guiding me on and off his cock. "OUCH! FUCK!" He
slapped me so hard I flew off his dick and onto the floor and started to
cry. "Watch the teeth you fucking little shit. Now get back up here."

I cried through the rest of it, but learned not to let me teeth near his
cock. He kept my face moving, never going deep but making sure I used my
tongue constantly as he moaned and cussed above me. He froze suddenly and I
tried to pull off, knowing what was coming -- or cumming. He locked me in
place as I struggled, desperate not to take what he was determined to give.

His first shot shocked me and I snorted some of it out my nose. "No fucking
way, bitch." He reached down and pinched my nose shut as his orgasm hit in
earnest, screaming in exultation as I was forced to swallow over and over,
knowing it was the only way I'd be allowed to breathe again. Tyler was 100%
capable of letting me literally choke to death on his cock and we both knew
it.

"Stop swallowing!" He let go of my nose and I sucked in a breath, then
another as his last few spurts collected in my mouth. "Open your mouth and
let me see." I did, weeping now in humiliation. I knew his sticky,
disgusting slime was coating my throat and pooling on my tongue. Tyler
smiled wickedly. "I'll bet you are hard as a rock, bitch. Pull your cock
out." I did; he was right. I was railed hard.

"Spit my Bitch-lube into your hand and jack off with it. I want to see you
blow using your own spit filled with my cum. Do it, bitch. Cum for me." I
did, debased beyond my endurance, weeping openly as I came. "Now thank me,
bitch." I looked up and could see the glint of violence in his eyes.

"Th-Th-Th-Thank you?"

He slapped me, not hard but shocking me.

"MEAN IT!"

"Thank you, Tyler!"

"For what. Be specific." Huh? My head spun from the chocking, the
cum-swallowing, my own reluctant orgasm and the slaps.

"Um, uh, um... Thank for you letting me cum?" Slap! "OW! Um, I'm
s-sorry. Thank you for letting me use your cum for lu--" SLAP! "Agh! Um,
Thank you for letting me blow you? Please! Not again! Thank you, um, thank
you for letting me sw-sw-sw-swallow?"

"Sir?"

"Thank you for letting me swallow you c-c-c-cum, sir? Please?"

"Good. Now go clean yourself up. You reek."

I didn't even bother to pull up my pants. I just ran for the hall bath and
scrubbed myself over and over in the showers, thinking that maybe I could
wash off the taste, the humiliation and the pathetic way that I even
thanked him for doing that to me. I let the water wash away the tears as
well as the cum. Tyler was sound asleep when I got back to the room, but I
didn't really think much about that. As I came out of the bathroom, I
noticed light from under Pop's bedroom door. 'My God,' I thought, 'if he
knew I'd be on the street in seconds. What the fuck am I going to do? Or
maybe he'll stop Tyler?' I cried myself to sleep again, 'Maybe next time
Pops will stop it,' or at least, 'Maybe next time he won't slap me as
much.'

And, miracle of miracles, Tyler didn't. He made me blow him whenever Dad
was gone, but only walloped me if I scraped his dick or didn't jump
immediately when he told me to. He started making me strip 'so he could see
me down there and think it's a girl from behind.'

Friday rolled around again and I came in to find him naked in the room,
hard and grinning in a way that pumped ice into my veins. "I told my
friends how much head I'm getting now."

My face went white as a sheet and my mouth worked silently. If he'd told
even one person what he, what I... I'd die. I couldn't live like that. NO
ONE could know! Ever! The shock and subsequent panic attack were so
forceful I could feel vomit start in the back of my throat.

"Don't worry, bitch. I didn't mention you. You think I'm gonna let the guys
know I let a pussy-assed boy near my junk? No way. I told em I've got a
girl who did me whenever I asked. They don't believe me so today's gonna be
a little different."

Tyler pulled out a small gold tube and told me to strip and stand in front
of him. I did. He grabbed my neck and chin, locking my head in place and I
readied myself for a hard slap or even a punch, even though I couldn't
think of anything I'd done wrong. My heart stopped, appalled as I saw
something much, much worse. The gold tube was bright pinkish-red lipstick,
a whorish shade meant to be seen from blocks away. He roughly smeared it
all over my lips, using far more than anyone would for makeup.

"Blow me, bitch. And get those lips all the way down to my pubes this
time." The plan was simple. He'd be able to show the lipstick marks of *my*
blowjob to prove the existence of his non-existent girl. It felt something
inside me break, but I set to work. He was soon moaning and commenting on
the lipstick smears. As he approached climax though, he started saying
there was nothing on his pubes and got more and more pissed off that I
couldn't get there.

With no warning at all, he grabbed the back of my head with both hands and
slammed me down as he thrust up. His iron-hard cock barged past my gag
reflex and I started to choke and heave violently. My nose was buried in
his pubes and my lips were crushed against the base of hid dick.

Tyler screamed "FUCK YEAH!" as the retching did something amazing to the
cockhead lodged in my gullet and I felt his cock expand and his spunk
coating my spasming throat. I was near to blacking out when he finally
finished and pushed me backwards onto the floor. I drew a single, ragged
breath before I started to puke violently, sobbing and heaving. The only
salvation was that it was around six o'clock, so I hadn't eaten anything
since lunch. Most of what came up was phlegm and bile... and Tyler's
still-white and creamy load that had coated my gullet. Seeing that, feeling
it, tasting it again... I just wanted to die.

"Jesus, you fucking little asshole. What did you go and do that for? Clean
that shit up and get some air freshener in here." I ran for the bathroom
and finished puking until there was nothing left, just dry heaves. I tried
to take a sip of water but as soon as it hit the back of my throat, I puked
again.

I grabbed towels and ran in to clean up and saw Tyler on his phone, dressed
for an evening with the guys and texting. He never even looked up. "Air
freshener, bitch. And you forgot to thank me. You can do that later. Oh,
and leave the lipstick on. I'll take a repeat when I get back. And it
better smell good in here, too."

I didn't even get in my bed. I curled into a ball and sobbed until, like
the vomit, my eyes had nothing left to give. Not since Mom died (I was ten)
had I cried myself to dryness. And like the day after her funeral, I just
lay there, and empty husk. A long while later, I heard movement and a
bottle rattle, but paid no attention. About two hours after that, I heard
Tyler come in.

He kicked me. "It stinks in here. Fuck it. Get up here and do your job,
bitch." His words were slightly slurred. He wasn't wasted but had certainly
had something to drink. He kicked me again, this time pretty hard and I
clambered up to my very shaky arms and quivering legs. "Good. You got the
lipstick on. Makes you look like the whore you are, bitch." He wasn't even
all the way hard, but started thrusting into me immediately, his semi-soft
dick far more disgusting than his hard one had ever been.

I heard an immense BANG and a deep growl and Tyler's prick was brutally
yanked from my mouth. My eyes, as always when blowing my brother, were
clouded with tears but I made out the form of my bull-like Pops dragging
Tyler by two handfuls of hair down the hall, never letting him get his feet
under him. Tyler was screaming and crying like a baby, worse than I did
even. Pops turned and growled, "Shut the fucking door, get that shit off
your face and go the bed, Kyle. NOW!"

<eof>

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