Date: Mon, 4 Sep 2017 09:55:51 -0400
From: Orson Cadell <orson.cadell@gmail.com>
Subject: Maybe Next Time 5

See original story (www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/maybe-next-time/)
for warnings and copyright. Highlights: All fiction. All rights reserved.
Includes *BULLYING* and *ABUSIVE SEX* between male teens and between teens
and adult males, many of them related. Go away if any of that is against
your local rules. Practice safer sex than my characters. Write if you like,
but flamers end up in the nasty bits of future stories. Donate to Nifty
**TODAY** at donate.nifty.org/donate.html to keep the cum coming.

*****

'Maybe next time...' I thought as I picked up the soap, tasting the vile
mess in my mouth, remnants of my father's stale load from the night before,
slightly fresher semen from this morning, all buried under an appalling,
horrifying layer of piss-flavor and realized to me dismay... I couldn't
finish the sentence. 'May next time...' was all I had.

***** Maybe Next Time 5: My Brother's Keeper

By Bear Pup

*****

Tyler took the first shower as soon as Pops was done with his. I did the
whole brushing and mouthwash thing, waiting my turn. As usual, he left the
water running for me when he got out and started drying. I stepped into the
tepid stream and did my 'express shower', hitting the important parts and
my hair then getting out quickly before the hot water completely ran
out. Tyler was already dressed and shouldering his backpack, pushing past
me.

Pop came in and handed me the key. "Not one MINUTE before his lifting
session starts, and I want you in whatever room he's in. If he so much as
scratches his nuts, you WILL tell me, cocksucker. You understand?" I nodded
frantically and he left. I got dressed myself and walked to school, taking
a different route than Tyler, a long habit born of self-preservation.
School was... school. When the last period ended I literally ran, ignoring
the rebukes from teachers, to the boy's bathroom closest to the gym. Tyler
was already there.

He pulled me into the handicapped stall by the neck, deliberately choking
me. "Listen to me you little fuck, get me out of this shit then scram. If I
see you, if I so much as glimpse you, I'll gut you on the way home, swear
to God."

I strangled out, "Can't. Pop said. Can't. Stay with you!"

Tyler's eyes boggled and he dropped me. I stood, crouched a little, gasping
and choking. "He didn't!"

"I'm sorry, Tyler. I'm sorry! He made me promise. And I have to tell him
everything you do so he'll know if I don't! Please, Tyler, please. It's not
me!" He pulled his fist back to punch the fuck out of me and I readied
myself for a blow that never came. Instead, he let out a single, agonized
sob, then ripped open his pants and dropped his drawers. His nuts seemed
about twice the size as normal, bloated and tight in their pouch.

"Get this over with."

He'd scared me so badly that I fumbled a bit with the key, but he sighed
and shuddered when I finally worked the thing loose and slipped it into my
pocket. He reached down and I said, "NO! Tyler, don't! I have to tell him
if you so much as scratch. I th-th-th-th-think he's looking for reasons to
keep you locked up. Please, Ty, please don't give him any."

Another harsh sob, "But it itches sooooo bad, Kyle." Without thinking, I
reached out and started scratching around the base of his cock and where
the lock-strap had gone around his nuts. He sucked in a trembling gasp as I
did so then pushed me away. "You're gonna make me hard, asshole!" But there
was a softness in his voice I'd never heard before.

I followed him meekly into the weight room of the gym complex. As with so
many smaller cities, Fort Collins worships high school sports. We might not
have textbooks, but we had sparkly new equipment out the ass. With only a
slight hitch in his step, he walked up to the coach who ran weight training
across all the sports. The man had spotted me and scowled at me as Tyler
approached. "What?"

"Um, sir. My Pop has, um, well my little brother fucked up and Pop made me
promise not to let him out of my sight for even a second. I'm sorry, sir."

The massive coach, running a bit too fat but seriously-intimidating, sucked
in a breath to blast Tyler to cinders when an assistant who also worked
with Tyler's basketball team whispered into the big man's ear. The only
word I caught was 'Volker'. The coach's eyes widened a little as they shot
from Tyler to me. "Fine. Keep him in sight and keep him outta the way,
kid."

Tyler gave me a severe look and a head-bob and I scurried after him as he
went to the locker room. I could tell by the set of his shoulders and the
color of the back of his neck that he was on the edge of exploding. Some of
his pack was there and he leaned in. He said something and the whole group
looked at me and laughed, leering. God only knows what lie Tyler made up,
and I just couldn't care. I stayed as far off as I could, but kept him in
sight as he stripped down and pulled his gym clothes out, starting with the
jock.

Tyler was chubbed but thankfully not hard, and only one of the guys
noticed. The kid, Jake Falkland, wasn't in his pack and had a reputation of
a smartass and something of a prick. Tyler had just pulled up his shorts
and was pulling on his tank top when the kid said something snide. I
couldn't catch it all, but I caught "babysitting" and "prom queen". In an
instant, the kid's head was slammed into the wall of lockers and Tyler had
him by the throat. My brother didn't say a word, just snarled at the
asshole and let him go. A couple of his pack pushed the kid away and onto
the floor as the group trooped out. I stayed as far away as I could manage
and still keep him in sight.

Weight training seemed like every other useless macho thing Tyler loved,
and seemed to drag on for weeks. I got about halfway through my homework,
glancing up constantly so I could report to Pop. When it broke, he made an
excuse to his pack that he had to get "the fucking brat" home and I peeled
in behind him as he swept by.

The sweaty musk rolling off him was intoxicating, something I'd never
noticed before. Perhaps it was the sexualization Pop had put into his own
self-described crotch-rot, but it made me chub up. Tyler's scent was clean
and spicy, but still hyper-masculine. It didn't have any of the sour,
sickening overtones that Pop managed to pack into his ball sweat. I said
nothing, knowing that Tyler was on the very edge of self-destruction and
anything could set him off.

We got to the house and both of us came to a sudden stop, shaking
identically with fear. The garage door was open and Pop was standing in the
doorway. He smiled widely when he saw us and we continued, both now
terrified of what might be coming. Pop met us inside the door and I ran to
him, hugging him and getting the 'puppy act' in as quick as I could. Pop
pushed me back a bit and said, "Well, first things first. Both of you
strip. Kyle, the cock-lock, please?" I handed it to him and tried not to
watch Tyler's look of horrified dread or Pop's glee at seeing that very
expression.

He took Tyler to the bathroom and I, mercifully, was not required. I heard
him wash Tyler and repeat the almost-orgasm and subsequent shriek of the
ice bath. Tyler looked like a quaking aspen when he came in, cock secured,
followed by a beaming Pop.

"Well, I'm afraid I don't have time to hear the blow-by-blow from Kyle
right now. I'll get it later. I have to run a part over to the main plant,"
e.g. the "real" dump. "Kyle, remember, I want to know every itch he
scratched and how he treated every single person, got me? I should be back
in an hour." I nodded and Pop ruffled my hair and left.

I went to open my book and Tyler sobbed, "Kyle!" I looked up and my brother
was white as a sheet and shaking so bad I knew he had to be close to
puking. "Kyle! You've got to help me!"

"What? OMG, Tyler, what's gotten into you?"

"Falkland. You can't tell Pop about Falkland. He'll call it
bullying. Please, Kyle, please. You've got to help me. I can't take this
anymore."

My mouth dropped open. I'd actually not really thought of that little
asswipe's comeuppance as anything other than 'minimum force
required'. "Tyler? That's silly! What you did wasn't--"

"Don't you get it? Pop won't CARE. I pushed the little prick. You, you, you
can't t-t-t-t-t-tell him that part. Please!"

Now we were into a whole different issue. "No fucking way am I lying to
Pop. I hadn't planned to mention it, but if he asks if you touched anyone
or something, I've GOT to tell him. You have to see that, Tyler!" I don't
care how desperate he was; lie to Pop? Not happening.

"K-K-K-K-Kyle! I'll give you anything. Anything I have. I-I-I-I-I'll, um,
I'll give you my stereo. You *love* my stereo. God, Kyle, I
c-c-c-can't. You have t-t-t-t-to help me!"

"No, Tyler. Not just no, fuck no!"

"I'll g-g-g-g-g-give you a blowjob. Please? Okay, I'll blow you every day
after school for a week. No? um, um, um, a month! And I'll d-d-d-d-do all
your chores. ANYTHING, Kyle, just name it."

"No. N. O. No. I won't throw you under the bus, Tyler, but I won't lie to
Pop to get you out of this. I'll tell him the kid should have had the shit
kicked out of him, and -- to be honest -- he would have been a smear on the
floor if this were last week. But I will NOT lie."

Tyler sprinted from the room and I could hear that he barely made it to the
toilet before he started heaving. I felt like trash, a complete prick, but
he HAD to see that this was a non-starter. It had to be killing him, the
cock-cage and the tormenting, but LIE? To POP? I thought to myself, 'Maybe
next time, Pop will let Tyler off the hook. He's got to... doesn't he?'

I went back to my homework and Tyler never reappeared. I guessed,
correctly, that he went straight to the kitchen to start on dinner. I heard
the garage door and a short conversation in the kitchen.

Pop hollered, "Kyle! Come in here." I hurried to do just that. "I want you
to make a salad while Tyler does the stir fry. Okay, sport?" I nodded and
started pulling ingredients together as Pop went back to the master
bedroom.

I whispered, "WTF is going on, Ty?" He just shook his head and kept
building the stir fry stuff. Something with beef and noodles and
veggies. Pop wasn't back until just before the stir fry was coming off so
he was gone at least twenty minutes. I plated the salad as Tyler did the
hot stuff.

Pop was smiling in a way that made me extremely nervous. The superficial
chatting about the school day was light-hearted and sparkling. Pop doesn't
do sparkling. My brother and I shared a look of dread when Pop was getting
himself another beer. When we were done, he announced, "Okay, boys. Up to
my room."

We followed him, Ty shaking visibly now that the time was at hand. Pop told
Tyler to take the chair and he sat on the bed, pulling my back into his
hairy chest and getting me situated between his strong legs.  One
advantage, I suddenly realized with relief, was that he couldn't see my
face as I spoke.

"Kyle, tell me every that happened today with Tyler." He started to stroke
my cock that, in spite of my worries and fear, came slowly to life in his
hand.

"Um, sure, Pops. We, we went to school. I saw Tyler maybe six, seven times,
always with his pack, always quiet. We met in the boy's room like you said
and I unlocked him. He told the Coach who runs the weights that I was in
trouble and he had to keep an eye on me."

Pop's voice was rough, "You lied about Kyle? To a coach?" Ty's eyes were
wide and scared but he nodded. Pop's hand had stopped right at the head of
my dick and I squirmed as he kept diddling there.

"No, Pop. It's not like that. There was literally no other way I could have
stayed in there with Ty. Even with that story, I thought the guy was going
to make me wait outside, but Tyler played it perfectly. I mean, what else
could he have told the man, Pop?" Our father grunted and went back to
stroking me. I tried to relax and went back to the narrative.

"Um, okay. Ty went into the locker room and I followed. He got dressed out
while his pack gathered, and they went into the weight room and lifted more
or less as a group. He made an excuse on why he couldn't shower there --
wait, right, he said I was so grounded he had to take me straight to the
house. Um, well, we got home, you locked Ty up and left. I worked on
homework until you came back."

"Hmm. You didn't mention him scratching or playing with himself, Kyle."

"But he didn't, I swear, Pop!"

There was a sneer in his voice. "You're telling me that he didn't itch like
a motherfucker when that cage came off? And that he didn't even scratch
then? Or when he got sweaty lifting?"

"No, I swear. I watched. His hand never touched his crotch, not once,
except to get into his clothes and he didn't linger or anything. Yeah, he
itched real bad when I took the cock-cage off, but I could see it was
killing him so I, I, I s-s-s-scratched for him."

"You WHAT?"

"Pop, he was about to cry. And it's not like I hadn't touched it before. I
reached down and scratched around where the cage went. He st-st-st-stopped
me when it started to f-f-f-f-feel good cuz he said you'd be mad. He never
even chubbed, Pops, I swear!"

"Well, I'll be damned." There was a smile and a bit of wonder in his
tone. "After what he did to you, you just reached out all on your own and
helped him out? I can tell you're being honest by your body, Kyle, or I'd
never believe it. Well done, son." He tousled my hair affectionately and I
nearly fainted with relief.

"And who all did your brother talk to during the day? Was he polite? Did he
bully anyone?"

"T-T-T-T-Talk to? Um, I don't know in the classes but the only other people
he talked to were his pack."

"And in the weight room?"

"Nobody but his pack. Oh, and the Coach, but I already told you that. And
his pack didn't, like, chat. They mainly grunted at each other when
spotting or gave each other tips. A couple of coaches made rounds, be he
was real polite."

"And the locker room? Who all did he speak to in the locker room?"

I was ready for that, since it was close to what Ty feared so deeply. You
see, Tyler grunted at the kid he head-slammed, but never said a single
word. I didn't have to lie to Pop if I was careful. "I was close enough to
hear the whole time and he never said one word to anyone who wasn't in his
pack."

"Really? You'll swear to that, huh?"

"Yes, sir. Yes."

"What did he say, specifically, to Falkland. He's not part of Tyler's
'pack', is he?" Tyler was now white as a sheet and his eyes were
fluttering.

I turned to look straight at Pop. "No, that little prick is not part of
Ty's pack, and Tyler never said one word to him, even though he said some
pretty awful things to Ty! Tyler's different now, Pop. That kid would have
been dead a week ago, and good riddance. I'll swear to that on a stack of
Bibles."

Pop's smile was no longer fun and friendly, but perfectly predatory. He
held up a little remote and hit 'play'. His computer screen came to life on
the dressing table next to Tyler, making my brother jump a foot. I watched
his eyes slowly roll back in horror. He couldn't see the screen, but he
could hear the words.

"Falkland. You can't tell Pop about Falkland. He'll call it
bullying. Please, Kyle, please. You've got to help me. I can't take this
anymore."

I watched my mouth drop open on the screen. "Tyler? That's silly! What you
did wasn't--"

"Don't you get it? Pop won't CARE. I pushed the little prick. You, you, you
can't t-t-t-t-t-tell him that part. Please!"

"No fucking way am I lying to Pop. I hadn't planned to mention it, but if
he asks if you touched anyone or something, I've GOT to tell him. You have
to see that, Tyler!"

We listened as Tyler offered me his stereo, a blow job, a month of blow
jobs, anything I wanted, just to lie for him about that nasty little
fuckwad Jake Falkland getting far less than Tyler should have delivered.

"No. N. O. No. I won't throw you under the bus, Tyler, but I won't lie to
Pop to get you out of this. I'll tell him the kid should have had the shit
kicked out of him, and -- to be honest -- he would have done if this were
last week. But I will NOT lie."

Pop hit another button and the image froze as an utterly-undone Tyler
turned to run on the screen, little more than a blur. I knew it wouldn't be
on the tape, but he was about to puke his guts out in fear.

Pop's voice was hard and firm, but not yelling or anything. "Tyler. Look at
me. Look me right in the eyes." My brother managed it, barely, lids still
fluttering and his whole body quivering. "What, exactly did that kid say
and what did you do?"

"H-H-H-H-H-H--" Tyler gulped convulsively several times before he got his
voice to work. "He said something like, 'So Volker is a babysitter now,
huh? Are you a girl now? Getting a sex change? Running for Prom Queen?'
and, and, and that's when I couldn't take it. My pack was there looking. I
pushed him back into the lockers and then c-c-c-c-caught myself. I never
said a word. Oh, God, Pop, I'm so sorry. Please, please--"

"Shut up pussy-boy. I have to agree with Kyle that he deserved worse than
he got. You still pushed him, you snapped and you need to learn control,
son. I'm only giving you one extra day for that."

"THANK YOU! Oh, God, thank you Pop! TH--"

"Shut it. But then you fucking blew it big time. At least you didn't try to
threaten Kyle, but you tried to bribe him to lie to me -- TO ME!" Pop's
voice went from level to enraged shout on those last two words, then came
back down as Pop took a deep breath. "That is so fucking not okay, Tyler. I
put the camera in there because I was afraid you'd try some shit like
having him unlock you again so you could get off. But what you did? I'm not
entirely sure you're ever going to get to cum again."

Tyler's mouth was working like a goldfish but nothing came out. He was
streaming tears. "But your brother, now, your brother kept his word. So,
I'm afraid you have to pay up. I've got him all nice and ready. Get over
here and give him his very first blowjob, bitch. His first of those you'll
give him... Every. Fucking. Day. ON YOUR KNEES!"

The bellow broke Tyler's paralysis and he flew in front of us, his body
framed first by my thin legs and then by Pop's massive ones. Since it was
my first, it was obviously the best blowjob of my life to that point, but
even so, Ty was a fucking master. I came in perhaps two minutes, clutching
Pop's biceps like a vise.

Tyler pulled back and I could see the utter humiliation in his eyes as he
opened his mouth to show me -- to show Pop -- my load on his
tongue. "Swallow it, cocksucker." He did with a revolted shudder. "Stay
there." Pop stood, hoisting me and forcing Tyler to lean back like he was
playing Limbo. He walked over and sat in the chair, me now across his lap.

"Hiding something from me, Kyle, is almost as bad as lying. SHUT UP! Don't
try to tell me you weren't trying to protect him. TYLER! Over here." Tyler
knee-walked over and Pop manhandled him into position with the back of his
head against Pop's thigh, my crotch in his face. "You are going to suck him
again as Kyle gets his punishment. You, Tyler, get to decide how much he
gets. I'll keep spanking until you get him off, so go as slow as you want
to. Now get your cocksucking lips around baby boy's dick, big boy. And
maybe next time, you'll think twice about trying to fuck with me."

I felt Tyler's lips on me as he sucked my still semi-hard dick into his
oh-so-talented mouth. My moan of pleasure turned into a howl of pain as the
hairbrush made its first contact on my ass, still sore from the first
blistering I'd gotten.

The next fifteen minutes were, without possible doubt, the strangest I ever
experienced. The intense, excruciating pain on one side and the
overwhelming pleasure on the other made my head spin. My brother's mastery
of cocksucking competing with my monster of a father's mastery of
punishment, together driving me quite literally out of my mind. I spun into
a world of overpowering sensation. I don't even recall the climax, just my
continued, high-pitched screams and moans alternating like an electric
current. Sometime later, I came slowly to my senses, lying on the floor and
weeping. Tyler and Pop nowhere to be seen.

A while later, I heard Tyler puking in the shared bath as Pop strolled
in. He lifted me to face him, smiling and petting me tenderly. "Well, you
get a night of rest, cocksucker. Your brother, whose talents you'll be
enjoying for a long, long time took care of me. Two loads. Damn, I regret
telling him I'd let him loose when you got old enough. Oh, well. Go get
ready for bed, baby boy." I shrieked as he gave my glowing ass a 'playful'
slap. "Go ahead and sleep in the other room tonight. It'll remind Tyler of
just how bad he's fucked up."

I limped into the bathroom as Tyler fled to our bedroom. I looked in the
mirror at my ass; there were a few places that looked like pinpricks, but
no blood. I bit down on a towel to keep from shouting as I applied the
Brave Soldier cream before going to the bathroom and (for the first time in
a week) brushing with toothpaste and gargling with mouthwash, the last of
which I did until I thought I'd drown.

I went into 'our' bedroom and found Tyler weeping inconsolably. I sat on
his bed and petted down his muscular back. "God, I'm so, so sorry,
Ty. We'll figure it out somehow. Maybe next time it will work out. And you
don't have to blow me ever again."

My big brother's voice, usually so confident and even cocky, was devoid of
any trace of hope. "He'll know. He always knows. It'll never 'work out',
not next time or the time after that. Go to bed, kid. Just... go to bed."
He rolled his face to the wall and I sighed, moving across to my own bed
and whimpering as I laid down. I slept on my stomach, waking in agony twice
when I rolled over in my sleep.

Thursday at school was an endless torment. My ass overnight had gotten even
deeper red, not quite a bruise, I didn't think. It was so sensitive that
even the Brave Soldier cream didn't help much, and it wore off after third
period. I told people that I'd taken a bad tumble off my hoverboard (which
I didn't own, but made a good, ass-centric excuse) and was basically in
tears when we got home. There was a huge note on the side-table where we
always left our keys and stuff. "REMEMBER THE CLOTHES."

Tyler heaved a single sob, stripped and literally ran to our room,
weeping. I sighed, stripped, got both sets of our clothes together and took
them through the kitchen to the laundry room hamper. Returning to the
kitchen, I built a casserole that everyone liked -- chicken, veggies,
noodles and two different soups, covered in a heart-stopping layer of
cheese-and-crackers -- and went into the bedroom. He screamed at me and I
ignored him until he ran out of breath. "Tyler, we can't do this. You can't
stay like that and I need you back. I... well, I might have a way to make
it better."

"Don't you GET it? It won't GET better! It will NEVER get better!" Tyler
was on the edge of hysteria and I waited him out.

"Ty, let's try, at least. Tonight, at dinner, we cooperate. No, shut up!
Listen to me! We act like it's working and that you're suddenly nice to
me. Tomorrow, we do it again. You can mope all you want but work WITH
me. Saturday, fuck, I don't know about Saturday, but on Sunday I'll beg him
to let you out at least for a while."

His head popped up, his face a mask of bewilderment. "Why would you do
that? After, well, after..."

"Because you're still my brother, and you've already b-b-b-b-b-b-been
through enough. I mean, no, I still haven't forgiven you for what you did
to me when I was so, so jazzed that you were gonna teach me man stuff. And
then you t-t-t-t-took those pictures and m-m-m-m-made me, you know." My
voice quivered to silence in shame and regret and guilt.

"Oh, God!" Tyler, the brother who had not just taken my innocence but
flushed it down the toilet pulled me into his arms and we both cried into
each other. He pushed me back after a long while and looked me in the eyes,
"I really am sorry, Kyle. What I d-d-d-d-did was hateful. Evil, Kyle. I. I
don't even know..."

"Why you did it? Because Pop had done it to you for years and, I dunno, you
wanted some payback. You couldn't get it from Pop but you could from me,
maybe? I can't hate you forever for that, bro, I just can't. I might not
ever trust you again, I don't really know, but I can't hate like that."

He stared into my eyes for eons, utterly perplexed. "Who thinks like that,
bro? I mean, who does the whole 'turn the other cheek' thing outside
church?" His words stung and I didn't know why. Well, yeah, I actually did.

"A patsy doormat of a wimp like me, I guess." I yelped as he slapped me,
not viscously but enough to more than get my attention. His voice was
rough, a growl.

"Don't you ever, EVER say something like that again. You hear me? I... I'm
damaged goods, Kyle. I know that. I'm, like, dead inside. But don't you
fucking let that happen to you. What was that fucking book they made us
read? 'Stay golden, Pony Boy, stay golden?' You stay golden, Kyle. And
don't try to get between Pop and me. He'll shred you."

"Maybe not if we--"

"Fine! Fine. We'll try it your way." Tyler slumped and muttered, "Maybe
I'll get lucky and he'll finally kill me."

My own slap to his face was both harder and louder than what he'd give
me. "Now you listen here, Tyler. You talk like that and I will make your
life a fucking hell, and you know damned well that I can. You will NOT die,
you fucking selfish bastard, and leave me to... to..." I couldn't finish
the sentence. I just turned away and started to stand and Tyler grabbed my
arm.

"Kyle," his voice shook and his breathing was ragged, "you can't
l-l-l-leave yet. I have to b-b-b-b-blow you."

"What? No! Don't be stupid, Ty!"

"Pop. Will. Know. If, uh, if I do it now before he gets home, maybe it
won't make it so... so bad." He was kneeling in front of me by then and
pushing my knees apart. I don't think I'd ever been so limp since
puberty. The very idea repulsed me. But my brother was right. It would be
better. I closed my eyes and my mind, concentrating only on my cock as he
sucked me in.

I jumped as I felt his large hand worm under me and start to play with my
sensitive, virginal pucker. Pa's rough, insistent finger from the other
night was nothing like the tender, gentle pleasure Tyler gave. All thoughts
of being unable to get hard vanished like smoke. My ass sang at his touch
and his masterful work on my cock nearly had me screaming. I came to myself
enough to look down, watching exactly what he did and how. I needed to be
able to make Pop pop a lot quicker than he had been, and Tyler was the only
one who could teach me.

I didn't have enough cock to deep-throat, but he took me all the way down,
swallowing around me. As he licked his way slowly up, his tongue made
contact with every nerve on my shaft. When he got to the head he
did... something incredible with his mouth, moving around and moaning,
those vocal vibrations as unbelievable as the tongue and lip work. Plunge
to the base, lick up the shaft slowly, worship the head. Plunge, lick,
worship. Over and over while his hand diddled my asslips.

"T-T-T-T-Tyler! TY! Ty, I gonna, gonna--" he plunged down hard and started
swallowing over and over as quickly as he could, humming at the same time,
"--gonna c-c-c-c-C-C-C-C-C-CUMMMMMMM!" I howled through it, almost in
tears. I looked down and he was on his haunches, mouth open, displaying my
load.

"Oh, God, Ty. Please don't do that. Get rid of it but please, please don't
humiliate yourself when Pop's not here. Please?" In my mind, I was
thinking, 'Maybe next time, I'll hold off longer. Maybe even have him stop
and explain stuff.'

He spit my cum into his hand and stumbled into the bathroom. I heard the
water running, then he was back, still shaking but more composed. "Thank
you, Kyle. Thank you for that." I gave him a tentative smile, but it seemed
to upset him even more.

We went down and I got the casserole in the oven. We still had salad from
the night before, and Tyler just diced more stuff into it to bulk it up. He
then made up a quick batch of biscuits and set them aside; they'd go in
when Pop got home. That was nearly an hour later; he must have stopped off
for a beer.

He came in and I ran out and did the head-crotch thing. This time, though,
Tyler was behind me. He reached up and said, "C-C-C-Can I get your shirt
off, Poppa?" Pop's eyes narrowed and he nodded once. Tyler clumsily
unbuttoned his shirt and then went behind him to slip it off.

I unbuckled his belt and looked up, "Daddy, can I open your pants? Please,
Daddy?" He nodded, seeming even more puzzled. I unsnapped the top button
and slowly worked the zipper down. I heard Pop sigh, then moan, and I
looked up to see Tyler had his hands under Pop's tank and was gently
stroking our father's nipples. I pulled his underwear below his balls and
started to lick and nuzzle his rank crotch.

After a minute, Pop's husky voice broke the tableau. "Enough. That
was... good. I want that every day now. Both of you. Now, up to my room."
We followed him up as he used one hand to hold his pants up, forcing looks
of pleasure onto our faces. He sat on the chair and stuck both legs
out. "Get my boots off, boys."

We each straddled a leg and grabbed a heel, I heard Tyler grunt and I
gasped as one of Pop's fingers pushed up into my hole. "Damn that is a fine
fucking sight." Pop's voice was thick with lust. He wiggled his finger in
me and I could tell from Ty's breathing he was doing the same to him. "So,
Kyle, your brother gave you your blowjob. Are you learning from it?"

Tyler sent me a look with a mixture of told-ya-so and be-careful. "Oh, yes,
Daddy. I'll be much better for you now." I got the boot off and immediately
whipped off the sock and started making love to his nasty feet, his finger
digging deeper as I bent forward. I sensed Tyler do the same a minute
later. When I finished, I turned to Pop and said, "Can I show you Daddy?"
He was beaming.

"After dinner, baby boy. Tyler, I'm surprised. Explain the change."

"Um, well," his voice shook, "Kyle and I t-t-t-talked. We, well, we decided
that it would be better if we w-w-w-worked together." He was staring at Pop
with liquid fear in his eyes.

Pop nodded. "Interesting." What a terrifying word. Pop stood up and
divested himself of pants and underwear, then went downstairs with us close
behind. Tyler dressed and plated the salad as I pulled the casserole and
the biscuits, setting the former to rest and putting the latter in a
covered breadbasket. I hurried through my salad so I could plate the
casserole as Pop and Ty finished.

Pop kept looking from one to the other of us as if searching for the
flaw. He repeatedly baited Tyler, trying to provoke his rage, but Tyler
answered simply and submissively each time. Pop seemed to go from puzzled
to deeply-suspicious to interested. When we were done, Pop sat and watched
us clean the kitchen together. Shockingly, we worked pretty well as a team
seeing as we'd never done it.

"Tyler, make me a double-sized boilermaker then go up and do whatever
homework you might have. I have to teach your baby brother about Thursday
Night Football." Pop had always watched football on Monday and Thursday
since he missed all the games on Sunday, and always had a
double-boilermaker (two cans of beer in a big glass with three shots of
whiskey. I saw Tyler gulp. I knew that I'd always been banished to our room
on football nights but, starting after Mom died, Tyler had joined him. It
dawned on me that he was not watching the games with Pop.

"Baby boy, come here." He set me in front of him and pushed on my shoulder
to tell me to kneel. "Now look up at Daddy. Thursday Night Football is
important, Kyle, and you have a very important job. You suck me the whole
game, but never get me to cum. If I cum, you'll get punished. At the half,
you get me another double-boilermaker and yourself something, then same for
the second half. Well, get to it cocksucker."

I leaned forward and sucked his semi-hard dick into my mouth and started to
suckle. How the fuck was I supposed to know if he was close? I started
practicing the moves Tyler had used. I was still unable to take Pop into my
throat without gagging, but I did really well on the head. Pop moaned and I
pulled off and started to work his nuts instead. He shifted forward and I
remembered the hands, reaching out and diddling his ass. Pop watched for a
while with that glitter-eyed snake's smile, then grabbed a porno magazine
which he read as I sucked him.

It was actually not nearly as bad as I had feared. His dogwater was kinda
nasty, but not enough to make me heave. I noticed that sometimes Pop's nuts
would start to pull up and his belly would clench. I figured out that was
his signal that he was close. At least, I prayed it was. Every now and
then, Pop would throw his head back or groan, "Oh, fuck," or "yeah,
cocksucker," or "that's the way, bitch." I made it to the half and scurried
to the kitchen as Pop pissed his first boilermaker into the commode.

I was kneeling in front of his chair, fresh drink on the table, when he
came back in. He smiled and tousled my hair just as he used to when I
fetched something he asked for. He resumed his position and I, mine. As the
game progressed -- slowly, as the second half of football games always did
-- Pop started moaning more and more and leaking heavily. I slurped it up
and found I had to pull off and go for his nuts far more quickly each
time. Twice, he grabbed the back of my head in both hands and crammed me
down, choking me with his thick prick, but always letting me up before he
came.

Finally, the final whistle blew. Pop's voice was strained and hoarse, his
breathing fast and shallow. "Finish me, cocksucker. Suck your little
swimming siblings down." I started to suck in earnest as he huffed
encouragement, "Yeah, you cocksucking bitch. That's it, gag on your Daddy's
cock. Yeah, baby boy, go for the juice that made you, you little bitch."

With an abruptness that startled me. Pop grabbed the arms of his lounger,
threw his head way back and screamed, bucking into me fiercely. I watched
in awe as his neck and chest turned cherry red and all of the cords stood
out in his neck and arms. The face was one you'd see carved on a warrior's
mask, inhuman and godlike.

I took the first blasts into my throat and then pulled back to collect the
rest. What I hadn't counted on was the volume created by roughly three
hours of edging. I panicked as my mouth got full and I kept pulling back
farther and farther until only the very tip was inside. Even then, I felt
some spurt around my lips and drip down my chin.

He finally stopped and looked down, breathing in heavy, sustained gasps. I
instantly went back on my heels and opened my mouth, more of his load
escaping as I got into position. "Swallow, cocksucker." I did and began to
plead.

"I'm so sorry, Daddy! I didn't mean to let any out! I swear it was just so
m-m-m-m-much! Please, Daddy, I'm sorry."

He reached out again and ruffled my hair. "You did fine, baby boy. Just
fine. I like my cocksuckers to end up with a dripping face after a really
big load. It looks sexy on you. Now, go get ready for bed and join me
after."

I scurried to the hall bath and, since he hadn't forbidden it, brushed my
teeth. I did the other nightly ablutions and went into the master bedroom
where Pop was sitting on the bed, smiling. "Come here, sport." I walked up
to Pop and he grabbed my chin with a wide, contented smile. "Open up." I
did and he took one sniff and his smile turned terrible. Still holding my
chin, he slapped me hard, a new slap for every word:
"Never. Brush. Daddy's. Cock-slime. Away. Again. You. Cocksucking. Little. Bitch."

Instantly, the contented smile was back. "But overall you did good, baby
boy. Come on and snuggle with Daddy as we fall asleep." Trying desperately
to be silent as I cried, I crawled in as instructed. Pops pulled me to him,
his tumescent dick rubbing against my tortuously-sensitive ass cheeks. He
reached around me, the hand beneath my body fondling my balls and the other
stroking my very soft cock. "Dat's a good baby boy, yes it is." He cooed in
baby-talk. I stayed frozen and horrified until he finally dropped into
snores. I eventually fell asleep myself, thinking, 'Maybe next time he'll
be better now that we're submitting.'

Tyler came in as the alarm went off and we both sucked Pop awake. He was
delighted, patting us both on the head. I took the load since I knew how
much Tyler hated the taste and I could... tolerate it. Since I was on the
bed, I couldn't go back on my heels. Instead, I leaned forward and showed
him.

Friday was, roughly, a repeat of Thursday. My ass had started to deepen in
color, shading a bit toward bruise-grey and I figured it might be okay if I
could protect it for another day or two. Pop let us strip him and had us
nuzzle his dick and balls, each of us with a hand in his ass and another on
a nipple, Tyler coaching me quickly on how to treat them (tender but firm,
with steady, slow strokes) and I did fairly well, based on the hollering,
cussing vocalizations Pop went into at the end as I took his load
again. Dinner was simple -- chops and fries -- and Pop was so relaxed and
contented that he just cuddled me and went to sleep with no other sexual
service required.

Saturday dawned rainy and miserable, precluding our normal yardwork. It
meant a deep-cleaning day for the inside of the house. Tyler remained on
his best behavior. After the morning ritual, which Tyler joined again, Pop
used the pair of us in the afternoon, and me in the evening. The latter was
rough, as he decided to teach me to deep-throat him by choking me with his
cock until I was spasming, pulling off and doing it again. He took about
thirty minutes and whispered as he curled in behind me, "I love the sound
of you choking around your Daddy's cock. It shows how much you love me,
baby boy." It took me a long time to get to sleep.

Sunday held a real surprise. After we'd done morning duty, Pop ordered
Tyler into the tub and fed him about half of his acrid morning piss then
coated the rest of him. He took special glee at the sounds Ty made when his
strong stream pounded into my brother's massively-bloated and
obviously-sensitive balls. As he smeared the last part of his piss into
Tyler's soaked hair, he smiled and handed me something he'd been
holding. Tyler was clearly trying not to puke everywhere. "Kyle, this is
the key for your brother's cage." Tyler instantly alert, so tense you could
almost see him vibrate. "Here are the rules. If he threatens you in any
way, bullies or demands anything, the lock stays closed. Hear me?" I
nodded. "Anything, Kyle, even a dirty look, and the cock cage goes
nowhere."

"Other than that, you get to decide when -- or IF -- he is unlocked. BUT!
He is not to touch himself AT ALL. On top of my dresser, you'll find some
leather restraints. Before you unlock him, you put on the cuffs and attach
them to the headboard of his bed. No exceptions. If the cage is off, the
cuffs are on." Tyler kept bouncing from elation to horror. "But, if he asks
really nicely -- he can't bribe you! -- and he convinces you that he
deserves it, you can get him off. And yes, you can set conditions. Now
repeat what I told you."

"I-I-I-I-I have the key to Tyler's lock. If he isn't nice, it stays
locked. If he is nice, I cuff him to the bed and unlock him. I get to
d-d-d-decide if he deserves to c-c-cum?"

He tousled my hair, smearing some of the piss into me as well. "Good boy!
Now, both of you scram. I need to shower."

We scrammed to our own bath, and Tyler stood shaking until we heard Pop in
the shower, splashing about. He then leaned over and puked up all the
hideous piss and whatever was left in his belly from the night before. I
turned away, wet a towel and got a big glass of water ready. When he was
done, I wiped his face and mouth and gave him the water. We showered
together but not touching each other, both of us shaking. Neither of us
could bear to have the stench of Pop's urine on us a second longer.

We were in our room when Pop stuck a head in, "Off to work, boys. Be good."
His voice dripped with venom suddenly. "And I will know if you're not!"
With that, we were alone.

I looked into Tyler's desperate, pleading face. I had noticed when Pop
handed me the key that it was exactly like the one from my locker last
year. It was time to teach a lesson about trust and hope, I
decided. "Tyler, yes, I think you deserve to get out." I handed him my
locker key. "I'll wait in the living room." He wept and burbled in thanks,
fawning all over me.

I closed the door and went into the living room. It shared a wall with our
room so I leaned my head against the wall and I heard Tyler fumbling. The
lock was on the bottom, incredibly-awkward to get to by himself. I listened
in supreme satisfaction as he struggled over and over then let out a wail
of absolute anguish so intense I felt sorry for pulling the trick. He'd
finally figured out that the key didn't fit. He burst into the living room
with pure murder in his eyes.

"STOP! STOP RIGHT THERE!" I held up the real key to my mouth. "One more
step, one WORD and I swallow it. I fucking swear." He froze like he'd been
hit with a paralyzer ray in the movies. "That was not what you were
expecting, was it big bro? Now you know EXACTLY how I felt when I thought
you were going to show me man things and be a good brother, only to have
you turn me into your whore. Now go back in the room -- not one fucking
word -- and I'll be in there after one hour. THEN you can talk. Be really,
really careful what you decide to say, Tyler. Maybe next time I'll let you
cum."

He spun and slammed our door and I heard what sounded like a gorilla in
there, intent on destruction. That stopped followed by screamed curses that
I pretended not to hear, which morphed into wracking sobs and finally
silence. I let the silence go for about fifteen minutes. It hadn't been an
hour, more like thirty minutes, but I went in anyways and sat on my own
bed. Tyler looked up at me, completely defeated.

"Tyler, I'm sorry about what you went through, what you're still going
through. But I didn't do it, Ty. Well, at least not anything but the key
thing today. You want to be mad and take it out on someone, it can't be
me. Not ever again. Okay?"

"I'm..." His voice was measured, calm, indescribably sad. "I'm... you're
right. I've been a horrible person and a terrible brother. I can't tell you
how sorry I am, Kyle. Instead of praying that Pop would take you instead, I
should have sacrificed everything to protect you. I... I won't ask you to
forgive me, Kyle, for any of it. But I p-p-p-p-p-p-promise I won't be like
that anymore."

"Okay." I stood up and went into Pop's room and got the cuffs. I came back
in and Tyler's face was a torment to watch. But I had a double-dose of
self-preservation as motive: My stunt had left Tyler absolutely murderous
and, most importantly, "Ty, Pop will know. He always knows. Just lay back,
Ty." He did and I cuffed him to the headboard, then unlocked his cock cage.

He hissed and groaned piteously, pulling against the restraints. I reached
down immediately and started to scratch luxuriously and he purred and
moaned and thanked me, crying as he did so. In seconds, his cock was rock
hard. I let my fingers trail upwards along the shaft and Tyler whimpered,
looking into my eyes with all-consuming need.

"First off, you will delete every picture, video and anything else you have
about me, right?"

"Yes! YES! Immediately. Please, Kyle--"

"Shush. Second, you will treat me like a brother is supposed to be
treated. Not just today, but forever. Swear to me, Ty, or I will leave you
just like this and come in here every once in a while, tease your cock
until you cry like a girl, then let Pop freeze it back into the cage
afterwards. All fucking day, Tyler."

"I SWEAR! OH, GOD, I SWEAR. I'll be the best b-b-b-b-b-brother
ever. PLEASE!"

I stroked him again, this time tip to root. I was going to just jack him
off, but then I started to wonder. What would it be like to suck a cock
without being forced? Doing it at my pace, me making the choices? I leaned
forward and Tyler started to whine, a high keening sound, as he realized
what I was going to do. He was leaking copiously and I licked that off
first.

'Odd,' I thought, 'it's actually not that bad when it isn't forced on
me. It actually doesn't taste... like anything, really. Salt, a little
musk, but clean.' That, and his crotch and sweat smelled like sex in heaven
must. It was warm, spicy, fresh, with a dash of danger in there. It was,
frankly, a little addictive.

I started to suck on him, taking him as deep as was comfortable, then
slowly back up, taking my time at every step. Tyler was thrashing and
thrusting, but there was nothing he could really do, cuffed as he was. He
was getting very, very close when I realized my mistake. I pulled back and
Tyler went fucking ape shit, spitting and screaming. I got up and grabbed
my phone.

"Shut up, Ty." He did, terrified that I wouldn't finish. I flicked it to
video, careful to get only his face, no trace of his cuffed hands or naked
condition. "Tell me again what you're going to do, Tyler."

He flushed purple then deflated. "I'm going to delete everything I have and
I'm going to t-t-t-t-t-treat you like a brother should be treated."

"And you're gonna let me hang around with you at school sometimes and stop
people bullying me so much."

"WHAT?!? That wasn't part--" I raised both eyebrows and he just sagged,
furious but knowing he'd lost before he started. "And I'll let you hang
around *a little bit* but NOT at school, and I'll make sure my pack has
your back just like mine. Fair?"

Elated, I saved the recording to my cloud and flipped the phone across onto
my bed, then simply went to town on my brother's cock and balls. I used my
hands, lips, tongue and as much of my throat as I could tolerate. He had a
squealing, shrieking orgasm that seemed to go on forever. I took one taste
and let the rest -- and there was a hell of a lot of 'rest' -- flood his
chest and tummy. Precum was one thing but cum was still fucking nasty shit.

When he finally came down, gurgling and blabbering his thanks to me, I gave
him a minute to recover and... did it again, this time without the pause
for video confirmation of our deal. For the next few hours, the room
sounded like the set of a slasher flick as I dragged load after load out of
my brother's bloated, desperate nuts. The last one found him actually
begging me NOT to make him cum. He said his balls hurt too bad. I did
anyway, taking the tiny drizzle of nearly-clear fluid and drinking it
down. 'Maybe next time,' I thought, 'I'll do even more, or at least do it
slower. It's fun to be begged.'

<eof>

Beta Readers: Special thanks to the folks who spent their own good time
looking for my fuckups, particularly Lee, Caveman, Pawl, Peter and Jack.

*****

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Active storelines, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay...
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