REVISIONIST HISTORY (Lindros Version)

By Lloyd

Chapter 1

Eric Lindros couldn’t believe that his younger brother actually had the balls to suggest that he needed a shrink. Who the hell was Brett to tell him what to do? What had Brett ever done with his life?

Sure Eric had been down lately, but who wouldn’t be? Summer was coming, and the hockey season was building to its conclusion. This was supposed to be the best part of his year – the excitement of the hunt for the Cup, followed by a long and relaxing summer of golf, fishing, and more golf. His family had always had a house at Muskoka Lakes when he was growing up, and Eric had bought his own place soon after he came into the NHL. He had just recently built a large vacation house there, and he usually could not wait for summer to start.

This year, however, he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that gripped him. He was 33 years old now, and this should have been the prime of his career. But once again, he found himself sitting on the sideline, nursing his wounds, and watching another season slip away.

There was no denying that his many concussions had taken their toll. The truth was, there hadn’t been too many bites after the Rangers released him. But when the Maple Leafs signed him, it had been a dream come true – the opportunity to play for his hometown team, and prove all his critics wrong. Now, thanks to another fucking injury, that dream was fading too. If the Leafs didn’t re-sign him after this season – well, that might just be it for him. Even in the best-case scenario, he only had one or two chances left – probably playing for the league minimum – to finally win the Cup. It wasn’t about the money, but he really wanted a championship ring!

Eric had recently had tendon surgery, and had casts on both wrists. He had asked Brett to come up out to Muskoka early because, truth be told, he really needed the help. But his kid brother said he was ‘too busy.’ Their father, Carl, had called Brett and urged him come out to Muskoka and “do what’s right for Eric.” Brett said that he would come up as early as he could, but Eric’s mom had to stay with him after the surgery. Bonnie Lindros was a good nurse, but it sure put a damper on things. There is some stuff a guy just doesn’t want his mom’s help with.

Now the casts were about to come off, and Brett was finally coming to the Lake. With the casts off, Eric wouldn’t really need Brett, but the thought of his brother’s visit cheered him up. Despite their occasional problems, Brett was still his favorite golfing partner, fishing buddy, and all-around partner-in-crime. He and Brett would have a whole month together before Brett had to go back to New York for whatever the fuck it was he called ‘work’ these days. Eric intended to make the most of it. No matter how bad things were in his own life, Eric could always take comfort from the fact that he was still better off than his kid brother.

When Brett arrived at Eric’s house, he noticed right away that something was wrong. Of course Eric was moody about his injury – his casts still weren’t due to come off for another week or so – and the fact that Brett hadn’t come running as soon as he’d wanted. But there was more to it than that – Brett had seen depression before, and he could tell that there was something else going on with Eric.

So, later in the week, he suggested that maybe Eric ought to talk to a professional about his depression. To say that Eric lost it would be an understatement. He completely flipped out, pinning Brett against the wall with his casts. “What are you saying, that I’m crazy or something?” Eric shouted into his brother’s face. “Who the fuck do you think you are – telling me what I should or shouldn’t do? Who are you to tell me anything, you fucking loser?”

Brett didn’t resist his brother’s fury; he didn’t respond to his enraged shouting. Instead, he grabbed Eric in a bear hug and just let him rage on. When Eric eventually stopped ranting and let his arms drop to his sides, Brett still held his brother tightly. Eric stood silently in Brett’s embrace, his face glowing with emotion, and finally broke down into angry tears. “What the fuck’s wrong with me?” he sobbed. “Why does all this shit always happen to me?”

Brett patted the big jock’s broad back. “It’ll be okay, Big Guy. Really – everything’s gonna work out. You’ll see…” 

Eric pulled it together a little, and wiped his sleeve across his face to dry his tears while Brett spoke. “I don’t think you’re crazy, E,” he said. “I bet I know what you’re going through better than anybody in the world. I understand the stress you’re under. I understand the injuries – the concussions. I understand what it’s like to not be able to play the game you love. Believe me, Eric – you aren’t going through anything I haven’t already gone through myself.” Eric nodded grudgingly. Brett was right, but it still pained him to be lectured by his loser kid brother.

“After my last concussion, my life was a shambles. Hockey was over for me, and things were looking pretty grim. But I talked to someone – a professional – and he helped me. And then I got the ‘Be a Player’ gig, and things are okay now…”

“You mean I got you the ‘Be a Player’ gig,” Eric cut in.

Brett ignored the bait. “Look, Eric – I think Dr. Glidestone could really help you out. Why don’t you let me call him for you? You can come down to New York with me next week when you get the casts off. I’ll set everything up.”

“What’s he gonna do – have me lie down on a couch and make tell him about my dreams? Tell me everything was Mom’s fault?”

“It’s not like that at all, Eric. It’s actually pretty cool – he calls it ‘hypnotic revision.’ He takes you back to your past experiences and shows you how the decisions you’ve made and the things that you’ve done have shaped the person you are today. It really puts everything in perspective.”

“I’m not into all that New Age shit,” Eric replied, “but it looks like this shrink got you to finally cut your hair. Shit, man – I’ve been telling you to get a man’s haircut for years.”

Brett blushed, and nervously brushed his hand against the short hair at the side of his head. It was almost a crew cut. “I – well, I guess maybe he just helped me to see your point of view,” he stammered.

“Well, if he could get you to lose that hippie hairdo of yours, than I guess I can at least give it a try. I thought you were gonna keep that long hair of yours until the day you die…”

Chapter 2

Eric hated to admit it, but Brett did always seem to come through for him. Even when they were kids, Brett always seemed in awe of his older brother. Maybe that’s why Eric had always been so confident – he’d always had his kid brother there, looking up to him with such open admiration. During every important event in his life Brett had been there for him, cheering him on from the sidelines.

It had been a bit strange for Eric when Brett made it into the NHL himself. Eric was the superior player with the bigger contract, but to have Brett competing at the same level as him was unsettling. In truth he’d hated it. And during the two NHL games when he’d actually had to play against Brett, he’d been a wreck.

When Brett’s career was cut off prematurely due to injury, Eric really did feel sorry for his kid brother. But a part of him was also glad that their relationship could resume its more comfortable status – with Eric on top of the world and Brett his number-one-fan. Eric pulled the appropriate strings to help get Brett set up with his ‘Be a Player’ gig on TV, but that was it. When Brett had a shot at anchoring SportsCenter on ESPN, Eric got that uncomfortable feeling again. He wasn’t sure he wanted Brett to be that successful. So Eric made a public show of support, but behind the scenes he quietly let it be known that he was not supporting the idea at all. Brett didn’t get the job, and Eric remained the sole shining star of the family. Eric didn’t see this as a betrayal of his brother. On the contrary, he figured he was protecting Brett from over-reaching. Besides, Eric had more than enough money to look after his family. Brett didn’t need to ever worry.

Brett did worry, though, just not about money. He did fine on his own, and Eric’s generous handouts tended to piss him off more than anything else. What really bugged him was having to go through life as ‘Eric Lindros’s brother.’ He had lived in his famous brother’s shadow for as long as he could remember, and always felt Eric pulling the strings behind his back. He knew his dad had always held him back so that Eric could shine brighter. Shit – his dad even admitted that the only reason they’d had Brett in the first place was so Eric could have a little brother to look up to him. His whole life had always been about ‘Doing What’s Right for Eric.’ Well, that was all going to change. Brett was sick to death of Eric running his life, keeping him down, toying with him. He was going to set things right for once and for all. Or rather, Dr. Glidestone was.

Brett’s story about Dr. Glidestone was not entirely fabricated. The previous winter, Brett had been looking for a therapist to help him work through his issues with his career, as well as his brother’s interference in his life, and Dr. Glidestone had come highly recommended. When Brett said that Dr. Glidestone used hypnotic revision to help his patients, he was telling the truth, but not in the sense that Eric or anyone else would understand the term. Dr. Glidestone was not some sideshow hypnotist who could make Eric cluck like a chicken or forget his name. Dr. Glidestone claimed that he could accomplish much more, and he had proved as much to Brett at their first meeting. 

When Dr. Glidestone tried to explain what he could do, Brett nearly fell out of his chair from laughing so hard. But Dr. Glidestone offered to prove it, and Brett agreed. It was a simple test. The hypnotist used some ‘relaxation techniques’ to put Brett at ease, and due to Brett’s naturally submissive nature, he found himself quickly succumbing to the doctor’s induction. Not that he minded. In fact, he felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders as the doctor brought him down even deeper, and then engaged him in some seeming small talk. But even in his hypnotized state, Brett thought it was rather odd when the conversation turned to his hair.

 “I notice that you keep your hair quite long, Brett.”

“Yeah,” Brett responded, running a hand through his shoulder length hair. “I like to let it grow out, you know? Always have. My brother Eric keeps his hair so short – says it’s a ‘man’s haircut,’ but I think that’s just because he’s sorta losing it. Or would be if he hadn’t gone out and gotten a transplant. But yeah – I like it long.”

“Yes, I see. But I do find it interesting that you talk so much about your brother, when what I asked you about was your hair.”

Brett blushed a little. “Well, Eric just always seems to make such a big deal about it, ya know? Like why does he care about my hair so much?”

Dr. Glidestone cleared his throat. “Perhaps we can discuss that later. In the meantime, if it’s true that you like to keep your hair so long, why did you get such a short haircut only last week?”

“You’re nuts, Doc – I haven’t had my haircut in like 3 or 4 months.”

“But you have, Brett – you remember, don’t you? Just last week you went to the barber’s. What was the name of the place?”

“But I just told you, I didn’t…” Brett paused. A thought popped into his head. “Harry’s. It was Harry’s Barber shop. On West 33^rd Street.” He was amazed – he could actually picture the place.

“Very good,” Dr. Glidestone continued, “and you asked for a real military cut, didn’t you? High and tight, right?”

Brett was about to answer no, when suddenly he remembered it. He could actually remember things just like the Doc had described.

“Yeah,” he answered, “I did tell him that. But I never…” Brett raised his hand to run his fingers through his hair – just to prove to himself that he wasn’t losing his mind. But his hand didn’t find very much to run though. The sides were shaved close to the scalp, the top stiff like a crew cut.

“I – how… how the hell did you do that? I’d never get a haircut like this in a million years…”

“But you did last week, didn’t you?”

Brett was totally at a loss – he knew that when he walked into this guy’s office this morning, his hair was like it always was, long and just a little wild. But at the same time, he remembered getting the haircut. He remembered telling the barber that he wanted it ‘high and tight.’ He remembered liking that he didn’t have to use a hair blower to dry it now. “I did. I know it shouldn’t be that way, but I did.” Brett paused. “You did that, didn’t you? You made that happen…”

“Yes, I did,” Dr. Glidestone answered. “You see, Brett, this isn’t some carnival trick. I’m not sure I could describe in a way you could understand. Let’s just say that it isn’t exactly magic and it isn’t exactly quantum physics. It’s a bit like time travel, actually. I help you to experience specific events from your past, and allow you to change the actions you took and the decisions you made. I’m not talking about planting false memories. I’m offering you the chance to literally revisit and revise your own life’s history. And by changing the past, you can change the present. Do you believe me now, Brett?”

Brett nodded dumbly. Five minutes ago, he would have dismissed this as a bunch of New Age bullshit. But now, rubbing his fingers through his razor cut hair, he believed.

“Now then,” the doctor continued, “why don’t you tell me exactly what it is you want me to do for you? Aside from the new hair style, of course…”

Once Brett started talking he couldn’t stop. Brett had a good life, of course. He made a decent living with his TV show. But he felt persecuted by his brother. He told of how Eric had always kept him down. How he had lived his whole life in Eric’s shadow and under Eric’s control. How Eric fucked with his career. How his father had always favored Eric. Eric and his dad had run his life for him since he was born, and he just wanted that to stop. But Brett didn’t just want to be his own man now – that wasn’t enough anymore. He wanted to be the top dog in the family. Eric had queered the ESPN deal for him, and now he wanted to queer things up for his older brother big time. 

When Brett finished his rant, he was breathless. The doctor sat there for a few moments, considering his response. “I think I can help you, Brett. I’ve done as much for others before. But you must understand – I can set things on the right course for you and your brother, but no more than that. I can help you to point events in the right direction, but there are simply too many variables, and the details will take on a life of their own. Can you accept that?”

Brett nodded eagerly.

“Very well. What you ask is a very tall order, far more complex than changing your haircut. In order to do this right, I will need you to bring your brother here, and we will need to go much further back than just last week. We will need to change decisions made by both of you from your childhood forward …”

Chapter 3

Brett did not expect it to be easy getting Eric to agree to see Dr. Glidestone. His older brother was as stubborn as he was cocky – and he had little patience with psychologists. Eric’s pinning him against the wall seemed about right, but his breaking down into tears was totally unexpected. The uncertainty in Eric’s life had left him vulnerable, and convincing him that he needed professional help turned out to be a snap.

Eric had settled into a suite at the Plaza in New York. Brett had offered him his spare bedroom, but Eric wasn’t interested in spending time in his brother’s cramped Manhattan condo. Eric was used to the finer things, and Brett – well, he never could afford that sort of stuff. Eric did accept Brett’s offer to drive him to his appointment with Dr. Glidestone, but made clear they would use his own car. He kept a Lexus convertible in New York for his frequent visits there, and never thought much of Brett’s taste in cars. Still, it was nice to have Brett around to help out like that. And the fact that he didn’t even have to ask Brett was pretty cool, too. Maybe Brett was finally figuring out his place in things.

Back in his days with the Rangers, Eric had a personal assistant who would drive him around and pick up his dry cleaning and basically do whatever he asked. He hadn’t gotten around to hiring anyone since he had signed with the Maple Leafs, and he missed that luxury. Maybe he would talk Brett into giving up that “Be a Player” show and moving back to Toronto. Eric could find some stupid show or something that Brett could do from there – something that would keep him happy but not take up too much time. Then he could do stuff for Eric full-time. Eric would have his dad talk to Brett about it once he got back the Lake.  

While he would never admit it to anyone, Eric was a little nervous about seeing this Dr. Glidestone. To him, hypnosis was just weird. So he was actually relieved when Brett parked the car, and walked into the office with him. “You don’t have to hold my hand, bro – I won’t run away,” Eric joked as he and Brett entered the office.

“It’s not that, Big E – the Doc said he wants me to sit in on this session with you. He wants it to be real low-key, and he finds that people are more open when there is someone else there – someone they’re comfortable with. You okay with that?”

Eric shrugged, but he was secretly glad. If it just turned out to be him and Brett hanging out and talking to some guy, maybe there was nothing to worry about after all.

Eric and Brett stepped into Dr. Glidestone’s office, and the doctor was immediately impressed by Eric’s size. He’d met with Brett before, of course, and Brett was a big guy – 6’-3” and 215 pounds. But Eric was two inches taller and 30 pounds heavier, and where Brett had been out of professional sports for nearly a decade, Eric was still in peak physical form. Beyond Eric’s physical size, he exuded a confidence and strength that made him seem bigger than life. Eric was in good spirits, and while his confidence was palpable, the doctor did observe the awkwardness that jocks often exhibit, regardless of their overall confidence, when they find themselves out of their element.

“I’m very pleased to meet you, Eric,” said Dr. Glidestone, extending his hand. Eric’s grip was strong, almost painfully so, the doctor noted. “I like to keep my sessions as informal as possible – that’s why I asked Brett to join us.”

Eric nodded. “I’m cool with Brett being here. He told me you really helped him out.”

“Yes, well, time will tell,” the doctor mused. “In any case, I’m going to lead you both through some relaxation exercises, and when you and Brett are in a receptive state, we can begin the therapy.”

“Brett?” Eric interjected. “What are you going to hypnotize Brett for?”

“I’m sure Brett explained my methods, Eric. We’re going to revisit your history this morning – both yours and Brett’s – and we will need your brother’s input as well as your own. There’s no need to be nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” Eric said, a little defensively. “We can talk about anything you want.”

“Excellent – we are here for you, after all,” Dr. Glidestone said. “Your brother put it very well when he scheduled the appointment – he said that he wanted to ‘do what’s right for Eric.’ Isn’t that right, Brett? So why don’t you both take a seat and we’ll get started. I know your time is valuable, as is mine, and I don’t want to take up any more than necessary.”

“ ‘Preciate it,” Eric mumbled as he hopped into the nicer of the two chairs that had been set up for the session. Brett casually took the other. The doctor lowered the lights a bit, and took a seat where he could observe the brothers.

“I’m going to lead you through a few relaxation exercises before we get into this. Just close your eyes and listen to my voice…” Of course, this was more than just a relaxation exercise. Dr. Glidestone’s soft tone belied the powerful hypnosis at work. Slowly, gently, he eased his subjects into the hypnotic state that would render them vulnerable to his powers.

Chapter 4

“Now, Eric, Brett,” Dr, Glidestone said, “Are you two ready to begin?”

Eric nodded slowly. He felt sort of like he did after a concussion. He could remember the doc talking him through the induction, but there was something weird about the whole thing. Almost like a sense of déjà vu. “Am I hypnotized,” he asked dreamily.

Dr. Glidestone laughed. “Not exactly, Eric. It’s a good deal more complicated than that, and too long a story to get into right now. But simply, yes – I have placed you and Brett in a very relaxed and receptive state. So, shall we start?”

Eric and Brett both nodded. “Very well,” said Dr. Glidestone. “Now, Eric – what do you do for a living?”

“I’m a professional hockey player,” Eric said, just a bit smugly.

“Yes, of course. And what does your brother do?”

Eric paused. “I dunno – some TV bullshit…”

“Brett – could you elaborate?”

“Sure,” Brett replied sleepily. “I host ‘Be a Player’ on cable. It’s a weekly show that…”

“Yes, that’s right. We covered that during your last session as I recall. Now, I’d like for us all to go back a bit earlier, shall we? Eric, please tell me a little bit about your childhood…”

“It was awesome,” Eric replied. He sure didn’t feel hypnotized. He felt groggy and hyper-alert at the same time, and his memories were move vivid and clear than he ever remembered. “I think it had to be the best time a guy could have. I had parents who loved me and supported me. A kid brother who always looked up to me. Ever since I can remember everybody treated me special, ya know? I was really popular in school, always the best athlete, always the biggest guy. I never once doubted that I was destined for great things.”

“Very good, Eric,” replied the doctor. “And how were your marks?”

 “Always straight A’s, Doc,” Eric beamed. “I could have been valedictorian if I hadn’t missed so much school for hockey. Mom always said I had the highest IQ in the whole school.”

“Did you have a lot of girlfriends?”

“Sure, I’ve always been real popular with the ladies. They all wanted a piece of me even back then – I pretty much had to beat them off with my hockey stick. I never really had a steady girl though. I guess just liked to play the field.”

The doctor smiled. “And still do, from what I read in the papers.”

“What can I say, Doc?” Eric said, smiling broadly. “I guess I’m too much man for just one woman.”

“Very well, Eric,” said Dr. Glidestone. “I’m going to ask you a few personal questions. I just want to remind you that anything you say will never leave this room, but you must answer all my questions, and answer truthfully. Do you understand that, Eric?”

Eric nodded.

“Tell me, Eric – how old were you when you first had sex with a woman?”

“Sixteen, doc,” Eric replied with a cocky smile. “Jenny Carver…”

“Very good. And – have you ever had sex with a man?”

Eric frowned, and said nothing.

“Remember, you must answer my questions…”

Eric blushed a little, as if he was embarrassed. “Well, I wouldn’t call it sex exactly. I mean – it was just fooling around when I was a kid…”

“Go on, Eric. Tell me about it, please.”

“Well, it was nothing, really. Like I said, just kids fooling around. It was when I was just starting out in junior hockey. Mike Stevens, one of the older guys on the team – he might have even been a senior – said he was going to hang out and skate a little longer after practice, and asked me if I wanted to stay and work out with him. Hey – I was always up for more time on the ice. Mike was team captain, and I guess I was kinda flattered. So we skated a bit. It was just us there, and he was a lot bigger than me…”

“Did you ever wonder why Mike picked you, Eric? Didn’t you ever worry that maybe he saw something in you?”

Eric frowned, and shook his head silently.

“Very well, Eric – let’s move on. Now, Mike was bigger than you, wasn’t he? How tall was he?”

“I dunno. He was like a head taller than me – maybe six foot. Anyhow, when we were done practicing, we went back to the locker room – like I said, it was just the two of us. When we were showering, he kept looking at me, sorta like he was checking me out or something. I didn’t think much about it at first, because guys are always kinda checking each other out, ya know? This was different though – more intense – and it made me remember that Mike seemed to check me out a lot, out of the corner of his eye when he didn’t think anybody would see him. Anyhow, when we got back to the lockers, he made some crack about how I was popping wood or something. He seemed a little nervous too, I guess, and then he asked if I’d ever had a blowjob. I said no, and he asked if I wanted one.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I said sure – who wouldn’t? It was really hot, too. Better than a lot of the girls I’ve had…”

“Was that the only time, Eric?”

“We did it a few times, actually. Whenever we were alone together. Then he graduated and that was it.”

“I see – was there ever anybody else?”

Eric didn’t answer right away.

“You must answer me, Eric. You have to tell the truth…”

Eric sighed with embarrassment and replied quietly, “Yeah – there was one other guy.”

“And…” Dr. Glidestone prompted.

 “Please, Doc…”

“Eric – you must answer.”

“Well, um – it was… It was like after the first couple of times with Mike. I hadn’t been with a girl yet or anything, and I was horny all the time. And I thought it would be fun to – well, try it again, you know? It was so much better than just jerking off.”

“Who was this other boy, Eric?”

“Well, I was getting ready for bed and all, and Brett was…”

Dr. Glidestone broke in. “Brett? It was Brett? You had your younger brother suck you off?” He could see Brett squirming in the other chair.

“Well, it was just fooling around and all…”

“And how long did this go on, Eric?”

Eric was very embarrassed now. “Um – I dunno. A couple of years?”

“I see. And did you… well, do Brett as well?”

“Well, no…” Eric replied.

“So you had your brother suck your penis for a couple of years, and you never reciprocated? Does that strike you as fair?”

“I… well, it’s not like I made him do it…”

“Brett – did your brother make you suck him off?”

“No,” Brett replied in a small voice, “he didn’t make me do anything. I just wanted to – you know – do what was right for him. I thought maybe he’d like me better…”

“Okay – I think I’ve heard enough of this,” Dr. Glidestone said, reviewing his notes. “Eric – you’ve gotten a few of your facts wrong. But don’t worry – we’re here to set things right. You want that, don’t you?”

“Uh – sure…”

“Let’s get started then, shall we? First off, you said that the boy who offered to suck your penis was a senior, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, Mike Stevens…”

“But it wasn’t Mike, was it? It was a freshman like you.”

Doubt clouded Eric’s face. He tried to remember. He had been certain that it had been Mike Stevens, but now he wasn’t sure. “I don’t remember…”

“Sure you do. He was a freshman like you, only smaller. In fact, he was one of the smallest guys on the team…”

Eric’s brain shuffled through the names and faces like a rolodex. He couldn’t remember. Then it hit him. It wasn’t Mike Stevens. It was Mike’s kid brother, Kenny. How could he have mixed that up? Every time Eric had thought about it over the years he had very clearly pictured Mike Stevens, one of the biggest kids on the team, kneeling between his legs. He had always remembered looking down on Mike’s mop of curly brown hair. But now he couldn’t picture that at all. He could only picture runty Kenny Stevens, his freckles and bright red hair. It didn’t seem possible that he could have remembered it wrong. But he was sure now. It had been Kenny.

“Um, I guess you’re right. I thought it was Mike Stevens, but it wasn’t – it was his kid brother Kenny. He was a freshman like me. I remember how red his hair was…”

“Very good. See – we’re already making progress. Now then – you said that Kenny sucked your penis, isn’t that right?”

“Yeah – I remember that.”

“But that’s not how it happened, Eric. You sucked him, didn’t you?”

Eric was about to correct him – there was no way that he would have ever sucked a dick, much less Kenny Stevens’s. But before he could open his mouth, he suddenly did remember. He gasped out loud.

“I know, Eric – sometimes these memories can be painful. But it’s important that we work through this. Please tell me about it.”

“I – well, I thought that… but now I just don’t know.” Eric paused as his brain tried to piece it together. “I guess it was after practice, like I said before. We were clowning around and were the last ones there. I remember that Mike told us to cut it out, and asked Kenny if he wanted a ride home with him. Kenny said he and I would just walk home later. Everybody else had gone already when we went back to the showers. I remember how red his pubes were, and I guess I made some crack about it. And then we got back and were getting dressed and he sorta dared me to suck…”

Dr. Glidestone broke in. “No, Eric – you brought it up. Isn’t that right? You asked Kenny, didn’t you?”

Eric paused. “Uh, sort of. I was kinda checking him out, ya know? Like guys always do. And he sort of caught me looking at him. He asked me if I liked what I saw, and I just laughed. Then we started talking about sex – girls and stuff – and I asked him if he’d ever had a blowjob before. And he said sure, he’d had loads of ‘em, but I didn’t believe him. Then he asked me if I ever had, and I told him no. So I said that maybe I’d do him if he’d do me, just to see what it was like. But he said he wasn’t a queer and wouldn’t do it. So I said it wasn’t queer – it was just two guys helping each other out. And he said if it wasn’t queer, then why don’t I just do him, so I did.”

“Just like that?” the doctor asked.

Eric nodded.

“Did you enjoy it?”

“I dunno – it was okay I guess.”

“You liked it very much, Eric. Didn’t you?” Eric shook his head in denial. That couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t. He would have remembered…

“You LOVED it, in fact,” the doctor continued. “That’s why you asked Brett if you could suck his dick too, isn’t it?”

 “No!” Eric cried out, but it was too late. He remembered the night he asked Brett. He remembered looking hungrily at his younger brother’s little cock. He remembered taking it into his mouth…

 “Please,” he cried out. “I don’t understand what’s happening...”

“There’s no reason to get excited. You just sit back and relax. I want to talk with your little brother for a bit anyway. Brett – can you tell me about the first time your brother sucked your penis for you?”

“Well, it was in the fall. Eric and I had separate bedrooms, but we shared a bathroom. He was going through puberty at the time, and was all proud of how hairy he was getting everywhere. Used to show it off all the time. So I was coming out of the shower, and he was in there doing something. I thought it was kinda weird – you know, like he was just hanging out and doing stuff as an excuse to stay in there while I was in the shower. Checking me out, ya know? And when I got out he made some crack about how little my thing was and how I didn’t have any hair yet. He kept making jokes and finally he starts talking about blowjobs and stuff – I think he was trying to get me to throw some wood, and sure enough I did. So he says I must be a fag or something, and wouldn’t I really want a stud like him to suck me off and all. So I said if he wanted to, I wouldn’t say anything.”

Eric whimpered at hearing this.

“I just thought it was talk,” Brett continued. “I didn’t figure he would actually do it. But the next thing I know he’s on his knees sucking me off. And it was fucking awesome, too!”

“And how long did this go on, Brett?”

“Not long – I couldn’t have lasted more than a minute…”

“I meant,” Dr. Glidestone interrupted, “did this episode repeat?”

“Oh, sure. We did it lots. Once I got into high school and got a girlfriend we did it a lot less, but Eric was always the best…”

“Okay – thank you Brett. Now Eric, is what Brett just described correct?”

“Yes,” Eric replied pathetically, “I remember it…”

“Very good. Now, tell me about the time your father caught you.”

“W-w-what do you mean?” Eric asked nervously.

“I mean tell me about the time your father walked in on you sucking your little brother’s cock. It must have come as quite a shock to him to see his number one son – his pride and joy – down on his knees like a whore, sucking off his kid brother.”

Eric blushed deeply. This never happened, he screamed to himself. This never fucking happened! But even as he told himself that, he remembered. He could see the look on his father’s face – the rage, the shame, the horror. He could remember feeling like he had just taken a punch in the stomach.

“Tell me,” Dr. Glidestone ordered.

“I – I tried to tell him... I tried to explain, but he wouldn’t listen to me – he just stormed out of the room. I ran after him, and… He hit me. Hard. Right in the face. Carl – um, I mean my dad – he’d never done that before. It was the first time he ever hit me.”

“It wasn’t the last either, was it?”

“No,” Eric replied pathetically. “He was always mad at me after that…”

“Did he ever talk to you about it?”

“No. I always wanted to explain to him – you know, that I wasn’t a fag or anything – that it was just guys fooling around. But every time I tried to bring it up he would get so mad, and I didn’t want him to hit me again. So I guess I just stopped trying …”

“Things were never the same with your father after that, were they?”

Eric shook his head silently, and Dr. Glidestone turned to Brett. “Did your father ever talk to you about it?”

Brett paused. “Not right away. I guess it was like a couple weeks later that he called me into his den. He told me that he didn’t blame me – that he knew it was Eric’s fault – and that I shouldn’t feel bad. He said that just because you let a fag give you a blowjob, it doesn’t make you gay.”

“LIAR!” Eric screamed. “Dad would never say that – he’s lying…”

“That’s enough, Eric!” Dr. Glidestone interrupted. “Brett is telling the truth. Surely you know that.” And as before, the words made it true. Eric nodded meekly, and Brett continued.

“He said that he had always thought that Eric would be a champion. That he had put all his energy into giving Eric what he needed to be the best. But he said that now he knew he had been wrong; that he had pretty much ignored me my whole life and that he was sorry for that, and he promised to make it up to me. From that point on, Carl was always there for me.”

“And how did your father treat Eric?” the doctor asked.

“He was real tough on him. It was like everything Eric said was stupid, and everything he did was wrong. He yelled at him about almost anything, even in front of people. Called him a fag and everything. Really humiliated him. It was really hard on Eric, because they had always been so close before. But now Carl didn’t want anything to do with him. And the harder Eric tried to please him, the more Carl ignored him. Eric finally just gave up.”

Eric could feel his eyes welling up with tears. Everything about him had always been firmly rooted in the support and affection that he had always received from his father. His dad had always been there for him, not for Brett. But every word Brett spoke was taking all of that away from him. He could feel the grip of this new version of his life taking over. He could sense the changes taking hold.

“Why do you think your father behaved that way, Eric?”

“I don’t know. I guess he just couldn’t accept that I was…” Eric paused.

“Please go on, Eric,” said the doctor.

“That I was gay,” he answered tentatively. It was as if he were afraid of what would happen if he said the wrong thing. His voice had none of its previous strength or confidence. “Up to then, he had always done whatever he could to build me up. Now he was doing the opposite. I understood, though. I knew what he was doing. He had picked Brett over me. It hurt, but I understood. If he was going to build Brett up, he had to break me down.”

“Would you agree with your brother’s assessment, Brett?” the doctor asked.

“Yeah – Carl even told me that I was born when I was because he had wanted Eric to always have a little brother looking up to him, but who wouldn’t give him any real competition in the family. He and Mom waited two years before even trying to have me. He said that once he found out Eric was a fag, he knew he’d never be man enough to make it in hockey. I was going to have to be the top dog in the Lindros family, and he knew he was going to have to take some aggressive measures. I appreciated what Carl did for me, he changed my life, man – I owe him everything. But I never liked what he did to Eric.”

“What sort of ‘measures’ did your father take?” asked Dr. Glidestone. He noticed a small smile creep onto Brett’s face.

“Well, a lot of stuff, the way he treated him… But I guess I’m talking about the supplements.”

“Supplements?”

“Yeah – you know, nutritional supplements, energy drinks. Carl always made them for us for breakfast every day. A big glass for each of us. But after… Um, after he found out about Eric, you know – well, he changed them.”

“Changed them how, Brett?”

“Well, he started to make a different one for each of us – before, we both got the same. I only found out about this later, but he juiced mine up with HGH and testosterone and all sorts of shit that would give me a real boost in size and strength. He stopped it before I got into anything where they would test, but it still gave me a real head start, you know? From that point on I was always the biggest kid on the team. I mean, I grew like a fucking weed. I couldn’t have been much taller than 5 foot that first year, but the next year I was 5’-5” – same as Eric. A year later I was like 5’-10”, and then over 6 foot the following year. I grew like two or three inches the year after that. I had to get a whole new wardrobe twice a year for a while there. Mom said she thought I’d never stop. I was 6’-3” when I went to the nationals. I guess I grew the last few inches over the next couple years.”

 “And Eric?”

Brett frowned again. “I never knew for sure what Carl put in his, but must have been some bad stuff – hormone suppressing drugs or something to keep his body from producing the stuff he needed to grow and mature. I mean, he never grew after that. Not another inch. And it really pissed him off to have to get my hand-me-downs. By the time I was in high school with him, he was wearing my old shit and it was still three sizes too big for him. Mom tried to do some alterations and stuff, but it always looked kinda funny on him. Carl said that it was stupid to buy new clothes for Eric when I was growing out of stuff after a few months. Eric was like 5’-5” the day Carl caught him blowing me, and he was just going through puberty. But it was like he just stopped, lost ground even. No matter how hard he worked out on the weights, he couldn’t gain an ounce of muscle.”

Brett’s voice was stronger now, and his frown had faded. “I don’t know what was in that shit, but whatever it was it really fucked Eric up good. He didn’t have any strength or energy or anything. Even when he was still bigger than me I could whip him. He was just so weak. When I think about him sticking it out on the team like that, I’m just amazed that was able to do as long as he did. It was only JV, of course. Even the younger kids were taller than him and putting on muscle, but Eric was this short, skinny weakling. He wouldn’t give up, though. Finally they had to just cut him. He had a lot of heart, I’ll give him that…”

“Eric – how did all that feel?” asked Dr. Glidestone.

Eric didn’t say anything at first. He was still trying to process all of what Brett had said. But soon enough, the new memories had locked in.

“I… I liked hockey. I mean, I knew I wasn’t any good at it anymore – I just didn’t have the size or strength to compete. But it was still fun. Practice, at least. I never got to play in real games, not unless it was a blowout. Brett came to my games whenever he could, even though all I ever did was warm the bench. My dad never did. I knew they’d cut me sooner or later – when they needed my slot for one of the younger guys. That’s what the JV squad is for – not seniors who can’t cut it. I knew that all along. I was just afraid that when Brett came to my high school they would cut me for him…”

“And did that happen, Eric”

“Not really. I did get cut my senior year, but not for Brett. He was such a great hockey player that he went straight to the varsity squad!”

“And how did that make you feel?”

“I don’t know. I was proud of him, but I guess it was sort of embarrassing too. You know – my younger brother being on the varsity team his freshman year, and me getting cut from JV as a senior…”

“But you must have had a lot of experience with that sort of disappointment, Eric. With your little brother being so much more successful than you…”

Eric paused to digest this, and then replied, “I… I’ve always been proud of Brett. I’ve always supported him, went to his games and rooted for him. When he went to Nationals – jeez, I guess I was 18. Anyway, I even dressed up in this costume my mom made and painted my face and all to support him. I’ve always been there for him, always tried to…”

Eric paused. He had a pained look on his face. “Please go on,” said the doc.

“I – um – I always tried to… To Do What’s Right for Brett.” Eric had heard his dad use that phrase a thousand times, but always with him as the subject. What was happening?

“Weren’t you at all jealous of Brett?” asked Dr. Glidestone.

“Sure – I guess I was jealous too, of all the attention and everything. Especially when he started playing minor league hockey. Because from then on everything really was about Brett…”

Chapter 5

“Very good,” Dr. Glidestone said, scratching his beard. “Perhaps we could discuss some more recent history? Now then, Eric, tell me again what you do for a living?”

Eric looked truly confused. “I – um – I’m a professional… I play – uh… hockey?” Eric said, his voice trailing off as if he didn’t quite believe what he was saying. “Um, I think…”

“Come now, Eric – surely you don’t expect me to believe that you are a professional athlete. Not at your size. Not after you sat here and told me that you spent all of your time on the bench on your high school team, and even got dropped from the JV team. I can’t believe that you could play hockey professionally. You mean Brett, don’t you?”

“Oh yeah – um, Brett is… He’s a professional hockey player. He plays forward for the Islanders – best in the league…” Eric was surprised at how easily the words came.

“And you, Eric?” Dr. Glidestone pressed. “I thought you might have chosen something that would have helped the family. Something to help Brett, perhaps?”

“Oh yeah,” Eric said as if it were news to him, but then of course the details came to him. “Dad made me study that stuff – physical therapy, ya know? He said it would be good for the family. ‘Do What’s Right for Brett,’ he used to say all the time. He was right, I guess. Brett needed someone around him who knew about that stuff.”

“So you do physical therapy for Brett?”

“Yeah – I work with a number of athletes. Brett was a big help with that. He hooked me up with some of his teammates on the Islanders, and word got around. It keeps me real busy...”

Dr. Glidestone was intrigued at how Eric was trying to spin this story – still trying to assert himself. But, of course, he had other ideas. “That’s not true, Eric. Not all of it, at least.”

“It isn’t?” Eric asked plaintively. He was so sure of himself when he spoke of his physical therapy business, his gratitude for his brother’s help. But now, the words barely out of his mouth, he wasn’t so sure. Everything was so confusing – it felt like things were changing by the second.

“Eric, why did you study physical therapy? Why did you learn massage?”

“To Do What’s Right for Brett…”

“That’s right. And how does it help Brett if you use your skills for other athletes?”

Eric’s face was clouded by doubt. “I guess it really doesn’t…”

“Precisely – that is why you work only with Brett.”

“Only Brett?”

“That’s correct, Eric – you work for Brett.” Eric nodded as the doctor turned to Brett. “Now Brett, tell me about your brother’s work for you.”

“Oh, Eric’s great most of the time. It was Carl’s idea, of course – to have Eric come to New York with me. Eric had worked with me through high school and junior hockey, and Carl thought it would be good for me to take him to New York with me after the Islanders drafted me. You know, someone I knew and could trust. Eric resisted at first – I think he wanted to stay in Toronto for some reason, maybe because mom was the only one who ever really looked after him – but Carl was adamant. It’s worked out well, I think. Eric and I get along great, and it has been awesome to have somebody to deal with all the shit for me.”

“What sort ‘shit’ does he deal with for you?”

“Oh, you know – everything. He takes care of the house, and the yard. He does the shopping and picks up the dry cleaning and stuff. Keeps the cars clean and picks me up at the airport. Drives me around and shit. Oh – and training, of course. He’s not strong, but he’s got a great pair of hands. Carl was right about making him take those classes.”

“And how do you like this arrangement, Eric?”

“I… It’s okay. It’s not hard and Brett is usually nice. I have a nice room in his house, and he gives me lots of nice clothes and stuff. The clothes are kinda big on me usually, but he gets so much free stuff it doesn’t make sense to buy stuff just for me.”

“And what does your brother pay you?”

“Not a lot. Don’t really need much though – I don’t have to pay rent or buy food or anything…”

“He doesn’t get a salary or anything, if that’s what you mean,” Brett said. “Room and board, like he said, and an allowance for doing the shopping. But I put money into his 401k every year – you know, so he’ll be okay if anything ever happens to me.”

“Okay, Eric – what sort of physical therapy do you do with your brother?”

“Um, after a game or whatever, Brett is really sore sometimes. He likes a massage when he gets home.”

“And you enjoy that?”

“Oh yeah. Brett really enjoys it, and if it makes him feel good, then I’m happy.”

“So you really do love Brett then?”

 “Sure – he’s my brother…”

“Now, Eric – I know you and Brett used to ‘fool around’ when you were younger. How old were you when that stopped?”

Eric blushed. “I guess after I graduated and was taking classed for massage. I wanted to live on-campus, but my dad said it was too expensive, so I had to commute. It was over an hour on the bud each way. Dad sort of set up part of the basement for me, like it was my own little apartment, and I had my own door and stuff. That way he could fix up my old room upstairs for Brett. You know, like a gym for him with weights and stuff, and cases to put all his trophies and stuff in. Anyway, I wasn’t around a lot, most of the time I was home I was down in the basement. Brett was real busy with hockey and had a girlfriend and all, so we just sort of stopped.”

“You were disappointed when it stopped, weren’t you?”

“I guess…”

“I know you are just trying to protect your brother, Eric,” Dr. Glidestone said to him, “but you have nothing to worry about. I can assure you that nothing you say will ever leave this room.” Eric whimpered quietly, frightened of what the doctor was about to say.

Eric shuddered. “Please. Stop doing this. I don’t want you to…”

“Eric – please answer the question. It never stopped, did it?”

“No, okay?” Eric nearly shouted. “Are you happy now? He still lets me suck his cock sometimes!”

“And Brett – when you first got a girlfriend you wanted to stop, didn’t you?”

Brett nodded. “Sure, I mean, I liked girls, and Jenny Carver was hot. She was older, too. In Eric’s class, I think… So next time Eric asked, I said no. I thought maybe we were getting too old for that sort of stuff, ya know? And I could get it from a girl now. Anyhow, Eric practically went nuts, doc – crying and begging me to please let him keep doing it. Just every once in a while he said. So I finally said okay…”

“Eric?” Dr. Glidestone asked. “Is all this true?”

“I loved him,” Eric said miserably, “Everything I did was for him. And now he wasn’t gonna let me do that for him anymore? Just because of…” Eric paused for a moment. “Because of Jenny Carver? I was better than some dumb girl. So, yeah. I didn’t want to stop – it was all I had. I… I don’t ever want it to stop!”

Chapter 6

Dr. Glidestone allowed that to hang there for a moment before continuing. “Don’t you feel better now, Eric? It’s good to tell me the truth. I can only help you if you are completely honest with me.”

“But it’s not real!” Eric whined. “You’re doing this to me…”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You said these things because you know they are true. Isn’t that right, Eric?”

Eric nodded as an image of Brett’s body flashed across his mind – his broad muscular chest, his powerful thighs. Oh Christ, Eric thought, I’m getting hard! He could remember lusting after his hot younger brother, and how excited he was on the occasions when Brett, usually drunk, would let him blow him.

And just like that, it was all real.

“Very good, Eric,” Dr. Glidestone went on. “Perhaps you can tell me a bit more about your sex life. Other sexual partners…”

Eric opened his mouth to speak, but the words died in his throat as the new reality created itself. “I… I mean, it’s like…”

“Now there is no cause for embarrassment, my boy. ‘The truth shall set you free,’ as they say. Just tell me…”

Eric swallowed hard. It was too horrible to contemplate, much less say aloud. But he was powerless to resist. “There isn’t anybody,” he mumbled.

“Well, not now perhaps. But in the past, Eric. Any sexual experiences you’ve had over the years…”

Eric just shook his head. “There’s nobody. I mean since Kenny. I’ve only ever done it with Brett…”

“Don’t you think that’s rather sad, Eric?” the doctor asked. “I mean to say, Brett surely has other sexual outlets, and yet the extent of your sexual activity is blowing him?”

 “Yes, sir,” Eric answered.

“But what do you do for – ahem – relief , when your brother is away or with one of his girlfriends?”

Eric just shrugged. “Nothing.”

“You masturbate, of course, don’t you, Eric?”

Eric nodded, blushing.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about, Eric,” the doctor said. “It’s all perfectly natural. Now, tell me about your sexual fantasies …”

Eric said nothing.

“Eric, you must tell me,” Dr. Glidestone said sternly. “What do you think about when you masturbate?”

Eric blushed deeper, and stared at the floor. “Brett,” he whispered. “I think about Brett…”

“Very good,” Dr. Glidestone said, turning to Brett. “Now then, Brett,” he asked. “What do your girlfriends think of your brother?”

“Depends, I guess. I mean, they can get pretty weirded out by him, you know? Always hanging around like a little kid or something. And always so jealous. Beth, the girl I’m dating now – she’s a model, you know – she likes him okay, but she gets freaked out when she runs into him at the house. So now he has to stay in his room when she comes over…”

“Couldn’t Eric just go out with friends when she stays over?” asked the doctor.

Brett snorted in response. “Eric doesn’t have friends, Doc. I mean, I let him hang with me and my buddies, but it isn’t like he could ever hang with any of them without me being there too.

“But Eric does socialize with you and your friends?”

“Yeah – it doesn’t seem right leaving him home by himself all the time. And they seem to like Eric well enough, I guess. Besides, it’s great to have somebody to drive when we’re all out partying.”

“You always drive, Eric – when you go out with Brett and his friends?”

“Yeah – Brett says that it’s part of my job. It isn’t a big deal, most of the time, and I get to hang out with Brett’s friends.”

“Most of the time?”

“Well, a couple of years ago, when Brett took me out for my 30^th birthday, I thought it was gonna be just me and him, but it was some of his friends from the team, too. When I tried to order a beer, he wouldn’t let me. He said I couldn’t have one because I had to drive, and even one beer was too much for a guy as little as me. I thought since it was my birthday maybe somebody else could drive. Just that once. But Brett said that they all needed to blow off steam, and it’s not like I was paying or anything. One of the guys – Garth I think – said he would pay me. Kind of as a joke. But they all chipped in like $100. Everybody but Brett, anyway. The $300 was pretty cool – I never had that much money of my own, but it was kind of embarrassing, too. Of course, Brett made me put the money in my 401k. Anyhow, I just figured that it was my birthday, and I should be able to party with the guys.”

“He’s such a baby, Doc,” Brett broke in. “It’s not like he’d have been hanging out with us in the first place if he wasn’t driving. Truth is a lot of the guys just think he’s a weirdo.”

Eric sniffled. “It was my 30^th birthday is all I’m saying…”

“And I can’t believe you’re still bitching about your 30^th birthday. I gave you a pretty nice present – or did you forget about that?”

“You mean the TV for my room?”

“Oh for Christ’s sake, Eric – I gave you one of my Stanley Cup rings – show the doc, Eric,” instructed Brett.

Eric’s hand was reaching into his shirt before he even realized it. He pulled out the ring, which hung on a gold chain around his neck. He stared at it for a moment, as if seeing it for the first time. He remembered that this was something he’d coveted his whole life. But not like this, he thought. Then, of course, he remembered how happy he had been when Brett gave it to him, and held it out proudly for the doctor to admire. “I have to wear it around my neck because it’s way too big for me.”

“I told him he should wear it as a cock ring,” Brett chortled, “but it would probably be too big for that too. Eric wanted to get it sized – you know, so he could wear it on his finger, but I might need it myself some day. I got three more of ‘em, but still, you never know. Besides, it would look fucking huge on that little hand of his…”

 “So you’re telling me, Brett, that your brother has no real friends of his own?”

“Nah – at least not since we were kids. He’s always been kind of a loner. I try to include him in stuff when I can, though. Always have. My buddies from the team are usually pretty cool about it. Like I said, some of the guys think he’s weird, but they still treat him okay. Ya know – out of respect for me. In fact, we were all out at Nassau Golf Club last week, and Eric had a pretty good time.”

“Do you enjoy golf, Eric?”

“Oh yeah – almost as much as hockey…”

“Eric doesn’t golf,” Brett broke in.

“I thought you said that he was golfing with you just last weekend.”

“I’m sorry,” Brett said with a grin, “I guess I could have made myself clearer. Eric doesn’t golf – he caddies for me. The other guys use club caddies, but I don’t know – I’m just more comfortable with Eric. Besides, he likes it. Don’t you, Eric?”

“I don’t know how to golf,” Eric said quietly. “I’m not any good at sports and stuff, so I’m just glad Brett lets me come with him and his friends. The bag gets heavy sometimes, but I’m happy he lets me spend time with him and his friends…”

Chapter 7

“That’s good, Eric. Very good. We’re almost through here. Just one more thing before we finish up. You said earlier that you were a good student. Did that change after the incident with your father?”

Eric looked stricken. “No, it didn’t – I…” Eric began, but the doctor cut him off dismissively.

“Come now – after a traumatic experience like that? You expect me to believe that having your father catch you sucking off your own little brother, him beating you and cutting you off from his affection – that didn’t cause your grades to suffer at all? I find that rather hard to believe, Eric.”

“I – well, I mean…” Eric struggled.

“Never mind, Eric – I guess I’ll just have to see what your brother has to say about this. Brett?”

“It’s like this, Doc,” Brett said, grinning again, “I figured that something Carl had put into his supplement made him dumber – sorry, Eric, I mean slower. Anyhow – it’s the only thing that makes sense. Eric had like a 130 IQ – Mom had him tested. She always used to go on and on about what a fucking genius he was supposed to be. Then, all of the sudden, he’s flunking all his classes.”

“There can be any number of explanations for that,” stated the doctor. “I think the sort of trouble Eric had with your father would certainly have affected his studies.”

“Well, Doc – it was the funniest thing. Eric’s grades were always straight A’s. But after, I mean he couldn’t do anything. He went from perfect grades to C’s and D’s and F’s. So Mom had him tested again. And his IQ came in lower. It came in under 100! They tested him like a dozen times, but it was always the same. I mean, he was a freshman in high school, and now it was like he belonged in grade school or something.”

Eric felt a numbing fog start to cloud his thoughts. “Please stop,” he pleaded.

“It’s okay, Eric – the Doc says we have to tell him everything, right? Mom was totally freaked out. Carl of course couldn’t have given a shit less.”

“Eric – tell me how all this felt,” the doctor asked.

“Um – I, uh… it made me feel bad. I guess. Mom always made a big deal of how smart I was. And now all of the sudden I was dumb, and I had to take all these special classes and stuff.”

“And these special classes – they helped you?”

Eric nodded. “I guess so…”

“Oh big time, doc,” Brett cut in. “Like I said, before he got moved to special ed he could hardly even tie his shoes anymore. It was weird – he had to start over with all sorts of stuff – like math and reading. So the classes were really good for him. ‘Course, that’s when all the teasing really started…”

“Okay now, Eric,” Dr. Glidestone interjected, “what about this teasing?”

Eric swallowed hard. His eyes had a more unfocused look to them now. “Um, the kids. They teased me a lot when I got moved to special ed. Even the kids who were my friends before. It wasn’t too mean at first. I mean, I was still as big as most of them.” Eric paused again, having lost his place in the story, and Brett cut in.

“Well, you know how kids are, doc. At that age, all the kids are going through puberty and growing real fast. Once they all realized that Eric was turning out to be a shrimp, they got kind of malicious. The boys kept growing bigger and stronger all through high school, but Eric stayed the same skinny little kid. You know – the perfect target for bullies. But it was like everybody bullied poor Eric. They were always beating up on him and calling him a retard and stuff. By the time he was a senior, even the freshmen were picking on him. Gym class and lunch were the real bad, I think. Those were the times he wasn’t in special ed.”

Eric groaned, and Dr. Glidestone turned to him. “Eric?”

“Brett’s right,” Eric said quietly. “But hockey practice was the worst, because those guys used to be my friends before. And now they were all big jocks. And I was just a little runt now. And they picked on me. And when those guys went up to varsity, I was just some little retard to the younger kids. They didn’t remember that I used to be normal. I never got to play anyway, so they made me sorta like the equipment manager. Run around and fetch stuff for them. Towels and drinks and stuff…”

“And it was like that all though high school?” Dr. Glidestone asked.

“Pretty much,” Eric answered. “Things got better when I was a senior though…”

“Yeah,” Brett interjected as Eric cringed, “because I was there to look after him. My freshman year, Eric was a senior. I was already pretty big – like 6’-1”, thanks to the boost Carl gave me. One of the first things I saw was some twerp – he was a sophomore I think, but I was still bigger than him. And he was way bigger than Eric. Anyway, he was giving my brother a hard time. And I was right on him and all like ‘Hey squirt! Nobody pushes my big brother around but me, got it? He might just be a little pussy who can’t fight his way out of a paper bag, but YOU better not go around saying that.’ He never bothered you again, though, did he bro? Nobody did…”

Eric shook his head silently, and Brett continued. “Sure it was a pain in the ass having to get the little guy out of trouble all the time, but hey – that’s what a brother is supposed to do…”

Dr. Glidestone ruffled quickly though his notes. “All right now. I think that’s about enough, boys. Brett – are you satisfied with our progress?”

“Oh yeah!” Brett replied eagerly.

“And Eric – did you enjoy the session?”

“I… I dunno. I’m sort of confused…”

“Not to worry, Eric – that is to be expected. I think we’ve had a very good session, but our time is just about up. Now – on the count of three, you will both wake as if from a nap. Ready now. One… Two… Three…”

Chapter 8

Eric blinked awake. He felt funny – dizzy and sort of disoriented – as if he were waking from a bad dream. He looked up, and saw Brett and Dr. Glidestone standing in front of him.

“There you go,” Dr. Glidestone said cheerfully, “All awake now. How are you feeling, Eric?”

Eric nodded. “I feel kind of weird,” he said tentatively.

“Well, not to worry. You’ve been through rather an intense experience. But successful, I think...”

“I… I don’t think I like this hypnotism stuff, Brett,” Eric said groggily.

“Don’t worry, little guy. I promise I won’t make you do it again.” Brett said with a smile. “Just take it easy for a minute and we can go home.”

Little guy? Eric thought to himself. Make me do it? What was that all about?

Brett grabbed Eric’s hand and pulled him to his feet. Everything looked funny to Eric suddenly, and it took a moment for him to realize what was wrong. He was looking up at them. Brett looked huge – he had to be a foot taller than Eric – and was powerfully muscled, bigger than any NHL center Eric had ever seen. And it wasn’t just Brett, either. Dr. Glidestone looked taller, too. The whole room felt bigger. And suddenly it dawned on Eric that – incredibly – he was smaller!

“W-w-what’s going on?” Eric stammered as he fought to regain his bearings. He felt light-headed and pressed his palms against his forehead to alleviate the wooziness. He squeezed his eyes closed, and when he opened them a few moments later, he noticed something different about his wrists.

“What happened to my arms?  The scars are gone!” He looked up at Brett for answers. “What’s going on?”

Brett turned to the doctor. “Doesn’t he remember anything?”

“Sometimes it takes a few minutes. He’s been through a tremendous change, and with his diminished mental capacity, it could take a bit longer for him…”

“What are you talking about?” Eric asked nervously. His voice was reedy and thin, and higher pitched than it should have been. He didn’t like the way it sounded.

“Just relax, Little E,” Brett said soothingly, “Everything’s gonna be…”

“Don’t call me that!” Eric shouted in his whiney voice, cutting Brett off. And then it all began to come back – all the things that Brett and the doctor had said. All the things they had made him say. All the lies, he thought.  But they weren’t lies anymore.  They felt true. No, they were true.  And Eric knew it. Everything they had just talked about had actually happened. He could remember it all...

Eric tried as he might to understand what was happening.  He was confused by the two sets of conflicting memories, and could almost feel the new memories pushing the old ones aside. Nothing made sense, and he’d never been so scared in his life.

“Am I still hypnotized?” he asked, sounding more like a frightened child than a 33-year-old man.

“Sorry, little guy,” Brett answered, squeezing Eric’s shoulder, “this is the real deal.”

Brett looked down at his brother. Eric was short and very slight now. He had narrow, bony shoulders, a thin neck and small, delicate hands. Little remained of the hulking center who had so terrorized the NHL. The only place he would be still recognizable as that person was the face, although that too was quite different. Brett recalled Eric’s rugged, handsome face. His features were sharper now. His cheeks were smooth, with stubble only barely visible on his upper lip and the tip of his cleft chin. His hair was long – shoulder length – and rather thin (this version of Eric would never have had hair replacement). His teeth were slightly crooked (Brett recalled Carl’s objection to getting the “little fag” braces). Eric’s green eyes, now wet with tears, still shined brightly, though. And while this version of Eric wasn’t handsome, he could still be considered attractive, if in a somewhat feminine way.

Brett had always loved Eric, of course. They were brothers, after all. But before the session with Dr. Glidestone, he never would have said that he particularly liked him. There had always been deep feelings of resentment and jealousy. But now he felt an affection for the little guy that hadn’t been there before, a desire to protect his small, pathetic, older brother.

When Brett pulled Eric to his feet, Eric’s hand felt totally engulfed in his brother’s meaty paw. Eric had always been proud of his strong, powerful, hands. Now, they looked like a kid’s hands, or a girl’s even – especially compared to Brett’s. Of course, standing next to Brett made him aware of just how little he now was. I mean, 5’-5” is short, but it is downright tiny when it’s standing next to 6’-6”. He knew that Brett was bigger than before, too. Eric had been 2” taller than Brett, but now Brett was 6’-6” and 260 powerful pounds – a foot taller and fully twice Eric’s weight. Eric felt intimidated by the sheer size of him.

Eric had never seen shoulders like that – so broad and powerful. Brett’s biceps were like fucking softballs, for Christ’s sake! And his chest was massive – there was no other word to describe it. Brett was like some sort of Greek god, and Eric was simply stunned by how handsome his brother was.

Before today, Eric had always loved his kid brother in a detached way. It was good to know he was there, but Eric usually had more important things on his mind. But now – the feelings that were welling up in Eric were overpowering. Eric was in love with Brett – like a schoolgirl crush. He loved him so hard it almost physically hurt. As he stared at his brother’s muscular body, he realized something else – he was getting another hard-on!

“Okay,” Brett said. “Let’s get going, bro. Say thanks to the doc.”

“Sure,” Eric mumbled, shoulders slumped shyly, his eyes barely able to look up from the floor. “Thanks – uh, sir…” Dr. Glidestone extended a hand to Eric, who shook it weakly. The doctor noted Eric’s limp, clammy handshake.

Eric was still struggling to come to terms with the muddled, contradictory memories, when he felt his kid brother’s firm grip on his bony shoulder. Brett guided him dazedly out of Dr. Glidestone’s office. Before they made it through the door, though, Eric was gripped by a blind panic. He shook free from Brett’s hand, and backed away from the door.

“No,” he whispered, shaking his head. His face was a mask of terror.

Brett frowned. “Cut it out, Eric. I said let’s go!”

“But it’s not supposed to be like this!” Eric said, choking out a sob. “You changed everything. You made me like this!”

Brett was getting pissed. “Eric, I’m warning you…” he growled, advancing on his brother. He couldn’t believe Eric was making a scene like this. “This isn’t right!” Eric gasped, his high voice quivering with emotion. “I’m the famous one! I’m the jock!”“I’m not gonna tell you again, you little shit,” Brett shouted. “Shut the fuck up and get over here now!”Eric stumbled backward, and found himself facing his reflection in a mirror. He pointed at his reflection – a pale, skinny, short, little man. Barely a man at all, he thought. “That’s not supposed to be me!”Brett was on him now. He grabbed Eric by the throat and smacked him hard across the face. Eric was momentarily stunned, his knees buckled and he sank to the floor. But before Brett could grab him again, he scrambled across the floor to Dr. Glidestone. “Please, you have to help me,” he begged, grasping at the doctor’s coat. “You made all this happen, didn’t you? You did this to me?”Dr. Glidestone did not reply. He just looked down at Eric impassively, his arms folded in front of him. “Please change me back,” Eric pleaded as Brett grabbed him by the collar, and yanked him backward. Eric was sobbing so hard he could barely get the words out. “I’m not supposed to be like this – some little freak in love with my own brother! You can’t just leave me like this! You can’t do this to me!”Dr. Glidestone watched silently as Brett dragged Eric out of his office. Another successful session, he thought…

Chapter 9

Brett dragged Eric out of the office and across the parking lot.  Eric was struggling hysterically against his brother, but it was hopeless. He managed to throw a few wild punches at Brett, but they were feeble and weak, and Brett was holding him securely at arm’s length, so Eric’s swings missed by a mile anyway. Finally, Brett had had enough. He shook Eric like a rag doll, and then smacked him again, knocking him to the pavement. Sobbing uncontrollably, Eric kneeled there in the parking lot at Brett’s feet. Brett looked on with mixed emotions. He was dealing with a new reality himself, and his feelings for his older brother were complex. He loved Eric, sure. But he expected him to do what he was told, when he was told, and Eric’s little outburst had infuriated him. Still, he could only imagine Eric’s confusion and fear at that moment.He squatted down next to his brother. “Are you okay now?”Eric sniffled, and nodded. Brett stood, and helped Eric to his feet. “Everything’s gonna be alright, Little E…” he said as he draped an arm around Eric’s shoulder and started across the parking lot again. Eric stumbled along at his side, once again in a complete daze.  He snapped out of it when they stopped beside a Cadillac Escalade.“Where’s my car?” he asked, looking around for his convertible.Brett gave him a funny look.  “Back at the house.  Why would I ever want to take your piece of crap car?”Brett helped Eric up into the SUV and hopped easily into the driver’s seat.  Brett’s conversation was like background noise as they pulled onto the highway and the cityscape sped by. Eric didn’t realize they were heading to Long Island until they were halfway across the Queensborough Bridge.“We’re going to Long Island?” he asked. “Where the fuck do you think we’re going?  I told you we were going home...”Nobody said anything for a while, and then Eric asked timidly, “Brett - what’s happening?  Everything’s all mixed up.”“It’s okay, bro.  Doc said you’d feel that way for a while.”“Everything’s changed though, hasn’t it?”“Yes, Eric,” Brett answered.  “Things are different now.”“But I really am supposed to be the famous one – the hockey star, I mean – aren’t I?”“Not anymore,” Brett answered.  “I mean, that’s how it was, but this is the way things are supposed to be.”“According to who?” Eric whined.“According to me, Little E…”“But before, when I was the famous one, it wasn’t like this for you…”“What do you mean?” Brett asked.“I mean,” Eric said tentatively, “that I was the famous one and all, but you still had a normal life. You were still a normal guy with a job and all. Not some little…”“Yeah,” Brett cut him off, shrugging, “I guess we might have gone a little overboard on all that. But hey, water under the bridge, right?”Eric digested this for a bit, absently fingering Brett’s Stanley Cup Championship ring that hung from his neck.  “It’s not fair.”Brett’s face suddenly turned deep red, and he turned on Eric in a rage. “Would it be fair for me to live in your shadow?” Brett demanded. “Would it be fair if you screwed with my life all the time? Would it be fair if everything in the fucking world was always about you?”Eric recoiled from Brett’s verbal assault, and cowered against the door as he meekly shook his head. “No,” he squeaked.“You’re damned right!” Brett boomed. “So shut the fuck up about it already, you little faggot!” Brett yelled.They drove on in silence, Eric with tears streaming down his smooth cheeks. He had been terrified that Brett would hit him again. His kid brother was so much like their dad sometimes. Brett glanced at Eric. He could only imagine the struggle going on in his brother’s head. “Look Eric, I don’t want you to be upset about this. Really I don’t. Because it’s not going to change anything. The best thing for you is to think about all that like it was just a dream, and now you’re awake.  THIS is real, Eric.  This is your life, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You gotta just accept that this is how things are supposed to be now.”“But…” Eric tried to interject, but Brett shot him a look.“When we get home I want you to lie down.” Brett said. “The Doc says you need to rest after everything that’s happened today.  Take a nap and when you wake up, you’ll feel better about everything. I’m gonna work out some, and then after your nap maybe we can go get something to eat.”Eric was about to say that he didn’t want to feel better about everything, but suddenly he pictured his brother’s body, wet with sweat from his workout – Brett’s broad, muscular shoulders, his rippling abs, and the muscles of his powerful chest. A rush of adrenaline shot through him, and drove all other thoughts from his mind as his eyes dropped to the bulge in Brett’s pants. He licked his lips. “Can I maybe – um – give you a massage, too?”Brett reached over and tousled his brother’s fine hair. “Sure thing, bro,” Brett said with a broad grin. “Anything for you…”Chapter 10“Eric.”Eric was awakened from his nap by a voice. He was in a small, darkened room, and still felt totally disoriented. He wasn’t even sure where he was at first. He reached over to turn on the light and looked around the room – single bed by one wall, a stereo, a computer, a small TV and DVD. It looked like a dorm room almost. There was a large LeRoy Neiman painting of Brett above the bed. Eric remembered that Brett had hated it and given it to him.“Eric.” The voice again. It was Brett’s voice, he realized. He remembered the intercom system. “You can come up and give me that massage now…”Eric felt a tinge of excitement as he imagined Brett laying face down on the table, and running his hands over his brother’s nude body. He immediately blushed – ashamed of himself for thinking of Brett that way. He knew that all this was wrong – that Brett had done this to him, changed him somehow. And he wanted to resist it. He knew from the hazy memories that, in some alternate reality, he should be the big stud – that he wasn’t supposed to be this pathetic little freak who was both in love with and terrified by his own brother. “What the fuck are you doing down there, little man? I said I want my massage. Now…” Eric was jolted from his reverie by Brett’s voice coming over the intercom again. “S-s-s-sorry, Brett,” he stammered. “I’ll b-b-be right there…”Eric walked from his bedroom, through the kitchen, and up the back stairs. He remembered resenting having to live in the ‘maid’s quarters’ when Brett had first bought this house, especially with all the really nice bedrooms upstairs. But still, it was nicer than the room he’d had in his parents’ basement.Brett’s room was just what you’d expect: large and light and with every amenity and gadget you could think of, from the luxurious king-size bed to the 60” flat screen TV hanging on the wall. Brett was sitting on the sofa watching SportsCenter. He stood up when Eric entered, and Eric followed him into the exercise room (a larger, fully equipped gym was located in the basement). A smaller room opening off the bedroom – probably originally envisioned at a nursery or sitting room – Brett’s exercise room had a couple pieces cardio equipment, another large flat screen, and the massage table. Brett stripped down to his boxers, his muscles rippling under the light layer of dark hair that coated his chest and arms, and hopped face down on the table without a word.Eric was shivering with anticipation, excited at the thought of running his hands across Brett’s muscular body. Again, even though in a sense this was all new to him, he knew the drill. He coated his hands with massage oil, and went to work on his brother’s back.“Um – B-b-brett?” he said nervously. “I’ll need to pull off your boxers if you want me to work your hamstrings…”“No prob, Bro,” Brett replied, his voice muffled by the face cradle.Brett lifted his ass so Eric could pull down the boxers. They slid easily down his hairy legs. Brett’s ass was lightly furred, the dark hair showing clearly over the creamy skin. There was a distinct tan line that accentuated how light his ass was. Eric worked his brother’s legs, before nervously kneading the firm, round ass cheeks. He was careful not to let his hands venture too deeply into the cleft between the cheeks – a sure way for this to end badly and prematurely.When Eric finished working his brother’s back, shoulders, legs and ass, he asked him to turn over. Brett flipped onto his back, and presented Eric with a clear view of his cock. Eric stared down at his brother’s body. Brett had the chest of a bodybuilder, and his abs were like a washboard. There was a light coating of dark hair sprinkled across his pecs, and forming a narrow trail across his belly down to his pubes. Eric unconsciously licked his lips at the sight of the long cock lying between Brett’s legs. It was nearly 9 inches, and still soft.When Eric laid his oiled hands on Brett’s pecs, it was if he’d been hit with a jolt of electricity. His brother’s muscles were firm and taut under the skin. Eric massaged the muscled chest and rippling abs, and tried to stifle a moan. His eyes were constantly darting back to the cock as it started to stiffen and swell between Brett’s legs. When the head, red and moist, finally peeked out from the foreskin, Eric nearly swallowed his tongue. Eric bit his lip and tried to concentrate, tried not to look. But he couldn’t help it – Brett was so handsome, so powerful and masculine, that Eric couldn’t keep his eyes off of him. He was almost drooling over his own brother as his hands lovingly caressed his flesh. He wanted to nibble Brett’s nips, he wanted to tongue his belly button, he wanted to press his lips against Brett’s. He just couldn’t fucking stand it. Eric paused, and cleared his throat. “Uh – Brett?”Brett lifted his head for a moment, and looked Eric in the eyes. He nodded silently, and then laid his head back down and closed his eyes. Eric’s heart was pounding away in his narrow chest. This was a special treat for him – something he and Brett had shared for the last 19 years. This was what he lived for, and he both loved and hated it. This is wrong, he told himself. This is not what I’m supposed to be...But, of course, he was helpless to resist. The desires burning inside of him – that Brett had somehow put there – were too strong. Eric reached down and took the uncut 9” snake gingerly in his trembling hand. Brett’s eyes were tightly closed, but Eric thought he noticed a hint of a smile beginning to form. Eric knew Brett’s cock better than he knew his own. Like everything else about his brother, it was perfect in every way, and Eric knew every inch and curve. Every vein. He’d watched it grow from smaller than even his own, to the monster it was now. All while they were growing up, Eric had been amazed every time Brett let him suck his cock by just how big it kept getting. It was bigger every time, and by the time Brett joined the NHL at 18, his cock was a full 12” erect, and quite a mouthful for Eric.Eric took it into his mouth hungrily, and as Brett let out a slight moan, he went to work. He knew what Brett liked, and he was quite skilled at pleasing him. His years of experience had overcome his gag reflex, so he was able to swallow Brett’s cock whole without a hitch. He went down on it all the way, burying his nose in his brother’s wiry pubes, Brett’s huge cock filling his mouth and plowing down his throat, and then pulled back all the way, leaving just the head in his mouth. Eric ran his tongue around the head and nibbled lightly on Brett’s foreskin, and then he dove down again.Eric reached his free hand down and unbuttoned his shorts, and then quietly lowered the zipper. Without missing a beat on Brett’s monster, he reached into his shorts and began to jack his own cock using just his thumb and forefinger. Soft, it was rather small – about the size of his own thumb. Erect, like it was now, it wasn’t much bigger. Three inches. Maybe four. Eric was in heaven. He knew that it wasn’t much, but in this new life it was all he could hope for. This was what he lived for – quietly pleasuring himself while sucking his brother’s beautiful cock. But he was suddenly shocked back to reality by the blow of Brett’s backhand to the side of his head…“What the fuck do you think you are doing, you little faggot?” Brett boomed, his head up and staring down at Eric, his eyes blazing with rage.Eric’s first attempt to answer was unsuccessful, seeing as how he had a mouth full of cock. He pulled back, and reluctantly let Brett’s cock slide out of his mouth. “Brett,” he said, confused, “I don’t…”Brett cut him off. “What have I told you about that queer shit?”Eric’s eyes kept shooting from Brett’s angry face, back down to his cock. Eric couldn’t keep his eyes off it. He wanted it so bad. “Please, Brett. I thought you wanted me to su…”Brett cut him off again. “You were supposed to be massaging me, you little homo, not jerking off!”“I’m sorry!” Eric pleaded. “I forgot…”“Now you listen to me,” Brett said evenly. “Put your little peanut away, and pull your shorts up. I don’t want you to ever try that gay stuff on me again, you hear me?”Eric nodded.“If you want to keep massaging me – and I know you do, faggot – you better leave that queer shit back down in your room from now on.”“Yes, Brett – I’m sorry”“Unless you want me to send you back up to Toronto to live with Mom and Carl, that is…”Eric shuddered at that thought. “No Brett – it’ll never happen again. I swear.”“Okay then, dummy – go ahead and finish my massage now.” Brett laid his head back and closed his eyes.Eric stood there dumbly. What was he supposed to do? Nervously he reached out and started to rub Brett’s muscular thigh. Brett’s head popped up immediately.“I told you to finish me off, you fucking retard! Just finish what you started…”Well, that was clear enough, and Eric grabbed Brett’s monster and sucked it down whole. Lesson learned – Brett was okay with the blowjob so long as that was all there was to it. Eric pleasuring himself too would make it sex, and Brett wouldn’t be comfortable with that. It was okay only if Eric was like a sex toy – a tool Brett used to get off.Eric went down on Brett with everything he had. He wanted his brother to forget about the ‘gay stuff,’ of course. But also, the only real pleasure Eric was going to get out of this was the knowledge that he had pleased his brother. He could hear Brett breathing heavily, and could taste the pre-cum that was leaking from his cock. Brett’s body was glistening with sweat now, and Eric took its musky aroma deep into his lungs with every breath, his five senses now completely overwhelmed by his brother. He knew Brett had to be close. Eric watched for the telltale tightening of Brett’s abs, and braced himself when he saw the washboard go rigid. Brett let out a ground-shuddering growl as his entire body tensed. He grabbed Eric’s head in both hands and thrust his hips upwards, driving his cock all the way into Eric’s mouth and down his throat. Eric could feel his brother’s big balls throb as Brett’s cock swelled in his throat and exploded, shooting volley after volley, practically drowning him with his load. But Eric took it all, swallowing every drop, until Brett pulled back and fired the last shot, coating Eric’s face in cum. Eric stood there, breathless and dizzy with pleasure, relishing the moment. His tongue darted out and he licked the corner of his mouth, not wanting to waste even a drop.“You’re pathetic,” Brett sneered at him, before standing up suddenly and knocking Eric onto his ass. “Go clean yourself up – I’m going out for some brews with Garth and the guys later. And guess what – you’re driving…” “Yes, sir…” Eric replied, his eyes lowered in shame. He picked himself up and slowly headed back down to his room, his little hard-on tenting his shorts.“I said move get a move on, loser…” Brett called after him.Eric went to his dresser, and dug through a pile of magazines. Near the bottom was a two-year-old copy of GQ. He lay down on his bed, and thumbed through the well-worn magazine until he found what he wanted – a Bruce Weber layout of hockey star Brett Lindros. He’d always been surprised that Brett had agreed to do the shoot, but the pictures were so hot…Eric found the photo he was looking for: Brett climbing out of the lake wearing a pair of tight Speedos, water dripping off his muscular body, the Speedos showing the tops of his pubes and ass, and leaving very little to the imagination. He rubbed his little cock, still tasting his brother’s cum in his mouth, and stared at the picture of Brett. Tears began to run down his cheeks as he cried quietly between the moans of pleasure. Eric was happy for the moment, even though he knew just how pathetic that was. This was his life now, and Brett was right – he’d better get used to it. THE END

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