Diary,
Fall of 2002
Disclaimer:
This is a work of erotic fiction. If you are under 18, or are
offended
by the idea of male-male sex or mind control, DO NOT read this.
Reader
feedback is appreciated. It helps me determine what and whether to
write!
September
23
My
name is Lance Peterson. I'm beginning my senior year at Rosewood High,
and
I've decided to keep a diary of what I hope will be my best year ever.
In
case I give this diary to someone who doesn't know me that well, I'll
describe
myself. I'm 17, 6'4" and 205 pounds. I have completely straight
brown
hair (that my mom calls "chestnut-colored") that I've worn at
different
lengths over the years, but now it's cut to hang to just above my
eyebrows.
I wear size 14 shoes, which is a real pain since most stores only
stock
up to 12 or 13. I also have really large hands, so I can actually palm
a
basketball.
On
the personal front, since my dad died in a car accident when I was 8,
I've
had to be the "man of the family", helping mom run the house and
raise
my
younger brother Joey. He's not as gifted as I am in certain things, so
I've
tried to set an example for him. When he was really young, he looked up
to
me a great deal, but when he entered his teens, he seemed to get more
surly
and assertive. Oh well, I guess it's a natural stage of development,
and
I hope it's over soon.
I
have a great girlfriend, Jenny Parker. She's blond and on the tall side,
and
she and I have been together since the seventh grade, and I guess you
could
say we "complete" each other. Not only is she great-looking, but
she's
extremely
smart, and she and I usually understand each other with very few
words.
We haven't done anything sexually, though, beyond kissing. We're the
perfect
example of high-school sweethearts that sometimes successfully get
and
stay married, but we haven't really thought about that yet since we
don't
know exactly where we'll be next year.
This
is of course the last year I'll be living in my home town, since it's
far
away from the colleges I'll be applying to. I'm not sure where I'm
headed,
but it will probably come down to a choice for me of Yale in the
east
or Stanford in the west. I mean, there's no sure thing, of course, but
I
don't see what more I can do to improve my chances of admission. My school
has
a statewide reputation of being tough academically, and usually the
first
dozen or so out of our graduating class of 350 have pretty much their
pick
of schools, provided they have tended to their extracurricular and
community
activities, which I've done.
I'm
at the top of my class academically. I seem to have an aptitude for both
the
sciences and humanities, and I haven't really favored one over the
other,
which is making it harder for me to choose a college. I'm also
captain
of the football team, which has been doing unexpectedly well this
year.
In our second game, we beat last year's state champion school, which
surprised
everyone, even us. I guess we were just more determined than we'd
ever
been. Of course, going into the game, we'd convinced ourselves we could
do
it, even though deep down reason told us otherwise.
I'm
headed downstairs for breakfast, where I can hear my younger brother
Joey
already slurping his cereal. My brother is a bit of a slacker. He's 15
and
a sophomore, but he doesn't get nearly the grades that I do. While I'm
quite
muscular (I take after our father's side of the family), he's more the
lean
wiry type, like mom's male relatives. He's never been too interested in
athletics,
and spends a lot more time hanging with his friends than on his
homework.
Since I accidentally walked in on him in the shower recently, I
know
he also doesn't take after dad's side of the family in another way: he
is
only about 6 inches soft. When I was his age, I was already a bit over 7
inches
soft, and I still had some growing to do. Also, my chest hair was
already
filling in at that time, while his chest is still completely
hairless.
He's never been as far along as I was at any age. It must be tough
being
my brother, being compared to me, expected to live up to what I've
done.
I
was elected class president last week. It was kind of expected, since I
had
been president in all three previous years of school. I have sometimes
been
able to use the position to make a difference in life at the school,
and
I feel really good about that. In the election, my best friend on the
football
team, Chris Parker, Jenny's twin brother, came in second, with
about
20% of the votes. He didn't really run very hard, just said he thought
it
would be better if I had SOME competition, and he's probably right. I
mean
it shouldn't be like a coronation or something. Chris is also ranked
second
in our class academically, although there's a bit of a gap between
him
and me. I don't think he'll be giving me competition for the
valedictorian
spot at the end of the year. I know it's a long time from now,
and
it's a bit silly to think about in September, but I'm already mulling
about
what to put in to make the best possible speech that the class will
remember
long after they've left school.
Two
afternoons a week, I tutor a class of the slower kids in several
subjects.
It makes me feel good to help, and it won't hurt on my college
applications.
I've put in extra time with one of them, a junior named Drew.
He
was on the football team, but got kicked off for low grades. Although
he's
a year younger, he's physically even bigger than I am, and since he's
good
looking and charming and sure of himself, he's popular and has no
trouble
with the ladies, but he doesn't take academics seriously at all. I'm
trying
to get him interested in at least one or two subjects to get his
grades
above what he needs to get back on the team. Sometimes I get him
interested
briefly in what I'm going over, but then the big goof lets his
hair
drop over his eyes and puts on a big silly grin, and I know I have to
go
back a few steps to get him on track again.
One
evening a week, I also help out underprivileged kids at the local police
youth
league. I coach their football and basketball teams. It feels really
good
to serve as a role model for kids that don't really have one at home.
They're
ages 13 to 15, a variety of races, physical types, and attitudes,
which
means I have to work with them one-on-one as much as I help them as
teams.
I think the key to gaining their trust is to win over Darryl, the
oldest
of the group. He's black, just turned 15, and is the tallest of the
bunch
at 6'3", but his upper body hasn't finished filling out yet, so I have
him
working on it. He also has a juvenile record and had the most arrogant
attitude
coming into the program, but I think I've begun to win his respect.
I'm
helping him with working out, and with a progression of weights.
Well,
that should give you a good idea of my life. Everything seems to be
going
according to plan so far this year. The only thing out of the ordinary
that
has happened lately is that the first few nights of this week, my
dinner
had an unusual undertaste. I couldn't quite make it out, but it was
definitely
there. I thought I might be getting sick or something, but as the
days
went by I noticed it less and less, and maybe it was my imagination all
along.
Also, while I'm usually a heavy sleeper, in the middle of last night
I
woke up somewhat, and thought I felt something tight around my ears, but
when
I got up the next morning, there was nothing. I guess the pressure of
having
to excel in my final year of high school may be getting to me a bit.
September
30
My
week ended on a sour note. I usually ace every assignment, but I somehow
overlooked
an English paper that was due. I've never done that in my whole
school
career! Oh well, I'm sure I'll make up for it in the next few weeks.
Also,
maybe something hormonal is going on. The last few days, I've been
having
weird thoughts, ones I don't even want to record here. They occur
everywhere
-- at breakfast, at school, at football practice, even at the
police
youth league session. And they cause me a particular physical
problem.
You see, when you're on the big side, it's almost impossible to
hide
a hard-on. Unless you're wearing really baggy pants, and I don't dress
that
way, there's just no place for it to go. I have to carry my books more
strategically
than usual. It can be real embarrassing when people notice.
October
7
The
strange hormonal thing I've had going on is now happening almost
continuously.
It's causing me moments of distraction as my eye wanders the
room,
looking at people's shoes for some reason. I notice the size and
condition
of guys' running shoes and sneakers, I notice who's not wearing
socks,
and so on. It only lasts moments at a time, so it hasn't affected my
school
work, really. But why am I thinking about this, and why the heck is
it
making me hard? I'm not just "competitively" comparing, am I? Anyway,
no
other
guy I come across regularly in school comes close to my size 14 shoes,
except
Chris my football buddy who wears size 13s, and Drew, the guy I
tutor,
who wears 16s and rarely wears socks.
October
14
I
don't know what's been happening to me lately. I've been losing
concentration
in my classes, and that's never happened before. The time I
spend
staring at shoes has increased; by now, I could tell you the shoe size
of
almost anyone in any of my classes. Plus I now find myself daydreaming
about
the oddest things. I can coast somewhat on what I know, but my grades
are
slipping. Mr. Goodman, the faculty advisor to the tutored group, has
suggested
that I step aside from my tutoring job while I recover my
concentration.
The
lack of focus has also carried over to football. I can't seem to
remember
some of the more complicated plays, and I screwed up at least twice
in
last Friday's game. Coach has temporarily made Chris Parker the starter,
and
has assigned me some extra practice time to get back to my previous good
form.
As the team leader, I don't want to hurt the team's chances of a good
ranking
in the state this year, so I'm fine with that.
Jenny
wanted to come over to the house this evening, but I was feeling a bit
dazed
and didn't want to make her uncomfortable, so I begged off. Several
times
in the last week I've kind of avoided her at school, and I'm not sure
why.
I'm just not feeling like myself lately and I don't want to do anything
that
might hurt our relationship, like acting weird. Until I feel better, I
don't
completely trust myself.
October
21
Something
very weird happened after football practice yesterday. Chris
finished
taking off his uniform just as I got into the locker room, and
headed
for the shower, leaving his sweaty clothes on the bench in front of
his
locker. For some reason, I stared, fascinated, at his used jock strap on
the
bench. When everyone had gone to the shower and I was alone on the
bench,
I reached over and grabbed the jock, and impulsively put it to my
nose.
I was overcome by the incredibly rich aroma of Chris' crotch sweat,
and
my tongue darted out to see if it tasted as good as it smelled. I
thought
of Chris: blond-haired, blue-eyed, taller than me at 6'5", well
toned
but not as powerfully built as I am, totally smooth creamy skin, and I
got
hard. Real hard. Suddenly, I looked up and I wasn't alone anymore. Chris
had
come back from the shower, and was looking at me oddly. He grabbed his
jock
out of my hand. I was hugely humiliated, but there was no hiding my
thoughts:
my immense boner told him everything. He didn't say anything, but
his
expression changed to a smirk, and he walked away. I hoped he wouldn't
tell
anyone, but how can he look up to me as team captain after he's seen me
do
that?
Come
to think of it, in recent days I've been having to change quickly and
take
really short showers, because I seem to have nearly constant hardons
when
I'm with the team and naturally I don't want them to see it. Just
turning
to one side doesn't help when you're as big as I am. I have no idea
why
this is happening -- I'm not gay or anything -- but I'm totally unable
to
discuss it with anyone at school or with my mom at home. Why should I
worry
her?
October
28
I notice
I've been dressing differently these days. Instead of my usual
clothes,
I've been wearing tight shirts with the top several buttons
unbuttoned,
and the size 30 pants I wore years ago (even though I'm now size
32).
Why I'm doing this I have no idea, I just notice it when I get to
school.
The tight pants are causing me even more "exposure" embarrassment
than
I was going through before. I've got to stop this. People are staring
and
talking when I walk by, more openly now than in previous weeks.
The
academic situation is getting worse. In one class I sit behind Chris,
and
during a midterm exam, somehow I spent the whole period running my eyes
up
and down his body, thinking about what each part of him might smell like,
might
taste like. As I imagined my nose buried in his rich blond hair, the
bell
rang and the exam was over. I hadn't answered a single question.
Ms.
Harris noticed my blank paper when she collected the exams, and told me
to
wait while the class left. She then sat down next to me and asked me what
was
wrong. I couldn't tell her the truth, it was too humiliating, so I just
told
her I had had difficulty concentrating lately. She said she had noticed
my
work deteriorating rapidly over the past few weeks, and suggested I have
a
doctor look at me. She also suggested that I could maybe benefit from a
few
afternoons in the remedial class, to catch up on some of the material I
had
not absorbed. This was of course the same class I used to tutor, and
even
one of the subjects in which I had provided extra help to that big
goofy
junior, Drew. As the thought of Drew crossed my mind, I felt a
stiffening
in my pants. Where did THAT come from?
I
noticed one other thing. I've always been attracted to Ms. Harris, a cute
brunette
who looks much younger than her late twenty-something years, but
now
I felt not even the slightest attraction. I thought that maybe it was
the
shame of the particular situation that kept me from feeling interested,
but
it sure didn't stop me from getting hard when I thought of Drew in the
tutored
class. What's happening to me?
Of
course with my current academic situation, I'll be suspended from the
football
team. Yet oddly when I think about that, my main disappointment
involves
not being in the locker room or showers with the guys. I'm guessing
THEY
won't be that disappointed, since I wasn't always 100% successful at
hiding
my almost continuous hardons in there, and it clearly made them
uncomfortable.
November
4
In
school today, as I rounded a corner, I saw my little brother in an
intense
conversation with Jenny at her locker. Before I got down the hall,
though,
she had left for a class. It was odd; I've never seen those two
together
at school. I had a really bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, and
I
wanted to chase after her and apologize for not having talked to her
lately,
but I suddenly realized I didn't want to talk to her at all. Had
Chris,
her twin, told her about the locker room incident?
In
the remedial class, I had a hard time getting my mind around some math
problems.
Drew actually helped me with a few of them. It was a bit
embarrassing
to have someone I helped now helping me, but it was REALLY
humiliating
when I realized I was getting excited by being near him. I had
to
shift my notebook several times to keep him from seeing it. But to me,
instead
of seeming to be the year-younger big goof I used to help, he now
seemed
to be not only bigger than I am, but smarter also, more sure of
himself,
more significant. I looked up to him a bit, and felt gratitude that
he
had reached out to help me. Strangest of all, when his hair flopped over
his
eyes as usual, it took all my self-control not to reach out and brush
his
hair aside so I could look into his eyes. Wait a minute, this guy used
to
look up to me, and now I was feeling respect for -- and maybe even a
touch
of LUST for -- him?
Since
I've been suspended from the football team, I've had to take phys ed
since
last Thursday. That day, as I began to change in the locker room, I
discovered
I had forgotten to put on underwear. Between that and the tight
pants
my problem hiding hardons has gotten even worse. And I discovered I
get
just as hard in the presence of the more "geeky" types in phys ed as
I
did
in the football locker room. I'm shocked to find myself admiring the
looks,
the smoothness, the masculinity of a skinny freshman even more than I
did
some of my football teammates. I slip into daydreams about some of these
guys
before I even notice it. I hope none of them ever finds out what I'm
thinking
about them.
Both
Friday and today I discovered the same thing: Each day after phys ed, I
was
determined to make sure that the next day I would wear underwear and
looser
fitting pants. But each next day at school I discovered I was again
wearing
the tight pants without underwear. Why can't I remember to dress
right
in the morning?
Jenny
came by our house with her little brother Paul this evening. I was
surprised
to see her, since she hadn't called me -- in fact, we haven't
spoken
much lately -- but the two of them were actually there to see my
brother
Joey. I wondered if it had anything to do with the conversation I
saw
Jenny and Joey having at school. They went into Joey's room and seemed
to
be in an animated conversation, but I couldn't hear what they were
saying.
On her way in, Jenny was polite but distant with me, and I was too
embarrassed
by the possibility that she might know about my locker room
incident
with Chris to try to engage her in any deeper conversation.
November
11
This
morning my brother came to the table shirtless for some reason. I don't
know
why, but I kept stealing glances at his smooth, toned chest and I
noticed
I was licking my lips. It was a real shock because I've never
thought
of Joey in a sexual way before. I sure hope he didn't notice. He
seemed
like such a commanding presence sitting there, while I felt overgrown
and
freakish. When he just suggested out of the blue that I take off my
shirt
too, I did it without even thinking. I didn't really want to do it,
but
when he said it, it seemed like just a natural thing to do. Mom didn't
seem
to notice anything unusual about the whole situation; she just smiled
and
kept working around the kitchen.
I
can't even begin to explain what happened this afternoon. While I was at
Southwoods
Mall, I shoplifted a leather jacket and got caught. I have
absolutely
no idea why I did it; I already have several jackets much nicer
than
the one I took. It's as if I had no control over my actions; I just
grabbed
the jacket and ran to the exit, where the security guard grabbed me.
I
tried to shake loose, and since I'm pretty strong I almost got away, but
another
guard came over to help the first and they had me.
They
were going to prosecute, but because of my good record of helping out
with
the police youth league, the cops convinced them to give me a break.
Mom
picked me up at the station, and for some reason Joey was in the car
with
her, which made my humiliation much worse. I mean, I've tried to set an
example
for him my whole life, and now he sees me at maybe my lowest point
ever.
Mom didn't say a word the whole way home, and Joey just smirked most
of
the time.
Jenny
came over again tonight, as she did every day last week, only this
time
without Paul. She went straight up to Joey's room. As she passed me
downstairs,
she just said a brief "Hi" and kept walking. Last week I figured
she
MUST have heard what happened with me and Chris. I don't know how I can
talk
to her again.
November
15
I
had a very disturbing dream last night. I dreamed I was on all fours,
completely
naked, harnessed to a wagon like a horse. Sitting in the wagon,
holding
a whip, naked except for his Nikes, was my brother. Next to him,
also
naked except for his sneakers, was his bud Paul, Jenny and Chris'
younger
brother. I was pulling the wagon along, and every once in awhile
Joey
or Paul would kick my ass with his Nikes, making me go faster. Every
time
that happened, I got a permanent red shoeprint on my ass. And it seemed
very
natural for me to be pulling that wagon. I woke up in a cold sweat.
Where
had THAT dream come from?
Jenny
has been coming over regularly lately to see Joey. They now go around
openly
together at school also, even though she's two years older than he
is.
How did she get involved with HIM? What could the most beautiful girl in
school
possibly see in my younger brother? Well, actually, I WAS beginning
to
understand it. Joey has seemed so commanding lately, so masculine, so
sure
of himself. While I seem to be fading, he seems to be emerging into the
social
limelight at school. Having Jenny on his arm doesn't hurt. And for
some
reason I can't complain to him or even bring up the subject with him,
or
her.
November
18
I've
noticed that lately, I seem to be unable to refuse my brother's
suggestions.
Even when I don't agree with him and and when I'm disgusted at
what
he's telling me to do, I have to do it. I can't pinpoint when it began,
but
each day, his demands seem to get more outrageous, like he's seeing how
far
he can push me, and he hasn't found a limit yet. A while back, it
started
with little things, like him telling me to clean up his room. It
moved
on to bigger demands, like him telling me to give him and his friends
rides
at all hours. Yesterday, he casually said that I really should strip
naked,
put one of his used jockstraps on my head, and clean the kitchen. I
started
to argue with him, but even while I was arguing I was stripping.
What
I don't understand is why mom doesn't say anything about any of this.
Joey
is somehow preventing me from communicating with her without getting
his
permission, but you'd think she'd notice as my behavior got more and
more
weird. She just smiles and goes about her business.
Joey
found my diary -- he seems to go through my room regularly, and just
takes
what he wants, and I am too intimidated to stop him. The first time I
found
him doing this and angrily told him to put something back, I
temporarily
blacked out and when I came to, I found myself kneeling at the
toilet,
lapping his piss out of it. Joey saw that I had stopped making
entries
in this diary a week ago. He told me to get back to filling it out,
so
he could show it around to friends at school, both mine and his. Despite
this
chilling thought, I found myself compelled to get back to work on it.
I
still have my mind -- when I can still focus with it -- but Joey can
override
my will with his at any time. How he got this power I don't know.
Any
part of my body has to do whatever he says. Last night he ordered me to
get
hard and jerk off, but not to cum, then he left my room to watch TV and
must
have forgotten about me. For hours I lay there, my fist pounding and
pounding,
getting sorer all the time but unable to stop. Finally, he came by
on
the way to his room and released me with a command. I put on some lotion
to
stop the burning, and contemplated my position. At least now I have some
idea
of why I've been going through changes. Of course, I've been forbidden
by
Joey's unbreakable orders to tell anyone about what was going on, or to
seek
help in any way.
November
18
Today
after school I went as usual to the police youth league session, and
was
surprised and more than a little scared to see Joey out front. He
evidently
read my diary entry about the coaching and decided to show up. As
we
went in the door, he hissed at me, "Listen, faggot. You're going to
agree,
out loud, with everything I say. And you're going to do everything I
say.
Got that?" Oh no, I thought. Not that, not here. "Answer me!"
"Yes,
Joey,"
I was forced to say.
We
went to where the team was warming up. They gathered around me.
"Introduce
me," hissed Joey. "This is my little brother Joey," I told them.
Joey
said, "I've got news for you guys. I just found out why Lance here was
interested
in coaching your team. Seems he's a faggot, and all along he was
just
hot for your bods. Isn't that right, Lance?"
The
team stared in amazement and disbelief. No! No! I wanted to scream. I
felt
short of breath, and could feel myself turning red. I was humiliated
beyond
measure. But I heard myself say, quietly, "Yes, that's right."
Joey
snarled, "What did you say, fag?"
"Yes,
Joey, that's right," I was forced to say loudly. I was breaking out
into
a serious sweat. The team members started to come out of their shock,
and
some were smirking evilly.
Joey
continued: "He told me that he's dreamed for months of sucking all your
cocks,
and most of all he wanted to worship Darryl, who he considers a god."
Oh
no, oh no, all my work there destroyed in one minute. I grew even redder.
Darryl
was still skeptical. "I don't know, man. I been workin with him for
months,
and I never noticed nothin like that."
"He
told me he's always dreamed of jerking off while licking your feet, and
calling
you Master. Right, Lance?"
"Yes,
Joey," I said, looking down in total shame.
"See,
the faggot is perving over your feet right now. He's got a thing for
feet,
smelly old sneakers and used gym socks. He also loves raunchy
jockstraps.
He goes through the shoes in my closet and into my dirty laundry
all
the time at home."
"Man,
that's low," said one of the younger kids.
"He's
also into licking armpits, eating cum and drinking piss. At home, I
use
him as my own personal muscle toilet. But his real fantasy is serving as
a
slave to a bunch of inner-city guys like you. I just thought I'd reward
him
by bringing him to you." You could tell most of the guys were getting
hot
at the thought of having a slave give them the sexual satisfaction every
young
teen lusts after, whenever they wanted. Meanwhile, Darryl seemed to
have
grown somehow bigger in stature, with his muscular arms crossed.
Joey
whispered something into Darryl's ear. "If you say that word, he'll
call
you Master and do anything you say. Lance, the guys want to take you
into
the locker room and have some fun with you. You're getting what you
always
wanted. Bye!" And off he went.
In a
panic, I turned to follow him, but one word from Darryl and I was
frozen
in place. My leg muscles strained to get me out of there, but I
couldn't
move. The team gathered around me. Darryl said, "I can't believe
it,
but I guess it's true. I thought he was cool, but I guess he just wanted
us
all that time. I guess we can all have some fun here." He glared at me
powerfully.
"Lissen, you gotta think of us as real men, and you just a piece
of
dirt, somethin to serve us." As he said this, I looked around at the
group.
They all started to look like ideals of manhood to me, even the
scrawniest
13 year old, while I was just an overgrown piece of shit fit only
to
serve them. I was not excited by this, only resigned to my deserved
position.
I followed the team into the locker room.
Mercifully,
I don't remember much about that afternoon or evening. I don't
know
if they ordered me to forget it, or what. I woke up that night in the
alley
behind the locker room, naked, with every part of me feeling abused.
My
body was covered with dried sweat and partly dried piss. My mouth,
asshole,
and throat felt stretched, the incredibly foul taste in my mouth
seemed
to combine sweat, cum, and piss, and my muscles ached as if they had
all
been used full time for hours.
I
had to limp home, naked. Fortunately, there were very few people in the
street,
although I had to duck into alleys and behind bushes on several
occasions
to avoid being spotted.
November
25
News
of the incident at the police youth league got back to school -- there
was
no way to keep it secret anyway -- and I was expelled. Of course I was
unable
to tell anyone I wasn't responsible for what happened. Leaving school
didn't
matter much, since my ability to do any work there seems to have
ended
anyway. But I find myself compelled to go there every afternoon and
hang
around the athletic field so I can catch glimpses of Chris and Drew at
football
practice. I have to be careful they don't catch me or I'll be
ordered
to leave school property.
Jenny
comes by the house every evening now, wearing skimpy clothing despite
the
weather. She takes her top off and sits on Joey's lap, right in the
living
room. My mom just smiles. Whenever Joey says the word "slut", Jenny
goes
crazy and is all over him, tongue down his throat, fingers tugging at
his
zipper, begging for his cock. In all her time with me, she was so proper
and
dignified, as befit a classy popular senior. But here she has no
control,
and of course I now understand it. Paul and Joey now control her,
the
way Joey controls me. It's probably just a matter of time until Chris
falls
into Paul and Joey's clutches. When they control both twins, who knows
WHAT
Jenny and Chris will be forced to do.
November
28
In a
show of power, Joey required mom and me to go through Thanksgiving
dinner
totally naked. Again, mom doesn't seem to think any of this is
strange.
About an hour after we started, Jenny showed up -- I don't know how
she
sneaked out of her house without explanation, Paul must be gaining
control
of his home the way Joey already controls ours -- and at a word from
Joey,
Jenny also removed all her clothes and joined us at the table. Joey
had
her eat food off of various parts of his body while mom just smiled. As
her
tongue thoroughly cleaned stuffing and gravy from Joey's various
orifices,
instead of being disgusted I couldn't help wishing it was me doing
the
licking.
December
2
I've
moved out of my room, and into the basement. My brother wanted my room
as a
party room for him and his friends, and I had to agree in light of
recent
events that I didn't deserve my own room anyway. In the basement, I
have
a mattress on the floor, a small "table" consisting of piled-up old
telephone
books, and a lamp. I also have exercise equipment that I find
myself
compelled to use in almost all my spare moments.
My
car also now belongs to my brother. He's still too young to drive, so he
makes
me drive him wherever he wants to go. He has started to make me wear a
chauffeur's
cap and open the car door for him. This always produces staring
and
laughs when I take him to school, but I have no choice but to obey him.
Last
night, he made me wear a muscle shirt to show off my physique, and had
me
drive to the neighborhood with a lot of gay bars. He had me get out and
strut
cockily around the car, and I seemed to attract a lot of attention. My
brother
had a quiet discussion with an older guy, and soon I was in a room
with
the balding, somewhat overweight older guy taking his clothes off. The
sight
was totally disgusting to me, but I was forced to stand there and
watch.
Then, he uttered some word, I didn't hear what it was, but when he
said
it, I felt uncontrollable lust for him. I had never been attracted to
any
guy in my life, and now I was begging this ugly old guy to let me suck
him
off and be fucked by him. He wouldn't let me near his cock until I
licked
his boots clean while he called me disgusting names. After an hour of
the
painful sex that I desperately desired, he led me outside where my
brother
was waiting. My brother whispered another word into my ear, and
suddenly
I came out of the daze. I remembered everything that happened with
complete
disgust. I almost threw up right then and there, but I managed to
avoid
it because I knew my brother would punish me.
I
looked up to see my brother putting his wallet back into his pocket. "Good
boy,
Lancie. Let's go back to the front of the big bar across the street and
see
if we can come up with any more business. We're just getting started!"
The
next guy he talked with was only about my age, too young to get into the
bar.
He had been hanging around the entrance, looking around forlornly to
get
anyone's attention, but the burly biker types weren't interested. He was
blond,
only about 5' tall, very skinny and somewhat effeminate. When my
brother
sent us off to the room, I wasn't sure what to expect. Again, once
the
kid said this word, I was totally in his power. At first, he had me
wrestle
him into the ground and beat him up. Soon, though, I saw that our
roles
were changing, and when we wrestled the next time, the short skinny
dude
had me helplessly pinned, and then HE started abusing ME while I became
weak
as a kitten. Soon my tongue was working around his entire body, while
occasionally
he would suddenly punch or kick me painfully and laugh when I
flinched
in fear. I guess even natural bottom types have a hidden top side
which
can come out when they're in complete control.
This
time, when we came back out of the room and my brother said the release
word
in my ear, I was not as physically revolted as I had been the previous
time.
In fact, while I was still somewhat humiliated and disgusted with
myself,
there was also the feeling underneath that at some level I enjoyed
what
happened. That feeling was perhaps the most frightening of all.
December
6
After
nearly a week of turning tricks, I am starting to accept what I must
do,
and even look forward to each session. Also, I can now get customers
without
my brother's help. I no longer need the control word to become
obedient
to my customer. No matter how young or old he is, or how dominant
or
submissive, I can't refuse any command. My brother did program me to snap
out
of it if the customer is about to do anything that would cause lasting
physical
damage. After all, he wants me to be able to turn trick after trick
without
much delay.
When
I got back after work today, I found that Joey had used some of the
money
to upgrade and add to the exercise equipment in my basement area. Joey
also
mentioned that now that he understood the business, he might as well
make
a few bucks out of Jenny too. And he said that Paul would have Chris
"ready"
any day now to join their toy collection. Paul was going to bring
both
his siblings to our house the next evening to try them out as a set.
December
7
Sure
enough, when I got back to the house this evening, I found Joey and
Paul
watching TV. Jenny, expressionless, was on her hands and knees in front
of
Joey's chair, with him using her as a footrest. In the corner, standing
at
attention, stood a naked, hard Chris. They seemed to be ignoring him
completely.
He was sweating with the stress and effort of remaining
completely
still and hard. With my new perspective, I admired his tall,
totally
smooth body. His arms, legs, and chest all seemed bigger and better
developed
than I remembered them. Judging from his increased musculature, I
guessed
that Paul has him on the same merciless workout regimen that I am
on.
Paul is also having Chris grow his beautiful blond hair much longer than
it
ever was. I did however catch the look of desperation in his deep blue
eyes
as he stood helplessly frozen, deathly afraid to move a muscle.
When
the TV show they were watching was over, Joey and Paul discussed their
upcoming
ventures involving Jenny, Chris, and me, their three moneymaking
assets
and slaves. While they spoke, Joey idly ran the toes of one of his
feet
around the kneeling Jenny's tits, causing her to moan occasionally. My
old
self would have been totally outraged at this scene, but all I felt was
intense
jealousy, not of Joey but of Jenny. I wished I could be on my knees
in
front of Joey, with him playing with me with his feet. But of course he's
straight.
I'll never be able to serve him in the ways that Jenny can.
Joey
and Paul decided that while I was already too broken to be anything but
a
fully obedient faggot slave, they could train Chris differently and rent
him
out either to rich men or women. The job for Chris, Jenny and me would
now
be to learn as much as we could about sexual techniques from selected
porn
tapes, and then practice on each other. There was some discussion of
bringing
Drew's younger brother Billy onto the "management team", so that
Drew
could be captured and trained to be "stablemaster" and enforcer, to
oversee
our learning process, collect money from tricks, and make sure we
remained
in the team's complete control while they were off in school or
elsewhere.
Drew is suited for this since he's bigger and stronger than any
of
us, and Joey told Paul he had already started to condition me to obey
Drew.
Of course I didn't say anything since I wasn't asked to speak, but I
didn't
mind this idea at all when I heard it.
We
had our first sexual technique practice session this evening. When Chris
and
I were practicing together, Chris always assumed the dominant position.
Meanwhile,
Chris and Jenny practiced together in order to learn many
variations
of straight sex technique. Joey seemed especially to get off
watching
Chris push me around roughly while I groveled, while Paul satisfied
his
familial fantasies watching his helpless older twin siblings go lustily
at
it under his direction. Sometimes Paul had one or both twins work on his
body
just for fun.
Joey
seemed especially determined to keep me and Jenny physically apart. He
discussed
this with Paul. "Lance still seems to be looking at her once in
awhile.
Maybe there's still some masculinity and self-esteem left. I guess I
need
to bring him even lower by kicking the last bit of dignity out of him,"
sighed
Joey. "Okay, let's get to work." He said a word and I passed out.
December
31
I
crawl up on all fours from my basement mattress for breakfast. I do this
to
show respect for my brother and because I'm not worthy enough to walk on
two
legs. Breakfast, like all my meals, is a tasteless protein and vitamin
mash
that helps with my muscular development, served in a dog bowl at my
brother's
feet under the table. If I've been extra good, he'll stir it with
his
bare foot, and let me lick it off his foot and from between his toes. He
knows
I really appreciate this because with the bland mash, the only flavor
I
can get is from his foot sweat and toe jam. Sometimes when he hasn't
washed
he'll spread some of it in his sweaty armpits for me to lick out, to
give
me some flavor variety. I really appreciate his thoughtfulness, and
don't
deserve such careful treatment. When he pats my head in approval, I
instantly
get hard. How godlike he is.
Housework
and working out occupy my full time during every day. Around the
house
I am almost always completely naked, except when I need to wear
protective
gear for certain household tasks or workouts. In the evening, I
occasionally
practice being abused at the feet of the now incredibly-muscled
Chris.
At night, I drive my brother's car to the bar side of town, where
business
lines up for me. It seems there's no one like me in this town,
young,
horse-hung, hugely muscled and absolutely obedient, and there's a big
market
for my services.
I
know now how my brother managed my transformation from the beginning,
using
a combination of drugs and subliminal programming with tapes he
recorded.
I'm really grateful to my brother for helping me find my
appropriate
place in life. With my almost full-time workout and bodybuilding
activities,
I'm in better physical shape than I have ever been. With my
brother
having set me up in my profession, I am earning really good money
for
the family every evening. We've made enough that we are moving into a
bigger
house with much more party space for my brother and his friends, and
now
that he has his license, Joey has a second car, a Viper, that he drives
himself
while I use his old one (the one that was mine originally). I help
him
reinforce my training by using the collection of tapes he recorded to
increase
my submissive obedience.
I
don't have to worry about college, or anything else. I am especially
thankful
that my brother made me realize that my place in life is a
muscleslave,
serving men of all ages and types. This HAS been the best year
ever.
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