("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2007. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- Family Disturbance by Boy Writer (bstory@anon.nymserver.com) 1998 *** A brother's planned revenge for bullying goes wrong when he's caught out in his scheme. (m-dom/m, nc, oral, inc, youths) *** "And it better be good. Just like mom makes it," Those were Brad's last words before he ran outside to play, leaving Randy in the kitchen to cook dinner. Randy could barely contain his smile. Everything was going according to plan he was going to get even with Brad's bullying once and for all. When he got home he started an argument about dinner with his dumbass brother. With threats of sexual violence Randy let Brad "win" the argument about who would do the cooking. Randy had suggested Brad's favorite meal, meatloaf, to make sure he ate a ton of it. Meatloaf was no big deal for Randy. He didn't particularly like to cook, but could, if required. He took the eggs and hamburger out of the refrigerator and then headed up stairs. He stopped in to see Mark. "Hey, Mark, do me a favor. If Brad tells you to come eat - don't. Tell him you'll puke on him, if you have to, just don't eat the meatloaf." Mark looked up from his pillow, "why not?" "Because it's all for Brad. I want him to get real full and then maybe he'll fall asleep before he visits you tonight." Mark brightened at the thought of his ass having a day of rest. Randy tickled him and he giggled slightly, some of the color coming back into his face. Randy slipped out, leaving Mark with some slight hope of not being violated that night. Randy entered his parent's bathroom and went right to the medicine chest. Last week at the library Randy had looked up all the prescriptions in the Physician's Desk Reference. He was surprised to learn that his mom had been heavily sedated at more than one point. He chose several of the "mother's-little-helpers." Brad was a pig, he added another one of the tiny sleeping pills. He didn't want to take a chance that he and Mark couldn't overpower him. Back down stairs he opened the capsules and ground up the pills. In mixing the meatloaf, Randy made sure the bulk of the drugs were towards one end of the pan. That way he could eat some, if he had to, and Brad would still get a full dose with only two slices. Randy put the loaf on to bake and went into the garage looking for something to restrain Brad. He wasn't sure it he'd have to tie Brad up or not, but he figured that at least a gag would be necessary and he wanted to be prepared for anything. Randy grabbed a tennis ball for good measure. That was something he was sure would fit in Brad's big mouth. After hiding everything under the couch Randy checked to see if the batteries in the video camera were finished charging and loaded a fresh tape. Brad would be paying for this one for a very long time, thought Randy. The timer went off and Randy pulled out a perfect meatloaf. It even looked better than mom's. Randy had put half a box of brown sugar on top before he put it in to bake, ensuring that Brad would wolf it down. Randy set the table and poured milk for himself and Brad. He sliced the meatloaf after taking out the toothpick he had used to mark the spiked side. He placed the two "high-octane" slices on Brad's plate and the opposite end on his own. Brad wouldn't be suspicious, since he knew that Randy liked the end slice, also Brad was an idiot, he wouldn't notice if Randy was eating shoe leather. Randy checked on Mark one more time and then went out to get Brad for dinner. "Dinner is served, your highness," Randy said with a flourish. "Hey guys," Brad boasted, "my dickhead brother cooked dinner." The other boys laughed at Randy as Brad boasted about all the work he made his little brothers do. "It's getting cold," Randy said dryly. "God, you've got a regular bitch for a little brother," one boy laughed. "Yeah, but she sure can do laundry," answered Brad, patting Randy on the ass. The boys howled with laughter as Randy turned bright red. Brad pushed Randy towards the house and kept trying to trip him all the way up the steps. Randy bit his tongue. He wasn't about to take a chance on pissing off Brad this late in the game. He pointed to the table and Brad smiled broadly, reveling in his command. They both sat down and Brad sniffed at the plate. "You better not have put any Ex-Lax in here or I'll kick your ass." "No, Brad, no Ex-lax," Randy said truthfully. Randy couldn't help himself, he was riveted to Brad's movements. Brad cut a small slice of meatloaf and brought it up to his mouth. He paused and looked at his fork. Randy's heart leaped into his throat. Brad put the fork down and looked at Randy. "I should do you right now," Brad said stone-faced. Randy couldn't speak. He began to feel sick. "You thought I wouldn't notice? I'm not the fuckin' dork in this house, remember?" Randy felt his world was crashing down on him. He couldn't think fast enough to say anything. It was all going into slow motion. Brad was going to fuck him, or worse and the weeks of planning, the money, Jimmy's homework, everything; it was all for nothing. "Brad, I, I, uh..." Randy stumbled. "Shut up, dickhead. Just get me the ketchup." Randy came to the realization that Brad's whole scene had been because Randy had forgotten to put the ketchup bottle on the table. Randy almost dove for the refrigerator to get the condiment. He spent the next fifteen minutes watching Brad wolf down enough meatloaf to feed three people. Randy watched with a sick fascination and thought that Brad was turning into one of the boys in the movie "Lord of the Flies." Randy noticed how muscular Brad had become and for the first time was truly afraid of his big brother. "Get me a beer, dick breath," ordered Brad. Randy knew that some of the drugs he fed Brad would become more potent under the influence of alcohol, but there was no denying Brad any vice now. Randy popped the top on a Miller Lite, Tim's favorite brew, and slid it down the table to Brad. The oldest Taylor boy chugged the beer and slammed the empty bottle down on the table. "Nice going, bitch," complemented Brad. A loud belch followed by a fart erupted from Brad's satisfied body. "Well, I aim to please," smiled Randy, wondering when Brad would start to get woozy. "Now for dessert," said Brad standing. He belched again and turned towards Randy. Brad fumbled at his belt and started to undo his pants. Randy had expected that Brad would be out cold before he had time to think of sex. Oh, man, this was too gross to imagine, thought Randy. Brad stepped out of his pants. Randy could make out the thick ridge of his erection under the cotton briefs. At the tip a wet spot spread out where Brad's juices had flowed out in anticipation of breaking in Randy to the wonderful world of brother-sex. Randy sat paralyzed, his eyes fixed on Brad's eager erection. Here, now, in the light of day, in a normal room, it somehow seemed different, more powerful, as though showing its presence here cast aside all resistance. Brad walked up to the chair where Randy sat, then lowered his briefs and moved closer. His cock moved against Randy's nose, making a thin wet line of pre-cum on the boy's cheek. "Open up, pretty boy," Brad said. Randy sat stock still, neither complying nor seeking to escape. Brad smacked him on the back of the head. "I said, open up!" Having no choice, Randy opened his mouth and took Brad's penis inside. For some reason, Randy had thought it would taste repulsive, but it didn't. It had very little taste, in fact. He thought idly about the taste, his mind unable to encompass the situation. Randy became detached from himself, as if floating outside his body, watching. "Good, good," Brad said. "Keep your teeth off it, like you're doing. Lick it some. No, don't take it out of your mouth, asshole, just keep it inside and run your tongue over the bottom. Oh, yeah, that's right... you'll be really good at this in a while." Normally, Randy would have replied with some kind of zinger of his own, but he couldn't talk now because my mouth is full of cock. He thought to himself, 'My big brother has his cock in my mouth!' A horrible chill went down his back as he thought of it, but he could not stop, Brad wouldn't let him. Brad could, though. He pulled out. Randy looked up at him beseechingly, his wiseacre mouth deserting him entirely. When would Brad start getting tired of this? "You know, I really think you should be on your knees when you suck cock little brother," Brad said with a smirk. Once again, Randy did not move. "Get on your knees!" Brad threatened. Mechanically, Randy rose from his chair, continuing to stare at Brad's penis. Sure, Brad was still a boy, but he had a man's cock. It made Randy feel small and inadequate - helpless, even. "No, wait!" Brad said. "Get naked. I want you naked when you suck my cock." Randy stood still, his mind awhirl. "I *said*, take off your clothes. Now!" Brad ordered. Randy lifted his pullover shirt and dropped it on the floor, then sat back down on his chair to pull off his shoes and socks. "Hurry up bitch, I don't have all day," Brad said, as Randy stood back up and removed his jeans and underwear in one movement. Naked, Randy stood there, looking at the floor. "Well?!" Brad demanded. Randy knelt and took the fat penis back into his mouth. "Finally!" Brad said with mock exasperation. "For a little cocktoy, you sure make life difficult! Now suck me like you want it. I know you do." For Randy, in this unfamiliar world, it almost seemed like he *did* want it, as he sucked and licked at the older boy's cock. It's warm, Randy thought. And soft. But hard underneath. Brad soon tired of Randy's slow exploration of his cock, however, and grabbed Randy about the ears, pistoning in and out. Randy, immobile, felt Brad's penis pushed painfully against the back of his mouth, again and again. It brought Randy back to reality, the harsh reality of being a cocksucker. There was a knock at the door. It was Jimmy! Oh God NO! Randy panicked, but again he could not move; Brad held his head firmly. "Just a minute!" Brad called out, then spoke more softly to Randy: "Hurry up, dickbreath." As if Randy could do anything about it. "Suck harder," Brad breathed. Randy complied urgently; if there was one thing worse than being forced to suck his brother's cock, it was being seen doing it. He sucked like mad, nearly cramped his tongue with the activity he forced upon it. There was a second knock at the door. "Ca-ca-coming!" Brad said, swaying on his feet. And then Brad *was* cumming, right in his brother's mouth. The door opened, and Jimmy walked in. "Squirrel?" he said, looking around, then settled his eyes on Randy, naked on his knees, Brad's penis spasming between his lips. A long dribble of white cum leaking from the corner of Randy's mouth. Brad was momentarily horrified, but he quickly recovered. After all, he wasn't the one with a dick in his mouth, was he? Still, this was Jimmy Abramson, the meanest kid in town. "Squirrel" must be Randy, it was a fitting nickname, but what could he want with Randy? Brad looked at Jimmy in confusion, still coming down from his orgasm. Jimmy, however, was not at all confused. Everything had suddenly become clear to him. Jimmy was a dull boy, but he wasn't *that* dull. He could see what Randy's game had been. Talking about "Brad the fag" and "Brad the flamer," when all along all Randy wanted to do was get Jimmy to come over and fuck him. Then timing things so that he was sucking off his brother when Jimmy walked in. Jimmy almost felt sorry for Randy, not that he ever felt sorry for anybody. In a weird way, the squirrel had almost become a friend. Well, after all Randy had done for him, if the boy wanted to be fucked, Jimmy was certainly ready to do it. Sure, it was twisted, but the kid did have a nice, smooth little butt, ready and waiting for a cock to plug it. Brad pulled out of Randy's mouth, and both Brad and Randy stared at Jimmy, wondering what he would do next. Brad spoke first, deciding bravado was the best approach. "Just giving my little cocksucker brother something to be happy about," he said. "You want some? He's ready and willing." Jimmy laughed then, and Brad heaved a silent sigh of relief. "Yeah, the little pussy invited me over," Jimmy said. "You wouldn't believe the story he told me." "I would believe this little shit would say almost anything," Brad replied, laughing himself. "I just wouldn't believe *him*." He turned to Randy, who remained mute on the floor. "You can get up now. Clean off the table. No, leave your clothes there. I want you to stay naked tonight. And wipe that shit off your face." Unable to deal with the situation, Randy simply wiped the cum off his chin with the back of his wrist and started taking dishes into the kitchen. He didn't even think of running away. He just didn't think at all. He felt the older boys' eyes on his bottom as he walked. "So tell me, what did he say?" Brad asked, smiling now that he was sure that Jimmy was an ally. Brad put his clothes back on. "He told me this story about how you were a big flaming faggot who wanted to get fucked. He gave me $20 to come over and fuck you. Gave me booze and pot too. Did my homework for two whole months. Said it was all to help his poor brother, who was too shy to ask for what he wanted." Jimmy laughed loudly. Brad stared at Jimmy in silence for a moment, then laughed too. "I should really beat the hell out of him for that," Brad said. "I just didn't know he wanted it so bad. Randy here's a great cocksucker" - Brad slapped the boy's behind as he want past, carrying dishes - "but he's never had it in his ass. Not like his brother." Brad called up the stairs: "Mark! Come down here!" Sheepishly, Mark came walking down the stairs, dressed in briefs and a t-shirt since he had been in bed feigning illness. "Shit, I don't believe it. Two little fags in the same family," Jimmy said. "Brad, you promised," Mark whined, as his older brother led him to meet Jimmy. "Don't worry, sweetheart, your little bottom is all mine," Brad said, reaching down into the back of Mark's briefs. "I'm here for Randy," Jimmy said to Mark, caressing the younger boy's cheek. "You and I will have to wait for another time." Randy was washing the dishes. "Randy! Get your cute little bottom out here! Your boyfriend is waiting!" Brad yelled. Obediently, Randy came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel, his head hanging. He knew he was going to get fucked; he hoped it would only be once. "Randy is probably wondering why I'm not asleep yet, since he tried to drug me," Brad said, smirking, as Randy walked past. Randy turned quickly, his eyes very wide. How could Brad know? "Sorry, Randy," Mark said sadly. "Brad said he would share me with his friends if I didn't tell him what you were up to. I saw you getting Mom's pills out of the medicine cabinet." Brad laughed loudly. "And I switched them with vitamins." Jimmy snickered too. Brad snaked his arm around Mark's neck and pulled him close in front. "The rug-rat here loves a dick up his ass, but only if it's mine. He's my little butt-slut. Isn't that right, Mark? Tell him." "I'm his little butt-slut," Mark said, staring at Jimmy's shoes. Jimmy grabbed Randy and pulled him close. "And Randy here is mine." Then Randy had a brief burst of desperate self- preservation, but it didn't last long. He struggled to pull away from Jimmy, to escape the older boy's grip. Jimmy responded by forcefully pushing Randy forward onto the couch. Crouching over the younger boy, Jimmy was about to commence the deed when Mark shouted, "Wait!" He squirmed to get away from Brad, who let him go, and both older boys watched as the underwear-clad youngster ran into the kitchen, coming back with a bottle of cooking oil. He held it out to Jimmy. "You have to put something on your dick so it will go in easier," Mark explained. "Brad didn't used to do that, that's why it hurt me so much," the little boy said to Mark, who was pinned tighly under Jimmy with his arm twisted behind his back. "You put it on," Jimmy said, bemused. Mark knelt down and carefully opened the bottle, pouring a small amount of oil in his hand. Then, with both hands, he applied the oil to Jimmy's penis, which despite the fact that Jimmy out weighted Brad by more than 50 pounds was not significantly larger. Jimmy's cock, in fact, was somewhat thinner than Brad's, though much longer. His work done, Mark sat back on his heels as Jimmy aligned the head of his penis with Randy's hole. "It's okay, Randy. Just relax and let it go in. It hurts more if you try to keep it out. It doesn't hurt too bad if he goes slow," the little boy added, looking at Jimmy hopefully. "Don't worry, squirrel, I'll fuck you long and slow," Jimmy said, pushing the head of his cock into Randy's bottom. Randy groaned. It hurt, no matter what Mark said. But it did not hurt that much. If this was all, Randy could take it. But it was not all. Brad and Mark watched as Jimmy's penis slowly disappeared into Randy's smooth, round bottom. All were silent. Jimmy and Randy were breathing quickly, one in pleasure, the other in pain. Deeper and deeper Jimmy's long cock went, and Randy began to shudder against the couch cushions. Randy was no smart-aleck now. This was not something he could stand above and make wisecracks about. This was Jimmy Abramson's strong, muscular body pushing down, crushing him, Jimmy's proud, long cock shoving ever deeper inside. Against his will, Randy's own hairless little penis became hard, as fear surpassed itself and became acceptance, pain submerging itself in hopeless submission. Then, good as his word, Jimmy began to fuck Randy, long and slow. Every deepening plunge took something away from the boy's accustomed sarcastic demeanor. For the first time since he could remember, Randy could not form a sentence in his mind. Each - uh - word - uhm - was - uhh - punctuated by a thrust that made him lose his place. Randy was left with his body and his feelings, neither of which he was quite comfortable with. His body was so weak and little, so helpless, so smooth and soft, so dominated by the hard strong man above him. Then Jimmy sped up, fucking in earnest, and Randy was tossed repeatedly against the cushions, all pain, all shame lost now, all lost, only his bottom pulsating, pounding with a rhythm he could not control, driving his rock-hard little dick into the rough fabric. Randy twisted, struggled, not knowing whether he wanted to get away or wanted more. And then it was over. Jimmy's cock expanded once, twice, then again and again, and Randy's hypersensitive rectum seemed to feel every drop as the semen drained into him. Jimmy rested on his elbows, remaining atop, and inside, Randy. Looking to the side, Randy could see that Mark was once again receiving Brad in his rear end. The little boy reclined on the couch, his head propped against the back, his knees pulled to his shoulders, as Brad shoved his impossibly fat penis into the impossibly small hole. And Mark was crying, yes in pain, but there was more to it. And now Randy knew how much more. Epilogue -------- Jimmy came over nearly every day after that. Randy continued to do his homework. Mark continued to clean Brad's room. Tim and Jill didn't know what to make of the new peace in the house - all the boys seemed very quiet, as if they had a secret together. Tim joked about the Stepford children. Jimmy and Brad exchanged their catamites after a couple weeks. Randy got used to swinging on the end of Brad's thick dick, and Mark learned precisely how deep Jimmy's long dong could go. Brad, true to his word, never did share Mark out (except with Jimmy a few times), but Jimmy had other ideas for Randy. He would take Randy downtown in short, tight pink shorts and a cutoff shirt, making the boy walk the streets in a slow, suggestive manner. Randy would endure the catcalls and the rude remarks until a man, or more likely one of Jimmy's friends from the football team selected for the occasion, would proposition him. Off they would go to the broken back door of the abandoned theater, then inside. And Randy, no longer the smart-aleck, would learn the feeling of many thick, manly cocks in his backside. END ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author does not condone the described behavior in real life. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Kristen's collection - Directory 50