Brians Amazingly Quick Transformation

BRIAN'S AMAZINGLY FAST TRANSFORMATION

Chapter Four by Donny Mumford

It's Saturday morning so I get to sleep in... no BJ's today and no playtime with Brett and Junior either. Now that I'm a working stiff, laying awake in bed like this is a luxury. It's a luxury I used to take for granted, but I'm not taking much for granted anymore and that includes the fact that I'm feeling well rested and in good spirits. My upbeat outlook is especially surprising considering the very difficult playtime I had with Brett last night. The caning welts on my ass have gone down considerably and because of the cream there's hardly any lingering pain, so I'm enjoying myself laying here doing a little daydreaming. Recently, most of my daydreams involve the aforementioned Brett, and this morning's no exception. Just saying his name in my head right now gets my dick feeling squirmy! I give my pecker a squeeze, then rub it a little...

feels good. For a change it isn't the memory of Brett's cock down my throat that's getting me aroused, instead I've been thinking generally about his overall dominant mannerisms and my dick's goes from squirmy to chub status. Believe it or not I'm getting to like Brett dominating me, and I even like some of the disciplines too. He's only fifteen years old and small at about five-foot three-inches tall, but that makes his dominance over me all the more special, from my point of view. His too, I'll bet. I'm six years older than him, almost a foot taller, and seventy pounds heavier, but that's no problem for him; he told me he prefers dominating older, bigger guys like myself. Gawd, that boy can really get me hot when he demonstrates his superiority over me.

As it turns out, dominance from a boy like Brett can be quite sexy at times too; sometimes I get this weird feeling in my balls from being submissive to him; a sexy, weird thrill! He's extremely demanding, of course, and when I don't live up to his expectations he shows me no mercy. Okay, he's on the sadistic side a little bit too as he obviously enjoys disciplining me... and humiliating me, and causing me pain. It's all part of his program to break me down so he can build me up the way he wants, and somehow he's managed to brainwash me into admiring the process. I can't lie to myself: the truth is, Brett's harsh treatment sometimes gets me sexually aroused to the point of orgasm. Not all the time of course; some of his punishments are too painful to allow sexual thoughts, but later thinking back on it I sometimes jerk-off reliving the painful experience and usually have a quick, awesome climax. Even after all the harsh treatment I've received from Brett, I have great admiration for him and my feelings for him are growing in other ways too. I guess it's sick of me to feel this way, but there it is just the same. As a matter of fact, not too long ago Brett cockily told me I'd be basically worshiping him by the time he's done with me, and he's probably right...I can feel my 'old' self slipping away, and this 'new' me that's emerging seems to belong to Brett.

It all starts with the confidence he projects and right this second it's getting me hot thinking about his arrogant facial expressions when he's humiliating me in some degrading manner. Lying here in bed stroking my cock, I'm vividly visualizing Brett tying my balls down low in my scrotum, stretching it in the process, and doing so without caring that it's extremely painful to me. To him it's a routine procedure, like cattle ranch hands branding their stock... the ranch hands don't give a thought about how the cattle feel, they just burn a brand into the cows hide and ignore it's bellows of pain. That's the way Brett ties down my balls, and... uh oh, my cock is totally boning-up now! My head's propped up on my pillow and I've pulled my knees up forming a tent in the sheets to allow easy access to my boner. God, I love jerking off. That picture I have in my head of Brett wrapping that fucking string lower and lower on my scrotum is so hot my boner just sprayed precum on my thigh... nice! I stroke myself tighter and faster, and oooohh, this is feeling good! Remembering Brett's bland expression as he wraps that string painfully around my nuts, me groaning from the pain of every twist of string and him ignoring my pleas for mercy. Oooooh, that picture is so awesome; I'm licking my lips and quietly grunting, the foreskin's flying on and off the head of my cock as I steadily stroke it and, oh yeah, here's some more precum's spraying out... and now I'm visualizing Brett poking his dirty fingers inside my mouth during Friday's inspection. He had me standing at attention with my head leaning down to his height, my mouth stretched wide open. It was simply him demonstrating his dominance over me.

He'd rubbed his dirty fingers on my tongue and pushed at my gag reflect area at the back of my throat, laughing when I repeatedly gagged, almost throwing up a couple of times. I felt like such a fool with my mouth stretched wide like that, but it still wasn't humiliating enough to satisfy Brett. He'd commanded, "Get it open wider, pussy!" His fingers tasted like dust... Oh, wait a sec...ah! ah! ah! I'm gonna cum! Black dots twirl around in front of my eyes as I stroke my boner faster and faster. There's electricity tingling along my boner and a buzzing starts up in my groin and then that sexy achy feeling near my balls at the inside of my thighs pulses on and off. I can't fucking breath, it'll be any second now, one more stroke and...YES! YES!! a hard stream of cum powers up from my nuts and flies out the gaping slit in my cock's helmet-head creating a long wet streak on the underside of my top sheet. Oh my gawd!! Moaning as if I'm in pain, squeezing my eyes shut and gritting my teeth together, stroking my boner in a frenzy... and, holy shit, here comes another fast flying string of spunk, then another! I'm at that stage where my shoulders are shuddering and random shivers zip around my body causing my long toes to curl up tight. The sensations traveling around my groin make me squeal with pleasure, like a child being tickled. The pleasure sensations spread out to my belly and legs and I feel weak, but awesome too... there's only drools of creamy, warm, sticky cum oozing out to slide down my fist now as I'm lazily stroking my still-hard cock. God damn, that felt good!! My climaxes were never this hot prior to meeting Brett... nowadays all I need to do is visualize one of his painfully humiliating indignities to me and the most amazing climaxes usually follows. Oh my god, I gotta let my heartbeat calm down for a second. Cum has splattered the underside of the sheet and now that I've flatten my legs on the mattress, the sheet drops stickily onto my legs; messy!

After climaxing my horniness has reduced to this mildly pleasant and manageable level and I'm able to think objectively about the playtimes, and the boys. It's true that when Brett's done with each session, finishing with the tender part of hugs and even some kisses there at the very end, I find myself glad he chose me for his program. Then, when I get home and a couple of hours goes by, my sensibilities rejuvenate and it all seems kinda nuts and out of control and unnecessary and gay. Some more time goes by and then it all seems much worse... it's terrible, just awful... the horrible things he puts me through! For a while I'll have a hard time looking at myself in the mirror, but it's merely a temporary condition... certainly an understandable one too. Another hour or two passes and eventually my feelings come full circle and I end up back where I started; in love with being submissive to Brett. It's totally nuts, I know, but he's got my brain all fucked-up. Sure, I know I've been manipulated somehow, but what am I supposed to do about it? Brett's gotten into my head in a sexy way; he's done it through some kind of brainwashing and he now controls my subconscious mind... and the result of that control is the indisputable fact that my conscious mind considers his dominance a sexual turn-on.

Oh well, on to the more mundane matters scheduled for today, including picking up my brother from prep school. In the bathroom though, I'm back to thinking about the playtimes. My thoughts this time center around me actually benefiting from them. I see changes in myself: After three playtime sessions I'm paying more attention to those around me now, and I do less thinking about myself and more thinking about pleasing others. And Mom's mentioned that I seem more alert, more action oriented lately. These are improvements in me personally, so it's not like all I do is rationalize away the bad stuff. Oh hell, maybe I've needed someone like Brett in my life for years, straightening me out and getting me more motivated. Yeah, but it's the gay-oriented aspect of everything that's disturbing. What I'm mostly puzzled about is how I so quickly adapted to the oral sex; got into it enthusiastically right from the start. Sure, I did oral sex on Frank Barns one summer when I was twelve years old, but that was kids stuff. Now, as an adult, I can't really see myself sucking cock! It's not who I am, but under Junior and Brett's control it seems I've come to yearn for the taste and the feel of their cocks in my mouth, and throat. I like rimming their asses too. Very, very odd 'cause I'm definitely not gay... like I said, it's gotta have something to do with my subconscious mind, that's where the brainwashing concept comes in.

Anyway, those were some of my thoughts as I took my shower, got dressed and then gulped down a bowl of cereal. Now I'm cruising down the long driveway to St. Johns' main entrance on my way to get Mikey. I'm checking out familiar landmarks on the outskirts of the campus; my mind's kind of a blank until, out of nowhere, a great idea hits me: I'll use Brett's techniques on Mikey! He badly needs new direction in his life, so why not use the motivational methods I've learned from Brett to shape Mikey up? It makes me smile to think that he may start feeling about me the way I'm beginning to feel about Brett. Not that I haven't sorta been Mikey's idol right along, but the feelings I have for Brett are too deep to be called a crush or hero worship. It's some kind of a special brainwashed bond I have with him: and I'm using "brainwashing" in a general way because I don't have any idea how Brett goes about it. Or maybe it's more to do with that stockholm syndrome theory, but whatever the explanation, I've developed a special bond with Brett. There's something else to consider too: I've had a thing for authority figures over the years; I've always been fascinated by people with power over others so that's played a part in allowing me to quickly reach the point I'm at right now; a point where I accept whatever Brett dishes out to me. Like making me wear a dildo tail, for example. Humiliating things like this teach humility, which I surely lacked until now. So, there's another example of how Brett's training is benefiting me, and it can benefit Mikey too. Oh boy, I'm excited about this!

It's settled then; I'll introduce Mikey to a variation of Brett's training and I'll start him off the same way Junior started me; Mikey needs to get a burr haircut. I think I've figured out the reason for the burr haircut, by the way. Hair that's cut this short becomes one less thing to worry about. It's like you don't need to waste time fooling around with your hairdo... you can use that time for something worthwhile. It may be unintentional on Junior and Brett's parts, but things like that, along with the discipline, gets results and that's where the brothers just may be unintentional geniuses or motivational proteges of some sort. Training Mikey will enables me to be on the other side of things for a change, and that just might be fun. I'll use most of Brett's techniques, except probably the sexual ones. Well, I'll try to eliminate the sexy ones. If the training doesn't work without sexual side issues, I'll need to include them too I guess. Actually the thought of sucking off my brother is hot to me now, but that's only because of the mind control Brett put on me. Wait a minute... it wouldn't be me blowing Mikey, it'd be him sucking me off. Ohhhh boy! That thought gets my cock moving in my shorts once more, for sure! Oh well, I'll give the oral sex and rimming some more consideration as Mikey's training progresses. Let me deal with picking him up and moving all his stuff back to the apartment first. Jesus, what a pain in the ass this moving is gonna be. We used to hire people for this sort of thing.

After showing ID and passing through the front gate I drive to Mikey's dorm. It's great driving through the campus, brings back a lot of memories... those were the days! Sadly for Mikey, he's not coming back here next year; he'll be going to public school. There he is coming out of the dorm, his wavy, long, blond hair blowing in the wind. Oh yeah, we'll begin with the burr haircut, that's an excellent place to start. Junior knows what he's doing there; getting an absurdly short haircut also has a second benefit; in addition to saving you the need to fuss with your hair, it also changes the way a person sees himself and prepares his mind for more changes. Mikey's always loved that long hair and I thought I did too until Junior changed my mind about that. Now I love short hair... well, not this short, but you know what I mean. Mikey looks so slight; frail actually. Well, I'll build him up 'cause he's going to need to get a lot tougher going to public high school. It'll be very challenging for him there because the rules about bullying aren't as strict in a public school as they are here at St. Johns, and he still got bullied here. Then it occurs to me that Brett's going into his sophomore year just like Mikey... oh my god, they could even be in some of the same classes. Mikey needs to be a lot more mentally and physically tough to deal with boys like Brett. It's a damn good thing I got this idea of a tough love approach; that's what it's got to be... a lot of discipline! Hmmmm.... from my viewpoint it really might be a lot of fun too.

When Mikey sees me, a nervous smile breaks out on his cute face... or was that a frown? He's wearing jeans and a long-sleeve shirt which is just nuts! The temperature has been in the nineties; he should be wearing shorts and a T-shirt like me. I get out of the car and we do a brief hug. I see he's moody again; probably because he's going to miss this place, and I can understand that but I did expect he'd be happier to see me. We load the car and drive the stuff home, then unload and put everything away and do all of it without much conversation. Mikey continues acting moody and mopey. Boy, does he need some direction, and it'll require a stern hand shaping him up too. The moving chore completed, we're off to the mall to buy Mikey some gym shorts and after that I'll take him for his haircut. He's going to pitch a bitch about that, but tough! I'll need to come back to the mall later to buy the girl's panties Brett's ordered me to wear. Whoa, here's a thought: I'm going to need to dress and undress in the bathroom so Mikey doesn't see those fucking panties I'll be wearing. No, wait! What am I saying? I'll order him to wear girl's panties too. Jeez, problem solved! I intend following Brett's example as closely as possible because he appears to have a solution for everything. That is, I'll follow as much of his methods as possible without hurting Mikey too badly. He'll need to be spanked of course, but I probably won't be caning him. Well, I don't have a cane anyway. Wonder where I'd go to buy one? Hmmm?

Mikey breaks his silence to ask, "Why do I need gym shorts?" Oh boy, here goes! I take a deep breath and begin explaining to him how I'm going to be putting him through exercises and workouts to help him get in better shape. I lie, telling him there's a volunteer program offered at work for self-improvement of mind and body and I've joined it to better myself. Without mentioning the oral sex part, and keeping vague my doggy training, I describe some of the difficult training and exercising involved in Brett's program. I explained how it's a new innovative method of exercise, and so forth... blah, blah, blah, and how I'll use some of the techniques I've learned to help him get stronger and mentally tougher and blah, blah, blah. I try making it all sound new and cool; like it's something we can do together that will be fun and benefit both of us. In addition, I'm upfront about the discipline aspects of it and as I'm describing a mild form of paddling a picture forms in my head of me paddling Mikey's bare ass and it gives me a hard boner that I need to awkwardly relocate sideways in my boxer shorts as I drive. Mikey looks skeptical throughout my dissertation, seemingly not thrilled about us spending so much time together. That surprises me; I thought the fact I'd been spending this time with him would be the big selling point.

When I finish my presentation, he whines, "Why do we need to do any of that shit, it sounds boring and dumb? I don't wanna do it!" Stopped at a traffic light, I deliberately reach over and slap his face, which he totally didn't expect... not a real hard slap, but a pretty good one. It felt good doing it too. Brett's slaps have a positive effect on me which is the only reason I slapped Mikey, and to help him see things more positively. He punches my arm knocking it away from the steering wheel, my foot slips off the break, and I scream, "I'm driving, ya nitwit, you'll get us both killed!" He yells back, "Don't fucking slap me then!" I need to calm down and talk some sense into him, so I say, "Don't whine. I merely want to toughen you up for your own good and it'll include some corporal punishment, like slaps across your face. I intend forcing you to help yourself, so you might as well get used to the concept. I'm only going through the trouble of doing all this because I love ya, bro! You're going to be in public high school next year where the rules of the jungle apply, so you need to get better at everything." He's pissed at the slap and frankly that surprises me 'cause I didn't think he had it in him to get pissed. I thought he'd accept it because his bigger brother was the one who slapped him. He's defiant instead, asking, "Why do ya need to slap me though? You never did that before." I tell him, "I just told ya, fer chrissakes! You're not listening; it's called tough love and it means I might need to hurt you a little to get your attention, or bring home an important point that I want you to remember." He goes, "I don't like to be slapped, Brian!" I retort, "Listen, at work I'm going through this same stuff so it's not like I'll be doing anything to you that I haven't experienced myself." He's quiet again.

No need to tell him about the more severe discipline Brett lays on me from time to time; like canning my ass. That would scare Mikey into peeing his pants. I can take the rough stuff... no way he could; not yet anyway. I'll work up to the harsher punishment. Still, right from the start, a taste of firm discipline from me will serve him well. Still acting a little defiant, he asks if mom knows about my plan. Shaking my head 'no', I explain that there are many reasons it would be a huge mistake to apprise her of this endeavor. I tell him, "We need to keep this between you and me because, since dad died, mom can barely look out for herself. Plus, she's never understood guy stuff and if we lay a problem like this at her feet she'll just crumble, and you know that as well as I do. No, it'll be just you and me. Hey, aren't you excited about you and me spending so much time together?" He goes, "Not really." He's being a wise-ass, but I know he won't tell mom about this; he's worried more about her than I am. After dad died Mikey got a pass from prep school to spend every weekend with her, so he knows very well how fragile she is. I've been away at college and haven't had to deal with it until now... a bit of a pain in the ass actually, but it's something I gotta tolerate, I suppose.

We're both quiet as I drive; I'm thinking that this cocky side of Mikey I've witnessed this morning must be a relatively new development. I can't remember him having a smart-ass attitude before; not that I've spent much time with him in the past few years. I'll ignore his fresh comments for now, then maybe give him a little harder spanking the first time around and mention his bad attitude during the spanking. Pulling at my crotch to adjust my pecker again, I'm thinking, "Wow! The thought of giving Mikey a good bare-ass spanking kind of excites me. Hmmm? I need to analyze that sometime soon." Of course, his training sessions will only be conducted when mom's at work, but that's no problem. She works Saturdays, and then there's the three nights a week she's at the department store until ten o'clock at night. Mikey says, "So mom won't be involved in this idea of yours at all?" I go, "That's correct, partner, we don't want to put any more burden on her than we need to. You and I will sort this out between us. Right?." He makes a face and I'm thinking that maybe Mom's interference was something he'd been counting on. Then he appears to have reconsidered, he does an elaborate shrug, like he's not worried about it, and drops the subject, mumbling, "Whatever, dude." I'm thinking, "Dude? That's kinda flip!" But I stay cool, and say, "You'll be pissed-off at me sometimes, but as your training progresses you're gonna learn to love me even more than you do now." He makes a face like, "What the fuck??" and incredulously asks, "Love you? Training? What am I, your fucking dog?" Shocked temporarily that he'd mention 'dog'... quite a coincidence! I hesitate, then say, "No, no! It's a training program, or exercise program, whatever ya wanna call it. The name doesn't matter."

I'm parking the car as Mikey halfheartedly agrees to give it a try, "Okay, let's see how it goes, Brian. It sounds weird, but ya know, I wouldn't mind doing a little body building; bulk up a little. The discipline thing raises the possibility you and I could get involved in some physical confrontations before it over, but we'll see. And anyway, I can put up with some discipline, I'm no pussy." Turning off the car, I turn to him and grab his thin arm, "You'll be getting all the discipline that I think is necessary; that's how tough love works, Mikey. I'm sorry but in the beginning I may be slapping you around and spanking you frequently... not because I want to, but because it's necessary to adjust your attitude. For your sake, not mine." He's like, "Lighten-up already!" I didn't mentioning this to him, but I'm giving some consideration to spanking him by putting his naked body across my lap and doing it that way. And, ha ha... that gets my dick tightening-up just like it did a little while ago when I thought about him and me doing oral sex together. This sexual reaction doesn't worry me, by the way; I know it's just a carry-over from Brett's indoctrination and mind-control, and therefore a temporary situation... why not make the best of it though? I finish up with, "This program is exactly what you need, Mikey. I needed it too, we're spoiled rich kids who are suddenly poor, and we gotta find the strength to cope with that unfair situation. Hey, you'll thank me in the end." He's going along with it for now, but I'll tell ya... he seems to have more spunk, more self confidence than I thought he had. Now that I think about it though, I have noticed a little more assertiveness from him lately, but I've also noticed his tendency to back-slide into his wimpy behavior at times too. For many boys it ain't easy being a teenager; not that I had any problem with it. Finally, maybe Mikey is starting to outgrow his crybaby personality. Of course, I've been away at Brown for three years and haven't done a lot of stuff with him in recent summers, so I'm not exactly an expert on Mikey O'Rielly. As we're walking through the parking lot, he mutters, "Just so ya know, I'm willing to give it a go, but it's mostly for reasons of my own. Not any of that double talk you blabbed about." He chuckles at that and it strikes me as being flip... I fought off the urge to smack his face again. Frankly, I can't wait to dispense some discipline on his ass; for his own good, like I said. I'm a lot stronger than he is so he's not gonna be able to do much about it; especially if he's hog-tied.

Inside the mall we buy his gym shorts at the same place I got mine. I've decided not to go to the lingerie department for the girl's panties after all. Mikey's gonna be wearing girl's panties too, but I don't want to go into all of that with him right now. Outside we head across the parking lot, past our car, to do something for old times sake. Something we've been doing for years. There's an awesome little ice cream shop featuring premium homemade ice cream that we've been hooked-on since Mikey was about eight years old. Even when we lived in our ritzy house in Dover, Massachusetts, we'd occasionally use this suburban mall, and whenever we did the whole family would always have an ice cream cone from Shawn's Ice Cream Treats... it's kind of a tradition. The shop is located just on the other side of a Goodwill department store and as we're walking by the Goodwill store, just minding our own business talking about what flavor ice cream we'll be getting, Brett Knight walks out the front door with an older man and bumps into Mikey. The Goodwill bag Brett's carrying gets knocked to the sidewalk and a bunch of used clothing scatters there. "You clumsy asshole," Brett snarls at Mikey. We all stop; Mikey has sort of a bemused expression on his face, which surprises me, but I imagine the reason he's not too concerned about Brett's anger is because Brett's so little and youthful looking. The man with Brett stoically looks on, his head cocked to the side like he's expecting something interesting to happen. Brett quickly picks up the clothes still not noticing me, he's focusing his cold stare on Mikey, who says, "Sorry you dropped your stuff, but you ran into me.. not the other way around."

It gives me a kind of a scary thrill in my balls anticipating what Brett will do to Mikey. Brett's so cool: slim and short, as I've said, but still he crackles with confidence and energy and he's so fucking good looking it's sick! Seeing him has me taking a big breath and groping myself. I've got it bad for my master. Yeah, I know it's stupid to think of him in that way, as my master, but I like to do it anyway... it makes us seem like a closer unit somehow. Just seeing him is a turn-on for me and, weirdly, I feel myself getting meeker by the second, becoming totally submissive to this little fifteen year old boy. The more submissive I feel, the more awesome the sexual sensations in my groin, and it's quickly got me squirming and grunting quietly. I grab my dick and hold on to it in the same way a five year old boy who needs to pee pee badly holds on to his dicklet.

The man with Brett is his father; I've seen him at work a few times, always wearing his BJ's uniform, of course. Today he's wearing a white tank top and very tight, black threadbare jeans... they look like they're painted on him or, if not, like they're ready to split at the seat, or the knees, or the crotch. The big bulge at Mr. Knight's crotch has me visualizing Brett's big cock and balls; like father, like son. The bottom of the jeans are tucked inside boots; cowboy style boots with a high heel. Mr Knight is short, like his sons, and even in the boots he can't be more than five foot six inches tall; a nice looking man though. Same short dark-brown hair as the boys and he's got the blue eyes Brett has and Junior's smooth complexion. My observations only take the five seconds Brett needs to neatly place the used clothing back into the plastic bag, still glaring at the nonplus Mikey. Brett's wearing beat-up shorts and a thin white T-shirt with the NIKE swoosh on the front. When everything is back in the bag, he finally does glance my way and sees me, but says nothing. Instead he stares back at me with his now familiar expression of arrogance and self-important... oh god, he's something! I look down and shuffle my feet trying to think of something to say. Automatically, my hand goes into my pocket to fondle my growing boner and Brett snaps out, "Stop doing that!" I pull my hand out and look anyplace but at Brett, both humiliated and embarrassed. I can't make myself look at Mikey either, but I sense he's amazed that I'm intimidated by this diminutive boy.

It totally has taken me off guard seeing two of my bosses out in the real world and I'm not at all sure how I should act around them. After all, one of them caned me just yesterday. From the time Brett bumped into Mikey until now, maybe ten seconds has past, but it seems longer. Mr. Knight leans in close to Brett and whispers something. Brett nods his head at him, then turns to me, and says, "Follow me, both of you." No 'hello'... just, 'follow me!' My dick tightens-up some more. I'm supposed to address him as 'Brett' when we're not in a playtime situation, so I say, "Oh, hi Brett. Sure, where we going?" He ignores me, turns his back on me and begins walking away. I can't see why I'm obligated to follow his orders when I'm not at work, but it's the safest thing to do. Mikey's got this expression on his face, like, "Who the fuck does he think he is?!" So, in a stage whisper, I say, "He's my boss at BJ's. Stick with me while I see what's up with him." Holding the bag with his gym shorts in his right hand, Mikey uses it to point at Mr. Knight, asking, "That man is your boss, or the boy?" I say, "Well, both of them technically, but the boy is my immediate supervisor." Frowning harder now, he mutters, "Ya gotta be kidding me, right? Not that little kid?" I'm shaking my head that I'm not kidding, while at the same time I've got my index finger to my lips, going, "Shhh," encouraging Mikey to keep it down. Then I whisper, "He's not such a little kid, he's almost as old as you, he'll be sixteen in a couple of weeks." Following Brett and his father, I'm pulling Mikey along by tugging on his arm. Brett walks quickly around to the back of the big Goodwill building and continues over to a shaded spot where a couple of picnic tables sit under some trees. He never once looked back to see if I'm following because he knows I am.

At one of the tables sits a much older man who closely resembles Mr. Knight. He's sitting with his legs crossed reflecting what I'd call a superiority attitude. Brett drops the bag of newly purchased used orsecond hand clothing on the picnic table next to this old man, obviously Brett's grandfather. The grandfather's also wearing faded jeans that are every bit as weathered and tight-fitting as Brett's father's jeans, except gramps has on faded blue ones. The older man also has a bulging crotch, similar to Mr. Knight's, which he's casually pulling at while silently nodding at Brett and his dad. Mr. Knight sits next to the older version of himself and leans over to whispers something, then leans back against the table top and crosses his legs in the same manner as the older guy. They both cross their legs in an effeminate manner with the top leg over the knee of the lower leg, the top leg hanging down against the calf of the leg supporting it. It's almost a miracle they can cross their legs at all considering the tight jeans they're wearing. Mr. Knight and the older man say nothing more; they merely stare at Brett and his two captives, me and Mikey... it's like they're watching a live reality TV show.

Brett says to Mikey and me, "Both of you, stand over here in front of me... right now!" My dick moves in my shorts again, as I say, "Um, ah, Brett. This is my younger brother, Mikey." Brett's not interested, he's pointing to a spot right in front of him, saying, "Right here, both of you. Stand at attention." I gulp as Mikey looks over to me for guidance. I think he's beginning to sense there's something unusual about Brett. I say, "Come on, Mikey. This will show you a little bit of what I was talking to you about a little while ago. Part of the training." I take Mikey's wrist and pull him to the exact spot Brett wants us in, then say to Mikey, "Stand-up real straight with your chin up, okay?" Brett says, "Shut the fuck up, Brian!" and as he says it he does that thing where he flips his index finger up under my nose to squish my nostrils upwards... then wipes his finger on my t-shirt. Mikey's watching, his eyes as wide as I've ever seen them. When he's amazed his eyes are wide, but when he's upset they're squinting; closed to slits. Of course I'm mad at Brett for humiliating me with that nose flick in front of my brother, but at the same time my dick is now embarrassingly pushing out the front of my cargo shorts. Brett's used to that reaction from me and casually glances at it, then reaches over and rubs the palm of his hand on the bulge as I stand up straighter and my dick gets harder. Mikey's eyes are like saucers when Brett turns to him, and says, "You! Move your ass over so your shoulder's right up against your brother's." Mikey, perhaps sensing he's not in Kansas any more, shuffles right over to get tight next to me. "That's good," Brett says, as he takes his hand away from my boner to reach up and push Mikey's chin up at a weird angle, "Hold it there for me. Yeah, just like that. Good!" Brett's got Mikey sticking his chin way up in the air, he look's absurd and he's blushing, getting redder and redder, probably feeling like a dork, but not sure what to do about it. My boner's poking my pants out so noticeably it attracts my brother's notice and he strains his eyes sideways and downward in their sockets to get a peek at it. Believe it or not, he's never actually seen my dick; there's been zero activity between us involving anything like a brother circle jerk or bathing together; nothing like that.

As we stand at attention before him, Brett's doing his usual visual appraisal. His face reflects a neutral expression as he gazing over us, touching our bodies here and there inappropriately. Brett's easy manner allows Mikey to think he can relax a bit too and soon our shoulders are no longer touching and his chin is in a normal position. Mikey's not been especially smart-ass with Brett, but I can tell he's still not taking him as seriously as he should. I'm sure it's Brett's size and baby face that's causing Mikey to underestimate him. Brett, in a much sterner manner, yells, "Get tighter together, god dammit! Shoulders touching, get that chin up, sweetie!" It startles Mikey and he immediately gets tight against my side again, our bodies touching from shoulders to sneakers; Mikey's chin way up in the air. Brett goes, "Give me that bag!" Mikey immediately passes it to Brett who looks inside, then exclaims, "New gym shorts? Ya paid full price for gym shorts? My dad and grandfather, Junior and me too... all of us buy perfectly good second hand stuff at Goodwill for a tenth the cost. Those cool tight jeans dad and grandfather are wearing were bought here at Goodwill years ago." He stuffs the gym shorts back in the bag, saying, "You rich people never need to buy second-hand clothes though, do ya? But wait, you're not rich anymore, that's right!" and he laughs, looking over at the statues that are his father and grandfather... neither of them changes expression. They're both kinda creepy, ya know? Me and Mikey are taking Brett's question about us not being rich as a rhetorical question, but two seconds later, Brett screams, "Are you??" and Mikey stutters, "Na na, nooo, we're pa pa poor now." He's totally lost any of the bravado he had earlier and resorted to his stuttering ways. Brett's looking arrogantly at my brother, then he starts squinting his eyes, mocking the way Mikey's squinting his.

Then, all business again; Brett drops our shopping bag on the ground, and says, in a pleasant, conversational voice, "Brian, I'd like to show dad and gramps a new exercise Junior and I are considering for the guys on the dock. You wouldn't mind if I used you and your brother as models, would you?" Asking me in that manner makes him sounds like a regular guy asking a favor, but I know better; it'll be something totally bizarre before he's through. Still, he's got all the power over me so I need to go along with him, but maybe I can make it appear to Mikey that I actually have a choice, so I say, "Well, if it won't take too long, sure we'll help you out." Brett mockingly says, "Well, ain't you nice! No, it will only take as long as I want it to," and he cups my crotch and gives my balls a tight squeeze making me go up on my toes, my face turning bright red, matching my brother's color of a few minutes ago. After a second hard squeeze that has me feeling sick to my stomach, Brett lets go and is immediately all business once more. He twirls his index fingers, saying, "You two, turn to face each other, up real close now... closer than that, touching from head to toe. Your nose needs to be pushing into your brother's face. Come on girls, a little tighter." Well, this is fucking awkward! Mikey and I have never been real demonstrative with affection towards one another. A brief hug when we see each other after a long absence, but that's about it. Now we're squished together embarrassingly tight.

As Mikey and I are chest to chest, Brett's over at the picnic table getting something from the Goodwill bag. I'm facing sideways to the table so my peripheral vision allows me to see Brett rustling through the bag and pulling out a long leather belt. The two older men don't move, their arms and legs crossed as before. Brett calls over to Mikey and me, "Put your arms around each other." We loosely do it, both of us feeling weirdly uncomfortable. Mikey obviously doesn't know what to make of any of this, but he's going along with whatever I do because he's intimidated by Brett. Coming right up to us and getting a hand on both out asses, Brett says, "Tightly, hold each other tightly! You're brothers aren't you? Push your crotches against one another. Tighter, goddammit!" Mikey tightens his arms around me and I really hug him hard. We're really pressed together, Mikey's nose a little below, and next to mine. Our lips are tightly closed, as I'm thinking, "How does Brett come up with this shit?"

He's talking, "This is a soft leather belt. It's soft because it's been broken-in by it's original owner, whoever that might be... but he was a big boy alright. New, this belt cost about forty dollars; used, we bought it for two dollars. It's a long belt because my uncle Bert needs a long belt. He's as big around as he is tall. Ha ha ha." Then Brett does a stage whisper, "He's a fat slob actually, but I'm too polite to mention it," and he snaps the belt in the air making a cracking sound. I'm thinking, "Even Brett wouldn't have the nerve to try whipping us in a public place." Brett interrupts my thoughts by reaching up and pinching my cheek, asking, "Should I get a radio so you two can dance?" This is about the most you'll see Brett goof around. He's enjoying himself 'cause he's got two big boys to bully. Then, putting my worries of getting whipped to rest, Brett starts threading the belt through my cargo short's belt loops at the back, then threads the belt through the loops at the back of Mikey's shorts and, pulling us together even tighter, he buckles the belt closed so that Mikey and I are squashed together at our belly buttons and crotches.

Stepping back, he laughs, and says, "This might actually work!" He tugs at the belt, but can't even slip a finger in between the belt and my waist. "There, how's that feel? Comfy?" Mikey says, "No, it's much too tight... what are you doing, anyway?" Brett ignores him, and says, "Ya know what? You two look like boy-and-girl twins. You look alike, but Mikey should be Marsha with all that hair. You're both very, very cute though. Wish I had some lipstick... you know, for Marsha." Mikey mutters into my face, "What's he talking about?" and I do a quiet, "Shhh" as Mikey's taking a big nervous, stuttering inhale, holding onto me tightly. Belted together at the waist so tightly like we are, it feels to me like we could easily tip over together. Brett's being goofy again, he asks, "Marcha, don't you agree that your brother's cute?" With his lips moving against my chin, Mikey says, "I don't know... um, I, I ,I, guess so." Brett laughs and gets behind Mikey and, I'm guessing from Mikey's reaction Brett's goosing him a good one. Then Brett pulls his own belt from his shorts and says, "You two need to squat down to my level for a sec." When we awkwardly manage to do that he belts our heads together and buckles that belt very tightly so our faces are squished together even tighter than before, and it's now almost impossible to move my head. "Okay, girls, stand tall. Here's the exercise: we call it shadow jumping jacks. Lets practice the jumping part first... keep your arms around each other and on the count of three, jump and spread your legs and hold them in that position."

He works us for about five minutes before we get the jumping fairly synchronized. Then we have to do it repeatedly with Brett calling out the cadence. Shortly sweat begins rolling down both out faces, mixing together. Our mouths are open now, gasping for oxygen as moist hot air breathes-out onto each other's face. We jump together in unison for maybe another three minutes, it's exhausting both physically and mentally because the slightest mix- up and the two of us would be tripping each other and tumbling around on the ground. I imagine that's what Brett was hoping for. Then our arms got involved. Letting go of each other, our arms over our head, we practiced the arms and legs jumping-jacks motion until we were again gasping for oxygen and dripping wet with perspiration, our shirts soaked through. Hooked together like we where meant we couldn't say, "Fuck this! We're leaving!" and anyway, I'm under Brett's power and control. I quietly kept encouraging Mikey to hold on just a little longer and it surprises me when he finally whisperes back, his lips moving below mine, "Save your breath, okay?" I hope he was trying to look-out for my welfare, but the tone sounded suspiciously like he was back to being a smart-ass with me again.

Finally Brett lost interest in his little torture game and calls for us to get our arms around each other again. "Give yourselves a nice congratulatory hug 'cause ya did good. I thought you'd be falling all over the place belted together like that. You looked awkward, but ya somehow pulled it off." Rare praise from Brett. Mikey and I go back to hugging each other and it seems a much more natural thing to do this time, and I think, "Hey, this is nice! If it weren't for Brett I may never have had an opportunity for so much physical contact with Mikey. Now we can feel more comfortable hugging in the future." Truth is, Mikey smells nice and I never noticed that before. Then I get this crazy urge to kiss my brother. With our faces belted together, kissing him gets to be an almost overwhelming urge, his body feels so good up against mine. Brett leaves us belted together for a few minutes as he talks with the old guys sitting at the picnic table. Mikey's trying to unbuckle the belt around our heads but it's buckled too tightly to undo with one hand. Making grunting sounds in his throat trying to undo the belt that remind me kinda like the ones I make while jerking off and I can't help myself, I kiss him quickly right next to his nose where my lips are sort of plastered against his face. Then five seconds later I give him a long kiss on the same spot and my cock, which has been boned up for quite a while anyway, twitches. Mikey's lips move against my chin, asking, "What are you doing, Brian?" I mutter, "I'm trying to get some moisture on my lips, that's all." Brett snaps out, "No talking! This is part of the exercise... keeping your balance." I couldn't hug Mikey any tighter. My dick's right next to his; I can feel his through the material of our shorts. Both our dicks are hard, pointing up, which surprises me... not that they're pointing up, but that Mikey has a boner, that's the surprising part. >From the feel of his boner next to mine, I'd guess we both have almost five inches of wood in our pants, and that thought causes me to tighten my buttocks and hump my hips lightly into Mikey. He says, in an irritated way, "Brian! Stop that!" Brett sees it all of course, which is too bad because he already thinks I'm gay. He's wrong, but my action here won't do anything to change his mind. I don't know why I did the kissing and humping, it's another mystery for me to unravel sometime; but, as I continually remind myself, Brett's got my brain totally fucked-up which is the reason behind all of my odd behavior of late.

"Okay, I found out what I thought I'd find out," Brett says, as he's struggling with both hands getting the belt loose from around our heads, then the one around our waists. He doesn't bother to explain what it is he found out, and I don't really give a shit what it is anyway. Brett's next command, which comes quickly. "Drop down, both of you, and give me twenty push-ups. Right now!" We drop and start doing push-up with me calling out the number. Mikey picks up on that and calls out the numbers along with me. It's soon obvious that he's doing the push-ups fluidly without any heavy breathing or struggling, and he did the jumping jacks easier than me too. What the...? That's another puzzle to figure out later; when did he get athletic? What's not a puzzle is why Mikey's going along with Brett's commands, it's because he's just as intimidated by Brett as I am. It's hard to articulate exactly how Brett intimidates so totally, but he surely does!

Finished doing the push-ups, we stand-up to get 'at attention'. My chest is heaving, but Mikey's breathing easily. Brett checks us both out, then asks me, "You don't mind helping me with this, do ya Brian?" As if I have a choice. Remembering the canning, I keep sarcasm out of my voice, saying, "No, I'm glad to help ya out." Brett asks Mikey, "How 'bout you sweetie?" With no stutter this time, 'cause I'm guessing Mikey didn't like the second "sweetie" remark and he's somehow managed to overcome his normal wimpiness, he mumbles, "As far as I'm concerned, I'm helping out my brother, not you... and don't call me sweetie." Oh shit! We were almost done here, but not now. Of all the possible times for Mikey to try breaking out of his shell and showing some of his recently acquired self-confidence, this is the worst time he could have chosen. Brett was just about to send us on our humiliated way, but now he's been disrespected by Mikey. Brett doesn't immediately respond to Mikey's back-talk, letting maybe two seconds go by as he's calmly staring at him, a little grin at his lips. Then, in a flash, he reaches up and takes a fistful of Mikey's hair at the back of his head, and pulls Mikey's head back hard, asking, "Well, well, Sweetie. Let's clear something up that I've be wondering about, and then you can tell me how I should address you. Here's my query, are you a girl or a boy?" Mikey immediately knows he's made a mistake and becomes stressed which means he starts stuttering again, "I, I, ah, ba, boy." Attempting to act like the big brother to impress Mikey, I say, "Um, ah, Brett, don't do that... he, ah, didn't..." Brett looks over at me, pulls Mikey's head back further, and says, "Shut the fuck up or I'll get the cane ready for you on Monday." A streak of fear runs through me as I begin rationalizing to myself, "Well, I planned on tough love for Mikey anyway... it's just starting earlier than I planned, that's all. And, Mikey might as well get used to this 'cause my training will be rough too."

No one would think a little kid like Brett would be as strong as he is, but believe me, Brett's strong both physically and mentally. Turning his attention back to my brother, Brett uses the fistful of hair to roughly pull Mikey's head over towards him to get their bodies next to each other, touching... he's always doing inappropriate touching which seems to be an effective way of demonstrating dominance. He says, "You about finished with the back-talk? You ready to do what I say, sweetie?" Mikey's turtled back inside his wimpy nerd shell... he gasps, then quietly says, "Ah, um, okay." Brett goes, "That's good, and keep that submissive tone of voice going for you too." Mikey manages a second, strangled-sounding, "Okay." Brett tells him, "I'm going to pull your head up and bend you forward at the waist." With the fistful of hair Brett straightens Mikey's head and then pulls it forward bringing it down to his level so he can put his nose into Mikey's long blond hair, and exclaim, "Oooh, nice! You say you're a boy, but you've got girls hair. It's silky and it smells good. How do you explain that?" Mikey makes some unintelligible response prompting Brett to take a step back and slap his face, then slap him again harder, asking, "How do you explain having girl's hair?" Tears now from Mikey, Brett's got him under complete control already. Mikey croaks out a whiny response, "I'm sorry, but I don't know how to explain it... I'm sorry." The smug look on Brett's face, plus the face slaps, naturally has me boning-up again.

Sure, this is totally unacceptable behavior by Brett, but I'm used to it by now. Curious to see what the two elder Knight men might think about this bizarreness, I glance over at them. What I see is blank expressions on both men's faces, then, with almost perfect synchronization the two older men re-cross their legs, switching legs so the bottom one is now resting on the knee previously on top, and they do it in that same effeminate manner as before. Their movements in those tight pants is weird and somehow disturbing. The grandfather moves his eyes to stare into mine. He's holding my stare hypnotically as he digs in his ear with his little finger. His eyes are the color of Junior's; there are wrinkles around the grandfather's eyes, and his nose has many fine squiggly red veins; the nose of a heavy drinker perhaps. Still, a good looking man for his age... nice facial features. He digs something out of his ear and breaks eye contact with me to look at it. Making a face, he sniffs it before flicking his little finger until the matter flies off... disgusting!

I'm still looking at the older men; neither the grandfather's nor the father's blank expression changes when Brett tells the now docile Mikey, "Reach into my pocket and pull out my wallet." My eyes move back to Mikey as he reaches behind Brett's ass and slides his fingers into the back pocket of Brett's flimsy, second-hand shorts. "There's no wallet in here," he meekly says. Brett goes, "That's because it's in my side pocket, pussy. Get your hand off my ass and put it all the way inside my side pocket." Mikey's eyes are almost closed, as he whines, "You're pulling my hair too hard, please let up a little... please!" I don't suppose Mikey would ever dream of asking Brett to stop pulling his hair all together, asking him to let-up a little is apparently the most Mikey, in his present state of mind, can possibly hope for. Kids like Mikey get used to being bullied and maybe get to thinking they deserve the bad treatment. Under Brett's control, Mikey has regressed way back to his super wimpy days. Brett yanks Mikey's head up and then down hard, actually pulling hairs out of his head by the roots, saying, "Let-up like this, is that what you mean, pussy?" Mikey's going, "OW! OW!" tears rolling down his face. I tell myself that Mikey brought this on himself and it'll eventually be for his own good. It'll help to toughen him up; this treatment from Brett should make Mikey more compliant to my training of him too. So, even though he doesn't know or care about it, Brett's helping me out again. Mikey's hand is fully inside Brett's pocket now and, with a sniffle, he says, "I'm sorry, but there's no wallet in here either, just some paper money," Brett says, "Feel further over," and I see Mikey pushing his hand over, then his eyes close tightly and he blushes a dark red, "Oh, sorry, Bra, Bra, Brett! I, I, I didn't kno, know, your pock, pocket was ripped!" Brett says, "You just touched my dick, ya homo!" Mikey's quietly stuttering, "I, I, did, did, didn't know..." Brett cuts him off with, "Bring out the money and stop fondling my cock, ya stuttering nerd." Mikey pulls two dollars out of Brett's pocket and looks at it like he's never seen two dollars before. Okay, I feel bad for Mikey now, but anything I try to do to help him will only make the situation worse. Brett does a lot of positive things for me, but there's also the side of him that's basically the worst kind of bully there is, and guys like him will be around forever.

This is something Mikey needs to understand and maybe I can show him how to handle it without allowing it to diminish him too much. As for myself, I've adopted a game-like approach to it by trying to recognize some benefits from it while enjoying any of the other parts I can. That's my defense mechanism, I'll come up with something for Mikey 'cause we're both susceptible to this kind of shit. Me because I'm attracted to dominant boys and Mikey because he's basically still more of a timid wuss than the confident kid he tries to be at times.

Brett says to Mikey, "Okay, ya got two bucks out of my pocket; let's see what I can get out of your pockets, sweetie." With the fistful of hair, Brett pulls Mikey's head down further, to crotch level. Mikey's almost doubled over as he, more quietly now, is going, "Ow, ow ow, ow... that hurts, please..." Brett, ignoring Mikey's begging, looks at me to say, "Take this two dollars and get me a medium regular coffee at Dunkin' Donuts." Then he looks over at the picnic table to asks his father and grandfather, "You want a coffee or something?" The grandfather, says, "Have him get me a corn muffin," Brett tells me, "You pay for it and I'll hit ya back on Monday." I take the two dollars and watch as Brett sticks his hand into Mikey's side pocket and rustles it around until he has Mikey trying to close his thighs together, going, "Ah, ah, ah!" Brett's goosing Mikey's pecker, of course. Chuckling, Brett finally pulls a small comb out. Looks at it for a second, like he's thinking of what he can do with it, then glances up at me still standing in my spot, fascinated at how Brett's handling Mikey and maybe a little bit glad it's not me this time. With arrogance dripping off every word, Brett asks, "You still here? Run, college boy, run! Do your errant! Get me my coffee!" and I take off running to the mall. When I look back from the mall's entrance, I see that Brett's let go of Mikey's hair, but Mikey's bending over on his own now, keeping his head in the same position. Brett's cupping under Mikey's chin with the palm of one hand, holding Mikey's head up a little, and combing Mikey's hair forward from the sides and top of his head. The hair is normally parted in the middle and combed down over his ears but Brett's combing it forward over Mikey's face and it's so long it creates a hair-veil covering all the way down to his top lip. A veil of wavy blond hair. The two older assholes continue to just sit there on the bench of the picnic table watching silently as fifteen year old Brett thinks up ways to humiliate me and my brother.

Hustling with the coffee and muffin back to the picnic area behind the Goodwill store, I come running around the building to see that Mikey is now sitting between the father and grandfather, each has a hand on one of his thin thighs. Mikey's still hanging his head forward so Brett can easily run the comb from the back of the head, over the top and down through the hair-vail covering his face. All this combing has trained the hairs to stay in place except static electricity has built-up and a flock of hair lifts up and follows the comb wherever it goes. Brett says something that I'm too far away to hear, then Mikey's lips move as he says something back. My brother's sitting there between the two old derelicts without sneakers or socks. They lay scattered under the table. His jeans have been rolled-up to just below his crotch exposing his thin hairless legs. His shirt sleeves are rolled up to his armpits and his thin arms are clasped behind his head, each hand cupping the opposite elbow. Obviously everything about this picture has been orchestrated by Brett. Slowly, Mikey's bare feet move in the grass under the picnic table bench. I've no doubt that by now Brett has Mikey eating out of his hand and I'm equally sure he's extracted whatever information Brett might want to know about me, Mikey, and our family; past and present. It's a creepy picture, the three diminutive Knight men surrounding my tall brother who's acting as docile as a baby lamb. No doubt Brett only needed to tell Mikey one time to do each thing, "Take off your sneaks, now your socks. Roll up your pants. Do it tighter than that!" and so on. What unbelievably bad luck we had running into Brett today. Mikey and me, we're going to need to suffer this kind of humiliation until things turn around for us. I can't help but think a lot of the blame for our unfortunate situation is my father's fault. He should have taken better care of himself and maybe he wouldn't have had the heart attack and I wouldn't need to be a common laborer and Mikey and me wouldn't need to bare these indignities. I can't see how any of this is my fault... it's just my bad shitty luck things happened like they did.

As I get closer to the group my feet make a scrunching sound on the gravel path attracting everyone's attention and they all look in my direction. Brett snaps, "Get over here, University boy!" I run over and deliver the coffee to Brett, who says, "Don't hand it to me, can't you see I'm busy combing your sister's long hair? Put the coffee on the picnic table." I set the coffee down and meekly pass the bag with the corn muffin to the grandfather who lets go of Mikey's leg to grab the bag from my hand and, without so much as a, "thank you," he goes into the bag for the muffin and then takes a big bite out of it. He bites it the way you'd bite an apple. Brett says to me, "Don't look at gramps, look at me; you're to pay attention to me! Get your ass right here!" I jump, then hustle to get in the 'at attention' position at the spot Brett pointing at. He says, "Your sister tells me you were going to do a little tough love training for her. Where'd ya ever get the idea a pussy like you could do that?" My face got hot with a dark red blush. It's my huge embarrassment that Mikey told Brett about that, and it's also humiliating that Mikey's hearing me being bullied like this by a kid his own age. I shrug my shoulders at Brett's insult, and meekly mumble, "I don't know," Brett says, "Of course you don't know, ya dumb shit, but no need to worry 'cause I'm gonna take care of Mikey for you." At least Mikey can't see my red face and submissive posture as I shrug again, and meekly say nothing to that last comment. I can't say anything because my hearts beating too hard and I'm afraid my voice might crack like an adolescent's. Did I fucking hear what I think I just heard, and does it mean what I hope it doesn't mean? He's going to train Mikey?! I glance up to see crumbs bounce off grampa's thighs and then onto Mikey's while the father continues massaging Mikey's crumb-free thigh up near the crotch area and there's definitely a tent building in Mikey's lap. Standing here absorbing this disturbing scene, my hand goes in my pocket to rub my dick through my underwear. Brett's made me feel ridiculously submissive, and as embarrassing as that may be to me, it's a huge turn-on too.

As I rub my firm dick, I hear the old man noisily eating the muffin never closing his lips, and the subtle static electric snapping sounds created as the comb runs through Mikey's dry hair. This goes on for maybe twenty seconds, then Brett goes, "Marsha here has a question for ya, big man on campus. Go ahead, girlie-boy." Mikey asks me if I think it would be alright with mom if he gets a haircut like mine because then Brett would hire him as a part timer. I didn't tell him yet that I was going to take him to Leo's myself; so the haircut itself is no big deal to me, but Brett hiring him is a very big deal to me! Hoping to sound less wimpy than I feel, I say, "We don't need to ask mom if it's okay, you're sixteen years old fer christsakes... you can have any haircut you want. Do ya think I asked her permission to get my haircut? Don't be ridiculous!" Of course it was Junior who ordered me to get my haircut; mom had nothing to do with it. Brett says, "It's all settled then. Get his haircut and then bring minni-skinny Mikey to work with you on Mondays and Wednesdays and we'll let him join us for playtime too. Sound good, Brian?" Uh oh, this is an absolutely awful development! I stupidly say, "Ah, he's too young, don't ya think?" Brett says, "Ya dumb shit, he's older then me!" I make a goofy face, like, "Duh, I forgot!"

Brett flips his hand at me like I'm not worth discussing this with, then stops the humiliating combing of Mikey's hair, looks up at me, and says, "Check your brother's feet." I frown and stare stupidly at Mikey's bare feet. Brett says, "Take his ankle in your hand and lift his right leg." When I do that, he says, "Smell his foot. See if he needs oder eaters like you should be wearing." I pretend to sniff and Brett yells, "Put your nose on the sole of his foot or I'll ask my grandfather to do the inspection." Mikey whines, "You do it, Brian." The poor kid, so I lift his leg again and bend my neck to get my nose on the bottom of his foot and it smells like a foot, but not in a bad way." "Take a taste!" Brett orders, and I do a little lick and surprisingly I'm not repulsed as much as I thought I'd be. I mean if I can do rimming, I guess I can lick my brother's fucking foot. Brett's expectig me to struggle with this and gag or hurl, but I'm getting used to his abuse... I can take it. Brett now takes me through a whole series of supposedly unpleasant things like sucking Mikey's toes and getting his little toe up my nose and licking between each of his toes. It must be the brainwashing or something, but I find it quite pleasant. I like the natural smell of feet, but not to the degree Brett and his grandfather apparently; they became aroused greatly by this activity and I got the feeling they wanted to be doing all this instead of me. Eventually, like almost anything Brett makes me do, it got to be no big deal. In fact, I think I ruined Brett's fun when I asked him, "Should I do Mikey's other foot now?" Brett had a nice boner poking out the front of his shorts watching me almost eat Mikey's big foot, but he'd had enough and he shook his head 'no'. I'm thinking he was too aroused to speak. He's worked over my feet in one of the playtime sessions so I know about his interest in feet. I feel I've won a small victory here, but Brett's not a good loser so it might backfire if Brett takes revenge on either Mikey or me.

Mikey's feet are back in the grass, my tongue's aching a little from all the licking, as Brett finds his voice and says, "You enjoyed that didn't you?" I said, "No, not really." He goes, "Liar!" I shrug again, and Brett asks, "Ya see that Rite Aid pharmacy at the end of the block?" I stupidly look down the block, and ask, "That one?" Brett says to me, "Yes, Einstein, that Rite Aid... the one I'm pointing at. Run down there and buy scissors; I've decided to help Uncle Leo. I'll give him a head start on Mikey's mop of hair. It'll help Mikey too 'cause he'll be able to see where he's going after I get the hair out of his eyes." I hesitate, thinking, "So it's going to be Mikey who pays for my little morale victory with the foot licking... life's a bitch!" Brett shouts, "Now, BMOC! Get your ass moving!" I start running again, what else can I do. Goddammit! I'm powerless and while it can be sexy to act submissive to Brett, it's also a really hopeless feeling at times. At the door of the drugstore the reality of it hits me like a sledgehammer, "Mikey's going to be part of the playtimes!!! Oh no!!" Licking Mikey's feet got my mind off that for a while. Oh my god! How the fuck am I going to handle having him in playtime with me? Isn't it humiliating enough already?! This is so overwhelmingly troubling I need to blank my mind for the time being, it's overloaded with too many worries. Then, running back with the scissors, I stupidly think of what mothers tell little children, "Don't run with scissors!" Yeah, but they don't know Brett Knight. Fuck the running with scissors warning, there should be a warning about him. But even as I think that, I kind of wish he was combing my hair instead of Mikey's; if I had any hair, that is. Arriving back behind the building I see that Mikey's off the bench now, standing barefoot, but still bending forward at his waist, his hair still covering his face, his arms folded across his chest. Brett's examining Mikey's buttocks, the same way he examines mine. He's squeezing handfuls of Mikey's skinny ass, then pressing his finger along Mikey's ass crack. When I'm standing at attention next to Brett, he says, "Your brother has the same weak glutes as you... it must run in your family."

Brett's worn me totally down again, but even so I still feel something twitching in my balls, something that feels good, but I'm awfully weak right now too. It's the unexpected attacks on my sensibilities that creates conflicting emotions in my head... it gets overwhelming, and makes me tired. I weakly mumble, in a bored manner, "I don't know if it runs in the family or not." He shakes his head slowly, like I'm such a loser he can't believe it, then he goes back to rubbing Mikey's ass. Without looking at me, he says, "You're pathetic! Ya see how your brother has his shoes and socks off, and his sleeves and pants rolled up?" I mumble, "Yes." He says, "Get yourself in that same condition. Get those sneakers off right now." In less than a minute I was like Mikey: barefoot and looking like a geek with my shirt and shorts rolled up tight to my torso. My cargo shorts only took a couple of roll-ups, and my short sleeved t-shirt was easy to roll-up to my shoulders. Mikey has jeans and a long-sleeve shirt on so it had to have been a lot more trouble rolling those up. Brett says, "Give me the scissors and then go sit on the bench next to my grandfather." The two older men move apart a little as I hand Brett the scissors, then I sit barefoot in between the two older men, feeling like the biggest smacked-ass in the world. After I sit down they shuffle in towards me so we're all three tightly together and they both massage my thighs. Gross!

Finished with the ass massage, Brett walks around to Mikey's head testing the scissors by opening and closing the blades as he goes. In front of Mikey, who's still bent over at the waist, Brett cups Mikey's chin again, holding his face up, then slides the bottom blade of the opened scissors under Mikey's hair at the hairline and casually closes the scissors. The scissors slice through the hair easily, making a crunching sound, and a pile of wavy blond hair falls onto the grass. Mikey's left eye is in plain sight now... he's squinting it almost fully closed. The scissors slide under more hair at the hairline and the crunching sound eliminates another huge amount of Mikey's hair. The third crunch cuts the hair off the rest of his forehead and extends about an inch into the side hairs, cutting down to the scalp. Brett mutters, "That's a little better. Let's uncover those ears of yours too," and the crunching continues all around the sides and back of Mikey's head leaving layers of shingles consisting of hairs cut to the scalp and hairs about an inch long. Mikey docilely maintains his head in the proper position giving Brett total access. After about a minute's worth of cutting, Brett looks over at the bench and says to us, "My hands wicked tired already. How does Uncle Leo do this all day long?" Brett and his relatives chuckle as if that was actually funny. As the two older men laugh, they're also shaking their heads like they can't believe the gull, the audacity of Brett; frankly, this humiliating haircut even shocks me. Mikey's silently crying; probably humiliated beyond belief that he's allowed his beautiful head of hair to be devastated like this. No burr for Mikey, now it's gonna need to be an eight of an inch buzz cut all over his head. Brett's giggling, running his fingers though the combination of short stubby hairs and bristles... then he's brushing stray hairs and pinching Mikey's nose like you might do to a three year old. He says, "Stop the crying and go over to sit on the bench." Docily, his shoulders slumped, still bending at the waist and sniffling, Mikey starts over as Brett gives the back of his shorn head a couple of loud slaps along the way, saying, "Move faster when I give you an order!" He's relentless! The old guys squeeze over to give Mikey room to sit down next to me, in between the two of them.

Brett saunters over and says to me, "Foot up!" and I lift my leg, he says to Mikey, "Get up and give your brother a foot inspection the way he did for you." Mikey moves fast this time. He scrambles back off the bench and takes hold of my ankle, then looks at Brett with sort of a petrified expression on his face. The haircut must have scared the shit out of him... knowing that Brett is capable of doing something like that, ya gotta worry what else he's capable of doing. Brett says, "Get going, dummy!" and my brother sucked my toes and licked my feet and dragged his nose along the soles of each foot. Anything Brett could think of, Mikey did immediately.

Aroused by his foot fetish, a boner in his shorts, the ever effervescent Brett is never done humiliating us, and he cheerfully orders, "Hey, barefoot boys, get in your seats now and pull your clean feet up on the bench and wrap your arms around your knees. Keep your faces up." Mikey looks over at me as I pull my legs up on the bench, my heels at the edge, my arms wrapped around my legs. He sits beside me and follows my lead. I sense an ending to this episode of intense humiliation and, my boners not withstanding, I really do need it to be over. Brett says, "Big smiles!" And as the older men cover their faces with their hands, and with neither Mikey nor me smiling, Brett takes four pictures with his cell phone, laughing while he says, "What an addition this will make to our collection!" Leaving us in that awkward position, Brett's takes a drink of his coffee, beaming, totally pleased with himself. The grandfather and father on either side of Mikey and me stop fondling our thighs, exchange looks, the the father says, "Brett, you get the bag with our Goodwill stuff! We're leaving now. Neither of these pussies is a challenge for you so you're grandfather's bored." At the first word from his father, Brett's whole demeanor changed immediately. His posture changed right before my eyes. It switched from dominant to submissive. He immediately put down the coffee, picks-up the bag, "Yes, Sir! Right away." Then, carrying the bag, standing straight, Brett walks away with the two men. He maintains himself a little behind his father's left leg, being sure to maintain a close proximity to it, but not touching it. Brett, never even looked back. He was silent, but seemingly alert to a possible command from Mr. Knight. Mikey and I are discarded, forgotten like broken toys left in the back yard. Neither a word of thanks nor a wave goodbye. We're like inanimate objects to those three. The two older men are carrying on a conversation as they walk, Brett silently carries their purchases.

Mikey and I put our feet down on the grass and, sitting together on the bench, watch as the Knight threesome disappear around a big brick building at the end of the block. When they're out of sight we silently switch our attention and now stare at the pile of Mikey's pretty wavy blond hair scattered on the grass. There's some long strands of hair in one of my sneakers which had been accidentally kicked by Mikey and lay not far from where the haircut took place. The scissors I'd bought at Rite Aid are on the grass near the largest pile of hair. Remembering how nice his body felt earlier, I put my arm around Mikey and pull him against me and he starts crying quietly again. He's probably just now realizing the degree of humiliation Brett put on him and I know from experience that it's hard trying to convince yourself you have any dignity left. The previous bullying he's experienced must seem like child's play compared to what Brett put on him. Poor kid isn't used to it like I am. And it's not gonna get any easier for Mikey either because now I gotta tell him everything; there isn't any other option... he's going to see everything for himself Monday and he needs to be prepared for it. Guess I can't put this off. Using my free hand I get a cigarette out of my pocket and light it. God!... the nicotine hits the spot! I needed it because I'm feeling really low-down and depressed. This depressed feeling is not because of Mikey haircut particularly, Mikey was going to get most of his hair cut off anyway. My depression is because of all the explaining I've got to do about the training program. And, none of what I need to tell him puts me in a good light. All the embarrassing things I do at Brett's command can't be interpreted in any other way but pathetic. My hero status, as far as Mikey's concerned, is probably gonna be on life support by the time I'm done explaining everything. Come to think of it, maybe the hero status is already on life support considering I did very little to help him today. After a bit, I notice Mikey's crying has run out, so I let go of him, and he mutters, "Let me have one of your cigarettes, would ya Brian?" "You smoke?" I asked, shocked. He goes, "Yeah, for two years now." He lights up and absently says, "Ya know, that kid is insane!" I go, "He does the same kinda thing to me that he does to you. It's some kind of mind control, Mikey." He's shaking his head, smoke drifting from his mouth, he mumbles, "Ya know, that foot sniffing and licking thing is a trip, isn't it? I got a friend who's into that too, so I knew some of what to expect and I'm a little bit used to it... it's weird, but kinda cool too." Again I'm totally speechless! What can I say to that?

What we do is: we smoke two cigarettes each, not talking much, then I quietly say, "I'll help unroll your jeans for ya," and he holds his leg out so I can do that. To lighten the mood I pretend to lick his foot, and Mikey says, "Go ahead, I like it!" but of course I don't. His feet do smell nice though. When his pant leg's rolled down I settle for squeezing his foot, remembering how it tastes. We get all our sleeves and pant legs unrolled, then wander away from the scene of the massacre. I buy a baseball cap for Mikey in Goodwill to cover his butchered hair until we get to the barbers. "Let's go get your hair buzzed, Mikey, and on the way I got a lot of hard things I gotta tell ya about." He says, "Nah, don't tell me nothing, Brian, I've changed my mind. I was gonna be that fucker's gofer, but not after what he did to my hair, he's capable of anything! I've never felt like such a pussy, but I simply couldn't make myself do a fucking thing about it except cry. So he can stick that job up his ass!" I mutter, "I wish it was that simple." Neither of us wanted an ice cream cone after this disastrous experience, so I say, "Come on, I gotta explain my unfortunate situation to you."

During the next half hour, on our way to Leo's Barbershop, I explained my sad circumstance. I started from the beginning, repeating some stuff I'd told him earlier, but this time I included more of the humiliations I've experienced: First the job interview and the bullying from Junior, then the bullying and inappropriate touching elevated to ridiculous levels when Brett took over. I was truthful about how the boys make me grovel and how I never complain about any of it during the interview because I needed the job so badly, and then they got the blackmail material that first Friday at work and things got much worse. They used poppers on me to get me in naked embarrassing situation and then took pictures of me. "And that's why you need to come with me to work on Monday, to keep them from ruining my life by putting the pictures on the net, and on Brown Universities' Facebook, and showing mom, and who the fuck knows where else the pictures would appear. It would destroy mom too, not just me... you too!" Mikey goes, "Fuck! How could you be so stupid?" I said, "I just told ya! They drugged me." He's shaking his head, mumbling, "I guess I gotta go with you, but I can't believe you put us in this fucked-up position?" None of what he's saying, nor how he's saying it, sounds like the brother I know. Maybe I just haven't been paying attention.

Blowing the horn at some asshole who cut in front of my car, then for something to say, I mentioned, "Brett has a foot fetish, Mikey," and he says, "Duh, ya think? I already told ya about my friend, Dwight, and his foot fetish." That name doesn't ring a bell so I drop that subject and go on to tell him some unpleasant general examples of what I go through during playtime. Mikey's going to be going through it too so he deserves to know what to expect. I talked about the paddling and from there I went into the unbelievably embarrassing dog training. I outlined how Brett trains me with the shock and slip collars, and about the way my legs are tied-up imitating a dogs hind legs and on and on, repeating myself at times trying to get it all out. The more I described the situation to Mikey, the sorrier I feel for myself and that made me think about the possibility that maybe things will go easier on me with Mikey being Brett's second doggie to play with... not that I wish it on Mikey, but if we don't have any say in the matter, ya know? What I don't mention to him is the canning and I skip over the oral sex for now too. Same for the girl's panties, and a few other things like the dildo doggie tail. I figure I've got all weekend to slip in these other unsavory additional training measures. Don't want to totally overwhelm Mikey with one giant blast of bad news, although what I've told him so far might have overwhelmed him already.

Silence in the car as we drive past our apartment on the way to Leo's, we were smoking cigarettes and contemplating our fate. Finally, Mikey, seemingly perplexed, goes, "I've been thinking that somethings missing here. Shouldn't there be some sort of homosexual behavior involved with a situation like you got yourself into? I mean, what's the point as far as what's-their-names are concerned, Brett and the other guy? Ya know, why go through all this if there's no sodomy or oral sex involved, right? Parking the car down the block from Leo's, I'm stunned by this question. But, now that I think about it, why am I stunned? After all, he's sixteen years old and he has a computer... he probably knows everything I know about sex. Lighting another cigarette to stall for time, wondering how best to proceed, then I figure, "He's going to find out everything anyway," so I answer, "Yeah, you're right, Mikey. I haven't told you the worst parts yet, it's not easy admitting to all of this." Mikey reaches over to take my cigarette, and says, "Light yourself another one," then, "Well, spit it out fer chrissakes! I need to know what I'm dealing with here. I know I'm nerdy and not much of a fighter, but I'm not stupid or oblivious. That little Brett character is into BDSM and common sense tells me he's done worse to you than you've described so far. Obviously he's ruthless, and he certainly intimidates the shit out of me, and yet... there's something about him, ya know?" I light another cigarette without commenting, and Mikey, asks, "Come on... what's Brett done to you than you haven't had the balls to tell me about?"

First of all, I can't fucking believe the way Mikey took my cigarette and ordered me, "Light yourself another one," that's not like him. Next, he comes right out discussing homosexuality and BDSM, and whatever else... that's also not what I'd ever expect from him. And lastly, he asks what else Brett's done to me as if I'm too big of a pussy to tell him and the truth is I'm trying to ease into it so he doesn't get so scared he shits his pants. I'm getting no respect here! I try going on the offensive, "Don't be such a wise-ass, Mikey... we're in this together. And, how do you know about all this stuff anyway?" As I figured, he says, "The internet, obviously..." and then he drops a bomb shell on me, adding, "Also, me and a friend experiment with this kind of thing a little ourselves. Nothing as advanced as the stuff you've described, but we take turns tying each other up and tickling or pinching, which can get wild. Sometimes one or the other of us will play with the tied-up guy's cock, just to tease, that sort of thing. It's one of the reasons I was willing to have a go with your discipline thing in the first place. The more I thought about it, the more interesting the possibilities; if ya know what I mean. And, I was going to take the job with Brett until the midget psycho went about fucking up my hair, and I figured, "Who needs this shit?". Now, thanks to you, I don't have a choice! But, like I said a while ago, in hindsight, there's something about Brett that's dangerously enticing, ya know?" This is totally fucking freaking me out, but I manage to say, "I can hardly believe my ears. You and your friend get into BDSM, and you find Brett intriguing? WTF Mikey? Where you coming from?" He goes, "I don't know what you're talking about. You don't really know me anyway, Brian. That's not necessarily a criticism 'cause I hardly know you either... what the hell, we've been in separate private schools most of our lives. It's no big deal anyway." Jeez, he's right. I say, "Yeah, I guess you're right but I thought we were closer than that. Hey, what else do you and your friend do together with the BDSM stuff?" Now it's Mikey's turn to hesitate. He looks away, then blurts out, "Oh shit!" He blushes a little, does a nervous laugh, and says, "Yeah, well, oh hell, man... we suck each other off sometimes... and if that ain't bad enough, we're also thinking of doing the bum hole thingie. Now you come clean too!" I'm speechless! This is unbelievable! I say, "Is it that kid, Dwight, you do it with?" He flicks his hand at me, and goes, "Oh, hell no. It's another kid. Dright's mostly into the foot thingie." I'm in the twilight zone here... he knows more than one kinky friend?

Okay, this is an incredibly unexpected turn of events, but will it work to my advantage or disadvantage? Oh, I mean, it goes without saying that I have Mikey's well being as my top concern, but after that, ya know... I'm just wondering how it'll affects me, that's all? We'll have to give it some time, let it play itself out. For now though, it's fascinating I didn't have a clue Mikey was involved in anything like BDSM and the gay related stuff he's told me about? I can't fucking believe I've ignored him to this degree, but apparently that's the case. Whatever... it's my turn to tell him all the other stuff Brett forces me to do. So, blowing a lot of smoke out the car window, I mumble, "I can't tell you how surprised I am to hear you're experimenting with buddy sex, but thanks for telling me about it because that's made it easier for me to admit to the weird shit I've been doing. Of course, in my case, I'm forced to do it against my will." Mikey's all ears, he's like, "Yeah, yeah... go ahead, what's he make ya do?" Flicking my cigarette butt out the window, then lighting yet another one 'cause this isn't the kind of things you normally talk with your little brother about, but I gotta do it anyway, "Okay, here goes: They make be blow them both, for one thing." With his eyes wide open, he excitedly asks, "One after the other... or at the same time?" I go, "Oh hell! This is painful to talk about, Mikey, I'm only going to give you an outline for now. Details can wait," hesitating for a few seconds to adjust my package 'cause it began vibrating when I confessed to sucking off the Knight brother. Then, with smoke drifting from my nose and mouth, I continue, "They've got me rimming their asses too, and licking and sucking on their balls." This makes Mikey giggle and slap the dashboard, then cough, then the giggle turns into a deep, delicious quiet laugh. I'm staring at him with my mouth open, so he looks over and punches my shoulder, sputtering, "Keep your eyes on the road, dude! Ha ha! Licking their balls... that sounds so funny! Do they have hairy balls?" I sputter, "Fuck the details, Mikey! This is difficult for me." He goes, "Oh, that's alright, it struck me funny, that's all. I'm not making fun of you," and then some more giggling.

It seems like he is making fun of me though. How can he be so blase about all this? His laughing turns into hiccupping, then he manages to ask, "Do you like doing any of that?" Unfortunately, now he's arrived at the heart of the matter. I hesitate, then look over at him, saying, "No, of course not! Brett's got me brainwashed into thinking I do, but I wouldn't like doing it if he hadn't done the mind control on me. I'm not gay, but my brainwashed state of mind makes me think I like sucking their cocks and licking their assholes." He spits out another laugh, mumbling, "What a loser!" I shout, "It's totally not fair what they're doing to me! None of this has anything to do with the real me. And, it's not funny!" Then I calm myself, and add, "Anyway, I've managed to make some good out of this shitty situation. Somehow I've been able to make a little chicken salad out of chicken shit, so ta speak. Due to my hard work and positive attitude I think I'm actually benefiting from it, and I hope you will too. You'll need to work at it though... like I have." Mikey giggles again, shaking his head... I'm not sure what his head shaking is a response to. In a playful manner, he goes, "Oh please, I'm getting a kick out of that brainwashing bull shit! Let me catch my breath!" He's enjoying this. He doesn't understand how serious it is, but he will. Mikey take a big breath, then asks, "And, um... do I got this right? You want me to believe that while it's true you like sucking their dicks and licking their assholes, you're not gay, right? Is that what I'm to believe?" I frown at him, "This isn't a joke, Mikey." He says, "The brainwashing thing is though; that's a joke!" Why argue with him, he'll find out for himself soon enough.

We get out of the car; I'm still a little pissed off at his attitude, but holding it together even though Mikey's can't stop that annoying giggling. He's still interested in hearing the lurid details too. "What do their assholes taste like? Get any ass-hairs on your tongue?" As we walk down the block towards Leo's I ignore his probing for details, and, in a monotone voice, tell him the rest, including: Me having my neck in the colonial stocks for hours, being led around like a dog with my nuts tied down, being caned and blubbering like a baby, wearing girl's silk panties twenty-four/seven, being tied over a PVC pipe and paddled, and having a dildo with a doggie tail hanging from it screwed up my asshole. I add, "Mikey, there no doubt they'll be sticking their dicks up my ass too, but it won't kill me... I can survive until September and you can too." As we're approaching the barbershop Mikey blurts out laughing again and I have a hard time holding my temper, but I do because I need him to come to work with me. God only knows what Brett will do to me if Mikey isn't at work Monday morning. He says, "Sorry for laughing, but like you said, 'it won't kill ya' and it's just funny thinking of you in all those painful and embarrassing situations. Ya know, I love you as my brother and all that, but you are a tad pretentious and self-centered, and you use to sorta feel you were better than guys from poor families; you told me that last summer, remember? And now this bizarre situation you've got yourself. Ha ha! It does appear to have taken you down a peg or two, I can see that." I'm staring at Mikey wondering, Who is this boy, and where's my real brother?" He sees my incredulous expression, and says, "No really... don't take it wrong. You're an okay brother; you've occasionally tried helping me with stuff, but let's be honest, I've never been number one on your priority list. I'm not complaining, but you've royally ignored me so often in the past it's not even funny, that's all I'm saying." Well, what the fucks he think I'm going to do? Be his around-the-clock companion or mentor? I had a busy schedule; an active social life and all that goes with it. Then dad has to up and die, leaving us inconveniently poor! But the point is, why would I be spending all my time with Mikey anyway, fer chrissakes? He's only a kid, and there was a lot of fun shit going on in my life back then! Now, forget about it! My life sucks now.

Continuing to keep my temper under control, biting my tongue, I do an exaggerated shrug at his laughter and his rude comments, and continue to refrain from arguing with him... I'm not going to get into a name calling contest. Instead of correcting him, I act like the big brother and squeeze his shoulder letting him know everything is okay and that I'm overlooking his childish rudeness. Anyway, even if what he said was true, I'm not like that now, so there's some more examples of Brett correcting my behavior for the better. Plus, as I've told myself a number of times in the past hour, what's the sense of refuting Mikey's wrong assumptions, that poor boy's going to be in the shit soon enough... in it up to his eyeballs and he'll find out for himself that I'm right. Adopting a condescending tone, I say, "I'm sorry if I didn't live up to your expectations of a big brother, I didn't realize I was being so self-centered and all that other stuff you inferred, but like I said before, I think Junior and Brett's harsh discipline, while often painful, has unexpected positive consequences, like making me be less self-centered, for example. So I'm improving as a person and you'll find it works for you too, and that holds true whether it's Brett or me who's doing your training." Mikey takes a turn at shrugging his shoulders, then says, "Me? Training? What's it have to do with me? Brett fucked around with me something awful this morning, fucked my hair up and my brain. I was completely dominated by him, I admit that, but he's not interested in me being another you, another boy-toy. When he was mocking my long hair by combing it over my face he talked to me rationally explaining his behavior. It was intended to make sure I knew who was the boss; make sure I knew he's the alpha dog and that I need to be submissive to him... and believe me, I got the message. He said for me to work as his flunky a couple days a week and he'd train me in different ways of showing dominance so I can assist him with something, which I'm a little confused about. Something about it'll be a more effective way of accomplishing what you wanted to accomplish getting me to toughen-up, or whatever it is you had in mind. He has no intentions of doing the stuff he does to older kids like you, to me. I'm his age." Raising my eyebrows and letting out a lot of air, I'm thinking, "Poor delusional Mikey!" but say nothing. He goes on to tell me that when I was in Rite Aid buying the scissors Brett told him, 'You stay very docile for me when Brian gets back. I'm going to do something to you that won't hurt you, but it will let you know that I'm capable of fucking you up in a serious way if you're not loyal to me!" and then when you got back he did the butchered haircut which freaked Mikey out. We were at the barber shop by now so I didn't get to respond to that, but a chill ran up my back thinking about the casually and heartless way Brett fucked up Mikey's hair... scary.

Inside the barbershop, Leo remembers me, "Ah, one of Junior's boys, eh? But I just gave you a haircut the other day." I go, "Yeah, ya did, but I'll be in next Friday for another one anyway, I'm gonna be getting it cut weekly from now on to impress my boss... your nephew." I take off Mikey's hat for him, and Leo gasps at the condition of Mikey's hair, mumbling,"Jesus!" I go, "Yeah, my brother's the one who needs a haircut. He just got initiated onto his high school junior varsity football team at summer camp today. Buzz the stubble, okay?" I did not want to mention Brett... why complicate things. Five minutes later we're walking out with Mikey carrying his Goodwill, second-hand hat and rubbing his sandpaper head, saying, "It feels so awesome, so cool! I've been trying to work up the courage to do this for months. I wanna get an earring too." I say, "Will you take this more seriously! Fuck the earring!" He keeps rubbing his head and looking in store windows at his reflection. He mumbles, "Guess Brett actually did me a favor." I'm thinking, "Oh man, is Brett's ever going to have fun with naive Mikey!"

I bought a six pack of Bud and we sat out on our apartment's little balcony and smoked cigarettes while I drank the beer and Mikey ate a bag of Swedish fish. At first we exclusively discussed what happened behind the Goodwill building where Brett basically reduced both of us to submissive nerds. Mikey said he was scared, but when it was over and he thought back on it in the car he felt an erection coming on. I go, "You see?! He does that; just like I told ya! It's some kind of brainwashing." Mikey waves his hand at me, and contradicts, "Nah, it's got nothing to do with brainwashing. I feel my little dick getting hard when my friend ties me up and does stuff to me. It turns him and me on sexually... and apparently it turns you on too." I disagreed of course, and we argued about Mikey's insistence my brainwashing theory is nothing more than a stupid rationalization. No matter that I'm the college student who knows much more about things than he does, or that I've outlined obvious reasons supporting the theory that there's some sort of brainwashing going on, he still refuses to accept it. The number one point of evidence for brainwashing is the fact I've never had urges or got turned on by anything like this before. I don't mention Frank Burns for the simple reason Mikey would just get confused and wouldn't be able to see that this is nothing like that. He laughs at my assertion that I'm not gay, bi or a masochist and I feel like slapping him, but hold back. He reiterates, "It's simple, I get a hard-on because that BDSM stuff is a turn-on for me; that's why my friend and I do it. As for you, it's obvious... you're at least bisexual because you like sucking cock. You want to suck mine? I'll let ya, if you give me ten dollars." I snap my reply back to him, "Don't be ridiculous!" and he chuckles some more, then says, "Okay, you can do it for five dollars, never mind the ten." I glare at him, and he says, "I'm just teasing you. And seriously, just because you get sexually excited by BDSM, and you're bi, doesn't mean you're a bad person! Christ, don't you know anything?" He goes to the bathroom leaving me fuming and fantasizing me doing some training on my brother.

Calming down, getting over him talking to me that way... I'm guessing it's due to all the stress he went through with Brett. And, I gotta admit I'm kinda liking some aspects of this new Mikey. I wonder if he's serious about me sucking his dick? What am I saying? He needs discipline for sure, and now that I see this slightly tougher side to him it makes me think he'll be able to handle the discipline much better than I'd earlier expected him to. And that means I won't have a guilty conscience after I paddle his ass raw. I like that thought, hmmm... wonder how long he's been like this? Of course, he wasn't so brash when Brett got ahold of him so he still can go back into his timid shell when he needs to. Not that I want to do anything so drastic, punishment-wise, that'll force him to stay in that shell permanently, but I am going to slap that brashness out of him and I'll probably paddle him until he's retreated a little bit into his safe haven shell, but then I'll bring him slowly back out using some tenderness like Brett does so effectively with me. God! I got the hardest boner thinking about doing this for Mikey! I'm adjusting it as he fills me in on other things Brett told him behind the Goodwill building.

Brett returns from his piss and tells me what Brett said to him when I was running for his coffee and the corn muffin. Brett supposedly reassured Mikey that working as a gofer would be cool. He'd intimidated and humiliated Mikey, but assured him that wouldn't happen on the job, so then the idea seemed okay to Mikey... a way to make some money anyway. During our conversations today I've gotten the message loud and clear that I'm not the hero to Mikey I thought I was. He's laughed out loud a couple of times when I'm describing the way Brett treated me; Mikey should have sympathized with me. He's also way too curious about all the things Brett makes me do, still bothering me about the details.

He seems to be reveling in my distress; laughing at my misery, which is going on my list of disses. The more beer I drink, the more lurid my details of mistreatment. I exaggerate hoping to get some admiration for the way I endure it all, but my brother didn't seem impressed. When he wasn't chuckling, he was shaking his head as if my reaction to Brett's mistreatment was somehow lacking or outright wrong. Well, let's see how well he does! He didn't do too good behind Goodwill; crying for chrissakes! I never cried. Well, maybe a little when I was in the stocks, and that time I got caned, and then that really bad paddling, but come on... who wouldn't cry?

After a while Mikey switched from being curious about my mistreatment to being curious about which of Brett's training methods I intended using on him. Being a little drunk, I go into probably more detail than I needed to about the way I'll be disciplining him and as I describing his potential punishments the more and more it becomes kind of turn-on for me. Okay, I admit that it feels good visualizing doing some of those things to Mikey, but more importantly, Mikey will be receiving benefits from the discipline. Mostly, I'm thinking there'll be less giggling and laughing on his part once I've repeated some of what Brett does to me on him. To be honest, I thought I'd come out looking like a martyr in all this, but Mikey apparently isn't seeing it that way. The last couple of years I admit I haven't spent much time being a big brother, but being away at college has a lot to do with that, ya know? Whatever, that's history. Anyway, I may not need to do much disciplining of Mikey myself... not once Brett gets his hands on him. Of course, I can't see myself doing no disciplining of him at all! I'll fulfill my brotherly responsibilities and do a little extra discipline on him here at the house... you know, to help push his training along.

We would have stayed on the balcony talking longer, but he got a phone call and is still on his cell phone with whoever called him. I wonder if it's the guy he screws around with doing the BDSM. That still might be the biggest surprise of my life... I never would have thought Mikey capable of it. Of course, maybe I'm remembering Mikey as he was three or four years ago. And, where the fuck did I get the idea Mikey looked up to me like his hero or idol or something? Humph! Fuck if I know! Anyway, I've got more pressing things on my mind; for instance, I'm on my last beer, should I get some more? And, ya know what, I gotta jerk-off again too. All this talk about putting some discipline on Mikey's ass has got me horned-up. I'll sneak into the bathroom while he's on his cell phone. God, I've never jerked-off this much in my life! It started after I got shanghaied into Junior and Brett's so-called playtimes... I feel the need to jerk-off now; two, three, four times a day, all with great climaxes. It's been awesome in that regard.

The jerk-off was a huge success and calmed me down. After Mikey's phone call we gave the discipline discussion a rest and watched the Red Sox without much conversation; each with his own private thoughts. Mine were pretty much split between Brett's dominate manner and me doling-out discipline to Mikey... both topics got me boned-up with really good hard boners. I want desperately to whack-off again but with Mikey right here he'd know what I was doing, so it's a no go. When mom came home from work she freaked-out seeing Mikey's nearly shaved head but was thrilled he's gotten a job and that we'd be working together. She overlooked my tipsy condition, assuming it was a celebration of Mikey's job. The rest of Saturday and all day Sunday Mikey and I huddled together wondering what to expect on Monday; both of us suggesting different scenarios of how we expected it to go. I made mine kind of tough so Mikey wouldn't be taken by surprise. He mostly maintained that he wouldn't be getting 'trained' at all; not in the manner Brett is training me. There's no way he's going to avoid it though, so he's destined to be disappointed. Then it was Monday morning.

Being the oldest I naturally claim first dibs on the bathroom, but Mikey's moody again and pitches a fit. He goes, "Why should you get it first? I've been in this apartment from the beginning... you were away at your big deal Ivy League college. We'll take turns." Oh man, where's he get the balls? I go, "Ah, let's talk..." but instead, I quickly twist his arm behind his back, pushing it up. He's like, "Oww!" I get my other arm around his neck and pull him against me, his arm is pushed up high enough now that the pain prevents him from struggling. Saturday Mikey was on board with the discipline stuff and now, first thing this morning, he gives me some back talk? What the fuck? Is he testing me? Well okay, there's no time like the present to get started. He's gotta learn sooner or later! The back of his head bumps my nose and I'm thinking how pleasant he smells and then remember being belted together, face to face last Saturday, and he smelled good then too. Moving my head to get my lips near his ear, the hair stubble scratchy on my cheek, I say, "You might as well realize that Brett and I are going to be putting you through the ringer and that mouthing-off to either of us isn't allowed; I must discipline you for your own good." He struggles a little, then mutters, "Don't do me any favors, alright?" I talk calmly to him, "Look Mikey, you're my brother and I love you. I want to help you so I'm advising you to cooperate. You said you were okay with this... and, hell, I go through worse than this three times a week myself, so it's not just you. I already told ya that. Now, will you cooperate with your discipline or do I need to do it the hard way?" I feel his body going limp, he goes, "Okay, what do you have in mind." Letting go of him, then grabbing an old tie from my closet, I say, "Come into the bathroom with me." He rolls his eyes but follows, and when we're both inside I lock the door. He makes a face like, "this is stupid!"

Ignoring the attitude, I turn on the noisy exhaust fan, then the radio, telling my brother, "We don't want mom hearing us. In the future we'll do this kind of thing when she's at work. I wanted to prepare you a little for dealing with the things Brett will throw at you after work today anyway, and since you just dissed me, we'll get into the program right now. Turn around." He blows out some air, still acting like this is sooo stupid. He turns, saying, in an exasperated manner, "I already told ya, he's not gonna do any of that shit to me. You're the only one." Now I'm the one rolling my eyes, I mumble, "You'll find out. I'm tying your hands together behind your back," Mikey goes, "Well okay, I like that part, bro." I admonish, "This isn't fun and games like with your friend!" To prove it, I pull down his PJ bottom, and he goes, "Hey, what the fuck?" "Step out of them, get used to doing things naked." I stare at his dick, it looks just like mine except my pubes are shaved, which gives me an idea. I say, "First thing I gotta do is get rid of your pubes; Brett will be pissed if I don't." Mikey turns his back on me then, and I slap his ass, "Ow! No you don't... no touching my pubes!" I say, "Turn around," and I really smack his ass hard this time. It's pink where I slapped him and the flesh quivers on his buttocks. Jesus! What a cute ass, better than the one on my last girlfriend. Another loud "SLAP!" hits the same spot and Mikey goes, "OW! Goddammit! Stop that!" Spanking him is getting me excited, so I roughly pull him with me as I sit on the toilet seat lid and wrestle him across my lap. He's really squirming now so I push his tied wrist up his back a bit and the pain stops his squirming. This is kinda fun.

He turns his head to look at me, and says, "Okay, Brian, you've made your point... you're stronger than me, plus ya got my arms tied, but don't shave my pubes... that's too fucking gay!" The hamper is next to the toilet, I reach in and fish around for some socks, coming up with a pair of mom's pantyhose instead. Pulling Mikey's head back I manage to get the crotch of the pantyhose inside his mouth and then it's just a matter of shoving one of the pantyhose legs in faster than he can spit it out. He's going, "Mhhhhphh," while trying to bite my finger, but soon he can't even close his teeth together because there's so much nylon in his mouth. Winding the other leg around his head and tucking in the end effectively prevents him from spitting the gag out. Then, let me tell ya, it was a sexy feeling. With my cock firming up I take a deep breath, then rub all over his awesome ass, then spank him enthusiastically... the flesh on his buttocks is quivering and every slap leaves a hand print of white in his rosy red ass. He's squirming mightily on my lap and it's an awesome experience for me; my boner feels as hard and long as a cop's nightstick. Mikey's constant flouncing on it as it lies flat against my belly stimulates it and soon precum's wetting through my boxer shorts. Okay, I got carried away, I admit it, but I had no idea what a rush it would be to dominate him like this. It was difficult, but I made myself stop. Then, breathing hard, I waited until my heartbeat slowed down before telling him to keep his mouth shut as I'm taking the gag out. Pulling out the soggy material from his mouth, I find a docile boy who has regressed back to the whiny, nerdy Mikey of old. He'd cried during the spanking and now he's quietly whining, "That hurt! I've never been spanked like that by anyone!" I said, "If you don't shut the fuck up, I'll stick this goddamn gag back in and spank you some more. He goes, "Nah, no ,no... I'll be good."

I stayed rough with him because I've learned from Brett ya don't show mercy for fear it'll be misinterpreted as weakness. Rustling him up on his feet, I give him another hard smack on his ass, he sputters, "Oww! Please!". I turn him around, saying, "I said to keep quiet or the gag goes back in!" Tears running down his face, he nods his head compliantly. This whole thing has me so turned-on it's sick. I can't stop myself, I smack his face again, saying, "Stand at attention!" He stands tall, his hands still tied together behind him. There's mucus running out of his nose, tears still running down his cheeks as well, but only quiet sniffling. My dick's poking out the front of my boxer underwear, bumping into his belly when I get too close. I need to jerk-off so badly it's painful. Adjusting my boner to the side, right in front of Mikey, I stare at him almost feeling contempt and enjoy the feeling of power. Then, coming to my senses, I remember Brett and Junior allow some compassion and grab a washcloth to dampen and wipe Mikey's face of the tears and mucus... then dry his face. A few lingering tears, but mostly just some little boy sniffles now; his eyes downcast and his body language indicating total submission to me. Wow, does discipline work wonders! And what a rush... dominating another boy like this is a wicked turn-on! I try Brett's trick of showing tenderness by hugging Mikey, and on cue he leans right into the hug and his body sort of blends with mine, the side of his face against my shoulder, with him muttering, "Thanks, Brian. This is nice." Hell, I know how he feels... a hug is much better than a spanking. After the hug, he's looking at me like he wants to ask something, but isn't sure if he's allowed to. I go, "What is it?" and he quickly and quietly asks, "Why did you do spank me so hard, Brian? You don't need to do that, I'm going to cooperate with you, okay?" He said it in a scared whiny voice while standing stiffly at attention. I'll take that as a sign that I've pretty much gotten control of him already. Best to keep the hard-ass act going though so I give him a little slap across his face, and say, "Don't tell me what I need to do, you just do what you're told." He mumbles, "Okay, I'm sorry. I'll be good, I promise." Nodding my head and massaging my boner, I breathlessly say, "Good! Wait here then, I'll get a spray to eliminate the stinging on your ass." He's like, "Oh, yeah... Thanks." I leave him standing at attention in the middle of the bathroom wearing only the top to his PJs, his hands tied behind him, and his limp dick looking kind of cool. In the bedroom I give brief consideration to jerking off into a sock, but it's getting late so I'll just have to put up with blue balls.

Quickly returning with the pain relief spray, I use it on his ass. It's the same bottle I bought after getting caned on Friday and it works great on Mikey's ass too, he quietly says, "Thanks, that feel good." Putting the spray away, I lay a towel on the floor, and say, "Stand on the towel and spread your legs, I'm shaving your pubes now." He starts to say something and I swing my arm around and smack his face again, saying, "Shhhh, no arguing! Just do what I told ya!" He whispers, "Please don't smack me," as he's spreading his legs. Just to be a ballbuster, I say, "Spread 'em wider and push your crotch out towards me." I'm looking right in his eyes when I say it; he averts his eyes downward again, and does exactly what he's told. Then I keep closing the scissors on his pubic hairs until I've got most of them laying on the towel. Next, after wetting the area, I use my dad's shaving cream and razor to shave him as smooth as the day he was born and while doing it my hard, hard cock got harder! Slowly letting out a long exhale and again trying to calm down, I say, "This is only for the summer, Mikey... how do you like the look?" He actually does half a smile, and goes, "It makes my little dick look bigger." Irritated, I say, "You have a normal size dick, just like mine. It's not little!" He says, "Is so!" I give him a stern look and raise my hand as if to smack him, he flinches, and says, "Sorry, sorry...". Okay, this discipline is working miracles.

"Turn around and I'll untie your hands." He does, and as I untie his hands, I scold him, "We'll be late for work if we don't hurry, and it's all because you made this discipline take three times longer than it had to. For that you'll be disciplined tonight after playtime with Brett and Junior; you're going to be hurting by bedtime." His shoulders slumped, but no smart-ass reply. I add, "We'll take a quick shower together to make up for the lost time." Mikey's like, "Wha...? Are ya kidding me," he said it more like a quiet whine than a complaint. Yes, it looks like I've really broken his spirt already! That wasn't hard to do and tonight back here in the apartment I'll reinforce my dominance over him. Hell, now I'm thinking, "Why not make this be a 24/7 kind of thing, at least for the rest of the summer!" Controlling Mikey just might be addictive... this rocks! As for showering together: ever since Saturday morning when Brett made Mikey and I hug each other and press our bodies together, I've wanted to have more contact... brotherly contact. You know, the way so many brothers are close. Putting him across my lap and spanking his cute ass was one thing, and me hugging him a little while ago was another, but taking a shower with him seems so cool and controlling... and, well, sexy too. Maintaining control over him, I snap, "Get your PJ top off! And clean up this pubic hair towel!" He pulls off his PJ top and puts the towel in the hamper, pouting now. I don't let up, "Get the shower running, and I want the water hot!"

Dropping my boxer shorts and kicking them towards the laundry hamper I can't help but notice the big wet precum spot on the front of them, and grin to myself, "This is so hot it's sick!!!". I'm feeling quite comfortable standing here naked with Mikey, my boner's listing away from my groin looking sexy so I brazenly stroke it a few times right in front of my brother, who refuses to look. Even though Mikey and I have never been naked together, all the training Brett's done on me while I'm naked allows me to be so blase about it... hell, I'm used to it. Mikey will get used to it too. He turns the water on and adjusts the hot/cold knobs to get the water a reasonably hot temperature as he's quietly saying, "I'm cooperating, you really don't need to yell at me, Brian." I'm thinking, "Ah ha! More whining. Good!" I grab his shoulders and turn him around, his eyes automatically going downward again. He can't miss my junk now... it's right before his eyes. This is the first time he's ever seen my dick and balls. He goes, "Hey, you got a little dick too. Hee hee. A little hard one!" Okay, it's good to see he can still joke around after what we've been through for the last twenty minutes, and I'm glad to lighten the mood up a bit myself, so... in a joking manner, I go, "It's not little... it's normal!" He says, "It's little." I want him to see that if he follows my orders, I'll be pleasant with him, so I say, "Mikey, I just want to say that you're doing okay this morning and I'm proud of you. You accepted the discipline pretty well. I'm going to tell Junior and Brett... maybe they'll go a little easier on you." Another hug which this time he fully participates in with both his arms wrapped around me, both of us naked; my boner squished between our bellies. Breaking off the hug, I say, "Look at this, Mikey," and I turn around to show him the result of my caning. "See were the raised welts were? Now they're just pink stripes, but I want you to look at these things and remember to avoid being caned at all cost! Do what you're told and no more back talk! Okay?" He nods his head staring at my ass, then, playing with himself unconsciously, he mumbles, "It don't look so bad." I shake my head, saying, "It was very bad! Go ahead now, get in the shower!" Following him in, I'm thinking, "I almost hope he gets a chance to see how it feels for himself."

In the shower, to be honest, I kinda maul him. My model of touching is the way Brett does all that inappropriate touching which displays dominance over his submissive victim; it's very effective. Groping and rubbing against Mikey's body much more than I need to, pretending it's all part of me washing him. Nothing to be done about my boner of course, it' now sticking right out from my belly sliding against Mikey's body all slippery with soap suds. During the washing I explain again how Brett's fucked up my subconscious and one of the results of that is a lot of boners. He looks at me, frowning, then says, "You're kidding with all that crap about Brett doing psychological stuff to your brain; right?" Hmmm, he's sounding less submissive already, but he'll find out about the mind control, submissive or not. I'm running out of energy for the hard-ass act so I don't argue with him, "I'll let you decide for yourself," is my only retort as I continue rubbing his body inappropriately. Mikey finally lets out a few confused, "Hey, what are you doing?" with my hands all over his recently shaved groin area, but there's still not any real force behind his complaint, so I just go, "Shhh! Quiet!" as I stroke his cock into a boner. Overdoing the fondling of Mikey is one more offshoot of the brainwashing... it's gotta be! I've never had a desire to touch him before I was programmed. After shampooing his sandpaper hair I have him quickly wash me. The boner I sprung way back during the spanking continues bobbing about, now it's dueling with Mikey's. He's lightened-up a little more by now and is chuckling again while pushing my wood out of the way washing me. Apparently he's got good recuperative skills, which he'll need.

Out of the shower we're hurrying around drying and then getting dressed. I never got back to the mall for new panties so I take the used pink ones from the hiding spot and make a point of putting them on in front of Mikey. He quietly goes, "I was hoping you were fucking joking around about the girl panties!!" I'd already explained how Brett's ordered me to wear these so he knows I'm not kidding and now I tell him I'm going to make him wear them too. He looks away with a pissed-off expression on his face, but doesn't talk back. Progress! After playtime I'll drive us to the mall for matching panties. We're finally on our way out the door when I remember I need to bring a toothpaste, toothbrush and mouthwash for my locker to use after work each day; master's orders. Back to my bedroom for those items, then out to the car and now I need to speed in order to get us to work on time. We make it with five minutes to spare. Quick introductions of Mikey to the guys in the gym. Mikey's acting his old shy wimpy self again. New situations used to be difficult for him and this one appears to be giving him some trouble as well. I know my harsh spanking and face slapping this morning is responsible for his retreat back to the nerdy Mikey, but... good! It's about time he recognizes he's in for a tough time... it'll benefit him in the end.

As the seven a.m. bell tones, excitement buzzes in the pit of my stomach. Here comes Brett, my balls feel tight and my dick chubs-up a little at the thought of him doing to Mikey what he's done to me. Mikey stands at attention next to me as Brett does a short introduction of him, and then Mikey's told to stand next to Brett. He explains that Mikey's an intern who hopes to qualify for summer work next year. "He'll be working strictly for me, but won't be giving orders to you. He's my gofer," and he looks at Mikey, saying, "Nice haircut, by the way." Mikey actually grins back nervously at him and I can see he'll quickly be drawn into Brett's strong personality. Then back to us guys, Brett says, "He's my gofer, not yours... so don't any of you send him fetching for anything." At that Mikey smiles again looking cute, and it has me wondering why I never noticed him in that way before. After the smile he's sort of beaming like he's proud to be Brett's gofer. Then we did the exercises. Mikey does his next to Brett, and he did some of them okay too, but he needs work on others. What the hell, I'll help him with them tonight before I discipline him for his bad behavior this morning. Work begins then and Junior takes us workers to the dock for a long day of unloading and carting of materials to the proper departments. Mikey went with Brett and the next time I saw him was at lunch, but he was at Junior and Brett's table and I never got to talk to him. He looked sweaty so he's been doing something strenuous. Brett appeared a few times in the warehouse without Mikey, but I don't dare question him about anything. Then the final bell and my heart picked-up a beat. Here comes playtime!

As the guys changed into their regular street clothes and drifted out of the locker room for home, I purposely poked along pretending to get dressed, waiting for them to all leave. When the last one is out, I lock the door and get undressed again. This is going to be very humiliating having Mikey here, but if he's in the same boat as me it actually might work out better for me. Naked, I put my electric shock collar on and get ready to drop to all fours when Brett comes in, followed closely by Mikey who suppresses a smirk seeing me naked with a dog collar on. I blush, but remember to look attentively at my master. Brett says, "Attention! God dammit! I shouldn't need to tell you that! When I walk in the fucking room you automatically get in the attention position." I snap to attention, my dick firming up at Brett's dominance. I'm starting to love it. He says, "Your brother's been practicing exercises today and I need to say he's better than you are at them already so he'll help you improve your technique at home this evening. This last hour I've been teaching him a few things regarding your training. Let me make this perfectly clear: Your brother will be assisting me during playtime. Junior's recruited a high school senior boy-toy and he'll be spending most of his time training him in another part of the building. Since you're my first trainee, I'll take advantage of your little brother here to use as my assistant. As I've already mentioned, I'll also have homework for you starting tonight, which Mikey will oversee and grade you on. Do you totally understand me?" I force myself to mumble, "Yes, Master."

This is totally fucking shocking!! I can not believe my fucking ears!! Mikey's going to be assisting in my training... and they'll be none for him. The expression on my face, and my mumbling, apparently annoyed Brett and he swung his arm from left field and smacked me across the face, shouting, "Pay attention! Look me in the eyes and listen to me when I'm talking to you!" Mikey's eyes are bright and shiny as he strains to keep a straight face. Brett lectures me, "You're to follow your brother's orders here and at home, the same way you follow mine. Do you understand that?" Now that the reality of the matter is confirmed in my head, I'm too stunned to answer so I just stare with my mouth open and Brett swings around and catches me with as hard a slap as I've ever received... stars in front of my eyes, tears roll down my cheek. Then another slap and I somehow manage to say, "Yes, master!" Brett yells, "Let me hear you then!" and I yell, "YES, MASTER!!" Mikey giggles, then mutters, "Master... hee, hee.". That's the same giggle I intended smacking out of him with discipline tonight. This sucks far beyond anything that's ever sucked in my life!!! Brett says, "Mikey will report to me when you disobey him and the punishment for the first infraction will be a good hard paddling, from then on each infraction will get you five canes across your bare ass." I'm looking alert now, "I understand, Master!" He says, "Good. Your brother's been practicing tying a bag of marbles simulating your scrotum, now he'll try tying your nuts down low and after that, your hind legs up tight. I'll be grading him on it so cooperate as fully as you do with me. When he finishes with you, you get on all fours and skedaddle your ass out to the gym for my inspection."

I can't believe my fucking ears. Brett checks my locker to be sure I remembered to bring the toothbrush and all that other stuff, then asks where my girlie underpants are and I show him they're in the pocket of my shorts. "Mikey will be checking that you have them on at home too. Any time you're not here be prepared for him to inform you he's doing a spot inspection. When he says that, you'll immediately get at attention." Turning, Brett says to Mikey, "You know where everything is so get it, and then get this dog's balls tied down tight. You can then help me put him through his paces after that." I'm crushed! There is no fucking justice in the world. As Brett's leaving, Mikey's gets the string and scissors from a locker and I slump down, totally defeated; when I think it can't get worse, it gets worse. Everything I'd said to Mikey or speculated about giving him discipline is now reversed. Sitting on the bench confused and without a clue what can be done about this, I hear Mikey say, "Attention!" and I look around to see who he's talking to and of course it's me, but it's so out of the realm of normalcy for him to be bossing me around, I hold up a hand, like, "Wait a fucking second!" and then say, "Give me a minute to figure out what's going on here. Okay?" Mikey turns abruptly and leaves the locker room only to return thirty seconds later following Brett who comes storming in, screaming, "What the fuck's wrong with you, Mr. Brown University? Your brother gave you an order!" Brett scares the shit out of me with his violent entrance, spit's flying from his mouth as he's yelling, "Mikey is my official represenative, when he tells you something it's coming from me! Goddammit, you're stupid!" and he smacks my face twice. I'm at attention of course, but shaky too; my eyes blinking at the stinging slaps and my heart pounding, afraid of the canning. Brett turns to Mikey, and orders, "Get the paddle!" then to me, "Lean over, hands on the bench!" I immediately get in position to be paddled... paddled in front of my little brother. Naked, my dick and balls hanging down, sweat streams off my forehead as my face blushes dark red and feels very hot... my buttock's twitching, expecting the worst. It was worse than that! Mikey didn't watch me get paddled, he did the paddling.

Brett goes, "Like this, Mikey. Swing your arm three hundred sixty degrees catching his ass cheek on the way up so the rough dimples on the paddle drag the skin upward, stretching and increasing the sting." Then Brett swings his arm around and catches me on the upper thigh, I scream in pain which is ignored by both boys. Brett ask Mikey, "You wanna try it?" and Mikey goes, "Sure, like this?" and he swings around and catches my ass cheek on the upswing causing a burning stinging; it was like fire, but not as bad as Brett's hit at the back of my thigh. Brett says, "Good. Paddle him as he counts out the strokes, then tie his nuts down extra tight, get those hind legs tied, and you bring him out by his shock leash. Here's how that works, by the way," and I'm immediately yelping with my feet moving in place on the floor as the electric shock initially takes me by surprise, then the lingering pain in my neck and shoulders causes an involuntary body shudder. Brett says, "You try it." and Mikey takes the control and holds the button down causing way too much electric current to travel through my body and I wind-up flat on my back flopping around on the floor, my arms and legs jerking uncontrollably. I looked like a fish off the fisherman's hook flopping around at the bottom of the boat. I slowly stop moving and as the ringing in my ears clears up all I can hear is Bret and Mikey laughing their balls off. Life sucks!

Brett catches his breath enough to say, "Ya just tap the button, don't hold it down! Damn, that was funny! I gotta go tell Junior." He leaves, and Mikey says to me, "Let's go, dawg... attention!" I'm still shaky as hell, but scramble up and get at attention, feeling dizzy from the shock. I glance at Brett who'd waited at the door making sure I obey my brother. Mikey says, "Assume the position and call out the number of each stroke!" I lean down to support myself holding onto the bench, my ass in the air. Then Smack! and I yell, "Ow! One!" He gave me ten paddles, five more than Brett usually gives me for misconduct. By the tenth one I was bawling like Mikey was doing earlier this morning. It's not that we cry like a six year old, more like tears and mucus and whimpering. Mikey didn't show me the kindness I showed him this morning and kept me standing at attention with a wickedly stinging ass, as he smugly says, "Spread your legs, and push your crotch out!" Just like I'd made him do this morning when I shaved his pubes. I complied immediately and he began tying my nuts down further and tighter than I did it myself after the caning. Both nuts are soon throbbing with pain. Mikey says, "Because you shaved my pubes and I find out from Brett I didn't need to have them shaved, you're going to get an extra string below the fifth one," and he painfully squeezes one more lower layer of string around my scrotum squeezing my nuts even further down in their sack. As he's circling that sixth loop of string I thought of begging him not to do it, but then thought better of it for fear he might tell Brett. It's a white hot pain in my balls and I almost black-out from it, but amazingly, like the previous tie-downs it soon reduces to a barely bearable dull ache rather than throbbing toothache-like pain. The bottom of my scrotum is now lower that the head of my dick as it gets stretched with each tying of my nuts.

"On your back! What's that position called? I forget what Brett called it." I say, "Paws up, mas... er, Mikey." I almost called him master. Getting on my back with my arms and legs up, Mikey explains that Brett thought it'd be easier tying my hind legs up in this position. He ties both my ankles to the back of each of my thighs, up near my ass. The leather strips were just as tight as when Brett does it. Mikey made annoying squeaky sounds as he was doing the tying; I know damn well he's making those noises to keep from laughing out loud. It's painful at first, my tendons and muscles take a while before stretching to accommodate this unnatural leg position. "Okay, let me see you balance on your new hind legs. Up boy!" I struggle to get up on my knees, then waves my arms in a circle getting balanced. It's really painful on my knees because they're stretched tightly and I'm standing or walking on the center of them, not the bottom of them like you'd do crawling. Mikey goes, "Get in the paws up position. We're going to do this again." He worked me for five minutes and the sweat was running when he said, "Okay, we'll work on this at home later tonight. I don't like the arms moving. Get on all fours." I'm already used to taking orders from my brother. It puts me in sort of a trance. Mikey then pulls what looks like a large metal sinker used in fishing, out of a tin container. There's a hook at the top of it. He reaches under me and forces the hook past the bottom string around my nuts, explaining, "Brett wants me to start your real scrotum-stretching process. This is only a quarter pound weight to start with... shouldn't be too hard to take." The weight swung from below my scrotum pulling on it painfully. "Let's go, quickly!" Mikey orders, as he pulls on my leash. He never even used the pain spray on my ass, but I don't dare say anything! Yanking on my leash he leads me into the gym with my nuts feeling like a dead rock swinging beneath me. "Pick-up the pace," Mikey orders, as he trots me out towards Brett, my knees thumping off the hardwood floor of the gym. Brett calls out, "Take him for a run around the gym, Mikey. Then get him over here for my inspection."

to be continued

Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com