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The Clearing in the Woods.
by Skorpio
Part Three: Out with the Truth
"You've got to be kidding me," said Frank.
Everyone was nonplussed by Sonny's revelation, but probably Frank was stunned the most. He and Sonny had been friends for years. They had wrestled on the varsity team senior year. This did not make sense. It had to be a joke. Sonny liked girls, or so Frank always assumed. Mike and Lebron shrugged as if this came as no big surprise, but Omar owned the smug expression of one whose suspicions were confirmed.
"It's true," said Buddy. "My own brother is a cocksucker. In fact, he's been smoking my sausage for almost a year now. Isn't that right, Sonny-boy?"
The older redhead sat on a large fallen tree trunk, leaning forward so that his head rested on his knees, incapable of looking his friends in the eye. Without glancing up, Sonny grabbed another beer, and popped the tab, a man determined to get drunk. Buddy went on to explain how his fraternal relationship with Sonny had changed since he found out.
"My brother is messed up. I think he still likes girls, but when he drinks, something happens to him, alcohol turns him queer or something, and he gets super horny for cock. I only found out about a year ago when he got really smashed the weekend our folks were away. I never saw him so fucked up. He was staggering all over the place, breaking shit, I don't think he didn't even recognize me. When I tried putting him to bed, he pushed his face into my crotch and started begging for my cock. Next thing I knew, he managed to pull down my pants and wrap his lips around my shit."
"Sonny did that?" said Frank, still coming to terms with this mind-blowing eye-opener.
"I know, right?" said Buddy, shaking his tousled head with dismay. "I couldn't believe it, either. My own brother was actually sucking my cock. I was freaking out. Bad enough that's how I found out Sonny was a cocksucker. What was worse, I didn't stop him. It felt good. Sonny knew what he was doing, for sure. I've gotten bee-jays from girls, but Sonny was something else, dude. I mean, he didn't just want my cock in his mouth. He needed it. So I let him do his thing. It wasn't like we had sex. It was just a blowjob. Like jerking off except Sonny used his mouth to help me out. It was something a guy could get used to, but I was afraid to tell anyone. Figured I was the only guy who would let a cocksucker blow him. I didn't know what that made me. It didn't turn me gay, I know that."
"You're not gay," laughed Omar. "So what happened after he sucked your dick? You seem to have him under control.
"Well, the next day I asked Sonny if he remembered what he did," Buddy went on. "But he claimed to have blacked out after emptying the liquor cabinet. I had a feeling he was lying. He remembered what he did, but he was too ashamed to talk about it. So to get him back in the mood, I brought out a handle of Dewars Dad stashed in the garage, and got Sonny drunk all over again. I had a few shots myself in order to do what I was about to do."
"What did you do?" asked Frank.
"I asked Sonny if he wanted to suck my cock again. I told him it was cool with me if he wanted to do that. I teased him: you remember how good my big juicy cock felt in your mouth, don't you? I knew he wanted it. I could tell by crazed look on his face and his lips were quivering. Then, I pulled out my cock so he could get a good look at it, and I fucking swear, he started drooling like a dog at dinnertime. I was getting impatient, so instead of asking him if he wanted to blow me, I simply told him to do it: C'mon, cocksucker! Suck my cock like you did last night! Then, he gave me another round of excellent head, and you know what I learned from that? Asking Sonny to suck my cock was not gonna work. The cocksucker had to be bossed around like a bitch!
"That's when I realized that I was in control. Sonny does whatever I say. I'm the boss now. I'm in charge. I took pics of Sonny giving head to keep him in line, and got him trained so he doesn't need booze to turn into a cocksucker."
"So, basically, you're using Sonny like a slave," Omar pointed out. "That's good. You ready for this faggot?"
"Yeah, I'm ready." Buddy beckoned to Brock with a crooked finger while unbuckling his belt with the other hand. Pants slid to his ankles. The blue boxers clung snugly to an impressive banana-shaped bulge.
The naked cocksucker kneeled before the young redhead, jerking down the boxers, taking a moment to admire the semi-flaccid, bone-white prick dangling in his face, before parting his lips. It did not take long getting hard. Brock steadied himself by holding onto Buddy's milky thighs. He started off by lubricating the shaft with saliva, swirling his tongue, and built up speed as the flesh became engorged.
Once again, the cocksucker knew the amount of pressure and the tempo required, servicing Buddy exactly the way he liked. A warm, wet, tight mouth was good as a cunt if the cocksucker knows what he is doing, and Brock most certainly did. No one could have guessed this was merely his fifth time. Like guys with innate athletic reflexes, musical ability, or alacrity with the written word, Brock's skill was fellatio.
"Yeah, he's good," said Buddy. "Real good. Look, Sonny! This cocksucker is doing your job. Way better than you ever did. I think you need practice! Somebody stick a cock in my big brother's mouth. I think he feels left out."
"I can handle that," said Frank. "Sonny and I used to be best friends, but I had no idea he was a cocksucker. He must have been pervin' on me in the gym and locker room all those years. That's fucked up. He owes me a blowjob."
"Yeah, I think so, too," Buddy agreed. "Sonny, before you suck your friend's cock, take off your clothes and get naked."
"Do I have to?" Sonny mumbled.
"Do I need to repeat myself?" said Buddy, driving his cock into Brock's throat with a sudden thrust.
"No, sir," said Sonny, mindful of the terrible consequences if he disobeyed a direct command. Submission was a sexual thrill, and not just when he was drunk because Buddy brought that out of him. But it was devastating having this shameful secret exposed to friends and strangers. On the other hand, giving Frank a blowjob would be awkward, but whatever fears he had were overridden by his craving for cock. The one thing Sonny did not want to do was get naked, but he had no choice in the matter.
Sonny slowly unbuttoned his colorful Hawaiian shirt and peeled off the wifebeater beneath. He had a wiry wrestler's build, small flat nipples like pink pennies, and wisps of red hair under his arms, and biceps encircled with tribal ink. Off came his sneakers, followed by a deep sigh as he unbelted and dropped his trousers. All that remained was a cotton athletic supporter cupping his private parts.
"Sup with the jockstrap?" asked Omar, directing the question at Buddy rather than the former athlete.
"Since we share a room," said Buddy, "I make him wear it all the time. That way I don't have to see his junk, and it seems to make him horny. Makes him easier to control, I guess."
"That's the key," affirmed Omar. "Keep a faggot horny and he will do anything you want. And you're right about keeping his junk out of sight. I don't need to see that shit neither."
"He can keep the jock," decided Frank. "All I'm interested in is his mouth."
"Go on, Sonny," Buddy insisted. "Suck your friend's cock."
"Former friend," corrected Frank. "How am I gonna be friends with a cocksucker?"
"That's true," admitted Buddy. "Ever since I found out, it's been real embarrassing having him for a brother. I know that's not a reflection on me or my folks. He is what he is. At least he's not prowling the streets looking for dick like Cockroach. I keep Sonny busy doing my chores and homework, when he isn't sucking my cock, that is. Do you know he woke me up one morning with a blowjob, and he wasn't even drunk? I was fucking pissed. After he got me off, I made him stand in the corner in his underwear which gave him a boner, believe it or not. So I took a couple pics with his phone and threatened to text them to some high school girls if he didn't get in line. That straightened him out. You know what I mean."
"What a pussy."
"I figured out something else. Sonny woke me with that BJ on purpose because he wanted to piss me off. He wanted to get punished. He likes being bossed around. It's like he makes you treat him like shit. I feel kind of bad about it sometimes."
"You shouldn't," said Omar. "You're doin' the right thing. Look, I'm sorry about you losing your brother. Being related to a cocksucker is like having a death in the family. But at least you got a slave in return, you know?"
"Yeah, it really is like having a slave," Buddy admitted. He glanced down at his cock sliding in and out of Brock's mouth. "Lick my balls, bitch."
"Next time Sonny gets out of line, you should take a belt to his ass. Not being able to sit down for a week will make him think twice about fucking up."
"Yeah, that's a good idea."
"You don't have to wait until he fucks up either, you know what I'm saying?"
"I'm way ahead of you, bro," said the freckled youth with an impish smile. "He's gonna get the belt when we get home. I can't wait."
"Cool," said Omar. "You may have to gag him because he's gonna scream. Faggots can't deal with pain. Make every stroke count. When he begs you to stop, you're halfway there. Keep going, harder and harder, until he breaks down and cries, but make sure he's completely broken before you stop."
"Yeah, I can do that. Makes sense."
"Now this is the important part. After you break the faggot down, you can rebuild him. Tell him how much it pleases you when he is obedient. You don't like punishing him, but it's necessary, tell him he needs to accept that. Then let him know you love the way he sucks your cock, because that, my friend, is what a faggot wants to hear. He wants to please you with his mouth more than anything in the world. He sucks cock. That's his function. Getting drunk doesn't change who he is, it just brings out his true nature. He was born a cocksucker. He can't change. So let your big brother do what he does best. Give him a taste of dick for taking his punishment like a good faggot."
"You know a lot about this shit," said Buddy.
"Yeah, I've had some experience," admitted Omar. "I'll tell you about it some time. Mind if I give you some more advice?"
"Sure, go ahead!"
"Sonny is a loser. I don't know why your folks put up with him. Make him get a job. A janitor maybe. Garbage collector. Flipping burgers. Something menial with long hours and a lot of overtime. Make him give half his paycheck to your folks, and you keep the other half. When you get paid, let him suck your dick. Down the road when you get a place of your own, let your brother stay with you out of the kindness of your heart and no one will suspect a thing. You're just looking out for your loser of a brother who wouldn't make it without your help. That's the stone truth! He wants to be used."
"Yes-he-does!" said Buddy. "I don't even need to threaten him with exposure anymore. He might grumble sometimes, but he does what he's told because it turns him on when I tell him to do something. He's sick."
"You have no idea, my friend," said Omar. "There is nothing these perverts won't do. I used Cockroach for a urinal last night, pissed in his mouth, pissed all over him in fact. Sent him home smelling like a fucking toilet bowl."
"We should do that tonight before we split up, you know? All of us should piss on these cocksuckers. I wanna see the look on Sonny's face. What do you say?"
While Buddy and Omar were talking, Frank whipped out his cock, and Sonny fell into position. The hairy stud grunted with approval as he felt the cocksucker's warm, soft, wet lips, like a woman's labia, encircling his stiffening tool. Frank glared down at Sonny and met his former peer's pleading gaze. "There you go, Sonny-boy, you fucking faggot, yeah suck my dick, I know you want it," he ranted. "I know how Buddy feels about losing a brother. We were like brothers but not no more. At least Buddy got a slave out of it. Omar, what's Cockroach's story? You own that faggot?"
"Let's just say I found him," Omar shrugged. "You can have him if you want. He can be your faggot slave."
"Seriously?" exclaimed Frank. His thick, dark brows arched like caterpillars.
"Word is bond."
Omar and Frank sealed their deal with a fist bump. Brock knew his fate had been decided by two young men who saw him as nothing more than a convenience, a means to an end. He had no say in the matter. His life would never be the same again. How would this affect his job? What if his family, friends and neighbors found out? Brock choked on Buddy's cock, and had to catch his breath. The young redhead gave him a second before shoving his ivory pole back into the cocksucker's mouth.
"You better learn to control that gag reflex, faggot," snickered Buddy, with a thrust. "Sounds like you're gonna be sucking a whole lot of cock from now on."
"Tell you what," Omar suggested. "Cockroach should take you home with him so you know where he lives."
"I've got a better idea," replied Frank, scratching his flat, furry stomach. "I'm gonna crash at Cockroach's place tonight. Spend a few days so we can get to know each other. My dad wants me out of the house anyway, so I'll say I'm staying with a friend. This bitch better know how to cook."
"Dude, he's a faggot. Of course he knows how to cook. See, that's what I'm saying. He's good for more than just sucking dick. Not only can he cook, he can do laundry like a pro and clean up behind you. If you want, he can follow you around like a mobile ashtray or urinal. Very convenient. And you won't have to tell him to pay your bills or buy you shit because he will do that totally on his own. If a faggot wants to make you happy, why not let him? Doesn't make you any less of a man. In fact, it's just the opposite, because you're letting a queer be your slave."
"I've always wanted a slave," said Frank, but the inscrutable way Omar looked at him with unblinking eyes made Frank elaborate: "Not, you know, not like on a plantation or anything like that. Not that kind of slave. Like, um, like in ancient Rome, you know?"
"Cockroach is probably not gonna be your only faggot slave. There's a lot to choose from when you think you're ready to handle more. But there's one thing I want you to do for me, in exchange for giving you Cockroach as a starter fag."
"No problem," Frank readily agreed. "Name it."
"No black faggots. Leave them to me and my cousins. Call me if you run across one, but let us deal with it."
"You got it. Anyway, I would feel kind of funny owning a black faggot slave."
"Because it would be wrong," Omar averred flatly.
"Do you think all cocksuckers are like this?" Frank asked, ready to change the subject. "Cause it seems like there's a whole of faggots these days. They're on TV, getting married, playing football, always having parades, they're everywhere."
"They're not the kind of faggots we deal with. It's closet cases like Cockroach, the ones who betray their families, friends, and society by lurking among us, pretending to be straight. Like your old pal chowing down on your dick right now. But keep this shit on the down low. Don't go bragging to your squad every time you get your knob polished to perfection or the faggot buys you something nice, because people might ask questions you won't wanna answer. You're a Master now. Get your life together."
"Master Frank. I like the sound of that."
"You getting all this, Cockroach? You're gonna be Master Frank's slave," Omar proclaimed over stereophonic slurping. "See how everything works out when you let a Real Man be in charge? You got the Master you wanted all along. Heh-heh. I know you're gonna miss this black dick, but don't worry. I'm gonna check up on you, see how your owner is making out. You'll get a good taste of this again."
Omar turned back to Frank, the proud faggot owner: "If this piece of shit gives you any trouble, give me a holler. Me and my cousins will take care of it. We know a thing or two about dealing with faggots." The quarterback and center folded their muscular arms across their chests and nodded silently with grim, taut smiles.
The sun was westering in a blaze of golden light as Buddy and Frank ejaculated. Both grunted with satisfaction. The case of beer was depleted. No one wanted another blowjob. Getting hungry, everyone concurred it was time to break camp. There was a round of solidarity marked by handshakes, fist bumps, high fives, and back slaps, congratulating themselves on a good time and swearing not to breathe a word of it. After Omar exchanged phone numbers with Buddy and Frank, there was one last thing to do.
The six men stood in a circle around the naked fags squatting on the ground, and took out their cocks. Six streams of urine were aimed at the two gaping mouths. The faggots' eyes were clenched shut. Brock let his mouth fill up like a bowl and then he swallowed without reluctance. Knowing Frank was coming home with him was all the thirty-five year old cocksucker could think about. Sonny grimaced as piss filled his mouth, choking him, causing him to sputter, swallow, and gag, sickened by the acrid taste, the foul stench. It was more humiliating than anything he had experienced since coming out to his brother. More humiliating than having his secret exposed to a group of guys, some of them strangers. More than being rejected by his old pal Frank, more than being made to suck Frank's cock.
Buddy ordered the two stinking faggots to get dressed. Frank told Brock to gather all the empty cans and cigarette butts into a cardboard box.
"Get used to cleaning up my mess, faggot. I'm putting your faggot ass to work. I expect you to scrub the toilet after every time I use it, got it? Yeah, slave! This is going to work out. Be a good slave, and I might let you blow me before I go to bed. Oh, and I'll be sleeping in your bed from now on, so I hope you have a guestroom. Nah, you can sleep on the floor like an animal until I decide how things are gonna be. You look like you work out. You can get me membership at your gym, yeah, we can get that done tomorrow. You wanna do that for me, fag?"
Brock nodded contentedly. He was beginning to have an idea of what living with Frank would be like. Basically, he would be Frank's personal chef, chamber maid, and ATM, as well as his cocksucking whore. It was an arrangement Brock could live with even if it did take a while for him answering to his new name: Cockroach.
As for Sonny, he had no idea what was in store for him that night. He trotted behind Buddy, downwind because of his foul smell, glad the day was over, hoping Buddy did not feel like rehashing what had happened. After all, Sonny consoled himself, he did every Buddy told him. He even gave Frank a blowjob, which he wanted to do anyway, but he did it knowing it would cost him their friendship. Irrevocably. Maybe if Sonny had refused, shown some backbone, he could have won back a shred of Frank's respect. But that was unthinkable. Sonny had to obey his little brother. Buddy was the boss.
Omar and his two cousins lingered behind. One never knew when a cop might be parked behind the liquor store. Best to stagger their departure. A string of guys emerging drunkenly from the woods seemed like a bad idea. Omar, Mike, and Lebron were not actually drunk having consumed considerably less malt liquor than the others. All three were definitely high evidenced by eyes glittering like polished mirrors. Mike sparked another blunt and passed it to Lebron. Several minutes went by in silence. Their minds were in accord. It was a moment to reflect. They were as one. Finally, Mike spoke. His deep, rich voice projected strength, integrity, confidence. "I think that went well," he said. "I think so, too," said Lebron.
"What's next?" said Omar.
Said Mike: "There's a cocksucker who prowls the men's room in Brookside Park picnic grounds after dark. I shadowed him home, talked to his neighbors, got the scoop. Divorced, kids, cushy political appointment. Big family values type. No one suspects he sucks dick at night. After I break him in, I'm gonna introduce him to this cat I know, Monroe, who could really use a faggot."
"Does Monroe know you're a Hunter?" asked Omar.
"I told him everything. He's down with the whole mission statement. Wants to do his part. He was locked up for awhile. Had a white faggot for a cell bitch. Funny thing about that is the cellie was straight before he shared a cage with Monroe, know what I'm saying? My boy been used plenty fags when they crossed his path, but he never went looking. Until now. He's been reading some of the literature. Says he's ready. Wants to own a faggot slave.
Said Omar: "Sounds good. Let me know how it works out. I gotta get home. Ma Dukes got dinner on the stove, plus I've gotta Skype with this faggot later, some rich-bitch-preacher-piggy bank in Texas who wants to pay me to tell him what I honestly think about fags. Thirty minutes of no-holds-barred, verbal terror is gonna cost him a good grand. But I can double that by making him beg for more. It's like taking candy from a baby."
It was dusk. The air was thick, sullen with humidity, perfumed by honeysuckle. Cicadas were screaming for sex and lightning bugs were flickering with identical intent. Under the rising full moon, the empty clearing in the woods exerted an allure like a Venus flytrap waiting for anyone choosing to gather there to fall under its spell.
THE END