First off, thanks for taking the time to read my work. This is chapter two of my first Nifty story. I am a long time Nifty fan, mostly of authoritarian themed stories in high school/college settings.
The commandment is a work of fiction that revolves around a boy named Dean who just happens to be unlucky, but who is convinced that should he disobey anyone, very grave things will happen. As he enters high school he has to be more careful than ever before to ensure no one finds out his secret. Lets just say this is harder than it sounds.
I hope you enjoy my work, and if so, donate to Nifty to keep it alive and going strong. As I said above, all characters, events and ideas in this story and future chapters are 100% fiction. Elements of the story may be considered dangerous and it is not recommended you attempt anything you read in this work.
This story is a work in progress, so I am open for your feedback, ideas and suggestions at dsweenz71@gmail.com.
Thanks for reading!
+++
Chapter Two
Both Dean and Brody were let off with a warning since it was their first offense, and the first day, although they each got a call home from the principal. Dean's dad wasn't super thrilled to get that call.
"What were you thinking, son?" he asked as he flipped a pork chop, "You haven't been in a fight since you were what... 10?"
"I wasn't thinking I guess." Dean replied. The truth was that Brody had said "Hit me," and Dean knew from experience that if he didn't obey, he... or someone he loved, might pay.
"Just tell me it won't happen again."
"It won't happen again."
"Good." Dean's dad seemed to hesitate, debating whether he'd been strict enough. Finally, he decided. "And you'll apologize face to face with this kid you punched too, first thing tomorrow."
Dean groaned. So much for his idea of keeping as far away from Brody as possible. "Yes Dad, I'll say I'm sorry."
His dad looked at him and nodded. "Now go get the others, dinner's just about done."
Dean got up and climbed the stairs, knocking on two doors as he went. One belonged to his oldest brother, Liam, who was 17. Liam was by far the stud of the family. He was just entering senior year and had already been asked to lead the football team and basketball team. He had a similar face to Dean, but being almost an entire foot taller and having probably double the muscle mass, that was where the similarities stopped.
The second door he knocked on was his older sister's bedroom door. Amanda was 16 and bookish. Her long brown hair and big green eyes (taken from Dad) made her pretty, but she had yet to bring anyone around the house. Dean was interested to see what she was like at school now that they'd attend the same one -- maybe she just kept her relationship status strictly away from home.
Finally, the last door of the hall was Dean's room -- which he shared with his little brother Ben. Ben was just about 13 and already a few inches taller than Dean. This annoyed him a great deal, added on top of the fact that Dean found it hard to get privacy since Ben liked to hang around their room playing video games all day.
Once Dean had let everyone know dinner was ready, it wasn't long before the group was sitting around the table and dad was asking everyone about their day.
"Heard you tried to take on Brody O'Leary today, punk," Liam jabbed. Dean hated when he called him punk.
"Seriously?" Ben said, "You must have done good, you don't even have a scratch."
"No more fights like that from any of you -- got it?" Dad entered, pointing his fork, complete with piece of pork chop, at each teen in turn.
All the kids muttered their consent when their dad's phone rang. "Every fucking time," Dad set down his fork and knife rather loudly and answered, excusing himself from the table.
"You're going to ruin our reputation if you start your shit again," Amanda piped up for the first time since coming downstairs. "People are already talking about it."
Liam was nodding, "They're also saying you did it for attention. If that's what you want, you should try out for a team or something. That's how I made my name. Think about it."
"I know. I will," Dean said. The last thing he wanted was to try out for any team. But he'd now been commanded to at least consider it.
Dinner finished in peace and Dean went up to his room, just wanting today to be over. He had just lied down when Ben came in and said "Pass me the TV remote, I left it on your bed."
Dean sighed and tossed him the remote. "Why the fuck were you on my bed?"
"Because it's my room and I can do what I want."
"It's my room too."
Dean and Ben were the kind of brothers that didn't really get along but didn't really fight. Both were usually too lazy or distracted to carry an argument through to the end, but would always start them. On a few occasions, Ben had gotten close to discovering Dean's secret, as they'd be arguing and Ben would say something like "Shut up." Of course, Dean would obey. On one particular occasion, Ben had even said "Get out," and was shocked when Dean did.
Dean fell asleep to the sounds of machine guns and grenade blasts.
+++
While Dean got ready for school, he wondered how long it would be before he ran into Brody and had to apologize. He knew avoiding him for a bit would just be putting off the inevitable. As luck would (or wouldn't) have it, when he got off the bus he saw Brody in the same spot he'd hit him with his backpack yesterday. He decided he might as well get this talk over with.
Brody was standing alone, texting or doing something on his phone. "Brody," Dean said as he got close, "I wanted to apologize for yesterday. It was wrong of me to hit you like that."
Brody didn't look up at first. For a while he kept on texting. Dean decided he'd done his piece, and if Brody wanted to ignore him, that was up to him. He was just about to turn and walk away when Brody spoke. "But I told you to hit me, so it wasn't really your fault."
Dean was shocked. Was Brody actually taking the blame? The tone in which he said it made him think maybe he wasn't such a bad guy after all. But then it was ruined when Brody looked up with a sideways smirk. "It wasn't really your fault, but you still hit me, and people are talking about it. That annoys me, because I had a good reputation until you came. Meet me in the second-floor washroom at the beginning of lunch and we'll make things even. If you know what's good for you."
With that, Brody walked towards the school and Dean got a sinking feeling in his stomach. If it had been phrased any other way -- as a question (Do you want to meet me in the washroom?) or even as a suggestion (I suggest you meet me in the washroom) -- Dean could have had a choice. But it was the way in which Brody made commandments that made the choice for Dean. Through the first few periods he kept thinking "What if I just don't go?" But he flashed back to his day with Mr. Prince so many years ago, and he knew his mind was made up.
The lunch bell rang and Dean made his way upstairs through the crowds of students, most of which could see over his head and hardly noticed him scurry by. Just as he reached the washroom, he heard his friend Jayden call out for him.
"I just have to use the washroom man and I'll catch up," Dean shouted back, a little nervous to go through with this. Jayden nodded and turned towards the stairs down to the cafeteria.
Brody was sitting on the counter when Dean entered. It looked like his smirk hadn't changed since this morning.
"Looking forward to paying up?" Brody asked.
"What do you mean?" Dean's nervousness was evident in his voice.
"You smudged my reputation of one of the top dogs at this school, and for that you owe me. Answer the question boy. Looking forward to paying up?"
"To be honest, not really."
Brody chuckled. "What do you think is fair, kiddo? How are you prepared to pay?"
Dean didn't have any money, except for lunch. "I have five dollars I was going to use for lunch. You can have that." He hesitated when Brody didn't say anything. "And I can give you my money tomorrow too."
"My reputation is worth ten dollars, is it?" He stood up.
"Uh, no. But that's all I have."
"Really, that's all you have?"
"Yes." Dean was cowering now as Brody backed him into an open stall.
"I want you to give me your clothes. The ones your wearing."
Dean simultaneously gasped, and breathed a sigh of relief. The request itself was insane, but he hadn't commanded him. He'd simply stated what he wanted. There was a difference; Dean had tested this when he was twelve, and nothing horrible happened. He was allowed to refuse things that weren't all-out commands. He just had to be careful that Brody didn't rephrase.
"Is there something else I can give you instead?" He tried to change the topic.
"No, there isn't. Are you going to strip or am I going to strip you?"
This was getting trickier. Dean honestly didn't know what to say. At this point, they Brody's advance had caused them both to fully enter the stall and the back of Dean's knees were pressed against the toilet. He couldn't back up any more.
Dean hesitated too long. Brody said it. "Fucking strip like I asked you to. Pants first." The pants came off. "Give them to me." Now the shirt. "Give it here, baldy." That was a crack at Dean's lack of body hair, he was sure. Next off were shoes, socks and finally Dean's plaid boxers dropped to his ankles and Brody snatched them up.
He looked Dean up and down and let out a malicious laugh. Then, without warning, snapped a picture on his phone. "Well, I know how to ruin your reputation if you ever damage mine again. For now, you're going to stay in here. You can keep the stall door locked, I guess, but you're spending lunch in here like this. If I remember, I'll come give your clothes back before Gym class."
With that, he picked up Dean's backpack which had fallen to the floor, and stuffed all of his clothes in it, put it on his own back, and left a very naked, hungry and scared boy in the second floor bathroom alone.