Diary, Fall of 2002

 

by: webb025@hotmail.com

 

Disclaimer: This is a work of erotic fiction. If you are under 18, or are

offended by the idea of male-male sex or mind control, DO NOT read this.

 

Reader feedback is appreciated. It helps me determine what and whether to

write!

 

 

 

September 23

 

My name is Lance Peterson. I'm beginning my senior year at Rosewood High,

and I've decided to keep a diary of what I hope will be my best year ever.

 

In case I give this diary to someone who doesn't know me that well, I'll

describe myself. I'm 17, 6'4" and 205 pounds. I have completely straight

brown hair (that my mom calls "chestnut-colored") that I've worn at

different lengths over the years, but now it's cut to hang to just above my

eyebrows. I wear size 14 shoes, which is a real pain since most stores only

stock up to 12 or 13. I also have really large hands, so I can actually palm

a basketball.

 

On the personal front, since my dad died in a car accident when I was 8,

I've had to be the "man of the family", helping mom run the house and raise

my younger brother Joey. He's not as gifted as I am in certain things, so

I've tried to set an example for him. When he was really young, he looked up

to me a great deal, but when he entered his teens, he seemed to get more

surly and assertive. Oh well, I guess it's a natural stage of development,

and I hope it's over soon.

 

I have a great girlfriend, Jenny Parker. She's blond and on the tall side,

and she and I have been together since the seventh grade, and I guess you

could say we "complete" each other. Not only is she great-looking, but she's

extremely smart, and she and I usually understand each other with very few

words. We haven't done anything sexually, though, beyond kissing. We're the

perfect example of high-school sweethearts that sometimes successfully get

and stay married, but we haven't really thought about that yet since we

don't know exactly where we'll be next year.

 

This is of course the last year I'll be living in my home town, since it's

far away from the colleges I'll be applying to. I'm not sure where I'm

headed, but it will probably come down to a choice for me of Yale in the

east or Stanford in the west. I mean, there's no sure thing, of course, but

I don't see what more I can do to improve my chances of admission. My school

has a statewide reputation of being tough academically, and usually the

first dozen or so out of our graduating class of 350 have pretty much their

pick of schools, provided they have tended to their extracurricular and

community activities, which I've done.

 

I'm at the top of my class academically. I seem to have an aptitude for both

the sciences and humanities, and I haven't really favored one over the

other, which is making it harder for me to choose a college. I'm also

captain of the football team, which has been doing unexpectedly well this

year. In our second game, we beat last year's state champion school, which

surprised everyone, even us. I guess we were just more determined than we'd

ever been. Of course, going into the game, we'd convinced ourselves we could

do it, even though deep down reason told us otherwise.

 

I'm headed downstairs for breakfast, where I can hear my younger brother

Joey already slurping his cereal. My brother is a bit of a slacker. He's 15

and a sophomore, but he doesn't get nearly the grades that I do. While I'm

quite muscular (I take after our father's side of the family), he's more the

lean wiry type, like mom's male relatives. He's never been too interested in

athletics, and spends a lot more time hanging with his friends than on his

homework. Since I accidentally walked in on him in the shower recently, I

know he also doesn't take after dad's side of the family in another way: he

is only about 6 inches soft. When I was his age, I was already a bit over 7

inches soft, and I still had some growing to do. Also, my chest hair was

already filling in at that time, while his chest is still completely

hairless. He's never been as far along as I was at any age. It must be tough

being my brother, being compared to me, expected to live up to what I've

done.

 

I was elected class president last week. It was kind of expected, since I

had been president in all three previous years of school. I have sometimes

been able to use the position to make a difference in life at the school,

and I feel really good about that. In the election, my best friend on the

football team, Chris Parker, Jenny's twin brother, came in second, with

about 20% of the votes. He didn't really run very hard, just said he thought

it would be better if I had SOME competition, and he's probably right. I

mean it shouldn't be like a coronation or something. Chris is also ranked

second in our class academically, although there's a bit of a gap between

him and me. I don't think he'll be giving me competition for the

valedictorian spot at the end of the year. I know it's a long time from now,

and it's a bit silly to think about in September, but I'm already mulling

about what to put in to make the best possible speech that the class will

remember long after they've left school.

 

Two afternoons a week, I tutor a class of the slower kids in several

subjects. It makes me feel good to help, and it won't hurt on my college

applications. I've put in extra time with one of them, a junior named Drew.

He was on the football team, but got kicked off for low grades. Although

he's a year younger, he's physically even bigger than I am, and since he's

good looking and charming and sure of himself, he's popular and has no

trouble with the ladies, but he doesn't take academics seriously at all. I'm

trying to get him interested in at least one or two subjects to get his

grades above what he needs to get back on the team. Sometimes I get him

interested briefly in what I'm going over, but then the big goof lets his

hair drop over his eyes and puts on a big silly grin, and I know I have to

go back a few steps to get him on track again.

 

One evening a week, I also help out underprivileged kids at the local police

youth league. I coach their football and basketball teams. It feels really

good to serve as a role model for kids that don't really have one at home.

They're ages 13 to 15, a variety of races, physical types, and attitudes,

which means I have to work with them one-on-one as much as I help them as

teams. I think the key to gaining their trust is to win over Darryl, the

oldest of the group. He's black, just turned 15, and is the tallest of the

bunch at 6'3", but his upper body hasn't finished filling out yet, so I have

him working on it. He also has a juvenile record and had the most arrogant

attitude coming into the program, but I think I've begun to win his respect.

I'm helping him with working out, and with a progression of weights.

 

Well, that should give you a good idea of my life. Everything seems to be

going according to plan so far this year. The only thing out of the ordinary

that has happened lately is that the first few nights of this week, my

dinner had an unusual undertaste. I couldn't quite make it out, but it was

definitely there. I thought I might be getting sick or something, but as the

days went by I noticed it less and less, and maybe it was my imagination all

along. Also, while I'm usually a heavy sleeper, in the middle of last night

I woke up somewhat, and thought I felt something tight around my ears, but

when I got up the next morning, there was nothing. I guess the pressure of

having to excel in my final year of high school may be getting to me a bit.

 

 

September 30

 

My week ended on a sour note. I usually ace every assignment, but I somehow

overlooked an English paper that was due. I've never done that in my whole

school career! Oh well, I'm sure I'll make up for it in the next few weeks.

 

Also, maybe something hormonal is going on. The last few days, I've been

having weird thoughts, ones I don't even want to record here. They occur

everywhere -- at breakfast, at school, at football practice, even at the

police youth league session. And they cause me a particular physical

problem. You see, when you're on the big side, it's almost impossible to

hide a hard-on. Unless you're wearing really baggy pants, and I don't dress

that way, there's just no place for it to go. I have to carry my books more

strategically than usual. It can be real embarrassing when people notice.

 

 

October 7

 

The strange hormonal thing I've had going on is now happening almost

continuously. It's causing me moments of distraction as my eye wanders the

room, looking at people's shoes for some reason. I notice the size and

condition of guys' running shoes and sneakers, I notice who's not wearing

socks, and so on. It only lasts moments at a time, so it hasn't affected my

school work, really. But why am I thinking about this, and why the heck is

it making me hard? I'm not just "competitively" comparing, am I? Anyway, no

other guy I come across regularly in school comes close to my size 14 shoes,

except Chris my football buddy who wears size 13s, and Drew, the guy I

tutor, who wears 16s and rarely wears socks.

 

 

October 14

 

I don't know what's been happening to me lately. I've been losing

concentration in my classes, and that's never happened before. The time I

spend staring at shoes has increased; by now, I could tell you the shoe size

of almost anyone in any of my classes. Plus I now find myself daydreaming

about the oddest things. I can coast somewhat on what I know, but my grades

are slipping. Mr. Goodman, the faculty advisor to the tutored group, has

suggested that I step aside from my tutoring job while I recover my

concentration.

 

The lack of focus has also carried over to football. I can't seem to

remember some of the more complicated plays, and I screwed up at least twice

in last Friday's game. Coach has temporarily made Chris Parker the starter,

and has assigned me some extra practice time to get back to my previous good

form. As the team leader, I don't want to hurt the team's chances of a good

ranking in the state this year, so I'm fine with that.

 

Jenny wanted to come over to the house this evening, but I was feeling a bit

dazed and didn't want to make her uncomfortable, so I begged off. Several

times in the last week I've kind of avoided her at school, and I'm not sure

why. I'm just not feeling like myself lately and I don't want to do anything

that might hurt our relationship, like acting weird. Until I feel better, I

don't completely trust myself.

 

 

October 21

 

Something very weird happened after football practice yesterday. Chris

finished taking off his uniform just as I got into the locker room, and

headed for the shower, leaving his sweaty clothes on the bench in front of

his locker. For some reason, I stared, fascinated, at his used jock strap on

the bench. When everyone had gone to the shower and I was alone on the

bench, I reached over and grabbed the jock, and impulsively put it to my

nose. I was overcome by the incredibly rich aroma of Chris' crotch sweat,

and my tongue darted out to see if it tasted as good as it smelled. I

thought of Chris: blond-haired, blue-eyed, taller than me at 6'5", well

toned but not as powerfully built as I am, totally smooth creamy skin, and I

got hard. Real hard. Suddenly, I looked up and I wasn't alone anymore. Chris

had come back from the shower, and was looking at me oddly. He grabbed his

jock out of my hand. I was hugely humiliated, but there was no hiding my

thoughts: my immense boner told him everything. He didn't say anything, but

his expression changed to a smirk, and he walked away. I hoped he wouldn't

tell anyone, but how can he look up to me as team captain after he's seen me

do that?

 

Come to think of it, in recent days I've been having to change quickly and

take really short showers, because I seem to have nearly constant hardons

when I'm with the team and naturally I don't want them to see it. Just

turning to one side doesn't help when you're as big as I am. I have no idea

why this is happening -- I'm not gay or anything -- but I'm totally unable

to discuss it with anyone at school or with my mom at home. Why should I

worry her?

 

 

October 28

 

I notice I've been dressing differently these days. Instead of my usual

clothes, I've been wearing tight shirts with the top several buttons

unbuttoned, and the size 30 pants I wore years ago (even though I'm now size

32). Why I'm doing this I have no idea, I just notice it when I get to

school. The tight pants are causing me even more "exposure" embarrassment

than I was going through before. I've got to stop this. People are staring

and talking when I walk by, more openly now than in previous weeks.

 

The academic situation is getting worse. In one class I sit behind Chris,

and during a midterm exam, somehow I spent the whole period running my eyes

up and down his body, thinking about what each part of him might smell like,

might taste like. As I imagined my nose buried in his rich blond hair, the

bell rang and the exam was over. I hadn't answered a single question.

 

Ms. Harris noticed my blank paper when she collected the exams, and told me

to wait while the class left. She then sat down next to me and asked me what

was wrong. I couldn't tell her the truth, it was too humiliating, so I just

told her I had had difficulty concentrating lately. She said she had noticed

my work deteriorating rapidly over the past few weeks, and suggested I have

a doctor look at me. She also suggested that I could maybe benefit from a

few afternoons in the remedial class, to catch up on some of the material I

had not absorbed. This was of course the same class I used to tutor, and

even one of the subjects in which I had provided extra help to that big

goofy junior, Drew. As the thought of Drew crossed my mind, I felt a

stiffening in my pants. Where did THAT come from?

 

I noticed one other thing. I've always been attracted to Ms. Harris, a cute

brunette who looks much younger than her late twenty-something years, but

now I felt not even the slightest attraction. I thought that maybe it was

the shame of the particular situation that kept me from feeling interested,

but it sure didn't stop me from getting hard when I thought of Drew in the

tutored class. What's happening to me?

 

Of course with my current academic situation, I'll be suspended from the

football team. Yet oddly when I think about that, my main disappointment

involves not being in the locker room or showers with the guys. I'm guessing

THEY won't be that disappointed, since I wasn't always 100% successful at

hiding my almost continuous hardons in there, and it clearly made them

uncomfortable.

 

 

November 4

 

In school today, as I rounded a corner, I saw my little brother in an

intense conversation with Jenny at her locker. Before I got down the hall,

though, she had left for a class. It was odd; I've never seen those two

together at school. I had a really bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, and

I wanted to chase after her and apologize for not having talked to her

lately, but I suddenly realized I didn't want to talk to her at all. Had

Chris, her twin, told her about the locker room incident?

 

In the remedial class, I had a hard time getting my mind around some math

problems. Drew actually helped me with a few of them. It was a bit

embarrassing to have someone I helped now helping me, but it was REALLY

humiliating when I realized I was getting excited by being near him. I had

to shift my notebook several times to keep him from seeing it. But to me,

instead of seeming to be the year-younger big goof I used to help, he now

seemed to be not only bigger than I am, but smarter also, more sure of

himself, more significant. I looked up to him a bit, and felt gratitude that

he had reached out to help me. Strangest of all, when his hair flopped over

his eyes as usual, it took all my self-control not to reach out and brush

his hair aside so I could look into his eyes. Wait a minute, this guy used

to look up to me, and now I was feeling respect for -- and maybe even a

touch of LUST for -- him?

 

Since I've been suspended from the football team, I've had to take phys ed

since last Thursday. That day, as I began to change in the locker room, I

discovered I had forgotten to put on underwear. Between that and the tight

pants my problem hiding hardons has gotten even worse. And I discovered I

get just as hard in the presence of the more "geeky" types in phys ed as I

did in the football locker room. I'm shocked to find myself admiring the

looks, the smoothness, the masculinity of a skinny freshman even more than I

did some of my football teammates. I slip into daydreams about some of these

guys before I even notice it. I hope none of them ever finds out what I'm

thinking about them.

 

Both Friday and today I discovered the same thing: Each day after phys ed, I

was determined to make sure that the next day I would wear underwear and

looser fitting pants. But each next day at school I discovered I was again

wearing the tight pants without underwear. Why can't I remember to dress

right in the morning?

 

Jenny came by our house with her little brother Paul this evening. I was

surprised to see her, since she hadn't called me -- in fact, we haven't

spoken much lately -- but the two of them were actually there to see my

brother Joey. I wondered if it had anything to do with the conversation I

saw Jenny and Joey having at school. They went into Joey's room and seemed

to be in an animated conversation, but I couldn't hear what they were

saying. On her way in, Jenny was polite but distant with me, and I was too

embarrassed by the possibility that she might know about my locker room

incident with Chris to try to engage her in any deeper conversation.

 

 

November 11

 

This morning my brother came to the table shirtless for some reason. I don't

know why, but I kept stealing glances at his smooth, toned chest and I

noticed I was licking my lips. It was a real shock because I've never

thought of Joey in a sexual way before. I sure hope he didn't notice. He

seemed like such a commanding presence sitting there, while I felt overgrown

and freakish. When he just suggested out of the blue that I take off my

shirt too, I did it without even thinking. I didn't really want to do it,

but when he said it, it seemed like just a natural thing to do. Mom didn't

seem to notice anything unusual about the whole situation; she just smiled

and kept working around the kitchen.

 

I can't even begin to explain what happened this afternoon. While I was at

Southwoods Mall, I shoplifted a leather jacket and got caught. I have

absolutely no idea why I did it; I already have several jackets much nicer

than the one I took. It's as if I had no control over my actions; I just

grabbed the jacket and ran to the exit, where the security guard grabbed me.

I tried to shake loose, and since I'm pretty strong I almost got away, but

another guard came over to help the first and they had me.

 

They were going to prosecute, but because of my good record of helping out

with the police youth league, the cops convinced them to give me a break.

Mom picked me up at the station, and for some reason Joey was in the car

with her, which made my humiliation much worse. I mean, I've tried to set an

example for him my whole life, and now he sees me at maybe my lowest point

ever. Mom didn't say a word the whole way home, and Joey just smirked most

of the time.

 

Jenny came over again tonight, as she did every day last week, only this

time without Paul. She went straight up to Joey's room. As she passed me

downstairs, she just said a brief "Hi" and kept walking. Last week I figured

she MUST have heard what happened with me and Chris. I don't know how I can

talk to her again.

 

 

November 15

 

I had a very disturbing dream last night. I dreamed I was on all fours,

completely naked, harnessed to a wagon like a horse. Sitting in the wagon,

holding a whip, naked except for his Nikes, was my brother. Next to him,

also naked except for his sneakers, was his bud Paul, Jenny and Chris'

younger brother. I was pulling the wagon along, and every once in awhile

Joey or Paul would kick my ass with his Nikes, making me go faster. Every

time that happened, I got a permanent red shoeprint on my ass. And it seemed

very natural for me to be pulling that wagon. I woke up in a cold sweat.

Where had THAT dream come from?

 

Jenny has been coming over regularly lately to see Joey. They now go around

openly together at school also, even though she's two years older than he

is. How did she get involved with HIM? What could the most beautiful girl in

school possibly see in my younger brother? Well, actually, I WAS beginning

to understand it. Joey has seemed so commanding lately, so masculine, so

sure of himself. While I seem to be fading, he seems to be emerging into the

social limelight at school. Having Jenny on his arm doesn't hurt. And for

some reason I can't complain to him or even bring up the subject with him,

or her.

 

 

November 18

 

I've noticed that lately, I seem to be unable to refuse my brother's

suggestions. Even when I don't agree with him and and when I'm disgusted at

what he's telling me to do, I have to do it. I can't pinpoint when it began,

but each day, his demands seem to get more outrageous, like he's seeing how

far he can push me, and he hasn't found a limit yet. A while back, it

started with little things, like him telling me to clean up his room. It

moved on to bigger demands, like him telling me to give him and his friends

rides at all hours. Yesterday, he casually said that I really should strip

naked, put one of his used jockstraps on my head, and clean the kitchen. I

started to argue with him, but even while I was arguing I was stripping.

 

What I don't understand is why mom doesn't say anything about any of this.

Joey is somehow preventing me from communicating with her without getting

his permission, but you'd think she'd notice as my behavior got more and

more weird. She just smiles and goes about her business.

 

Joey found my diary -- he seems to go through my room regularly, and just

takes what he wants, and I am too intimidated to stop him. The first time I

found him doing this and angrily told him to put something back, I

temporarily blacked out and when I came to, I found myself kneeling at the

toilet, lapping his piss out of it. Joey saw that I had stopped making

entries in this diary a week ago. He told me to get back to filling it out,

so he could show it around to friends at school, both mine and his. Despite

this chilling thought, I found myself compelled to get back to work on it.

 

I still have my mind -- when I can still focus with it -- but Joey can

override my will with his at any time. How he got this power I don't know.

Any part of my body has to do whatever he says. Last night he ordered me to

get hard and jerk off, but not to cum, then he left my room to watch TV and

must have forgotten about me. For hours I lay there, my fist pounding and

pounding, getting sorer all the time but unable to stop. Finally, he came by

on the way to his room and released me with a command. I put on some lotion

to stop the burning, and contemplated my position. At least now I have some

idea of why I've been going through changes. Of course, I've been forbidden

by Joey's unbreakable orders to tell anyone about what was going on, or to

seek help in any way.

 

 

November 18

 

Today after school I went as usual to the police youth league session, and

was surprised and more than a little scared to see Joey out front. He

evidently read my diary entry about the coaching and decided to show up. As

we went in the door, he hissed at me, "Listen, faggot. You're going to

agree, out loud, with everything I say. And you're going to do everything I

say. Got that?" Oh no, I thought. Not that, not here. "Answer me!" "Yes,

Joey," I was forced to say.

 

We went to where the team was warming up. They gathered around me.

"Introduce me," hissed Joey. "This is my little brother Joey," I told them.

Joey said, "I've got news for you guys. I just found out why Lance here was

interested in coaching your team. Seems he's a faggot, and all along he was

just hot for your bods. Isn't that right, Lance?"

 

The team stared in amazement and disbelief. No! No! I wanted to scream. I

felt short of breath, and could feel myself turning red. I was humiliated

beyond measure. But I heard myself say, quietly, "Yes, that's right."

 

Joey snarled, "What did you say, fag?"

 

"Yes, Joey, that's right," I was forced to say loudly. I was breaking out

into a serious sweat. The team members started to come out of their shock,

and some were smirking evilly.

 

Joey continued: "He told me that he's dreamed for months of sucking all your

cocks, and most of all he wanted to worship Darryl, who he considers a god."

Oh no, oh no, all my work there destroyed in one minute. I grew even redder.

 

Darryl was still skeptical. "I don't know, man. I been workin with him for

months, and I never noticed nothin like that."

 

"He told me he's always dreamed of jerking off while licking your feet, and

calling you Master. Right, Lance?"

 

"Yes, Joey," I said, looking down in total shame.

 

"See, the faggot is perving over your feet right now. He's got a thing for

feet, smelly old sneakers and used gym socks. He also loves raunchy

jockstraps. He goes through the shoes in my closet and into my dirty laundry

all the time at home."

 

"Man, that's low," said one of the younger kids.

 

"He's also into licking armpits, eating cum and drinking piss. At home, I

use him as my own personal muscle toilet. But his real fantasy is serving as

a slave to a bunch of inner-city guys like you. I just thought I'd reward

him by bringing him to you." You could tell most of the guys were getting

hot at the thought of having a slave give them the sexual satisfaction every

young teen lusts after, whenever they wanted. Meanwhile, Darryl seemed to

have grown somehow bigger in stature, with his muscular arms crossed.

 

Joey whispered something into Darryl's ear. "If you say that word, he'll

call you Master and do anything you say. Lance, the guys want to take you

into the locker room and have some fun with you. You're getting what you

always wanted. Bye!" And off he went.

 

In a panic, I turned to follow him, but one word from Darryl and I was

frozen in place. My leg muscles strained to get me out of there, but I

couldn't move. The team gathered around me. Darryl said, "I can't believe

it, but I guess it's true. I thought he was cool, but I guess he just wanted

us all that time. I guess we can all have some fun here." He glared at me

powerfully. "Lissen, you gotta think of us as real men, and you just a piece

of dirt, somethin to serve us." As he said this, I looked around at the

group. They all started to look like ideals of manhood to me, even the

scrawniest 13 year old, while I was just an overgrown piece of shit fit only

to serve them. I was not excited by this, only resigned to my deserved

position. I followed the team into the locker room.

 

Mercifully, I don't remember much about that afternoon or evening. I don't

know if they ordered me to forget it, or what. I woke up that night in the

alley behind the locker room, naked, with every part of me feeling abused.

My body was covered with dried sweat and partly dried piss. My mouth,

asshole, and throat felt stretched, the incredibly foul taste in my mouth

seemed to combine sweat, cum, and piss, and my muscles ached as if they had

all been used full time for hours.

 

I had to limp home, naked. Fortunately, there were very few people in the

street, although I had to duck into alleys and behind bushes on several

occasions to avoid being spotted.

 

 

November 25

 

News of the incident at the police youth league got back to school -- there

was no way to keep it secret anyway -- and I was expelled. Of course I was

unable to tell anyone I wasn't responsible for what happened. Leaving school

didn't matter much, since my ability to do any work there seems to have

ended anyway. But I find myself compelled to go there every afternoon and

hang around the athletic field so I can catch glimpses of Chris and Drew at

football practice. I have to be careful they don't catch me or I'll be

ordered to leave school property.

 

Jenny comes by the house every evening now, wearing skimpy clothing despite

the weather. She takes her top off and sits on Joey's lap, right in the

living room. My mom just smiles. Whenever Joey says the word "slut", Jenny

goes crazy and is all over him, tongue down his throat, fingers tugging at

his zipper, begging for his cock. In all her time with me, she was so proper

and dignified, as befit a classy popular senior. But here she has no

control, and of course I now understand it. Paul and Joey now control her,

the way Joey controls me. It's probably just a matter of time until Chris

falls into Paul and Joey's clutches. When they control both twins, who knows

WHAT Jenny and Chris will be forced to do.

 

 

November 28

 

In a show of power, Joey required mom and me to go through Thanksgiving

dinner totally naked. Again, mom doesn't seem to think any of this is

strange. About an hour after we started, Jenny showed up -- I don't know how

she sneaked out of her house without explanation, Paul must be gaining

control of his home the way Joey already controls ours -- and at a word from

Joey, Jenny also removed all her clothes and joined us at the table. Joey

had her eat food off of various parts of his body while mom just smiled. As

her tongue thoroughly cleaned stuffing and gravy from Joey's various

orifices, instead of being disgusted I couldn't help wishing it was me doing

the licking.

 

 

December 2

 

I've moved out of my room, and into the basement. My brother wanted my room

as a party room for him and his friends, and I had to agree in light of

recent events that I didn't deserve my own room anyway. In the basement, I

have a mattress on the floor, a small "table" consisting of piled-up old

telephone books, and a lamp. I also have exercise equipment that I find

myself compelled to use in almost all my spare moments.

 

My car also now belongs to my brother. He's still too young to drive, so he

makes me drive him wherever he wants to go. He has started to make me wear a

chauffeur's cap and open the car door for him. This always produces staring

and laughs when I take him to school, but I have no choice but to obey him.

 

Last night, he made me wear a muscle shirt to show off my physique, and had

me drive to the neighborhood with a lot of gay bars. He had me get out and

strut cockily around the car, and I seemed to attract a lot of attention. My

brother had a quiet discussion with an older guy, and soon I was in a room

with the balding, somewhat overweight older guy taking his clothes off. The

sight was totally disgusting to me, but I was forced to stand there and

watch. Then, he uttered some word, I didn't hear what it was, but when he

said it, I felt uncontrollable lust for him. I had never been attracted to

any guy in my life, and now I was begging this ugly old guy to let me suck

him off and be fucked by him. He wouldn't let me near his cock until I

licked his boots clean while he called me disgusting names. After an hour of

the painful sex that I desperately desired, he led me outside where my

brother was waiting. My brother whispered another word into my ear, and

suddenly I came out of the daze. I remembered everything that happened with

complete disgust. I almost threw up right then and there, but I managed to

avoid it because I knew my brother would punish me.

 

I looked up to see my brother putting his wallet back into his pocket. "Good

boy, Lancie. Let's go back to the front of the big bar across the street and

see if we can come up with any more business. We're just getting started!"

 

The next guy he talked with was only about my age, too young to get into the

bar. He had been hanging around the entrance, looking around forlornly to

get anyone's attention, but the burly biker types weren't interested. He was

blond, only about 5' tall, very skinny and somewhat effeminate. When my

brother sent us off to the room, I wasn't sure what to expect. Again, once

the kid said this word, I was totally in his power. At first, he had me

wrestle him into the ground and beat him up. Soon, though, I saw that our

roles were changing, and when we wrestled the next time, the short skinny

dude had me helplessly pinned, and then HE started abusing ME while I became

weak as a kitten. Soon my tongue was working around his entire body, while

occasionally he would suddenly punch or kick me painfully and laugh when I

flinched in fear. I guess even natural bottom types have a hidden top side

which can come out when they're in complete control.

 

This time, when we came back out of the room and my brother said the release

word in my ear, I was not as physically revolted as I had been the previous

time. In fact, while I was still somewhat humiliated and disgusted with

myself, there was also the feeling underneath that at some level I enjoyed

what happened. That feeling was perhaps the most frightening of all.

 

 

December 6

 

After nearly a week of turning tricks, I am starting to accept what I must

do, and even look forward to each session. Also, I can now get customers

without my brother's help. I no longer need the control word to become

obedient to my customer. No matter how young or old he is, or how dominant

or submissive, I can't refuse any command. My brother did program me to snap

out of it if the customer is about to do anything that would cause lasting

physical damage. After all, he wants me to be able to turn trick after trick

without much delay.

 

When I got back after work today, I found that Joey had used some of the

money to upgrade and add to the exercise equipment in my basement area. Joey

also mentioned that now that he understood the business, he might as well

make a few bucks out of Jenny too. And he said that Paul would have Chris

"ready" any day now to join their toy collection. Paul was going to bring

both his siblings to our house the next evening to try them out as a set.

 

 

December 7

 

Sure enough, when I got back to the house this evening, I found Joey and

Paul watching TV. Jenny, expressionless, was on her hands and knees in front

of Joey's chair, with him using her as a footrest. In the corner, standing

at attention, stood a naked, hard Chris. They seemed to be ignoring him

completely. He was sweating with the stress and effort of remaining

completely still and hard. With my new perspective, I admired his tall,

totally smooth body. His arms, legs, and chest all seemed bigger and better

developed than I remembered them. Judging from his increased musculature, I

guessed that Paul has him on the same merciless workout regimen that I am

on. Paul is also having Chris grow his beautiful blond hair much longer than

it ever was. I did however catch the look of desperation in his deep blue

eyes as he stood helplessly frozen, deathly afraid to move a muscle.

 

When the TV show they were watching was over, Joey and Paul discussed their

upcoming ventures involving Jenny, Chris, and me, their three moneymaking

assets and slaves. While they spoke, Joey idly ran the toes of one of his

feet around the kneeling Jenny's tits, causing her to moan occasionally. My

old self would have been totally outraged at this scene, but all I felt was

intense jealousy, not of Joey but of Jenny. I wished I could be on my knees

in front of Joey, with him playing with me with his feet. But of course he's

straight. I'll never be able to serve him in the ways that Jenny can.

 

Joey and Paul decided that while I was already too broken to be anything but

a fully obedient faggot slave, they could train Chris differently and rent

him out either to rich men or women. The job for Chris, Jenny and me would

now be to learn as much as we could about sexual techniques from selected

porn tapes, and then practice on each other. There was some discussion of

bringing Drew's younger brother Billy onto the "management team", so that

Drew could be captured and trained to be "stablemaster" and enforcer, to

oversee our learning process, collect money from tricks, and make sure we

remained in the team's complete control while they were off in school or

elsewhere. Drew is suited for this since he's bigger and stronger than any

of us, and Joey told Paul he had already started to condition me to obey

Drew. Of course I didn't say anything since I wasn't asked to speak, but I

didn't mind this idea at all when I heard it.

 

We had our first sexual technique practice session this evening. When Chris

and I were practicing together, Chris always assumed the dominant position.

Meanwhile, Chris and Jenny practiced together in order to learn many

variations of straight sex technique. Joey seemed especially to get off

watching Chris push me around roughly while I groveled, while Paul satisfied

his familial fantasies watching his helpless older twin siblings go lustily

at it under his direction. Sometimes Paul had one or both twins work on his

body just for fun.

 

Joey seemed especially determined to keep me and Jenny physically apart. He

discussed this with Paul. "Lance still seems to be looking at her once in

awhile. Maybe there's still some masculinity and self-esteem left. I guess I

need to bring him even lower by kicking the last bit of dignity out of him,"

sighed Joey. "Okay, let's get to work." He said a word and I passed out.

 

 

December 31

 

I crawl up on all fours from my basement mattress for breakfast. I do this

to show respect for my brother and because I'm not worthy enough to walk on

two legs. Breakfast, like all my meals, is a tasteless protein and vitamin

mash that helps with my muscular development, served in a dog bowl at my

brother's feet under the table. If I've been extra good, he'll stir it with

his bare foot, and let me lick it off his foot and from between his toes. He

knows I really appreciate this because with the bland mash, the only flavor

I can get is from his foot sweat and toe jam. Sometimes when he hasn't

washed he'll spread some of it in his sweaty armpits for me to lick out, to

give me some flavor variety. I really appreciate his thoughtfulness, and

don't deserve such careful treatment. When he pats my head in approval, I

instantly get hard. How godlike he is.

 

Housework and working out occupy my full time during every day. Around the

house I am almost always completely naked, except when I need to wear

protective gear for certain household tasks or workouts. In the evening, I

occasionally practice being abused at the feet of the now incredibly-muscled

Chris. At night, I drive my brother's car to the bar side of town, where

business lines up for me. It seems there's no one like me in this town,

young, horse-hung, hugely muscled and absolutely obedient, and there's a big

market for my services.

 

I know now how my brother managed my transformation from the beginning,

using a combination of drugs and subliminal programming with tapes he

recorded. I'm really grateful to my brother for helping me find my

appropriate place in life. With my almost full-time workout and bodybuilding

activities, I'm in better physical shape than I have ever been. With my

brother having set me up in my profession, I am earning really good money

for the family every evening. We've made enough that we are moving into a

bigger house with much more party space for my brother and his friends, and

now that he has his license, Joey has a second car, a Viper, that he drives

himself while I use his old one (the one that was mine originally). I help

him reinforce my training by using the collection of tapes he recorded to

increase my submissive obedience.

 

I don't have to worry about college, or anything else. I am especially

thankful that my brother made me realize that my place in life is a

muscleslave, serving men of all ages and types. This HAS been the best year

ever.

 

 

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