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Family disturbance [m/m pedo nc incest disturbing]
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
after reading this story you will never be able to watch home
improvement the same way again. it unsettled me the first
time i read it, read with caution.
i repeat, this story is about non consenual sex between brothers,
it is unsettling, and not for the weak of heart, you have been
warned,
insert standard disclaimer here
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~From: [email protected] (Jack in the Box)
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~Date: Sat, 27 Aug 1994 21:41:48 UTC
~Subject: "Family Disturbance" A Home Improvement Story, ch 1,2 (m/m/m,pedo,nc)
~Lines: 510
With tongue firmly planted in cheek, I thought that I might add my two
cents to the "Home Improvement" fantasy sex-story contest. This is your
"bad-scenario" episode. Actually this isn't a sex story, it's a horror
story. There is no actual "sex" going on here, only brutality.
In this non-reality everything goes wrong, as it can sometimes - even in
the best of families. There are a million stories in the naked city and
this is just one more. It happens to be one that I hope never happens, but
worse stuff goes on every day. Oh well.
If you get depressed easily I whole-heartedly recommend that you don't read
this one. It even bummed me out.
Here are your various warnings:
This story contains violent, non-consensual, incestuous, underage sex (i.e.
rape), irreparable mental damage, family tragedy, and some grisly
descriptions of sex acts and their consequences. Not to mention what one
young child can be driven to do when he senses that there are no options
left.
You may not be able to watch "Home Improvement" in the same way ever again.
Don't whine that I didn't warn you. There is no way I can convey the level
of violence and pain that this story contains.
Blood is spilled.
Young boys are irreparably harmed mentally and physically.
And possibly worst of all - Jill's new couch is ruined!
If you like this one, don't tell me. I don't want to know!
Boy/boy/boy sex/rape starts now!
^L
"Family Disturbance" - A Home Improvement saga
I.
"Owwwwwww!"
"Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!!"
"Mmpphhmmpphh!!!"
Brad pressed Mark's face further into the pillow until his crying was just
some muffled background noise that blended into the patter of rain on the
bedroom window.
Randy turned away from the scene and pretended to be asleep. He didn't
like what Brad had become and he had told him so, getting a black eye for
his trouble. Brad threatened to make his life a living hell if he told who
had hit him, so Randy had ended up grounded for two weeks when he refused
to tell Jill who he had been fighting with. Jill suspected that Jimmy
Abramson, the neighborhood bully, had beaten him up and only by pleading
with her (and promising that it wasn't Jimmy) had Randy been able to avoid
the disaster of having her call Jimmy's mom.
Jill didn't know that Randy had been cultivating Jimmy's friendship for
several months. Now that Brad had turned into one huge raging hormone life
for his brothers had become extremely unpleasant. Brad could always beat
up both of his little brothers, but for some reason had never realized it.
Now that puberty had set in he was feeling much more confident and cocky.
He ruled over his brothers with an iron fist, to the point that Randy even
felt sorry for what Mark was being put through.
It was one thing for Brad to steal his money and toys, keeping him quiet
with painful charlie horses and vicious threats, but what he did to Mark
was so bad that Randy had nightmares about Brad doing those things to him.
"Uuuuunnnnnnnhhhhhhh!!!!!" Brad released a stifled moan and climbed off
the quivering body of his youngest brother. Randy watched his older
brother, being careful to not change his breathing pattern - least Brad
notice he was awake. Brad was completely naked. In the pale light coming
through the window Randy could see his brother's penis beginning to soften
back to normal size from the huge monster that it became when aroused.
Brad leaned over the weeping form of Mark and wiped himself clean in Mark's
blond hair.
Randy winced and felt the bile rising in his throat. Every night for the
last three months, without fail, Brad had entered the room that Randy and
Mark shared and butt-fucked Mark. Randy had protested the first few times,
trying to humiliate Brad into leaving Mark alone, but his old standby of
humor had fallen on deaf ears with Brad's new-found strength. The first
time Brad had only slapped him, but it was hard enough to make Randy's head
spin and raise a welt that stayed painfully swollen for two days. The
second time Randy had told his mom and dad that he had cracked the rib
falling out of Bobby Munroe's tree house. He and Mark knew better. The
third time had been the black eye. It was purely survival for Randy now.
He felt terrible not being able to help Mark and didn't know why. He and
Brad had tortured the little dork since he could remember and it seemed
o.k. then. But now Brad was really hurting Mark. The first week there had
been blood all over the place and the boys had to bleach out the stains
while Jill was at her bridge club. After that there wasn't much blood, but
Mark was like a zombie now.
Tim and Jill couldn't figure out why their two younger sons were starting
to do so poorly in school and even though Jill had disagreed at first, Tim
had insisted that both boys go straight to their room after school and
study until their grades improved. This left a burning feeling in the pit
of Randy's stomach. He watched Brad play football in the street after
school while he and Mark grimly awaited nightfall. If Mark dared to look
outside and Brad saw him, he would slowly squeeze his penis through the
thick denim of his pants and blow a kiss in Mark's direction. That was
enough to send Mark into a fit of crying, from which Randy was rarely able
to help him recover.
Brad padded silently out of the room, still naked. "What a prick," thought
Randy. "The dork is so sure of himself that he prances around naked."
Randy waited a few more minutes and then silently slipped out. He brought
with him the rag he had hidden in his baseball glove. He rinsed out the
rag in hot water and tip-toed back to Mark's bedside. It was the same
ritual every night. Mark would chew on a face-full of pillow as Randy
carefully cleaned up his rear end. Randy usually held a small flashlight
in his mouth that cruelly highlighted the rips and tears in Mark's anus.
As delicately as he could he would wipe up the evidence of Brad's
violation. He had actually gotten sick one of the first times when he had
been confronted with all the blood, semen, and shit that Brad had managed
to smear between Mark's small cheeks. That had convinced him that this was
wrong, way wrong.
Mark whimpered every time Randy wiped across his raw hole.
"I'm sorry Mark, but you know we can't take a chance on getting the sheets
dirty and mom finding out."
Mark grimaced, painful tears streaming down his face.
"Am I a fag, Randy? Brad says I'm a fag and a butt-slut. He says I like
it when he sticks his dick in me, but I don't! I don't like it. I wish I
was dead and I never had to see him again."
Randy didn't answer. All these questions had been answered numerous times
before as they sat in their room after school. Randy tried to convince
Mark that it wasn't anything he did to make Brad act like such a shit, but
Mark insisted on blaming himself for his predicament. Randy had even let
Mark sleep with him on occasion, if only to stop him from whimpering all
night long. That had stopped when Mark offered to let Randy do it to him,
if he would protect him from Brad. Randy could never imagine taking
pleasure in hurting anyone the way Brad hurt Mark. Teasing was one thing,
but this was too much.
After a month Randy had started sneaking out of the house in the afternoon.
Mark was sworn to secrecy, but that didn't mean much. He would shinny down
the tree next to their window and run out to the high school field.
Sitting in the bleachers he would try to think of some way to stop Brad.
At first Randy had tried to convince himself that if Brad wasn't hurting
him it wasn't any of his business, but he knew that was a lie every morning
when he woke up with violent, burning diarrhea from worrying about it. Now
he schemed and planned. He had to find a way that would stop Brad, but not
expose Mark to the ridicule of anyone. Even his mom and dad couldn't know.
Tim would never be able to look at Mark the same way again and Mark
worshipped the ground Tim walked on. It would kill him.
That's where Jimmy Abramson came in. Jimmy had always been the biggest,
meanest kid around. He had even hit a teacher once. That got him sent
back a grade so now he was the only 15 year old who was still a freshman.
Sitting there in the bleachers and watching the football team practice gave
Randy an idea. If he could come up with the right bait he might be able to
even up the score with Brad. Kim was a girl who used to baby-sit for the
boys several years ago. Randy had always been her favorite and they still
saw each other occasionally, to talk. Randy used one of these meetings to
pump her for information concerning Jimmy.
It seemed that everybody in high school knew about Jimmy. He had a short
fuse, a taste for liquor, and a devastating right hook. Randy had guessed
that he probably had a taste for sex too when Kim had mentioned that Jimmy
waved his erect penis at the girls volleyball team one day, earning himself
a two-week suspension.
It was obvious to Randy that Jimmy was a loaded gun. Watching him on the
field had convinced him that Jimmy would be perfect. Kim had also
presented him with the nugget of information that Jimmy was going to be
kicked off the football team, if he didn't get his grades up. The main
problem was that everybody was too scared to tutor him.
Randy was already reading four grades above normal, so he didn't think he
would have a problem with the work, but staying alive in the presence of
Jimmy Abramson was a different story entirely.
Randy waited outside the locker room until the jocks started spilling out,
laughing and grunting. He smiled to himself thinking about how much his
dad would love the scene.
"Hey Jimmy! Jimmy," shouted Randy, running after a group of boys.
Jimmy turned around and watched the young boy, less than half of his own
weight, run up to him.
"Do I know you?"
"No, no. I'm Randy Taylor."
"Oh yeah, your old man's got that stupid show," smiled Jimmy. "Look, guys,
I'm 'Tim-the-tool-man-Taylor'." He dropped his gear bag and walked around
grunting and strutting like a monkey. His Neanderthal friends laughed and
hooted.
"Um, yeah, that's him. I guess it is kind of a dumb show."
"Not dumb, asshole. STUPID!"
"I guess you're right."
"Say it, needle dick. Say your old man's show is STUPID!"
"Not only is it stupid, only dorks and fuckin' faggots watch it!" Randy
didn't like trashing his dad, but he felt Tim would forgive him, if he knew
the reason.
"Damn, you got a dirty mouth for such a little shit."
Randy decided to play all his cards at once. "Well, asshole, if you had a
brain in that thick skull you would be able to tell that I'm not that
little, but I guess jerking off every day has made you retarded."
The other jocks looked dumb struck. Then one of them started to snicker
and the others followed. Jimmy really was slow. It took a moment for him
to realize that the comment had been directed at him. He actually started
to laugh with the others before the synapses finally clicked and he started
towards Randy.
"I'm going to waste you. You may be a little shit, but you've got a big
mouth."
Randy gulped as the sun was blotted out by Jimmy's hulk.
"Give it your best shot dickhead. I've taken down better than you."
Jimmy paused in front of Randy. The others looked on, puzzled. No one had
ever stood up to Jimmy. It was insane. He could kill anyone he chose; any
kid, teacher, or parent. It didn't matter. Now here was this 90 pound
punk dancing around him with his fists raised, ready to duke it out.
"What?" was all Jimmy's feeble mind could muster.
"Try to listen next time, anus breath. I said take your best shot. Go
ahead. You better make the first one count 'cause you won't be getting
another ."
Randy jabbed in Jimmy's direction and threw in a couple of fairly
convincing karate moves. Jimmy stepped back to try and comprehend the
situation. Here was this little bobcat, striking and kicking at him,
seemingly unafraid of *him*, Jimmy Abramson. Something must be wrong.
Jimmy looked at his friends who just shrugged their shoulders.
"Cool it, squirrel. What do you want, anyway?"
"Well, if you had waited five more seconds before talking I would've told
you," said Randy settling down. "Maybe if you stopped to think once in a
while you wouldn't be the oldest freshman on record."
Jimmy bristled, but he still wasn't sure about the loud-mouthed kid. What
if the kid had some weird superman strength or something and beat the shit
out of him. He would never live that one down.
"O.k., o.k., I'm listening now," said Jimmy, backing away to a safe
distance.
Randy threw in a roundhouse kick and stopped in front of Jimmy again.
"All I wanted to say was that you played great in practice today. I've
been watching you for two weeks now and I think you're the best one on the
team. You might even have a shot at the pros."
"Huh?" Again Jimmy's brain couldn't assimilate that much information all
at once.
"I said you play GREAT ball! You're a natural!"
"Uh, thanks, I think," Jimmy finally stammered. His friends didn't know
what to make of the cute little kid who had backed down Jimmy. The kid had
the balls no one else ever had. No one.
"Walk with me for a minute," Randy motioned to Jimmy, "I'd really like to
talk to you."
"What for?" Jimmy still wasn't sure about the kid. He might be dangerous.
"Just come here. What's the matter, you chicken?" Randy taunted.
"Fuck you," Jimmy replied moving towards Randy.
"Cool it big fella. I'm here to help you."
The boys were far enough away from the group that they couldn't be over
heard.
"Why don't you tell your friends you'll see them later. I'll make it worth
your while." Randy pressed a twenty dollar bill into Jimmy's paw. Jimmy
fingered the bill, not sure at all about what was happening.
"Is this real?"
"No I printed it up in shop class, you dumb fuck."
Jimmy didn't react to the insult, this time. Randy was still high on
adrenaline. He couldn't believe that Jimmy hadn't killed him right there
and ripped his head off to kick between the goal posts. Jimmy yelled back
to his friends to go on without him and he and Randy walked down the steps
to sit in the first row of bleachers.
"What's so fuckin' important that you're giving me $20 for?"
"Don't end a sentence with a preposition, Jimmy."
"Huh?"
"Never mind."
"Listen kid, I'm leaving unless you start saying something I can
understand." Jimmy was getting impatient. Head games were the only type
of game that he couldn't play and this kid was sure playing some weird head
games.
"Just shut up dick-lick," Randy growled, and surprisingly Jimmy listened.
"I've got a little deal to propose."
"What do I have to do?" interjected Jimmy. Randy silenced him with a
glance this time.
"Well Lenny, er Jimmy, I'll get to that in a minute. Let me tell you what
I'm going to do for you first."
Randy spent the next few minutes explaining, in simple language, about how
he wasn't going to waste his time tutoring Jimmy, he was just going to do
his homework for him. Also he would write out cheat sheets for all of his
tests and do all of his reports and final projects. If there was anything
that Jimmy needed, cash, alcohol, drugs - Randy could provide that too.
All of that sounded great to Jimmy, especially the school work. Some booze
and pot for the weekends might help loosen up some of his dates. What
bothered him was what the little fuck wanted in return.
"It's no different than a chick," Randy offered.
"It's fucking gay, man! I'm not a faggot."
"I know you're not a faggot, Jimmy. The faggot's not the one who *does*
it. It's the one who *gets* it. That's why he wants you to be the one who
does it, because you're the biggest stud in school. Everyone knows that."
"This is too weird for me. I don't care if it's just like doing a chick.
I don't want to."
"Well, I can't make you do anything, but you're sure going to look stupid
if you have to be a freshman *again*."
Jimmy thought that one over for a while. As long as no one found out, what
was the harm. The kid's brother was a fag and the kid was just lining up
dates for him. It wasn't like he was going to enjoy himself or anything.
He'd just fuck the kid and that would be that. He thought about the relief
he would get from not having to think about homework, tests, or semester
projects anymore.
"Sure, o.k. I'll do it, but if you tell anyone I swear I'll kill you."
"Sure you will Jimmy. Whatever." Randy smiled. Everything was happening
better than he could ever have planned. "I'll let you know when he's
ready. Like I said, he's real shy."
"Yeah, yeah, but you still gotta start doing my homework now. Right?"
"No problem. I'll come over to your place every afternoon."
Randy extended his hand to cement the deal. Jimmy's hairy claw completely
covered Randy's hand in return.
II.
Randy finished wiping Brad's funk from Mark's bruised bottom. He never
told Mark what he had planned for Brad. There was no reason to complicate
his life even more. Plus if it didn't go off the way he planned, Mark
might not be able to handle the disappointment.
"It's going to be o.k.," Randy consoled his little brother. He lightly
stroked Mark's hair to calm him down and his hand came up wet with semen
and feces. He forced back his gag reflex and wiped his hand on the
stinking rag. He stuffed his rag back into his baseball glove and returned
to bed. Mark continued to weep into his pillow until exhaustion finally
overcame him and he fell asleep. Randy stayed awake all night going over
and over his plans. Tomorrow was Friday and his mom and dad were going
away for the weekend. It would be their first weekend alone with no
parents or sitter. Not even Al. Just Brad in charge. Wilson was always
next door, but he had been asked not to look in unless called for.
Tim and Jill were giving Brad a chance to prove that he was ready for some
responsibility. Jill was so proud of the way Brad had been doing his own
laundry and keeping his new room spotless that she felt comfortable letting
him watch his little brothers. Her only worry was about the problems her
two youngest sons were causing. Little did she know that Randy was being
forced to wash Brad's clothes and Mark had made himself sick with worry
over his obsession to please Brad and cleaned Brad's room any time his
older brother even looked cross-eyed at him. Mark hoped that his feeble
offerings would somehow temper the brutality of Brads "sessions" with him,
but they never seemed to help.
Randy woke up with his mother shaking him.
"Wake up, Randy! What am I going to do with you? I swear, it's like
trying to move a mountain to get you out of bed."
"It's more like moving a mountain when you have to climb the stairs you
cow," Randy muttered.
"What did you say to me?"
"Nothing."
Jill slapped his butt as she left the room. "Breakfast in five minutes
boys," she yelled behind her.
Randy yanked on some clothes and went over to help Mark. He checked out
Mark's butt. It was still a swollen, disgusting knot of abused flesh.
"How does it look?" Mark asked.
"I think it's getting better," lied Randy.
Randy helped Mark dress. As he was tying his shoes Brad walked in.
"Hope you guys are ready for a fun weekend," he teased, "I'm saving you
something thick and sticky," he said to Mark, rubbing the bulge in his
crotch. "If you're real lucky I might let you sleep in my room. Then you
can have this *all* night." Brad dropped the front of his pants and
revealed his drooling, half-hard, penis. He flexed his ass muscles and his
cock jumped rudely. Mark turned white with terror.
"Put your brain away, Brad, we've all seen it before," said Randy.
Brad came up to Randy and pushed him back onto the bed. He pushed his
penis into Randy's cheek, making a sticky impression.
"Keep talking, *little* brother, and you might be tasting this. I'm
getting kinda tired of Mark's whining. I bet you could take the whole
thing and not even cry." He pressed his glans into Randy's eye socket and
then slapped him on the cheek with it.
"Don't forget to put it away before you go down to breakfast, Einstein.
Mom might mistake it for a sausage and cook it."
"That's it, smart ass. You're going to suck cock tonight." Brad
punctuated his threat with a punch in the arm. Randy recoiled slightly,
determined not to show Brad how much it really hurt.
"It won't be sucking as much as it will be picking my teeth, needle dick."
Randy regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth. Brad grinned and
feigned a punch at Randy's face. When Randy moved to block it Brad slapped
him in the balls. Randy jack-knifed as stars exploded in his eyes. He
gasped in excruciating pain.
"While you're down there you can clean my shoes, dork." Brad rubbed his
high-tops in Randy's face. "You used to be cool. Why are you on his side
now? He's just a little faggot. He likes it. He just rolls over when I
come in now. He wants me to do it."
"Yeah, Brad," Randy whispered, "Just like I asked you to hit me in the
nuts."
"Fuck both of you. Wait 'till mom and dad leave."
Mark sat dumbly on his bed watching his brother try to stand. Randy
finally struggled to his feet.
"Com'on Mark, lets go get breakfast."
Randy jumped out of his seat when the final bell rang. He rode his bike
straight over to the high school. He had to catch Jimmy before he started
practice. He decided to take a chance and go into the locker room.
He found the tall football lockers packed with players suiting up. He
waded through the sea of flesh, feeling hairy butts brush up against his
arm and seeing the huge cocks of the upper classmen. He found Jimmy
struggling into his jockstrap. His penis was half a foot long soft and had
a head that looked as big as Randy's fist. Randy swallowed hard imagining
what it must look like angry.
"Hey squirrel, what's happening?"
Randy didn't really like being called "squirrel" but it was something that
Jimmy liked, so he let it go.
"Everything's cool, Jimmy, but it's time."
"Yeah?"
"Yup. Try to come over about 7:00 p.m. He should be ready by then."
"Quiet down!" Jimmy hushed Randy, "let's not spread it around, o.k.?"
Randy smiled. It hadn't taken much to convince Jimmy that Brad was a real
flamer and craved a big dick up his ass. Jimmy didn't like it, but he
didn't really have a choice if he wanted to become a Sophomore this
lifetime. Randy had convinced him it was just like doing a girl, only he
didn't have to buy dinner first.
"Don't be late, or Brad will get nervous and I'll be pissed."
"Stay cool, squirrel, I'll be there. I owe you that." The punk was
keeping his end of the bargain, but Jimmy just didn't trust the little
shit.
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~Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
~From: [email protected] (Jack in the Box)
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Organization: Anonymous contact service
~Reply-To: [email protected]
~Date: Sat, 27 Aug 1994 21:42:23 UTC
~Subject: "Family Disturbance" A Home Improvement story ch 3 (m/m/m,pedo,nc)
~Lines: 475
III.
"And it better be good. Just like mom makes it." Those were Brad's last
words before he ran outside to play, leaving Randy in the kitchen to cook
dinner. Randy could barely contain his smile. Everything was going
according to plan. When he got home he started an argument about dinner
with his half-witted, rapist, brother. With threats of sexual violence
Randy let Brad "win" the argument about who would do the cooking. Randy
had suggested Brad's favorite meal, meatloaf, to make sure he ate a ton of
it.
Meatloaf was no big deal for Randy. He didn't particularly like to cook,
but could, if required. He took the eggs and hamburger out of the
refrigerator and then headed up stairs. He stopped in to see Mark.
"Hey, Mark, do me a favor. If Brad tells you to come eat - don't. Tell
him you'll puke on him, if you have to, just don't eat the meatloaf."
Mark looked up from his pillow, "why not?"
"Because it's all for Brad. I want him to get real full and then maybe
he'll fall asleep before he visits you tonight."
Mark brightened at the thought of his ass having a day of rest. Randy
tickled him and he giggled slightly, some of the color coming back into his
face. Randy slipped out, leaving Mark with some slight hope of not being
violated that night.
Randy entered his parents bathroom and went right to the medicine chest.
Last week at the library Randy had looked up all the prescriptions in the
Physician's Desk Reference. He was surprised to learn that his mom had
been heavily sedated at more than one point. He chose several of the
"mother's-little-helpers." Brad was a pig, he added another one of the
tiny sleeping pills. He didn't want to take a chance that he and Mark
couldn't overpower him.
Back down stairs he opened the capsules and ground up the pills. In mixing
the meatloaf, Randy made sure the bulk of the drugs were towards one end of
the pan. That way he could eat some, if he had to, and Brad would still
get a full dose with only two slices.
Randy put the loaf on to bake and went into the garage looking for
something to restrain Brad. He wasn't sure it he'd have to tie Brad up or
not, but he figured that at least a gag would be necessary and he wanted to
be prepared for anything. Randy grabbed a tennis ball for good measure.
That was something he was sure would fit in Brad's big mouth.
After hiding everything under the couch Randy checked to see if the
batteries in the video camera were finished charging and loaded a fresh
tape. Brad would be paying for this one for a very long time, thought
Randy. The timer went off and Randy pulled out a perfect meatloaf. It
even looked better than mom's. Randy had put half a box of brown sugar on
top before he put it in to bake, ensuring that Brad would wolf it down.
Randy set the table and poured milk for himself and Brad. He sliced the
meatloaf after taking out the toothpick he had used to mark the spiked
side. He placed the two "high-octane" slices on Brad's plate and the
opposite end on his own. Brad wouldn't be suspicious, since he knew that
Randy liked the end slice, also Brad was an idiot, he wouldn't notice if
Randy was eating shoe leather. Randy checked on Mark one more time and
then went out to get Brad for dinner.
"Dinner is served, your highness," Randy said with a flourish.
"Hey guys," Brad boasted, "my dickhead brother cooked dinner." The other
boys laughed at Randy as Brad boasted about all the work he made his little
brothers do.
"It's getting cold," Randy said dryly.
"God, you've got a regular bitch for a little brother," one boy laughed.
"Yeah, but she sure can do laundry," answered Brad, patting Randy on the
ass. The boys howled with laughter as Randy turned bright red. Brad
pushed Randy towards the house and kept trying to trip him all the way up
the steps.
Randy bit his tongue. He wasn't about to take a chance on pissing off Brad
this late in the game. He pointed to the table and Brad smiled broadly,
reveling in his command. They both sat down and Brad sniffed at the plate.
"You better not have put any Ex-Lax in here or I'll kick your ass."
"No, Brad, no Ex-lax," Randy said truthfully.
Randy couldn't help himself, he was riveted to Brad's movements. Brad cut
a small slice of meatloaf and brought it up to his mouth. He paused and
looked at his fork. Randy's heart leaped into his throat. Brad put the
fork down and looked at Randy.
"I should do you right now," Brad said stone-faced.
Randy couldn't speak. He began to feel sick.
"You thought I wouldn't notice? I'm not the fuckin' dork in this house,
remember?"
Randy felt his world crashing down on him. He couldn't think fast enough
to say anything . It was all going into slow motion. Brad was going to
fuck him, or worse and the weeks of planning, the money, Jimmy's homework,
everything; it was all for nothing.
"Brad, I, I, uh..." Randy stumbled.
"Shut up, dickhead. Just get me the ketchup."
Randy came to the realization that Brad's whole scene had been because
Randy had forgotten to put the ketchup bottle on the table. Randy almost
dove for the refrigerator to get the condiment.
He spent the next fifteen minutes watching Brad wolf down enough meatloaf
to feed three people. Randy watched with a sick fascination and thought
that Brad was turning into one of the boys in the movie "Lord of the
Flies." Randy noticed how muscular Brad had become and for the first time
was truly afraid of his big brother.
"Get me a beer, dick breath," ordered Brad.
Randy knew that some of the drugs he fed Brad would become more potent
under the influence of alcohol, but there was no denying Brad any vice now.
Randy popped the top on a Miller Lite, Tim's favorite brew, and slid it
down the table to Brad. The oldest Taylor boy chugged the beer and slammed
the empty bottle down on the table.
"Nice going, bitch," complemented Brad. A loud belch followed by a fart
erupted from Brad's satisfied body.
"Well, I aim to please," smiled Randy, wondering when Brad would start to
get woozy.
"Now for dessert," said Brad standing. He belched again and turned towards
Randy. Brad fumbled at his belt and started to undo his pants. Randy had
expected that Brad would be out cold before he had time to think of sex.
Oh, man, this was too gross to imagine, thought Randy. Brad stepped out of
his pants. Randy could make out the thick ridge of his erection under the
cotton briefs. At the tip a wet spot spread out where Brad's juices had
flowed out in anticipation of breaking in Randy to the wonderful world of
brother-sex.
Brad stepped out of his shorts and his boner waved in front of him. The
small tuft of hair at its base glistened, oily, from the sweat of his
earlier football game. A drop of pre-seminal fluid dribbled to the floor
as Brad approached Randy. Randy felt ready to throw up. Brad smiled
menacingly.
"Now it's time to shut up that smart mouth."
Randy felt helpless. He couldn't move, his fear was so great. Brad held
his penis an inch from Randy's face and squeezed out another drop of juice.
It dripped off the tip and landed on the back of Randy's hand, which was
fidgeting nervously in his lap. Randy looked down at the clear liquid and
started to breath heavily.
Brad pressed his penis against Randy's lips and slid his length in easily.
Randy felt like he was in a dream as Brad forced his dick in until the
acrid, sweaty pubic hairs were pressed into his nose. Brad's balls were
hanging on his chin. the older brother started pistoning into the younger
ones mouth. He grabbed two handfuls of Randy's silky hair and forced
himself deeper into him. Randy was resigned to his fate. He tried to
distance himself from what was happening, but the brutal beating his throat
was taking kept bringing him back to reality. He felt Brad hesitate and
change his rhythm. He had learned, watching Mark get pounded, that this
probably meant Brad was about to come. Randy was familiar with the thick,
pearly, fluid that Brad loved to inject into Mark's ass. He had cleaned
quite a bit of it off and out of his sibling's anus. Brad jerked again and
Randy waited for the inevitable surge of liquid. He closed his eyes when
Brad bucked again and hoped it would be quick. Brad's dick slid out of his
mouth and he stumbled back. Randy looked up to see his brother rubbing his
eyes.
"I feel, uh, feel, uh, uh, uh..." Brad said weakly and trailed off as he
fell heavily against the table before sliding to the floor. Randy was
quick enough to catch Brad's head before it hit the floor.
"Now we don't want you to get hurt, do we big brother?" Randy said to the
slumbering, half-naked, Brad. Randy spit into the sink and grabbed some
orange juice to wash the sharp taste of Brad out of his mouth. He pushed
the chairs out of the way and pulled Brad out of the kitchen and into the
living room. Brad's penis was still slightly hard and glistened with his
fluids and Randy's saliva.
Dragging Brad across the rug had caused his shirt to roll up to his
armpits. Randy removed it completely, leaving Brad bare-ass naked. Brad's
penis had shrunk back to it's normal size and Randy gave it a savage flick,
right on the head. Brad's penis flopped, but Brad didn't budge. Randy was
satisfied. He didn't really want Brad out cold, but drug dosages were a
tough call, especially with Neanderthals like Brad. This wouldn't make for
the best video, but it would still be enough to keep Brad at bay for quite
a while, maybe forever.
Randy dispensed with the restraints and gag. He checked Brad's pulse and
respiration. He was breathing and had a heart beat. Randy wondered if he
really would have cared if he had killed his brother. He rolled Brad
around some just to get an idea of what it would take to get him into
position. Brad must have weighed 135 pounds. Dragging him around was no
problem, but picking him up was impossible. Randy struggled to get Brad's
torso up on the couch. He left Brad's butt sticking out comically. Randy
spread his brother's cheeks and recoiled at the sight of the shit smeared
all over. Brad's sense of hygiene left a lot to be desired. Randy
selected a 12-inch cinnamon scented candle from the drawer in the kitchen.
"I'm being kind to you Brad," Randy said to his slumbering brother, "I'm
going to loosen you up before Jimmy reams you out and cross-threads you."
Randy was starting to like this. He pressed the blunt end of the candle
against Brad's opening and pushed. Brad's anus winked open and Randy fed
the full length of the candle in.
"Nice going, big brother. You took that like a pro!" Randy flashed on an
idea and twisted Brad's head around so his face would be in the picture.
Brad focused the video camera from the tripod and framed the scene of a
drooling Brad with a candle rammed up his ass. Randy skipped into the
kitchen and retrieved a box of matches. He lit Brad's candle and stepped
back to survey his scene. Looking through the viewfinder he congratulated
himself on a perfect setup. Just to add a little action to the video Randy
stuck his arm into the scene and slowly withdrew the full length of the
candle. It was smeared with some funk from inside of Brad, but it was
worth it to get this on Brad. He held the candle up and waited for the
flame to grow and then rammed the lit end into Brads anus. Randy wished
that he hadn't done it instantly. He was sinking to Brad's level,
something he hoped he would never do. As much as he hated Brad he promised
himself he wouldn't torture him. This was about getting Mark's life back
and giving Brad a taste of his own medicine.
There was a heavy knock at the door. Randy ran to answer it. Jimmy
Abramson stumbled in, drunk. Jimmy thought that he could go through with
it straight, but chickened out at the last minute and polished off a pint
of vodka.
Randy wasn't sure if he could use Jimmy as effectively wasted. There
wasn't any way to regroup now, so he would make the best of the situation.
He dragged Jimmy in to the living room and pushed him into a chair.
"What's wrong with him?" Jimmy slurred.
"Well, he's got a few problems we don't talk about."
"Besides being a fag?"
"That's the least of Brad's problems," sighed Randy, "he's a narcoleptic."
"Drugs, huh?"
"No. Actually it means that at certain times he just falls asleep and we
can't wake him up. With Brad it happens under times of stress. He was
really excited about getting fucked for the first time and when you knocked
on the door he passed out."
"So it's off? I can go?" said Jimmy rising from the chair.
"No, Brad made me promise that I'd have you go through with it anyway and
get it on tape." Randy patted the camcorder.
Jimmy didn't like the idea of being taped butt-fucking some little kid, but
Randy reassured him that he wouldn't videotape Jimmy's face.
"Get naked, stud," Randy urged.
Randy helped Jimmy get his shoes off and unsnapped his pants for him.
Jimmy slipped them off and yanked down his underwear. His penis flopped
lazily onto his leg. Jimmy raised his arms and Randy stripped off his
shirt. Randy helped Jimmy to his feet and positioned him behind Brad.
"Just think that his ass is a juicy, tight, twat," offered Randy.
Jimmy rubbed his fat cock at the hairless door of Brad's ass. He started
to grow, and grow, and grow. As Randy watched unbelievably as Jimmy's
penis grew to a full eight inches with a very fat circumference. He mashed
the rubbery head deeper and deeper into Brad as Randy took the camera in
hand. He made sure to keep Brad's face in every shot. Jimmy didn't waste
any time in boning Brad to the hilt. He started to pound the younger boy
forcing him into the soft cushions of Jill's favorite couch.
"O.k., roll him over and push his knees up to his chest," Randy directed.
Jimmy complied and hung his body over Brads limp form, fucking him
mercilessly. Randy zoomed in on the asshole of his older brother,
impossibly stretched to its limits and beginning to tear. A film of blood
coated Jimmy's rigid pole.
Over the next hour Jimmy performed every sex act that one male can do to
another. Brad stayed limp during the whole ordeal. Jimmy came four times
inside and on Brad. Randy captured every gruesome cum shot and lustful
thrust that Jimmy placed. Jimmy passed out from a combination of his
release and the liquor. Randy used the time to change the tape and check
out Brad.
Brad's butthole was stretched open and leaked Jimmy's seed onto his legs.
when Randy returned with a sponge Brad had stirred. There was little
chance he would become completely conscious, but it would be interesting to
watch Brad get fucked when he knew what was happening. Randy stuck the
candle back up Brad's ass and twisted it around. Brad squirmed and slurred
something unintelligible.
Half and hour later Brad was barely lucid and Randy slapped him awake.
Brad couldn't stand, but he could open his eyes, though focusing would have
to wait for another day.
"Brad? Brad? Does your butt hurt? It should because you're the new
butt-slut for the football team! Most of them have left already, but
Jimmy's still here. He loves your tight butt. He's already fucked you
eight times and he's going to stay the weekend. He wants you to be his new
girl friend. you can even go to the prom with him."
Randy didn't know if Brad could understand him, but hoped something would
sink in through the fog. Randy slapped him again and Brad grunted. Randy
pinched Brad's glans and Brad tried to sloppily push him away. Randy
pistoned the candle into his brother again causing Brad to moan and try to
pull away. Randy helped Brad to stand and leaned him against a wall. He
was surprised that Brad was beginning to get hard.
"Hey Brad, why don't you play with your dick?" Randy said as a joke. Brad
obediently reached down and began to stroke his cock. Randy was intrigued.
"Brad, you like to have big dicks up your ass, right?"
"Suuure," Brad slurred.
"You need to jerk off real bad, Brad, think about Jennifer sucking your
dick while you jerk off."
Brad proceeded to use the slickness running down his ass crack to jerk off
with. He ejaculated heavily after about ten strokes spraying semen onto
the coffee table.
"Now lick your hands clean."
Brad lapped at his hands until every trace of the many fluids present on
his body was gone. Randy smiled thinking about the shit, blood, and semen
that Brad had just eaten.
Waking up Jimmy wasn't too hard. Randy twisted one of his nipples and
Jimmy jumped up.
"Hey, big guy, Brad's awake and he wants to feel your huge dick in his
mouth now."
"What a fag. I'm tired, I don't know if I can come again."
Randy pushed Brad over to Jimmy and planted him between the stud's knees.
"Brad, you want to suck a big spermy cock, don't you?"
Brad nodded lazily and rested his head on Jimmy's thigh. Randy picked up
Jimmy's sticky dick and fed it into Brad's mouth. Jimmy perked right up
and started to engorge immediately. Brad noticed that he was having a
problem breathing and tried to pull back from the advancing monster. Randy
stood behind him and pushed his head back down, giving him no option other
than to suck.
Ten minutes of abuse to Brad's mouth saw Jimmy spray a watery load of semen
onto Brad's face, orchestrated by Randy, who captured it all on tape. Brad
cleaned the juice off his face and ate it at Randy's urging.
Randy wondered if he should take a poke at Brad himself. Just for the
humiliation factor. No, no, he thought. Randy didn't want to be that
involved, besides Brad was beginning to look a little rough. He was pretty
grubby and semen covered. Randy was able to get Jimmy to carry Brad up to
his bedroom before he left. Randy inserted half the candle length in
Brad's ass before tucking him in.
"Sleep tight, big brother, tomorrow's a whole new day," he kissed Brad on
the forehead and left the room.
After copying the tape several times and hiding them in different places
Randy left one copy in the VCR with a note on the TV reading "Brad. Things
have changed a little. Watch the tape." Then he took a shower and cleaned
up the many different things that had been spilled or squirted on him that
night. When he went into his bedroom it was obvious that Mark had been
asleep for quite a while. The kid was exhausted from worry. But that was
going to change. Randy thought about sleeping late and maybe having Brad
serve him and Mark breakfast in bed. Yeah, that would blow Mark's mind.
Randy snapped off the light and climbed in bed. He felt alive again. He
didn't hate the idea of waking up tomorrow. He looked forward to it. Like
mom and dad had always told him: hard work pays off. Randy smiled to
himself and tried to imagine Brad wondering how he got a candle up his ass
and then stumbling downstairs to find the video. Those were happy thoughts
for Randy.
Epilogue
Randy awoke when he heard the explosion. At least he thought it was an
explosion, maybe it had been a dream. He looked up at Mark, who was wide
awake.
"What was that?" asked Mark, sleepily.
"Not sure," answered Randy.
Randy got out of bed and pulled on his pants, not bothering with a shirt.
Something seemed wrong. He knew that Brad would be up soon and he didn't
want to spoil the surprise of the video tape by walking in while Brad was
watching it. He started down the stairs quietly and stopped. It looked
like there was some kind of haze hanging in the air. Randy couldn't
identify it until he caught a whiff.
Tim liked powerful toys and his favorite one was his .50 caliber Action
Express pistol. Each of the cartridges held enough powder to fire 15 of
the bullets that were used in the boys shared .22. Randy knew what had
happened immediately. Brad, the dumbshit, was playing with dad's gun. He
knew he wasn't supposed to touch it, but he was so full of himself he
probably thought he was God. Shit, he was so stuck up now he might not
have even noticed the candle up his ass! Now Brad had capped off a round
in the house. Man, what an asshole. Dad was going to kill him.
Randy tried to sneak into the living room through the kitchen, but there
was crap thrown everywhere. It looked like Brad had freaked out when he
found the tape and had thrown a bunch of hamburger all over the kitchen.
He must have thrown some plates around too because there were little white,
curved, slivers all over the floor too. Randy thought it was odd that
there were no big pieces of china any where, just small ones. Brad must
have thrown the stuff really hard. Randy backed out of the kitchen and
picked one of the china slivers out of his foot. That fucker, Brad, was
going to really get it. Randy rounded the dining room table and could see
Brad on the couch. The TV was on and the vcr was frozen on the scene of
Jimmy ejaculating all over Brad's face. Randy smirked, Brad had obviously
lost it and started to shoot up the place out of frustration. Yeah, Randy
had won this time.
"Oh, Bradley," taunted Randy walking in front of Brad, "would you like some
*cream* in your coffee todaaaaaaaa..."
Randy's voice trailed off as he noticed the spray of blood on the couch.
He followed it up to Brad's face, or rather what remained of Brad's face.
The hollow point had dug in immediately and expanded to its fullest
possible diameter, ripping half of Brad's head off and spraying it behind
him into the kitchen. Randy's shock was doubled by the realization that
the mess in the kitchen was really Brad's brain matter splattered across
the new cabinet fronts in Jill's kitchen and the china shards were really
tiny slivers of Brad's skull scattered lightly across the floor.
Randy threw up on the coffee table. He heaved until he was dry. He
approached what was left of his brother and removed the huge steel weapon
from his hand. Brad's body slipped down in the couch spilling the
remaining contents of his skull onto the floral-print cushions. The remote
control bounced out of his other hand and hit the floor sending the vcr
into "play" mode. Thick ropes of semen sprayed out of Jimmy and coated
Brad's face. Randy looked at the video and then back at Brad's body and he
could piece together just how much of Brad's head was gone. It was truly
amazing how much damage the gun had done. Brad was basically headless with
only a small shell of his skull remaining. Only a few fragments of flesh
clung to it and his jaw hung down much further than normal. Randy could
hear his own laughter on the video tape as Jimmy smeared his goo across
Brad's face under Randy's direction.
Randy raised the gun and fired at the TV. The noise was deafening. A
tongue of flame shot out all the way to the TV and the picture tube
exploded. Randy was pushed back onto the couch as the big pistol recoiled,
breaking his wrist. He barely noticed the pain as he was thrown against
Brad's lifeless body. His pants were instantly soaked with his brother's
blood.
"Well, asshole, you really fucked this one up," Randy said, not completely
sure if he was talking to himself or to Brad.
Randy looked at the gun in his broken hand and moved it to his right hand.
The slide had slammed home, ready for another shot. There was a live round
in the chamber. His finger curled onto the trigger as he struggled to
raise the barrel.
Mark couldn't wait after the second shot went off. He had to know what was
happening. Maybe Brad had shot Randy? He could run to Wilson's house to
get help. Maybe mom and dad could come home early.
Mark reached the bottom of the stairs as gunfire shattered the morning
stillness for one last time.
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GU -d+ H+ s+:+++>s+:++ g+ p1 au- a19 w+ v--- C-(+++) UL P? L+ !3
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u+(**) h++(!) f !r n--- y+(**) did you get all that?
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