Tied To My Step-brother
This shit was more than I could bear--Jonathon had grabbed me in what was, I thought, just a game, but now my hands are cinched with ordinary clothesline and I'm bound at my feet. Worse still, he's tied me to a straight-backed wooden kitchen chair and gagged me with a torn cloth tied at the back of my head. If Jonathon weren't my step-brother my panic would be total. Writhing in the chair, hearing it squeaking, hearing my own pained attempts to tell Jonathon to let me loose only added to my pathetic mess. God, I even needed desperately to take a shit.
Jonathon must just be playing with me. He's wrapped his arms around me and is blowing his hot breath into my ear. And sometimes whistling, sometimes hum-singing this is my eighteen year old brother trying to give his eighteen year old step brother some sort of challenge. As I try to see him and what he's doing, all I can see of him is his mouth with large, firm lips blowing hot air on my neck and in my ear. His Nordic traits were evident both in his physical strength, but also in his height and arrogant blonde hair.
I knew he hated having a fag step-brother, but I never expected that the first time my Mom and Rolf left us on our own that he would do anything. He's just playing. No, he's not! His hands are moving all over me. I'm wearing my bitch-tight jeans and an extra small white Tee shirt. I gotta shit and he's working his hands down around my crotch. It doesn't feel good like it should because I'm out of my mind with fear about what he has in mind. Is he a killer fag-hater?
"Hey bitch-brother, I bet you'd like to suck my cock wouldn't you? You've been wearing my underwear. I bet you you'd really like to have a little sex party with me? You like sex, don't you? Just blink twice if you like sex. Yeah, yeah, just what I thought. I'm going to take the gag out and you can tell me what you want to do. I don't think you have the guts to do anything. But you tell me what you want to do and if it sounds like fun, we can work a deal."
"Christ Jonathon, I'll do anything, but I gotta take a shit bad!"
He slapped my face sharply left and right, not so as to do any damage, but to let me feel the pain and humiliation of having to ask to take a dump.
"That's my answer. I need a fag to kiss me. Give me your lips to taste brother."
I saw him face to face and realized what this was all about; he was gay too, but couldn't deal with it and he was trying to hate me for it. He was trying, but his lust for me was winning over his hate for himself. Bound tight as I was I was free to give him the one thing that would free him and me--he got from me a fearless and passionate kiss.
What a kiss! The sensation of being in bondage was total, yet it was that bondage that allowed me to focus my whole being into what my mouth could do for Jonathon. It was an awkward, painful kiss because of my being tied up and because he had to come at me bent at an odd angle, but Oh! it was wonderful! Yes, I had worn his underwear and yes I wanted to have sex with him! But as our mouths worked wet magic things began to change. I was I and Jon was the guy he was. Let us need each other just the way we need each other!
As he kissed me he loosened some of the ropes and with that loosening my cock got hard. His eyes were losing their strutting anger and they began to say what he couldn't bring himself to say just yet, that he needed my love and respect. His eyes had power in them, but right now they had a kind of lustfulness that was ashamed and worried.
As soon as my hands were free I slapped him hard, right and left. Having done that, he and I were free to touch each other's genitals. When I grabbed his cock, his mouth dropped open and his eyes became instantly sex-glazed in the wonder of his first-ever feelie.
"Jon, you're the one who is going to get a big treat today. Come to the bathroom with me. I need to get cleaned out and then you, bro, are going to fuck your brother. What do you say to that? You know I need that cock of yours in me and I'm gonna have it."
"Yeahhhhh. Yeah, I like it. So, you really are a fag!"
"No, I'm your bitch and you, Jon, better fuck me hard or I'll tell Mommy and Daddy on you!"
Jon gave me two quick slaps, right and left, and drew my mouth to his. He liked being in control. We sucked each other's mouths and, as I was soon to learn, this boy could really fuck hard.