Cousins Take Charge

Cousins Take Charge 4

Category – gay authoritarian – teen (legal age), role reversal, bondage, discipline, `forced' exercise,

Preamble

As stated before, this is a `slow-developer' story planned over a number of episodes, detailing Ben's gradual but inevitable descent into subservience and humiliation, so won't be to everyone's tastes.

All the normal caveats apply regarding fantasy versus reality – for instance some of the practices described would NOT be safe in real life. Similarly, in real life, if we are lucky enough to come across good bdsm playmates, we should value and respect them – they are not always that easy to find!

As always, Nifty can do with donations: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html if you enjoy the service and want it to continue!

Thank you for the encouraging comments received so far (which act as a very good stimulus to continue what is proving to be a time-consuming activity!), and I hope you enjoy this episode! StrictSafeTop sst@linuxmail.org

Chapter Four

Gradually Ben became aware of hands massaging soothing cream into his sore ass as he moaned in contentment.

`Thank you, guys, that feels great.'

An afterthought – `Although, considering it's as sore as this because of you two, perhaps we should consider this a required follow-up.'

Hey,' laughed Rick, Don't forget you were asking for more at the end.'

Ben flushed and stammered. Now the climax was over, it was embarrassing to remember. He looked up at the camera, whose recording light was still blinking. He snarled at the unwinking eye. `Bastard!'

Rad handslapped his right cheek. A yelp and a writhe. `Careful there, Benny. Don't start getting too cute, there. You know where that'll get you.'

Ben sighed. `Yep, sorry, Sir.'

The twins continued their soothing massage, sending Ben drifting off into a confused reverie; events over the last couple of days had been moving so fast, he'd lost any kind of balance line – the twins had overset his normal confident world. Where was this going? How worried should he be? One part of him seemed happy to hand control over to the twins; `they're natural masters and it's easy to submit to them' he mused – and then his eyes jerked open. Where the hell had that thought come from?! Yet it clearly wasn't an unhappy thought; his groin moved involuntarily against the table as his excitement was making itself felt again.

Rick laughed and slapped him gently. `Enough of that, you sex-pot, you've got a lawn to finish, remember?!'

Ben groaned. He hadn't remembered, and the image of that horrible push-mower flashed into his brain.

Rick laughed again. `Actually, you've put on such a good show for us, that Mr Peebles is happy for you to finish with the normal mower. Don't forget to express your gratitude when you see him next!'

As Ben got up, Rad laughed and pointed at the table, still smeared with much of the results of Ben's orgasm. `Do much more of this, horn-dog, and we'll start making you licking it up!'

Ben locked eyes with Rad.

You-wouldn't.

You-better-believe-it.

Rad won the battle of wills (what a surprise!), Ben dropping his head, and blushing (seemed to be doing a lot of that recently!). Rad changed gear.

`Benny – lawn – now.'

Again, the swift change of pace leaving Ben unbalanced.

`Y-yes, Sir.'

With the decent mower, Ben was finished very quickly. By that time, Rick had gone with Mr Peebles to sort out the vidclips, leaving Rad to pick up a camera, order Ben to hose himself (and the table!) down, don his lycra pants, pick up the other camera, and follow him back next door.

`OK, Benny, half an hour relaxation in the pool, then I'm putting you back to work again.'

Just the assured arrogance in the last phrase was enough to set Ben tingling, but he set himself to enjoy the half-hour of freedom.

It was as though the old relationship had returned. Ben was once again the older stronger cousin able to dominate physically as if he had the upper hand. And yet... It was not the same. There was a confident look in Rad's eyes even when Ben was ducking his younger cousin. To Ben it seemed to say `let the boy have his fun for a bit, before we get back to the serious stuff, when he'll have to knuckle down'. And sure enough, at the half-hour, like a switch changing from light to dark,

Right, Benny, you'll remember you made a terrible job of the grass yesterday. You have one more chance to put it right, but there'll be a payback if you don't. For every blade of grass that's over three inches long by the time you've finished, there will be a punishment. And' Rad smiled grimly, it won't be the sort of punishment where you cum at the end! You have one hour – get to it!'

Just like that, Rad was the master again, Ben muttering `yes, Sir' like a beaten slave before running down to get the mower out. And he was running round the garden with the mower for the next hour, cutting and re-cutting every bit of the grass – he didn't want to find out the hard way what punishment Rad had in mind!

At the same time, Rick was working with Mr Peebles on the vidclips, and developing their working arrangement. Peebles was having great difficulty focussing on the work, trying to ensure that he behaved himself next to the virile confident teen. Rick's slim-lean tanned body, clad only in shorts, glistened gently, while the lad worked apparently unaware of his charms. But the distraction for Peebles was enormous – the unconscious stroking of a nipple while concentrating, the riding of the shorts up the well-defined thigh, the sliding of the sinews under the skin on the tanned forearm – really, one wondered whether the lad was doing it on purpose!

On purpose? Of course he was! Rick was developing into a highly-accomplished flirt, using his charms to get what he wants; in this case a favourable working arrangement in terms of who does the work, income percentages, and so on. He was well aware that Mr Peebles' flustered state was not conducive to making a good deal, and took full advantage of that whilst still allowing his neighbour some benefits so that he wouldn't regret the arrangements at a later date. And hinting that Ben would be available on subsequent occasions was a great sweetener!

Peebles was an accomplished IT expert, and did his work well. It didn't take long for appropriate sites to be set up, passworded, referenced, and so on; they parted company well-satisfied with their efforts.

Ben was emptying the grassbox when Rad called him up to the patio, where Rick was also now sipping a cool drink. The twins' influence had grown to such an extent that, even without being told, Ben felt he ought to respond by trotting rather than walking up to them.

`OK, Benny, the grass is looking much better – that's as it should be. In a moment we're going to inspect your work, and trust me when I tell you it's in your interest to get every blade of grass out of the grassbox before we start. Off you go, and tell us when you're ready for the inspection.' And Rad nodded his dismissal, as though certain his older cousin would comply.

Which he did! After a bit of thorough work on the grassbox, he was joined by the twins for the inspection'. This consisted of the twins strolling the grass, Ben following with the mower, running the machine over any patches which were indicated to him. Having inspected' the grass, the twins made Ben tip the grassbox over a sheet on the patio, and count the blades of grass.

`How many, Benny?'

`Uh, twenty-three, Sir.'

Rad handed over a pair of tweezers. `OK, Benny, so you are to pluck, one-by-one, the same number of pubes, show each one to the camera and then eat them.'

Another of those speechless battles of wills.

You-don't-mean-it-please-don't-make-me-do-this.

Of-course-I-mean-it-and-you-are-going-to-do-it-now-or-else.

No surprise, of course, that Rad wins.

Ben sighs, `yes, Sir' and kneels in front of the camera.

He finds that plucking the hair doesn't really hurt. What does hurt is the degradation – showing the hair to the camera and then looking at the lens while – for fuck's sake! – he eats it! How gross is that! The disgusted expression on his face says it all.

Ben looks at the camera. Again, that unwinking eye is hypnotising. Come-on-Benny-now-the- next-one.

Yes-Sir. Ben breathes, plucks, displays. He pauses. Why the fuck is he doing this?

Benny-you-know-what-you-have-to-do-so-do-it.

Into the mouth, swallow it down.

What made it even worse was the apparent unconcern of the twins. They were sipping their drinks, giving each other the details of what they'd been doing whilst apart, chatting generally. It was assumed, seemingly, that Ben would get on with the task merely because he'd been so ordered.

A safe assumption, clearly; Ben was doing exactly that. Eating each hair was as disgusting as it was the first time – repetition wasn't making this easier. He struggled through each one, glaring at the camera.

But at last, the ordeal was over. He glanced at the twins, who were still chatting. He ground his teeth – his humiliation meant that little to them!

`I've finished, Sir.'

Rad looked up. `Are you absolutely certain you've done the right number, Benny. You know one of the viewers is bound to tell us if you've cheated, don't you?'

Ben flushed at this explicit reference to `viewers' – how many witnesses were there going to be to his degradation, for fuck's sake?! Then a moment of self-doubt. Was he certain he'd done the right number?

`Uh, I'm pretty sure, Sir.'

Rad's eyes narrowed in irritation. `Don't muck me about, Benny. I asked if you were absolutely certain – yes or no?'

Ben hung his head. He couldn't be absolutely certain.

`I'm sorry, Sir, I can't be certain.'

`So what should you do to be absolutely certain, Benny? You know what will happen if it turns out you've cheated, don't you?'

Fuck. Ben reddened again. `Uh, I should go on until I am certain, Sir?'

`Of course, you idiot – why do you need to ask, you dumb fuck?'

Ben swallowed. Why was he putting up with this treatment? Well, one answer was clear when he looked down. Against all reason, his erection was throbbing again. What kind of sick fuck was he?!

He sighed, grabbed the tweezers and plucked another hair...

Not until he had eaten another ten (!) hairs did he speak again.

`I've finished, Sir, and I'm certain I've done twenty-three.'

`Great – let's go and have lunch.'

This switching back to a `normal' relationship without warning was almost worse for Ben than the humiliation. Nothing was firm ground any more – just as soon as he got his balance, the twins turned things over again. He sighed, and got up from his knees.

Lunch, half hour in the pool, then an equally disorienting switch.

`Right, Benny, workout in the shed. Bring one of the cameras – let's go!'

No argument from Ben – he knows already when to just obey without question. As he's setting up in the shed,

`Hey guys, look what ol' Peebles has lent us!' Rick was displaying ... two riding crops!

Rad laughed.

Not so Ben!

Oh, c'mon, you are not serious! You cannot be thinking what I think you're thinking! I mean – he broke off after that confused sentence, then started again. `Listen, enough is enough! You can't be intending to use those on me!'

The twins said nothing – just stared at him – unnervingly.

He backed off a little. `Guys – please' he whispered.

Rad stared unsmilingly at him. `Benny, you have such a short memory. What happened the last time you were badly behaved?'

`Please, Rad – uh, Sir, please don't.'

Rad's voice hardened. `Answer the question, Benny, before things get worse. What happened.'

Ben swallowed. Uh, you distributed the vidclips, Sir.' He paused. Please, Sir...' he begged.

Rad was implacable.

`On your knees, Benny.'

Thump as Ben's knees hit the floor.

Benny, we are now going to hit you with these crops.' (Oh shit) But you have a choice. We could hit you hard or a little less hard. If you want `less hard', you need to put your hands on the back of your neck, apologise for your disgraceful outburst, and ask for the punishment you deserve. If the quality of your apology is acceptable, then we shall hit less hard. Otherwise... Speak to the camera.'

Ben placed his hands as directed, producing a pleasing effect of bunched biceps and taut abs. He looked at the camera – the lens glaring unwinkingly back.

Oh shit, here we are again.

Lens stares. Yes,-you-bad-boy-Benny,-here-we-are-again-because-you-keep-fucking-up.

I-know, I-know, I'm-really-sorry.

If-you-were-really-sorry,-Benny,-you'd-make-a-genuine-apology-–-and-ask-to-be-hit-hard.

Shit, oh-please, don't-make-me-say-that.

It's-very-simple,-Benny,-do-you-wanna-be-a-fuck-up,-dodging-and-diving,-or-are-you-going- to-man-up.-Make-the-decision!

Please!

Why-say-please,-Benny,-when-you-know-what-the-right-thing-is-to-do?

OK, OK, I'll-do-it, you-bastard.

Please, Sir, I'm really sorry for my stupid outburst – I want to show my apology is genuine, Sir, so please punish me hard cos I deserve it. Oh God!'

The twins looked at each other. Where did that come from?! But Rad shrugged, gestured to Rick, who lifted his crop...

Slam! Hard into the right buttock! Ben yelled, clutched his blazing ass cheek as he fell over, writhing on the floor. Through misty eyes he glared at the camera.

This-what-you-want, you-bastard? I'm-hurting – is-this-what-you-want?

Benny,-it's-not-what-I-want,-it's-what-you-deserve.-And-for-calling-me-bastard,-ask-for- another-one.

Oh shit.

Ben struggles up on his knees again.

`Thank you, Sir – please hit me again because I deserve it.'

Rad raises a surprised eyebrow, and also raises his crop.

Slam! No surprise – hard into the left one! Ben drops to the floor, writhing and moaning. He glares at the camera again.

Satisfied? Are-you-satisfied? Now-I'm-really-hurting.

Good-boy,-Benny,-well-done,-I'm-proud-of-you.

`Get up on your knees again, Benny, show your ass to the camera'.

On those pert globes were two red raised welts – they were clearly still hurting!

`Right, hop to it, Benny – we've wasted enough time.'

With a quiet `yes Sir' Ben got to his feet still rubbing at his sore glutes.

Rad grabbed his face and stared into his eyes.

I need to make something clear, Benny. This workout will be under our direction. If we feel you need to be motivated, we'll be using these' (brandishing the crop). We'll be making the judgement about what you can and can't do, so don't bother telling us you're tired or you can't do any more – you'll just be annoying us by wasting your breath and energy on something irrelevant.'

So it was very much `Benny' during the whole of the workout, with the twins directing his activities, and demanding more from him, both in terms of weights added, and reps. They would take turn-about doing exercise themselves, and standing over Ben, ensuring he performed to their satisfaction.

Interestingly, Ben knew in his own heart that this was producing his best workout ever. He knew that he wasn't good at self-motivation, and normally stopped each exercise too soon.

But now it was another five, Benny', crank out another ten, Benny', `Benny, gimme a couple more', way beyond the time he would have stopped any particular station. And just the thought of that crop loomed over him; he could still feel the sting!

At least his ass felt safe at the moment – he was doing benchpresses, and he'd reeled off an amazing number of reps – feeling really pleased with himself. He dropped the bar with a satisfying `clang'.

`Another ten, Benny.'

Ben blew out his breath. Could he do another ten? He wasn't sure. But Rad was standing over him with the crop, so he had no option. He gritted his teeth and pushed hard again. The sweat was running over him now, he was breathing hard, his muscles were pumping – a great vision of a jock under pressure. He managed five. He dropped the bar. He pushed up again – and the bar failed to move!

Smack! `Owwww!', Ben yelped as the crop slapped into his abs.

`C'mon, Benny, put some effort in!'

Ben grunted, pushed, struggled, as the bar slowly rose. Cords and sinews stood out rigid on his arms as he struggled against the weight, grunting in pain. Up, up, almost, almost... he couldn't quite lock his elbows, and the bar dropped again. Oh well, he'd done his best.

Not good enough. Rad grabbed Ben's hair, pulled his head forward to stare into Rad's eyes glaring back.

`Listen, dipshit! You're gonna get that bar up and hold it up for five seconds. And I'm gonna keep hitting you all over until you do. So get going!'

Ben groaned, grabbed the bar (smack!), started pushing (smack!), his arms trembling as they attempted the hopeless struggle (smack! keep going you useless piece of junk'), he couldn't do it! (smack! don't stop now, crapface!'), yet the bar was still rising slowly (smack! keep going, bastard'), yelling with the pain and effort (smack! push push push!'), muscles looking as though they're going to burst out of the skin (smack! give me some effort you wimp!'), arms shaking now (smack! call yourself a jock – push!), incredibly bar rising (smack! C'mon dipshit!), wow! he's got there! (smack! now hold it, hold it!'), lock elbows (smack! now keep it there'), yelling, yelling, Rad is calling out the count, shit, why is it so slow, he can't hold it!, (smack! don't you dare let go dipshit, wimp') he can't hold it!, Rad finally reaches `five and down', he yells as he drops the bar, gasping for breath. Groaning, he rolls off the bench onto the floor, curling up into foetus, hugging his hurt.

But the twins give him only a few minutes' rest before Rick takes over, slapping his butt with the crop. `C'mon, Benny, up you get, look at yourself in the mirror.'

Ben gazes at himself. His tanned torso is running with sweat – and covered with red slap- marks from the crop!

I look like a hot slave... fuck, where do I get these thoughts from.

In an attempt to defuse, he grins weakly at Rad.

`Looks as though you've done quite a number on me, uh, Sir.'

`Sure – and there's more to come unless you sharpen up!'

Ben looks at himself again. What will he look like with even more crop-welts? And why is his dick swelling at the thought?!

Rick slaps him lightly. `C'mon, Benny, take a chug of water, then next station.'

As the time ticked by, the twins drove Ben harder – much harder – than he'd ever driven himself before. Merciless, they used the crops to extract every ounce of effort from him. His pain meant nothing to them, apart from a tool to force him to put in the extra rep that he thought was impossible – would have been impossible without them goading him on. With the minimum of rest, they shoved him from station to station, plying their crops whenever necessary. Ben obeyed almost mindlessly – an early protest that he couldn't do any more had been forcefully quenched with a couple of hard blows from the crop – so that now his brain was an automaton, routing the twins' commands to his body, telling it what to do, ignoring the shrieks of protest from his muscles, involuntarily jerking from the crop-blows, but continuing to obey. His shaking body was close to collapse, but still the twins spurred him on, not hesitating to use the crops if that would make their jock cousin contribute the last iota of effort, only desisting when every muscle had been exhausted, when they knew they couldn't squeeze out any more, leaving their beaten broken boy on the floor.

Ben became aware that he was lying on the ground, gently moaning, but something was missing. Then he realises; the tormenting badgering had ceased – the crops had stopped flailing his tortured flesh, although the burning sting remained. He is aching all over, his muscles quivering with fatigue; he can't even raise himself off the floor.

The twins helped him, hugging him, comforting and praising him, while he sagged against them, burying his head in Rad's shoulder.

`Oh, God, Sir, tell me I did OK – tell me I pleased you.'

Rad grabbed Ben's head in both hands, looked him full in the eyes.

Hey, Ben, you did great, and we're very proud of you.' He kissed him, which seemed wholly appropriate in the circumstances. Tell him, Rick.'

Rick kissed the back of his neck. `Cuz, we are just so proud of you, you were wonderful.'

Ben could feel tears welling up in his eyes while responding to the hug, feeling comforted.

Hey, Ben, come n look at yourself in the mirror'. They supported him as he moved to look.

He gasped. For a moment it didn't look like him. He saw a pumped-up sexy hunk, streaming with sweat, and covered in crop-welts – so covered that it seemed at first sight that no part of the body had been left unbeaten.

`What d'you see, Benny, tell us what you see,' whispered Rick.

I see a well-beaten well-worked slave,' he whispered back – and then gasped as the full weight of what he'd said dawned on him. Oh shit, guys' he whispered again, `what are you doing to me?'

Nothing you don't truly want,' murmured Rad. Look at your dick, Ben.'

It was true. Ben blushed. He was half-erect already!

Mood change. Slap on his ass.

`C'mon, Ben, warm-downs and stretches, then we've earned a cool-down in the pool.'