Cousins Take Charge
Category – gay authoritarian – teen (legal age), role reversal, bondage, discipline, `forced' exercise,
Please be aware, this story may finish in a few chapters' time
Chapter Eight
Rad grabbed Ben's hair, yanked the head backwards, until his face was pointing to the ceiling, exposing the long vulnerable throat-column.
"Listen, dickbrain," hissed Rad, "We promised to keep all these vids private provided you behaved properly. But look at your behaviour this morning – it sucks – fucking sucks! So that lets us off our promise." Ben's eyes widened in alarm. "What d'you think your life would be like once we show those vids to all your team-mates, all your friends?"
Ben writhed, twisted, wailed, gabbled, "Oh God, Sir, please, Sir, oh, no, Sir, please not that, please no, oh please, please, Sir, I'm begging you, anything but that, anything – please punish me, as hard as you like, however you like, but not that, oh, please, my life would be shit, oh, please, anything, punish me, punish me, but please not that..."
The twins looked down at their abject cousin – how quickly had they subjugated him in just a few short days! They each took a quick look at the other's groin, and grinned at each other – yep, this was definitely turning them both on! Ben was a nervous wreck and, at this moment, would probably agree to anything to prevent his mates seeing those vids – and with good reason; his life would be wrecked!
A little more gently now, Rad grasps Ben's chin to lock gazes. "Let's get this straight. In order to keep those vids private, you're asking us to punish you hard instead." As Ben nodded vigorously, "But, Benny, you have to understand if you are going to prove yourself, you'll have to put up with a whole load of pain and humiliation today – are you sure you're tough enough for that?"
Ben swallowed nervously, but Rad had of course manipulatively expressed the challenge in a way from which no jock – not even in his current situation – could wimp out. And besides which, Ben had plenty of motivation to encourage him to `tough it out'!
He took a deep breath. "Yes, of course I'm tough enough, and I'm willing to pay to keep the vids private – bring it on!"
The tension of the moment was broken by Rick's laugh, as he used his crop to stroke Ben's hardening erection. "Here we are talking about hurting and humiliating you, and you get a hard-on! Now, how do you explain that?!"
Ben shook his head in bewildered frustration. "I just don't know – I think there may be something wrong with me?" And he looked up at the two twins for reassurance. Clearly he saw nothing strange in the role reversal, where he was looking to his younger cousins for comfort – but they certainly appreciated the irony!
"Nothing wrong with you at all, Cuz," Rick murmured gently, "Just listen to what your own bod is telling you."
Ben looked down. Certainly his dick was telling him this was exciting him. How could that be? It's true that he's been challenged more in the last couple of days than ever before – perhaps that was it. Even now, on his knees, aware that he's in for more suffering, inside he has a scared-excited feeling about what was in store for him. Yes, that must be it – it was the challenge.
Uneasily aware deep down that his self-analysis had not exactly been probingly honest, nevertheless he squared his shoulders, looked at Rad firmly, saying, "I'm ready for more, Sir".
Rad looked down at him, musing. (`As soon as he looks comfortable with what's going on, change it without warning.') He smiled mischievously, loomed over his lovely-bod cousin, grabbed his hair, and pulled back, back, back, until Ben's face was staring vertically upward at Rad, his neck stretched into a taut vulnerable column.
"And even if you aren't ready, Benny, you know that doesn't make any difference, don't you? We continue – it's our choice – whether or not you're willing." Ben knew that was true, of course, but the stark statement left him eyes and mouth open wide.
On a sudden impulse, Rad hawked up some saliva and spat – right into Ben's open mouth. The startled recipient jerked against his pulled hair, ran the spit round his mouth before swallowing. "What was that for?! Uh, Sir."
Rad smiled down. "Because I can, slave. That's the whole point! And what would you say if I told you Rick's just about to do the same thing!"
Ben breathed more rapidly. Well, what did he think about it. And why the fuck did he find the thought exciting. Involuntarily he shut his eyes and turned his head towards Rick, panting.
Rick made a lot of noise hawking, before spitting a big gobbet down the yearning throat. Ben swallowed, stared at both. "Fuck that was gross, Sirs."
Rad laughed. "Y'think that was gross?! Try this! Eat up those scraps on the floor!"
Ben looked at the floor than up at Rad. Surely he didn't mean... But that was as far as his thinking got. The words he was intending to utter were interrupted by the yelps that were forced from his throat as those crops descended yet again on his vulnerable flesh – and the twins weren't holding back!
The message was clear even though unspoken – you've been given a task, slave, and you get beaten until you've finished. Ben's forehead smacked to the floor as he dived at the first piece of toilet paper, got it into his mouth. But now it wasn't so easy. The paper formed a hard ball in his mouth, no matter how he tried to soften it with saliva. But the wallops from the crops were hurting, so in desperation he swallowed the lump whole and dashed to the next. His eyes were tearing, so he didn't waste time trying to dissolve it in his mouth, but swallowed as fast as he could. His mouth was dry, but the twins weren't holding back.
Indeed, there was no incentive for the twins to hold back. If Ben wanted the beating to end, he just needed to get the task done faster! And, frankly, his cousins were enjoying smacking the crops into him, and watching his flesh bounce and redden under the impact – as evidenced by the bulges in their groins.
Even the paper which had wiped under the toilet rim – that went the same way as all the rest, no time given to think about it.
By the time all the paper had been eaten from the floor, tears were running down Ben's face, he was moaning from the pain, struggling to draw some saliva back into his dry mouth.
Once the twins had left him with new instructions, Ben stayed for a while kneeling on the floor, trying to process what was happening to him. He couldn't work it out – just as he thought he was at a point where he was keeping the twins happy, something happened to push him back down again.
Now he had to do the job all over again. Worse, he had to do it with attached `accessories'. The twins had produced a pair of – clover clamps they called them – to pinch his nips. Ben had hissed with pain when they first went on, but very quickly the stabs of hurt seemed to be wired to his dick – every time the clamps jerked, his erection throbbed! To make matters worse, they had then attached a little swinging weight to each – any incautious movement, and the weights added to the ache.
What was not nice at all was the small dumbbell bar running between his thighs that they'd attached to his balls. Again, while he could cope with the steady burn, any sudden move was a stab to the balls!
Absently, still kneeling on the floor, Ben rubbed at the new welts which were sending more ache messages to his over-taxed brain.
Now, here's a strange thing! Ache the welts certainly do, but rubbing them sends a delicious message of pleasure-pain to his nerve-centres! His hands run over his beaten body, seeking out new sources of this intoxicating mixture – there are plenty to find! Some wrap-around blows from the crops managed to raise some welts on abs and pecs – enchanting discovery! Wow! Even the nipples had suffered! Shit! Pinching a welt running under a clamp – fuck, that's so hot!
The cameras were recording the erotic sight of the welted jock, moaning, muscles clenching as he writhed, pinching, rubbing, re-awakening the pain. He was lost in his own world! Panting, lip caught between teeth, eyelids fluttering, groin thrusting, butt cheeks clenching, not long now...
Ben's eyes snapped open, looking straight into the camera in front of him. Fuck! What the fuck was he doing?! Anyone would think he was enjoying this! He looked down – and blushed as he saw his hand gripping his dick – he'd been jerking off while pinching a welt by his nipple! He looked down again – his hand was still gripping his shaft, pulling the tumescent flesh back and forward.
For a moment Ben was tempted. He so badly wanted to cum! Then common sense came to his rescue. The twins were already pissed off with him – what would they do if he sprayed his cum all over the ensuite floor?! He didn't want to find out...
A pause, then Ben sighed, started pulling out all the items from the cupboard under the basin...
Hours later, stomach growling with hunger, Ben took a last long look at his prison – he didn't think there was anything else he could possibly do. According to instructions, he locked both cuffs on his right wrist, put the key in his mouth, picked up the cameras, went to find the twins.
He knew where they were – for some time the sound of their mucking around in the pool had been a stark contrast to his skivvying away.
Ben set up the cameras where he'd been told, cuffed himself wrists behind – and, thank goodness, he remembered to kneel without being told, knees wide.
And then – nothing happened!
Ben was kneeling by the pool, the twins were splashing around.
They must obviously have noticed him?! Was this some kind of test?
He waited.
And waited.
The sun burned down on him. Sweat was running down him. He felt light-headed from lack of food. He tried to lean back to allow the clover weights to rest on his abs. He clenched his thighs to take the weight of the bar off his balls. What had they told him when he'd been given his instructions? He couldn't remember. Shit. Perhaps they were waiting for him to tell them he'd done? Or was he supposed to wait until they spoke to him?
Shit.
How long had it been? The hot paving slabs were hurting his knees. Sweat was running into his eyes – he shook his head in an attempt to clear them. Stab of pleasure-pain from nips to dick.
He waited.
His thighs were hurting from the strain of the wide-splayed kneel. But he didn't dare bring his knees in closer – he'd got into enough trouble today!
He waited.
Shit. He must have got it wrong. He shifted the key into his cheek.
"Er, S-sirs? G-guys?"
Instantly the splashing ceased. Two stony faces glared his way.
"You were told to wait in silence, Benny. Why can't you do what you're told, shit-for- brains?"
"I-I've been waiting but –"
"So? You're in a hurry for something? What's wrong with waiting?"
"Er, I-I th-thought –"
"You let us do the thinking, dipshit. You can't do anything right, can you? Because of your arsing around with the ensuite, we had to get lunch for ourselves – you're not exactly covering yourself in glory, Benny."
"I-I'm s-so–"
"If you're about to tell us you're sorry, don't bother, asswipe – don't worry, we'll make you sorry."
Ben looked up for a moment, but the menace in Rad's eyes was so intense, that he swallowed nervously and hurriedly looked down. Shit, whatever he did, he seemed to get into trouble!
"Right, I guess we'd better feed you cos otherwise you'll use that as a pathetic excuse for poor performance later, I s'pose. We had bread n' cheese, and then some yoghurt and fruit, an' I guess you'd like the same."
Ben brightened; he could do with that.
Rad reached for a bowl by the side of the pool and plonked it in front of Ben. "So, we've prepared the same for you. But you've wasted so much time, you're gonna have to catch up, so we've blended it all together so you can eat it quickly."
Ben stared at the contents of the bowl – no resemblance to normal food; glutinous, crusting in the hot summer sun, nauseating, repulsive. He opened his mouth to speak, tried to find words; no words came. Desperately he looked at Rad.
Rad shrugged. "OK, please yourself, you just don't learn, do you, Ben?" And promptly tipped the contents onto the paving stone. It looked even worse, spreading slowly outwards in a revolting slime, wetter parts running towards the cracks in the paving.
Ben stared again. The implicit command was obvious. But he couldn't – he just couldn't!
Rick chimed in. "Y'have to remember this is your fault, Ben – if you'd done your job properly this morning, this wouldn't have happened. This – is – your – fault."
Ben's shoulders sagged. Perhaps they were right? Did he deserve this? How had he been brought so low? The trouble was, just as he thought he'd reached bottom, the twins found a way of bringing him even lower.
Rad's voice had an ugly edge to it. "Put it like this, Ben. You've got thirty seconds to eat all that up. And if after that time there's any left over then – trust us – you'll be eating your next meal out of the fucking toilet."
Ben stared with shock into Rad's threatening gaze, initiating an unspoken interchange – what might have been called a battle of wills if the opposing forces hadn't been so unequal.
You've-got-to-be-joking.
You-better-believe-how-serious-we-are.
Please-don't-make-me-do-this!
Just-fucking-do-what-you're-fucking-told.
Unknown to Ben, the twins were noting carefully the reactions of their muscular cousin. Every time they found another way of driving him downward, they knew there was a risk that he could just walk away saying `fuck you, I'm not playing your stupid games any more'. And it says much for the twins' developing skills that so far Ben-worm had not (yet?) turned, even though they were prepared for it. Part of their strategy was to keep him on the bounce, never giving him too much time to think, and so -
Rad held up his phone so that Ben could see, tapped the screen to set the stopwatch going.
Shit!
Heedless of dignity, heedless of the cameras recording his degradation, Ben's face smacked into the hideous muck, his mouth hoovering up the revolting gloop, swallowing desperately in order to hoover up more. His tongue rasped along the paving stone. Ben knew that expecting mercy from his devil-transformed cousins was hopeless, and any residue that he left could be used as evidence of his failure.
His lips scraped against the rough surface as he sucked up anything that was there – anything, including any dirt that was on the stone or in the cracks.
His nipple weights grazed the ground – dimly the pleasure-pain registered at the back of his brain.
The job was done. He lifted his head to display a face caked with goo. His stomach heaved for a moment as he realised what he'd just had to do.
Swiftly, "You puke up, Ben, and I swear you'll suck that up as well".
Ben's sinewy shoulders bowed and shivered; he had no doubt they'd make him! He looked at the wet paving stone in front of him, now clean of the nauseating sludge. Was there going to be no end to his humiliation?! How low could he go?
Shit. To his horror he saw his dick rising further. What kind of sickfuck would get hard in these circumstances?! What the hell was wrong with him?
But before there was time to work this out, the twins were on him again.
Now Ben was bound spread between two trees, cameras recording back and front. A squash ball had been forced into his mouth, tied in place. Clover clamps and ball weight had gone. What were they up to now? What did they have? Battery shavers? Puzzled and apprehensive, he watched Rick kneel down in front of him, switch the shaver on.
Oh, fuck, no! No, shit, no! He shook his head in violent protest, trying to force his protests past his gag.
Slap! Damn, those slaps seemed to be getting harder! His cheek stung, his eyes watered as Rad spat out "Don't forget, Ben, you asked us to punish you hard to save making the vids public – you asked for this. So tuff it up, and take it like a man!"
Ben felt like crying as Rick swept the shaver through his pubic bush, a swathe of hair falling to the ground. How proud he was of his thick hair! Maturing earlier than many of his friends, it had been a point of pride in the showers, showing off to his mates. It gave him bragging rights. It proved he was a man!
And now his manhood was being taken away, swipe by swipe, in just a few seconds. Ben shut his eyes, trying to shut out reality, the world. For fuck's sake, how much worse could it get?!
He was about to find out.
He'd forgotten Rad.
Until he felt his butt cheeks being pulled apart, heard the sound of more buzzing, felt something scraping perilously close to his most private hole. The camera recorded a delicious moment as Ben's eyes shot open in shock – and shame. A seminal moment as a virile young man realises he is being transformed into a sexy smooth slaveboy. Ben moaned and shut his eyes again.
All too soon, the twins had finished denuding his entire genital area and his armpits, undone his bonds. They threw some packages and a bottle at his feet.
"Right, Benny, we see no reason why we should have to do all the work – finish the rest yourself, oil yourself up afterwards, then come `n' find us with the cameras."
Ben looked at the packages – they were hair-wax packs. Well, he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised.
Half an hour later, Ben reckoned he must be an expert on self-waxing. How to ensure that the plastic is pressed firmly down. How much it hurts! Whatever he did, it hurt. Pull it off fast, pull it off slow, it hurt. Fast might have hurt more, but it least it was quick.
Delicious moments – the naked increasingly-hairless boy grits his teeth, screws up his face, eyes closed in a grimace, as he grasps the tab, and then pulls hard, yelping as multiple hairs are ripped out of his skin. And he is having to inflict this torture on himself!
What is worse is when he examines an area and finds that not all the hairs have been removed – and he has to do it again...
Perhaps it is now no surprise that this toxic mix of pain, humiliation and stimulation is enough to keep his erection bobbing away – by the time he's removed all the hair and is spreading baby-oil all over himself, he's drooling – yet again...
The final humiliation (if only it really were final!) – he kneels up close to one of the cameras, and has to describe what he's doing, showing each area that he's shaved, saying that he hopes it's been done to everyone's approval. Ben felt sick when he had to back up to the camera, pulling apart his butt cheeks to show his denuded anal hole – but his dick was still drooling...
He finds the twins on the bed who look up as he enters – and then stare. It might have been all that they planned, but this exceeds their wildest (wet-)dreams! The hairless smooth- gleaming oiled-up young god in the doorway is the stuff of fantasy – and yet here he was in their own bedroom. What is more, he belonged to them. Hurriedly getting off the bed (as much to hide their stiffies as anything else) "What d'ya see, Ben, tell us what y' see", they were whispering as they manoeuvred Ben in front of the mirror.
Ben gasped. What did he see? Difficult to describe. It was him, of course. But it wasn't the Ben he knew. He ran his hands over glossy flesh, rubbing over sculpted muscle – an exotic sight. The pulsing erection suggested powerful desire. But there was an accompanying defencelessness. The lack of hair anywhere that might be expected on a man – a real man – reduced the figure to something less than a man. But erotic, yes, and whispered words could be heard
"A sexy slaveboy."
For a moment, Ben wondered who'd said them – and then realised they came from his own mouth! That figure in the mirror triggered bizarre feelings inside him. He sank to his knees, overwhelmed by his own image. Subconsciously, his hands grasped his tool; involuntarily they moved up and down as he stared into the mirror.
Even the eyes staring back were foreign to him. Wide, staring, hungry with desire, lost...
The twins left him enough time so that they had some good film of him, before slapping him with an admonitory "Uh-uh, slave – you keep your hands off your dick, remember?"
Ben was so used to being manhandled now that his wrists being cuffed behind felt commonplace, and he meekly followed the twins outside down to the bottom of the garden. He noticed a change by the compost bins – a short part of the boundary hedge had been cleared away so that it was possible for the twins to step over the low fence to lead him naked into Clive Peebles' garden.
Ben wondered why they were there – the grass sure didn't need cutting again; he supposed he was going to be given some other task that required a bit of muscle. Mentally he shrugged and vowed to tough it out, but there was a nervous pit in his stomach – whatever was about to happen was bound to mean more humiliation and pain!
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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!
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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!). In particular, thank you to Harry for his invaluable imagination and advice. Thank you also to those who are providing pix and vid-links to relevant material – it's a most helpful impetus to keep the story going!
I hope you enjoy this episode! StrictSafeTop sst@linuxmail.org
This story is fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or living persons is coincidental.
Personal experiences, from images to events, memories and words, flavour my writing, and while elements of this story may be (and often are) based in fact, the characters are entirely fictional. Unprotected sex is depicted. In real life, be safe! Don't gamble. If it is illegal for you to read this story because of your age, location or any other reason, don't read it.
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Please do not republish any of this story without consent of the author.