Disclaimer:
All rights reserved. Other than downloading one copy for personal enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, except for reviews, without the written permission of the author. You must be a minimum of 18 years of age (or 21 years of age in some jurisdictions) to read this story. If you are not of legal age to read such material, or if you consider this type of writing to be morally offensive, then please do not read the story below.
This story contains homoerotic subject mater, designed for the entertainment and enlightenment of mature adults. The story contains episodes of both direct and social aggression often called "bullying". The author does not endorse this kind of behavior. Victims of bullying can suffer from long-term emotional and behavioral problems. Bullying can cause loneliness, depression, and anxiety as a bullying victim begins to believe that something is wrong with them. Victims can also have a loss of confidence and be more prone to illness. The author certainly does not advocate that people who are different should be hazed or ridiculed for being different (quite the opposite). It is hoped that there is some insight to be gained about what it is like for men who are under-endowed by society's standards, and who have been subject to some of these life experiences.
The views expressed in this story along with the actions taken by characters should not be assumed to be either recommended or denounced by the author. While inspired by real world events this is a work of fiction, and the author insists that you do not attempt to re-reenact or recreate any event or activity described in the text of the story. The story has been written for entertainment purposes only.
If you do not agree to any of these terms and conditions, or if you live in a location where such content may not be legal for you to read, please read no further, but rather exercise your right to select an alternate form of entertainment elsewhere. It is your own responsibility to adhere to these terms.
Thanks to all who contacted me. I have heard from a great many of you so far. It is great to hear from you, and to hear your suggestions. Comments on the story are appreciated and may be addressed to the author at: dreamcat_dave@yahoo.com
CHAPTER 15: BIG BROTHER
"If these guys fuck with you again you better do something to stand up for yourself. I mean it! When you let them walk all over you it affects me!" Mark said, and he meant it. "It also affects Mom. Our whole family! She's mom, I know, and she gets a bit dramatic, but the stuff they are saying about you has shamed her, Pee Wee. Shamed her!" Pee Wee listened to what Mark said, and he knew that Mark intended to be helpful, but he hated what it meant about him. He was more utterly embarrassed and humiliated listening to this than he had been getting exposed at school.
"Have you ever known her to work this much, to work all those double shifts?" Mark asked. "Have you noticed that since this started she's never home anymore cause she's always working? Have you asked yourself why she is doing that?"
"Since the only thing that seems to motivate you is fear, then listen up, Pee Wee! Dad left, and I'm sorry about that. It really fucked up everything! I know Troy was as asshole to you, Pee Wee, but nothing like this could have happened if he had been here. Mom is falling apart at the seams, and it's your fault! So I am taking back control for our family. If I hear that you have been doing anything like what happened today, or that you got stripped on the bus, or anything else, there'll be hell to pay. I mean it!"
Pee Wee remembered what his aunt had said at his a birthday party well over a year ago. She had told him that soon he would have to start being polite to his "bigger brother" Mark.
"If I hear that you tried to defend yourself. Even if you got the shit beat out of you, then I will be proud of you. But if I hear that you let them humiliate you without doing anything to stop it--well, whatever they did, won't be nearly as bad as what happens when you get home! Pee Wee, they only do this because you let them, and a counselor told me that means that you either think you deserve it or that you enjoy it."
"A counselor?" Pee Wee interrupted Mark.
"Don't even ask." Mark waved his hand dismissively.
"But I . . ." Pee Wee began.
"Shut up and listen! I know that Randy advertising that you have a baby-sized dickie was a real kick in the balls. Everyone is talking about it and teasing you about it. It sucks. Hell, after the guys at school heard about you and started asking if I was hung like a gnat, even I decided I would rather show and tell than have everyone think of me like that. So now you have a reputation for having the smallest dick around, and after today, I guess, a rep for being a cocksucker! Christ! It's embarrassing being your brother!"
Mark paused for a few minutes, looking down at the ground and shaking his head, he looked over at Scott, and then back at Pee Wee, "The way that we put our family back together is that you start by taking back control of your life."
"To be sure that you've learned your lesson, I am going to spank you with Dad's razor strap, once for ever guy you sucked off at school today. Followed by a surprise." Mark looked at his brother with an expression of firm resolve. Pee Wee remembered the vintage razor strap his father had kept in the garage. It was basically an antique wide heavy leather belt used for sharpening a razor. He used to keep it hanging on his workbench. His Dad had used it to spank them when they were younger, before the divorce. It had been quite a ritual. Not only did you get a spanking, but you also suffered the humiliation of having the whole family present watching you get swatted.
"You can't do this to me!" Pee Wee complained, "You not my Dad, you're my brother . . . "
Mark interrupted. "If you prefer I can talk to Mom and Uncle Max, I can even call Dad. I can tell them all about what's been happening, and I mean the rest of the story, all the parts you haven't told them. Scott here has all the pictures now. By tomorrow he will even have the pictures of you that Randy took today. Would you rather deal with them? At least I am giving you a chance to fix this yourself and not pack you off to some mental hospital!"
"Mental hospital?" Pee Wee asked in shock, "What do you mean?"
"I heard mom talking." Mark said with a stern but earnest face, "You scared her, Pee Wee. And you know how she feels about the whole homo thing."
"Who was she talking to?"
"Does it matter? I think it was Reverend Seton . . ."
"What did she say?" Pee Wee's face paled in alarm. He knew his mother's beliefs. He was sure she already thought he was a pervert. "I mean, what were they talking about?" He hadn't been thinking about how his mother might react if she ever heard about him giving the boys at school blowjobs. He figured that she would disown him or at least ground him for life.
"They were talking about sending you someplace that fixes homosexuals and sex offenders, some religious place maybe, or a mental hospital!"
"No!" Pee Wee said. The thought of being sent someplace like that frightened him. He could feel himself start to tear up, not in sadness, but in fear.
"But if you don't want to deal with me, then I can tell Mom about how I walked in on you shooting you load all over yourself again this morning while screaming out 'I want your dick, I need your dick, let me suck your dick.'" Mark said in a mocking tone, imitating what he had Scott had witnessed hearing Pee Wee say during his sleep as his wet dream came to a climax. "Didn't she walk in on you just last week? I wonder how she'll react to this?"
"No," Pee Wee said, "I don't want you to tell her."
"I didn't think so. So were gonna keep this between us?"
Pee Wee nodded.
"So, before we get started, I need a few answers."
"Okay."
"First question," Mark looked at Pee Wee directly in the eyes. "Are you gay?"
Pee Wee looked at him, and then looked over at Scott. He wasn't sure exactly how they would react. He had heard his brother talk about 'queers' a few times, so he guessed he would not react well to the truth.
"I guess so."
There was a long pause. Mark looked over at Scott, then back at Pee Wee.
"I figured." Mark said, "Scott found some links on your computer." He walked over to where Pee Wee was sitting and sat down next to him. "I want you to hear this very carefully," Mark said. He put his arm around his brother's shoulders. "I'm your brother. I don't care who you screw so long as it isn't me." Pee Wee had been expecting several things from Mark, but that reaction wasn't one of them.
Then Mark continued. "But in Santa Rosa, Texas, in 1994, being a homo, or queer, or gay, whatever, can get you killed. This ain't San Francisco. At least it sure won't win you any popularity contests. Now that they're calling you a 'cocksucker' it will get worse for you, if you don't do something!" Pee Wee felt himself blush when his brother said the word 'cocksucker'. It had taken them almost an hour, and several layers of skin, to get the words scrubbed off his back.
Scott chimed in, "Mark is right. Listen Peter, when you sucked off all those guys today, well, um . . ." Scott looked over at Mark. "Those guys are talking."
"So I need to know, Pee Wee," Mark asked calmly, "Why did you do it today?"
Pee Wee sat there looking down at his lap. He felt bad about this. Mark kept talking to him like there was something he could do about it, and somehow, he had to make Mark understand that he was the victim in all this. "I was afraid," Pee Wee began, "If I don't go through with it, the guys will keep beating me up, and kicking me in the balls . . . and you, too."
"Why do you do the stuff Randy tells you?" Scott asked.
"I don't want everyone to know." Pee Wee answered.
"Know what? That you got a little dick?" Mark pulled Pee Wee's hair to make him look him in the face, "And how did that work out? Did Randy keep your little secret?"
"No."
"No, he didn't." Mark emphasized. "Now the whole fucking town knows. Even some of the boys in the elementary school know! He's got you to trap yourself in a hole. Every time you do something that jerk says, you are just digging yourself in even deeper. Why can't you figure that out?"
"No, I know." Pee Wee looked down.
"And you always do what he says because you're scared of him?" Mark asked.
Pee Wee nodded.
"Okay, well now you can be scared of me," Mark said. "Next time you do let him disgrace you, or us, I'm gonna paddle your ass, and make you do something even worse, even more humiliating."
"Why?" Pee Wee looked like he didn't believe what Mark was saying, like he though Mark was bluffing.
"Maybe if you're more afraid of me than him you will think twice it."
Pee Wee remembered how Mark had made him carry the garbage out to the curb that morning naked, all eight bags. Even made him carry half of them across Mary's yard. The guys on the garbage truck had seen him.
"But here's the deal," Mark continued, "Once you start standing up to Randy and his cronies, I'll be there to back you up." Pee Wee nodded that he understood while Mark looked into his face. Sometimes Mark had a way of making the unreasonable sound very reasonable. "Now we are going out to the garage," He said.
"What for?" Pee Wee asked.
"Because I am going to give you a spanking," his brother said as he led Pee Wee out the back door and down the sidewalk into the garage, "Come along."
The garage was empty of cars. Pee Wee's father used this the garage more as a workshop than as a place to keep their cars. There was far too much junk stored there to allow for a car parked inside. The garage door was, mercifully, closed. "Over here Pee Wee."
Pee Wee ambled forward. As vulnerable as he felt he was about to feel more so. "Take off your clothes."
It took a moment of hesitation but Pee Wee's hands moved to the fastenings on his pants and shirt, and slowly he removed all his outer garments.
"And your underwear. Strip down naked."
Pee Wee obeyed.
"That's exactly right, Pee Wee" said his brother, "From now on, if I tell you to go get ready for a spanking, this is how I expect to find you waiting."
Mark looked around the garage. Something caught his eye, his father's old sawhorses. Amid all the boxes and forgotten artifacts of an abandoned marriage and a forsaken family, all Ryan Llywelyn's old camping equipment was still stored here. Mark took down one of the sleeping bags as a padded cover. He folded it and put it across one of the sawhorses then moved the wooden contraption to the center of the garage floor.
Pee Wee saw his younger brother standing beside something covered up by a sleeping bag, a sawhorse, he realized. Mark motioned to Pee Wee to the side of the object.
"You'll be spanked bent over this" said Mark, "Bend over this end."
Pee Wee bent over the waist-high sawhorse at one end.
"Bend your dick down so it's pointing at the floor and put it against the outside end of this side of the sawhorse. Then spread your feet until they're on the outside of the legs of the sawhorse" instructed Mark, "then bend forward, and reach forward to hold the lower crossbar on the far side with your hands."
Pee Wee complied, with some difficulty and much discomfort. It caused him some considerable pain to bend his dick, which normally pointed straight up, into a downward position. The top of his erect shaft was pressing painfully hard against the rough end of the 2x4. The wooden shaft felt like it was going to break in half at the point where it disappeared into his body. Now Pee Wee was completely off balance, depending on the sawhorse for support. He leaned forward, carefully balancing himself on the horizontal beam and reached down to grab the legs at the far end. The board dug into his skin in the center of his chest and down the center of his abs. Mark slid him forward, just a bit. It hurt. The suspensory ligaments that normally maintained his erection in a strictly vertical angle were being stretched further than ever before. His small rod felt like it was about to snap off, and he could feel his balls getting pushed back. It was altogether uncomfortable.
Pee Wee's body was very stretched. The spread open, bent over position caused buttocks to open out naturally. Mark could clearly see the puckered pink opening of Pee Wee's anus and below that the back of his balls, and the underside of his small erection, held in a downward position by the end of the sawhorse. He's aroused, Mark realized, as he looked down at his brother's petite erection.
The sound of a car pulling into the driveway reached both the three boy's ears at the same time. Pee Wee quickly startled in reaction to the car, worrying that his mother had come home. He started to get up. It was automatic. But Mark put his hand at the small of Pee Wee's back and pushed him back onto the sawhorse. "Don't move." warned Mark.
Mark left the garage and closed the door behind him. Pee Wee was thoroughly humiliated already and knew he'd be more so if anyone saw him like this. There were voices outside. Mark was talking to someone, but Pee Wee couldn't make out what was being said.
Pee Wee waited, maintaining his uncomfortable position on the sawhorse for over ten minutes. It seemed like an hour. To his credit, he had waited obediently in the embarrassing, submissive position with his bottom and balls and exposed. Scott was his witness. Pee Wee looked over and saw Mark stepped back into the garage, but he wasn't alone. Billy Jakes was with him. Pee Wee knew him from the swim team. Pee Wee had had more than a few fantasies about him. Billy was at least two years older than Pee Wee, even though he was only a junior. He was a nice guy even if he wasn't too bright. Next to Victor, he probably had one of the nicest cocks Pee Wee had seen in the locker room. But he wasn't conceited about it. He was more of a quiet type. He was also the son the janitor. Pee Wee remembered that Billy's older brother had been Troy's best friend, and suddenly Pee Wee remembered why the blond guy on the garbage truck had seemed so familiar to him.
Pee Wee choked back a sob of frustration when he saw Billy, and groaned with embarrassment at the thought of having a small audience watch his younger brother spank him. Lying there across the sawhorse, his butt, balls, and dick so totally exposed to the boys in the garage, he felt more humiliated than he had in the boy's restroom. This couldn't be happening to him! Getting spanked by his younger brother! His own mother thinking about sending him off to some institution. His mind was racing as fast as his heart was pounding. He looked at the faces of the three boys looking at him.
"I'm sorry about what happened." Billy squatted down next to the sawhorse. "My dad found the glory hole in the restroom after school. He's already fixed it."
It was too much for Pee Wee. He had to turn his face away. The idea that someone else was here, watching this all happen, made it horrible. Billy had always been nice to him. He remembered Billy walking out of the boy's room right after they had forced him to measure his dick while the boys there all watched and laughed. But not it seemed like Billy knew everything, had seen everything.
Billy seemed irritated, almost frustrated with him, "I don't understand. Why did you do that? You're only making things worse for yourself. Don't you have any pride?"
Pee Wee physically felt the shame burning in his cheeks as Mark went over and took the razor strap down from the peg where his father had left it hanging several years ago. Frowning, Billy walked back over next to the table where Scott was standing.
Without more ado Mark swung. The sound of the strap displacing air just before it landed immediately preceded the pain as it impacted his right buttock. But before Pee Wee could catch his breath the next swat struck his bottom. Mark continued to swat Pee Wee for a count of seven before he paused. Tears of pain and humiliation were running down his brother's cheeks and nose and Pee Wee had difficult controlling himself to not sob out loud.
When the next swat came down on his bottom the pain was sharper and Pee Wee could not prevent himself from howling out loud when it landed. Mark went on until Pee Wee thought he must have swatted him about 15 times.
Pee Wee again heard the sound of the belt going through the air. This time it landed not on his bright red bottom but a bit lower, at the point where his butt met his upper leg now spread apart, striking his exposed balls and the underside of his erect penis which had been pushed back between his pegs by the end of sawhorse. A cascade of pain surged through him, leaving his legs trembling and causing his knees to buckle. Pee Wee screamed and fell off the sawhorse onto his side, curled up and instinctively held his balls in his hands protectively. His penis felt like Mark had ripped the flesh off from the underside of his penis. He could hear himself moaning.
"No!" Pee Wee wailed, "It hurts! Oh my god. No. Don't, please don't . . ."
But Mark held the razor strap firmly in his right hand. "Get back into position," he ordered.
"No!" Pee Wee yelled at his brother. "Why did you do that?" He was sobbing openly.
The expression on Mark's face suggested that he had not done it on purpose. Perhaps he has just swung a bit low. But watching the reaction on Pee Wee's face, Mark saw that that single swat had produced the kind of fear he believed it would take to get his submissive brother to think twice the next time Randy tried to manipulate him into do something degrading.
"You don't get it!" Mark said without remorse, "I got kicked three times in the balls yesterday, once trying to defend you when you wouldn't defend yourself! If you let Randy humiliate you, then you get it from me. Maybe that will give you some incentive to stand up for yourself! Get it?"
Pee Wee did as he was told and climbed back onto the sawhorse. He bent his sore penis down and resumed his former position, stretched out across the sawhorse. A moment later the razor strap came down across his penis and balls again. Hard. This time it was deliberate. The pain tore through the underside of his penis, and Pee Wee was sure that his brother had shredded the flesh from the underside of his small shaft. Pee Wee fell off the sawhorse again, trying to yell out. But what came out of his force was more of a high-pitched hoarse whisper.
His diminutive penis stung far beyond anything Pee Wee had ever imagined possible. It felt like someone had driven a hundred needles into it, like a whole nest of wasps were stinging it. He stared at it, surprised that the skin was intact, except for a small rug burn on his frenulum. His foreskin, in fact, had not been ripped away. The ache in his balls was nothing in comparison. His bottom burned like it was on fire. Grit on the garage floor dug into his hot cheeks and stung. The combined pain was excruciating.
Pee Wee was sure he would do anything Mark demanded--anything--to stop this. Tears were running down his handsome face now contorted with pain. His face was a mess of tears and snot. "No, please!" Pee Wee whined in a tiny voice, barely audible, wrought with pain, "Please, no please! Stop . . ." A long strand of runny snot made a bridge from his nose to the floor. Even Mark hesitated, as he watched his brother trembling uncontrollably.
"Okay, Pee Wee!" Mark offered a compromise, "Instead of finishing the swats, you will run some laps around the yard to warm up for the cross country run you'll be doing later."
Pee Wee nodded his agreement, and reached down to pick up his clothes, but Mark stopped him. "I never told you to get dressed."
Pee Wee looked at Mark in disbelief as Mark tossed his boxers, socks, and shoes over to him. Pee Wee put them on.
Mark could tell by his brother's expression that Pee Wee was more than a little nervous. Pee Wee after all, was standing there, now wearing just boxers, socks and running shoes.
"Okay Pee Wee, you're going to run laps around the yard."
Pee Wee's mouth dropped open, "Um . . . not like this . . . our neighbors . . . " he stammered.
Mark and Scott laughed and Mark said, "Oh yea, I guess it would be bad for someone to see you running around the yard like that in just your boxers!"
Pee Wee nodded.
Mark thought for a moment and then said, "So take your boxers off!"
Pee Wee hesitated.
"I said, take them off!" Mark shouted. "Balk again and I'll double the distance you're running tonight."
Pee Wee slowly grabbed the waistband of his boxers, pulled them down his legs, and kicked them off leaving them lay on the garage floor.
And there Pee Wee stood, naked, except for his socks and running shoes, breathing hard and with bright red butt and his red baby boner jutting out. It throbbed painfully.
"Get over there in front of the garage door and start running in place to get warmed up."
Pee Wee walked over to the garage entrance and started running in place while the other three boys began manually lifting the garage door up. He sincerely hoped that they wouldn't be able to open the door. It hadn't been raised in over a year, and the garage door opener had been disconnected long before that. His hopes fell as it began, slowly, to raise up along it's track as they strained to lift it. Pee Wee watched them while he ran, saw the driveway begin to come into view as they worked the door open in lurches. As the door opened, Pee Wee grew more anxious. The only thing blocking the neighborhood's view of him running nude was Billy's car. After a few minutes, he had worked up a nice sweat.
Mark looked around the garage for a moment, when his expression changed. Finally Mark turned to Pee Wee and ordered, "Run to your room and get two of your trophies, one for each hand. You're going to run keeping them held above your head. Go now!"
Pee Wee hesitated, but when Mark picked up the razor strap he sprung into action, rushed to the side door of the house and upstairs and then returned with a trophy in each hand. One was from a swim meet in Brownsville, the other was from a competition in McAllen.
"Keep running in place," Mark said. Pee Wee raised the trophies up over his head and continued to run in place facing the driveway where Billy's car was parked. The boys could tell by his expression and his breathing that he was a little nervous.
Mark slapped him across his abs and said, "Okay, run around the yard. Stick to the outside, close to the fence! Every time you come back around to the garage, you'll stop, and run in place here while holding your trophies over your head!"
Pee Wee hesitated then started to run forward when Mark caught him around the waist. "What do you say?"
Pee Wee stared into Mark's face blankly.
"Say, 'Yes, big brother.'" Mark instructed him.
Pee Wee's face burned and his eyes seemed to tear up a bit again. "Yes, Big Brother!" he said and ran out of the garage. The boys watched him disappear around the corner of the house, then started the longest leg of his journey around the outer perimeter of the back yard. With all the trees, hedges, and one length of fence, he was the most obscured from public view in the back yard, but as he emerged into the front yard there was nothing blocking anyone's view except the gathering darkness if any of the neighbors happened to be at their windows. He finished his first lap and was running in place, outside the garage entrance, holding his trophies over his head.
He was sweating like crazy and breathing hard. His penis had retracted back inside him during his run. Pee Wee was very aware that the boys were staring down at his crotch. While he was embarrassed of his penis size, he especially hated how his penis sometimes completely disappeared back inside him, leaving only a gathering of foreskin as evidence that he even had a penis. Usually it did that when it was very cold or after he had been working out. But holding his trophies aloft, there was nothing he could do to cover up.
"Does it always do that when it gets soft?" Scott asked Mark as if Pee Wee wasn't there to hear them discussing him.
"I guess," Mark answered, "He usually keeps it covered up. I guess he's embarrassed."
"I swear that looks just like a cat's asshole," Scott said, remembering what someone had entered under one of Pee Wee's photos that Randy had posted on the internet.
Mark walked over to Pee Wee and stood directly in front of him as he ran in place. "So, how many guys did you suck off today, and who were they?" Mark asked.
"I don't know," Pee Wee answered. The day had been a blur. He had kneeled down in front of the glory hole as Randy had told him. He guessed that he has sucked off somewhere between 15 and twenty guys, but they had all stood on the other side of the partition. He had recognized a few of them, but he hadn't seen the faces of most of them. He guessed that they were members of the baseball team, mostly, or maybe some of Randy's friends.
"Until you can answer the question, you are going to keep answering the next one." Mark said. Then he asked, "How long is your pee-pee, Pee Wee?"
Pee Wee almost stopped running. This felt like something Randy would do to him. Mark knew how much Pee Wee hated it when his penis was called a pee-pee. It was the word for penis their mother had used when they were little boys. Troy had done that too him. Randy had somehow figured it out too.
"Well, answer the question!" Mark demanded.
"It's three inches."
"Say it in a full sentence."
"My dick is three inches long."
"Your what?"
"My pee-pee is three inches long." Pee Wee said.
"Barely three inches long, you mean." Mark added. "Isn't that the way the guys said it?"
Billy grimaced. He had been there the first time he had seen something like this happen to Pee Wee. He pointed at Mark, "This is fucked!" He argued, "Why are you doing this to him? He's your brother for Christ's sake!"
Mark turned to Billy, "Like I told you, its for his own good."
Billy started to walk away, but Scott caught him and pulled him aside. Pee Wee couldn't hear what was being said, but it seemed like Billy was pretty unhappy with the situation.
"Say it louder," Mark commanded.
"My pee-pee is barely three inches long." Pee Wee upped the volume of his voice a bit he shouted back, but continued running in place.
"Louder!" Mark shouted in his face.
"My pee-pee is barely three inches long," Pee Wee finally shouted. He was sure that everyone in the neighborhood must have heard that
"Okay, now run around the yard again and keep repeating that!" Mark instructed him, "If we can't hear it in the garage then the lap doesn't count."
"Yes, Big Brother!" Pee Wee bellowed as he took off running. There was rage in his eyes behind the tears.
Mark smiled as he watched his brother's bare ass disappear around the corner once more.
"My pee-pee is barely three inches long." Pee Wee kept repeating as he ran, over and over again. At one point Mary, the old woman who lived next door to them, opened her curtains to look outside. The light from inside spilled out around her silhouetting her. Pee Wee sprinted even faster, hoping to get around the garage before she noticed him.
"My pee-pee is barely three inches long." He repeated as he finished his second lap and continued running in place, outside the garage entrance, still holding his trophies over his head. "My pee-pee is barely three inches long."
"Do it again." Mark said, "This time say, 'I'm proud of my three-inch pee-pee," and keep running laps until I tell you to stop," and Pee Wee started off around the yard again.
By the end of his laps Pee Wee was in full automatic mode. Something in his brain had disconnected enabling him to run the laps and continue to shout out "I'm proud of my three-inch pee-pee" over and over without even realizing what he was doing. Sometime during his run he had gotten a baby boner again that was starting to hurt. It was bouncing up and down as he ran.
It took Pee Wee a little longer to complete the final lap around the yard. As soon as he reached the garage, Mark called him over, and he began running in place, keeping the trophies held up over his head with some difficulty. His arms were trembling. He was breathing hard and his body was glistening with sweat.
"Well, I wonder what the Mom would think if she could see you like this?" Mark asked. Pee Wee managed a slight moan and seemed to suck in his breath a little faster as he continued to run in place.
"Are you proud of your little pee-pee?" Mark shouted at his brother as he ran in place.
"I'm proud of my three-inch pee-pee" Pee Wee shouted back at him.
"What did you say?" Mark shouted louder.
"I'm proud of my three-inch pee-pee!" Pee Wee shouted back at the top of his lungs. His eyes seemed to be focused on something at the back of the garage. His expression was strange, almost glazed. Mark looked into the darkness beyond their yard. Anyone out of doors in their neighborhood had most certainly heard him.
"Okay, once more around the yard and we'll see if you're actually learning anything!" Mark shouted.
Pee Wee took off running really fast and stumbled this time, falling face down onto the driveway. He yelped as he hit. Both trophies hit the concrete and shattered. Pieces of gold painted metal and marble scattered.
But Pee Wee's attention was focused elsewhere. It felt like his penis had gotten snapped off when he fell. He had landed face down and his erect penis had scrapped hard against the rough pavement. So had his chin and elbows. The small rug burn on his penis was more of a bloody scrape. He sat up and tenderly held his diminutive erection, now softening, crying softly and whispering to himself.
Billy ran over to him and knelt down beside him. He helped Pee Wee to his feet, and turned back over toward Mark announcing heatedly, "This is over!" then led him back into the house. "This isn't toughening him up," he continued in anger, "this is torture."
Mark sat down on the ground and started thinking about everything that had just happened, while Scott began picking up the pieces of Pee Wee's shattered trophies. Mark's mind was filled with memories of the past few days. He thought about everything that had happened with Pee Wee during the past few weeks. He wondered if he was actually helping to toughen his brother up, or if he had just become as big of an asshole as Randy ever hoped to be.
Back inside, Billy helped Pee Wee into the shower to get him cleaned up. Pee Wee tried to pee, but it burned so badly that his urethral sphincter involuntarily shut off the flow. Afterward, Pee Wee sat on the edge of his bed while Billy looked for something to disinfect his scrapes. He came back with a bottle of alcohol, some cotton balls, and some gauze that he had found in the bathroom cabinet.
He cleaned Pee Wee's elbows and knees as Pee Wee winced. The alcohol stung as he touched it to his abrasions. Billy wrapped gauze around his elbows and knees fashioning a bandage. Then he looked down at Pee Wee's sore penis.
Pee Wee understood, and his eyes went wide. He said nothing, just shook his head.
But Billy applied alcohol to another cotton ball and prepared to clean the underside of Pee Wee's penis, which was now an angry red color. "Peter, we got to," Billy said as he dabbed the alcohol laden cotton ball on Pee Wee's penis and began working his way up. When the sharp pain of the alcohol penetrating his sensitive wounds hit him, he instinctively pushed Billy's hand away. The needles were back, and it felt like cold fire. Billy shoved him back on the bed, and laid across his stomach as he tried to continue to disinfect his abraded shaft. Pee Wee was beating him with his hands as he applied the alcohol. When Billy extracted a small piece of gravel out of the tender skin, Pee Wee screamed and bit his shoulder. Billy got up off of him and Pee Wee lurched to his feet, running awkwardly around the room as if he were trying to put out flames.
"I thought I was gonna drive you outside of town and make you run back. Mark said we were gonna toughen you up, make you run and exercise, teach you how to fight. I didn't know about this other stuff." Billy said, regretfully. "I swear."
Pee Wee got in bed naked, and pulled the top sheet over him. He didn't say anything. Billy watched as Pee Wee turned onto his side and curled up into a ball.
"Listen, Pee Wee," Billy said, "Mark is being a butt about this, but he's right about one thing. You have to start standing up for yourself. Think about it."
Billy looked back at Pee Wee as he left his bedroom and started down the stairs. Pee Wee listened as Billy and Mark got into an argument downstairs. The argument seemed to devolve into a scuffle and something got knocked over onto the floor. Billy called Mark an asshole just before Pee Wee heard the door slam shut. Then Billy's car started up and he drove away.
A few minutes later Mark and Scott came up the stairs.
"You should put a steak on that eye," Scott said.
"Yeah," Mark said. He stood in the doorway looking in at Pee Wee, who was laying in his bed in the darkness. He could hear his brother whimpering. "Scott, did I take it too far?"
"Um, probably." Scott said. "But he's got to toughen up. I know my brother. And his friends! This won't stop." He reached out to touch the swelling under Mark's eye, which was already darkening. This was the second shiner he had gotten since the whole thing began. Same eye. "Billy really got you!"
"Yeah," Mark said again, "but it was supposed to be Peter."
The two boys continued down the hallway, leaving Pee Wee to wonder just what Mark had meant.