Small Town Slave Boys Chapter 3
Small Town Slave Boy Reboot
This story is a reboot of the original Small Town Slave Boy story.
This story will be found in the gay/authoritarian subcategory. Despite being tangentially connected to the College Magic Series, there are no supernatural elements in this story.
Dylan Morgan is the son of a homophobic minister named Craig Morgan. He is one of four children in the Morgan household, not including their cousin Kieran who came to stay with the family when he lost his parents at the age of 12. This story tells of his life and how he became a slave to his best friend Kurt Groth. He has a sister Elizabeth who is seven years older than him, a brother Donald who is four years older than him and another brother Thomas who is two years younger than him. His cousin Kieran is one year older than him.
Dylan is a small boy and will grow to be a small man. He is a cute kid, but he's skinny and lacks any sense of self-worth. He also has a small penis, which is a source of embarrassment for him. Unlike his brothers and his sister, he is gay. Much of his trauma and lack of self-esteem come from the fact that his authoritarian father made it clear from his words and his actions that he hated gay people and thought they were tools of Satan.
This story is mostly told from Dylan's point of view, but occasionally the point of view shift to another character. The text will always tell you when there has been a shift in POV.
There will be scenes of dominance and submission, as well as some bondage and domination, and a little light masochism, but this is not a story of objectification, and it's not a one-sided story. It's a love story with D/s and BDSM elements.
There will be some non-consensual scenes in later chapters, non-consensual in the sense that the main characters will choose to engage in some activities to avoid being outed too early, but the activities between the principal characters are consensual.
For those who appreciate this kind of story read on; others be forewarned.
This story is fantasy. In the real-world consent is not only important, but also sexy.
Please remember that NIFTY is a free site that provides an invaluable resource for men like us. Please consider donating to help ensure that site remains available for everyone. https://donate.nifty.org/
You can contact me at pseudonominius@gmail.com.
Author's Notes
· If you want to be informed of new stories, send me an email, and ask to be put on the notification list. I'll send a notification. Everyone will be on the bcc line so your email address will not show to other members.
· I have created a google group for people who want to get more information about my stories in that format. Only I can view the member list, so data should be secure. If a reader sends a question my way, I will post the answer to that group after removing any information about the reader. It's a good way to get more background information if you want. https://groups.google.com/g/pseudominius-stories
· While this storyline is designed to mostly stand alone, you may have a better idea about some of the background if you read The Alchemist and Alchemy and Songcraft, since Kieran Morgan is a principal character in both story lines. This story stands alone, however. When these characters interact with the characters in College Magic, the entire scene pertaining to this story will be included here.
· My Stories
Small Town Slave Boys Chapter 3 (The Collar)
Dylan
It was near the end of summer break, and in two weeks Kurt and I would both be seniors. During the previous year, I had turned 17 on December 18th, Kurt had turned 17 on January 18th and Steven had turned 18 in March. My cousin Kieran had gone to college two weeks ago and my father had driven him, which was weird. Steven was still living at home. He was planning on taking his basic education classes at the community college a couple of towns over, while trying to figure out what he wanted to do. But he knew that he could so some of the classes online. He still hadn't decided on a career path. In the meantime, he would be working part-time at Groth Automotives.
Since Kieran had left, the job of cleaning the church after services had fallen to me. I didn't want to do it. I'd come to hate my dad's church. But I didn't have a choice. It was only Sundays after church for two hours. Dad threatened to make me take a janitorial job at the church if my grades fell. I was counting the days until December 18th so I could move out, although I had no idea where I could go.
My homelife hadn't improved except that Tommy had taken over Kieran's room when Dad made us pack up all Kieran's stuff and put it in the basement, not that there was much of it. Tommy was a sophomore this year, so he was 15 and insufferable. I had stopped growing at 5 foot 5 inches, but Tommy was three inches taller than me and 30 pounds heavier than my own 130 pounds. He had a layer of fat, but he was strong underneath it. Now he was able to bully me physically as well as verbally. I especially hated how he referred to Kurt as my boyfriend all the time. It was too close to the mark, and it made me uncomfortable and fearful.
My oldest brother Donny was now 20 years old, and he'd had three jobs since graduating from high school. He'd lost his first job at the convenience store for smoking dope at work. Then he lost a job at the Feed and Farm store, where he worked for our brother-in-law Jerry Jepps, because he was stealing from the register. His current job was sorting trash at the recycling plant. Dad was threatening to throw him out of the house if he lost this job. I would have been happy to see him in dad's bad graces except that he'd doubled down on bullying me, and Dad was in a very unpleasant mood. People were beginning to mumble about Donnie, and some members of the congregation were asking one another if their pastor was just a terrible father.
Oh, and Mom had gone to rehab again after wrapping her car around a telephone pole. She'd lost her license to drive, and Dad was refusing to buy her another car. The screaming and yelling that came from their room at night was downright disturbing.
I was so glad to be getting away for two full weeks. Mr. Groth hadn't told my dad, but he was going away somewhere else for vacation and Steven was going to be in charge. He also didn't tell him that we weren't going to the lake house. It was undergoing a much-needed renovation. We would be lying low at the Groth house instead. It felt weird that we were deceiving him in that way because Mr. Groth hardly ever even hinted that he hated my dad, but he did. I thought it had to do with the hate speech he pronounced from his pulpit making Steven feel bad, but Steven always shrugged it off and said that my dad was an ignorant piece of shit, and he didn't care what he said.
I was heading straight to the Groth household after cleaning the church, and Mr. Groth would already be gone by the time we got there. We would have the house to ourselves. Kurt had volunteered to stay with me while I cleaned so he could drive me. I'd cleaned everything but the chapel, while Kurt had watched. My father had left just before we moved to the chapel.
Kurt locked the doors and then turned to me and said, "Clean the chapel in the nude."
I laughed. "You can't be serious. I can't do that."
Kurt sat down in a pew and said, "I think you're supposed to say `yes sir' when I tell you to do something."
Before I could say anything in return he stood up and pulled something out of his pocket. He held it out and I saw that it was a gold chain with thick chunky links. He opened it, and he said, "Unless you want to kneel before me and let me fasten this chain around your neck so you can say `yes master' instead."
I was standing in front of him with my mouth hanging open. This was my dream. I started to kneel, but Kurt put a hand on my shoulder.
"I want you to kneel before me naked," he said, holding out the chain.
I started to protest, but Kurt's eyes said that he wasn't interested in hearing it. I closed my eyes for a minute and then took my shirt off. I kicked my shoes off and then dropped my pants. Soon I stood naked in front of him. As frightening as it was, my dick was hard. I knelt before him and bowed my head.
I felt him fasten the gold choker around my neck. "If you accept my collar, bow three times and kiss my feet."
I bowed three times, then I pressed my lips to his shiny dress shoes. I wished it was his feet I wash kissing. The shoes were clean, but it wasn't the same.
"Thank you for the collar, Master. I will wear it with pride," I said. And I was proud. I'd waited for this, and I'd begun to think that it was never going to happen. Did this mean that Kurt had chosen me over Alicia? Did it mean that he was planning on being with me for ... for how long? For a week? For a year? Forever? I hoped it was fotever.
"Now stand up, slave boy, and clean this chapel," he ordered.
I stood up and gave a glance at my clothes, but Kurt gave the tiniest shake of his head. And I began cleaning up the chapel. Mostly it involved putting hymnals back into the boxes and cleaning trash from the pews. I just had to put stuff in the trash can. The regular janitor would empty all the trash cans. Occasionally while I was working, Kurt would walk by and stroke my butt.
"A master can touch his slave anyhow and anywhere he wants," he said.
Once everything was clean, Kurt said, "You understand that this collar means we're not playing games anymore. Unless you were joking about wanting to be my slave, you know that this is for real. I tell you what to do and you do it. You're mine. I'll let you walk any time you want to, but I chose you. And you said that you wanted to be my slave. If you walk, we're done."
"Yes master," I said. "I understand that this is real. I understand that you now own me, and I don't have a say anymore."
"I will be testing you to make sure that you're not playing with me," he said. "It's easy to pretend, but I'm not interested in playing a game."
"Yes master," I said.
"Then clean off the altar," he said. "Put everything on the floor for now but leave the altar cloth."
I had no idea where he was going with this, but I followed his commands to the letter. When the altar was bare, he said, "Climb on top of the altar and lie on your back."
I was afraid to hesitate, afraid that he would think I was playing a game, so I didn't. I climbed up onto the altar and lay down on my back. I could see the cross hanging on the wall over my body. I'd stopped believing in hell a long time ago, but my dad would make my life a living hell if he ever found out about this.
"I see that your erection hasn't gone down. Let's put it to use. Start masturbating, and do it slowly," he commanded.
I reached down to grab my cock and start stroking it. Kurt pulled out his cellphone and started taking video of the action. I was excited despite the fear of discovery, or maybe my excitement was heightened because of the danger. All I knew was that it felt good. I was getting close, and Kurt saw it,
He said, "Stop for a minute and pinch your nipples."
I started twisting and pulling on my nipples. That always felt good and soon I was approaching an orgasm just from the pain and pleasure in I was feeling in my nipples.
"Are you a faggot?" Kurt asked.
I knew he was filming but I didn't care at that point. "Yes master, I'm a faggot. I'm your faggot."
"Put a finger in your ass and fuck yourself on it," Kurt demanded.
I wet a finger in my mouth and then stuck it up my ass and started thrusting it in and out. My hips were beginning to buck up and down. I couldn't possibly hold off much longer. I was close to spewing.
"Don't cum until I tell you," Kurt said. "That cock and those balls don't belong to you anymore; they belong to me. And I'm telling you not to cum until I say to do it."
"No master, I won't," I said, although I had no idea how I would stop it. I was so close that it was almost painful.
"No let go of your little cock," he commanded. "And keep fucking your ass with your fingers. Let your other hand pinch your nipples."
I dropped my cock and moved that hand back to my nipples and started pinching them and twisting them. My need to orgasm wasn't receding this time.
"Tell me how bad you need to cum," he commanded.
"I need to come so bad, Master. I'm about to explode. I can't control it," I shouted.
"Then cum, slave boy," Master said. "Don't touch your little cocklet. Keep fingering your ass and playing with your slave titties."
"Yes master!" I shouted. My cock started spewing cum untouched, and I screamed, "I'm cumming, Master!"
When I finished, he said, "Scoop it up and eat every drop."
"Yes Master," I said, exhausted and covered with sweat. I scooped the cum off my body and licked it off my hands while Kurt filmed it. He didn't let me up until I ate it all.
He patted my shoulder and said, "Good boy. Now put everything neatly back on the altar while I bring my car around."
I made sure to put everything back precisely where it came from. I was caught up in what I was doing, so I didn't see the light on the back wall showing that the cameras were on. Nor did I see it when it went off. I went to put my clothes back on, but they were gone, along with my bags. And I was alone, with no clothes in the chapel. I waited nervously until Kurt pulled up in his SUV.
He came to the door and opened it. "Go out to the car while I lock up," he said.
"Can I put my clothes on Master?" I asked.
Kurt smacked my ass and said, "Go to the car. Your clothes are in there along with your bags."
I crept out to his car, carefully looking to see that no one else was around. When I got there, the door was locked. Kurt had just finished locking the church and putting the spare keys in the tithe box. He walked back slowly while I was panicking in the parking lot, hoping no one would see me. He didn't use the remote to unlock the car and he didn't let me in first. He went to the driver's side and unlocked his door, then he climbed in and reached over to unlock mine. I climbed in the car and looked around.
"Where are my clothes, Master?" I asked.
"They're in the back with your bags, but you don't need them. My windows are tinted," he said. "You did good back there. There will be occasional tests to make sure that you're not playing a game with me, but you passed this one."
He drove us back to his house. The most frightening part for me when he drove through a drive though to pick up some Arby's sandwiches. He ordered a dozen because they would stay fresh enough for a few days in the refrigerator. I wanted to cover up in the drive thru, but Kurt said, "Keep your hands down by your sides."
When he rolled down the window to pay for our order, the man in the window asked, "Why is that boy naked?"
My skin blushed and I wished I could crawl under the seat. "He lost a bet, and this is his consequence," he said with shrug.
The man in the drive though just shrugged as if to say, dumbass kids. Then we drove away. When we got to the house, Kurt told me to grab the bags and carry them inside.
"Can I put clothes on, Master?" I begged.
"No need, slave boy," he said. We have a long driveway and there are trees at the edge of the property. When I got out of the car he slapped my ass hard, making me jump. "And stop asking for clothes. You'll get clothes when you need them, and not until I say so. And I don't expect you'll be wearing them much for the next two weeks. This is a trial period to see whether you can do what you're told and you're pissing me off with all your whining about clothes."
I got out of the car, my face blushing because of my nakedness. The gravel was painful on my bare feet, but I walked around to the back of the SUV and started unloading the bags. Then I carried them into the house. I followed Kurt as he led me through the living room and into the basement. I was about to drop the bags in the family room, where we usually slept when I was here, but Kurt walked straight back into the guest bedroom.
"Put your bags in the closet," he said. "You won't need to unpack them because you're not going to be wearing clothes for the next two weeks unless someone comes over."
I put the bags in the closet and then stood there looking around the room, not sure what to do next. This was happening fast. I'd accepted Kurt's collar barely more than an hour ago and now he was different. He was more demanding. On a mental level, it was jarring, but on a physical level ... well, my cock was hard.
Kurt slapped me in the face and said, "If you don't have any other tasks to complete, you will kneel by meet and await further orders."
"Yes Master!" I said, falling to my knees in front of him. I knew the position well. I spread my legs and straightened my back, with my hands before my head.
Kurt's athletic shoe moved under my balls and lifted them. Then he used his shoe to move my hard cock from side to side. The roughness of the cloth was arousing me further.
"You little cock seems to like your new status as my slave," he said.
"Yes Master," I said. "My whole body likes it."
He chuckled at that last bit. Then he sat down on the bed. "Take my shoes and socks off," he said.
Somehow I knew not to rise to my feet in his presence without instruction, so I crawled the few feet over to the bed and knelt, sitting back on my heels. I pulled his shoes off, one at a time, and then his socks. I was staring at his sexy feet. I loved the look of them. Smooth brown skin on top, rippling muscle under the skin and strong toes.
Kurt was smiling down at me. "Massage my feet, slave boy," he commanded.
It was like he was intent on ordering me to do things I wanted to do. I started rubbing his feet, digging my fingers into his tight muscles, and working them until they relaxed. I finished one foot and moved on the next. The scent arising from his powerful feet wasn't unpleasant, but it was manly and powerful. My cock was dripping. Then Kurt moved his free foot to my crotch and started playing with my dick, batting it from side to side and pinching it playfully between his toes. I couldn't stop moaning while I worked his feet.
Once I'd finished the second foot, Kurt moved the foot that was covered in my precum to my face. "Suck your boy juice off my foot, slave boy," he said, touching my lips with his toes.
I opened my mouth and sucked his big toe inside. Beneath the taste of my own precum, I could taste his feet. I brought my hands up and held his foot to my face. I sucked each of his toes in turn, while his other foot played with my cock. I was ready to burst, but he stopped just before I could cum. Then he switched feet so I could worship both.
I was trembling with the need to cum when Kurt pulled his feet away from my mouth. "Now help me get dressed in something more comfortable, slave boy," he commanded.
I stood up and noticed he had a tee shirt, a pair of sexy briefs and a pair of athletic shorts on the bed. I carefully removed his jacket and lay it on the bed. Then I removed his shirt and his pants. Each article of clothing, I placed gently on the bed. Then I pulled his briefs down and Kurt's hard cock bounced on my head. Over the last year, it had grown to about nine inches. I wanted it in my mouth, so I tried to catch it.
Kurt slapped my face harder than before. My face was stinging, and he had a determined look in his eyes.
"What was my last command?" he said.
"To help you get dressed in something more comfortable, Master," I said.
"Then that's what you should be doing," he replied. "I know you want my cock, but your wants don't matter anymore. As a slave, your will doesn't matter; my will comes first – always!"
"Yes Master!" I said.
Then I held his briefs for him. The pouch on this pair held his cock snug, but pushed it forward, like it was on display and the microfabric material clung to every plane and curve of his body. I could see his pubic hairs peeking out around the pouch and it made me swallow hard. Then I held his athletic shorts for him. They were the kind that came almost down to the knee. And finally, I helped him into his tee shirt. It was for a football team I didn't know, but I knew very little about sports.
I dropped back to my knees when I was done and waited for his next command.
"You hesitated to obey me in the church; you tried to cover your little cock in the drive through; you tried to suck my cock without permission; and you failed to respond with the `yes master' when I gave you a command, several times," he said calmly. "If you're not serious about being my slave, put your clothes on and I'll drop you off at home. If you are serious, open that bag on the bed and take out the paddle."
"Yes Master!" I said. I didn't want to leave, and I wasn't playing around. I wanted to be Kurt's slave.
I opened the bag and pulled out the paddle. It was sitting on top of a lot of other stuff whose purpose I didn't know. It was black and flexible with holes running through it. I knelt before Kurt and held the paddle up, like I was offering it to him. He took it and swung it through the air and slapped his hand with it. It made a resounding thwack.
"Lie down on the bed, with your legs hanging down. I want to see that round butt of yours on display," he commanded.
"Yes Master!" I acknowledged. I hadn't been spanked since I was fourteen, and my dad never made me take my pants off. I felt vulnerable in this position.
Then Kurt held the paddle in front of my face and said, "Kiss the paddle that's going to discipline you."
He held the paddle to my lips and I kissed its cold smoothness.
"Count them off for me or they won't count," Kurt said.
"Yes Master," I replied. "How many am I getting, Master?"
Kurt rubbed my ass with the paddle and said, "You're getting five more than you were going to get because you asked the question. Slaves don't need to know the details. Slaves just need to obey and take what's coming to them."
"Yes Master!" I said.
"Don't worry, slave boy, you'll learn," he said, rubbing my ass again with the paddle, "or you'll wear a red ass until you do."
Without warning, Kurt brought the paddle down on my ass, sending a wave of pain up my spine. I cried out in pain, and Kurt followed it up with three more in rapid succession. I was yelling myself hoarse already. Another landed on my ass, and I clenched my cheeks as I cried out.
"How many was that, slave boy?" he asked.
With the pain, I'd forgotten to count them. "Five, Master," I yelled.
He smacked my ass again. "I think you'll find it was zero, since you weren't counting them," he said. "I think you'd better wise up and do what you're told."
With the next swat, I remembered to yell, "One Master!"
Kurt rained down blow after blow on my ass. I was crying tears of pain after the first ten. But I didn't forget to count them aloud. By the time we hit twenty, my ass had gone numb. At least it was numb when it wasn't being struck by that paddle, but I was afraid that I was going to punished again because I could feel myself peeing on the mattress, peeing a little more with each blow. In the end, I took thirty swats, not including the six I took before I started counting.
"Stand up, slave boy," he demanded.
I stood up, tears still streaming down my face. I was breathing hard. "Yes Master," I sobbed belatedly.
He rubbed my aching ass with his hand. "You took your discipline well, slave boy," he said. "Do you still want to continue being my slave?"
I thought about it for a moment. The paddling Kurt had given me had hurt worse than anything I'd experienced so far. And he was colder and more demanding than he had been. But the thing was that I did want to be his slave. It was exciting and arousing. It fulfilled something inside me.
"Yes Master," I replied.
Kurt laughed. "I'm glad that you took the time to think before answering, but I knew you were going to say yes. You enjoyed that spanking."
"Yes Master," I said, not sure that he knew what he was talking about but knowing that was the expected answer.
"You don't believe me," he said. "Look at the bed and tell me whether you enjoyed that paddling."
I looked at the bed and saw a puddle of semen. I glanced down and saw that my cock was coated with it as well. Somehow I had climaxed while he was paddling me. I must have only thought I was peeing when really I was cumming.
"Yes Master," I replied, knowing now that it was true, "I did enjoy the paddling."
Kurt hugged me and patted my aching ass with his hand. "I saw the moment you came. It was written all over your face. Know kneel so I can give you instructions."
"Yes Master," I said, dropping to my knees.
"I want you to know that taking you as my slave means that I'm breaking up with Alicia," he explained. "I'm not the kind of guy who can cheat on his partner. And that's what you're going to be. You will be my boyfriend, but you'll also be my slave. It was your willingness to submit to me completely that made me choose you over her. You also try harder when taking my cock in your mouth. We'll be keeping this relationship secret from everyone outside the family. I can't even acknowledge you as my boyfriend until you're 18, or your parents would freak out and send you to a camp.
"You're going to be over here as often as we can arrange it, and you are going to be working hard. This isn't going to be a sex game. You will be my slave and I will treat you like my slave. You will be punished when you deserve it and sometimes I may spank you just because we both enjoy it. I'll let Dad know when he gets back from vacation, so you'll be naked here in the house a lot. Dad and Steven will also have the authority to discipline you, and even to use you sexually if they want.
"Knowing my demands, do you still want to continue? Remember that I chose you because you were willing to submit to me completely."
I knew he wanted me to think it through instead of answering immediately, but there was no way I was going to say no. Once I'd heard him say the word "boyfriend", I was sold. He wanted me as his boyfriend and as his slave. I'd spent two years wanting to be either of those things and now I was going to get the chance to be both at once. It was too good an opportunity to turn down.
"Yes Master, I want to continue being your slave and ... your boyfriend," I replied.
"Now clean up the mess you made on the bed, then clean the basement," he commanded. "I'll check in on you. If you do a shitty job, I'll discipline you and then you'll do it again."
"Yes Master," I called after his back as he walked out the door and up the stairs, leaving me alone.
I pulled the sheets off the bed and put them in the laundry. Then I remade the bed. I placed the paddle on the nightstand and put the bag of toys on the floor by the chest of drawers, then I cleaned the entire basement. There was a laundry room, a family room, a weight room, and a guest bedroom. A closet in the family room acted as a second pantry.
Kurt
I went upstairs to have a couple of roast beef sandwiches. Steven was already eating. As usual he had stripped down to a pair of shorts. He preferred to wear the shorter weight training shorts over the longer athletic shorts most guys preferred. Steven was proud of his body, and I had to admit that he had good reason.
"Is your slave all settled in?" he asked.
"He is," I said with a smile. "He's more eager than ever, and he shot a load while I was paddling him."
"Don't abuse him, Bro," he said. "He's in love with you and he'll take anything you choose to give him. But abusing him will make you the dick, not him."
I sat down and slathered Arby's sauce on my sandwiches. I took a bite and chewed it thoroughly before swallowing. Steven was still watching me, waiting for a response.
"I'm not going to abuse him, but he gets off when he's paddled," I said. "He's a little bit of a masochist. And he wants to serve me. He wants to do the work around the house."
"All I'm saying, Bro, is that it's easy to cross the line," he said. "You need to talk to Dad when he gets back. You're just starting off down this path, but Dad's been doing it for ten years now. Ask his advice and follow it. Cory is Dad's slave, but Dad treats him with love and kindness. He only disciplines him when he needs it. Of course, Dad's in love with Cory, but you're in love with Dylan too, even if you don't want to admit it."
I took another bite to keep from responding right away. Steven had a way of seeing too much. I did love Dylan, and I was probably in love with him, but I wasn't sure yet. I'd chosen him for a lot of reasons. I loved the way he submitted to me. Alicia would never have done that. He sucked cock better than she did, even if he still couldn't take it all. And I'd discovered that I missed spending time with him more than I missed spending time with her. But Dylan was so ... lazy and unambitious. He wasn't stupid, but he was mentally lazy and intellectually incurious. With him I was getting a slave who would do everything I asked, but would it be enough to also make him my partner.
"Don't go all silent on me," Steven said. "You are in love with him. The sooner you admit that to yourself the happier you will be. And where is he? Why isn't he eating lunch?"
"He'll eat once he's done with his cleaning," I said. "The basement is a mess, and I need to teach him his place as a slave."
"Good for you," Steven replied, "but this is the thing I was warning you about. You can't withhold food from Dylan. He's 5 foot 5 inches and weighs 130 pounds. He barely eats anything anyway and he can't afford to lose any weight. Find another way to teach him his place."
I hadn't thought of that, and I was feeling a little ashamed of the fact that I'd missed it. I nodded and asked, "What do I do then, Oh Wise Guru?"
Then he told me, and damned if he wasn't right.
Dylan
I was kneeling in the slave position when Kurt came back down the stairs. He walked around and examined my work. He seemed to be satisfied because he came back into the room and said, "Follow me, slave boy."
I got up and followed him up the stairs into the kitchen. He snapped his fingers and pointed to two bowls on the floor. One was full of water, and the other had what looked like a chopped Arby's sandwich and fries covered with Arby's sauce.
"Eat your lunch," he said. "You don't need a fork or spoon."
It didn't look very appetizing, but I didn't argue. I bent down and started eating the food, putting my face into the bowl like a dog. I thought that Kurt was rubbing my butt until I heard Steven's voice. I hadn't even known he's come into the room.
"He must have behaved badly," he said. "You really reddened his ass."
"He's still learning to behave like a proper slave," Kurt replied. "I suspect I'll have to beat his butt a few more times before he learns."
They were talking about me, like I wasn't in the room. It was more humiliating than kneeling naked on the floor eating like a dog. And the humiliation was washing over me like a wave, leaving a strange feeling of arousal in its wake. My dick was getting harder; it seemed to like the humiliation.
"It's a pretty little butt," Steven said. "Have you fucked it yet?"
Kurt replied, "Not yet. I'll be claiming him soon."
My butthole twitched when he said that. Did he mean he was going to fuck me? I'd been sucking his cock for months, and he'd been playing with my butt, but he'd never tried to fuck me. I'd been dreaming of it, but I didn't know if Kurt's big cock would fit inside me. Steven had given me a 10-inch dildo to practice my cocksucking technique, and I had tried to get it inside me, but I couldn't. It had hurt so much that I'd given up. But if he wanted to do it, I knew that he would make it fit. As his slave, it was my duty to submit. But it was strange hearing him and his brother talking about it while I was in the room.
"Finish your lunch, slave boy. You have a lot of work to do this afternoon," Kurt said. "Being my slave won't be all about sucking my dick and getting fucked. I expect you to do more work around here than you have been doing."
I choked down the last of the sloppy sandwich and fries and then said, "Yes Master. I'm almost done."
Then I lapped up the water and knelt in the slave position I'd been taught. Kurt and Steve looked over at me and laughed. Then Kurt said, "Go wash your face, slave boy."
I jumped up and ran to the small half bath just off the kitchen and looked in the mirror. I had sauce around my lips and a few streaks of dirt on my face. I used the sink to clean my face. Then I dried it and went back into the kitchen. I immediately assumed the kneeling position.
"He seems fairly well trained for a new slave," Steven said.
"Except he forgot to acknowledge the last command, so I'll have to spank him again later," Kurt replied.
Damn! I thought. I thought I said "Yes Master". But if did, I wasn't going to argue with Kurt about it.
"Get up, slave boy," Kurt commanded.
I stood up and realized I had no idea what to do with my hands. Kurt walked up behind me and placed them in the small of my back. Then he kicked my legs apart until they were a little wider than my shoulders.
"This is your standing rest position," he said. "When you're told to stand, this is the way you will do it."
His right hand reached down to grab my balls and his left went around my torso to rub my ass. He patted my sore butt and gave my balls a little squeeze.
"Do you understand the position?" he asked.
"Yes Master," I said.
"You're a good slave, Dylan," Kurt said. "Keep trying your best so can you improve a little every day."
"Yes Master," I said. "I want to improve and be the best slave I can be."
Normally I took a whole day to complete the housework that had built up over the week, but Kurt and Steven kept me running from job to job with no breaks. I swept and mopped the kitchen, did the dishes, and cleaned up the lunch mess. I tidied the dining room, the living room, and the ground floor family room, then I vacuumed. Then I went upstairs and tidied the bedrooms and vacuumed the floors. Last I gathered and sorted the clothes and started the laundry. While the laundry was going, I dusted all the shelves. The whole time I was working, Kurt and Steven were playing video games, tossing the football outside in the back yard, or playing chess at the dining room table. I had to interrupt my work frequently to fetch them drinks. At one point they made me stand still while they measured my waist, inseam, height, chest, and neck. They jotted the measurements down but didn't say what they were for.
When everything was clean, and the laundry was done, folded, and put away, I entered the family room where Kurt and Steven were stretched out watching a movie. I knelt in slave position and waited for them to acknowledge me. Neither of them paid me any attention until the movie was over. Then Kurt took me around and inspected my work. He seemed a little disappointed to find nothing I'd missed.
Once we were downstairs again, Steven said, "Pizza will be here in about 10 minutes. Get your slave ready to serve us while we eat."
Kurt led me into the kitchen. "Your first task is to set the table," he said.
"Yes Master!" I said and I went to the cupboard and opened it.
I felt a sharp sting as Kurt swatted my red ass with the flyswatter. "Aren't you planning on washing your hands first, filthy slave boy?" he asked, swatting me again.
"Sorry Master," I yelped.
I washed my hands and then went to take three plates out of the cupboard. I felt the sting of the flyswatter again.
"How many people are eating at the table?" he asked.
I was confused for a moment, then stammered, "Two Master?"
"That's right," he said. "Two for dinner. You will serve during dinner."
"Yes Master," I said, putting one of the plates back.
Then I pulled out two forks and table knives. The pizza place was just up the road, and I knew from experience that it arrived hot and the Groth's often used forks and knives to eat it. I set them on the table and then I took out two large glasses and filled them with ice. I sliced one lime and then juiced two more. I pulled two cans of coke from the refrigerator. I knew that both Groth boys liked virgin Cuba libre, which was just coke with lime juice.
When the doorbell rang, I jumped in fear.
Kurt whispered in my ear, "Once you turn 18, I may start making you answer the door in the nude."
"Yes Master," I whined with a querulous tone.
Kurt was kissing my neck from behind when Steve came in with the pizza. He'd purchased a large combination pizza and it was cut into twelve pieces. The guys sat down at the table; I made their drinks and delivered them. Then I folded the lid to the pizza box over and took the box and a spatula into the dining room and served them a slice of pizza each. They ate it and talked about some activities they would like to do over the next couple of weeks. I stood attentively by while they ate. Occasionally Kurt's hand would stroke my bottom while he was eating. Steven watched while Kurt was playing with me.
"Do you want to feel his butt, or squeeze his balls, Bro," Kurt offered.
Steven reached out and stroked my butt as well. "He's cute, Kurt, but he's yours," Steven replied. "I'll pass, no matter how tempting it is."
"You need to find yourself a boy of your own, Bro," Kurt said. "We should work on that this year."
"I'm sexually aggressive, but I'm a versatile guy, Kurt," Steven replied. "I'm not into the whole slave thing, but you be you."
Kurt smiled and said, "Besides, Dylan's the wrong Morgan boy for you."
Steven's face grew cold. He jumped up from the table and said, "Fuck you, Kurt. You're being a real asshole right now."
Then he stormed out of the room, slamming the back door on his way out.
Kurt sighed and said, "Shit. That came out wrong. Clean up the mess. I'll be back to feed you in a few minutes."
"Yes Master," I said as he ran out of the room.
Steven
I was tempted to kick his ass, but my brother and I had never had a fist fight. Dad had always stressed that family needs to stick together. But my neck had gone cold, and my fists were clenching. I stormed out into the back yard and threw myself down into a chaise on the deck. I felt sick to my stomach, like I had every day since he'd left for college.
"I'm sorry, Bro," Kurt said. "It was supposed to be a joke. I thought it would be funny. I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to be an asshole; but I was. I won't make excuses."
He sat down in the chaise next to me and put his hand on my arm. Kurt was my little brother, and I loved him dearly, but he didn't understand how I felt. He took these things lightly. I'd known he was in love with Dylan for a couple of years, but he'd shrugged it off and pretended that it was no big deal. He'd even dated Alicia, who was a very nice and very pretty girl, while denying that he was in love with Dylan. I'd never teased him about it. Not once.
"Kurt," I said, "you don't take your feelings seriously, but I do. I spent years dropping hints to him, trying to draw him out. Every overt move I made was deflected with an unconscious innocence that tore my heart out. He was so afraid that anyone he knew would see that he was gay, that he ... that he cut himself off from every feeling. It was a wonder the way he could evade the girls. They were always after him, but he didn't even realize he was doing the same thing to me.
"And I let him get away. If I'd applied to that college he went to, maybe I could have brought him out when we were away from all this, away from his fucking uncle and his fucking aunt and every homophobic bastard in this fucking town. I'd never even heard of Severan College until Kieran got his acceptance letter.
"I am so fucking happy for you, Bro. You've got the guy you love, and no matter how kinky and off-kilter your sexual hang ups are, he's right there with you. If you don't fuck this up, you're set for life, but I ... Fuck dude! I've been with every hot and closeted gay guy at our high school, but none of them mattered to me in the slightest because I'm in love with a guy who can't admit who he is, a guy who's so neurotic and anxiety ridden that I'm terrified that he'll break down completely if he ever does admit it."
Kurt stood up and put his arm around me. He was a good kid, even if he could be an ass sometimes.
"I'm sorry, Bro," he said. "I'll never mention him again. I'm not as insightful as you are. I knew you liked him, but I had no idea that you were so head over heels in love with him. Dude, you're right. You're not like me. I hate to say it, but you're like Dylan."
I wanted to punch him in the face, but I realized that he was right on some level. Dylan held out hope for Kurt and it worked out for him. But I wasn't passive like Dylan and Kieran wasn't active like Kurt. I needed a plan. There was no community college in Severan. I'd checked. I was going to investigate remote schooling possibilities with my community college so I could try to move to Severan and woo Kieran. I had to try. If I didn't move fast, someone else was going to get him.
In my mind, I saw myself calling him up and inviting him over for dinner. When we were alone, hundreds of miles from this place and his relatives, I would grab him and kiss him. Once I showed him what was possible, he'd be mine. I knew that he liked me. He just couldn't allow himself to love me because he couldn't admit that he was gay. If he knew I was gay, maybe he would feel safe coming out. I'd make sure he never had to come back to this town. I mean, I hoped he'd come back so we could visit my dad and brother from time to time, but we wouldn't have to see his aunt and uncle.
I patted Kurt on the shoulder and said, "Go take care of your boy, Kurt. I know you were looking forward to spanking him again tonight but take my advice. Don't do it. You've pushed him enough today and he's done everything you asked. Take him down to basement and make love to him. Be gentle because you have a gigantic mutant cock instead of a normal human size cock and he's a little guy. Prepare him properly."
"I have plenty of lube," he responded.
"You'll need the lube because ... you know, giant mutant dick, but you need to relax him first. Have you eaten his ass yet?"
"No," he replied. "I've been afraid ... Bro, I don't want to get poop in my mouth."
"Do you get poop on your fingers when you play with his butt?" I asked.
"No, he always douches well," he replied.
"Then finger him first. If there's no poop, there won't be any when you eat his butt. Don't be afraid; just do it. You're the dom. It's your job to eat his butt before you fuck it," I explained.
"Do you eat ass?" Kurt asked.
"Of course, I do, if I know it's been washed first," I said. "And Kurt, if there is a poop incident, I expect you to be mature enough not to berate him or treat him like crap. Just carry him into the shower and douche him out again. He loves you, and that means you have an obligation show him affection as well. Being a dom isn't about always getting your way. It's a responsibility, more than a privilege. If you tell him that you're responsible for his pleasure, then you need to make sure that he feels pleasure."
"Thanks for the advice, Bro," he said, "I'll do it."
"And Kurt, jokes about your giant mutant cock aside, don't try to shove the entire thing into him the first time," I said. "You want him to enjoy it, and he's so in love with you he'd never tell you if you were hurting him. We'll talk about inner sphincters and colons later. Halfway tonight. No more."
"Yes sir," Kurt said before going back inside.
I was left there to brood and to plan. I either had to get Kieran for my own, or somehow get him out of my system. Meanwhile, I texted Damian. He was a year behind me, so he was still in school next year. He was cute enough and I was feeling super horny. He was more than happy to hear from me, and he could come over, but he had to be home by midnight. He lived ten miles up the road. That wouldn't give us much time, but it would be long enough. An hour or an hour and a half.
He couldn't see Dylan running around like a little naked slave. That would ruin everything. I texted Kurt and told him to get his slave to the basement before Damian could get here.
Dylan
I had finished cleaning up and I'd put everything away. Kurt and Steven were big eaters and they'd had four slices each. That left four, but there was no way I could eat that. The pizza was in a plastic container in the refrigerator. And I was kneeling in slave position by the back door waiting for Kurt to come back inside. When he did, he walked past me, tousling my hair on the way.
He opened the refrigerator and pulled out the pizza. "How many slices do you eat, Dylan, one or two?" he asked.
"Usually one, Master," I replied, "but I'm hungry today."
He took out two pieces and put it on a plate. Then he checked his cellphone and said, "Stand up and follow me downstairs."
"Yes Master," I said, getting up and glancing around the room to make sure that Kurt hadn't left a mess for me to clean up.
Down in the family room, Kurt was sitting on one of the couches. He snapped and pointed to the floor in front of him. I knelt there and waited with my eyes lowered.
"Look up so I can see your face," he commanded.
"Yes Master," I replied. He was smiling at me and tearing the pizza into little pieces.
"Have you enjoyed your first day of slavery, Dylan," he asked. "Be honest with me."
"Yes Master," I said. "It was hard work, but I liked it because I was doing it for you."
Kurt held out a small piece of pizza. I went to take it from him, but he pulled it back and shook his head.
"Open your mouth, slave boy," he said with a smile. "I'm going to feed you."
"Yes Master," I said, opening my mouth.
Kurt put a piece of pizza in my mouth. I chewed and swallowed. I was hungrier than I'd thought, and the taste of that pizza was flooding my mouth with flavor. Normally I had an indifferent relationship with food. You would too if you had to eat my aunt's cooking. Kurt fed me small pieces at a time and his foot toyed with my penis the whole while.
"I want you to know that I liked your first day of slavery as well," he said. "It was like the game we used to play, but infinitely more satisfying. There's nothing like the feeling of owning a slave, especially a pretty little slave like you."
I was blushing. "I'm not good looking, Master. You're the handsome one."
In my mind this was nothing but the truth. Kurt had beautiful brown skin and expressive brown eyes. His lips were full and sensual, and his other features were strong and powerful. He was tall and powerfully built with a broad chest and strong arms. He had a thin but manly covering of hair on his chest, arms, and legs. Looking at him made my penis throb.
"I'm going to paddle you tomorrow for contradicting me," he replied. "You are very pretty. Everyone thinks so. You're small and skinny, which some people don't like, but I think it's sexy. I like that I can pick you up and carry you around."
"Thank you, Master," I said. "But if people think I'm good looking, why don't I have any friends?"
"What am I, chopped liver?" he asked with mock outrage. "Dylan, you don't have a lot of friends because you're kind of weird. You don't like sports; you don't like ... well, you don't seem to like much of anything at all. And we go to a high school in a homophobic town and everyone knows that you're gay."
"I like you, Master," I answered. "You're pretty much the only thing I'm into. I like being with you. I like doing things with you. I like doing things for you. And I like being your slave."
Then Kurt did something I didn't expect. He leaned over and took hold of my arms and pulled me onto his lap. I could feel his cock pressing against me and if felt right.
"And I like you," he said. "In fact, I love you. That's why I wanted to own you. That's why I chose you. You aren't the only one who was following me around, but you're the one I chose. But part of the reason I chose you was because you wanted the same thing I did. We both want me to be in charge completely. We both want me to own you."
He kissed me, first on the forehead and the temples, but then on the lips. I went limp in his arms and let him take control, but I responded with all the passion I could muster. He explored my body like he never had before. His fingers found places I barely remembered existed.
"Shit!" he said. "We got to get cleaned up before the main event."
"The main event, Master?" I asked.
"The main event is when I fuck you, slave boy. When I take possession of your whole self, you'll belong to me in a way that's deeper than you can imagine," he said. "Do you want that?"
"I want it more than you do, Master," I said. "It's all I've wanted for the last three years, maybe more."
Kurt picked me up and carried me into the shower and we cleaned each other. Then he watched me douche my butt. It was a little embarrassing to have him watch me. I didn't want him to see what was inside me before I was clean, but he didn't flinch. He seemed relieved when everything came out clean on the third round, but he insisted I do one more for good measure. Then we brushed our teeth and went to bed.
Kurt laid me face down on the bed and then he knelt behind me and ran a tongue along my crack. Then he touched my hole with his tongue, and I gave a yelp of pleasure.
"Does my little slave boy like that," he asked.
"Yes Master, it feels so good. That's why I'm crying," I replied.
"I've cheated you because I was afraid," he admitted. "I've eaten Alicia's pussy many times, but I was afraid to eat yours. Now I'm going to eat it and then I'm going to fuck it, and that's something you'll have that she never did."
"Thank you, Master!" I cried. It wasn't just pleasure anymore. I was happy at his words. I hadn't really believed him before when he said that he'd chosen me. I kept expecting him to tell me psych this is just a game! But he was going farther with me than he had with Alicia or anyone else.
His tongue kept touching my hole and it made me feel weak. My knees had turned to jelly, and my stomach was doing flips. Then the most amazing thing happened. Without lube, my hole just relaxed and went lose. Then his tongue was inside me, touching me in ways that a finger can't. My back went limp, and my head lolled to one side and my breathing grew shallow.
Kurt stopped probing me with his tongue and he started massaging my hole with his lubed finger. He was putting a lot inside me. Then he rolled me over onto my back and lifted my legs.
"Your little hole opened up for me like a flower," he said. "It was like this most intimate part of you recognized that I am your master and I own it."
It was hard for me to respond given how I was wracked with pleasure, but I managed it. "Every part of me belongs to you, Master. Every part of me wants to give itself up to you."
He lined his massive cock up with my hole and pushed forward. He was big enough to cause me problems no matter how much I'd been prepared. But he squeezed his cock inside me. My eyes rolled up into my head and I started moaning uncontrollably. I thought he was all the way in, although I would later learn that he'd stopped halfway just like Steven had told him.
Kurt picked up a gentle rhythm and thrust in and out. He was fucking me for real. I felt like I was his girlfriend ... or his boyfriend. And I could feel myself surrendering more of myself with each of his thrusts. Then he hit something inside me that made my body jump and my cock twitch. Precum shot out the end, or maybe it was cum because it was thick and translucent.
"Uh ... uh ... uh," I cried, each a little higher in pitch each time.
Kurt took hold of my hands. They were cold and shaking. My legs were wrapped around his waist, and I was pushing my butt back to meet each of his thrusts. A pressure built in my perineum and my scrotum tightened, pressing my balls against my body.
"I can't hold it, Master!" I cried. "I'm going to cum."
"Do it, slave boy; do it, Dylan," he said, grasping my hands tightly and pressing forward further than before. "Cum for your master."
And I did. I lost control and spewed all over us both. His cock was so big that I could feel it expand and shoot inside me. I was screaming a high-pitched scream of pleasure and Kurt was moaning in a more manly but no less enthusiastic fashion. When he pulled out of me, I felt empty. I was crying uncontrollably.
Kurt held me in his arms. "Shh, it's okay. You're mine, all of you," he said. "You're beautiful and you're mine."
He scooped my cum off our bodies and fed it to me slowly. I licked his fingers until they were clean, then I asked, "Can I suck your cock clean, Master?"
"Lick me clean, slave boy," he said.
I sank down and licked his shaft, tasting the strange but intriguing combination of my ass, the lube, and his cum. When he was clean, Kurt pulled me up next him and we spooned all night.
Steven
Damian pulled off my cock and licked his lips. He'd cleaned my cock of his ass juice and my cum. He crawled up to cuddle in the crook of my arm. At 6 foot tall, he wasn't short, but he felt small in my arms. He was certainly handsome enough, with his dark tan (a couple of shades lighter than my own light brown skin), his green eyes with tiny flecks of gold, his snub nose, and his broad mouth. His lips were less full than mine, but he didn't have my African American heritage.
I held him close and hugged him tight. He was fit, with a slender swimmer's body like mine. And he adored me. He came running whenever I called, and he seemed willing to accept whatever I was able to give him.
"Your cock feels so good inside me, Steven," he said. "I wish I could stay the night."
I stroked his hair. He let his grow out when swimming wasn't in session, and his hair grew fast. It was light brown, and it was beginning to get wavy.
"I wish you could stay too," I said. "I must watch my brother and his friend for the next couple of weeks, but we need to find some time to get together. I'd like to take you out sometime, like on a date. We could go to Evansville or Louisville, or even to Indianapolis if we can find an excuse."
"We could go to the NHRA Grand," he said. "It's in Indianapolis."
"You're into drag racing?" I asked.
"Nope," he said, "but my dad would think it was manly enough not to raise suspicion. And if my 18-year-old former swim teammate, whom my parents adore, were to offer to take me with him on a planned trip, they'd let me go. I'll be 18 in October, after all, so I'm almost an adult."
"We'll think about it," I said. "Let me see what my finances are like. In the meantime, you've gotten stubbly since swim season ended. Take care of it before we get together again. Your legs are sexy, but they're like sandpaper."
"I'm thinking of taking it all off, like you do," he whispered, letting his hand slide down to stroke my own hairless cock.
"Do it," I said. "But I wish you would let your hair grown out a little. Longer hair makes you look pretty."
He punched me playfully in the arm. "I don't want to be pretty," he said. "I want to be handsome, like you."
"And if I want you to be pretty?" I teased.
He looked me in the eyes and said, "If you want me to grow my hair out, I will. Steven, I'd do anything for you. I want to come out when I turn 18, and I want you to be there when I do it. Are you ready to be public?"
I kissed his little snub nose and said, "Everyone I care about already knows that I'm gay, Damian. Everyone else can go fuck themselves."
"I knew your dad and brother knew, but your grandparents are okay with it?" he asked, running his hands across my smooth chest.
"My mom was an only child and her parents died when I was little," I said, "and my dad's parents used to refer to my mom as dad's nigger bride. Do you think I give a shit what they think?"
"Sorry," he said. "I didn't know your grandparents were like that."
"Like I said, I don't give a shit about them or their feelings," I said. "They don't want much to do with us anyway unless they're begging dad for a handout."
I glanced at the clock and said, "You need to get ready to go. I don't want you to be home late. I don't want questions since I'm 18 and you're jailbait."
Damian started getting dressed. "That's ridiculous, you know," he said. "It's bullshit. We've been fucking off and on since I was a freshman, and you were a sophomore. There's less than a year difference between our ages."
"But we live in Indiana, youngling. Nothing here is required to make sense," I said. I kissed him again and then threw him his shirt.
I walked him out to his car and kissed him some more before he left. I wasn't being fair to him. I was still in love with Kieran and Damian was in love with me. I'd called Kurt an asshole earlier, but I wasn't any better."
Characters
· Bethany Morgan. The mother of the Morgan kids and the wife of the pastor. She's a passive-aggressive woman and a homophobe. She's 44 at the start of the story.
· Cory Lundgren. Bethany's youngest brother. He's short, blond, and blue-eyed, like Dylan. He stands 5 foot 7 inches tall and weighs 150 pounds. He's fourteen years younger than his sister. He was thrown out of the house for being gay when he was 18. He's 30 years old at the beginning of the story. Corwin Alan Lundgren. He works as Mr. Groth's assistant, but he's secretly his slave.
· Craig Morgan. The pastor. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 160 pounds. He's thin and mean, with a sour expression. Although secretly gay, he married Bethany Lundgren to cover it up. He and his younger brother Kenneth Morgan (Kieran's father) never got along. He took Kieran in when his parents died. He's 45 at the start of the story.
· Donald Morgan. The oldest Morgan son. He's 5 foot 11 inches tall and weighs 180 pounds. He's heavy-set but strong. He has dark red hair and a lot of freckles. He's mean-spirited and domineering, and he made his brother Dylan's life hard.
· Dylan Morgan. The main character who is the middle son in the Growth household. At 17, he was 5 foot 5 inches tall and weighed 130 pounds. He has blond hair and blue eyes. He's submissive and has dreamed of being his best friend's slave since middle school.
· Elizabeth Jepps. She's the only Morgan daughter. She's much like her mother. She's seven years older than Dylan. She got married at 18 to get out of the house. They rarely see her except at church. She's married to Jerry Jepps.
· Jerry Jepps. He's the husband of Elizabeth Morgan-Jepps. He's six years older than his wife and thirteen years older than Dylan. He works as a manager at the Farm and Feed store.
· Kurt Groth. He's the youngest Groth boy, only a few months younger than Dylan. His mother was black, so his skin is much darker than his father. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 175 pounds. He muscular but less bulky than his father. He has medium brown skin and black hair with tight curls. He wears it medium length on top with a low fade. He is bisexual, but he's in love with his best friend Dylan. He wants to dominate him totally and own him as a slave.
· Roger Growth. Owner of Groth Automobiles, Groth Farm Equipment, and several properties around town. He's forty years old and has two sons, Steven, and Kurt. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 200 pounds of solid muscle. He has light brown hair and fair skin. His wife died 10 years ago, and he's been Cory's master.
· Steven Groth. The oldest of the two Groth boys. He stands 6 foot 4 inches tall and weighs 190 pounds. He has light brown skin and wavy black hair that he wears very short. He was a swimmer in high school and keeps his body shaved even after graduation. He has light amber eyes. He was in love with Kieran Morgan all through high school and he regrets not pressing Kieran to come out of the closet when they were in school together. He's a year older than Dylan and Kurt.
· Thomas Morgan. The youngest Morgan son. He's two years younger than Dylan but he's about the same size. He has red hair and freckles. He joins in with his oldest brother teasing and tormenting Kieran and Dylan.