|by Y Lee Coyote|
Copyright on this story text belongs at all times to the original author only, whether stated explicitly in the text or not. The original date of posting to the MMSA was: 03 Aug 2006
The following story is fiction. It contain scenes of domination and spankings. If such subjects are offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.
This work is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice.
The author would appreciate your comments -- pro and con, including constructive criticism, and suggestions.
Mike Ward has kindly given permission to continue his story, Window Box Lad (id=11280).
Sixteen year old Orlando writes a letter to his parents on their return from vacation. Orlando and his thirteen-year-old brother, Christopher, stayed alone for almost a month. As Orlando write, he thinks about what happened during that time. The letter shown normal width while the thoughts are indented.
Dear Mama and Papa,
This is a very difficult letter for me to write but during your holiday when you left us alone, I learnt a great deal about my brother and myself. Unfortunately, I am not so proud of what I discovered. Of course, when you announced your trip, that you were at long last going to trust us to be on our own and put me in charge I was thrilled. Christopher was also thrilled although not the part about being under my control.
I was flying high since our parents took off and left me in charge especially of my pesky kid brother. I had not realized how much I had been abusing him by my constant teasing, razzing and picking on him. Looking back I see that I felt that putting him down would make me bigger. In actuality, it did just the reverse. He told me to back off repeatedly but I just did the opposite. Even my mates told me to lighten up – he was just being what he should be – a thirteen-year-old boy – like I had been some three years before. I was corrupted by power.
One might even say I was cruel for I made him wear his tightest and shortest shorts when he went to the cinema with his mates on Saturday. He was justifiably angry with me. "You're just a little boy and little boys wear shorts." I told him. The painful and unpleasant truth is that he has more in his shorts than I did at his age.
I was, regrettably, not up to the position. This became evident within a couple of days. I was too strict and abused my power. Christopher properly resisted. If he had been twins, then they would have been justified to have physically taken control but he is just one and still smaller (and consequently weaker) than I. Instead, he overpowered me with logic using his intellect. He made me listen to him. I then learnt to respect him in a way I never could have conceived just a week before. I was (and still am) so very ashamed of how I had treated him. I even cried.
I certainly went too far when a day later I told him that I was going to bathe him like our parents did until we were eight years old. I thought that would be a punishment for his cheek. Christopher objected but I forced him with my superior strength. It turned out to be damn hard and not just because he did not cooperate. I paid extra attention to his tackle and tried to humiliate him by calling it just a wee-wee. In truth, he is more (is that better?) developed than I was back then – with lots of hair. He is almost as big as I am now and still growing.
The next day I went off with my mates and thought that he would do the same. To my great sorrow at the time he did not. He spent the day in the house and found my hidden contraband. Stuff that all guys collect even though they have been forbidden to do so. Stuff that parents will not tolerate. I had some fags, some liquor and some porn mags.
I was going to call you and say we need you to come home or get a babysitter. Christopher dissuaded me from doing that and spoiling your holiday. He insisted that we were not babies and could take care of ourselves. You had left us sufficient money for food, for play and for the unexpected. It is not that hard to do laundry and dishes with the machines we fortunately have.
When I came home, he was waiting – Papa's dreaded cane in his hands. When he pointed with the cane at my contraband, I nearly died for Papa would kill me if he knew of it.
Later he told me that I turned pale when I was begging him not to tell our parents. Once I did that, it was all over but the details. On his command I immediately put on a pair of his shorts he had prepared. I now looked like a little boy and I certainly was obeying like a little boy. I begged some more.
Christopher led us. We did not starve. We did look like bums. We even did some reading each day. He did NOT bully me as I did to him. As you saw when you got home the house was not in shambles. In all honesty, we did well because of him. Although he was not in charge he showed me the right path and we took it.
Papa had used the cane on five occasions and I feared it. It turned me into a blubbering sissy, baby boy when he used it on my bare bottom. Christopher had watched that and knew it also; he snarled: "You need to be throughly punished." He was right, of course. There was nothing to say except to confess to our parents and that was even more petrifying.
He did not have to tell me what I had to do. I had done it for Papa and now, for the first time, I would do it for him. I let the shorts fall and bent over and grabbed my ankles. No words could more clearly say what that meant: I RECOGNIZE THAT YOU HAVE THE RIGHT AND AUTHORITY TO PUNISH ME. I was slipping deeper into his control whatever I did although I did not know it. He lowered my blue briefs. I was embarrassed even though we were frequently naked with each other. I was learning my place.
After that, we followed the rules you had set for us. Christopher led by example. On Saturday night I came home late. He did not yell at me but just asked what you would have done. We both knew that you would have spanked me. I agreed that I would ask you for that well-earned spanking but then I decided that I did not want to wait. I asked Christopher to do it so I would not have to worry about for more than a week. I just gave him the cane. I felt much better after he used it. As you always said, after the spanking the slate is clean. Let me assure you that I was very well caned by him, for with all due respect, Papa, he canes better than you do.
Then he took the dreaded cane to my behind. The first cut was very painful. Far more painful than from Papa. It got worse. Over and over he struck me with that horrid cane. I totally lost track of how many cuts and how long I was there. Well, it is hard to kept track of these things as you're turned into a blubbering baby boy, screaming in pain, by your little brother. What I had no doubt about was I was being justifiably and severely punished by my little brother and I was accepting it without any resistance. In my heart I knew this was as right as painful.
The next thing I knew was he was holding my head as I knelt and continued to cry in agony from his world class caning. He had opened his fly and his man cock was jutting out hard as a rock. For the first time it was in my mouth. I did my best to please him so that he would not cane me again. I accepted his sweet essence when he lavished it on me. Some of him has become a part of me. That makes me feel good.
I did not feel right after that wearing long trousers while Christopher was in short trousers after that. I told Christopher but he said it did not matter; that it was just what is inside that counts. As soon as he understood that I would feel better with shorts like he had, we got to work on it. It turned out to be very easy. We cut down my old longs (the one you replaced last Christmas) and used the Wundaweb in Mama's sewing basket and the iron to make the hems. I had forgotten how comfortable shorts can be in the summer heat. I hope that you won't stop me from wearing them.
He was talking softly. Eventually, I recovered enough that I could understand what he was saying. "I'm in complete control now. You will obey me in every way." Then he turned them into questions and I responded.
"You are in complete control of me." "I will obey you in every way." "I will accept your punishments when I fail." "You are the brother-in-charge at all times." We kept this up for a long time. I was learning the new truths of my existence. Over and over he made me say them. Each time they became truer. After we ate, we cut down a couple of my oldest longs to make tight, short-shorts. They are so much cooler than my heavy jeans. I learnt another new truth: "I like to wear shorts."
I look forward to continue learning from Christopher. He is the natural leader of us and is so even tempered. It was wonderful that he took charge without putting me down when you were away. I know that he will always be our leader when you are away.
In the morning we went to the chemists and got a depilatory cream. A few of the other guys looked at me funnily because of the shorts. Back home he transformed me. First he trimmed my pubic and armpit hairs as short as he could with a scissors. He explained that I was just a little shorts boy and didn't need such an indication of manhood. Then he smeared the cream over my crotch, my pits and my legs. The wonderful cream that makes the nasty, ugly hair go away. Within the hour I was nice and smooth like a little boy should be. My pubis feels so nice and smooth now. It's brilliant without hair.
Every time I go wee-wee or shower I feel my hairless pubis and repeat: "I'm just a hairless little boy." Of course, I remember how he has a big thick bush of man hair about his big man cock. But that is right since he is in charge. Standing in front of the mirror, naked, it was clear that he was the man and I the hairless little boy.
Although he will always be younger, I no longer think of Christopher as my little brother but much more like a big brother to be looked up to and respected. I've asked him to exchange places at the dinner table as a sign of my regard and admiration but he said that you must approve it first. I hope that you will agree to this.
I'm glad that I wear shorts like Christopher does. That way I'm more like him; well at least outside for inside he has a big man bush and I'm a smooth little boy.
There is something very special that he does twice a day. He unselfishly shares his own essence with me. Every morning I'm allowed to suck his hairy man cock and savour his man juices. At night he shows his love by depositing his cream in my rear. Both ways it becomes part of me so I am being made of more of him. I so happy that I able to make him feel good as he does this.
Your most loving son,
I like being Christopher's LITTLE brother. He such a good BIG brother the ways he looks out for me. I do hope that mum and dad let us continue this way.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
The next day Christopher and his father had a man-to-man talk about the situation. After making sure that he had seen his brother's letter, he told him he wanted to know what really happened.
"The whole ugly story, Papa?" asked Christopher.
"I have to know, Christopher. I need the full truth even if it is unpleasant. It is already clear that is the case."
Christopher was most pleased that his Papa was treating him like an adult rather than a little kid.
"Yes, Papa. Orlando was very much the bully and when you went away it got worse. One of the things they say about bullies is that they are also cowards and I thought that might be true of him. I dug out the stuff he knew he shouldn't have and confronted him with it. Rather than having the courage to face you realizing that you would understand he was growing up, he immediately begged me not to tell you and said "I'll do anything, but please, don't tell Papa." I'm sorry to say it; he's such a baby.
"I had expected this and had your cane ready. I had been practicing on my pillow for sometime which let out my anger and I learnt technique. He knew what he should do without being told. He dropped his trousers and bent over for me like he did for you. He all but handed me a certificate declaring that I was entitled to punish him. I did. He felt better immediately and said that I should be in charge. Like you said many times, Papa: "After the spanking the slate is wiped clean."
"Of course, we could have called you but that would have spoiled your holiday and destroyed your faith in us so we struggled on. Orlando wanted to, even needed to be led so I lead him. Orlando showed that he just wanted to be a little boy without responsibility so, by default, I was effectively in charge.
"I also spanked Orlando once. He did not want to do his share of the household chores so I told him that I would tell you so that you could deal with it. Again he did not want you to know nor to wait a week, so he asked me to punish him. I took him into our bedroom and undressed him like you used to do to me. Then I sat on the bed and pulled him across my lap. I gave him a few with a slipper so he could feel properly punished. He thanked me, made the expected promises and we got back to the chores."
"I must say, Christopher, that you did a good job especially at your age."
"Thank you, Papa. I'm ever so pleased that you think so."
"Your Mama and I have discussed this and even without the details guessed the essence of what happened. We have agreed that you have earned more privileges as you have proven that you are capable of handling more responsibility. We are also agreeing to Orlando's requests so you will now sit to my right at the dinner table. Of course, we will let you decide if you want longs or shorts for school."
"Thank you, Papa. I must remember to thank Mama also."
"We also want you to do something else. We want you to keep a close eye on Orlando. He seems to need and want your guidance. In order to do this, you need to be able to punish his misbehaviour so you have permission to spank and cane him occasionally if necessary.
"Thank you very much, Papa. I'll try very hard to live up to your expectations."
Christopher left beaming. His older brother was under his control. The world was wonderful.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Three weeks later Orlando and Christopher set off for opening day of the school year in their new uniforms. One in shorts and the other in longs.
They both felt they were wearing the right clothes.
© Copyright A.I.L., August 3, 2006
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