Long Lost Brother
“Are you gonna get the door, dad?”
Terry leaned in from the kitchen where he was cooking dinner, his son Derek was splayed out on the couch, watching TV. He’d heard the knock–he’d just hoped his son might get up off his ass for once, but no cigar. He knew the job market was bad, he knew that more and more kids were coming to live at home after college, but that didn’t make it any easier sometimes. He left the kitchen and went to the front door. He wasn’t expecting anyone–it was probably just the girl scouts or something–he opened the door, and his heart leapt into his chest in terror.
“Terry! It really is you!”
Like out of his nightmares. Evan, his younger brother.
“Well, go on, invite me in. Nice and calm now. Don’t do anything to upset anyone.”
“Come…come on in, Evan.”
“Thanks bro,” Evan pushed past him and into the living room, where Derek looked up from the TV, “And who might this be?”
“That’s my son, Derek,” Terry said, “Derek, this is your Uncle Evan.”
“Uncle Evan?” Derek asked, “You never said you had a brother.”
“Really Terr? You never told him about me?”
“Would you have expected me to, after what you did to–?”
“Shut up Terry,” Evan said, and his brother’s mouth clamped shut. “It’s very nice to meet you, Derek, and I’m excited to get to know you. Evan’s offered to let me stay here for a while so I can get back on my feet. Unemployed, this economy, you know?”
“Ugh, tell me about it. I went to college and there’s fucking nothing.”
“Well, you can tell me all about it later. Right now, your dad and I have some catching up to do, right Terr? Why don’t we go somewhere more private, like your bedroom?”
His mouth still shut for him, Terry led his brother upstairs and into his bedroom. Evan shut the door behind them, and pulled off his shirt, then unbuttoned his jeans and let them droop, showing off his drooling cock, “Oh Terry, I missed you, you know, after you ran off like that. Looks like you’re doing well for yourself though.”
Terry scowled at him.
“You can talk, for now, but polite, please, and only at a reasonable volume.”
Terry sputtered, “You…you…how the…how did you find me?”
“Well, it did take a while, I admit, but here I am. And it looks like none of that conditioning has worn off in all these years–isn’t that impressive? Now get over here and show me how much you miss sucking my cock, bro–I certainly have missed your mouth.” Terry tried to resist, but he dropped to his knees and started blowing his brother. “And how about that boy of yours! He looks real nice, you know. I think he takes after his uncle though, don’t you? Now, don’t worry–you have a real good thing going here, no one else will even know I’m here. You’ll keep going to work at that big bank, but…well, when you’re home, you know who’s in charge?”
Terry kept sucking, and so Evan pulled his cock free.
“Who’s in charge, pig?”
Terry glared at him, but relented, “You are, bro.”
“That’s fucking right,” Evan said, and drove his cock balls deep into his big brother’s throat.
“That’s right Derek, just relax. You trust me don’t you?”
Terry was at work, and Evan had been living with them for close to a month now. Derek had quit looking for work–it seemed like all of his time was taken up hanging out with his uncle. He was kind of gross, but pretty cool overall.
“You trust me more than your dad, right?”
“Y–yeah…my dad’s dumb.”
“He sure is. Your dad’s weak.”
“A pig. A dirty pig bitch.”
“Fuck yeah…pig bitch.”
“Go one, jack off, imagine your dad in a fucking sty, covered with mud. He’s two hundred pounds heavier, fucking obese. Did you know your dad used to weigh 500 pounds? I was so proud of him, and then he escaped, and went and lost almost all of it. Well, we’re gonna put it back on him, aren’t we? We’re gonna show that pig what happens if you disobey, right?”
“Right, Uncle Evan.”
“Now you’re in the pen too. You’re in the pen, but you look different.”
“Yeah. You’re fatter too. You have a big gut, covered with hair, but the rest of you is bulky with muscle, and you have tattoos all over your body, even your cock.”
“Fuck…fuckin’ love tattoos…”
“And you reek. You haven’t showered in months, and you fuckin’ love it. You don’t need to be clean. Being clean is for weaklings, not people like us. Not real men.”
“Nah…don’t want to be clean.”
“You’re not smart either. You’re dumb as a brick. You never went to college, you didn’t even finish high school. You’re fucking mean though, you pin down your pig dad and you rape his ass, don’t you?”
Rape his…his holes, yeah, fuck.”
“That’s a good boy–you’re gonna be one hot daddy fucker before long, aren’t you?”
“Yes sir, Uncle Evan.”
“Now open up–I wanna fuck your throat while you jack off, imaging yourself raping your pig dad.”
Yeah, Uncle Evan was great, actually. He took Derek to get his first tattoos the other day. Derek had always wanted tattoos, but his stupid dad wouldn’t let him. Well fuck him…yeah, fuck that pig. Derek was gonna do what he wanted. And what he wanted was whatever Evan wanted. That was how family worked, right?
Done for the day–he hated this part. The anticipation. Terry stepped out of the office building and took a moment to light his pipe. His fucking pipe. He’d quit smoking after Evan had force fed him cigarettes before, but here he was, smoking again, and he loved it. He loved it because Evan loved it, but…but he loved it too. Himself, inside all of this, and that’s what he hated most. His own complicity.
Six months now, and he’d already had to buy a collection of new suits. Two hundred and eighty pounds, and still growing. Everyone at the office just assumed he had a new girlfriend fattening him up. Her name was Claire. She was really nice, just really shy, preferred to stay at home, somewhat old fashioned. She liked his beard. He liked his beard too, or so he told everyone. It didn’t actually matter whether he liked it or not, he had to grow it out.
He’d had the chat with his boss today, about retiring early. He certainly had enough invested that he could live comfortably, but wouldn’t he get bored? No, he said–they set a target date for him leaving in another four months, and then he’d be free, or trapped, depending on who was standing where.
He got in his car and drove home, making sure to get caught in traffic jams when he could. He parked the car in the garage next to his brother’s and son’s motorcycles, shut the garage door behind him, and stripped out of his suit, throwing it in the laundry by the door, and got changed into his “pig clothes”–the overalls he had to wear when he was home, the same ones he’d been wearing for months straight, the crotch stained with cum and piss and the front matted with food stains. Fuck, he was hungry. Yeah, he was such a hungry piggy, fuck yeah. He snorted, rubbed his hardening cock through the denim, opened the door, and crawled into the house on his hands and knees, still smoking his pipe.
Derek and Evan were smoking and kissing in the living room, in their own slobbish world. The whole house was trashed, it reeked of piss and sex and sweat. Derek–he was so far gone now. He loved Evan, but couldn’t he see what it was doing to him? He didn’t even remember going to college anymore, he spoke like a hick. He had more tattoos than his uncle now, his cock and balls pierced in more places than Terry had thought possible. Still, food first–food was what pig had to think about, yeah. He crawled into the kitchen, set his pipe on his shelf, and dug into the mass of food his masters had waiting for him in his trough.
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