“Well? Go on then, get out. You don’t want to be late to work, do you?”
Todd was in the driver’s seat of his brother’s truck, and they were parked on the street, a block down from the construction project where he’d spied on him the day before. His brother was in the seat beside him, crushed up into the cabin as best he could. He hadn’t really realized how large he’d grown, until he’d climbed into the cab, knees crunched up to his chest, head bent over to keep from being pressed against the ceiling. He…didn’t want to get out. He didn’t want anyone to see him, not looking like this.
Todd had not been kind to his brother during the night–he’d left marks, purposeful ones, all over his brother’s aching body. Lash marks across his ass and back onto his shoulders and neck, cigar burns on his thighs, bruises all over, including a black eye he’d given him, after feeling a brush of teeth on his cock while his brother had been giving him head. He looked battered and broken–and the clothes his brother had given him to wear this morning hid nothing–just a pair of short denim shorts, pockets hanging out the bottom like the daisy dukes Kyle had chased in his teens, and a t-shirt cropped short, showing off the welts across his lower back, where the hair didn’t cover them up. He looked over at Todd, pouting slightly with his fat lip. “Please bro…please, can we just go home? You…you can fist me, all you want, but don’t…I don’t want them to see me like this.”
“Oh Kyle, I can fist you all I want, no matter what,” he said, slapping his face lightly, but enough to make Kyle flinch slightly, “But right now, what I want, is for your whole crew–hell, for the whole damn town–to see you looking like a beaten piece of meat, dressed like a fucking whore. Now get out of the car, and lets go get you to work.”
Kyle fought, but his body obeyed all the same–his brother’s voice didn’t give him a choice. Without thinking about it, he took a cigar and lit it, which eased his nerves slightly, and he waited for his brother to get out and come around to the sidewalk with him. “They…they won’t even recognize me, will they?”
“Maybe not a first, no, but that’s why I’m coming with you,” Todd said, “To make sure they know who you are, and what you’re for,” he said, slapped Todd on the ass right in front of an older couple walking down the street, who looked away in shock and disgust. Kyle…didn’t know what to feel. He was almost thankful for his now shrunken cock, at the moment, so no one could see how hard he was, and he squeezed the dildo in his ass, thankful he was at least plugged. He thought about the older man, thought about him turning around and calling him out on his shame, calling him a whore, shoving him against the wall and beating him, making him suck his cock right here in the street, and he turned back and tried to get back in the truck–only for Todd to grab him with a gloved hand and drag him back.
“Please…please, I don’t want to be this, I don’t want to do this…”
“Do you know, Kyle, how many times I had to walk the halls of school with a black eye, or a swollen nose?” Todd said, linking his arm in his brother’s, and walking him the block to the construction site, where Kyle could see his co-workers–his friends–gathering to get started for the day. “More times than I can really count. At least you enjoy it. At least everyone seeing you as the muscle bound slut masochist turns you on more than anything. You know what I think? You’re afraid you’re going to like this. You’re afraid you’re going to like this so much you’re going to want it. And you know what, Kyle? You’re right.”
They rounded the corner, and Kyle saw the first couple guys see him, and look shocked. Then came the recognition, a moment later. “Kyle? Is…what the fuck happened to you, man?”
His face was red. He couldn’t speak. He wanted to die, he wanted them all to fuck him. He wanted to be humiliated. He wanted it all to stop.
“Just a normal night, right guys?” Todd said, as the men clustered around them, eyes going a bit cloudy from his smoke, looking at the older fellow walking with their muscle bound worker, “I mean, which one of you guys here hasn’t spent a night with your crew slut, beating him while he begs for more, fisting his hole, covering his face with spunk? I bet every single one of you has, right? You can remember, can’t you Kyle?”
He could remember. He could remember them all, and Kyle realized he was forgetting as well. Forgetting all the women he chased and battered, all of the conquests, all of the macho posturing he’d wasted his life with. No–he remembered better now, remembered all the men he’d slept with, all the cruel, vile things they’d done to him, that he’d begged them to do to him. The men around him, the eyes were turning cruel, the mouths twisting into leers, more than one of them rubbing their cocks through the front of their pants, thinking about their last nights with Kyle, and thinking about how they could use another one soon.
“Is that fucking Kyle? You fucking piece of fucking shit, you’re late again!” An older man, the foreman, pushed himself through the circle of men, and met Todd, who brushed him with his gloved hands, warping him just slightly, and Kyle fell to his knees in front of him. “Sorry…sir, I’m sorry. I just had to help my brother out, and I lost track of time. I can make it up to you right sir?”
Todd pushed the cigar into the foreman’s mouth, and stepped away. “Yeah, you can make it up to me, in the trailer, you fucking slut. Get going.”
Kyle booked it into the trailer, and for the next several hours, the men listened to the cries and screams of their crew slut, as the foreman worked him over, and when the foreman stumbled out, sweaty and exhausted, he sent each member of the crew in for a break, like usual. By the end of the night, Kyle was limping along with Carl, a particularly thickly forearmed bricklayer, already hungry for a night with his ass full of him–and whatever else he might feel like doing to him. He deserved it after all–but he needed it, more than anything.
Bracken's Corner 