MEMORY OF ALEX

BY OWENM
memoryofalex@hotmail.com

[ part 8 ]

The thin trail of smoke drifted towards the ceiling, the cigarette perched carefully between my index and middle finger in the way I had seen it done on television many times before. I just couldn’t manage to bring it to my lips again, the memory of how the searing smoke made me retch like I was going to puke at any moment. It wasn’t as if Alex did much better when he tried. At least I had the decency to remain quiet while he hacked up a lung. His barely suppressed giggle when I doubled over in my fit of coughing infuriated me, and it was plain by the look on this face when he saw my anger that he knew he would pay for it.

We bought them from a vending machine in the back of the diner in town. I stood watch while he dropped the quarters into the machine, my heart racing the entire time that one of the sweaty, fat guys in overalls would have to pass us by to use the john. It took forever for him just to pick what brand to buy. I kept telling him that it didn’t matter, just to pick something, but for some reason he was agonizing over every little thing, like what menthol meant and why some were called “100’s”. He finally came out with the packs stuffed into the pockets of his shorts, the telltale bulge patently obvious as we slinked our way back out of the diner, the money for our cokes and doughnuts still on the table. I didn’t get to see them until we were safely out of town, alone with the hum of the late afternoon mosquitoes. He bought Camels and Kool.

It was my idea to actually try and smoke one. I thought that we should at least try to be like any other normal kids and taste the forbidden fruit of the cancer stick. I guess that’s why any other brothers would have bought them, but it wasn’t the way things worked with us. He actually wanted to get cigars, but they didn’t sell those in vending machines.

As usual, the cigarettes were Alex’s idea. Most new things were his idea. I could lay claim to only a couple of recent flashes of inspiration, while his inventive mind never seemed to run short of fresh ways for him to suffer. I looked down at him from the comfort of the couch. He squirmed and whimpered into his gag, his wrists and ankles tightly bound in an excruciating hogtie. Even his collar was attached with a rope to his ankles, forcing him to arch his back and bend his head back. In the most casual way, I let my arm fall from the couch, the trail of ash dislodging from the cigarette, hot embers landing on his bare back.

“Mmph!” he groaned, jerking in his restraints. I sighed.

“For crying out loud, I think you’d get used to it by now. We’ve done almost the entire pack.” He settled back down, lying as still as he could. I knew that his muscles were getting sore, he always complained after being hogtied for a while how everything ached. Even though I had ordered him to be completely motionless, I was willing to tolerate him wriggling around just a little.

“This is getting boring,” I announced, pushing the lit end of the cigarette against the heavily bruised flesh of his tender ass, finding an unmarked spot amongst all the other burn marks. He cried out, rearing his head back as I ground it in until there was nothing left but the filter. “Stop being such a baby,” I chided as he broke into a choked sob. “I’m only going to let you take a break if you promise to be quiet and behave, ok?” He forced himself to swallow his tears, the shaking in his body immediately settling into an unnaturally stiffness as he forced himself to be still.

“That’s better,” I said after letting him hold the position for about a minute. He relaxed, but kept silent. I bent down and unstrapped the gag from his mouth, a thin trail of drool hanging from the rubber ball as I pried it from his mouth. He had been wearing the thing for almost an entire day. I put it in after dinner last night and just left it there, his jaw jammed open and his tongue cruelly scrunched in the back of his mouth. I could see him wince as he forced his mouth closed.

“May I please have some water?” he said hoarsely.

“You’re supposed to stay silent,” I growled.

“I know, but I’m so thirsty I can’t stand it anymore.”

“Just shut up,” I ordered. “If you can’t keep quiet then I’ll tie you to your bed without any until morning, understand?”

He nodded, defeated. Slowly, I untied him, letting him slowly stretch out his tired muscles for a few minutes until he lay still on the floor, his head resting on his arm. “That’s enough rest. I need to get sucked off.”

Without a word, he pulled himself up. I turned around on the couch, planting my feet on the floor, my legs spread apart as he shuffled on his knees between them. My hands behind my head, I leaned back and let him pull my underwear down, his hands gently massaging my throbbing dick for just a moment. I closed my eyes, the warmth of his mouth drawing a gasp from my lips only seconds later, his tongue working over me. There was no way I could ever tire of this. Every time, it seemed to grow in intensity instead of weaken, the sensations stronger, the time until my explosive orgasm growing shorter. Maybe he was just getting better at it. I grimaced as the climax overtook me, forcing my groin into his face and then collapsing back into the couch when it was over.

“That’s better,” I sighed, wiping the sweat from my face with the sleeve of my t-shirt. “You can go and get some water now.” He immediately got to his feet and made straight for the kitchen while I pulled my underwear back up. From the sound of it he downed four glasses full before he came back into the room and stood in front of me.

I narrowed my eyes. “I know I said that you could go free tonight but I decided to put you on punishment instead.”

“But Dad’s coming home for dinner tonight!” he answered, his eyes fiery. “That’s not fair!” “It’s not supposed to be fair!” I said back, just as hotly. “You laughed at me when I tried to smoke so you’re getting punished tonight, and because you talked I’m going to make it worse.”

His eyes were full of fury. “No. I want to see Dad.”

“That’s fifty more lashes,” I said in a low voice.

“Fuck you. I’m getting dressed.” He turned to leave.

“You know what happens if you don’t cooperate!” I shouted. “I won’t tie you up anymore!”

He snorted without a pause. “Yeah, sure. You like it too much to stop.”

“I do not!” I yelled after him, but he ignored me. “I don’t!” He slammed the bathroom door behind him, the shower turning on almost immediately to drown out any protest I might decide to hurl at him.

I sat back down on the couch, my face burning with anger at what he said, punching the pillow as hard as I could in a futile effort to funnel my rage somewhere. “You’re going to really pay for that,” I snarled to myself. Tomorrow morning, after Dad left, I would march him back down to the shack. He would spend the whole day hanging by his hands, or maybe even his ankles, food for the mosquitoes. I would whip him until bled, until he couldn’t even scream anymore, and then I’d keep lashing him until he passed out. My dick stood at attention yet again even though it had just been satisfied.

“Dammit!” I shouted, throwing the pillow across the room. My eyes stung, but no tears began to flow. What in the fuck was wrong with me? It was the first time Dad was going to be home in a week, and I knew that Alex was looking forward to it as much as I was. Even more, I was looking forward to all three of us just hanging out, the idea of us sitting at the table and eating like a real family sweeter than the finest candy.

Dad even said he might get out the projector and we could watch old home movies, something we hadn’t done since the accident. At first, I didn’t understand the look on Alex’s face when Dad made the suggestion a few days ago, but then he spoke softly, saying how he was starting to forget what Mom and Jeremy looked like. Dad looked upset and wound up going to the bathroom for a while. I was pretty mad at him, but lying awake while Alex sobbed quietly in pain, tied to his bed with clamps placed strategically on sensitive parts of his body, I understood what he meant. I wasn’t sure I could remember their faces either. I wanted to watch them too. I wanted to watch them with him, with Dad, the three of us together, the last remnants of our kind.

If Alex hadn’t stopped me, I would have done it. I would have beaten him and left him to suffer for the night without ever letting him even say hello to Dad. I would have ruined everything, and for what? More and more it kept happening, the desires rising up inside me, the words coming out as though I were nothing more than a puppet on a string, acting under the influence of some outside power that held me firmly in its grip. Everything else was forgotten, nothing existed except the raw, visceral need to hear him screaming, to see the fear in his eyes, the power flowing through me blacker than the dark side of the Force. There were times when all I wanted was to lay in bed next to him in the way that we did so rarely anymore, our naked bodies pressed together while we talked until we passed out sometime late into the night.

But how could I do that when he was locked in the closet, or tied to the table, or left in any of the half a dozen other creative places where he usually spent the night? If I wanted to, I could just untie him, couldn’t I? I could just leave him free for the night, any night I wanted. But no matter how much I needed him to be my big brother again, I still found myself reveling in the bittersweet symphony of his agony night after night, day after day. I knew it was useless to resist, to tell myself that it could be different. No matter how strong my resolve, it would be shattered hopelessly every single time. It was like the assemblies at school, the ones where they told us how bad it was to drink and use drugs, how you couldn’t stop yourself once you started and you would become an addict.

That was me. Addicted to torturing my brother.

I was so scared two weeks ago when I beat the truth from him in the shack that I had gone too far, that I had really hurt him in a way that would require a doctor or a hospital. But I didn’t, and just like every time after a day in bed he was much better and ready to get started again. I had sworn to myself that night that I would never do it so hard again, that I would be more gentle with him. That flew right out the window the very next time I had him tied down to his bed. If anything, the beating I gave him was even more vicious, and with the exception of a few short respites, he had spent the entire time since then in bondage and in pain.

That’s why I was so mad at him now, because his accusation was hitting far too close to home. He knew, he somehow understood my insatiable need as far more than just a little brother helping his big brother out. I was as much a part of this as he was. It was like riding a roller coaster. The first time getting on I was scared, but after a few times I got used to it, then I grew to love it. Now it felt like they were running it over and over again, and even though it was still as glorious as the first time, they wouldn’t let me off when the train pulled into the station. Faster and faster it whipped around the track, dangerously close to derailing each time.

With a groan I pulled myself from the couch and went to the room to get a pair of shorts, taking the bowl of used cigarettes with me. The bathroom door was still uncharacteristically shut, closed against me even though it meant that the steam from the shower would make it unbearable in there, adding to the already rampant mildew that seemed to sprout from everywhere. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he was doing in the shower. After all, I didn’t let him get off at all for the last four days, even when he begged me to just let him shoot last night as I teased his painfully hard dick before leaving him tied on his back, unable to finish himself off. My shorts retrieved, the stubbed out filters dumped surreptitiously out the window, I slouched back onto the couch, the sound of cartoons mixed with the inevitable late afternoon static as the skies prepared to dump on us in what had become a daily ritual. Alex didn’t say a word when he came out of the bathroom. All I heard was the bathroom door opening and the bedroom door slamming.

I didn’t even hear the bus pull up in front of the house, the rain was so loud. I just saw the front door fly open, Dad literally soaked all the way through even though it was a short run from the highway into the house. He was clutching several brown grocery bags close to his chest.

“Hey kiddo, give me a hand, would you?” I sprang off the couch to help him with the bags, the paper wet enough that I thought they would give way and spill their contents everywhere at any moment.

“I thought you were going to bring back McDonald’s,” I said, a little disappointed.

“I had a better idea,” he said with a wink, grabbing a towel from the bathroom and rubbing his hair dry. “I thought that a couple of steaks, some Rice-A-Roni, corn on the cob, nice fresh rolls, and an apple pie for dessert sounded good.” A grin crept across my face. “Or would you prefer a Big Mac?”

“No, steak sounds good,” I said, trying to hide my eagerness. I couldn’t remember the last time we had steak. It cost too much.

“Alex, come on out here,” he called. The bedroom door opened a moment later, Alex dressed in his long sleeve button down dress shirt and a pair of jeans, his wet hair neatly combed. Dad looked at him strangely. “Look at you, all spiffed up. Have you got a date or something?” he said with a wink.

“Dad, geez.” Alex rolled his eyes and shook his head, then flashed a withering look over at me. I knew why he was all dressed up like that. It was because it was the only long sleeve shirt he had left that still fit him, the only shirt that would cover the rope marks on his wrists, the welts on his arms, and the raw areas around his neck where the collar chafed. He picked up one of the bags and carried it into the kitchen. “Can I help make dinner?”

“Well, I sure as heck am not doing it all by myself.” He rubbed my hair as I looked up eagerly. “And before you ask, yes, you can help too. Go get washed up.” I ran off to the bathroom as pots and pans clattered away, the aroma of melted butter already drifting past my nose as I hurriedly scrubbed the dirt and smells from my hands. Dad was getting ready to put the steaks in the pan when I was finished while Alex stirred the sizzling rice in the pot. I stood next to him at the stove, looking for something to do.

“So what did you boys do today?”

I shot a glance over at Alex, who didn’t look up. “Nothing really. We hiked into town and got some cokes at the diner.”

“And doughnuts,” I chimed in.

“Cokes and doughnuts,” he repeated. “Anything else?” I shook my head. “Are you sure?”

“Just that,” Alex said.

“Really,” he said, looking at me with eyes narrowed. “Then why does the house smell like a stale ashtray?”

I froze, but Alex seemed unfazed. “We just tried one. It was gross.”

“You know how I feel about smoking,” he chided gently. “There’s a lot better things to spend your money on.”

“We just wanted to try one, ok?” Alex’s voice had an edge to it.

“It made me want to throw up,” I chimed in.

“Then, for the first and only time, I’m glad you got sick to your stomach,” Dad answered, mussing my hair again. “I just can’t believe you boys tried it inside the house. I assumed you were at least smart enough to do it where you wouldn’t get caught.”

Alex slammed the wooden spoon down in the pot. “It was just a stupid idea, ok?” He turned and stormed from the room.

“Alex,” Dad called, but he didn’t answer. The bedroom door slammed shut. “What’s wrong with him?”

I shrugged warily. “I dunno.”

“Maybe he’s just turning into a teenager,” Dad sighed. “Here, take over. Pour the rest of the stuff in, stir it, and cover it up so it can cook.” The steaks sizzled in the pan as I followed his instructions, just placing the lid on the pot when the words just came out.

“We didn’t buy the cigarettes to smoke them,” I said offhandedly. “Well, we tried one but only one time each.”

“They why did you get them?”

“Alex wanted me to try them on him.”

“I’m not sure I follow…” He looked at me without comprehension for a moment, and then I saw a glimmer of understanding in his eyes, followed instantly by a look of shock. “You burned him with cigarettes?”

“It was his idea,” I whined.

“Jesus,” he said, shaking his head and turning his attention back to the steaks. “Jake, I told you I don’t want to know anything specific about what you two are doing anymore.”

“I just wanted you to know that we weren’t smoking,” I said contritely.

He was silent for a moment. “I would’ve been happier thinking you were,” he said in a low voice. “The next time you feel an urge to tell me something like that, do us both a favor and keep it to yourself.”

“All I ever do is make people mad at me!” I shouted, storming off from the kitchen into the living room and sitting back down on the couch, my arms folded. I didn’t understand the way he was reacting, the way he didn’t want to know anything about what we were doing. After all, he was the one that patiently explained everything to me, he was the one that told me about the stuff in the box, he was the one that made me feel as if doing it wasn’t as abnormal as I had first thought. But then something changed, right around the time that I had tortured the truth from Alex. I wanted to tell him so bad what I knew, but I just couldn’t find those words, so I tried to tell him what we did instead. He didn’t let me. He just told me the same thing, that we could do what we wanted but he wanted it to be just between me and Alex, that he didn’t want to be involved anymore.

Dad came out of the kitchen, looking at me as he knocked on the bedroom door. “Alex, come on out of there,” he said authoritatively. “You too, Jake, come back into the kitchen. This is not the way I planned to spend my evening home with you two.”

“Me neither,” I said quietly, getting back off the couch and joining him in the kitchen. Alex sullenly followed a few moments later, busying himself with setting the table as I stirred the rice and dropped the corn into the boiling water. We finished getting dinner ready mostly in silence, Dad trying to get us to talk by asking questions and cracking stupid jokes, but neither of us really felt like joining in. It wasn’t until we were eating that we started to loosen up a little, listening to Dad talk about his jobs and how we were getting closer to being able to get a car.

The movies did the trick, though. Dad pulled the projector and the screen out of his closet right after dinner, pulling the shades down to make the room dark enough to be able to see. He even made jiffy pop. We sat on the couch side by side, watching familiar scenes that somehow seemed new again. Mom and Dad having a cake fight at their wedding, Jeremy crawling around the house with no diaper on as a baby, the time that Alex pulled out all the pots and pans and started banging on them when he was just a toddler. I wished the old movies had sound, that I could hear what everyone was saying, what they sounded like, especially Mom. Still, it felt good to watch the movies, even if it was sad to see Jeremy and Mom like that. It somehow didn’t bother me as much, seeing them in all these funny and happy times, watching Mom reading all three of us a story when I was just two as we all snuggled in her bed.

“Now, this one has always been a favorite,” Dad announced, putting the next reel in. The moment it started, I could feel my face getting red, and Alex started giggling uncontrollably.

“Not this one!” I said, hitting Dad in the shoulder. He laughed too as I watched myself as a little kid running around with just a shirt on, a training toilet set up in the middle of the room. Alex and Jeremy kept on trying to bring me back and get me to sit down, but I was just too much of a stupid little kid to know what I was supposed to do and just kept running around.

“Man, you really didn’t want to give up diapers,” Alex teased.

“Shut up,” I said playfully.

“Actually, you were harder to train,” Dad said to him, winking at me. “Jeremy wasn’t really interested in helping you out and you seemed perfectly content to wander around the house no matter what smells leaked out your butt.” Alex rolled his eyes. “At least Jake had the two of you working on him.” He shook his head. “You were so excited to have Jake join the big boy club.” I looked back at the screen, watching the two of them patiently bringing me back to the potty over and over again, saying words to me that I wished I could hear. Strangely, I didn’t feel quite so embarrassed anymore.

The scenes continued to unfold, soccer and hockey games, birthday parties, summer camp, the trips out west to the Grand Canyon and Yosemite, little boys gradually stretching and turning into bigger boys. I never realized how much Alex looked like Jeremy before.

“Last one,” Dad said quietly, putting in the reel and starting it up, the Labor Day barbecue that was only a couple of weeks before the accident happened. When Mom and Jeremy appeared on the screen, I could hardly believe that I was losing the memory of how they looked, their faces instantly and indelibly etched back into my head. I remembered how hot it was that day, the kids swimming around in the neighbor’s pool while the grown-ups drank beer and cooked hamburgers, Jeremy sitting on the chair by the pool because he didn’t feel good that day…

I sat bolt upright, my eyes wide. It was a hot day, I remembered it distinctly, and yet Jeremy wasn’t wearing shorts and a t-shirt or even a bathing suit. His long sleeve shirt was securely buttoned at the wrists and the neck, carefully tucked into his jeans, his socks and shoes still on as he watched wistfully from the sidelines while we splashed around. I glanced over at Alex, who was just staring at the screen, wondering if he was seeing the same thing I was, the way that Jeremy was dressed just the way Alex was right now. The realization flooded through me, wondering how I could have been so blind as to never see it before. The sudden change in Jeremy, the way he no longer ever wanted to go swimming or even change casually in front of me, the way he used to kick me out of his room when I would come in late at night after a bad dream or when I couldn’t sleep instead of letting me curl up on his bean bag chair in the corner.

Because Dad was doing the same things to him that I did to Alex.

A shudder ran down my spine, a sudden chill set over the room despite the heat. A faceless terror rose inside me, no longer seeing Jeremy like that but instead seeing Alex, seeing him now on that screen with the terrifying knowledge that death would rip him away from me in just a few short weeks. I couldn’t breathe, the room spun crazily, and I found myself jumping to my feet and running for the bathroom, ignoring my father’s calls as I slammed the door shut behind me and stared wild eyed into the dirty, cracked mirror. “It has to stop,” I whispered, the sense of dread growing inside me. I didn’t know how, I didn’t know why, it didn’t make any sense, but somehow I just knew that if it didn’t stop that Alex would wind up just like Jeremy. The thought was unbearable. One brother gone was horrible enough, but two was unthinkable.

But how could I stop? How could I overcome those powerful images that surfaced in my head every time I looked at him, the ones that went far beyond anything we actually did, images of violence and torture in the most real sense? How could I force those desires back when they held me in their grip even more tightly than the ropes and chains that held Alex captive?

I stared at the boy in the mirror, a smile suddenly creeping around the edges of his lips. It was so simple, I didn’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner. There was a way to subdue them, to banish the blood that flowed forever from my sight. I nearly laughed out loud, tearing back out from the bathroom.

Dad was in the process of putting away the projector and rolling up the screen. “You feeling better, Jake?”

I nodded. “Where’s Alex?”

“He went to his room to read for a while,” Dad answered. “I’m going to sit outside for a while and look at the stars, care to join me?”

I shook my head. “I’m kinda tired,” I lied. He nodded. “Night.”

“Night,” he answered back wistfully. I threw the bedroom door open. Alex turned around and looked straight at me with a little fear until he realized that it was me, not Dad. He had taken off his shirt, the welts and bruises on his back plainly visible. He rolled over to face the wall, burying his face in one of my science fiction books. The image of his bare back, the welts, the shape of his ass, I could feel those hands reaching up inside me and trying to wrest back control, my dick springing to life.

“I don’t want to get tied up tonight, so forget it,” he said, as if he was reading my mind. “I need a break.”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” I said quietly, sitting down on my bed.

“Good,” he said with finality, clearly telling me the conversation was over.

“Alex,” I said, shuffling my foot on the ground. “Maybe we could do something different.”

“I said I didn’t want to do anything tonight.” He turned around and flashed me a look of supreme annoyance.

“But…what if you did it to me instead?”

“Don’t you ever quit?” he growled. “I sucked you off like three times today, that’s enough already. I’m sick of it! I just want to read a book and go to sleep like a normal kid.”

“I didn’t mean sucking off,” I mumbled, looking at the ground.

“Then what the fuck did you mean?” he said angrily.

“I just thought you might want to do it to me one time, you know…” My voice dropped to a whisper. “Torture.”

He blinked his eyes, the anger clearing from his face to be replaced with concern. “I thought you told me that you didn’t want to try it.”

“I changed my mind.”

He shook his head and turned back over. “I don’t want to.”

“Come on, please, I just…I just want to know what it feels like, that’s all.”

“It hurts. A lot. Now you know.”

“Please, Alex.”

He turned back over. “Look, you can tie me back up when Dad leaves in the morning, ok? I just want to have one night without it. I just want to read a book and wear pajamas and sleep in my bed and get up in the middle of the night if I want a drink of water or a snack or to pee.” His voice was gentle. “Just one night, then we can go back to doing it. I promise.”

“But I don’t want to go back to doing it!” I could barely hold the tears in. “I want to know what it feels like because then maybe I won’t be so mean to you all the time!”

He looked shaken for a moment. “I don’t mind,” he said softly.

“But its too much! I’m afraid….I keep thinking of things that I want to do and I’m afraid that I’ll do them and if I know how much it hurts then maybe I’ll just do some regular things and it won’t be so bad!”

He got out of his bed and sat down beside me on mine. “You wouldn’t hurt me like that.”

“But what if I did?”

He was silent. “It wouldn’t be all your fault. It would be mine too.” He put his arm around my shoulder. “I don’t want to torture you. You don’t like it.”

“You don’t like it either!” I sobbed. “You hate it, you said so.”

“But I still want it, you don’t. I don’t know why you want to do this but I don’t want to do it to you.”

“Please,” I begged. “Just once. Please just do it to me one time so that I know what it’s like.”

“Tomorrow, ok? I promise I will tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow’s too late!” I said with intensity. “By tomorrow morning I’m gonna want to tie you up again and I’ll be mad at you for not doing this and who knows what I’m gonna do or when I’m gonna let you go! It has to be now, right now, please…”

“Ok,” he said sadly. “Ok, I will, just…just promise me that you won’t stop because of this. I…I need to get tied up, you know? I really need it.”

“I promise,” I said solemnly.

“What do you want me to do?”

My stomach jumped in terror. “Tie me to the bed on my back, you know how with the feet and the hands tied to the same side so my legs are up in the air?” He nodded. “Do the gag too, and the clamps, and whip me really hard and then make me suck you off.” I shivered. “You can leave me tied up all night too with the clamps.” He nodded seriously. “Do it really tight and hard, ok? Do it just like I do it to you.”

“I’ll try,” he whispered. I nodded, and stood up to strip off my clothes without waiting for him to order me to do so. He watched as I stood naked, my dick still hard even though I knew it was me and not him that would be screaming in a few short minutes. My hands were icy cold and shaking as I pulled the ropes from their hiding spot and tied them off, thinking how this was the first time ever they were being used on my bed instead of his. He watched me the whole time without moving. When I was done, I picked up the ball gag and handed it to him.

“Do it for real, and don’t let me go no matter what,” I reminded him. He nodded. I turned around and put my hands behind my back, opening my mouth wide as he pushed the ball into place, surprised at how it forced my jaw to be open to a painful point as he strapped it around the back of my neck, pulling it tight enough to yank it deep into my mouth. I struggled to find a place for my tongue, uttering a muffled a whimper until I managed to position it safely to the side of the ball.

Without a word he guided me to lie down on the bed, gently taking my wrists and binding them securely to the corners of the bed. I watched his muscles flexing as he pulled the ropes tight and did the knots well out of my reach. My entire body was tingling, my breath rapid and short, my stomach churning. Gently, he held my bare ankles together and helped me pull my legs into the air, holding them as he tied a rope around each and went back to the foot of the bed. Instead of the harsh yank that I liked to use, he gently pulled them down until I could feel my butt rising into the air, then tied them off one at a time to the opposite sides to make sure that my legs were completely out of the way and gave him perfect access for my beating, just the way that I liked to do to him…

Fear gripped me. I started to shake my head back and forth. I wanted out. I tried to tell him, but I knew that even though my words sounded intelligible to me, there was no way he could understand my muffled “mmphing.” I pulled at the bindings, but they didn’t allow me to even so much as move. He was just as good at it as I was.

“I’m gonna go slow, ok?” he said softly. “You’re not used to it.” I shook my head harder, making the most plaintive noises that I could into the gag. I could see that it was having an effect on him, the fear spreading across his face, but he shook his head. “I said I wouldn’t let you go.” I tried to tell him that I changed my mind, but he looked away and reached back into the box, coming away with the pair of alligator clips. My eyes went wide as saucers, and I started to shake uncontrollably all over.

“This is gonna hurt,” he said sympathetically as he maneuvered the open clip to my waiting nipple. I cried out before he even closed it. “Here goes.” Gently, slowly, he let it close. The first thing I felt was the cold metal, then a gentle squeeze that gradually turned into a pinch which turned into a feeling that a blowtorch was being applied to my chest, an unbearable burning sensation that sent tendrils of pain shooting across my chest and down my arm, and that was just with the first one on. The scream came without me consciously making any decision to do it, rising up from my depths, the wailing of a banshee across a lonely moor. I yanked at my restraints, not even trying to get free, just trying to do something to calm the searing agony that held me in its grip.

“Shit,” he breathed, immediately prying the clamp open and taking it off me. I moaned in relief as the pain subsided, retreated into an all too close memory. I looked up at him and whined plaintively. “I think we’d better start slower.” He got off the bed, going back to the box and rummaging around, leaving me with a moment to think. I could scarcely believe how much that clamp hurt, and I had only endured it for a few seconds at most. Alex had spent entire nights with those things biting into both his nipples and his ball sac…

He came back holding the paddle in his hand. I whimpered and moaned into the gag as he bent down to talk to me, gently brushing away the hair that fell against my eyes. “I’m not going to hit really hard, ok? Just try to hold still and be quiet.” I nodded, but holding still seemed completely impossible as he stood back up and lined the paddle up against my butt. I’d seen what the paddle could do to a person, how it could turn Alex’s butt a deep shade of crimson and bring out nasty looking bruises, how he would beg me not to use it, to use the whip instead because he hated the paddle so much. He said it was more of a deep, down pain than the surface stinging the whip left behind, one that he found much harder to bear. I shook my head as he looked into my eyes, swinging the paddle back…

It struck against me with a soft thud, not even enough to really hurt at all. It was more as if he tapped me instead of struck me. I grunted involuntarily. He brought it back and tapped it against me again, not even a little bit harder. I looked at him, surprised. It’s too soft, I tried to tell him into the gag, which came out as little more than “Mmmff mmmff.” He shook his head as if he understood. “Fine, I know.” He pulled it back and struck a little harder, no more than if Dad had playfully spanked me. I barely felt it.

Over and over again he tapped me like that, bit by bit a little harder until I squirmed from the light stinging that was developing in my cheeks. At this rate, it would be forever before it started to hurt, and I was getting the sense that Alex wanted this to be over just from the look on his face. I shouted into the gag and looked at him angrily.

“What?” he said, surprised.

“MMMPH!” I said, meaning harder.

“Jake, the paddle can really hurt. I don’t want to hit you that hard.” I shook my head and flashed my eyes in annoyance. He sighed. “All right. Just one, and then we’ll see what happens.” He pulled the paddle back and let it fly, biting his lip as he swung it full force. It connected with a loud crack, and my world shattered as pain beyond anything I could have imagined exploded into my head. Tears began to run down my face as I thrashed mindlessly, just trying to calm the horrible agony that seared my rear, my own cries echoing in my ears.

When I was able to actually stop for a moment and look at Alex, he had a look of complete shock on his face, standing so still it was as if time had frozen. The paddle was dangling from his hand, and as I watched he let it fall to the floor with a clatter. It seemed to jolt him back to reality, and all in a flash he fell upon me, working the knots free that held my legs in the air. I slowly let them down as he freed them, gingerly letting my now throbbing butt rest against the blanket. He had my hands untied soon afterward, rubbing them briskly to get the blood flowing again, and then reached behind my head to unbuckle the gag. I spat it out as it came free, a thin trickle of drool following it. I was still crying full force. He grabbed me and hugged me tightly.

“Don’t make me do that again!” he said, his voice cracking. I heard him begin to sob along with me. “I’m not going to ever torture you, I’m not going to ever hurt you, do you understand me?” Slowly, I wrapped my arms around him as well, holding him loosely even as he gripped me tightly. “It’s not the same, you don’t like it, you don’t want it like I do, I just…I just can’t do it to you…”

As my tears began to subside, I felt a growing sense of frustration building inside me. Three seconds with the clamp, and one good stroke of the paddle. That was it. It hurt like hell, but it was nothing, absolutely nothing compared to the everyday beatings that I subjected Alex to on little more than a whim. I had only been given the slightest taste of what he endured, which left me no different than I was before. The pain had already faded into the background, my butt not the least bit sore, my nipple not the least bit tender. Still, Alex was sobbing as fitfully as if it were him that had just taken one of my most severe lashings.

He climbed over me onto the bed, laying down beside me and pulling me close to hold me from behind. I let him, confused, not quite understanding why he was the one who was upset while I already felt like the whole experience was nothing but a dim memory. “In the morning,” he said as his sobs began to finally die down, “I want you to tie me up. I want you to beat me as hard as you can, as long as you can. I want you to put me in the closet. I want you to hang me by my wrists in the shack. I want you to…to…” He trailed off. “I’ll go back to being your prisoner for the rest of the summer.”

There was nothing else I could say. “Ok,” I whispered. My plan had failed, even worse than failed because somehow it made him want to be tortured even worse than before. And I knew if nothing else happened, I would give him what he wanted. He kissed me gently on my shoulder and snuggled in closer.

**********

Alex’s soft snoring woke me up. He was still curled up around me, the lights in the room still blazing. Gently, I lifted his arm away and laid it down on the bed. He stirred slightly, but resumed his snoring. Not wanting to risk waking him up, I carefully slid off the bed, stepping on the clamps right where he left them on the floor, barely keeping myself from shouting at the sudden stabbing pain. The ropes were still attached to the bed, the gag still laying beside him. I pulled on my clothes and went out into the dark living room, closing the door silently behind me.

The door to Dad’s room was standing open. I pushed it in slightly and looked at the empty bed. He was supposed to be staying the night, why wasn’t he here? The couch was empty, the kitchen abandoned. Dejected, I pulled the front door open to go outside and sit on the stoop for a while in the cool night air. He was already there, jumping as he turned around.

“You gave me a scare,” he said, putting a bottle of beer down next to several empties on the porch. “I thought you went to bed hours ago.”

“I guess I woke up,” I said, scratching my head. He patted the step next to him, and I shuffled forward to sit down. He opened one of the bottles and held it out to me. I looked at him strangely.

“You’re almost eleven,” he said wistfully. “I think a man can have a beer, just one mind you, with his son. Just promise not to tell.”

“Ok,” I said, taking the bottle from him. I took a swig, making a face at the taste of the bitter liquid. He smiled. “It tastes terrible, how come you like to drink this?”

“I guess it tastes better as you get older,” he acknowledged. “I can’t get over the stars out here can you? It seems like you can see the entirety of the universe from the safety of our little house.”

“I guess,” I said, holding my nose and taking another swig of the beer.

“Something troubling you?”

“You don’t wanna talk about it,” I said sullenly.

“Oh, that,” he said, turning away.

“Why won’t you talk about it?” I asked hotly.

“Jake,” he said softly. “It’s not that I don’t want to be helpful or that it isn’t important to me to set you on the right path. I just…don’t want to be involved in what you two boys are doing.” His face turned dark. “Alex tries to hide the effects, but I’ve caught a few glimpses here and there.” He took a long drink from his bottle, draining it. “You’re being pretty harsh with him from the looks of it.”

“He likes it that way,” I mumbled.

“I know he does, and I wouldn’t want to interfere with that. I just think…it strikes me that things might be getting a little out of control.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, trembling.

“I mean I went into your room last week when the two of you were still sleeping before I left for work.” He opened another beer and took a long drink. “Alex was...well, he wasn’t going anywhere, and judging by the look of things it seemed like you had beaten on him pretty badly.” My stomach jumped. “A part of me really wants to put an end to this, tell the two of you to just quit it.”

“I wish you would,” I muttered.

“You do?” he said, surprised. “The two of you have been as thick as thieves on this whole thing. You raided my box…don’t think I didn’t notice that. Except for earlier, when the two of you seemed to be having some kind of fight, there was nothing to suggest that anything was wrong.”

“I just can’t stop.” I turned away. “It’s starting to be too much and I just can’t stop.” I stared up at the sky. “It’s like I think that I want to stop and then my dick just takes over.”

He burst into laughter. It made me feel horrible. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh at you, but that just sounded so funny coming from you.” He tapped my beer bottle with his. “Drink up, Jake. Welcome to the wild, wonderful world of being a man.”

“But…then how can I make it stop…I mean…”

“I know what you mean, and I guess it’s not easy. A lot of grown men have a hard time controlling themselves when they think with the head between their legs.” I giggled. “It’s even harder for kids, with your hormones raging and everything.”

“I kinda had an idea, but it didn’t work.”

“Tell me.”

I shifted uncomfortably. “I thought that if I knew what it felt like, you know, what it really felt like when it was for real that I wouldn’t want to do it so much anymore.”

“I’m not sure I want to hear any more about this.”

“It didn’t work.” I sighed. “But it wasn’t because the idea didn’t work it was cause Alex couldn’t do it to me.”

“Jake, stop.”

“Can’t you just tell us not to do it anymore?”

He looked at me with fire in his eyes. “Do you really think that would do any good? I could just tell you to stop it, throw all my things in the trash? Do you think you really would, with me hardly around enough to provide any kind of structure for the two of you?”

“I guess not,” I said miserably. “I’m sure that if I just knew what it was like that I wouldn’t be so mean to him all the time.” I kicked a stone off the step.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” he muttered.

The idea flashed into my head, the words coming right out of my mouth before I even had a chance to catch them and pull them back in, slipping right through my fingers as they spilled out into the open. “Maybe you could do it to me.”

I felt my hands and feet go cold the moment the words were out in the open, my eyes fixed open as I turned back to look at Dad. He didn’t move, the beer bottle dropping from his hand suddenly and rolling down the stairs, the remaining beer slowly dribbling out, dripping under the porch. The whole world went silent.

“Go back to bed, Jake.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, brushing fresh tears from my eyes.

“I said go inside.”

“I said I was sorry!” I got up to go inside, turning back around when I had the door open. “I don’t understand!” The tears flowed hot and heavy. “How come you used to do all this stuff with Jeremy and you won’t even talk to me about it?”

He jumped to his feet, his face as white as the snow that I would never see again. “How in god’s name do you know that?”

“I just…I…I thought…”

He came at me fast. I cringed as his hands gripped my shoulder, crying out as his fingers dug into my flesh. “Jacob Connolly, you tell me this instant how you know about Jeremy.” I couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. “Tell me right now!” he shouted, his face mere inches from mine. I had never seen him so furious in his life.

“I…I…Alex told me!”

“And how in the hell does Alex know?” He dug his fingers in even harder. “How the fuck does Alex know? Tell me!”

“Cause Jeremy told him!” I spat out through my tears. “I wanted to know how come Alex knew all about the stuff in the box and he wouldn’t tell me so I tortured him until he did and he told me that it was all Jeremy’s and you used to do this stuff with Jeremy and Jeremy told him about it and then he told Mom and then they had the accident! I’m sorry!”

His fingers started to loosen their grip, and all at once his legs collapsed underneath him, falling to the porch directly into a sitting position. He looked like he had the wind knocked out of him, like someone had just punched him in the stomach as hard as they could.

I heard a small voice behind me. “Dad?” Whirling around, I was stunned to see Alex standing in the doorway, tears running down his cheeks as well. Dad looked up at him. “Oh Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ…”

“I heard the whole thing,” Alex said softly. “I wanted to tell you, I really did. I…It’s my fault, it’s all my fault, it’s my fault that Jeremy and Mom are dead.”

“Don’t you say that!” Dad answered fiercely.

“I saw the note, Dad! I saw it before you even did and I didn’t say anything! I know what Mom did and it’s all because I told her!”

“That’s not possible…” he whispered.

“What note?” I said quietly.

They ignored me. “It was under Jeremy’s pillow! I found it there when I slept in his bed the next day and I read it and I didn’t tell you! I wanted to tell someone so bad for so long but I was so afraid and then Jake made me tell him and it got easier…” He burst into a sob.

Dad pulled himself up on his feet. “Alex,” he said gently, reaching out and wrapping his arms around him while I watched. “No matter what you think, it was not your fault. Mom would have found out sooner or later, one way or another. No one could have predicted what your mother did. Anyone else would have just divorced me, forbade me to see my children, sent me to jail, but she chose a different path and if I had only known what I knew now, I never would have started, I never would have done anything with him, I would have let him be like any other sexually frustrated kid.” He turned to look at me with a thin smile. “I was thinking with my dick, not my head.”

No one laughed. “What note?” I repeated.

“Go ahead,” Dad said gently to Alex. “There’s hardly any reason to keep it a secret anymore.”

Alex took a deep breath. “Mom got into the car crash on purpose. She said she didn’t want Jeremy to grow up having to carry the scars of being abused.”

Now it was my turn to feel like the wind had been knocked out of me. “Those were her exact words,” Dad said softly, letting go of Alex and turning to face me.

“What does that mean?” I asked in a trembling voice.

“But she was wrong,” Alex said fiercely. “Jeremy liked it, he told me so. I was still a little kid, I didn’t understand how he could like getting hurt and doing all that sex stuff, I didn’t understand that until I got older and started to think about all it myself. How could she say that you were abusing him if you were just doing stuff to him that he wanted you to do?” Dad didn’t answer. “I know you never did anything to Jeremy that he didn’t want you to do.” He started crying again. “Why did she have to do it? Why didn’t she just ask him?”

“People won’t allow themselves to believe,” Dad said softly. “There are some things people won’t accept, even if the truth is so plainly evident that there is no denying it.”

“And then you caught us, and I told you about what I thought about and what I wanted to do, and you didn’t say anything. All you told me was that I wasn’t a pervert and that it was ok to have these feelings. I kept waiting for you to say something about you and Jeremy, anything, but you didn’t. And then you never talked to me about it again.” He choked back his tears. “I thought that because you didn’t ask me if I wanted you to do it that you…that you didn’t love me as much as Jeremy…”

“Oh my god,” Dad said, turning back to Alex. He tried to hug him, but Alex batted his arms away. “All I wanted was to protect you boys. I wouldn’t ever want you to think something like that.”

“Then prove it,” he said with determination. “Do it to me like you used to do it to Jeremy.” Dad was silent. “Just once. I have Jake to do it to me now, and he likes torturing me as much as I like being tortured.” My stomach did another backflip. “Just once so that I know for sure.”

“I can’t, I just can’t. I can’t hurt you.”

“You’re not hurting me if you’re doing something I want you to do,” he said. “Just once.”

Dad took a deep breath. “Just once,” he repeated. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, what I should think, how I should feel. Those times with Jeremy…I never felt as close to him as those times when I beat the hell out of him. You boys can’t know what it’s like to lose a child, it’s something that no amount of time or healing can erase. But I still have the two of you.” He put his hand on the back of my neck.

“I really miss Jeremy too,” I said softly.

“Yeah,” Alex whispered.

“I still have the two of you,” he said softly. “I can’t believe I’m doing this, but ok. I’ll do it.” Alex smiled softly. “Both of you.”

The smile on Alex’s face melted away. “No, you can’t torture Jake.”

“Alex, he asked me to.”

“But he doesn’t want it. He’s not the same.”

“Whatever his reasons are, it’s his decision.” Dad turned to me. “Do you want me to torture you?”

Despite the chills that ran up and down my body, I managed to nod. “Yeah,” I said softly.

“Jake, please don’t do it,” Alex pleaded. “If you know what it’s like you won’t want to do it to me anymore!”

“I doubt that,” Dad said quietly. “I think he’ll have a new appreciation for how tough his big brother is, and I think he’ll realize that sometimes he’s pushing you too far, but I don’t think it will drive the desire from his system. I think it will make him better at it.”

A strange silence settled over the porch. Even the crickets seemed to respect the power of that moment, what it meant, what was about to happen. “Alex, go find my power drill and a couple of eye bolts from the toolbox, ok? If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right.” Alex nodded and ran back into the house. “You’re sure about this, kiddo?” he said to me.

I nodded. “I’m scared though.”

“You should be,” he said darkly. “This is going to be for real, which means no stopping once it’s started. You think about that carefully.”

“I will,” I said, trying to sound brave, but knowing I came up hopelessly short.

“Go and get all the things and bring them to the living room.” I ran off, glancing at Alex as he came out of Dad’s bedroom lugging the large, metal toolbox. Hurriedly, I started to gather everything up, throwing it all into a huge pile, nearly ripping the ropes from the bed. I gathered up everything, not knowing what Dad wanted to use or what he would need. By the time I was gathering everything up in my arms, I could hear the sound of the drill coming from the living room. Not caring what dropped, I dragged a pile out. Dad was standing on a ladder, drilling a hole into the ceiling while Alex watched from below. He saw me struggling with the pile of stuff and came over to help, picking up the things I was dropping while I put everything down on the floor in the middle of the room.

“That’ll do it,” Dad said as he screwed a large eye-bolt into the ceiling. He pulled on it hard but it didn’t come loose. With a satisfied nod, he turned to me. “Jake, I need a length of chain and a padlock, please.” I picked them up and handed them to him, watching as he doubled the chain over, locking it to the bolt right in the middle so that two shorter lengths dangled from the ceiling. One for each of us…

He climbed down the ladder, folding it up and placing it in the corner of the room. “We’ll start with you, Alex.” I could almost feel him shaking as much as I was. “Take off your clothes.” Alex sprang into action, his clothes tumbling around him until he stood naked. It was strange, I thought, that his naked body was looking more familiar to me than when he was clothed. He strode over to Dad, not even trying to cover himself up. Dad picked up a rope, holding Alex’s hands together in front of him. “Don’t think that just because you have a few welts, bruises, and burns that I’m going to go easy on you.”

“I know,” Alex said softly, wincing as Dad pulled the rope tight.

“Bend over the couch,” he ordered. Alex obeyed, his battered butt on full display as he positioned himself on the raised arm. Dad looked though the pile, muttered something, and then went back into this bedroom, coming out a moment later with the box. I looked at him curiously, because the only thing left in the box was…My eyes went wide as he pulled one of the strange double-cone shaped things out, the bigger one, opening the small bottle and smearing some goop all over it. He wasn’t really going to…

Dad placed one hand in the small of Alex’s back to hold him down, maneuvering the big thing with his other hand until it pressed against the inside of his butt. Alex squirmed but was silent. I watched horrified as Dad gave the thing a shove, two inches of it instantly disappearing inside Alex.

“Fuck!” Alex shouted. “That hurts like hell!”

“It’s hardly in,” Dad said flatly. “Don’t tell me you boys haven’t done this before?” He looked over at me. I shook my head. “Well, there’s nothing to be done about it now. It’s going in whether you like it or not, and you’re going to have to take the bigger one because I still need the small one for Jake.” My hands instinctively found their way to my backside, covering it up as best as I could. Dad gave the thing another shove. Alex would have leapt off the couch if Dad wasn’t holding him down.

“Stop!” he shrieked. “It feels like you’re tearing me apart!”

“Jake,” Dad said calmly. “Would you please bring me the roll of duct tape from the toolbox and Alex’s underpants?” I did so, wondering what Dad had in mind. The only thing I could imagine was that we would have to wear underpants during the beating to keep the thing from falling our of our butts and that Dad was going to tape them in place. But that’s not what he had in mind. With his free hand, he grabbed a bunch of Alex’s hair and pulled him back into a standing position. Alex looked wild-eyed, more scared than usual.

“Open your mouth,” Dad ordered. Alex slowly complied, but it wasn’t fast enough for Dad. In one swift move, he stuffed Alex’s underpants into his mouth, forcing the entire thing in. Alex choked and sputtered, but Dad held his hair tightly to keep him from getting away. Once the white cloth was just barely visible behind his teeth, Dad let go of him to pull some of the tape free, sticking down on Alex’s cheek and wrapping it tightly around his head, sealing his mouth. Alex stayed completely still as Dad finished the gag with another piece of tape under his chin, pulling it all the way around the top of his head to keep him from being able to open his mouth. “That’ll keep you nice and quiet,” he said harshly, pushing Alex back over the couch. I could barely hear Alex whimpering as Dad went back to work, Alex struggling mightily but hopelessly as the thing gradually disappeared inside him.

I watched the whole scene with a kind of fascinated terror, scared of what was happening to him, scared that it would soon be happening to me as well. Alex struggled extra hard as the thing reached it’s widest point, and then it was as if it was just sucked inside him, the rest disappearing without much of a fuss. Alex whimpered and lay still as Dad rubbed his hands clean on his back. “Get up,” he said harshly.

Dad led a whimpering Alex, his face streaked with fresh tears, over to the chains. Pulling his hands high into the air, he looped the chain between Alex’s bound hands and quickly locked it in place, leaving my brother stretched out. My dick raged at the sight of Alex strung up like that, enduring a new torture that we hadn’t yet tried. Dad dug through the pile and retrieved the larger set of clamps, unceremoniously clipping them onto Alex’s chest. He jerked as each one bit down on him, but remained silent.

“Your turn,” Dad said, turning over to me. “Last chance to get out of this.” I was too terrified to answer. He looked at me sympathetically. “If you still want to go through with it, then you need start getting undressed.” I stood frozen in place for a moment before I began to mechanically pull my t-shirt off and dropped my shorts to the floor, leaving me only in my underwear. I had been naked in front of Alex more times than I could count without feeling anything, but an acute sense of embarrassment washed over me at stripping in front of my father. I could feel my face turning red.

“Everything off,” he said gently. I turned around so he couldn’t see and dropped my underwear, kicking them away from me, holding my hands in my crotch as I turned back around. He looked completely understanding, picking up the leather cuffs from the pile and coming up to me. “I promise I won’t take it too far,” he said softly so that Alex couldn’t hear as he wrapped the cuffs gently around my wrists, locking them in place. “It’ll be just enough so that you get the full experience without taking you too far over the edge, ok?” I nodded, his speech doing nothing to calm the ferocious terror that clawed at me. For the second time that evening, I found the ball gag being strapped into my mouth, just as tightly as Alex had done it

“Let’s get this plug in you now, ok?” I shook my head, taking a step backward. “Shhh, Jake, calm down,” he said soothingly. “It’s a lot smaller than the one that I used on Alex. I promise, it won’t hurt very much, it’ll just be…uncomfortable.” Still, I shook my head, feeling like I wanted to run from the house as fast as I could, naked or not. “I understand you’re scared, but this is going in whether you like it or not.” His voice took on the slightest tinge of menace. “It’ll be a lot easier if you cooperate.”

He held out his hand, taking mine and grasping it warmly. I let him lead me over to the couch, gently pressing on the back of my head to get me to bend over. I whimpered as he stroked my shoulder for a moment, then left me there while he got the thing ready. I could hardly believe that in just a short moment, something would be going into my butt. That wasn’t how butts worked. Stuff comes out. Stuff is not supposed to go in.

I jumped as I felt something cold between my legs, instinctively clenching my cheeks together as though I were trying to hold in a shit. “Just try and relax,” Dad said, but it was impossible, how could I relax at time like this? I felt his hand, warm and firm on my back. “Hold still.” I could hear Alex’s muffled shouts from behind, but couldn’t get up to see what he was carrying on about.

And then I felt the strangest thing. It wasn’t like it was really strange, it was just strange that it was such a familiar feeling. Somehow I expected that the feeling of something going into my asshole would be different, but it was unmistakably the exact same feeling of taking a dump. It didn’t really hurt, at least no more than the times when I had to squeeze out a particularly large or hard one. I squirmed a little, Dad’s grip reacting my holding me more firmly against the arm. It started to hurt a little more, the thing getting bigger, stretching me out. I cried out as a sudden stab of pain rocked up my spine, but it subsided almost immediately, the feeling of the plug sucking itself into me bringing a sigh of relief that the worst was over.

“There you go,” Dad said. “You did very well.” I stood up, the feeling of having to take a dump even stronger than it was before. I tried to push it out by habit, but it didn’t move. I grunted, and Dad smiled. “Kinda weird, isn’t it?” I nodded. He knelt in front of me, brushing the hair from my eyes. “I’ll be here for you when it’s over, ok? Just hang in there.” I nodded. Without another word, he led me over to where Alex was standing. He was trying to say something, but the words were barely audible through his gag. It works even better than the ball thing, I thought curiously as Dad stretched my hands over my head and locked them to the chain. I’ll have to remember that for next time. Maybe I can ask Dad if I can keep the tape.

Alex shouted again, focusing my attention on his face. His eyes looked angry, his stare directed at Dad as he went back to the pile and began to rummage through it. Then he turned his attention to me, his face completely changing. I looked up at him, somehow able to understand exactly what he meant even though he couldn’t speak a word. He had a determined look about him, but one that also seemed to speak of compassion, of protection. It was as if he was trying to tell me that everything was going to be ok, that he would take care of me. Startled, I felt his icy fingers wrap around mine. His hands were bent over at a crazy angle to reach down like that, and I knew that it had to hurt him. I pulled my hands away, not wanting him to hurt himself like that, but he shook his head hard, demanding. I couldn’t say no. As best as I could, I tried to wrap my hands around his, our eyes locking together.

In that moment, I felt something for Alex that I had never felt before, a love so deep and powerful that it overwhelmed completely, sweeping me away like a piece of driftwood out to sea, not to be lost forever in the black depths but to be beckoned back home. In that moment, we became more than just brothers, as though our very souls flowed together, mixing through our sparse touch into one single being. Nothing could separate us, the laws of time and space crumbling into dust. I could feel his strength flowing into me, sharing his power with me. The threat of the agony I was about to endure meant nothing any more, because I knew I had my big brother suffering right there along with me, teaching me to be strong, teaching me to be brave, being the person that I could scarcely hope to become. I barely even felt it when the clamps bit down on my chest, nothing could touch me, nothing could hurt me anymore. Our tears ceased to be of pain and suffering, they were of love.

Without warning, the lash struck my back, leaving me gasping as searing pain seized at my consciousness. My legs collapsed under me, screams echoing in my ears that I barely realized were mine, Alex’s hands ripped away as I hung crazily by my wrists. Desperately, I tried to find my balance, but the next blow hit before I could, turning me half around with its force, lines of fire painted across my stomach where the lashes wrapped around. My vision was blurry through the tears, but I could still see Alex’s face. Get up, he was saying to me. Get up and take my hand. Get up and I’ll make the hurt go away, I’ll make it feel like it did that first night when I took you in my mouth and opened your eyes to a whole world of possibilities you never knew existed.

With grim determination, I shouted despite the pain, despite another blow wrapping around my ass and biting mere millimeters from my balls trying to force me off balance. I somehow pulled my feet beneath me. Alex’s hands immediately wrapped around mine, tighter than ever. I gripped back as best as I could as the blows came, but I didn’t let go. Lash after lash struck me, but I kept my balance, I let him hold me up. When the pain threatened to become unendurable, when I wanted to just let my legs go, when I wanted to give up and let the darkness swallow me, all I had to do was to look at him, into his kind but firm eyes. Stay with me, they said. Be strong. Be brave.

As suddenly as it started, the lashes stopped falling. Everything hurt, from my shoulders down to my legs. I had no idea how many times he had struck me, never even having tried to keep count. Without a word I watched him walk around to stand behind Alex. I could see his chest heaving, the determination written across his face. Now it’s my turn, I tried to tell him. Now you can lean on me and I can hold you up. Now you can take some of my strength and keep it for yourself.

He didn’t even cry out at the first lash, although I could see how much it hurt in his eyes. But the pain was only there for a moment, replaced by a bold faced challenge. I almost had to smile. It was as if he was asking if that was the best that Dad could do, that even my weakest beatings were harder than that. I looked up at him with pride, which he acknowledged with a wink. But it was as if Dad knew the signs that passed between us, even though he couldn’t see his face. “Think you’re not going to scream, Alex?” he said between clenched teeth. Alex flashed a look of victory at me, but I stared in terror as Dad screwed up his face and swung the whip around with astounding force. The crack as it struck Alex’s upper back was deafening, throwing Alex forward into me. His eyes were wide with surprise, which turned to terror as he began to shriek at the top of his lungs, a high pitched scream that sounded more like it should be coming from a girl. “That’s more like it,” Dad said harshly, landing another withering blow. Alex looked at me desperately, in a way that I had only seen him do when I had beaten him with every ounce of strength I could muster. I tried to hold him the way he held me, but my attempt felt paltry compared to his.

The torture dragged on for an eternity. Dad alternated between the two of us, switching implements each time from the cat to the paddle to the strap to the whip and then cycling back through all of them over again. Each time, I knew it was getting worse, I could feel the impact, I could feel the pain, but each time it was as if the pain didn’t hold such a strong grip over me. It seemed to have the same affect on Alex, and even when Dad beat him fast and furious he still managed to keep his hoarse screams under more control that those first few shrieks that pierced my ears. Whenever we could, our hands remained locked together, joining us, the shared pain somehow making that bond even stronger.

I didn’t want to allow myself to believe that it was over when Dad put down the whip and stood beside us, tears in his eyes. “I can’t believe how proud I am of you boys,” he said shakily. “Alex, I want you to know that Jeremy couldn’t take half of what you took tonight, and it seems like you still have the strength for me to carry on.” Alex’s tired eyes sparkled a little. “Jake, for a boy your age that’s never experienced something like this, you took a pretty harsh bearing with an incredible amount of bravery.” He reached up and unlocked my hands from the chain, unlinking them at the same time. I didn’t even let them fall, I didn’t wait for Dad to finish letting Alex out, I just wrapped my arms around my brother, pressing him against me, wanting to hold him as close as I could for as long as I could.

Dad dropped the keys on the floor, wrapping his arms around both of us, leaving Alex tied. “God, we are one fucked up little family.”

Maybe, I thought. But if we have to be fucked up, at least we’re fucked up in a good way.