Author: Broken Compass
Title: Grace Saved
Part: 2
Summary: An awkward teen continues his transformation at the
hands
of his dominant little stepsister.
Keywords: mm, reluc, huml, fdom, tg, oral

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DISCLAIMER
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The author welcomes feedback of all kinds.
Please email: BrokenCompass6626@gmail.com	
I would LOVE to hear from you. Your responses keep me going

The author has been inspired by countless works over the years,
and it's reflected in this story. He does not intend to steal
intellectual property. If any part of his writing too closely
resembles another author's work, he apologizes sincerely. All of this is personal me. If you've struck
a chord, you may see your echoes here. Take that, please, as the most
sincere form of thanks I can give.

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Grace Saved
Chapter 2 - In Which Grace is Prepared for New
Challenges

In Chapter 1, Grace's stepsister Amber decided to blackmail him,
and he had a humiliating orgasm at the hands of her friends.
Amber
has decided that Grace is transgender, and she's intent on
guiding
him into life as a woman -- whether or not he's willing.
-------------------------------------------------------------
	Grace hoped for a quiet ride to school. He still hadn't
processed the trauma of his rape (what else could you call it?)
He was so confused. The violation, the invasion. Part of him was
furious - those bitches had no right to abuse him like that! But
a larger part of him was ruled by shame. He couldn't forget how
he'd FELT. Humiliated and angry, yes. But excited too. When he
came with Kelly rubbing that spot inside him . . . he'd never had
an orgasm like that: a blinding-white intensity that seemed to go
on and on.
	So his rage couldn't find a footing; it was built on sand. What
right did he have to be angry when it had felt so good? Was it
really rape if he'd taken pleasure in it?
	And what about all those things Amber had said about him being a
girl? She seemed so SURE. He knew she was wrong, of course. But
her confidence was unnerving. And he was already confused by the
unwanted hard-ons he'd been having. Like when he got embarrassed
in class or, worse, when Amber had raised the prospect of some
guys from school coming over to see him dance around naked.
	Even more disorienting: Amber seemed to have a split personality
now. One Amber had watched with cool dispassion while her friends
held Grace down and violated him. That hadn't been the bratty
stepsister he knew. That Cold Amber had had a . . . presence.
	Then the Other Amber had emerged, hours later, to comfort him.
To hold him and tenderly stroke his hair. That Amber was new as
well. His bratty stepsister had never shown such warmth.
	So which Amber would he get today?
	Grace was having trouble deciding. During breakfast, she had
been perfectly friendly to him. But her voice had lacked the
nurturing tone from last night, when she'd held him in his bed.
He wondered if Cold Amber was waiting just below the surface.
	
	He was not to have the quiet ride he need to get his head
straight. She started talking as soon as she put the car into
drive.
	"You know, I barely slept last night. I kept getting ideas," she
told him.
	" 'bout what?" He knew what she meant, but his impulse was to
play dumb.
	"About YOU, silly!" She reached over to playfully swat his arm.
"I think we should get started right away. There's so much to do!
I'll talk to my friends this afternoon and get them on-board. I
know they'll be happy to help out, once they understand the
situation."
	"Amber, I don't think I understand the situation. What do you
mean?"
	Grace didn't know what he was doing. He remembered last night's
conversation with perfect clarity. This was just going to
aggravate her . . . He supposed that he needed to hear her say it
again: that she was going to make Grace become a girl. The
irrational, animal part of his mind hoped that, in the light of
day, she WOULDN'T be able to say it. She would have to just drop
the whole thing and leave him alone.
	"What do I mean?", she spat. "Don't be such a stubborn CUNT."
Cold Amber was suddenly back. Her voice cut him. Grace could feel
her eyes, but he kept his gaze on his lap. She softened a little
as she continued, "I know this is hard for you, Grace. We have a
LOT of conditioning to undo. You've lived in a male body your
whole life, after all, so the transition may feel a little
strange at first. You might need some 'tough love.' "
	They stopped at a red light, and she took her right hand from
the wheel to lean over and rub the back of his neck. It was a
loving gesture on the surface, but it also felt somehow . . .
possessive.
	"Just remember that it IS love," she said.  "Otherwise, why
would I bother, hmm?" As they started moving again, her hand came
down and grabbed the top of his left thigh. He jumped a little
when she gave it a vigorous shake.
	"I'm EXCITED though, aren't you?" she chirped, bubbly once
again. "You should be excited. We're gonna have fun; I promise."
	He wondered what Amber's kind of fun would entail. She didn't
elaborate on that point, but reiterated that her friends would be
involved.
	"Kelly and Serena are both pretty ditzy, but Kristen might be
able to make a good contribution. She did amazing work with her
border collie, and even placed in that agility competition." She
giggled, "training YOU can't be much different, right?"
	Grace wanted to crawl into a hole. Instead, he reached for his
backpack in the back seat, pulling it onto his lap so that he
would be ready to exit the car as soon as possible. Amber pulled
into the main entrance, then took a left -- to the front circle
drive, instead of heading right, to student parking.
	"Look at this," she told him. "As a show of good faith, I'll
drop you off at the entrance so you don't have to walk." As the
car stopped, he mumbled his thanks and pushed the door open.
	"Oh, one more thing!" she called as he was stepping out. "We're
both going straight home after school." Grace sat back down in
the passenger seat.
	"Um, I have Math Club on Mondays, Amber, so I catch a ride with
--"
	"Right, I know." she interrupted. "But I showed Valerie those
pictures, and she said you're grounded for a month, so you need
to be home."
	The world suddenly became brighter; sharper. Grace closed the
door.
	"Amber? We had a deal!"
	"I know, sweetie." Perversely, her face contorted with sympathy,
as though he was the victim of some natural disaster - not the
victim of HER. "But we need you to be home for training. I know
how reluctant you are to help yourself, so this seemed like the
simplest way."
	The nausea was creeping back up on him. He swallowed hard a few
times, fighting the constriction in his throat.
	"Oh, but don't worry," she continued happily. "I just showed her
the PICTURES. Those shots of gay porn on 'your' computer. She
didn't see any of the video. You know -- the video of you
exposing yourself to me and my friends."
	Amber had broken her promise, and there was nothing he could do
about it. She still had more blackmail material. Ammunition that
could land him in much, much more trouble than he was already in.
Grace was at a loss for words. He looked at her stupidly for a
moment, then sighed, "Okay."
	Like a child.
	"Cool beans," his stepsister sang. "See you at three!"

	The morning was a blur. In History, Mr. Williams called on him
twice. He was prepared with answers; he'd done his reading. But
the eyes were worse than ever. Part of him was convinced that
they somehow knew. That they could see him as he'd been twelve
hours ago - legs pinned to the floor, Kelly twisting her fingers
around in his asshole.
	At fifth period study hall, he signed out a five-minute pass and
hurried to his locker. It was in an entrance hallway - sort of a
foyer off from the main part of the building. It afforded some
privacy, which he was grateful for. He dialed his mom with a knot
in his stomach.
	"Hey, Mom, we really need to talk," he started in, desperately,
as soon as she picked up.
	"Grace," came the tired reply, "there's not much to talk about.
I am heart-sick. Completely heart-sick that my son has taken such
a sinful path."
	"Mom, I'm NOT gay, alright?"
	 "Grace!" her voice shot up an octave. "I don't care if you're
gay, straight, or polka-dot! Do you even understand your sin?"
	Silence.
	"Our bodies are each a temple, Grace," she continued. "A gift
from God. That garbage on your computer . . . it cheapens God's
wonderful gift. It profanes it. Lusting over those images is like
. . . spitting in His face!"
	"Mom, please, you have to believe me --"
	"Don't you DARE tell me what I 'have to do'," she cut in. "Like
I told your sister, I want you grounded for a month. You need to
think hard about what you will spend your life worshiping - your
God, or your cheap sinful pleasures."
	"But she's LYING, Mom! I never --"
	"Oh, once again your EVIL stepsister is making it all up, huh?"
Her voice had become venomous. "You know, I can't afford to hire
a babysitter for you, Grace. Your sister is staying home until
almost November to make sure you obey me. She's basically getting
grounded too. Do you think she wants that? To be punished for
your sick mistakes? Amber showed REMARKABLE maturity by bringing
this to my attention."
	"But --"
	"One month. Straight home after school. Bed by ten o'clock. Oh,
and your computer goes to your sister."
	"WHAT?! Mom, I bought that with my own money! I worked so hard!"
	"Oh! YOUR own money? Your own money, Grace?" He deeply regretted
making this phone call. "Why is it that you've never paid the
mortgage with YOUR OWN MONEY, huh?" she continued, her voice
slicing into him -- the way only a mom's voice can. "When's the
last time you went grocery shopping with YOUR own money?!"
	He had no reply. Valerie took a deep breath to regain her
composure.
	"As soon as you get home, you move that computer into Amber's
room. Set it up for her. And for the next month, I want you
straight home after school. No phone calls; no internet. We'll
talk tonight."
	Valerie hung up before he could say anything more. It didn't
matter; he had no idea what else to say.

	The ride home from school was blissfully silent. Amber drove
again, of course. They technically shared the car, but she always
drove. As they pulled in the driveway, she announced, "Your mom's
working late. Brian will be over at 5:30, after football. I want
you to be ready." Amber looked at him expectantly. "Do you know
what ready means?"
	"Uh, no," Grace replied, although his mind was bombarding him
with possibilities - none pleasant.
	"Ready means naked, Grace. From now on, ready ALWAYS means
naked. And hard, too, although you won't have any problem with
that part, will you slut?" She giggled as she put the car in park
and stepped out. "Oh, and I need to go online, so hurry up with
the computer."
	Grace followed her into the house and went straight upstairs, to
his room. As ordered, he began unplugging the peripherals from
his desktop. In three trips, he carted the monitor, CPU,
keyboard, and mouse over to Amber's bedroom. When everything was
set up, she kicked him out, after making sure he understood: this
was a small price to pay for the guidance she was giving him.
Once again, Grace answered "Okay."
	Like a child. He did not know why.
	For the next two hours, he sat in his room and basically did
nothing. There was no way he could get any homework done. All he
could think about was the approach of 5:30. What did she have
planned? Whatever it was, it would be humiliating. He didn't
doubt that. If it involved her boyfriend, Grace didn't know how
he could go back to school. He had History with Brian. He was
going to debase himself, naked, in front of this guy, then have
to go sit in class with him the next morning? The question
occurred to him belatedly: who was Brian going to tell? Oh, God!
Would everyone in class know? Everyone in the school?
	If Brian was going to spread the word, Grace wondered, what was
the point of jumping through any of Amber's hoops? Once his
humiliation was made public, his mom would find out for sure.
Why not just call Amber's bluff, let his mom see the video, and
take whatever came?
	Yet he nonetheless found himself undressing as the time
approached. He just didn't have the stomach to take on CERTAIN
disaster. There was always a slim hope that soon this would all
just be a memory. Grace couldn't bear ignoring that hope;
destroying it in a foolhardy pursuit of dignity. Jesus, this
whole thing had STARTED because he'd tried to stand up to Amber.
How was he going to make it any better by standing up to her
again?
	Rationalizing with fervor, Grace folded his clothes and laid
them on his bed. Goosebumps popped up on his arms. He looked to
the clock on his nightstand. It was 5:28.
	Amber opened his door barely a minute later. She eyed him over
and gave a grunt of satisfaction.
	"Good boy. Ready just like I asked."
	Grace had expected her to yell at him. Amber had said he had to
be naked, AND had to have an erection . . . Then he silently
cursed himself. A downward glance revealed he was already
horizontal, and on his way up. He decided in that instant that he
must have some kind of disorder; some condition. This was NOT the
way erections were supposed to work. Mentally, he was miserable -
so what part of this was his body enjoying?
	Grace stood dumb while his lithe little stepsister paced into
his room and slowly circled him. He shuddered when she lightly
ran her nails from below his buttock, up one cheek, then up along
his back to the shoulder blade.
	"OK, " she said. Her voice much too brassy for the intimacy of
their present situation. "Are you ready for your first lesson?"
	She didn't wait for a reply, instead giving him a sharp swat on
the ass and barking, "Get downstairs. I'll explain what's going
on while we wait for Brian."
	Grace walked down to the basement while her voice followed him.
"Now, I've put a lot of thought into this, Grace. What is it that
defines your gender, hm?  There is, of course, an external
component: the way you look. But your gender is also determined
by the way you FEEL. Now, I know you're still on the fence about
your identity. Many male-to-female transgenders are confident
that they belong in the body of a woman - there's very little
ambiguity; little doubt."
	As the reached the basement, she turned on the lights, motioned
him to sit on the couch, and continued, in her most pedantic
tone: "You're a special case though, aren't you? I've been
wondering -- why is it that your gender identity is so clear to
me, but so invisible to you? I think it's because of your
personality."
	Amber started pacing in front of him. Grace folded his arms,
acutely aware of the chill.
	"You have a weak personality, Grace," she said bluntly. "Surely
you can admit to at least that?" When her gaze fixed on him, in
search of an answer, Grace nodded without hesitation. That was
the first thing Amber had said in a while that DID make sense.
She continued earnestly: "Now, there's nothing WRONG with that,
sweetheart. There are many important roles in a community for
someone with your disposition. One of the positives is that
you're very nurturing; very in-tune with other people. I'm
betting that's why you were such a natural at sucking on
Kristen's feet - she luuuuved that shit, by the way." Amber said
with a smirk. The blush tore though his body despite the cold.
	She went on, ". . . but that's also why you've been so confused
-- you define yourself in terms of others, Gracie, and the people
around you have convinced you you're a boy."
	Amber stopped in front of him, stepping in a little too close,
forcing him to look almost straight up to meet her eyes. "And
THAT is where we start," she said. "We're going begin developing
your womanhood by changing your relationship with men." Amber
smiled down at him, face brimming with self-satisfaction. Like a
dog that finally caught a squirrel, she was clearly tickled to
have analyzed her stepbrother so thoroughly. "The outer aspect is
easy . . . we're gonna have an AWESOME shopping trip this
weekend, trust me . . . but for now, we focus on your INNER
woman."
	The doorbell rang right on cue, spooky in its timing.
Wordlessly, Amber laid an index finger gently on Grace's nose,
almost flirtatiously, then bounded upstairs to greet her
boyfriend. Grace felt his breath leave him, and fought to regain
it as the two of them came down the stairs. Brian was first. He
looked Grace over -- up, down, then up again - with a vacant
casualness that was utterly terrifying. "What's up, little guy?"
Brian asked.
	"He-Hey," Grace choked out. Once again, he had entered his
nightmare state. As it had been with Kelly, Kristen, and Serena,
the world took on a surreal quality that made him unsure of
everything. He couldn't tell if he had shouted his response to
Brian or whispered it.
	Amber trotted down behind her boyfriend and took his hand,
leading him to the opposite end of the couch, then pushing down
on his broad shoulders to make him sit. Brian plopped down, and
his left foot swung out to find the corner of the ottoman. His
right knee splayed out to the other side, and both arms were
thrust up and out along the back of the couch. Reflexively, Grace
marveled at how different he and Brian must look. The jock was
basically spread-eagle. Grace, in an effort to keep his naked
body warm, was hugging himself, knees pressed together. The
disparity struck him as both symbolic and . . .  was
'preordained' the right word? Natural, somehow? He found it
impossible to imagine himself in Brian's place.
	Brian seemed to pose for a moment; as though inviting Grace to
make the comparison. Then he dropped one meaty arm down from the
back of the couch and started undoing his fly. "Alright, let's
get this show on the road!" he demanded. "I'm ready to BUST."
	Graced silently cursed himself for a second time. How was he so
stupid that he hadn't known the deal until this moment? He'd
assumed he was going to have to do an embarrassing dance again.
Clearly, though, things had escalated. But how could he have just
listened to Amber's whole spiel and not expected any less? He
really DID have a weak personality. She was leading him around
like a cow.
	Amber walked over and took his hand. As she led Grace over
towards the entertainment center at the far end of the room, she
shot Brian a menacing glace.
	"Just hold ON a minute, okay? You still know more than he does!"
	Grace was so malleable that it didn't take more than the
slightest downward pressure from his stepsister to make him sink
to the floor. To his surprise, she also sat down. Amber proceeded
to brief her naked chattel. As she spoke, her face took up his
whole world. Her dark, dark eyes never left him.
	"Grace, the first thing you need to learn, as a woman, is how to
please your man," she said seriously. "Your man's pleasure is
what defines you. Today, Brian has graciously volunteered to fill
the role of 'your man'. Don't worry, we'll find you someone else
once you're trained up."
	She ignored the snort from behind her and continued, "We're
going to start with the basic blowjob. But, trust me sweetie,
	there's actually quite a bit of technique involved in something
so outwardly simple. The fundamentals come naturally to most
women, but you'll probably need to learn it by rote."
	Grace could feel his heart beating in his throat. Was he really
about to suck a guy off? Could he go through with it? In a
panicked flash, he considered his escape routes. He could once
again take his chances with his mom's wrath . . . but was that
even an option anymore? He shot a glance past Amber's face to
Brian, and measured the POWER of that guy. He wasn't much taller
than Grace, but he was just so . . . thick. Not big-boned,
exactly - he didn't lean towards obesity. Brian was simply
powerful. He had a solid, naturally muscular frame that had only
been enhanced by a hard summer of training for his first year on
the Varsity football team.
	And he seemed pretty goddamned expectant.
	Grace had horrific visions of bolting upstairs, only to be
tackled and dragged back down by Amber's bull of a boyfriend, who
would be none too gentle, he was sure.
	He stayed in place.
	Amber scooted back a little, shifted across the carpet so that
she and her stepbrother were both looking across the room
together at Brian. "The first thing you need to understand about
men, Grace, is that they're very visual," she instructed. "If
you're going to get a man off, you need to start with a SHOW."
	Amber stood up. Grace instinctively knew that he was not to
follow her lead. "Start from where you are," Amber said, "and
crawl over to him. Lick your lips and your teeth. Show him what's
coming."
	Grace took a deep breath, then started forward. Amber had
corrections.
	"Okay. Okay. Okay." She stepped in front of him to block his
path. "FIRST of all, you're crawling like an elderly goat."
	A guffaw from behind her.
	"Arch your back and lift your head as high as you can," Amber
commanded. "THERE you go. And smile, Grace. That's one of your
most important duties as a woman. If there's a dick in your
sight, you'd better be have a beaming smile on your face, to let
your man know how much you're enjoying him. Always."
	She stepped back to once again clear the path to Brian. "Men are
naturally dominant. When you show this kind of submission, it
plays to his dominance, and it makes him feel more masculine."
	Grace couldn't take any more. He didn't dare go so far as to
break his crawling posture, but he squeaked out a dissent:
"Amber, that's not what YOU'RE like, though, right? Why can't--"
	She cut over him with a knowing chuckle. "Grace!" she laughed,
"I'm describing YOU as a woman, okay? I'M a modern feminist. I
have my own identity and priorities. You . . . you're more like a
1950's housewife, or maybe a 19th century housewife. Trust me
honey, I can see it clear-as-day in your eyes."
	She skipped over to join her boyfriend on the couch, and barked
out another laugh. "For Christssake, Gracie," she exclaimed, with
a touch of disdain, "I can see it in your fucking DICK!"
	Grace found that his penis was rock hard against his belly,
throbbing with excitement; so swollen it was almost purple. He
resumed crawling.
	"Lick your lips!"
	He licked his lips.
	"Smile, goddammit!"
	He smiled. It felt like more of a grimace, but it was good
enough to please her. He continued his crawl over to Brian. He
hoped to God Amber was going to give him more instruction,
because he had no clue what was supposed to happen once he got
there. Grace quickly reviewed the few porn movies he had seen,
and drew a blank.
	He'd been to sleepovers at Dan's house, freshman and sophomore
year, when the more adventurous of the group had sneaked pirated
DVDs into the party. He'd seen enough for a pattern to emerge:
Girl blows guy. Guy eats girl. Guy fucks girl. Guy comes on
girl's face (that was when they'd all giggled).
	In retrospect, those giddy, ribald, moments struck Grace as
phenomenally useless. He knew what a woman's face looked like
with a cock stuffed inside it. But what had been going on in
there? What was it he was supposed to make happen? It occurred to
him, for the first time, that he didn't have the slightest clue
as to what transpired "behind the scenes".
	As it was, Amber came to his rescue. When Grace settled himself
between Brian's thighs, she jumped up off the couch and launched
back into lecture-mode.
	"Now, a lot of guys will strip bare for you by this point," she
told him. "But Brian likes the anticipation. Don't you sweetie?"
Her boyfriend grunted. It could have been an assent.
	"Go ahead and pull his pants down, Grace," Amber instructed.
	Grace felt a perverse surge of relief. At least he would know
what to DO. He unlatched Brian's belt, unbuttoned, unzipped his
fly. Brian raised himself to free his pants. Grace tugged them
down to the floor.
	This couldn't be real.
	"Pull his underwear down," came the patient follow-up. Brian
raised up again, and when Grace pulled back the boxers, he found
an impressive organ. Her boyfriend was mostly flaccid, but
growing. It was like his cock had only needed some air - Grace
stared while it puffed up to a full erection. He was maybe seven
inches long, but as thick as Grace's first three fingers. Like
the rest of his body, Brian's cock exuded . . . power. There was
surprisingly little hair on his thighs and crotch though. Grace
wondered if Brian kept things trimmed at Amber's request.
	"Now, in this case," Amber said, "the cock is fully erect for
you. If it were otherwise, you might have had to massage the
balls; squeeze the base of the shaft a bit. Now like I said, men
are very visual. Lick your lips again."
	He complied.
	"He'll want to see himself go into your mouth," she continued.
"It's not really relevant right now, but when you have longer
hair, you'll want to carry bobby pins to hold it up. Do NOT block
your man's view with your hair."
	For a horrible moment, it all became far too real. The
protective detachment - the nightmare state - dropped away. He
was kneeling in front of a dick. He was about to put it in his
mouth.
	There was no way out.
	His rationalization kicked into overdrive. There was nothing so
bad about a dick. It was just a body part, like any other. He
might as well be sucking on a finger. It wasn't like she was
making him eat dog shit or anything. Plus, he was being
blackmailed into this; he hadn't sought it out.
	But, his inner voice corrected him, that doesn't really change
anything. You're still a cockersucker. A cocksucking whore.
	Amber moved off the couch to squat down beside him.
	"Start slow," she said softly. "Open your mouth a little. That's
it. Now look up into his eyes." That part was horrible, but Grace
managed. He had trouble reading Brian's face - humor, disgust,
sympathy, desire? What was he feeling?
	"You can blow on it a little," Amber suggested. "Stick your
tongue out and tease him. Yeah. He likes being teased a little.
Now, before you make contact, make sure your tongue is dripping
wet. Really work up that spit."
	Grace found that, although his mouth had been dry with anxiety
when he had started his crawl, it was salivating a little now. He
moved the it onto his tongue.
	"OK," she continued, her voice getting husky, "are you wet?" He
nodded. "Then start at the base and give him a nice slow lick to
the top."
	He saw himself on a precipice. Once he did this, he couldn't
UNDO it.
	But his course was set. Grace pressed his tongue into the
underside of Brian's shaft and moved up. He felt it bump his
forehead and scrape along his nose. Brian moaned ever so softly.
	"Do that a couple times," Amber instructed. "Really glob on the
spit. Trust me, the sloppier the better. You'll have plenty of
other opportunities to look like a lady. When you're sucking
cock, you're just a hole."
	After the first lick, it got easier. Grace kept going, coating
Brian in saliva. He tasted . . . like nothing, really. A little
soapy, maybe. Lucky Brian had had football practice tonight, with
the subsequent shower.
	"Good," Amber breathed. "I think you're ready to take the head.
Go on and slurp it up."
	Grace put his lips around Brian's thick head and took it into
his mouth. It felt . . . big. Soft and hard and the same time.
Flesh filled his mouth. On instinct, he swirled his tongue all
around it. Brian gave another moan.
	"Good girl," Amber lauded. "Use that tongue as much as you can.
And make sure you pay attention to the meatus - that's the
opening of his urethra. There are a lot of nerves there. I also
like to rub on the frenulum - the part on the underside of the
head. That's a very special spot. Don't be afraid to use some
pressure. Your tongue is soft; he can handle it."
	Grace moved his tongue around.
	"Very good. Nice start," cooed his mentor. "Start taking some
length now. Cover your teeth with your lips, and let him move
down along the roof of your mouth. Keep going until he plugs your
throat. Try to keep a rhythm. That's the best way to help your
man come."
	Grace started bobbing, and he got another moan. This actually
wasn't too difficult. Humiliating, but not difficult.
	"Don't forget that you have more than your mouth to work with,
Grace," Amber added. "Keep your hands on him. Stroke the shaft.
Play with his balls. But keep the tongue moving too."
	Grace brought his hands into the mix while he continued to bob.
He stroked Brian's length with his right hand. He timidly brought
his left hand up to Brian's sack. Gently rubbing on the balls
brought another moan. Grace kneaded each testicle in turn, all
the while keeping up his bobbing rhythm. He felt Brian's thighs
give a powerful twitch when he came up and pressed his tongue on
the "meatus".
	In that instant, things started to change for Grace. As
humiliated as he was, that feeling of . . . power - it was
undeniable. He controlled Brian's pleasure. HE was the one who
made those massive, powerful legs twitch. When he hazarded a
glace up to Brian's eyes again, that inscrutable look was gone,
replaced by a glazed lust. Grace now commanded the complete
attention of a guy who wouldn't normally give him a passing
thought.
	He bobbed down again. There was a weird vibration in his throat.
It took him a moment to realize that he had moaned.
	Amber heard it. "Mmmm. Nice, but bring that moaning up an
octave, sweetie. Keep it feminine. I LOVE that eye contact. You
want to maintain that as much as you can. It shows him that
you're engaged. It shows him that you're HIS.
	That was no problem. Just three minutes ago, it had taken
everything he's had to look Brian in the eye. But now . . . Grace
thought about Kristen - sucking on her toes and feeling a strange
confidence in spite of his humiliation. That same feeling had
returned. He was once again filled with ideas: mini experiments
to try out with this new thing in his mouth.
	He moaned again, consciously this time, making sure it was as
girly as possible. His inner voice spoke up again. Look at you,
it admonished. You're disgusting. When did you decide to become a
willing participant in your degradation?
	Grace took his hands off Brian's shaft and balls. He rubbed up
and down the inside of those brawny thighs, savoring the warmth.
He scooted in closer, sheltering from the chill of the basement.
All pretenses were gone now. Grace pulled back so that his lips
were seated just behind Brain's head. Covering his teeth, he
applied gentle pressure while rubbing his tongue on the
underside.
	He silenced the voice. What was wrong with playing along? Was
there a dignified way to suck Brian off? So what if he moaned and
nibbled? The degradation was unavoidable; why not have some fun?
If this weird confidence was the only kind of self-possession he
could have, then maybe he was cursed. Maybe he was broken. But
goddammit he was so tired of living like a stranger in his own
skin. Didn't he deserve some comfort? Some competence?
	Brian backed him up.
	"Jesus Christ, Amber! He is so fucking good. Kid's a natural."
	Grace felt a swelling of disgust and a swelling of pride. They
fought each other, and they swirled together. His feelings were
getting foggy. Most of his awareness was now centered on the cock
in his mouth. 	
	Amber was silent. She let Grace go. He bobbed and licked and
sucked for probably another ten minutes. It was impossible to
know how long for sure. Time had become . . . funny.
	"Yeah bitch. Take it," Brian said. Grace felt a hand on the back
of his head, inexorably forcing him down. All at once, the cock
was making its way into his throat, turning from a plaything to a
terrifying intruder.
	He couldn't breathe. In a convulsion of panic, he pulled back as
hard as he could, but Brian brought his other hand to bear and
forced further. Grace found his nose buried in a nest of pubic
hair.
	Several things happened at once. Brian let out a blissful grunt.
Grace felt his stomach roll over. Brian relaxed his hands, and
Grace jerked back. His stomach rolled again as he stumbled to his
feet. He lurched across the room to the wastebasket by the door,
reaching it just in time.
	"Hahahahaha. Gross, dude!" Brian remarked happily while Grace
puked. He's been too nervous to eat much at lunch, so it was
mostly dry heaves. The fog that had enveloped him was burned
away. Grace didn't feel competent or powerful anymore. He felt
naked, cold, lonely, and ashamed.
	When he finished, he turned around to see Amber glaring at him,
hands on hips - as though he'd thrown up on purpose. She turned
away when Brian tugged at her skirt. "Get him on the couch, babe.
I wanna try the other hole," he said, as though nothing had
happened.
	Grace had a moment of terror before Amber answered, "No way,
buddy. Kelly could barely get two fingers in him. You would
absolutely tear it. He needs to be trained first. In BOTH holes,
clearly." In response to Brian's disappointed grumbling she
added, "Besides, it's MY turn with that big dick of yours, sir."
	Oh God. What did she mean - "trained"?
	He didn't get a chance to ask. Amber ordered him upstairs. "Get
cleaned up; brush your teeth. Take your puke with you, and Lysol
that wastebasket." Grace got to his feet and headed for the
stairs. "Hurry up, and then come right back down," she called
after him. "You don't want to miss your special treat!" Brian's
snicker seemed to follow Grace up the stairs. He stumbled halfway
up. Hot tears were blurring his vision.
	When he got to the top, Grace closed the door to the stairway
and leaned back against it. He stood that way for a little while
- naked, clutching a plastic bin of phlegm and vomit,
concentrating only on fighting his despair. Once again, he asked
himself, What am I?
	You're a 'sub', his voice responded. Isn't that obvious? You get
off on being dominated; on serving; on being used. It doesn't
necessarily make you gay, but it sure a fuck makes you a deviant.
	Grace angrily wiped his eyes with his free hand. He didn't
choose ANY of this. Amber was forcing him into this humiliation.
	Ahh, said the voice again. But you COULDN'T choose it, could
you? You have to be forced. It's part of your kink. You need your
will to be removed from the equation. Your little sister's been
doing a fine job of that, and you've been eating it up.
	He admonished himself: Amber was his STEPsister. And he didn't
have a kink. He just wanted OUT of all this crazy shit. Grace
made his way through the kitchen to the laundry room, pushing
down the voice.
	It asked him, in parting: You felt nice with that dick on your
tongue, didn't you?
	Grace shook his head violently, like a dog with an itchy ear.
All he wanted at this point was to get through the night. He
dumped the trash can into the laundry room sink, grabbed some
cleaner and paper towels from the cabinet, and removed all
evidence of his failed deep throat. He did as thorough a job as
he possibly could, consciously delaying his return to the
basement.
	After spraying and wiping for the third time, he heard Amber's
shout drift up from below. He returned the supplies to the
cabinet and made his way back downstairs, stuffing the used paper
towels in the kitchen garbage can along his way. Grace could see
the whole length of the couch from the bottom of the stairwell.
They had left the lights on too. He saw Brian lying supine, both
hands on Amber's chest. She was straddling him; naked, rocking
back and forth.
	Grace automatically turned around, mumbling an apology. Clearly
he was not intended to see THIS.
	"UH, stay here," Amber grunted. Grace froze, unbelieving. "Wait.
Just a. Sec," she commanded as she slid herself along Brian, back
and forth. Grace froze at the foot of the stairs, turned away
from the couple, burning with embarrassment. 	He had thought the
night couldn't get any weirder.
	Grace didn't dare disobey Amber, so he just stood there, head
down, and listened to the panting. After a minute or so, he
became aware of a soft . . . squishing sound. He felt profane for
hearing it.
	Amber didn't seem to mind though. After two or three long
minutes, Brian whispered something, and there was a shuffling
sound.
	"Oh, turn AROUND, you prude," Amber chided her stepbrother
playfully. Grace turned to see her striding towards him, mostly
nude.
	She was still wearing her bra, but the left cup was flipped
down, exposing her nipple. He studied her face; there wasn't a
hint of shame or embarrassment.  Grace knew his relationship with
his stepsister had changed. Did she see him as 'one of the girls'
now? Or something . . . less?
	Amber walked up next to him and pressed on the small of his back
to guide him to the couch. Needing no further direction, Grace
sank to his knees. She smiled.
	Once again, her pedantic tone emerged, like she was giving a
geology lecture: "Gracie, your man's orgasm is very important.
When the time comes, you have two options available to you. You
can wrap your lips around him and have him come in your mouth, or
you can pull back and let him spray it on your face. Either way,
that seed needs to end up inside you." She paused for emphasis,
then: "Obviously, the first method is the easiest - it only takes
one swallow. When he comes on your face, you have to scoop it all
up one glob at a time."
	Grace was fixed on that cock, laid up along Brian's firm belly.
It was going in him again. This time, there was some of Amber on
it too.
	"Now," Amber continued, "Remember again that men are very
visual. Sure, they'll be happy no matter what once they come, but
a visual component will enhance their experience. Eventually,
I'll want you to learn to milk them onto your tongue with your
mouth open. That way, they get to see themselves come on you, but
you get the convenience of swallowing in a single gulp." She
squatted down in front of the couch, next to Grace. "That takes a
bit of coordination, though, so let's start simple. Brian is
going to come in your mouth. Take his head, take the cum, and
SHOW IT TO US before you swallow, OK?"
	Grace nodded, and leaned up over Brian's crotch.
	When he was ten years old, his mother had taken him to Disney
World. It'd been a good year for her company, and for her team;
she'd beaten her sales quota and earned a generous bonus. Even
then, Grace had appreciated the fact that Valerie had spent a lot
of the bonus money on HIM. He was sensitive, just as Amber had
noticed.
	That had been his perfect week. Not so much the rides and
spectacle, but the special moments, when he knew he was his mom's
world; when he commanded all her attention. Staring at that thick
cock now, he thought of the very last ride they had been on: the
log flume in Splash Mountain.  It had started slow, kind of like
the Small World ride. Even though he had seen the plunge from
outside, Grace had started after a few minutes to doubt that HE
would ever take it. Then, finally, came the rise. Their little
craft had seemed to sit there forever, on the precipice. He'd
looked down on the drop before them, felt a shiver of fear and
anticipation at the inevitability: THAT'S where they were going.
	Grace felt the same way as he looked down on Brian's dick.
That's where he was going.
	He pulled the shaft off that firm belly with his right hand, and
guided the head into his mouth. This time, there was a strong
taste: Amber. Overall, it wasn't too bad. Tangy; kind of bitter.
Knowing it came from her made it okay somehow. He found it a
little exciting - he'd just gained a new intimacy with his
stepsister. He'd tasted her pussy.
	It was only a few seconds before Brian mixed with Amber. His
hips starting bucking, and Grace tried to match the movements so
that Brian didn't go down his throat again. The cum was salty;
viscous. It didn't taste too bad, really, but the texture was
awful; like mucous.
	Grace didn't lose it this time, however. He waited out Brian's
orgasm -- that thick head thrusting and jerking into his mouth.
There was once more a meaty hand on the back of his head, but it
didn't force him down, like last time. When Brian's movements
finally died, Grace pulled up, tightening his lips to keep the
seal as they left the jock's tip.
	"SHOW us," she commanded. He tilted his head back and opened his
mouth. Amber seemed pleased. Brian wasn't even looking at him.
	"OK. Swallow it down," she instructed patiently. It was like
gulping down a mass of phlegm -- from another dude, no less - but
Grace managed. His throat tightened, and his stomach gave a
little lurch, but he kept it down. Amber was tickled pink.
	"THERE you go! Good girl!" She stood up; grabbed Grace's hands
to help him to his feet. "Grace," she said seriously, "that was
the whole deal, from start to finish. Now that you've taken your
man's cum, you are HIS." She stepped around behind him. Still
freezing without clothes, Grace was keenly aware of the warmth of
her body on his back. She reached up to his throat, then dragged
her nails down to his belly button.
	"Brian is INSIDE you now, Gracie. He's going to stay inside you
for the next . . . day or so?" She traced one finger in circles
on his stomach. "You're going to take him in, digest him, use him
for nourishment. Brian has marked you. You're HIS. Now that
you've received his gift, you need to thank him. Say a nice
thank-you sweetie."
	Grace met Brian's eyes. "Um, thank you . . . sir?" he spit out.
	"Yeah," came the reply. Amber's boyfriend didn't seem
interested.
	For the second time that night, she gave her stepbrother a sharp
swat on the ass.
	"Go on," she urged, "you're done, darlin'. Go on upstairs." He
made his way up to the kitchen again, and Amber called out her
last instruction: "DON'T brush your teeth, Grace! You should
taste Man all night."
	Grace stumbled up to his room, no tears this time. He didn't
turn on the hall light, or the lamp in his room. Working in the
dark, he pulled his phone and ear buds off the dresser. There
would be no more self-conversation tonight. He started a
play-list - Beethoven's Seventh -  then cranked up the volume and
wrapped up in his comforter. He couldn't couldn't handle any more
reflection; more introspection. Grace was thoroughly tired of
thinking about himself. With furious effort, he became the
melodies instead. Sleep came mercifully soon, in the second
movement. He had no dreams.




To Be Continued in Chapter 3 - In Which Grace Begins his Outward
Transformation
	
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