Author: Broken Compass
Title: Grace Saved
Part: 1
Summary: An awkward teen begins his transformation at the hands
of his dominant little stepsister.
Keywords: mff, reluc, huml, fdom, feet, tg?

*********************************
DISCLAIMER
*********************************
The author welcomes feedback of all kinds. This is his first
story EVER, and he can't wait to hear from you.
Please email: BrokenCompass6626@gmail.com

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.


-----------------------------------------------------------
Grace Saved
Chapter 1 - In Which Our Players are Introduced, and a Discovery
is Made
Grace is an awkward high school Junior with a spoiled stepsister
and distant mother. When he finally gets the attention he's been
craving, it takes a surprising form, and leaves him ashamed and
confused.
---------------------------------------------------------------

	Grace woke up Monday morning with a pit in his stomach - a sort
of gentle clawing. At first it was an entirely physical feeling,
but as his brain came online, he remember WHY he was so anxious.
Oh, yeah: the show he gave last night. With that recall, the
clawing became more insistent. He went to the bathroom to throw
up. Nothing happened, so he sat on the tile floor in front of the
toilet for a little while, waiting for the nausea to pass.
	He hated himself. He felt so stupid for trying to be a hotshot,
and going against the pattern that had been working so smoothly
for the last four years. Give your stepsister what she wants.
Just do what she says and she leaves you alone, mostly. Why did
he think he would change anything by standing up to her? But he
had needed to finish that paper so badly, and it was HIS
computer, after all. He worked so hard to save up. He bought it
with all his own money.
	The paper had been the first research project for Mr. Williams'
World History class, and Grace had been putting it off all week.
He didn't like to even think about Mr. Williams' class, so he was
always procrastinating on the homework. Mr. Williams was one of
those teachers that never had to tell the class to "quiet down"
or "listen up". He enforced discipline completely through
strength of personality. He had a way of being really stern, but
fun at the same time. Any high school teacher knows that
teenagers can smell weakness. They can also appreciate strength:
Mr. Williams was both liked and respected.
	Grace hated him.
	At any given time, Mr. Williams had a handful of "inside jokes"
going on with each of his classes- things he would hammer on to
maintain the jocular atmosphere of his lectures: Alex's funny
haircut, Brian's awful pronunciation of "Constantinople" ...
whatever. It usually lasted a week or two, then he'd find another
kid to single out. But his fixation on Grace's name had last over
a month now; since the first day of school.
	Usually Mr. Williams only picked on the loud kids; the brash
ones who needed some rough attention to keep them focused.
Couldn't he see how shy Grace was? How badly he blushed every
time the class would focus on him? Grace already stuck out.
Puberty was taking its sweet time with him. It seemed like all
his friends were filling out in the shoulders, growing chest
hair, and leaving him behind; a pale, slender child. Plus, his
Mom had given him that ridiculous name, and he was forbidden from
going by anything else. He was painfully self-conscious, and the
last thing he needed was a spotlight.
	Yet a spotlight is what Mr. Williams would provide, no matter
what Grace did. When he slouched down in the back of the room and
tried to go unnoticed, Mr. Williams would croon out Paul Simon:
"There's some part of me wants to see Graceland, everybody! Come
on, mister Barre. Grace us with your answer! You know this one!"
And then when he joined in the class discussion, it would be
"GRACE-fully answered," or Mr. Williams favorite, a dramatic
"a-ma-ziii-ng Grace!" bellowed out in a thundering baritone.
	There was no way out.
	The puns quickly lost their flavor for his classmates, but most
would still turn to watch him whenever he was named. He blushed
every time, and Grace was so pale that the color change was
impossible to miss. Mr. Williams got a solid laugh comparing
Grace to a cherry snow cone.
	But the absolute worst: the erections. Every time Mr. Williams
made him blush, he would feel a twitch, and then he would be
throbbing within a few heartbeats.
	Grace had heard other guys complaining about "random boners". It
was a common high school ailment. They would commiserate about
being caught by their surprise hard-ons at weird moments, and
shared tips and tricks for concealing them. At first, he felt
better knowing he wasn't alone, but it didn't take him long to
realize that his problem was different from his peers'. It was
only happening in Mr. Williams class, when all those eyes pinned
him like a butterfly in a shadowbox.
	What was wrong with him?
	He wanted to tell his teacher how uncomfortable he was. He'd
read self-help books and practiced his "assertiveness speech",
but he couldn't will away the pulsing stiffness that tented into
his jeans whenever he prepared to walk up to the desk after
class.
	So he resigned himself to the blushing and unwanted boners. He
grew adept at holding his binder on his lap. What else could he
do? He just didn't want it to get worse.
	And it could get worse: when Kevin Josner forgot his daily
reading notes on Tuesday, Mr. Williams made him sing a chorus of
"I'm a Little Teapot" - in front of everyone. So although Grace
procrastinated on his history homework, he always always always
got it done.
	But none of that mattered anymore. Grace hadn't known real
humiliation until last night. He problems in Mr. Williams' class
now seemed like a grotesque rehearsal; a prelude to what Amber
did to him.
	He pushed himself to his feet, and as he went through his
morning routine he reflected on the bizarre nightmare that was
last night...


	... Although it had really started on Saturday. Grace had set
aside the afternoon to put a dent in his history paper. It took
him a while to get his notes together, but he was starting to
build momentum by three o'clock. It was almost half-finished when
Amber came in. She introduced herself, as always, not by knocking
but by quietly turning the knob before kicking the door open as
hard as she could. She loved the way he jumped.
	"Let's go, Gracie. Put your dick back in your pants. I need to
post my pics from Karen's party."
	Grace took a deep breath. He had been reading about
assertiveness, and that was always how you were supposed to
start: deep breath, then state your needs clearly. "I'm working
on a paper, Amber, and it's really--"
	"Fine, whatever. But go nerd it up somewhere else. I don't want
you looking over my shoulder when I'm on Facebook."
	"I don't - I have to finish, um--" He stumbled, composure
already breaking.
	"Umumumumum," Amber spat back, thrusting out her lower lip and
opening her eyes wide in her standard "Flustered Grace"
impersonation. "You can do your homework whenever, Gracie. I need
to go on Facebook NOW, so move it."
	Looking back, Grace didn't know why he chose that moment to put
his foot down. He had always caved to Amber. Except that time,
there had been a clear image in his mind of Mr. Williams
classroom, as viewed from the front. Everyone looking up at him;
waiting for him to sing. In his terror, he found his voice.
	"No, Amber! NO! You always get what you want and I'm sick of it.
I bought this computer with my own money, and I need it to do my
paper, and I'M using it, and you're not!"
	She laughed at him. It was a genuine laugh, and beautiful at
that - a sweet, lilting trickle. "Wha- what? Really, sweetie?
Balls, finally?"
	Grace was boiling. He got up and grabbed his petite stepsister
around the shoulders.
	"Get. The fuck. Out," he enunciated slowly as he walked her to
the door, then closed it in her face.
	His satisfaction at standing up to Amber didn't last through the
five steps back to his desk. That look on her face as the door
closed had been confusion, surprise, maybe even a touch of fear?
She was definitely thrown off. Because she didn't come back in;
she walked away. He could hear the telltale floor-creak between
his Mom's door and the kitchen. Grace tried to feel proud of
himself for asserting, but his fear wouldn't let go. Amber had
been tormenting him ever since she became a part of the family,
but the torments had become predictable; familiar. What was an
off-balance Amber going to do?
	Amber knew what she looked like: petite but well-proportioned
body. Silky chestnut hair, stunning dark eyes; and a pert little
mouth that worked in tandem with her impudent, upturned nose to
give her face an irresistible draw. Amber was almost exactly the
same age as Grace - three weeks younger - but she had breezed
through puberty like a skipping stone during freshman year. While
Grace was still checking for new hair every day and waiting for
his voice to stop cracking.
	She was supremely comfortable in her body, and had long ago
learned to use her looks to get what she wanted. With guys at
school it was social status, jewelry, clothes. With teachers it
was grades. With Grace, it was entertainment.
	Grace sat down to finish his paper, but the momentum was gone.
All he could think about now was Amber. What was coming? He
couldn't believe that his display of dominance had somehow earned
her respect. He knew her too well. How would her retaliation
compare to her usual torments?
	Normally, she fed off his awkwardness. Her favorite game: she
would go out of her way to wander past him, fresh out of the
shower, wrapped in a towel, then yell, "Grace! Ew! Stop staring!
Just let me go back to my room you perv!" As he became more
careful to avoid eye contact, she would work harder to catch his
eye, forcing him into a conversation before casually removing her
jacket to expose a too-small halter top, then:  "Grace, I'm
trying to talk to you! Stop staring at my tits!"
	If he took to staring at the floor, all she had to do was go
barefoot, then berate him for his "obscene foot fetish".
	She'd been playing the game for years and she hadn't tired of it
because he always got flustered. Always. Even though he knew her
indignation was false, he would always lose his composure, blush,
stammer, break a flop-sweat, and do all the other little things
that seemed to delight her so much.
	Because he WAS attracted to her. In truth, even her feet excited
him - those plump little toes, brightly painted... so her
accusations weren't completely off the mark. And maybe there was
something wrong with him if she could still make him react so
strongly after four years. They were brother and sister now, as
she would often tell him, and he wasn't supposed to have "bad
thoughts" about her. It was unnatural. In truth, even her feet
excited him - those plump little toes, brightly painted...
	By now, Amber had dropped all pretext of subtlety. She would
walk up in her little jean shorts and ask, "Grace, sweetie, is
there anything stuck to the back of my pants?" He'd know what was
coming, but he couldn't help but play into her hands.
	Because if he refused to play at all, she'd break out her best
tears for his mom; bawling about how Grace wouldn't even LOOK at
her and she didn't know what she'd done to make him HATE her,
etc. That would get him grounded without question. Amber's word
was gospel to Grace's mom, and Mom was big into the Gospel these
days.
	Grace was eventually able to start writing again, although he
couldn't completely purge Amber from his thoughts. It took
another four hours, but he finished the paper. As he crawled into
bed, he decided it actually hadn't been a bad day. He had all day
tomorrow to edit his paper, and no other homework.
	His exhausted mind turned again to his stepsister, and he
decided that things with her didn't turn out badly either. Maybe
she  had finally tired of messing with him. They were going to be
Seniors in less than a year, and legal adults not long after
that. Maybe she was growing up. Maybe a little show of backbone
had been the trigger to end the adolescent stage of their
relationship. Maybe THAT was why she had walked away when he'd
closed the door on her.
	Grace was half-asleep when his inner voice corrected him: maybe
she's planning something for you that you can't even imagine.
Maybe it's going to get a whole lot worse.


	First thing Sunday morning, it did get worse. Right away. Grace
woke to a blinding flash of pain in his groin. He found himself
curled into a ball, battling the grip of nausea around his
throat.
	"Oh, I'm sorry, Gracie," Amber crooned, in her most innocent
little-girl voice. "My knee must have slipped. I guess having
balls is a double-edged sword, huh?"
	Grace had no response. He was still fighting not to vomit. Amber
hopped down from his bed and stood over him, waiting patiently
while he slowly unfolded himself to look up at her.
	"I just came in to deliver these." She tossed some papers down
on the bed. Grace sat up and looked at the pictures: four 8x10's
of a computer screen - depicting VERY hardcore sex. Gay sex. One
guy sucking on another guy's dick. One guy sitting backwards on
another guy's lap, the dick going into his butt-hole. Grace found
himself staring, as if at a car wreck. It was just so surprising,
and so vivid. He knew that's what some guys did, but to see it
...
	Amber snatched the pictures up again after a moment. "That's
right, you fucking pervert," she hissed. "I knew you were sick,
but even for you this is shocking."
	"What?"
	"Maybe after your next filthy faggot porn session you'll
remember to clear your browser history. Or gee, I don't know, at
least close the window so I don't have to sit down to see a bunch
of thick wet cocks reaming out gay assholes. This smut might get
YOU off, but I keep myself pure."
	"Wha- wait. That's not MINE." Grace was reeling. "And how did
you guess my password?"
	Amber laughed; a sound like honey. "That's not your computer,
dumb-ass. I went to Serena's after you decided to try for Man of
the House. But what's Mom going to think of my story, huh? Do you
want to explain to her why you were salivating over shaved gay
hunks?"
	He knew instantly that she had him. If it was his word against
Amber's, he would lose. Amber was the clear favorite in the
family. His mom had been fawning over her ever since she and her
dad moved in the summer after eighth grade. It wasn't that she
didn't love her son, but Valerie had always wanted a girl. For
Christ's sake, she named him Grace. 	Of course, she would never
admit her disappointment. He used to complain about his name, but
his Mom insisted it was gender-neutral. "Plus," she'd told him,
"it's a testimony to my salvation. It was thanks to you,
sweetheart. It wasn't until I got pregnant with you that I began
pulling myself away from the degenerate path your father was
leading me down."
	She'd never really explained that. All Grace knew about his
father was that the man had worked as a CPA, had died in a car
crash when his mom was six months pregnant ... and had been a
"vile sinner of the flesh."
	"Your father carried lust in his heart," she'd said gravely,
"and he almost dragged me down too. God bless and keep his soul,
but your father's accident really was the work of the Lord. God
freed me, through his grace, so that's what I named you." 	
	His mom went to church a lot.
	"The point is," she would always say, emphatically, "the name
doesn't make the man, Grace."
	If only he could feel like a man. Right now, Grace was instead a
possession -- Amber's toy. That much was evident in her smug
little face.
	"So, can we agree that you need to learn a lesson?" she jeered.
	Grace sighed, "Yes, Amber."
	"Good.  I've decided that since you are ever so proud of your
big-boy balls, you might like to show them off."
	"What?"
	"Show them off. You're going to put on a show for me and my
friends tonight."
	"What?"
	"Put on a show. Don't make me repeat myself again, Grace. You're
going to dress up and do a little dance for me, Serena, and
Kristen. When you've performed to my satisfaction I'll tear these
pictures up."
	"What do you mean 'dress up'?"
	"God DAMMIT Grace! If I hear 'what' come out of your mouth one
more time, those brand new balls are coming off, do you
understand?" Amber's intensity was frightening.
	"Y-Yes, Amber," Grace stammered.
	"Good!" Her mood flipped back instantly. "Go ahead and get
ready," she chirped, "then I'll show you what I've picked out for
you!"
	"Get ready?" he said hesitantly, carefully avoiding the W-word.
	Amber rolled her eyes, then said in a mocking imitation of his
careful tone, "take a shower. Brush your teeth. Put on clothes.
Get. Ready. Jesus, Grace. Get ready, and then come find me again.
OK?"

	When Grace was showered and dressed, he didn't have to look far
for Amber. She was standing in front of his closet with a pair of
scissors.
	"Which of these are your favorite pants, sweetie?"
	He didn't know what was coming, but he knew better than to tell
the truth.
	"Um, these ones." He'd been meaning to give those jeans to
Goodwill; they were way too small.
	"Those pants are shit, Grace, but you've actually got the right
idea. We want something that will really hug you." Amber pull out
the jeans and proceeded to cut out the crotch - two snips,
forming an upside-down vee. "OK. Try these on."
	Grace must have looked at her a beat too long: her expression
darkened sharply. She didn't have to say anything. He grabbed the
jeans and went to the bathroom.
	He emerged to a frown of disapproval. "Not the underwear,
moron," Amber scolded. "Do you not understand the fucking point
of this exercise? We're showing off your balls! Come on. They're
something to be proud of, right? Lose the boxers."
	Grace turned to go back in, but she stopped him. "You can change
right here, Grace. Apparently I need to supervise."
	Grace balked for a moment, but then he thought of his mom. He
thought of how she would react to those pictures. Valerie thought
The Simpsons was obscene. What would she say about hardcore gay
pornography? He dropped his pants, and then his underwear.
	"Oh... oh, uh-uh, sweetheart," Amber frowned.
	"Wha - is there something wrong?" Grace asked, pants around his
ankles, blood rushing to his ears and neck.
	"That hair needs to go," Amber directed, motioning at his crotch
in a lazy circle. "That thin, scraggly attempt at pubes is just
pathetic, Gracie. That's not what a man looks like, and it's not
helping your balls' image. It should just come off."
	Grace took a deep breath. "OK, Amber. Look; I'm sorry I touched
you last night. I shouldn't have - "
	Amber slapped him sharply in the face. Not too hard. Just enough
to silence him. To humiliate him. "I think now's the time I made
myself entirely clear, Grace darling. When I tell you to do
something, you do it, or Momma sees these pictures as soon as she
gets home, got it? GOT IT?!"
	"Yes," he choked.
	"Now if you aren't comfortable shaving your balls and your
crotch, I know Kristen would be happy to do it. She loves that
kind of freaky shit," Amber jeered.
	"No! OK, OK. I'm going."
	Amber had some odd friends. Kennedy High School could have been
the inspiration for The Breakfast Club - it had all the
stereotypical cliques. Yet Amber didn't fit into any of them. All
the way back to freshman year, it had just been Amber and Her
Friends. It was like she was her own clique, and all different
types were drawn to her.
	Lately, there had been three main friends that Grace saw at the
house. Serena was the beautiful, quirky drama chick; gorgeous and
demure. Kelly was the salt-of-the-earth party girl. Boisterous,
crude, and aggressively sexual. Amber herself filled the
cheerleader role. Although she had never actually BEEN a
cheerleader, she was athletic, perky, and always dating jocks.
	Finally, there was Kristen. The nerd, it seemed like. Kristen
had glasses, not-so-great skin, and stringy, greasy hair. She had
the most impact on Grace. It was her stare. Grace seemed to hold
a fascination for her. Every time she was over at the house, he
would catch her staring at him. He wished he could have Amber's
confidence - call her out on it, scold her and embarrass her.
Instead, he just took it, blushing and dropping his eyes to the
floor.
	She was so quiet, and it made her that much more intimidating.
She never said more than two words; never seemed to smile.
	Grace would do just about anything to not be left alone with
Kristen. Those stares were so insistent, and somehow indifferent
at the same time. Like he was an interesting exhibit. Bad enough
she was going to see his bare crotch that night. God ... he
couldn't imagine Kristen in the bathroom with him, shaving his
privates.
	And yet, to his horror, the thought made his dick jump. It was
just a twitch; Amber didn't seem to notice. Luckily, he had
turned away from her to stumble to the bathroom by the time it
started to really rise.
	Sitting in the bathtub, he shaved himself as best he could. His
erection actually made the process a little easier, but he hoped
to God it would go away before Amber could see.
	"How's it going in there?" she called, as if on cue.
	"Uh .. good. Fine."
	"Well hurry up. We still have more to do after this."
	Grace worked as quickly as he dared. When he was finished, he
ran the faucet as cold as it would go. He kneeled down with his
legs spread, bending backwards to thrust his crotch towards the
stream. He was a little too tall, so he used one hand to splash
water up on his throbbing cock while bracing the other behind him
to keep from falling backwards. It helped. He probably could have
gotten completely soft, too, if Amber had just kept quiet.
	"Let's GO, Gracie! You've rinsed long enough!" she yelled. "If
we run out of time to finish your outfit, you'll just have to be
naked!"
	 "Ugh," he groan as his cock started to rise again, despite the
effects of the water.
	What was wrong with him?
	"I know the girls would all love watching your cute little bare
butt shake around when you dance for us."
	"I'll be right out!" Grace scrambled out of the tub and stood
paralyzed for a moment. Then he knew what he had to do. "I uh ...
I missed a spot," he said while drying off. "I'm just gonna go
over it again real quick ... so that it'll be nice and smooth."
He prayed she would buy it.
	Grace stroked himself furiously. He didn't know what his problem
was, but now was the time for self-preservation, not
self-analysis. His body seemed to respond to embarrassment, so
he'd use that to get rid of this boner. He imagined himself 
naked in front of Amber's friends, being laughed at. His heart
pounded, and his dick throbbed. He pictured himself naked in
front of his whole history class. The was lurch of excitement
right behind his belly button, and he felt his balls start to
tighten up. He picked up the pace. He'd already started down the
home stretch - this would be a record time.
	What happened next was a pivotal event in Grace's life. Had
things gone differently, he might have been able to go back -- to
just do this one embarrassing thing so Amber could have her
revenge, then go on with his regular life.
	However, things went like this: just as Grace began to feel that
familiar warm tightness, he heard the the knob turn. Why hadn't
he locked the door?! He reached for a towel. He'd barely made it
halfway when he locked eyes with Amber. A look of disgusted
amusement grew on her face as her eyes dropped to his bare crotch
and straining cock.
	Then he came.
	Since he was already reaching for the towel, he kept going --
grabbed it and pulled it over his crotch in time to catch the
last few shots. Most of his jizz had landed on the sink and the
cabinet below it. A few globs made it up to the vanity mirror.
	Even through the fog of his panicked orgasm, Grace registered
the fact that Amber had been motionless and silent while he was
pumping. He expected her to freak out and scream at him. But she
didn't say anything at first. She looked around the bathroom
slowly before locking eyes with Grace again.
	"Ho-ly shit. You're getting off on this! You really ARE a perv.
And I knew it." She laughed again, but this time it seemed forced
- almost a cough. "I MUST have known. I could have picked like a
thousand different ways to get back at you, but I decided to
frame you for being a perv. Subconsciously, I must have known.
I've always teased you, just to have fun. But it's REAL! That is
so fucking WILD."
	Grace squatted silent on the bathmat. Those dark little eyes
studied him carefully for a moment, then Amber drew a sharp
breath. "Is it gay shit too Grace? Are you into that?"
	"NO!" He startled himself. He hadn't meant to be so loud. This
time Amber's laugh was real - it had that familiar lilt again.
	"Me thinks FAG doth protest too much." She did another survey of
the bathroom, hands on hips. "Well, how am I going to punish you
then? Hmmm? Isn't really a punishment if it gives you an orgasm,
is it Gracie? What should I do instead?"
	"Um ... I don't know Amber"
	"Me neither. I have to think about this, Grace. I'll let you
know what I decide. In the meantime, you might want to clean up
your come before your mother gets home."
	
	
	Grace had never been so humiliated. He stumbled through the rest
of the morning in a fog. He fruitlessly scanned his paper for
typos and grammar mistakes, giving up after he caught himself
re-reading the same paragraph for the fifth time. He watched TV
in the basement for a while, unable to focus on what he was
seeing.
	Everything had the cottony quality of a dream. He half-expected
to suddenly wake up to a normal life; one in which his stepsister
had not watched him come all over the bathroom.
	As the afternoon wore on, however, the world began to regain its
edge. Grace realized that he had no idea when Amber  was coming
back to hand down his fate. At about four o'clock, on the edge of
panic, he finally went looking for her, ready to be done with it
all. She wasn't anywhere.
	Realizing he was alone in the house, Grace had an inspiration.
He decided to take preemptive measures. He locked himself in his
bedroom and drew the shades. Peeking out around the side of the
curtain, he could look straight down onto the driveway and see
the approach to the front door. Ever vigilant, he relieved
himself for the second time that day.  Whatever his stepsister
had planned, he would NOT get hard again.
	After taking such care, Grace got a little superstitious - while
he was stroking himself, he had half-expected Amber to jump out
of his closet or something. But the session was uneventful. Ever
so slightly calmer when finished, he settled down to wait.
	It wasn't long. Amber arrived home with his mom just before
five. The two had been shopping. This was nothing new. It was how
they had first bonded when Amber and her father moved in. After
Bill left, they'd drawn even closer together, spending long
afternoons out at the mall while Grace bummed around the house.
	That was when he had decided that Amber was Mom's favorite --
halfway through Sophomore year when "times were tight" and his
allowance had stopped, Amber would come home from the mall with a
new outfit or new handful of CD's every weekend.
	"Dear Lord, Grace!" his mother had exclaimed when he complained
about the disparity. "The poor girl has just lost her father! You
need to stop focusing on yourself, honey."
	Grace had known when further argument was useless. Even so, he
couldn't understand why his otherwise reasonable, balanced mother
acted like the man had just stepped on a landmine in Iraq, when
in fact he had decided to move in with some whore two towns over.

	In that respect, Grace did feel for his stepsister. She hadn't
been a "part of the family" for more than eight weeks before her
father basically abandoned her with pseudo-strangers. To Grace's
knowledge, there had never been a child-support payment, never
even a phone call. So why his mother talked about the man like he
was a fallen hero was beyond him. He considered Valerie Barre to
have two pocket psychoses - two isolated areas of insanity. One
was the Church, the other was Dillon Jefts.
	Amber didn't say anything when she got home. Grace had to help
with meal prep so he didn't get a chance to talk to her anyway.
She certainly acted normal all though dinner.
	On Sundays, Grace's Mom was in the habit of attending a bible
study group from 6:30 to 9:00. She usually cleared out right
after dinner, and tonight was no exception. It wasn't until their
shared kitchen cleanup duty began that Amber brought up his
punishment again.
	"I've been thinking, Grace, " she said once they heard the
garage door closing. "I've decided that things haven't really
changed. Ultimately, my goal isn't really to punish you, it's to
teach to do as I say."
	Grace tried to meet her gaze but ended up studying her shoes.
	"Tonight's going to be  an exercise in obedience," she
continued. "Prove that you can obey, and I promise you I will
tear up the pictures. OK?"
	He nodded. Amber suddenly reached out and lifted his chin, as a
parent would a child. It was silly, because he was a full seven
inches taller than her, but it had the effect of raising his eyes
from her shoes to her face.
	"Don't worry," she intoned with an uncharacteristic softness.
"I'm not a monster. I'm not going to TORTURE you. Is that what
you've been thinking, hmm?" Grace found himself returning her
smile, stupidly. "You just need to learn boundaries, Grace. This
will be for your own good; you'll see. Now come on, let's get
these dishes done. My friends will be here soon."
	Getting the dishes done, as always, involved Grace loading,
scrubbing, rinsing, and drying while Amber sat at the kitchen
table texting. He had not quite finished with the last pan when
the doorbell rang.
	"That's Kelly!" Amber announced, "I'll get it!"
	Amber and Kelly went straight to the basement. The far corner of
the kitchen opened onto the foyer and Grace could have watched
Kelly come in, but he kept his eyes on the pan instead. He heard
the doorbell ring twice more, and, without looking up,  took
inventory of Amber's guests -- he recognized the voices. Serena
had the thrilling soprano, and Kristen the smooth, dark
contralto. Grace stood at the sink for a good ten minutes after
finishing the dishes. Part of him couldn't wait to get it over
with. But another part screamed in rebellion. He was going to go
down there and expose himself to four girls IN HIS SAME CLASS?
There had to be another way!
	Furious calculation had failed him. If he didn't go along with
this he knew his mom would buy Amber's story. He knew she would
freak out and do something drastic. This ... well, this was just
a moment in time, he told himself.  It would be over soon.
	 After all three of her friends were settled in, Amber called up
to Grace. With a pit in his stomach, he made his way downstairs.
The four girls were seated in the big couch directly opposite the
TV - Serena and Kelly sandwiched between Amber and Kristen.
	"Hiii Graaace!" Kelly and Serena sang in unison. Kristen, as
usual, remained silent but served up a penetrating stare.
	Amber, without looking up from her phone, directed him to the
bathroom in the corner. "Your outfit's in there, sweetie. Get
changed, then come on out and I'll explain the rules."
	Head down, he trudged over to the bathroom. His path took him
close enough to the couch that Kelly was able to lean forward and
grab his hand.
	"You didn't say hi to me Gracie," she mock-scolded.
	Kelly was, Grace judged, the most likely to make this ordeal
unpleasant. Brassy, abrasive, and overly sexual, she was even
better than Amber at making him blush. So full of questions: Who
did he have a crush on? Who had a crush on him? When was he
getting a girlfriend?
	She liked to touch him too. Hanging on him; making him flex his
biceps for her. Raving about "her big strong man" while she
stroked his arm. He was painfully aware of how thin he was.
	Grace stammered at her, "Hi. Hi, Kelly," before pulling away.
	When he turn the light on in the bathroom, all he saw was the
pair of pants Amber had cut the crotch out of. What had he gotten
himself into?
	"No masturbating, Grace!" Kelly yelled much too loud as he
closed the door. The couch erupted in laughter. Clearly, they had
already heard about this morning.
	Grace didn't waste any time. He stripped down, threw on the
pants, and walked back out. He just wanted this done with
forever.
 	There was one positive aspect so far: his planning had paid
off. Even though his whole body felt flush and he could feel his
heart pounding in his temples, his exposed dick was still
completely soft. He sure was glad he'd brought himself off again
before Amber got home. A boner was the only thing that could make
this ordeal worse.
	To be sure, all eyes were on his penis. After the obligatory
squeal, Kelly was the first to speak up: "It's kinda ... small,
don'tcha think, Amber? I thought shaving off the pubes was
supposed to make it look bigger!"
	"Come on, Kelly," Amber said like a mother correcting an errant
child, "it's pretty cold down here. You do know about shrinkage,
right? Plus, I've seen it hard. He's at least six inches."
	"I know about shrinkage, Amber. Gawd. You're full of shit.
Little Gracie's packing a stack of dimes. I can see five, MAYBE.
Not six."
	"Get him hard and measure it," Serena piped in.
	Goddamn. Grace always forgot just how beautiful Serena was. She
had a slender delicacy that lent her an aristocratic look. Her
dancer's posture and swan-like neck. Her lovely high cheekbones
and brilliant blonde hair were captivating. The thing about
Serena was: he could describe her to his friends, and he could
recollect her image, but when she was actually in the room, she
had a visceral impact that couldn't be stored in memory or
codified in language with any justice.
	Did he have a crush? Yes he did.
	In an instant, he wholeheartedly regretted agreeing to this
shit. He should have just taken his chances with his mother. When
Serena looked at him, he wanted so badly to just run away. But at
this point what good would that do? No sense in taking on BOTH
punishments.
	Grace stood on display in the center of the room. Serena's
suggestion hung in the air for a long moment, then Amber set down
her phone and smiled up at him.
	"Before we start to play," she announced, rising to stand next
to him, "Grace needs to know the rules."
	All eyes were on Amber. Apparently her friends hadn't heard the
rules either.
	"OK. So we each get to make one request of Grace. Anything we
want - within reason - he has to do."
	Grace had thought his heart couldn't pound any harder, but it
found another gear. Anything? He'd thought she was just going to
make him jump around for a minute. This was news.
	"I'll be the moderator of each request," she went on. "Grace
will have ONE opportunity to pass."
	"I request that Grace can't pass," chimed Kelly.
	"Granted," echoed Amber, without missing a beat. "If Grace meets
the requirements of all valid requests, the material against his
interest will be nullified, as per the agreement. Grace will be
given three strikes before the contract, heretofore agreement, is
considered breached."
	The mock-parliamentary tone didn't surprise him. She was really
into her Poli. Sci. class this year. "Any insubordination, or
significant hesitation at a request, will constitute a 'strike'
on his part, and a breach of the agreement."
	"Wait," he stumbled frantically, "do I get to pass?"
	"That's been excised, Grace. Pay attention," Amber chided him.
"I will now open the floor to requests."
	Kelly demanded without hesitation: "Get your dick hard!"
	Grace pleaded with his stepsister. "She already went though,
right?"
	Kelly didn't miss a beat either: "I request additional
requests."
	"Granted."
	Grace stood mute, still trying to digest what he had heard.
	Looking back, it would seem like a vivid nightmare. Images and
sensations flash past but can't be controlled. Trying to slow
down the car; trying to make a turn. Trying to dial a phone.
Trying to run from an attacker. In a nightmare, events proceed
relentlessly, in spite of the most concentrated application of
contrary will.
	So it was with Grace's "show". Things just started happening to
him, and he just kept doing things. Because it was so very too
late to go back. He knew that at the deepest level.
	"Get it hard!" Kelly bleated again. "Here, you can look at my
tits!"
	She unhooked her bra and lifted her shirt up to the neck. She
had really nice boobs, Grace decided. He wouldn't call Kelly fat,
but she had a solid frame - the largest of her friends. He didn't
know the different letter sizes, but her chest was generous. When
she cupped her hands under her breasts to lift them, he could
almost feel the lovely weight, the smooth softness.
	But despite the appeal, he stayed soft, glad he'd prepared for
this. After a few beats, Kelly dropped her shirt. He saw
something flash across her face -  hurt? He felt a pang of guilt.
Did she feel rejected?
	If she did, she didn't let it slow her down. "I request Grace
jerk it," she said impatiently. "I want to see how big he gets."
	"Wait wait," Serena jumped in, giggling, "you're such a hornball
Kelly. Let's have him dance first. I request Grace do a sexy
dance for us."
	He was paralyzed. Kelly started streaming Fatboy Slim's "Praise
You" on her phone. It was an easy enough song to dance to --- he
could sort of picture the video - that guy in the mall or
something. Yet still he stood motionless. Four girls jeered at
him.
	"Let's go!"
	"Shake it!"
	Grace had NEVER danced. He had never even tried. He had no idea
what to tell his body to do.
	"That's strike one already Grace," Amber announced flatly.
"Pretty early in the game, don't you think? Just for that, you
lose the pants."
	Grace still hesitated.
	"I can call your mom on her cell right now, darling."
	He stripped off the jeans. Four pairs of eyes burrowed into him.
He still couldn't bring himself to start dancing.
	Serena was constructive at least. "Just start off by bouncing
your knees a little ... that's it, honey. Now swing your hips
around. No, your HIPS." She leaned forward in her seat. "Just
move your pelvis, like in a circle. Just your hips"
	Grace couldn't seem to move the way she wanted.
	"You're moving your whole lower back. Just shift your hips
around by themselves," Kelly instructed. "Pretend like you're
givin' it to your girlfriend."
	" ... or boyfriend," Kristen suggested from off to the side.
	"Uh-uh, Kristy! There's no way he's a Top!" Kelly shot back. The
girls all had a fit of giggles over this. It even got a smile
from Kristen.
	Grace turned a new shade of red and kept dancing as best he
could. To his relief, Amber called it halfway through.
	"This is getting too painful to watch. 'A' for effort Grace, but
we need to get you some classes or something." Over protests, she
continued, "I judge the dancing request to have been satisfied!
Next request!"
	"Get it hard!" Kelly whined. "We need to measure it."
	Grace glanced to Amber, who was once again focused on her phone.
"Go on, Grace," she prodded, without looking up. "You didn't have
any trouble this morning." Giggles erupted again.
	Grace began to rub himself, but even after a long minute there
was no response. The irony wasn't lost on him when Amber gave him
his second strike. He had thought he was so clever. Now, he was
going to strike out because he couldn't get a boner. He would
have gone through all this humiliation for nothing. Hot tears
began to blur his vision.
	"Better stop crying, Grace," Amber warned him. "I just got a
text that Matt and Brian are coming over. You don't want the boys
to see you crying, do you?"
	He had thought things couldn't get any worse! Amber's boyfriend
Brian, and Serena's friend Matt: he had classes with both of
them. He would see them every day for at least the rest of the
year. Christ! Matt was his lab partner, wasn't he? Was that the
same Matt? He couldn't remember; he was too panicked. If both
those guys were about to see a naked dancing Grace, how would he
ever show his face in school again?
	That was what it took. Kelly squealed with delight as he began
to rise. He got hard fast, bobbing up with each pounding
heartbeat. "Oh. My. God. It likes BOYS!" Kelly laughed with a
hint of accusation.
	"No! I'm just--"
	"It's OK, honey," Serena insisted gently. "This is a safe place.
We won't tell anybody. How long have you known you were gay?"
	"I'm not gay," he tried again, "it's just that sometimes ... uh,
sometimes it ... uh ..." He trailed off, silenced by the sinking
realization that he had no way at all to explain himself. HE knew
that he was attracted to girls and not guys. But his rock-hard
cock wasn't much of an alibi.
	"I understand," Serena assured him. Her gentleness stood in
sharp contrast to Kelly's brash aggression. "You know Grace,
there are a lot of guys who don't really start to figure out
their sexuality until they're your age ... sometimes even older.
Matt's a senior and he just came out to me last summer. He's
keeping it quiet though, so don't tell him I told you, OK?"
	She brightened.  "How cool that he's coming over though! I'll
talk to him alone when he gets here and maybe he'll want to talk
to you. It would be so great for you two to support each other!"
	"They'll do SOMETHING to each other," Kelly said throatily. A
giggle swept the couch again, but Amber hushed them.
	"Relax, Kelly," she chided. "They're not actually coming over.
Not tonight. I was testing out a theory, and I was proven
correct."
	Grace's relief hardly registered through the storm of emotions
that crowded him. Glad as he was that no one else was going to
witness his humiliation, he was still confused; ashamed.
	And he was undeniably aroused. That bothered him most of all.
	"He wasn't even out to YOU, Amber?" Serena looked at Grace with
sympathy. "Oh sweetie ...  what a way to come out, huh? This must
be embarrassing for you."
	No shit.
	"Grace, honey, I don't want to push you into anything," she
continued softly, "but it's very important at this stage that you
have a good support network. I really think we should get you
together with Matt sometime soon"
	"Give it a rest," Amber told her friend. "Grace will get a male
perspective soon enough. And I never said he was gay in the first
place."
	"No, but his dick did," Kelly chortled.
	Serena turned away from Grace to cast a questioning look at
Amber. "Didn't you just say your theory was correct?"
	"That wasn't what I was testing."
	"What-EVER, Doctor Watson!" Kelly sighed impatiently. "I do
believe the boy is still taking requests, and he's on mine. Jerk
it a little - I want it to be as plump as it can be for the
measurement."
	Eyes glued to the floor, resigned to his fate, Grace stroked
himself slowly, to the encouragement of the girls. Tears still
hung in his eyes, reluctant to drop, but refusing to dry up
either. It was so confusing: not thirty seconds ago, Serena was
being SO nice to him. Why wasn't she sticking up for him now?
	"OK. Stop!" Kelly ordered after an intolerably long minute. She
jumped up and ran past Grace into the sewing room. After a long
moment she came back with a tape measure. "Hold still." She used
her thumb to pin the tape against his body, just above the shaft.
Then she laid it out along the top of his penis, wrapping it
under the tip and pinching gently. A thrill shot through his
groin.
	"Damn! Six and a half!" Kelly pulled the tape away before giving
the head a playful swat and making Grace jump. "When you're
right, you're right, Amber. What can I say?"
	"You can say that you didn't just rub my stepmother's tape
measure all over that dirty cock," Amber replied coldly.
 	"It's not dirty!" Kelly protested with mock indignation. She
ran her fingertips ever-so-lightly across his shaft and brought
her mouth so close to his ear he could feel her breath. "it's
adorable."
	"Just go put the tape measure back. It's Kristen's turn to make
a request."
	"Suck my toes." The words came without a moment's hesitation.
 	They all looked at Kristen with surprise. She was so quiet, it
was easy to forget about her sometimes. Clearly, she had been
eagerly waiting her turn.
	"I want him to suck on my toes. And lick them."
	Kelly turned to give her friend a playful shove. "Damn, girl!
You know what you want!" Kristen didn't acknowledge; her eyes
were fixed on Grace.
	Amber, still mostly focused on her phone, nonetheless continued
to play MC.  "OK, Grace, you heard the lady. Get to it!"
	He couldn't bear to meet Kristen's gaze. At some point, she had
taken off her shoes. Now she stripped her socks off as well. Her
feet were ... actually quite lovely. Surprising, considering that
Kristen from the ankles-up was always pretty unkempt.
	Slender and delicate with perfectly shaped nails. Her pale skin
contrasted by the dark purple nail polish.
	It occurred to Grace that this was the last request. After
Kristen, he would be done; he could put this behind him. And as
his knelt down in front of her, he decided that this one wasn't
going to be bad at all. Her feet smelled a little bit, but not
like he expected; not really bad. And they looked soft, and cute,
and inviting.
	Grace waited for Kristen to lift them up. But all she did was
wiggle her toes; still planted firmly on the carpet.
	"Suck 'em," she whispered. Clearly, she wanted Grace as low as
he could get. He bent down to her feet; chin on the carpet, knees
under chest - like a dog in a play bow. He took a deep breath,
then popped her big toe into his mouth. It tasted ... like
nothing, really. Maybe a hint of soap; that was it. Was he
disappointed?
	"Pretend it's Matt's cock," Kelly suggested gleefully.
	He tried to ignore her and focus on getting this last request
done. He thought about what might feel good for Kristen, and
sucked a little bit. Then he swirled his tongue around in a
circle. He moved it back and forth on the underside of the toe.
He shifted over and took a couple of its neighbors in. Keeping to
the same strategy, he sucked a little and then ran his tongue
around in circles. He heard Kristen sigh. So far so good.
	Grace figured that if he licked TOO lightly, it would just
tickle her, and he had visions of getting kicked in the face. So
he planted his tongue firmly on the top of Kristen's toes and
dragged it back and forth, slipping it between them every so
often. He heard another sigh, with a little hint of a moan in the
middle. He kept going. She kept the foot he was working on
planted, but the other one brushed his cheek; rubbed the top of
his head before dipping back down. He switched to that foot,
repeating his treatment of the toes, but taking the opportunity
to lick the soles too.
	Grace felt a strange swelling of pride. When he had been trying
to dance for them, he'd had no idea what to do with himself. But
now there was an unexpected confidence. He was filled with ideas
- things to try with his tongue; combinations of licking and
sucking he thought she might like. It all came so naturally.
	Hell of a thing to be good at.
	As much as he tried to ignore Kelly's suggestion, it kept
popping back into his mind as he worked on Kristen's feet. Is
this what sucking a cock was like? Obviously there would be ...
more to it. How would you go about it? Kristen's toes felt a lot
bigger in his mouth than they had looked on the floor. Her big
toe didn't leave much room for him to maneuver his tongue without
scraping her with his teeth. What would he do with an erect
penis? He supposed there was some skill involved, then banished
the line of thought once again, embarrassed for having given it
so much consideration.
	It was several long minutes before anyone spoke. When the
silence was broken, the room had lost its jocular mood.
	"How is that feelin', Kristy?" Kelly asked softly.
	"Mm. Good."
	"He's really goin' to town with that tongue, isn't he?"
	"Mm. Yeah."
	"I think your brother has some experience, Amber," Kelly said.
"I bet he's found himself a boy to practice with. Look at him
sucking away - like a pro!"
	Grace fought down the urge to protest. He was so close to being
done with this nightmare, and he didn't have any more strikes to
spare. He kept his mouth on Kristen's foot. Lick, swirl, suck.
	Amber chuckled, "I don't think so, Kelly. Grace is as virgin as
they come."
	"How do you know?" Kelly demanded. "I bet this shyness is a big
act. He's probably a veteran cocksucker."
	"Trust me. I know." At least Amber was in his corner. Yet Grace
had a sinking fear that this line of conversation was leading to
something. Kelly's words almost sounded like a script.
	There was another long pause. He kept going. Lick, swirl, suck.
Kristen still had her foot planted on the ground, and his back
was starting to ache from the odd position he was in.
	"I know how to settle it. Last request is: don't move," Kelly
declared.
	He heard a shuffle of activity. Kristen pulled her foot away,
but Grace didn't dare lift up. He stayed bowed to the floor, face
in the carpet. Someone knelt down next to him - Kelly. Her hand
went to his face, and an index finger wormed its way into his
mouth. He didn't even balk. At this point, it was par for the
course. Grace sucked on her finger while Kelly rubbed his back
with her free hand. It felt good.
	Grace had no idea what was coming until Kelly popped her finger
out and said, "Let's see who's been in here..." As she pushed
into him, she leaned down across his back to effectively pin him
in position. It was probably for the best, because he couldn't
fight the instinct to sit up, and if he had Amber probably would
have called his last strike. As it was, he struggled meekly
against Kelly's weight to no effect. Once again, he could feel
her breath in his ear.
	"Oh my," she crooned. The loud, brassy Kelly was gone. This one
spoke just above a whisper. "Oh but he is TIGHT."
	The feeling of invasion was profound. Grace had the urgent
sensation of pooping, but nothing was coming out; something was
going IN. It felt so wrong. Kelly pushed slowly but steadily, not
stopping until she was buried all the way. She held her finger in
him motionless for a moment, his sphincter squeezing in spasms.
Then she slowly withdrew. Once again that urgent pooping
sensation returned. For an instant, Grace was sure that he HAD
pooped, but then her finger reversed and went back inside. He let
out a moan despite himself.
	"My instincts are all wrong tonight, Amber." Kelly still spoke
into Grace's ear. "Nobody has been in here. This is a cherry
hole." She pulled out, then pushed in a third time. This time,
she twisted her finger around, then started wiggling it. She
snaked a wet tongue into his ear. Grace moaned again, and this
time Kelly moaned with him, softly.
	All at once he understood rape. He understood the horror of
losing that last sanctum: one's own body. He understood Violation
like he never thought possible. Something was moving around
inside him and he was just a passive observer.
	"And I think we all agreed that this boy is no Top, right
girls?" she continued without moving her mouth from his ear. She
traced the outer fold with her tongue. "Cearly I was wrong. He
really is single. 'Cause no boyfriend would be content to just
let Gracie suck his cock. He would HAVE to have this lovely
little asshole."
	Suddenly, he felt more pressure back there, to the point of
pain. He let a grunt slip out, and it almost turned into a
squeal.
	"Look at this!" Kelly finally lifted her head to address the
group. "I can't even get two fingers in there!"
	"That's because he's all curled up with his legs together," he
heard a voice say. "Flip him over so you can spread him out." Was
that Serena's voice? Why was she still going along with this?
She'd been so NICE.
	Grace felt the weight leave his back, and gentle but insistent
hands pushed up on his belly and shoulders.
	"On your back, sweetheart," Kelly insisted. Serena and Kristen
both echoed her:
	"On your back."
	"Flip over."
	The nightmare continued. He was drowning in strangeness. Things
had taken a sudden, serious turn, and all at once the girls
seemed to be of single mind. He sat up and found them crowding
around. Impatient hands came in from all sides to push him down
again. He looked up, searching their faces desperately. Amber's
motley collection of friends didn't seem so different from each
other anymore. The cheerleader, the nerd, the gentle actress, the
wild party girl - they all wore the same glazed, hungry
expression. 	
	Then he was flat on his back, head against the base of the couch
between Kristen's feet. He didn't know why. Reason was scarce in
this nightmare. Real-life Grace would have walked back upstairs
as soon as Amber started talking about those fruity "rules";
would have given his mom the full story and taken his chances.
Real-life Grace would have slapped Kelly into next week when she
tried to put her finger in his butt; would have told all four of
them to go fuck themselves - he hadn't done anything wrong, and
he didn't deserve to be humiliated like this.
	But Grace was deep in the nightmare, looking up at three hungry
girls. Kelly scooted down between his legs. She dragged him
forwards with surprising strength, pulling him out from the couch
a few feet. Then she put her hands under his knees and lifted his
legs over his head. The LIFT turned into a PUSH, and, without any
prompting, Kristen put her feet down on the backs of his knees,
pinning them next to his ears. He had always been pretty
flexible.
	"Amber?" he called pitifully. He couldn't see her.
	"Be good, Grace. You don't want a third strike do you?" her
voice drifted from the far side of the couch with cool
disinterest.
	He couldn't see Kristen anymore; but her feet pinned him firmly.
Serena kneeled over him on the right, her long golden hair
tickling his nose. "You're loving all this attention, aren't you,
sweetie?"
	Clearly he wasn't. Why couldn't she see that? And why couldn't
he tell her? Why did he just stare at her like an idiot?
	Kelly appeared in front of him, and Grace felt a poke, then a
STRETCH as she added one finger to the other. She kept adding
pressure, but the fingers weren't moving. When she gave a sudden
shove, they went in a little more, but the SCRAPE along his
sensitive rectum made him cry out.
	"Stop CLENCHING, Grace!" Kelly admonished, giving him a hard
slap on the ass. "You're making this too hard. Although I could
probably use more lube..."
	For a moment, he was sure Kelly was going to force those fingers
into his mouth. Instead, she looked up and said, "Amber, gimme
some of your Nivea."
	"No. I'm not using my expensive lotion on his dirty asshole.
Besides, you proved he's a virgin already. Let him up."
	All at once, Amber was Grace's favorite person in the world.
	But Kelly countered, "I wanna get him off. He's been such a good
sport with us, he deserves SOMETHING, doesn't he?"
	"I guess that's only fair," Amber replied dispassionately.
	"Here." Serena's face disappeared. "I have some lotion."
	By the time Serena was back in position, Grace felt Kelly's
fingers again; this time cold and smooth. She rubbed the lotion
all around the rim of his hole before inserting a finger. That
one finger went in a few more times -- carrying more lotion with
it, he imagined.  	
	Kelly added her second finger again. It wasn't too painful this
time, although the stretching sensation was pretty intense.
	But in this position, he found, the shame was magnified. When
he'd been on his knees, there had been fingers in his ass. Now,
it was KELLY who was inside him. Seeing her face made it so much
worse. He closed his eyes.
	"Uh uh! Look at me. You gotta look at me!"
	She might be able to violate him like this, Grace decided, but
he could damn well keep his eyes closed. Yet they flew open with
shock when she reached down and pinched his nipple - hard.
	"That's it. Show me those pretty green eyes," she whispered.
	Kelly burned with joyful concentration. She mirrored his
expressions - raising her eyebrows and forming her mouth into an
'O' as she dug both fingers all the way in.
	"I have my own theory, Professor Amber," Kelly said, raising her
voice for her friend's benefit. "I heard that if a guy can come
from just ass-play, it means he's gay. Only straight guys need
contact on their dicks."
	There was a grumble of disagreement all around.
	"Well, it's a THEORY," Kelly said defensively. "Let's see if I
prove my theory."
	Grace felt a touch on his nipple again - softer. This time it
was Serena. Her fingers were wet with lotion, gliding back and
forth. She leaned in to get at his left nipple too. The sympathy
he had seen on her face before might as well have never existed.
Now she was looking down at a specimen.
	Those hands did feel good though.
	He looked back to Kelly as she started wiggling deep inside him.
"Are you gonna come for me honey?"
	Grace managed a petulant "N-no."
	She was amused. "Oh come on... just imagine that it's Matt
pushing inside you."
	The fingers pulled almost all the way out. Then she pushed all
the way in again, faster than before, and said, "Just imagine
draping your little legs on his nice strong shoulders to let him
get nice and deep. His cock is probably about as wide as my
fingers ... but remember: it's wide in ALL directions."
	She twisted back and forth to emphasize her last two words.
Grace lurched, but Kristen's feet held him firm.
	"Of course, he can go much deeper than I can. He can reach all
those special spots inside you that are just crying out for a
good hard dick."
	Kelly started that WIGGLE again, tickling a spot behind his
balls. Grace felt a warmth spreading from that spot - a deep-down
excitement. She pulled out, plunged in, and this time she twisted
to tickled the other side.
	She worked up a rhythm: plunge a few times, twist, then tickle.
Her eyes never left his; searching him with an eager curiosity.
She was not disappointed. He couldn't hide his growing
excitement. Each time she stopped tickling and pulled out of him,
he missed those fingers just a little more. There was a growing
ache below his belly -- the most pleasant ache he had ever felt.
	"Look how HARD he is," Serena whispered with a touch of awe, as
though she was afraid of scaring away his erection. Her fingers
had never stopped sliding over his nipples. Now they started to
gently pinch.
	"I know," Kelly replied. "He just can't wait to get a real man
inside him, can he? Oh, Grace, I wish I could see your first
time. It's gonna be sooo sexy."
	Plunge. Wiggle.
	"Serena, is Matt a Top?"
	"Um, I don't know. He seems like he would be. I don't think he's
been with anybody though."
	"Ohmygod," Kelly said with delight, fingers momentarily still.
"That's so much better, don't you think? The two of them
exploring another man's body for the first time?"
	Her fingers resumed their work, faster than ever.
	"I would LOVE to see his thick cock claiming this little hole.
Plunging in balls deep. Shooting a big hot load of sticky come
way inside of little Gracie."
	He felt a familiar tightness. He'd never hated himself more.
There was no question; he was going to come again. What was his
problem? His body seemed intent of betraying him every chance it
got. He wasn't into this! He wasn't gay! Why was it getting to
him? What was WRONG with him; that the things that most repelled
him were the things that most excited him?
	"Would you like that Grace?" she continued, "Feeling Matt's come
deep inside you?" Kelly seemed to be waiting for an answer, but
Grace didn't give one. He was focused on tightening the muscles
around his dick and balls; hoping to prevent the inevitable.
	"Or maybe," she said with a smirk, "you'd want to have a taste
instead? Is that it? Swallow some of that gooey juice? Too bad
Matt and Ben didn't make it tonight. You could have had both at
once!"
	Grace was quickly losing the battle. He felt his balls starting
to spasm. He was suddenly aware that he was pointed at his face.
	"Who are you texting, Amber?" Kristen spoke for the first time
in what seemed like eons.
	"I'm not texting, silly. I'm getting some prime video."
	"What?!" Grace managed. Now he saw Amber's face appear over him,
glowing with satisfaction.
	"Teaching you obedience was the side-benefit of this exercise,
darling," she explained slowly. "The main purpose was to get some
solid leverage material. Random pictures of a computer monitor -
pretty weak sauce, don't you think?"
	"Wha-" was all could managed again before Kelly plunged in and
started tickling that special spot double-time.
	"Speaking of sauce," she giggled. Then she leaned down all the
way, putting uncomfortable pressure on Grace's legs. Her lips
connected with his, and her tongue shoved its way into his mouth.
His cry of pain was muffled when she reached down and FLICKED his
right nipple. With that, everything let go. He bucked wildly as
he came. He heard the girls cheer, like they were celebrating a
touchdown. Kelly quickly sat up to escape the stream, but this
was his third orgasm of the day, so there wasn't a lot left. Even
so, he felt a hot wetness on his cheek, chin, and forehead.
	Kelly pulled out of him, and Kristen let up the pressure behind
his knees. He was slow getting to his feet. His legs were weak.
	"OK. I'm satisfied," Kelly announced. "I've never seen anything
more adorable than that 'O' face. Can I keep him, Amber?" she
whined playfully.
	"No," Amber said seriously. "And we're done with Grace for
tonight. Gracie, go on upstairs."
	He didn't hesitate. Leaving his ruined pants, Grace ran out of
the room to groans of disappointment. As he took the stairs, the
tears finally began to flow. He didn't bother to turn on the
light in his room, burrowing under his covers and letting the
sobs run their course.
	What was he? Was he really gay? Was Kelly right? He'd never
liked looking at guys. Girls had always caught his eye in the
hallways. It was feminine curves that excited him, not masculine
ones. But then why did he get hard when he thought about those
guys? Why had Kelly's disgusting suggestions been so exciting?
 	His inner voice insisted that all those questions were besides
the point. The real thing to ask: why had he let himself be
turned into a simpering little toy? He wanted desperately to
blame Amber and her friends, but he knew that nobody had forced
him into anything. Amber was right: those pictures WERE weak
sauce. Maybe, deep down, he'd wanted those girls to treat him
like a piece of meat.
	But if THAT were true, why couldn't he stop crying?
	Grace didn't how long it was before his bedroom door creaked
open. He  must have slept - the spots of light on his floor,
filtered through his shades from the streetlamp, had crawled
their way from the dresser to the closet.
	Amber laid down behind him silently. She snuggled close;
spooning him through his blankets.
	"I'm not gay," he said miserably.
	"Shh. I know, sweetie, I know." She ran her fingers through his
hair with a disarming tenderness; he was too exhausted to
protest, and it was actually kind of soothing. "And I want to
tell you how proud you made me tonight. I forgive you for
yesterday. Let's put that behind us, hm?"	
	His mind couldn't seem to change tracks: "But it's just than
when Kelly-"
	"Kelly doesn't know you like I do," she interrupted. "It doesn't
make sense. How could you be gay? You've spent so much time
sneaking looks at me - in my swimsuit; in my underwear; in a
towel."
	"But I-"
	"Shh," she whispered into his ear. Her hot breath reminded him
of Kelly's. "I know what you are, and I'm going to help you on
your journey. You're a woman, Grace."
	"What?!" He struggled to sit up. With Amber's weight on the
covers, he had to roll to the other side of the bed to free
himself.
	"Shhh! It's the only thing that makes sense, isn't it?" She
moved over to sit next to him. "I used to tease you about
checking me out because I knew there was an attraction there,
Grace. Yeah, I overdid it, just to have fun. But don't deny
there's an attraction."
	He couldn't.
	"But it wasn't until tonight," she continued, "that I realized
the SOURCE. You were looking at me with jealousy, not lust. You
don't want my body for sex, you want it for EXISTING."
	This was getting really weird. Grace decided to level with her.
	"Amber, I know it's strange, but I have this ... thing. Like,
when I get embarrassed, I get ... hard." His voice dropped as he
forced out his confession. It was horrible to have to say it, but
once the words were out, he felt a little better. "So, before, it
wasn't like a sex thing, I was just super embarrassed and--"
	"Grace," she cut him off again, this time with a sickly-sweet
patronizing tone. "Sometimes we can't see things when we're too
close to them, right? Isn't that why people talk to therapists?
Therapists aren't magical; they're just a way of getting an
informed, outside opinion - a different point of view."
	She swiveled to sit cross-legged on the bed, facing him, then
reached up and grasped his head on either side.
	"Well I'm here, with an informed, outside viewpoint, TELLING you
that you are gender-confused. You're a woman in a man's body. No
wonder you snapped at me the other day. I can only imagine how
frustrating it must be. Society has conditioned you your whole
life to think you're a man, but that's not RIGHT, is it Grace?
You're not an awkward, skinny, gangly boy. You're a beautiful,
beautiful girl - with a body for a prison."
	Looking up at him, in the shadows, was an Amber he had never
seen before. She was warm, empathetic, serious - she was REAL.
Amber was finally being the kind of stepsister Grace had wanted
so badly the past four years. Unbidden, the tears came again. He
hoped the darkness would hide them, but Amber saw. When she
pulled him in for a hug, he started crying even harder.
	"Why CAN'T I just be an awkward guy, Amber?" he sniffled.
	Her fingers returned to stroking his hair. "Well, you could,
sweetie, if that were the truth. But we know different. Your
truth is going to be harder, but you'll be so much happier in the
end. And I'm going to help you every step of the way; I promise."
	In retrospect, he really should have pressed his point. But
after everything that had happened that day, Grace felt so ...
raw. He had nothing left. Now that he was finally getting
affection from Amber, he realized how desperately he had needed
it. He had no father. His mother had always been cold with him.
Sitting in his stepsister's arms, feeling so safe and loved - it
was so very good, and he was afraid that he'd break the spell by
saying anything at all.
	They sat that way for a long time until she kissed him on the
cheek and closed the door softly behind her. Drifting off to
sleep, Grace hadn't he slightest clue how much his life was about
to change. In three months, it would be unrecognizable.


To Be Continued in Chapter 2 - In Which Grace is Prepared for New
Challenges
	
The author welcomes feedback of all kinds. This is his first
story EVER, and he can't wait to hear from you.
Please email: BrokenCompass6626@gmail.com	
	
	
	

  
GraceSaved1