In case I give this diary to someone who doesn't know me that well, I'll describe myself. I'm 17, 6'4" and 205 pounds. I have completely straight brown hair (that my mom calls "chestnut-colored") that I've worn at different lengths over the years, but now it's cut to hang to just above my eyebrows. I wear size 14 shoes, which is a real pain since most stores only stock up to 12 or 13. I also have really large hands, so I can actually palm a basketball.

On the personal front, since my dad died in a car accident when I was 8, I've had to be the "man of the family", helping mom run the house and raise my younger brother Joey. He's not as gifted as I am in certain things, so I've tried to set an example for him. When he was really young, he looked up to me a great deal, but when he entered his teens, he seemed to get more surly and assertive. Oh well, I guess it's a natural stage of development, and I hope it's over soon.

I have a great girlfriend, Jenny Parker. She's blond and on the tall side, and she and I have been together since the seventh grade, and I guess you could say we "complete" each other. Not only is she great-looking, but she's extremely smart, and she and I usually understand each other with very few words. We haven't done anything sexually, though, beyond kissing. We're the perfect example of high-school sweethearts that sometimes successfully get and stay married, but we haven't really thought about that yet since we don't know exactly where we'll be next year.

This is of course the last year I'll be living in my home town, since it's far away from the colleges I'll be applying to. I'm not sure where I'm headed, but it will probably come down to a choice for me of Yale in the east or Stanford in the west. I mean, there's no sure thing, of course, but I don't see what more I can do to improve my chances of admission. My school has a statewide reputation of being tough academically, and usually the first dozen or so out of our graduating class of 350 have pretty much their pick of schools, provided they have tended to their extracurricular and community activities, which I've done.

I'm at the top of my class academically. I seem to have an aptitude for both the sciences and humanities, and I haven't really favored one over the other, which is making it harder for me to choose a college. I'm also captain of the football team, which has been doing unexpectedly well this year. In our second game, we beat last year's state champion school, which surprised everyone, even us. I guess we were just more determined than we'd ever been. Of course, going into the game, we'd convinced ourselves we could do it, even though deep down reason told us otherwise.

I'm headed downstairs for breakfast, where I can hear my younger brother Joey already slurping his cereal. My brother is a bit of a slacker. He's 15 and a sophomore, but he doesn't get nearly the grades that I do. While I'm quite muscular (I take after our father's side of the family), he's more the lean wiry type, like mom's male relatives. He's never been too interested in athletics, and spends a lot more time hanging with his friends than on his homework. Since I accidentally walked in on him in the shower recently, I know he also doesn't take after dad's side of the family in another way: he is only about 6 inches soft. When I was his age, I was already a bit over 7 inches soft, and I still had some growing to do. Also, my chest hair was already filling in at that time, while his chest is still completely hairless. He's never been as far along as I was at any age. It must be tough being my brother, being compared to me, expected to live up to what I've done.

I was elected class president last week. It was kind of expected, since I had been president in all three previous years of school. I have sometimes been able to use the position to make a difference in life at the school, and I feel really good about that. In the election, my best friend on the football team, Chris Parker, Jenny's twin brother, came in second, with about 20% of the votes. He didn't really run very hard, just said he thought it would be better if I had SOME competition, and he's probably right. I mean it shouldn't be like a coronation or something. Chris is also ranked second in our class academically, although there's a bit of a gap between him and me. I don't think he'll be giving me competition for the valedictorian spot at the end of the year. I know it's a long time from now, and it's a bit silly to think about in September, but I'm already mulling about what to put in to make the best possible speech that the class will remember long after they've left school.

Two afternoons a week, I tutor a class of the slower kids in several subjects. It makes me feel good to help, and it won't hurt on my college applications. I've put in extra time with one of them, a junior named Drew. He was on the football team, but got kicked off for low grades. Although he's a year younger, he's physically even bigger than I am, and since he's good looking and charming and sure of himself, he's popular and has no trouble with the ladies, but he doesn't take academics seriously at all. I'm trying to get him interested in at least one or two subjects to get his grades above what he needs to get back on the team. Sometimes I get him interested briefly in what I'm going over, but then the big goof lets his hair drop over his eyes and puts on a big silly grin, and I know I have to go back a few steps to get him on track again.

One evening a week, I also help out underprivileged kids at the local police youth league. I coach their football and basketball teams. It feels really good to serve as a role model for kids that don't really have one at home. They're ages 13 to 15, a variety of races, physical types, and attitudes, which means I have to work with them one-on-one as much as I help them as teams. I think the key to gaining their trust is to win over Darryl, the oldest of the group. He's black, just turned 15, and is the tallest of the bunch at 6'3", but his upper body hasn't finished filling out yet, so I have him working on it. He also has a juvenile record and had the most arrogant attitude coming into the program, but I think I've begun to win his respect. I'm helping him with working out, and with a progression of weights.

Well, that should give you a good idea of my life. Everything seems to be going according to plan so far this year. The only thing out of the ordinary that has happened lately is that the first few nights of this week, my dinner had an unusual undertaste. I couldn't quite make it out, but it was definitely there. I thought I might be getting sick or something, but as the days went by I noticed it less and less, and maybe it was my imagination all along. Also, while I'm usually a heavy sleeper, in the middle of last night I woke up somewhat, and thought I felt something tight around my ears, but when I got up the next morning, there was nothing. I guess the pressure of having to excel in my final year of high school may be getting to me a bit. September 30

My week ended on a sour note. I usually ace every assignment, but I somehow overlooked an English paper that was due. I've never done that in my whole school career! Oh well, I'm sure I'll make up for it in the next few weeks.

Also, maybe something hormonal is going on. The last few days, I've been having weird thoughts, ones I don't even want to record here. They occur everywhere -- at breakfast, at school, at football practice, even at the police youth league session. And they cause me a particular physical problem. You see, when you're on the big side, it's almost impossible to hide a hard-on. Unless you're wearing really baggy pants, and I don't dress that way, there's just no place for it to go. I have to carry my books more strategically than usual. It can be real embarrassing when people notice. October 7

The strange hormonal thing I've had going on is now happening almost continuously. It's causing me moments of distraction as my eye wanders the room, looking at people's shoes for some reason. I notice the size and condition of guys' running shoes and sneakers, I notice who's not wearing socks, and so on. It only lasts moments at a time, so it hasn't affected my school work, really. But why am I thinking about this, and why the heck is it making me hard? I'm not just "competitively" comparing, am I? Anyway, no other guy I come across regularly in school comes close to my size 14 shoes, except Chris my football buddy who wears size 13s, and Drew, the guy I tutor, who wears 16s and rarely wears socks. October 14

I don't know what's been happening to me lately. I've been losing concentration in my classes, and that's never happened before. The time I spend staring at shoes has increased; by now, I could tell you the shoe size of almost anyone in any of my classes. Plus I now find myself daydreaming about the oddest things. I can coast somewhat on what I know, but my grades are slipping. Mr. Goodman, the faculty advisor to the tutored group, has suggested that I step aside from my tutoring job while I recover my concentration.

The lack of focus has also carried over to football. I can't seem to remember some of the more complicated plays, and I screwed up at least twice in last Friday's game. Coach has temporarily made Chris Parker the starter, and has assigned me some extra practice time to get back to my previous good form. As the team leader, I don't want to hurt the team's chances of a good ranking in the state this year, so I'm fine with that.

Jenny wanted to come over to the house this evening, but I was feeling a bit dazed and didn't want to make her uncomfortable, so I begged off. Several times in the last week I've kind of avoided her at school, and I'm not sure why. I'm just not feeling like myself lately and I don't want to do anything that might hurt our relationship, like acting weird. Until I feel better, I don't completely trust myself. October 21

Something very weird happened after football practice yesterday. Chris finished taking off his uniform just as I got into the locker room, and headed for the shower, leaving his sweaty clothes on the bench in front of his locker. For some reason, I stared, fascinated, at his used jock strap on the bench. When everyone had gone to the shower and I was alone on the bench, I reached over and grabbed the jock, and impulsively put it to my nose. I was overcome by the incredibly rich aroma of Chris' crotch sweat, and my tongue darted out to see if it tasted as good as it smelled. I thought of Chris: blond-haired, blue-eyed, taller than me at 6'5", well toned but not as powerfully built as I am, totally smooth creamy skin, and I got hard. Real hard. Suddenly, I looked up and I wasn't alone anymore. Chris had come back from the shower, and was looking at me oddly. He grabbed his jock out of my hand. I was hugely humiliated, but there was no hiding my thoughts: my immense boner told him everything. He didn't say anything, but his expression changed to a smirk, and he walked away. I hoped he wouldn't tell anyone, but how can he look up to me as team captain after he's seen me do that?

Come to think of it, in recent days I've been having to change quickly and take really short showers, because I seem to have nearly constant hardons when I'm with the team and naturally I don't want them to see it. Just turning to one side doesn't help when you're as big as I am. I have no idea why this is happening -- I'm not gay or anything -- but I'm totally unable to discuss it with anyone at school or with my mom at home. Why should I worry her? October 28

I notice I've been dressing differently these days. Instead of my usual clothes, I've been wearing tight shirts with the top several buttons unbuttoned, and the size 30 pants I wore years ago (even though I'm now size 32). Why I'm doing this I have no idea, I just notice it when I get to school. The tight pants are causing me even more "exposure" embarrassment than I was going through before. I've got to stop this. People are staring and talking when I walk by, more openly now than in previous weeks.

The academic situation is getting worse. In one class I sit behind Chris, and during a midterm exam, somehow I spent the whole period running my eyes up and down his body, thinking about what each part of him might smell like, might taste like. As I imagined my nose buried in his rich blond hair, the bell rang and the exam was over. I hadn't answered a single question.

Ms. Harris noticed my blank paper when she collected the exams, and told me to wait while the class left. She then sat down next to me and asked me what was wrong. I couldn't tell her the truth, it was too humiliating, so I just told her I had had difficulty concentrating lately. She said she had noticed my work deteriorating rapidly over the past few weeks, and suggested I have a doctor look at me. She also suggested that I could maybe benefit from a few afternoons in the remedial class, to catch up on some of the material I had not absorbed. This was of course the same class I used to tutor, and even one of the subjects in which I had provided extra help to that big goofy junior, Drew. As the thought of Drew crossed my mind, I felt a stiffening in my pants. Where did THAT come from?

I noticed one other thing. I've always been attracted to Ms. Harris, a cute brunette who looks much younger than her late twenty-something years, but now I felt not even the slightest attraction. I thought that maybe it was the shame of the particular situation that kept me from feeling interested, but it sure didn't stop me from getting hard when I thought of Drew in the tutored class. What's happening to me?

Of course with my current academic situation, I'll be suspended from the football team. Yet oddly when I think about that, my main disappointment involves not being in the locker room or showers with the guys. I'm guessing THEY won't be that disappointed, since I wasn't always 100% successful at hiding my almost continuous hardons in there, and it clearly made them uncomfortable. November 4

In school today, as I rounded a corner, I saw my little brother in an intense conversation with Jenny at her locker. Before I got down the hall, though, she had left for a class. It was odd; I've never seen those two together at school. I had a really bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I wanted to chase after her and apologize for not having talked to her lately, but I suddenly realized I didn't want to talk to her at all. Had Chris, her twin, told her about the locker room incident?

In the remedial class, I had a hard time getting my mind around some math problems. Drew actually helped me with a few of them. It was a bit embarrassing to have someone I helped now helping me, but it was REALLY humiliating when I realized I was getting excited by being near him. I had to shift my notebook several times to keep him from seeing it. But to me, instead of seeming to be the year-younger big goof I used to help, he now seemed to be not only bigger than I am, but smarter also, more sure of himself, more significant. I looked up to him a bit, and felt gratitude that he had reached out to help me. Strangest of all, when his hair flopped over his eyes as usual, it took all my self-control not to reach out and brush his hair aside so I could look into his eyes. Wait a minute, this guy used to look up to me, and now I was feeling respect for -- and maybe even a touch of LUST for -- him?

Since I've been suspended from the football team, I've had to take phys ed since last Thursday. That day, as I began to change in the locker room, I discovered I had forgotten to put on underwear. Between that and the tight pants my problem hiding hardons has gotten even worse. And I discovered I get just as hard in the presence of the more "geeky" types in phys ed as I did in the football locker room. I'm shocked to find myself admiring the looks, the smoothness, the masculinity of a skinny freshman even more than I did some of my football teammates. I slip into daydreams about some of these guys before I even notice it. I hope none of them ever finds out what I'm thinking about them.

Both Friday and today I discovered the same thing: Each day after phys ed, I was determined to make sure that the next day I would wear underwear and looser fitting pants. But each next day at school I discovered I was again wearing the tight pants without underwear. Why can't I remember to dress right in the morning?

Jenny came by our house with her little brother Paul this evening. I was surprised to see her, since she hadn't called me -- in fact, we haven't spoken much lately -- but the two of them were actually there to see my brother Joey. I wondered if it had anything to do with the conversation I saw Jenny and Joey having at school. They went into Joey's room and seemed to be in an animated conversation, but I couldn't hear what they were saying. On her way in, Jenny was polite but distant with me, and I was too embarrassed by the possibility that she might know about my locker room incident with Chris to try to engage her in any deeper conversation. November 11

This morning my brother came to the table shirtless for some reason. I don't know why, but I kept stealing glances at his smooth, toned chest and I noticed I was licking my lips. It was a real shock because I've never thought of Joey in a sexual way before. I sure hope he didn't notice. He seemed like such a commanding presence sitting there, while I felt overgrown and freakish. When he just suggested out of the blue that I take off my shirt too, I did it without even thinking. I didn't really want to do it, but when he said it, it seemed like just a natural thing to do. Mom didn't seem to notice anything unusual about the whole situation; she just smiled and kept working around the kitchen.

I can't even begin to explain what happened this afternoon. While I was at Southwoods Mall, I shoplifted a leather jacket and got caught. I have absolutely no idea why I did it; I already have several jackets much nicer than the one I took. It's as if I had no control over my actions; I just grabbed the jacket and ran to the exit, where the security guard grabbed me. I tried to shake loose, and since I'm pretty strong I almost got away, but another guard came over to help the first and they had me.

They were going to prosecute, but because of my good record of helping out with the police youth league, the cops convinced them to give me a break. Mom picked me up at the station, and for some reason Joey was in the car with her, which made my humiliation much worse. I mean, I've tried to set an example for him my whole life, and now he sees me at maybe my lowest point ever. Mom didn't say a word the whole way home, and Joey just smirked most of the time.

Jenny came over again tonight, as she did every day last week, only this time without Paul. She went straight up to Joey's room. As she passed me downstairs, she just said a brief "Hi" and kept walking. Last week I figured she MUST have heard what happened with me and Chris. I don't know how I can talk to her again. November 15

I had a very disturbing dream last night. I dreamed I was on all fours, completely naked, harnessed to a wagon like a horse. Sitting in the wagon, holding a whip, naked except for his Nikes, was my brother. Next to him, also naked except for his sneakers, was his bud Paul, Jenny and Chris' younger brother. I was pulling the wagon along, and every once in awhile Joey or Paul would kick my ass with his Nikes, making me go faster. Every time that happened, I got a permanent red shoeprint on my ass. And it seemed very natural for me to be pulling that wagon. I woke up in a cold sweat. Where had THAT dream come from?

Jenny has been coming over regularly lately to see Joey. They now go around openly together at school also, even though she's two years older than he is. How did she get involved with HIM? What could the most beautiful girl in school possibly see in my younger brother? Well, actually, I WAS beginning to understand it. Joey has seemed so commanding lately, so masculine, so sure of himself. While I seem to be fading, he seems to be emerging into the social limelight at school. Having Jenny on his arm doesn't hurt. And for some reason I can't complain to him or even bring up the subject with him, or her. November 18

I've noticed that lately, I seem to be unable to refuse my brother's suggestions. Even when I don't agree with him and and when I'm disgusted at what he's telling me to do, I have to do it. I can't pinpoint when it began, but each day, his demands seem to get more outrageous, like he's seeing how far he can push me, and he hasn't found a limit yet. A while back, it started with little things, like him telling me to clean up his room. It moved on to bigger demands, like him telling me to give him and his friends rides at all hours. Yesterday, he casually said that I really should strip naked, put one of his used jockstraps on my head, and clean the kitchen. I started to argue with him, but even while I was arguing I was stripping.

What I don't understand is why mom doesn't say anything about any of this. Joey is somehow preventing me from communicating with her without getting his permission, but you'd think she'd notice as my behavior got more and more weird. She just smiles and goes about her business.

Joey found my diary -- he seems to go through my room regularly, and just takes what he wants, and I am too intimidated to stop him. The first time I found him doing this and angrily told him to put something back, I temporarily blacked out and when I came to, I found myself kneeling at the toilet, lapping his piss out of it. Joey saw that I had stopped making entries in this diary a week ago. He told me to get back to filling it out, so he could show it around to friends at school, both mine and his. Despite this chilling thought, I found myself compelled to get back to work on it.

I still have my mind -- when I can still focus with it -- but Joey can override my will with his at any time. How he got this power I don't know. Any part of my body has to do whatever he says. Last night he ordered me to get hard and jerk off, but not to cum, then he left my room to watch TV and must have forgotten about me. For hours I lay there, my fist pounding and pounding, getting sorer all the time but unable to stop. Finally, he came by on the way to his room and released me with a command. I put on some lotion to stop the burning, and contemplated my position. At least now I have some idea of why I've been going through changes. Of course, I've been forbidden by Joey's unbreakable orders to tell anyone about what was going on, or to seek help in any way. November 18

Today after school I went as usual to the police youth league session, and was surprised and more than a little scared to see Joey out front. He evidently read my diary entry about the coaching and decided to show up. As we went in the door, he hissed at me, "Listen, faggot. You're going to agree, out loud, with everything I say. And you're going to do everything I say. Got that?" Oh no, I thought. Not that, not here. "Answer me!" "Yes, Joey," I was forced to say.

We went to where the team was warming up. They gathered around me. "Introduce me," hissed Joey. "This is my little brother Joey," I told them. Joey said, "I've got news for you guys. I just found out why Lance here was interested in coaching your team. Seems he's a faggot, and all along he was just hot for your bods. Isn't that right, Lance?"

The team stared in amazement and disbelief. No! No! I wanted to scream. I felt short of breath, and could feel myself turning red. I was humiliated beyond measure. But I heard myself say, quietly, "Yes, that's right."

Joey snarled, "What did you say, fag?"

"Yes, Joey, that's right," I was forced to say loudly. I was breaking out into a serious sweat. The team members started to come out of their shock, and some were smirking evilly.

Joey continued: "He told me that he's dreamed for months of sucking all your cocks, and most of all he wanted to worship Darryl, who he considers a god." Oh no, oh no, all my work there destroyed in one minute. I grew even redder.

Darryl was still skeptical. "I don't know, man. I been workin with him for months, and I never noticed nothin like that."

"He told me he's always dreamed of jerking off while licking your feet, and calling you Master. Right, Lance?"

"Yes, Joey," I said, looking down in total shame.

"See, the faggot is perving over your feet right now. He's got a thing for feet, smelly old sneakers and used gym socks. He also loves raunchy jockstraps. He goes through the shoes in my closet and into my dirty laundry all the time at home."

"Man, that's low," said one of the younger kids.

"He's also into licking armpits, eating cum and drinking piss. At home, I use him as my own personal muscle toilet. But his real fantasy is serving as a slave to a bunch of inner-city guys like you. I just thought I'd reward him by bringing him to you." You could tell most of the guys were getting hot at the thought of having a slave give them the sexual satisfaction every young teen lusts after, whenever they wanted. Meanwhile, Darryl seemed to have grown somehow bigger in stature, with his muscular arms crossed.

Joey whispered something into Darryl's ear. "If you say that word, he'll call you Master and do anything you say. Lance, the guys want to take you into the locker room and have some fun with you. You're getting what you always wanted. Bye!" And off he went.

In a panic, I turned to follow him, but one word from Darryl and I was frozen in place. My leg muscles strained to get me out of there, but I couldn't move. The team gathered around me. Darryl said, "I can't believe it, but I guess it's true. I thought he was cool, but I guess he just wanted us all that time. I guess we can all have some fun here." He glared at me powerfully. "Lissen, you gotta think of us as real men, and you just a piece of dirt, somethin to serve us." As he said this, I looked around at the group. They all started to look like ideals of manhood to me, even the scrawniest 13 year old, while I was just an overgrown piece of shit fit only to serve them. I was not excited by this, only resigned to my deserved position. I followed the team into the locker room.

Mercifully, I don't remember much about that afternoon or evening. I don't know if they ordered me to forget it, or what. I woke up that night in the alley behind the locker room, naked, with every part of me feeling abused. My body was covered with dried sweat and partly dried piss. My mouth, asshole, and throat felt stretched, the incredibly foul taste in my mouth seemed to combine sweat, cum, and piss, and my muscles ached as if they had all been used full time for hours.

I had to limp home, naked. Fortunately, there were very few people in the street, although I had to duck into alleys and behind bushes on several occasions to avoid being spotted. November 25

News of the incident at the police youth league got back to school -- there was no way to keep it secret anyway -- and I was expelled. Of course I was unable to tell anyone I wasn't responsible for what happened. Leaving school didn't matter much, since my ability to do any work there seems to have ended anyway. But I find myself compelled to go there every afternoon and hang around the athletic field so I can catch glimpses of Chris and Drew at football practice. I have to be careful they don't catch me or I'll be ordered to leave school property.

Jenny comes by the house every evening now, wearing skimpy clothing despite the weather. She takes her top off and sits on Joey's lap, right in the living room. My mom just smiles. Whenever Joey says the word "slut", Jenny goes crazy and is all over him, tongue down his throat, fingers tugging at his zipper, begging for his cock. In all her time with me, she was so proper and dignified, as befit a classy popular senior. But here she has no control, and of course I now understand it. Paul and Joey now control her, the way Joey controls me. It's probably just a matter of time until Chris falls into Paul and Joey's clutches. When they control both twins, who knows WHAT Jenny and Chris will be forced to do. November 28

In a show of power, Joey required mom and me to go through Thanksgiving dinner totally naked. Again, mom doesn't seem to think any of this is strange. About an hour after we started, Jenny showed up -- I don't know how she sneaked out of her house without explanation, Paul must be gaining control of his home the way Joey already controls ours -- and at a word from Joey, Jenny also removed all her clothes and joined us at the table. Joey had her eat food off of various parts of his body while mom just smiled. As her tongue thoroughly cleaned stuffing and gravy from Joey's various orifices, instead of being disgusted I couldn't help wishing it was me doing the licking. December 2

I've moved out of my room, and into the basement. My brother wanted my room as a party room for him and his friends, and I had to agree in light of recent events that I didn't deserve my own room anyway. In the basement, I have a mattress on the floor, a small "table" consisting of piled-up old telephone books, and a lamp. I also have exercise equipment that I find myself compelled to use in almost all my spare moments.

My car also now belongs to my brother. He's still too young to drive, so he makes me drive him wherever he wants to go. He has started to make me wear a chauffeur's cap and open the car door for him. This always produces staring and laughs when I take him to school, but I have no choice but to obey him.

Last night, he made me wear a muscle shirt to show off my physique, and had me drive to the neighborhood with a lot of gay bars. He had me get out and strut cockily around the car, and I seemed to attract a lot of attention. My brother had a quiet discussion with an older guy, and soon I was in a room with the balding, somewhat overweight older guy taking his clothes off. The sight was totally disgusting to me, but I was forced to stand there and watch. Then, he uttered some word, I didn't hear what it was, but when he said it, I felt uncontrollable lust for him. I had never been attracted to any guy in my life, and now I was begging this ugly old guy to let me suck him off and be fucked by him. He wouldn't let me near his cock until I licked his boots clean while he called me disgusting names. After an hour of the painful sex that I desperately desired, he led me outside where my brother was waiting. My brother whispered another word into my ear, and suddenly I came out of the daze. I remembered everything that happened with complete disgust. I almost threw up right then and there, but I managed to avoid it because I knew my brother would punish me.

I looked up to see my brother putting his wallet back into his pocket. "Good boy, Lancie. Let's go back to the front of the big bar across the street and see if we can come up with any more business. We're just getting started!"

The next guy he talked with was only about my age, too young to get into the bar. He had been hanging around the entrance, looking around forlornly to get anyone's attention, but the burly biker types weren't interested. He was blond, only about 5' tall, very skinny and somewhat effeminate. When my brother sent us off to the room, I wasn't sure what to expect. Again, once the kid said this word, I was totally in his power. At first, he had me wrestle him into the ground and beat him up. Soon, though, I saw that our roles were changing, and when we wrestled the next time, the short skinny dude had me helplessly pinned, and then HE started abusing ME while I became weak as a kitten. Soon my tongue was working around his entire body, while occasionally he would suddenly punch or kick me painfully and laugh when I flinched in fear. I guess even natural bottom types have a hidden top side which can come out when they're in complete control.

This time, when we came back out of the room and my brother said the release word in my ear, I was not as physically revolted as I had been the previous time. In fact, while I was still somewhat humiliated and disgusted with myself, there was also the feeling underneath that at some level I enjoyed what happened. That feeling was perhaps the most frightening of all. December 6

After nearly a week of turning tricks, I am starting to accept what I must do, and even look forward to each session. Also, I can now get customers without my brother's help. I no longer need the control word to become obedient to my customer. No matter how young or old he is, or how dominant or submissive, I can't refuse any command. My brother did program me to snap out of it if the customer is about to do anything that would cause lasting physical damage. After all, he wants me to be able to turn trick after trick without much delay.

When I got back after work today, I found that Joey had used some of the money to upgrade and add to the exercise equipment in my basement area. Joey also mentioned that now that he understood the business, he might as well make a few bucks out of Jenny too. And he said that Paul would have Chris "ready" any day now to join their toy collection. Paul was going to bring both his siblings to our house the next evening to try them out as a set. December 7

Sure enough, when I got back to the house this evening, I found Joey and Paul watching TV. Jenny, expressionless, was on her hands and knees in front of Joey's chair, with him using her as a footrest. In the corner, standing at attention, stood a naked, hard Chris. They seemed to be ignoring him completely. He was sweating with the stress and effort of remaining completely still and hard. With my new perspective, I admired his tall, totally smooth body. His arms, legs, and chest all seemed bigger and better developed than I remembered them. Judging from his increased musculature, I guessed that Paul has him on the same merciless workout regimen that I am on. Paul is also having Chris grow his beautiful blond hair much longer than it ever was. I did however catch the look of desperation in his deep blue eyes as he stood helplessly frozen, deathly afraid to move a muscle.

When the TV show they were watching was over, Joey and Paul discussed their upcoming ventures involving Jenny, Chris, and me, their three moneymaking assets and slaves. While they spoke, Joey idly ran the toes of one of his feet around the kneeling Jenny's tits, causing her to moan occasionally. My old self would have been totally outraged at this scene, but all I felt was intense jealousy, not of Joey but of Jenny. I wished I could be on my knees in front of Joey, with him playing with me with his feet. But of course he's straight. I'll never be able to serve him in the ways that Jenny can.

Joey and Paul decided that while I was already too broken to be anything but a fully obedient faggot slave, they could train Chris differently and rent him out either to rich men or women. The job for Chris, Jenny and me would now be to learn as much as we could about sexual techniques from selected porn tapes, and then practice on each other. There was some discussion of bringing Drew's younger brother Billy onto the "management team", so that Drew could be captured and trained to be "stablemaster" and enforcer, to oversee our learning process, collect money from tricks, and make sure we remained in the team's complete control while they were off in school or elsewhere. Drew is suited for this since he's bigger and stronger than any of us, and Joey told Paul he had already started to condition me to obey Drew. Of course I didn't say anything since I wasn't asked to speak, but I didn't mind this idea at all when I heard it.

We had our first sexual technique practice session this evening. When Chris and I were practicing together, Chris always assumed the dominant position. Meanwhile, Chris and Jenny practiced together in order to learn many variations of straight sex technique. Joey seemed especially to get off watching Chris push me around roughly while I groveled, while Paul satisfied his familial fantasies watching his helpless older twin siblings go lustily at it under his direction. Sometimes Paul had one or both twins work on his body just for fun.

Joey seemed especially determined to keep me and Jenny physically apart. He discussed this with Paul. "Lance still seems to be looking at her once in awhile. Maybe there's still some masculinity and self-esteem left. I guess I need to bring him even lower by kicking the last bit of dignity out of him," sighed Joey. "Okay, let's get to work." He said a word and I passed out. December 31

I crawl up on all fours from my basement mattress for breakfast. I do this to show respect for my brother and because I'm not worthy enough to walk on two legs. Breakfast, like all my meals, is a tasteless protein and vitamin mash that helps with my muscular development, served in a dog bowl at my brother's feet under the table. If I've been extra good, he'll stir it with his bare foot, and let me lick it off his foot and from between his toes. He knows I really appreciate this because with the bland mash, the only flavor I can get is from his foot sweat and toe jam. Sometimes when he hasn't washed he'll spread some of it in his sweaty armpits for me to lick out, to give me some flavor variety. I really appreciate his thoughtfulness, and don't deserve such careful treatment. When he pats my head in approval, I instantly get hard. How godlike he is.

Housework and working out occupy my full time during every day. Around the house I am almost always completely naked, except when I need to wear protective gear for certain household tasks or workouts. In the evening, I occasionally practice being abused at the feet of the now incredibly-muscled Chris. At night, I drive my brother's car to the bar side of town, where business lines up for me. It seems there's no one like me in this town, young, horse-hung, hugely muscled and absolutely obedient, and there's a big market for my services.

I know now how my brother managed my transformation from the beginning, using a combination of drugs and subliminal programming with tapes he recorded. I'm really grateful to my brother for helping me find my appropriate place in life. With my almost full-time workout and bodybuilding activities, I'm in better physical shape than I have ever been. With my brother having set me up in my profession, I am earning really good money for the family every evening. We've made enough that we are moving into a bigger house with much more party space for my brother and his friends, and now that he has his license, Joey has a second car, a Viper, that he drives himself while I use his old one (the one that was mine originally). I help him reinforce my training by using the collection of tapes he recorded to increase my submissive obedience.

I don't have to worry about college, or anything else. I am especially thankful that my brother made me realize that my place in life is a muscleslave, serving men of all ages and types. This HAS been the best year ever. •