Date: Sun, 19 Feb 2012 22:27:50 -0800
From: Randall Austin <randallaustin2011@hotmail.com>
Subject: Helping My Brother - Part 7

Helping My Brother

Part Seven

By Randall Austin

This story is erotic fiction meant for mature readers and should only be
read by adults over the age of eighteen years old. Please do not use my
stories without my permission and please forward all comments to
randallaustin2011@hotmail.com

Randall Austin's Archive Group:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Randall_Austin_Stories

(Notes from the journal of Craig Soffel)

After supper Dad and I were really looking forward to
giving Marty his strapping for swearing at Norman.  I
do need to clarify that; we looked forward to
punishing Marty not because we are meanies who
delight in seeing our son and brother suffer, but
rather because punishment really works on Marty
and helps to make him a better person.
It assists, in a positive way, into turning Marty into the
servant he is supposed to be.  And that gives a truly
wonderful feeling; knowing that your actions are helping
someone out in such a beneficial and lasting way.
Especially someone you love as much as a family
member.

And from that standpoint it's important to realize
that it is therefore perfectly OK to take pleasure in,
even to a high degree, a servant's discipline
procedures.

Dad had Marty lay on the bed with his backside
exposed, secured his hands to the front frame of the
bed, and had me sit on his legs.

Dad took the German made `Kontrol 200' prison
strap, which Oregon Social Services had provided us
with, took his place alongside the bed, and began
delivering the 20 blows Marty had coming.

I had learned in handler's class to offer
encouragement to slaves under punishment, so I
did. "You're taking it like a man, bro.  I'm so proud
of you.  Only 16 more blows to go!"

"That screaming is good for you, Marty.  Let it out.
Let out all of your naughtiness.  Scream it out,
Marty.  Because we want you to be the best that you
can be!"

Marty was humping his butt up and down in an effort
to avoid the blows, and I suddenly realized that this
ripe, firm, naked, ass twitching before me was, in
fact, mine.  While it would be several weeks along in
his personal services training before I would actually
be fucking Marty, I must say that the sight of his
muscled ass helped perk up my cock as much as the
actual beating.  (I guess these punishment sessions
get one hard because your body is responding in
pleasure mode to something it knows is good and
beneficial to the slave; your body naturally wants
you to feel good over something it knows is good for
all involved.)

I offered more encouragement, "Don't be ashamed
that you're crying your eyes out like a little kid.
Dad and I are so proud of you.  We are going to turn you
into a `big' boy.  A big boy who knows how to
behave!  Only six more blows to go, bro.  Hang in
there."

Once the punishment was over, and I got off of
his legs, dad and I watched Marty kick and scissor
his legs.  I could see his cock was rock hard (Social
Services says that's a good sign), and his banded
balls were sweaty and plump.

I offered more comfort to Marty, "That red ass of
yours is telling me that you are probably going to be
one very well-behaved slave for the next few days.
Am I write, bro?"

He knew to give a proper answer, "Yes, brother dear.
Thank you, brother dear."

Then I asked, "And what do you have to say to your
father, Marty?"

Marty shouted/cried his answer out, "Thank you,
father, sir, for loving me enough to guide and correct
me, sir."

Dad was beaming, and also complimented Marty,
"I'm so proud of you, son!  You took you're beating
like good slaves everywhere; you cried but didn't
swear, and didn't try to blame Craig and me for what
we had to do to you."

We watched Marty quiet down for a bit, then dad
came up to me, put a hand on my shoulder, and
spoke quietly, "Son, thanks for being such a mature,
fine, overseer to your older brother."

I nodded and dad continued, "I'm going to leave you
two alone now.  You know what you need to do, son.
Just take it slow.  Don't expect too much from him
this first lesson.  There's no hard, fast, rule on
fellatio training for slaves.  Just get him to do what
feels good to you.

Have a flesh clamp nearby in case he gets defiant,
but I would suspect that after the beating he just got,
Marty will probably do whatever you ask him to do
without a moment's hesitation."

"And, remember, there is no need to have any
inhibitions.  He is a slave first, and your brother
second.  Whatever you want to use him for is fine.
And anything you do will be good for him; and all of
it will also help to bring us together more closely as
a family."

I could see the love in dad's eyes.  He looked deeply
at me, kissed me on the cheek, and then took his
leave.

I walked up to Marty and unlocked his hands from
the cuffs at the head of the bed.  He stayed in the
same position on the bed, but he rubbed and
kneaded his butt with his hands.  He was looking
good to me.  I went and got a sailor hat, armband,
necklace, and some cologne.

I returned to the room and gently commanded
Marty, "Let's sit up, buddy."  He did.  It pained him
at first to sit on his butt.  His dick was pointing
straight up and hit his belly button.  It was quite enticing.
I put a wide banded, silver, necklace on him and he
asked what I was doing.  I told him, "I want to make
you look pretty, bro."

And the silver necklace did indeed look good on him.
I then put a three-inch wide silver armband around
his right upper arm.  It was fun dressing Marty up,
getting him to look like a show boy.  When I put the
sailor hat on him at a cocked angle, he blushed with
embarrassment, and protested quietly, "What's
going on?"

"You have to get used to this, Marty.  I get to do to
you whatever I feel will help get me feeling good.
And I must say, you look great!  Now smile for me."

He didn't smile, and I didn't care.  I took the
cologne and was about to spray it on his chest, but he
backed away and held out a hand, "Don't put that on
me.  This is weird."

I smiled, "Dude, you always wore cologne when you
went out with your girlfriends."

"That's different Craig.  It was for the girls.  They
liked me to use it."

I was honest, "I like it on you too, bro, and I'm just
like one of your girlfriends now.  They liked you
pretty and smelling good when you licked out their
pussies.  Same here, I'm just like them.  I don't
have a pussy for you to slobber on, but I want you
looking pretty and smelling good as you lick, nibble,
and suckle, my dick, bro.  We both have got to get
used to this, because this is the way things are going
to be from now on."  With that, I winked at him and
sprayed both of his nipples.

Marty was more confused than frightened, and
whimpered, "Please, no, bro."

I sat the cologne bottle down and rubbed the scent
into both of his tits.  Man, his titties felt good!

It got me so aroused massaging his muscular tits, that it
caused me to curl my lips, "You feel like a whore,
bro?  That's Okay.  I like the guys who suck me off
to be tarted-up whore boy types, just like I've got
you fixed up.  You look cute and naughty.  You have
nothing to be ashamed of.  It's what turns me on.
You are simply doing what hundreds of other little
slave boys all around the city have to do whenever
they're ordered; get yourselves prettied up and suck
your master's cock."

Marty seemed genuinely shocked, "You've let other
guys suck you off?"

I figured Marty was just a slave, so I could be
honest, "All the time.  You mean you never have?"

Marty calmly shook his head 'no', and looked like he
would cry.  I reclined on the bed, and asked him to
lie down beside me.  He did as instructed.  I moved
closed to him so our bodies touched side by side.  I
thought Marty squirmed, but again, I didn't care.  I
instructed him, "Start rubbing my thigh, bro."

With his eyes staring at the ceiling, Marty moved his
hand to my thigh and gently manipulated it.  His
hand felt good over the material of my Levi's.  I
noticed his hardon had not yet gone down, so I
figured this couldn't be all that bad for him.

It went a little slowly at first.  But eventually I
took all of my clothes off and ordered him to get down to
my crotch and start tonguing me.  He didn't like
that, so I grabbed the flesh clutch and squeezed a
big mound of his flesh from the side of his chest and
maneuvered him into place between my legs.  Marty
immediately started licking me down there as he was
ordered.

The beauty of social servitude is that all this stuff
dad and I use on Marty, such as the flesh clutch, leg
braces, and nose clamps, are completely legal.  They
have been legalized because rather than being,
backwards, medieval, and cruel, as the critics of the
servitude system claim, such punishment devices are
in fact humane, progressive, and the ultimate
kindnesses.  They are kindnesses because they are
in fact life-enhancing procedures for the slave.

They enhance their lives because such training devices
result in fewer punishments having to be delivered to
the slave.
After licking me all over between my legs, Marty had
a little trouble actually getting started on sucking
my cock.  I encouraged him, "You're going to have to
get used to it bro.  Try pretending your suckling on
your girlfriend's tittie.  Go on, bro, try that!"

He did.  He sucked on my dick like a little piglet on
its mommy's tit.  It felt awesome.  And he looked so
cute in his sailor boy hat and necklace.  The fact
that he was humiliated at being dressed up and scented
made it all the hotter for me.

"That's the way bro.  Just keep practicing down
there.  You're getting better with each second.
You're getting the hang of it.  Soon you'll be an ace
sucker boy."

As his head bobbed up and down on my college boy
popsicle, I told him how much I liked his Mohawk.
"I love your slave Mohawk bro.  Looks real proper on
you.  Just like all the other cock-sucking slave boys
in the city!"

"I'm going to grab you by your slave-boy ears now,
big fella, so I can guide your head bobbing action to
get you to take me to the finish line."  It was fun
holding Marty by the ears; kind of like driving a
racehorse.

When I finally came and I made sure Marty
swallowed every last drop. Marty wanted to run out
of the room, but I commanded, "Wait a minute
buddy!  Just because I came, that doesn't mean your
job is over.  I want you down there giving me a cock
scrub with your tongue, and a full ass licking."

He started to cry, and I held my ground.  It resulted
in me in getting a good cock cleaning, and a
tentative ass licking.  As far as the ass licking, it
was okay.  I know it had to be hard on him, being his
first time; but it was a good start.

It ended up being a most memorable day.  Having
your first session with your own sex slave is one hell
of a power trip.  Having a sex slave who has to do
whatever you command is nothing but sheer
euphoria.  And the fact that my sex slave is my older
brother makes it all that more totally awesome!