Date: Sun, 20 Oct 2013 14:32:47 -0500
From: Trent Ryder <trent.ryder@outlook.com>
Subject: Brother's Keeper  Part One

This is my first story.  I will appreciate feedback and will reply to any
emails.

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				Jack's Bone
			      By Trent Ryder
			 (trent.ryder@outlook.com)

				Chapter One

At school Jack fitted in with most of the students.  He played football and
was well liked.  At sixteen he was 5'11" with brown hair and eyes.  Long
limbed, he walked with an easy stride.  When guys wanted to go raise hell
on a weekend, Jack was invited but always found a reason to decline.  Girls
liked him, attracted to his quiet eyes as much as his football arms.  To
all appearances, Jack with the smooth manly chest, the long legs and
roundly white butt, led a happy life.

But at home it was a different world.  After his mother died, Jack's father
became a strict Pentecostal, finding some relief from his grief by
subscribing to a rejection of all the things considered `worldly.'  The
house now became an isolated world for Jack, and his little brother Grady,
as well as their solitary father.

Mr. Cooper was a cabinet maker by trade, working downtown in a specialty
shop during the week.  He laid down strict rules for the boys and expected
them to obey "as long as you put your feet under my table" as he expressed
it.  On Saturdays he drove to a small community 15 miles away to help those
people build their chapel.  They appreciated his craftsmanship and admired
the fine woodwork.

The Coopers lived near the edge of town in an older, two-storied wooden
home with high ceilings and large porches.  Tall oak trees shaded the
porches in summer, and leaf raking added another chore for Jack and his
brother in fall and winter.  The outward appearance was one of quiet peace,
but since Mrs. Cooper's death life in that home had become stern.

During football season, Jack was so busy he hardly noticed things at home.
Afternoon scrimmages, Friday night games, bus trips with the team, Saturday
morning after-game run throughs, that was his world.  But once that ended,
once the season was over, his dad expected Jack to come home after school
and do chores.  "It'll keep you away from worldly things" he explained.

That was when Jack realized his little brother was growing away from him,
changing, becoming someone he didn't know any more.  Grady was 13 now, and
he had acquired a best friend in Matt Vinson who lived down the street
beyond the vacant field next door.  The two boys spent every afternoon
together it seemed.

On the second floor, down the hall from their father's large bedroom, Jack
and Grady had their own separate bedrooms, and shared a connecting bath.
In Mr. Cooper's new Pentecostal world, no one locked doors inside, because
families didn't have secrets, didn't hide things from each other.

So Jack and Grady had to adjust to a bathroom where someone could walk in
on you at any time.  Jack didn't like the fact that by the time he got home
from school, Matt would already be in Grady's room.  It seemed to Jack that
he couldn't use the bathroom in privacy.  What was worse, their voices
always sounded like they were right outside the door in Grady's room like
they were just about to walk right in on him.

Jack had a problem, a big one.  It seemed to him that after football season
was over, he kept having the overwhelming urge to masturbate all the time.
When he had first discovered jacking off at the age of 12, he did it a
bunch of times initially.

That was how he got in trouble with his father originally, at least the
first time, over doing that.  His father stripped him in front of his
younger brother and used a wooden strip from his cabinet shop on his
buttocks until they were crimson and he was in tears.  What he hated most
was the embarrassment and the strange look on Grady's face as he watched
the spanking.

It was summer and the days were long.  It seemed his dick kept wanting to
get hard all the time, and even though it was still small, it seemed to get
excited brushing up against his clothes.  So he stopped wearing underwear,
hoping that would give it some breathing room.

But one day as he sat in the hall waiting for his father to come home, the
feeling of wanting to beat off came over him so strongly that he just sat
there, enjoying the urge.  He didn't touch it, he just breathed deeply and
concentrated on how good it felt.  Looking back later he would remember
that period of his sex life as his glory days, his time when every urge
seemed tremendous, magnificent, and ultimate.  As he sat there in the
straight wooden high-backed chair in the hall, the feeling became more and
more intense.  He began to rock back and forth, never touching his bone but
feeling its power inside him.  Without warning when the feeling was at its
height, his dick began to explode, sending cum spurting inside his
trousers.  It was at that moment his father came home.

He couldn't make his father believe he hadn't touched it.  His father kept
saying words like "filthy" and "lust crazy" and "undisciplined."  He had
been forced to remove his crotch wet trousers and stand there nude while
his father went to get the wooden rod. He remembered his brother watching
him with that strange expression.

It seemed that his father always knew when he had jacked off, no matter how
careful he was or how long he waited between times.  Those nights at supper
there was a lot of silence, and always there was that certain look on his
brother's face.  Then after the meal his father would take them into the
living room and punish him.

Fortunately after a while the urge to jack off slowed down to only
occasionally.  When that happened, he could hardly remember the force of
the drive that the summer had given him.  But now after 4 years it was back
in full force, and it was like he couldn't get enough of it.  So it was
really aggravating that when he'd come home from school, horned up all day
with his nuts churning and his bone aching, that he couldn't just sit down
on the pot and jack off.

He decided that maybe since he knew he couldn't beat it, it just made him
want to do it more.  He really yearned to be buck naked, sitting down, and
grabbing his pole and starting in.  He could feel the warmth, the strength,
the power of it building up to a monster shot when he practically rose up
in the air as he exploded.  It was a hunger that was all consuming.

These days if he went in the bathroom, Grady would say, "That you, Jack?
You home?"

Then Matt would ask, "What're you doing in there, huh?"

Then they would rattle the door like they were about to open it.

Jack knew that any other guy at school wouldn't take that off a kid brother
and his little friend.  Any other guy would shake them until their teeth
rattled.

But that was the problem.  A couple of weeks ago his dad had come home
unexpectedly and walked into the bathroom unannounced and again caught him
whacking off in full glory.  If it had been soft or semi-long, he might
have been able to cover it.  But it was at the worst possible time, it was
the moment of triumph when he was already rising off the seat and his fist
was thundering in a blazing finish.

That moment had changed Jack's life forever.  The only good thing was that
Matt had not been with Grady when his father exploded.

"Grady!  Come in here!" The man shouted.

Grady came in sheepishly, but out of the corner of his eye he gave Jack an
evil wink.

"Grady, do you know what your brother has been doing?"

"Yes, sir."  He hung his head as if in shame.

"What?" he exploded, "you mean you knew about this?"

"Yes, sir.  I mean I don't do that, and my friends don't do that, but..."

Jack knew Grady was feeling triumphant.  His little brother flashed him a
real smirk, before continuing "He comes home from school and does it in
here every day.  When I have my friends over it gets embarrassing because
he makes so much noise and does it for so long..."

"This is incredible" Mr. Cooper said, his face alternating between fury and
disgust.

"Yes, sir.  My friends make fun of me because they know I have a brother
that does that stuff all the time.  They don't understand someone who would
be doing that.  They're nice guys."

If Jack could have killed him on the spot, he would have done so gladly.

Mr. Cooper shook his head.  "I want to talk to you boys, but it will wait
until after dinner.  Let's get ready for a meal and all go downstairs."

"I need to get dressed first" Jack said, his bone still pointing out in
front of him.  He was trying to cover it with his hand.

"Are you still playing with that thing, boy?" Mr. Cooper raged.  He turned
to leave.

"I'll come with you, dad" Grady said, flashing Jack a real leer.  But
actually he was seeking safety, not wanting to be alone with Jack.

That night after a dinner eaten almost in total silence, he called the boys
into the living room.  Grady's little dick tingled with the thought of what
his older brother would be going through.  He was learning a first hand
lesson in sex and power and what they could accomplish.

Jack on the other hand yearned for all this to be over.  It was
embarrassing and humiliating and even degrading, especially in front of his
little brother.  At least Matt wasn't here to gloat over it all.

Finally his father spoke.  "Has this started up again?  Have you been
degrading yourself and for how long, Jack?"

"I don't know."

"I want you to tell me the truth, son.  Has this curse come back on you?"

Jack gave him a wide eyed look.  "I meant to say no sir, it hasn't."

"Grady?"

Grady looked down at his shoes.  This was his big moment.  He put a
reluctant tone in his voice.  "I think when he started coming home after
football season was over, that's when I noticed it.  My friend Matt was
over and we heard noises and stuff.  We would giggle and Jack would holler
through the door at us."

"So your friend knows what kind of a brother you have, does he?"

"Yes sir." After a pause, Grady added brightly, "He's got a big brother in
the Marines, and he says his brother never did any of that kind of stuff.
He said his brother told him guys who did that stuff all the time were
sick."

"I see.  And `by all the time', you mean...?"

"We leave our bathroom doors open at night, and I can hear him in bed and
the springs make a noise, and it goes on for a long time."

Jack felt like the floor had fallen out beneath him.  He hadn't realized
Grady could hear him from in there.

Mr. Cooper turned to him now.  "Jack, how often are you doing this?  How
much?  I want a specific answer, son, not an evasion."

`Dad..." he pleaded.

"Answer me truthfully son."

"Yes...well...I do it after school sometimes in the afternoon, and
sometimes at night in bed."

"Sometimes" his father asked incredulously.

"It's every day" Grady said, hanging his head as if he hated to have to
admit how much his brother did this awful thing.

"And where else do you do it, son?  Do you do it at school too?"

Before he stopped to think, Jack said "Not much."

"Why is that?"

"It's hard to find a place.  I mean people keep coming in the bathroom and
they wonder why you're in the stall..."  He realized he had gone too far.

"Do you understand what you're admitting?  You are addicted to this
terrible sin.  I don't know what to do.  I think you need to see a doctor."

"Oh no, dad.  Please.  Please don't make me go to a doctor!"

"Well we have to do something."

Desperate, Jack said "I'll stop.  I promise I'll stop."

"What if you don't?"

Jack made a dangerous suggestion, "If I can't stop, then I'll go to the
doctor."

Grady, who had been listening eagerly, bowed his head in humility and said
quietly, "I can watch him."

"What?"

He still kept his head bowed as if to show he didn't want to embarrass his
brother by staring at the scene. "I'll watch him for you, dad.  I'm home
when he is, and if he does that again I can tell you."

The trap had been sprung.  Jack knew there was no escape.

Mr. Cooper paused, then nodded.  "That's mighty good of you, Grady."
Turning to Jack, he added, "I don't know how you got yourself into this
habit, son.  You were always a good boy, strong and healthy.  You play
sports.  You know those other fellows don't sit around all the time doing
this thing with themselves. What would they think of you if they found
out?"

"Dad, please."

"No I'm serious, son.  You're 16 years old.  You need to get a hold on your
life.  In two years you'll be out of school. If you went into the service,
can you think what would happen if people found you doing this?"

Jack shot Grady a look and saw him nodding in serious agreement with his
dad.  He wondered what all that crap was about Matt's brother in the
Marines.  He vaguely remembered Dex, but couldn't imagine why Grady had to
bring that up.

He went back up to his room and sat at his desk, looking at his schoolwork.
He certainly didn't feel like studying tonight.  He tried to sort through
what had happened today, how things had fallen apart so quickly.  He wished
he had someone to talk to, but at the same time he didn't want to talk to
anybody about any of it.

Finally it was time for bed.  He got undressed except for his jockey briefs
which he always slept in, changing to fresh ones in the morning.  He
climbed wearily into bed and slipped under the covers.  He lay for a long
time thinking.  He tried to bring up happy things to think about.  He
remembered the final game of the season. That was a great time.  As wide
receiver he had caught a long pass and gone thundering over the goal as the
crowd roared.  He remembered the locker room afterwards and how happy
everyone was, slapping each other on the back, occasionally making a
playful grab for somebody's balls...all in fun.

The locker room.  The guys. The smell.  It seemed so real as if he were
back there now on that day.  He stretched.  His dick started to harden.  He
tried to break out of the spell he was in, but it seemed to envelope him.
He hated that such great memories would churn up his balls and make his
dick hard.

He slipped his briefs down to his knees, freeing his swelling pole and
giving relief to his balls. He sighed a deep sigh.  Maybe if he was
careful, if he was quiet, he could jack off one last time, and then try to
make a fresh start tomorrow.  He quietly rolled onto his left side, facing
the wall.  He reached under the mattress for the discarded sock he kept
there for these occasions.  Keeping it close, he wrapped his hand around
the surging pole.  And then...a hand tapped him on the shoulder.

Grady had waited patiently in his room, knowing what Jack would ultimately
try to do.  He knew he had to keep his courage up if his plan for power
over Jack was to work.  When finally he heard the familiar sound of the bed
springs, he had gotten quietly out of bed and padded silently into Jack's
room.  He now leaned down and whispered in Jack's ear.

"Jack...don't do that.  I'm your brother and I can help you.  Don't do
anything that would make me tell dad."  He made it sound so sincere he
almost believed it himself.

Jack didn't say anything.  Grady knew he had to sound firm and decisive.
"Roll back to this side and lie on your back."

He began pulling the covers back.  In the dim moonlight he could see his
brother: tall, strong, and with a massive bone jutting defiantly upward.
Grady was impressed.  He had never been this close to his brother's
erection, and it seemed for a moment almost overwhelming.  His little prick
tingled and his little balls rejoiced.

"Now, Jack, pull your shorts off and hand them to me."

"Fuck you."

"No, Jack.  You don't want me to run to dad all wide-eyed and say you're
doing it again, do you?  Now pull off your shorts.  Think of it as a peace
offering, a goodwill gesture that you'll do what I say."

Reluctantly Jack complied, handing them over to his brother.

"That's good, Jack.  See how easy it is to follow instructions?  Now I'm
going to help you out.  But first I want you to put your hands behind your
head."

"What?"

"Just do what I say."

Jack was flabbergasted.  He knew he was trapped, but everything in him
willed him to resist.  He looked with an almost hypnotic stare as Grady's
hand moved across his body and slowly grasp his rock hard dick.  Jack gasp
at the sensation.  Nobody had ever touched his dick before, and certainly
no guy.

For Grady the feeling was magic.  The warmth of the meat, the strength of
the bone, the sheer size of the thing was beyond all his imagination.  He
only wished his best friend Matt was here to see this and have fun with
him.  But, he told himself, that time would come later.

Jack's bone was leaking precum.  Grady's dick had not yet reached the point
in his sexual development when he jacked off he could produce much precum,
but he sensed what to do.  He swished his palm across the tip of the head,
gathering the juice there and basting the pole with it.  Jack couldn't
believe the sensations.  He had never felt anything this good.  He had
never realized how someone else's hand could do a better job than his own.
In a different sense, Grady was carried away as well.

Grady began a slow-paced pumping with occasional pauses.  When he touched
the piss slip at the top, Jack gasp.  "God.  God."  Then he let out a deep
moan.

"Shhh, Jack."

Grady took Jack's briefs and pushed them into his brother's mouth to keep
him quiet.  Jack's reaction was to loosen his hands and reach over to pull
his shorts out of his mouth.

Grady let go of the bone and turned as if he were leaving.  "I'll go get
dad."

"No!" Jack hissed urgently.  "Wait.  I'll...I'll do what you say."

This was music to Grady's ears; it put magic in his heart.  He started back
in on the bone again, enjoying the picture of his stud brother buck naked
with his hands locked tightly behind his head, straining and tensing as he
enjoyed being worked off.

At times Grady stopped and played with the head, teasing it as he moved the
tips of his fingers across it, around it, and along the tender underside of
the bone.  He sensed his brother wanted him to just get to work and pump
him off, but Grady didn't want it to be that easy.

He would play with his balls with one hand, and reach up and pinch his
brother's nipples with the other.  He liked the feel of the hot, tense,
toned body of his stud brother.  His friend Matt had told him one time, "My
brother says jocks make the best toys."  This was a toy he was going to
enjoy a lot.

Jack was getting heated.  He wanted to shoot off, but Grady wouldn't quite
get him there. He would be near, then Grady would stop and play with him in
different ways.  His balls were so full, his dick was so hard, his muscles
were so tense that sweat began to break out on his forehead.  And to top it
off, his own dirty sweaty shorts were crumpled in his mouth.  He had tried
slowly pushing them out, using his tongue, even though they tasted nasty,
but when Grady saw what was happening, he reached up and pushed them way
back nearly to his throat.  As he gagged, his brother picked up the strokes
on his bone to quiet him.  He decided to let Grady have his way since at
least he would finally be able to fire his cannon.

As he was nearing his climax he flashed Grady a look, silently urging him
to go faster.  He was amazed at the quiet, almost scientific way his little
brother was working on his bone.  It was like a homework assignment.

Through the shorts he mumbled what he hoped was close to "Speed up."

With that Grady stopped, looked at him, and as if he were a teacher in
school he said "Look, Jack if you try to tell me again what to do, I'll
quit and go wake dad and tell him to come in here and see what I found."

It was almost an hour later, and with Jack half out of his mind, that
Grady's magic fingers started the final buildup.  He had milked so much
precum that his hand was soaking, his fingers working unrelentingly on the
great pole he was in charge of, and he could feel that his brother's balls
were coated with the stuff too. Additionally the whole smell of sex and
musk and sweat and ball itch was filling the entire room.

Jack began moaning as his climax neared.  Grady had to stop and silence him
with a motion.  Then he began again.  This would be it.  Jack bucked as the
moment approached, he gasp through the shorts and twisted his body rigid to
get the most pleasure, and finally the first shot came.

It went high, higher than Jack himself had ever seen it do.  But in that
instant Grady removed his hand, he stopped pumping his dick at the one
moment he most wanted it, most needed it, and was most ready to give
anything to have it.  Caught up in the sheer ecstasy of the orgasm Jack
bucked and twisted, hands still grasped behind his head, unable to remember
to let go and grab his own dick.  He spasmed and bucked through 5 long
shots and two small ones, while Grady kept a hand on his chest to remind
him to stay in place.

At last the orgasm and spasms subsided.  The room stank of sex.  Jack was
bathed in sweat and cum.  His dick was red from use and sensitive beyond
anything it had ever been before.

Grady leaned close and whispered, "You can take the shorts out now, Jack."
With that he grasp Jack's declining dick one last time.  Jack shuddered
form the sensitivity of it – he couldn't bear for it to be handled right
now.

"You got to shoot off.  Now it wasn't as good as if you could do it your
way yourself, and certainly it would have been better if I had pumped it
all the way through the blasting at the end.  But I did it that way to show
you that the way you get relief is up to me.  I'll even decide if you get
any relief at all.  But if I ever catch you working yourself off, I promise
you I'm going straight to dad...and you know that'll mean big trouble."

Jack couldn't think of anything to say.  He had never seen his little
brother in this way.

Grady leaned close with an evil smile. "Aren't you going to thank me?"

Jack pulled the shorts out.  "I'm going to take a piss."

"And clean your bed up.  You've got cum all over everything.  You don't
want dad finding it that way in the morning, do you?"

With that, Grady cheerfully went to his own room to bed.

End of chapter one