Date: Fri, 16 May 2003 12:33:49 -0400
From: Dom R <dom6789@hotmail.com>
Subject: Hot Younger Brother - Chapter 1

HOT YOUNGER BROTHER CHAPTER 1

Copyright (c) 2003 by Pete Marenga
Dom6789@hotmail.com


I'm Pete.  I come from a strict, loving family, so I was way
behind the curve as far as the general attitudes of my friends
about parents, respect, chores, cussing, obedience, loving all
family members, and schoolwork.  But I felt I was being raised
right, so, I liked myself.  Mom had strayed a few years ago, so
now it was just me, dad, and my younger brother, Todd.

I guess it was kind of unusual for a family that was well-off to
be this way, but my father ruled with an iron hand and a wide
leather strap that still made me scream at 17.  My younger
brother, Todd, was 13 going on 14 very soon.  He still hadn't
tasted the strap, and that made me mad--real mad!  Dad's rule was
that you got a hand-spanking only (maybe the big ruler) when you
were under 14.  You reach 14, and watch out!

I couldn't wait for Todd to reach 14.  He'd get away with murder,
which pissed me off almost as much as him getting me in trouble
for no real reason--on Todd's say-so.  Dad would believe him over
me, and I'd get it with the strap, especially if Todd claimed I'd
hit him.  Those were the worst spankings, and I thought part of
my butt or the back of my legs would peel off in the process.
What they say about not being able to sit down is not just a
myth.

Also, I'd have to take some real shit in the shower after gym
class if my butt was still red from a strapping.  Thank God there
was one other guy in my gym class, Steve, whose dad used the same
type of discipline--but Steve didn't get it as often as I did.  I
was a pretty tall kid, so my friends didn't come down too hard on
me--mostly heavy teasing.

I loved my little brother, but even though I could easily pin him
to the floor any time I wanted, I couldn't stand his position of
power.  Sure, I was bigger and stronger and could overpower Todd,
and yeah, dad put me in charge when he would be gone, and made
sure my brother Todd respected me, but Todd knew he had it over
me, because he could claim I did something bad to him, and then
smile his stupid smirk when dad dragged me to the basement.  I'll
bet Todd loved hearing my screams as dad laid it on me, and the
sound came up through the floor.

To tell you the truth, even though Todd and I loved each other as
brothers, and protected each other, I couldn't wait to hear him
scream.  I was hoping with everything inside me that Todd's 14th
birthday would bring real change, and that dad really meant what
he said, and would lay it on his little butt, next spanking.

I wasn't some weirdo or masochist--I wanted JUSTICE.  Not
revenge, not meanness, but justice.  Not the fake kind of justice
where you take matters into your own hands, but the REAL justice,
where the man in charge delivers the right punishment.  I swear
dad went so light on Todd, I don't think he ever got a REAL
spanking.  I don't think Todd so much as moaned when he got his
so-called spankings.

I wasn't going to get this idiotic smile on my face when Todd
yelled from a REAL spanking, I just wanted to know, when it came
to punishment, he would get what I got.

Todd had other advantages that I could see, but never told him
about.  You might as well say he was already 14, but tall for his
age--maybe 5' 9" and 150 lbs., with blonde hair that set off his
good looks and blue eyes.  In other words, Todd was cuter than I
was.  He was also bigger than I was at that age--which meant he'd
overtake me in a few years.  I was good-looking, but Todd was
just plain cute.  To me, this was totally unfair.  Sometimes he'd
rub it in, or I'd think he was, but I never let on.  He'd say,
'Pete, how do I look?' and I'd tell him, 'You look fine, Todd,' -
-just like it was nothing to me, but inside I was jealous and
pissed.

Like I say, I'm not bad looking.  At 17 I stayed pretty thin and
tight-muscled--I'm 5' 11" and 170 lbs., with dark-brown hair and
brown eyes.  My legs were hairy, but otherwise I was smooth,
except for a really small, thin patch of hair on my chest.

I never really treated Todd badly, just the usual tackling,
pinning, tickling, and teasing.  I never was mean to him or
really hurt him--if I did, dad would see to it that my finely-
muscled, firm 17-year-old butt would be on fire.

Todd would tease me sometimes, "Hey Pete--you with the hairy
legs," he'd say, just to piss me off, but I'd just tease him
back.  I was not only jealous of Todd's younger, smoother body
and cute face, but it bothered me, how my leg hair looked real
coarse, and Todd's body peach-fuzz looked like rare silk--it had
an exotic shine that made his arms and legs look unreal, almost.
Unreal as in 'too cute to be true.'

I wasn't sure if I was gay or not--and I really didn't want to
know--but certain guys turned me on, just to look at them.  I
kept that pretty much a secret.  Problem is, my little brother,
Todd is one of the guys I'm attracted to, and the more time goes
by, the harder it is to hide that fact.

The one place dad liked to show off the fact that we had money
was the house.  It was big, had a swimming pool and other cool
stuff, and Todd and I had separate bedrooms, each with our own
bathroom and shower.  So, seeing younger brother Todd, naked, was
not really possible.  Except one day...

"PETE!  Hey, Pete!  I need a TOWEL!" Todd shouted from his
bathroom.

Normally I thought of a request from my little bro as a pain in
the butt, but this time, I knew he'd be naked.  After all, he'd
just asked for a towel.  I grabbed one and walked to his room as
quick as I could.  At first I was disappointed because his back
was turned.  I handed him the towel by dangling it on his
shoulder.  His back was beautifully shaped, and the look of his
butt made me drool.

"Thanks," Todd said in a nicer, softer voice than usual.

By then, I was glad his back was turned.  All I had on were nylon
shorts, and I was getting hard, fast.  I wanted to hang around
and see more of Todd, but I didn't want him to see me boning up,
so I turned and got out of his bathroom as fast as I could.

That evening, dad came home in a pick-up truck--very unusual.

"Dad," I said, meeting him in the driveway, "what's with the
pickup?"  That's when I noticed the lumber.

"Gonna fix up the attic like I always wanted," dad said.  "Come
on, help me carry this inside."

"Sure, dad," I said, noticing that dad did NOT say, 'Go get your
little brother Todd to come help us.'  Not that I expected him
to.  "Where are we gonna put all this?"

"That's easy, Pete," dad said smiling, "Todd's room is a straight
shot in, and we'll store all the materials there."

Dad was right.  Todd's room was at the end of the hall, so it
would be easy to slide the lumber in and out of his room.  I
wanted to ask dad if this meant Todd was temporarily going to
sleep with me, but I just couldn't mouth the words.  I valued my
privacy, especially my long jack-off sessions, where I stayed
naked and played with myself for hours, sometimes, before
unleashing my load.  I was way past sneaking under the sheets and
jerking off in fear.

Each of our rooms had a queen-sized bed, so room in bed wasn't an
issue, but that wasn't the point, as far as I was concerned.

"Where's Todd gonna sleep?" I asked, as if I didn't know the most
logical answer.  I'd no sooner asked it, when I realized this was
my chance to see my brother naked.  If his 14-year-old height was
any indication, he just might have a dick worth looking at.

"I thought Todd could sleep with you," dad said, "unless you feel
you really need your privacy."

Dad and I had had the sex talk a long time ago.  He was really
good with that.  I guess it was when I was 11.  Besides sex,
condoms, body hair, and the (soon to be) growth of my dick, he
explained about jerking off, and that all boys needed some
privacy so they could do that and not be hassled.  He said he
would always knock if I had my bedroom door closed, and that he
wouldn't come in without being given an ok by me.  At 11 years
old, I wasn't too knowledgeable about the subject, but what dad
said sounded nice.  He even explained about gay sex, and that
some guys liked girls, some liked guys, and some liked both, and
it didn't matter to him how I turned out, as long as I always
told him the truth.  I believed him, but I always figured that
he'd like me better if I got married and gave him grandchildren.
I had no way to be sure about that, but I felt it was better to
be safe than sorry.

Trouble was, now, at 17, I was liking guys more, and girls less.
I'd done my share of locker room bragging about girls I'd been
with, but so far, I've only had sex with my hand.  Not
surprising, really, with the way dad raised us.  I still felt
that if I got caught having sex (with boy or girl) or got a girl
pregnant, I'd get a beating I might not recover from--though deep
down, I knew dad would never go that far.  And he never did.

Dad and I were bringing the first load of lumber into the house.

"Hi, Pete," Todd said, quickly adding, "Dad--I see you got the
stuff."

Another moment of jealousy flashed silently inside me.  My little
brother Todd seemed totally informed about what dad was up to,
and I didn't, until dad had clued me in, just now.  I felt better
about it when Todd ran out to the truck and actually volunteered
to help carry in the next load of lumber.  I didn't want to be
left out, so I walked along behind Todd, as he and dad carried
the second load of materials into Todd's room.  This energized
Todd.

"Pete, this will be so cool!  Don't you think?" Todd shouted.

"Yeah, sure," I said, not knowing where the skinny little squirt
was really going with this.

"Yeah, Pete--we'll have a separate staircase up to the attic and
there's gonna be a huge room up there, we can--don't you think
that's sweet?"

"Sure, Todd," I said, again not knowing what Todd was thinking--
especially the part where he stopped short at 'we can,' and
changed to 'don't you think.'  I thought maybe I'd draw him out.
"So, um, what kind of stuff do you think we'll do up there," I
said to Todd, watching his face like a hawk.

Todd looked a little unsettled and said, "I'm not sure, Pete, but
we'll have fun."  He managed a little smile after that.

I smiled back.  "Yeah," I said, "I guess you're right, Todd,
we'll have fun up there.  We'll figure out something."

"Yeah," Todd said, perking up, "if you still wanna play some of
our old games."

"I'm glad you boys both agree," dad said.

The "old games" Todd and I used to play were semi-tolerable to
me, at best.  But I smiled anyway.  Besides, Todd was a little
more grown up, now, so maybe some of those games would be fun,
after all.

Please write me at Dom6789@hotmail.com.  I'm dying to write the
next chapter, but I'd really love your feedback, first.
Thanks.   --Pete

(I know it's monotonous, but I'll keep posting this notice at the
end of a chapter.)