Date: Tue, 16 Dec 2008 19:30:55 -0800 (PST)
From: Chris Walker <king.kinght@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Brotherhood 2 (Revised)

This story contains gay sex and a loving
relationship of incest between a father and his
sons.  If this offends you or if it is illegal
for you to read such material, please leave this
site now.

All of the characters presented here are
fictional.  The presentation here of events and
characters is in no way is meant to portray
actual, historical persons and events.

If anyone is offended by the premise of the
story, or by explicit sexual acts, please do not
read any further.

Thanks to all of you who read The Brotherhood
and sent such great and encouraging words.  I
really love hearing from you.  Maybe deep in
your hearts, you are part of the Brotherhood
too.  Thanks again.

This is the second installment of The
Brotherhood.

The Brotherhood is a mystical mafia of men with
abilities that are said to be supernatural.  It
would shock the outsiders to know of the
shameless intimacy, love and discipline rituals
between father and son of the Brotherhood.  A
son is the property of his father and it is a
father's duty to initiate his son into
submission and, finally, into the secret
Brotherhood, itself.

To the outsiders, the Brotherhood is invisible;
completely unseen and unheard.  Most outsiders
would claim that such an organization does not
exist yet, the hidden power, wealth and
influence of the Brotherhood is frightening.
They are everywhere.

Last night, my dad began preparing me for my
Initiation, which begins tonight, on the eve of
my birthday.

     THE INITIATION - Part 1


     "Royce," I faintly hear someone calling me.
"Royce. It's time to get up."

     Lying face down, bare-ass naked on my dad's
bed, I roll over and slowly begin to wake.  I
can still taste the strong liquor dad made me
drink until he got me totally trashed.

     Opening my eyes, everything is blurry in
the morning light.   The room begins to come
into focus.  It's a mess. The empty liquor
bottle from last night is still on the floor and
there are hundreds of photographs scattered
about but dad promised . . . he promised that as
long as I obeyed the Brotherhood, those pictures
of me would be locked away.

     The room is still cold - freezing.  All is
quiet except for the wind outside and the light
taps of snow hitting the windows.  It's snowing
again.

     Dirk, one of dad's servants, is sitting
next me on the side of the bed.  He's been a
servant for my family since before I can
remember.  Always helped dad look after me and
my brothers.   He cooks for us, washes us,
cleans for us. He's dad's faggot when dad
doesn't want to use his boys

     "It's okay," says Dirk.  "Just take it easy
for a second."

     Dirk's chubby, always been chubby with dark
wavy hair. He's around the same age as dad.  His
face has a little 5 o'clock shadow and his sad,
large dark brown eyes have much kindness in
them.

     Like my father, Dirk is a full member of
the Brotherhood, but belongs to the Guardian
branch.  Women are not allowed to join the
Brotherhood nor are they allowed to raise the
sons of a Brother.  Sons of the Brotherhood are
raised by men only so loyal Guardians take the
place of mothers and help teach a son his place.

     I reach up and touch my sore eye.  I don't
have to see it to know dad gave me a good one
last night.  Just touching it feels tender.
Dirk pushes my hand away.  "That will only make
it hurt more," he says.

     Dirk gently slides behind me and helps me
into a sitting position.  As I sit up I feel
sore all over and my nipples hurt.  I run my
hand across my chest to them and find a gold
ring through each tit. After dad got me drunk
and knocked me out, he must have pierced them.

     "Your father always loves piercing his
boys' tits," Dirk says.  "I had to help him
pierce yours, though.  Even drunk and passed
out, you moaned and squirmed something fierce,
so he had me hold you down just incase you woke
up while he was working those little pink boys
over.  Must be more sensitive than your brothers
`cause your father didn't need any help to tag
theirs.  But everybody still had fun with you
last night.  The Agents and Brothers played with
you for hours.  Your dad told them how you like
eating and kissing ass so they all . . . "

     I ignore Dirk - the fucking idiot.  He's a
servant! What my dad does to me or my brothers
is none of Dirk's fucking business.  If dad
wanted me to know what he was going to do to me
he wouldn't have put me to sleep.

     And it's not Dirk's place to report on what
my father does.  I'm definitely going to tell my
dad.  I just hope dad will let me help him beat
this cock-sucker's ass.  I'll hold Dirk down
while my dad kicks his fat ass.

     As Dirk rambles on, I try to remember
everything that happened last night.

     I remember my dad looking across the room
to his fulllength mirror on the wall behind me.
"Spread your knees wider apart, boy," he
ordered.  He sat on the side of his bed like a
god with me down on my hands and knees between
his thighs.

     I moved my knees further apart.   Holding
me by the hair, dad rammed his cock deeper in my
throat then pulled back only to ram it back in.
As he fucked my mouth, I tasted his pre-cum and
swallowed it.  Fuck, I'm made from his cum
anyway, He was just putting more of himself in
me.

     Dad had given me a black eye but I kept
sucking his dick like ...  a faggot.  This is
what he wanted.  Humping my mouth was just a
break from beating me, giving my eye a chance to
blacken up.

     "Arch your ass so those pasty cheeks open
up and show that hole."

     I arched my back so my ass cheeks spread
open, exposing my hole.  The cold air slipped
inside me and made me shiver.

     "Yea," he grinned at the mirror behind me.
"That's how I want my boy to look.  I want you
to look like a faggot."

     Looking down at me he ran his thumb over
the bruise he gave me.   "You were such a cute
boy when you came home today.  Now, look at what
daddy did to you." He stared for a moment,
enjoying the sight of his work.   "Everybody's
going to see my boy with a black eye I gave
you."

     All fathers of the Brotherhood love to be
worshipped, and feared.  They love breaking
their boys.

     "You can fight back, boy.  We're just two
dicks alone in this room," he said.  But I knew
better.  My father would trash my ass.  I could
imagine him knocking me to the floor, then
sitting his big ass on my chest to pin me down
while he punched me black and blue, all the
while smiling.

"You can go to the police," he said. The
Brotherhood owns those losers. "You could run
away."

     And go where? Everyone I know is in the
Brotherhood. And where can I go without money?
Dad feeds us and gives us clothes.

     Sliding his cock out of my mouth, he lifted
me to my feet and hugged me.  "Your eye will
heal in a few days," he whispers in my ear
"Fuck, I could beat you unconscious tonight but
until you heal, I'm going love seeing you like
that -- seeing what I did to you."

     He presses his mouth to mine.  He slips his
tongue in my mouth until our tongues meet and
lick each other.   I'll do anything for him now.

     I lay my head on his shoulder as he softly
hums a song. It's a slow song; very slow and
erotic.  I've never heard it before but it's
almost hypnotic.  As he hums, dad slowly rocks
his hips from side to side, brushing his cock
against mine.  His big dick and balls swings
against mine making my dick get even harder.

     I move my hips in time with him, keeping my
dick close to his.  Dad slips his hand down,
over my ass and he pulls my ass closer so our
cocks press even harder against each other as we
slow dance together.

     My father is a definite white boy.  He
dances a little stiff and out of rhythm but I
love him.  I copy his moves and we dance our
naked father and son "white boy" dance together;
his bare feet stepping on mine and mine on his.

     "Dad, what if I don't do what the
Brotherhood wants? What if.   . ."

     "Then I'll help the Brothers finish you off
and toss your worthless white ass in the trash.
If you are not one of us, then you are nothing
to me."

     Dad dances me over to his bedroom bar and
grabs a bottle of liquor.  He twists off the cap
and tosses it to the floor for the servants to
clean in the morning.

     Then replacing his hand on my ass, he takes
a sip from the bottle with the other.

     He tilts the bottle to my lips and pours a
good bit of liquor in my mouth.  I cough as the
strong taste burns down my throat to my stomach.

     My father never allowed me to drink before.
None of my brothers ever touch any drug harder
than a joint every now and then and that was
only before we had to do a "show" for dad and
some of the Brothers he would invite over to the
house to watch us.  The joint just helped us to
relax.

     I barely finish swallowing before he puts
the bottle back to my lips and pours even more
this time.  "Come on," he whispers as he pours.
"Get drunk for me.   I want you fucked up
tonight."

     Dad pours a gulp in his mouth, letting some
of it spills over his cheek and down to his
chest.  He pulls my head forward to lick the
liquor off his chest.  I suck on his tit and
then bite his nipple.

     "That's it, boy," he whispers.  "We can do
whatever we want to each other."

     He tips the bottle to me.  I turn from his
tit and open my mouth.   He pours it in, more
and more until I start feeling clumsy and hot,
sweating and smelling like liquor.

     Dad takes a drink as I stumble and fall to
the floor. The room is spinning.  Dad looks down
at me and laughs.

     I must be wasted because the two CSS agents
from earlier today appear in the room, standing
on the other side of my dad's bed, watching us.
They are both dressed in long ceremonial robes
opened at the front to reveal their tits and
cocks.   On the bed are chains, handcuffs and
several needle syringes.  I close my eyes and
shake my head, trying to shake them away but
when I open my eyes, they're still there.

     "Dad, . . ."

     "Shhhhh," he says.  He lifts me to my feet.
I have to hang on to my father to keep standing.
Dad pours more liquor in me until I drink the
last of it.  He throws the empty bottle to the
floor.

     Holding me close to his chest, he whispers
in my ear, "tomorrow, we are going to put
something in you to help us control you.  We
have to get you ready for that.  The liquor will
help you to sleep through what we're going to do
to you tonight."

     He grabs me by the hair and pulled my head
up to look at him.  "Now go to sleep faggot." He
was so fast I didn't even see his fist coming..
.

"Royce." Dirk's voice brings me back to today.

     Dirk answers my unspoken thoughts.  "Now,
don't worry. You know he's been trained by the
Brotherhood not to leave any permanent marks so
you'll heal in a few days.   You've seen your
brothers naked after their Initiation.  Didn't
see any marks left on them, did you?"

     I've come to accept the Brotherhood can
read my thoughts so there's nothing I can hide
from them.   Without saying a word, I just
think, "Where's my dad."

     "He's on the phone with the General,"
answers Dirk "making sure everything's ready for
tonight."

     Everyone calls my grandpa, "General." He
retired from the service years ago but people
still refer to him by his rank -- everyone, that
is but me and my brothers and our cousins.  We
just call him "Papa."

     Papa's been married three times and had ten
sons including my father between his first two
wives.  My dad and his brother Zack were born in
the same year because Papa got both of their
mother's pregnant around the same time.

     I've met uncle Zack's mother.
Unbelievably, she owns a chain of daycare
centers throughout the city and quietly recruits
handsome young fathers and their sons for the
Brotherhood.  A suggestion from her gets a young
father and his son investigated by the CSS, the
security agency of the Brotherhood, for possible
membership.  She's not a member and never will
be but she loves the Brotherhood and what they
do to their sons.  It said hearing the stories
of a boy's initiation turns her on.

     I've never met my dad's mom though.   The
rumor is, after giving birth she tried to
blackmail the Brotherhood for more money;
holding Papa's newborn son hostage until she got
the cash.   She "vanished." Nobody's ever seen
her since.   Papa, of course, got his son back
and the police swept the matter under the rug.
The Brotherhood is very serious about its sons.

     "Come on," he says as he gently helps me up
from the bed.  "We've got to get you cleaned
up".  Dirk wraps my arm over his shoulders and I
lean on him as we walk to my father's private
bathroom.

     As usual, Dirk is dressed only in an old
bathrobe that's far too small for him, so it's
open exposing his flabby chest.  Dirk, like all
the Guardians, has tits with large nipples.  His
legs and feet, like his body, are fat. Dad has
slapped him around a few times in front of us
just to show his boys, that he has power over
Dirk too.

     But Dirk's loyalty to my father is eternal.

     I don't know how many times Dirk has held
me or one of my brothers down while dad thrashed
or belted us around.  He loves helping my dad
discipline us.  Dirk is my father's servant and
would do anything for him.

     Lars and Holten, two new guardians my
father bought a few years ago, join us in the
bathroom.

     They fill the tub with water and powder.  I
don't know what the powder is for but . . .

     "It'll take away some of your soreness and
make your skin whiter," says Dirk as he lowers
me into the tub.

     Dad doesn't spend a lot of money on the
guardian's clothes and guardians can't have jobs
outside of the home so Lars and Holten are
dressed in old cut-off jeans that barely cover
the crack of their ass.  And because he's
sitting on his chubby fat ass on the side of the
tub, Dirk's small bathrobe is drawn up exposing
his cock and fat legs. Guardians were abandoned
as children and bought by the Brotherhood from
their orphanage.  The Brotherhood took them and
raised them to be servants.

     They are given food, limited education and
shelter. They serve without question.

     "Your father has received some wonderful
gifts," says Dirk.   On a son's birthday, his
father is showered with gifts and praise, not
the son.  Praise is given to the creator, not
the creation.

     I can hear my dad coming back to the room.
He's on the phone with my brother Boomer.  I'm
not jealous but it just reminds me I'm not his
only son and I've heard he might have other sons
from other women.  Me and my brothers have never
met his other boys but he spends time with his
other boys and their guardians from time to
time.  Most of the advanced "Brothers" have
several "families" and the more sons a father
has to offer the Brotherhood, the more respected
he is.

     My brothers are at Papa's house and I know
they're having a great time.  His mansion is
huge with a full-size bowling lane in the
basement, a poolroom, game room, library and
theatre.  Papa is super-rich.

     He's never given me, my brothers or cousins
any reason to fear him, but everyone that meets
Papa is scared to death of him.  Even my mother
grows stiff as a board with fear whenever he
enters a room.

     His new wife, Clem has never had children.
She's a southern belle and very religious with
lots of fake bleached blond hair piled high on
her head.  She's always in the news for her
humanitarian work.  She loves the publicity.
Clem and Papa are even the vice-presidents of
the National Committee of the Religious, Just
and Proper Moral Standards and huge fund-raisers
for several political figures.

But when my cousins, my brothers and I stay at
Papa's house, just like at home, Papa keeps us
bare ass naked.  He likes us to "perform" for
him and his senior Brotherhood guests like
ambassadors, a few prime ministers and
presidents.  We serve their drinks and they slap
us on the ass, jerk our cocks or pinch out tits.
With the older boys that have been initiated,
the "Brothers" can take them off to a side room.

     Later in the night, the "Brothers" gather,
sit back in their seats and tell us what they
want us to do to each other.  Most times, they
just want us to dance for them or suck each
other.  A few times, they held "cock fights."
The Brothers love those where they make two of
us boys fight while they sit back with a cold
brew and watch.  Naked and bare feet, we boys
slap each other around and kick each other's
ass.  The Brothers will edge us on, shouting,
"trash that fucker." They'll let us beat each
other until one of us is left unconscious on the
floor.  They love seeing us fight for them.  I'm
not the best fighter in the world so usually I'm
the one taking the beating but me and my cousin,
Andy, had to fight for them once and I beat him
up pretty good for them.

A boy must learn to never be afraid to get
beaten.  Concern for himself is second to
serving the Brotherhood.

Clem has even 'accidentally' walked in on a
couple of our "shows." "Why, kindly pardon me,
gentlemen," she said in her most apologetic tone
as she closed the door behind her and raced
away.  Clem loves Papa's money too much to raise
a fuss.  That's if she cared which she doesn't.
I think she likes seeing our shows but women are
not allowed. Besides, even if she didn't like
it, Papa is not a guy you cross.

Dad finishes his call and comes into the room
dressed in a full-length royal satin robe.  His
feet are bare and he's smiling.

     "Once these fucker gets you ready," says my
dad, "We'll head to the Temple."

     He comes over, lowers himself so he can
stare directly into my eyes.  The bottom of his
robe separates and smoothly slides down the side
of his thighs revealing his dick.  Even relaxed
it's still pretty big.

"Don't have any dignity or shame out there.
You're nothing.  Understand me."

     "Yes sir."

     "Good boy."

     "Clean him good -- inside and out," orders
my father. "And shave him. When I come back in
this room, he better be ready to go." Dad leaves
the room to dress as Dirk takes a nozzle in his
hands.  "Lay back and pull your knees up to your
chest," he says.  As I do, he slides the nozzle
inside me.

     Later, he takes a razor and begins shaving
me.  I don't have a lot of hair but the little I
do have, he shaves off.

     I'm allowed to dress in only a pair of
faded blue jeans cut offs; no shirt, no socks or
shoes.

Dad rushes back in the room.  "We have to go.
Papa's less than five minutes away."

     Grabbing my hand, dad takes me down the
stairs to the door and stops as Dirk racing
behind him, helps him put on his coat.  I reach
for my coat but Dirk pushes my hand away.
"Unless you pass your initiation, your father's
not going to waste clothes on you."

     He then pulls me close and whispers in my
ear, "They'll give you what they want you to
wear.  Don't ask for or take anything but what
they give you.  I don't want to see you end up
being finished."

     Lars, another one of my dad's servants,
opens the front door for us as Grandpa's
extended model Rolls Royce pulls up in front of
the house.  Two black escort SUV's packed with
agents are with him.  One SUV is in the front of
his car and the other is behind.

The cold air sweeps into the house.  I follow my
dad out into the snow.  It's chilly and damp
against my bare feet.  I cover my bare chest
with my arms.  One of the Agents gets out of the
front door of the Rolls and pops open the back
door as dad and I rush in.  I sit between my
grandpa and my dad.

     Papa's hair is totally gray and white.  His
eyes are a cool clear green and he has a
perfectly trimmed white mustache.  He's dressed,
as always, in his crisp white suit and white
leather shoes.

     I greet Papa with a kiss on his lips.
"Hello Roycey," he says with a smile.

     Dad gets in and exchanges a quick kiss with
his father. My father grins like a kid on his
birthday whenever Papa is around.

     From behind, I hear two loud clicks.  I
turn and there are two more agents sitting in
the extended section of the Rolls behind dad,
Papa and me.  Their bald heads and pencil thin
mustache-goatee makes them look frightening.

Papa looks over my black eye.  "Who gave you
that, Roycey?"

     I shrug.  "Dad."

     Papa smiles.  "Good.  Very good.  You know,
Roycey" Papa says as we drive along "Tonight is
a special night but turning 14, 18 or 21 means
little.  What matters is a man knowing where he
belongs."

     Papa takes a long draw of his cigar.  The
car is silent as we wait for him to speak.  He
exhales cigar smoke and then continues.

     "Now, a man is both male and female but a
woman is only female so there's a part of a
man's soul that only another man can understand.
A woman can't make a man by herself. Mentally,
she can't.  Genetically, she can't.  It was your
father that gave you a dick, boy.  He gave you
brothers.  He even gave you a name so you did
not create yourself.  You did not make yourself
a man."

Papa stares at his cigar for a moment.  He
flicks the ash before speaking again.

"It would be irresponsible," continues Papa,
"for any father not to guide his son or not to
let his son explore his own soul and body with
his father.  You learned much about your own
body last night by exploring your father's."

     I nod yes.

     "Only the outside man is stupid," says
Papa.  "He allows someone else to tell him what
to teach his son and how to touch his boy.
Fucking idiots! Some of them even fear the love
of their boy.  Afraid of the lust it may bring
out of their own heart.  But what the outside
man runs from, we embrace.

     Some call us male supremacist as we are.
In the Brotherhood, we are proud to be men and
we allow each other to be who we are.  We make
our own laws, work for each other, pool our
wealth and strength and as Brothers, we protect
each other.  You will never be poor, Roycey.
Never alone.  Never homeless.  Together, we
ensure our survival and create the future.

     Join us and you will work your way up the
ranks, learning first to serve and be bruised
and give everything to your Seniors.  Only when
you have showed that you will hold nothing from
us will we teach you to rule and show you all
the ancient secrets.  You will have powers you
can't even imagine now.

     But every man must decide his path so you
don't have to join us if you don't want to."

     I begin to speak as Papa cuts in, "Think
about it, for this will be the last time you can
choose to leave us.  The Brotherhood is not a
club where you can come and go as you please.
Once you make a commitment, it is binding.  Do
you want to join us, Roycey?"

     "I don't have to think about it, Papa.  I
want to join the Brotherhood.  I have no
doubts."

     Papa smiles.  "I know.  Your father always
does well in preparing his boys."

     From behind, again I hear clicks.  As I
turn, I see the Agents putting the safety back
on their guns.  For the first time, they smile
at me as they slide their guns back into their
holsters.  Only now do I remember that once the
Brotherhood extends an invitation to join them,
you either join or . . .  No man leaves the
Brotherhood.

     I look to Papa.  He smiles and winks at me.
"You chose wisely."

My dad reaches over and slides a blindfold over
my eyes.  He secures it so tight that I can't
see a speck of light.

     "Don't be afraid, Roycey," continues Papa.
"Since you are not yet a Brother, you can not
see the way to the Temple.  And to join us, you
must trust us even above yourself.  Yes, we will
bruise you -- sometimes for your own good --
sometimes just because we enjoy seeing you beg
and suffer.  To join us, you will suffer for
us."

Taking my hands roughly, my dad pulls them
behind my back and ties them together.

     "Roycey tonight is crucial." Says Papa,
"If, for even one second, we doubt your
conviction to us, we will finish you.  We would
have no choice to do otherwise.  You understand
this."

     "Yes sir."

     When dad is finished with my hands, the two
CSS agents in the back reach over the seat.
Taking me under the arms, they pull me up and
over the seat.  As they do, my dad and papa,
hold my ankles.  They hold my feet over the
shoulder of their seat as the agents lay me down
in the back.  In this position and with my hands
tied, there is no way I can get up or defend
myself.

     "We're going to place two very tiny
implants in your tits, Roycey," says Papa.
"They will help us keep tabs on you and control
you.  We'll be able to make you do anything we
want."

     One of the agents begins to smother me with
a smelly rag.  The fume from the rag instantly
makes me dizzy.  The other agent removes the
piercing in my nipples.

     "Don't worry.  No matter how much pain we
cause you, our doctors will heal you and you'll
be just as beautiful and healthy as you are now.
Just trust us," Adds Papa.

     As I start to black out, I feel dad kiss my
feet as he says, "I love you, boy." Then he says
to the agents "Put those implants in him and
make his little pink tits bleed."

     Just before passing out, I feel two cold
metal pins pinch my nipples, inserting the
implants.

NEXT "THE INITIATION PART 3"

I would really like to hear from you so if you
like this story or have any constructive
comments, please write me and tell me if you
would like to hear more. King.kinght@yahoo.com.
The actual email address is King dot kinght at
yahoo.com.  The word knight is spelled
differently because it actually spell king
followed by the "h" and "t." This is a spelling
that has a different meaning, which will be
explained in the next version.