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I told him I would love to spend the afternoon making out with him - and that I of course am a world-class kisser - but that certain things come with certain prices.

I told him I don’t just kiss fuckholes and flings, so if he wanted my tongue, he’d have to admit to both of us that we had entered a deeper stage of our relationship. And I gave him the perfect means to do just that.

I told him that if he wanted to kiss me, he’d become my boyfriend. And with that, we would be going away over thanksgiving together. If it all works out, as I believe it will, we’ll also be going out of town over Christmas - back to his family’s home. Let him show off a real man to the family for once.

And while we’re out of town celebrating the holidays, I told him I want You locked in Your crate - the small one. Chastity secured, of course, as well as locked mittens and two extra thick diapers sealed in locked plastic panties to hold in all the waste you accumulate. I’ll be sure to fill up several hamster feeders of my piss and other fun concoctions for you to suck down, and they better all be empty by the time we return from enjoying our holidays, otherwise I’ll leave you right where you are and fill them all up again until they are.

“Mark, seriously! You can’t talk to me like that. I’m your big brother and am entitled to some respect!”

That was a month ago. How much had changed in a month. One month since Chris had stood up to his monstrosity of a little brother after Mark had found all of Chris’ gay porn sites and told him exactly how he felt about “disgusting queers” and, now, consequently, how he felt about Chris himself. 

“You can’t talk to me like that. I’m your big brother and am entitled to some respect.” It was truly staggering - and would be hilarious, Chris thought, were he not the butt of the joke - how completely Mark had taken his words that day and in every conceivable way, proven them to be false. 

Mark had walked up to Chris; his 6′4 frame towering over Chris’ five foot, nine inches, until Chris, intimidated and scared, found his face so close to his brothers massive mounds of chest, that his nose actually dipped into the cavern his pecs created. He had to crank his head upwards, feeling stupid as he looked up to find Mark glaring down at him. 

“Shut the fuck up with this “little brother” shit. From now on, I’m the big brother around here. Every time you introduce me to someone, you will do so by saying, “this is my strong, superior, straight big brother Mark,” and any failure to do so verbatim will result in me putting you over my lap right then and there and pulling your pants down to spank you to tears and then you’ll do it again, this time, with your pants around your ankles and your little fag dick and bright red ass on display for all.”

“Furthermore,” Mark continued, “I don’t think your entitled to any respect at all. In fact, from this day forward, I’m going to make it my number one priority in life to see to it that you suffer as much disrespect and humiliation as humanly possible. I’m going to make your life miserable and push you lower than you can imagine, all for my own entertainment, and every time you hesitate to do something I have instructed, I’ll beat your ass as hard as I can, then make you do it anyway. I refuse to have a faggot as a brother! And since I understand there’s no way to get your faggot brain to stop thinking about dicks all day, I guess from now on i’ll have myself a little sissy sister. How does that sound, Chrissy?” 

Mark laughed to himself; a deep, malicious laughter that shook the room. Whether due to merely being overwhelmed at all that was transpiring at the behest of his newly minted Big Brother, or whether it was because Chris knew his brother meant every word of what he was saying, and attempted to appeal to the alpha male in a way he felt Mark would appreciate, Chris fell to the floor at his brothers feet and immediately started covering the tops of his brother’s rank size 14 feet with kisses as he begged him to reconsider. 

“Please, Mark, please! I’m sorry I’m a faggot. I know I’m nothing compared to you, and you’re right, I’m not a man. I’ll do everything i can do to make your life easier. I’ll do all your laundry. I’ll do all your assignments for Uni. I’ll run your errands. I’ll cook for you. I’ll be your total slave for life, just please Mark! Please have mercy on me. Don’t destroy my life. I don’t want to be “Chrissy” and I don’t want to be humiliated daily. Please, just let me take care of you and serve you? My, superior (kiss), straight (kiss) big brother (kiss).”

Mark looked down, smiling at the pathetic display before him. Without very much effort at all, he lifted one foot quickly, kicking Chris in the face as he did, causing Chris to spin around and land on his back, gazing up at his giant brother. Mark reached down with one long, massive arm and grabbed the tiny trio of Chris’s dick and balls through his shorts and began to squeeze them with all the strength he could muster; the veins in his gladiator-esque arm rising a god quarter inch and his bicep ballooning to it’s full 22″. “You forgot “strong,” Chrissy!” Mark continued to squeeze until Chris passed out.

And that is how, one month later, Chrissy found herself dab in the middle of anther agonizingly humiliating afternoon compliments of her big brother and on this occasion, one of his equally unsympathetic gym rat friends. 

Chrissy sat there in her frilly pink tank-top, 2 sizes too small that cut off a full inch above her belly button, along with an unbelievably small pair of hot pink, latex-looking booty shorts. Mark had required her to sell off all of her belongings that were worth anything and everything else - every article of clothing or anything remotely boyish - was donated to charity. All that Chrissy now owned were a few ridiculous and extremely humiliating girly outfits that Mark required her to wear everyday. Mark allowed Chrissy to keep her bank account open, as he enjoyed forcing Chrissy to spend all of her money on him much more than the idea of just taking it all for himself outright. Like today, Mark had made Chrissy accompany him and his friend Brian to the gym, where Mark made Chrissy go up to the reception desk as he towered above her and ask the large black gym employee to, “please update the credit card information on my strong, superior, straight, big brothers gym membership so that i may pay his bill every month, Sir?” The big, black gym employee looked up and shared and approving smile with Mark, before nodding and laughing to himself. “Sure thing, faggot. I’ll go ahead an upgrade your big bro to our most expensive package too, how does that sound,” he callously inquired. Chrissy felt so stupid and was already kept in a constant state of stress and panic, thinking how she was going to keep up with all of her big brothers financial demands, but, she simply managed a smile and said, “thank you very much, Sir.” She knew the consequences of not being the perfect pathetic sissy all too well. 

“Don’t you have something you’d like to ask the man, Chrissy?” Mark prompted, offering the gym employee and big “just you wait for this” smile as Chrissy took a deep breath and continued. 

“Oh, yes, thank You for reminding me, Big Brother Mark. Sir, I understand that a pathetic sissy faggot has no place inside a gym, because that is for real men like you and my big brother and his friends, but would it be ok if i sat here in the waiting room while the real men worked out and painted my nails?” 

“Hmmmm, i don’t know,” the gym employee toyed. “I don’t even think the reception area in the gym is a place for a faggot fairy like you. But i’m feeling generous. Tell you what, i was just about to order my lunch. Why don’t I put it on your credit card and i’ll allow you to sit over there and do your girly nails, sound good? Sit on the floor though, the chairs are for real men and women, got that?”

Chrissy turned 4 shades of red. She felt Mark beaming with pride behind her. “Thank you very much, Sir.” 

…..

On the walk from the gym to the spot Mark and Brian had decided they wanted to eat lunch at, Mark made Chrissy walk a good 100yrds in front of them, telling him to keep his newly pink-tipped fingers out at his sides and to swish his prissy butt in his tiny pink booty shorts so everyone could get a good laugh. The contrast between the two alphas, who had both decided to forego wearing shirts after the gym, allowing the sun to tan their impossibly perfect physiques, and the swishy, sissy Chrissy was like night and day. Mark had also told Chrissy that he expected her to perform a service to the community for the inconvenience of merely existing in it. He had stuffed a handful of small plastic bags into Chrissy’s purse and told her that she was to pick up every pile of dog shit she pranced by on their way to lunch. If Mark or Brian happened to see a single piece of dog shit that Chrissy had missed on their walk, she would suffer like she couldn’t imagine. By the time they got to the restaurant, Chrissy had 7 full baggies in her purse. 

…..

“Dude, there’s no way! He’s not actually going to do that, is he?” Brain exclaimed dumbfounded. Mark laughed harder than Chrissy had ever seen. His smile, a cruel mockery that dared Chrissy to disobey. Truth be told, Mark was curious himself. This was the single lowest depth he had forced upon his once big brother and he was giddy at the prospect of forcing him, now her, to debase herself on a full restaurant patio on a bustling sidewalk as he and his macho friend looked on.

Awwww fag, I know you’re starving and can’t afford to eat much with the high taxes you must pay Me.  But not only is it important that Master get bigger and stronger with all this food you pay for, but it allows Me to watch you suffer as I force you to watch me eat this while you beg for the crumbs-lol.

I don’t know why you’re prolonging your suffering, fag. I’ve told you, all you need to do is get on your knees before me and beg me to put you on my special fag diet, and you’ won’t have to worry about going hungry ever again. What’s that? Yeah, i know, it’s a pretty disgusting diet when the meal you look forward to all week is a can of the cheapest dog food available, but you really don’t have any options, except to keep starving lol. 

What? Oh, you’re ready? You’re so hungry you can’t go on? HAHA, great fag! Get to it then. Yes, right here. Get out of the booth, get on your knees and beg me right here. This is perfect! I’m going to devour these burgers and fries which will put my stomach in a position to kick off your new diet later tonight with a bang!

So since I’m going to be a bonafide American now, I figured I’d swipe this pair of underwear from you. You have to admit, I fill them out way better than your micro-peen ever did lol. I’m going to wear them all weekend long; to the gym, to bed, while sweating out in this 95degree heat, then you can come pick them up with the rest of your stuff on Monday. Oh yeah, you’re moving out.

I told MY fiancé that I didn’t want some loser beta hanging around, even if he was just cooking, cleaning and doing all the chores. Aww, don’t look so sad, we both know you’re not going to be able to help yourself and that you’re going to plant these ripe undies on your face rub your nub thinking of everything I’m taking from you and how cute your ex and I will look in our tuxes at our wedding!

BUFFET BIRTHDAY

Every year for the last two years it had been the same.

Your college roommate, who you had immediately fallen in love with upon walking into your dorm room, and who had immediately turned your faggot life upside down, had started this tradition.

In addition to making you drop out of school to focus 100% of your efforts on his education and future; doing his homework, attending his classes, cleaning His dorm room and donating 100% of your student aid and the money your parents send you, to fund his education and life. No more car for you. No computer. No tv. No smartphone. All sold for his benefit.

And thanks to his strict “no spending on the faggot” mantra, He’s taken you from an attractive, masculine looking and athletic build of 175lbs, to a total fem faggot weighing in at just 117lbs. The the only thing you’ve eaten in the last two years is his special recipe of fag mush - one cup of Oates, one cup of his alpha piss, and some of his protein powder - twice a day. Save for your birthday.

It wasn’t the thick diapers you were wetting yourself in, or your butt cheeks still stinging from the last spanking..

It wasn’t the embarrassingly babyish clothes you had to wear, or the high chair you get fed in now..

It wasn’t even the institutional restraints, or those big, poofy, padded mitts that rendered you completely helpless, or the chastity cage that gave them total control over you..

No, it was the moment you realized that not only have they made you -want- your pacifier, but the fact that they’ve made you -need- your pacifier, to deal with all of the infantile frustrations and feelings you have now.

That’s the moment you realize that they’ve won.

It’s real.

They have completely dominated you, both mentally and physically.

Why look at that.  It’s my ex-cash fag begging me for money.  I know it’s hard being homeless faggot but you begged Me constantly to ruin you and I agreed it was the right thing for you since you are a pathetic faggot.  I’m sure its hard living in the streets but just know that your ex-Cash Master is sleeping very well in the big ole house you had to deed to Me.

You paused suddenly and attempted to back up out of the bathroom amid a torrent of mumbled apologies compliments of finding your husbands boy toy sat on the toilet. He laughed and told you not to go anywhere and that he was finished. You averted your eyes as he stood up, still uncomfortable with this new experience between the two of you, and looked down at the Italian tile as he made his way to the vanity and admired himself.

“Hey, flush that, would ya?” he casually tossed out while tracing the razor sharp line of his jaw with one long, well manicured finger. You moved, relieved that the task gave you a purpose and that you were freed, momentarily anyway, from kneeling there feeling awkward and foolish. Your relief drained out,however, when the toilet bowl and it’s floating contents reminded you why the situation was so uncomfortable in the first place. Wanting to close this chapter of your morning as quickly as possible, you simply reached up and flushed as commanded, removing one aspect of the morning’s discomfort. “Thanks buddy,” he said, in a way that somehow made you feel even smaller. “Now, get behind me and get that face buried deep in my ass and get that tongue to work. I’m going to shave while I think about what I’d like to eat for breakfast.”

“Yes Sir….”

“And that’s when you came clean and confessed to him that You’d been giving me all your money for months and were totally fucked?”

“Yes Sir…”

“And then he broke up with you?”

“Yes… *sob* … Sir…”

“Hahaha! Now what?”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m so in debt, Sir. I have to move back in with my parents but then I’ll have to quit my job because I won’t be able to get there.”

“Because I made you sell your car for my trip to the Caribbean, right?”

“Yes Sir….”

“Hilarious. Well, if you’re totally broke I guess this is goodbye, faggot. Leave the door unlocked on your way out. One of my rich Cash piggies is on his way over to clean, drink some piss and worship some alpha feet. All the things you’ll never have the privilege of doing again haha.”

“Please Sir….”

“Oh alright. How much do you have left in that bank account?”

“$27, Sir. It’s… literally all I have.”

“PayPal. Now. All of it.”

“Yes *sob* Sir…..”

TEXT from Alpha:

We’re on our third bottle of vueve this afternoon, faggot! My buddy can’t believe how deeply I’ve ruined you all while thriving on your dime. Let’s show him! Send a pic of this week’s weigh-in along with last weeks to compare, and show us how that enforced hunger strike is working for you. Then send a screen shot of your account balance from your banking app.”

10min later:

Are my gym socks clean yet, cuck? No? Haha, ok then just keep sucking them and listen.

When your bf gets out of the shower, you’re going to suggest that he takes me to his high school reunion next weekend instead. Tell him he deserves to have a real man to show off to everybody. And while we’re there, you are personally going to move me out of my apartment upstairs and bring everything down here. When we get back, you can “surprise us” and say it didn’t make sense for me to keep paying rent when I was here so much anyway. Make up a little sleeping area in the hall closet and tell your boyfriend it’s more than enough space for you - you just want him to be happy. Tell him you think you should breakup - he already wants to - but you’ll keep paying the rent and bills and taking care of the chores. Sound good?