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From “Bro” to Sissy Sub

My friend Magnus and I have known each other most our lives. We met in pre-K, when we lived a block and half from each other. Our families were close and we grew up side-by-side. We knew each other so long; we referred to each other as “brother.” Magnus is only four months older than me, but that’s not the reason he always called me “little bro.” We had no other siblings and stayed close through childhood, went to college together, and married fraternal twin sisters, Flora and Nora.

While the twins were nearly identical, Magnus and I couldn’t be more different. He was a giant 6’4″ he-man, built like a lumberjack; and… I the exact opposite, a diminutive 5’6 1/2″ with delicate features. In our last year in college, Magnus introduced me to Flora; he had his eye on Nora, but the twins sort of came as a set, so he asked me to be his wingman.

Though similar in looks, the twins had different personalities: Flora was quiet and reserved; Nora was lively and outgoing. These traits fit in perfectly with our (Magnus and my) dispositions. He was the outgoing, captain of the soccer team, big man on campus, always the ultra-social ladies’ man. I was a dweeb, a nerd, who hid in my dorm room, playing online RPGs. I didn’t really hang out with Magnus through most of college; his jock friends intimidated me, and he was kind of jerk to me when they were around.

Through high school, I had to stick close to Magnus for protection. College was less fraught, and we could each do our own thing, but stayed in touch. Magnus was in a frat and had lots of friends; I had two friends, as nerdy as me.

We met Nora and Flora senior year and started spending more time together again. It was clear right away that he and Nora were serious, but Flora and I–both quiet and reserved–took longer to get acquainted and form a relationship.

Nora and Magnus put pressure on us–Magnus on me, and Nora on Flora–to keep our relationship going. They had this romantic notion of the “brothers” (as we thought of ourselves) and sisters ending up married “happily ever after.” Partly due to this pressure and partly by recognizing our similarities, Flora and I did get serious. Magnus and Nora got married right after graduation. Flora and I took another year.

After college, Magnus and Nora moved to the city, and Flora and I to the suburbs, and we again drifted apart; we’d see each other occasionally, but not like before. We would have the odd Sunday dinner at our place or go out with them in the city on a Friday or Saturday night. Their outgoing personalities would drag us out of our homebody shells, and we had fun with them.

We settled into married life over the next six years. Until tragedy struck: driving home late from work one night, Nora was killed in a head-on collision. She died instantly, as did the drunk driver, who ran into her. We were all shell-shocked, but Magnus and Flora were totally devastated; he was nearly inconsolable. It seemed Flora was the only one with whom he could truly share his grief.

He began spending more and more time with us, until he more or less lived in our small guestroom. He and I were still close, but I knew Flora (his lost love’s twin sister) was the real object of his attention. I never really thought much about their closeness, as they were both so distraught by Nora’s death. Flora was so blue; she would spend days without speaking, almost catatonic; only Magnus could bring her out of it. I’d try, but Nora and I were never particularly close; Magnus would divert her with memories of Nora, and they’d weep privately.

It had been three months after Nora’s death. For more than two of them, Magnus spent at least three a week with us, and Flora sometimes stayed with him after work, in the city. I didn’t ponder this too closely at the time. She would call teary and unstable and say he was distraught and couldn’t be left alone. I would offer to join them, but she would wave me off, saying it was unnecessary, and I trustingly relented.

Then… one night, everything changed.

It was a Friday, and Magnus had come home in a manic upbeat mood. He brought dinner from our favorite city restaurant and two bottles of our favorite wine. He wanted, he said, to thank us of for the hospitality, letting him stay with us, and me for kindly “sharing Flora.” He announced he had bought a house around the corner and was selling the downtown condo.

We were all happy with the news, I was glad to have Magnus permanently nearby, and yet out of our guestroom. And it was nice to see some of his garrulous energy back. We had a great dinner and drank down both bottles of wine, and Magnus and I moved on to Scotch. I was not used to drinking like this, and nearly blacked out in bed, next to Flora who had preceded me.

I awoke hours later, around midnight, groggy and with an urgent need to urinate. Flora’s side of the bed was empty. I saw a sliver of light under the door of the ensuite, assumed Kartal Escort she was in there, and walked out to the guest bath on the opposite end of the hallway by the guestroom. I tiptoed into the bathroom so as not to wake Magnus and closed the door behind me. As I was waiting for my pee stream, I thought I heard something like a faint mewling.

I peed and flushed, but in the ensuing silence, as I was about to walk out, I heard it again, then a mumble, like maybe Magnus snoring or talking in his sleep. Between the guestroom and our bedroom were the hall bath, my home office (formerly the larger guestroom) and a narrow storage room. I walked back to my bedroom and found the ensuite door still closed with the light on and knocked softly on the door to see if she was okay.

I worried the wine had made her nauseous, though she actually had very little. Magnus and I had drunk most of it. In fact, as I recall, Magnus had made sure my cup was never empty, so I might have drunk most of the wine, and then he insisted on Scotch; teasing me for being such a lightweight.

Not getting an answer, I opened the ensuite door, to find it empty. Curious where she might be, I went back out in the hallway, where the mewling was a little louder. I walked up to the guestroom door, from where I could now clearly hear a moaning and humming. I knocked softly on the door, still cluelessly thinking Magnus must be talking in his sleep, but I noticed the light in the room and knocked again, a little louder.

“Yes!?” Magnus answered from inside in a somewhat irritated, but alert tone.

As I walked into the room, I nearly fainted from the shock of what I saw. Magnus sat on the edge of the small single bed naked, his muscular legs spread wide; my beautiful wife was on her knees in front of him, also naked, her hands tied behind her back with a thin rope. His massive cock rammed down her throat.

As she sensed my entrance, she instinctively moved, as if to back away and off her knees. But he had a belt around her neck and used it as leash to keep her in place, kneeling deferentially with his dick down her throat.

“I didn’t say you could stop sucking my cock, slut!” He sneered at my sweet angelic wife, as he pulled her by the belt back toward his crotch.

“Uhmmm, gluggg, ummgug, glug, mhmh, hmm,” she hummed and gurgled in an apparent apology to the brutal monster.

I was enraged, devasted, and confused; I felt betrayed, heartbroken, sad and wounded. I assumed he must be forcing her into this. I thought, maybe losing Nora had done something to his psyche, to change my best friend into a rape fiend. I didn’t consider my response long or very well, but ran headlong to protect my wife from her assailant.

You should know: my entire life, I had one fist-fight; it was with Magnus–before puberty turned him into a hulking behemoth, leaving me a skinny little twirp–when we were about the same size. Even then, Magnus thoroughly kicked my ass. Since then, I had avoided fights because Magnus was my protector. Bullies might try me, but only until Magnus showed up, and then they’d run scared, which is what I should have thought about before charging at him.

I got as close as literally his arm’s length; he reached out, grabbed me by the throat, and held me off, without ever losing a grip on Flora’s leash. I flailed at his arm, but could go no further; I didn’t have the reach; with my arms extended, my fingertips just grazed his biceps. Then, I had to concentrate on prying his tightly gripping fingers from around my delicate thin neck.

“Settle down, little bro! I’ll explain, but you’ll have to settle. You can just stop, or I can choke you unconscious and tie you up. It’s up to you, little bro.”

“Whaghth, thhhha, fuucckkkk, duhude?!” I grunted still tearing at his fingers to loosen his death grip. I was gasping for air and running out of steam to do anything else, when I gradually gave up.

“Okay!?” He demanded; I was still fuming, but my body was out of energy.

“Hhhmmpphh!”

“Kneel down right here, next to the lovely wifie.” Magnus intoned magnanimously, but still maneuvering me by the throat. He pushed me down, so I was following his orders without much volition. “Drew, put your hands behind your back, like the Mrs.”

He placed me there, while somewhat releasing Flora’s leash, leaned down behind me, and tied my hands in place, while I gasped for breath after nearly being choked out. I looked over at her; she was moaning quietly, suckling the head of his huge cock as if it was a giant pacifier. I couldn’t believe it: she was doing this voluntarily!

Flora and I had never had much of a sex life. I felt she didn’t enjoy it, and saw it more as her “wifely duty.” This had not been as big a problem for us as you might imagine; I had no sexual experience other than Flora and had nothing to compare it to. My interest in sex had always been muted. Before her, I had never had any contact with girls. Tuzla Escort I felt Flora didn’t enjoy sex, so I didn’t press her and our few sexual encounters dwindled to zero. I would occasionally masturbate in the shower, if I felt horny, but even that was exceedingly rare.

Magnus was very different in this regard, and I gathered Nora had been as well. When they would stay over, sleeping in the closer guestroom, we could hear them going at it all night.

Over the years I had, of course, caught glimpses of Magnus’s penis, in showers, etc., but I had never seen it either as closely or in its fully erect state. I knew it was big, much much bigger than mine, but looking at it now as he pulled it out of my wife’s mouth, I couldn’t believe a human penis could really be this big.

My fully engorged penis (not always achievable) is less than three inches long and about the girth of a baby carrot. His manly cock is more than three times, maybe four times as long and the girth was more like large a cucumber–to stay with the vegetable metaphor. As I pondered this, I was surprised to find myself thinking more about his cock, just then, than the fact that I had just walked in on my best friend with his very large penis buried down my wife’s throat.

“Magnus! How could you do this to me?!” I croaked, when I finally had enough air and consciousness to get the words out.

“Poor Drew, little bro. I know it’s bad, I do; and I am so soo sorry this is how you found out. It’s not what I wanted; I thought you’d be out cold until morning, like last time. I wanted tell you, but really… no way would have been good, am I right? Ha ha ha! Little bro… sorry… you’re my best friend, and I didn’t want to hurt you for the world, but sometimes it’s impossible to stop what the heart wants; no one and nothing can stop it.”

I turned to Flora who finally had her mouth free and regained her breath, though I still saw the belt taut around her neck, and her puffy teary eyes flooding her bright red cheeks.

“Drew, I’m sorry; it’s not just Magnus. I hate how we betrayed you, but I haven’t been happy for years. I love you, honey, but we have no sex, and I’ve been so lonely. The couple of months, I’ve learned about bondage and submission from Magnus, and I like it, Drew. I enjoy Magnus’s big cock. You’re so teeny, and have such trouble getting aroused; I never enjoyed it with you. I knew so little; I thought that was how it was and had to live with it.

“It seemed like I wasn’t interested in sex, but I couldn’t hurt your feelings. When Nora died, I felt a bond with Magnus for what we had lost. Submission was something I could give him to help his grief, and… I could get what I’ve needed for so long. I’m very so… ugph.”

He stopped-up her mouth mid apology with his huge cock, which she happily swallowed, smiling and moaning as she lunged for it. He gave her some slack on the belt and she pleased herself bobbing her lips over just the head and licking round and round it like it was a lollipop. He pulled her off it and she gasped for it, but he nudged her down with the belt and tightened his grip on it. His cock jutted out like a fat lance, waving on its own volition.

“Look Drew, I’ve thought about this: we can work this out. You don’t have to lose her completely; it may sound crazy, but we can make it work. All I want from her is sexual submission. I don’t need the domestic life; and you don’t fuck her, anyway.

“It’s a waste of a gorgeous subslut, letting her rot on a shelf. She’s not happy, and is willing to leave you to get what she needs. So, if you’re not willing to share, you’ll definitely lose her.”

As he said all this, he let his big cock slide out of her mouth, and it was bobbing up and down as he gesticulated with his free hand, while still holding Flora’s leash with the other. She was licking her lips seductively and mewling quietly.

“Maybe we can come to an agreement. Though… I hadn’t put this together before… but…, over the years, I’ve noticed some traits that have made me think you may be a sub too… You like looking at my cock, don’t you, little bro?”

Until he said this, I was unaware I had been staring at it with my mouth open. I also noted an uncomfortable feeling in my tighty-whities as my shy little pecker began to swell. As I wriggled to get the my peenie into a more comfortable position, Magnus, looking down at me from the edge of the bed, noticed.

“Or… maybe… you’d like to watch, hmmm, as I dominate your wife and fuck the shit out of her?!”

“Uhrmph… what… uhrg?” I tried to deny his implications, but was tongue-tied by circumstances.

“Drew, little buddy! Take off your clothes!” He said, in a kind, but authoritative tone that brooked no resistance, while he untied my hands.

I obeyed, without thinking, as if it were the most natural thing to do, still somewhat dazed by the situation. I took off my t-shirt, leaning in toward his delicious looking Anadolu Yakası Escort beast, which gave me a whiff of his musky man scent. Once I sniffed it, I tried to take in as much as I could before leaning back away from the giant that had been battering my wife’s throat.

Despite every other factor, it was getting all of my attention. I was down to my tighty-whities, and he looked down at me, and nodded. I tried to stand up, but he kept me down, his hand gently but firmly pushing down on my shoulder. I took my underwear down to my knees, then wiggled them off one knee at time while staring at his big fat cock. Another dose of that manly musky smell made me woozy. The word that came to my mind was delectable.

“Okay, little bro. Now, do you want to watch your slut wife suck my big dick? Or, go back to your bed right now?”

He was peering down at my erect little thing. I very slowly shook my head, trying to say NO, I didn’t want to watch, but staring at his cock the whole time. I was betrayed by my pee pee, when it spasmed up and down, as if answering for me. He wasted no time; taking my penis’s word for it, he shoved his big fat juicy cock back down my willing wife’s throat again. She was instantly humming and moaning, and making guttural gurgling sounds–urmmph, urggh–with the big cock driving down her throat, as he steered her with the belt/leash.

The whole scene made the embarrassment of my penis even worse. It was now standing at full attention, an unusual event. Normally, I’d get modestly hard, but a shift in position, say, from getting a two-finger-job from Flora, to trying to get it into her vagina, would make it go half limp. And… when it did get hard, after just little manipulation, I would ejaculate. He pulled back on Flora’s belt/leash harshly until his cock was once again out of her mouth.

“Drew, admit it; you really like this, don’t you?” I nodded my head reflexively. “Kiss your wife, little bro?”

I definitely wanted to, but I was still in desperate denial. My wife, licked off the head of his cock, covered with slime and pre-cum and turned toward me. For the first time, I saw how her big beautiful tits were covered in splatter built up from blowing him. She was making kissing faces at me and showing me her open mouth filled with their slobber.

I was fighting against arousal and desire; I wanted to be furious, vengeful… But I gave up and leaned in and kissed her. I could smell and taste his cock on her breath and lips. I licked up as much as I could, and found myself kissing my wife more passionately than I ever had. She too was kissing me back with great passion, until he suddenly pulled back on her reins and yanked her away from me. I was left gasping like a carp out of water.

“That’s enough, Drew. I know you are loving the taste of my cock on her. You like that, don’t you. Oh, little brother! I so wish I had known this about you before; you have wasted so much time and energy and so much of this slut’s happiness pretending to be something you’re clearly not. How could I have missed it. You’re not really a man, are you, little buddy?!

“Relish that kiss, little sissy Drew, it’s the last you’ll get from her for a while. Now that I know what you truly are, just listen to me, so you can get what you need and ultimately… want. Don’t worry about making any more decisions. Just trust me, you will be happier in the end. Promise me you will do whatever I say, from now on, and everything will be okay.”

“Yes, Sir.” I answered weakly.

“What are you agreeing to? Say it out, little bro?”

“I promise to do what you say, Sir.”

“C’mon… let’s go to the master bedroom so we can all be a little more… comfortable.”

We moved into master bedroom; Magnus ducked in and out of the hallway bath to get “supplies,” which turned out to be a bag with assortment items BDSM.

In the bedroom, he positioned her on the bed and strung her limbs to each corner of our four-poster bed with twine from the bag. He cooed at her, suggesting terribly nasty things he intended to do to her, but in the most sugared seductive tones.

“After I fuck your filthy fucking cunt hole, I’m finally going to rip open that tight little nasty shithole of yours, whore!” He chanted sweetly.

“Ummm, ummm, please, Sir, open up my tight asshole for your big fat cock, Magnus!”

He slapped her face relatively hard, and she cooed back at him, “I’m sorry, Sir! Thank you, Sir!”

“Slut, that dildo I gave you for practice. Where is it?”

“Bottom right drawer that dresser there,” she pointed with her chin. It was the first I heard of this dildo.

He had me rummage through the drawer until I found what he wanted. I assumed he intended to use it on her, but he suddenly turned to me. He had the dildo and a thin belt with him.

“Come here, cucky little sis.” I gave up resisting and followed his instructions, as he had me kneel on the chest at the foot of our bed, wrapped the belt around my neck and twisted it onto the bottom right bedpost, facing my spread-eagle wife, who was beside herself with lust and excitement; she was rolling her hips side to side trying to squeeze her open pussy together, all smiles, as she watched him lock me into the post with the belt.

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