Jesse — A Nightmare of Gay Teen Incest & Abuse

Copyright, 2012, Patricia Steel ([email protected])

Do whatever you want with this story, only keep my name attached, please. Please report any and all orgasms arrived at through reading and masturbating to these words. I love knowing that I am deliberately manipulating your mind into an erotic state. This story is to be considered “Fiction” although it has its basis in “Fact”. This is not to be considered a true tale of underage sex, statutory rape, or molestation, as these events happened more than a quarter century ago. Some of the principal parties are no longer living. The only reason I’m telling you that it has its basis in truth, is it might make it all the more sexy for you, and maybe make your orgasms better/stronger/faster. Thank you, and enjoy.

I asked Jesse for his permission to write this story. He granted it, without a problem, and, while some of the scenes are “fleshed out” with fantasy, the basis of this tale lies in the realm of truth. This is a “sexy” story for many of us, who are turned on by “on the edge” topics like incest and gay rape, but we must realize the psychological and physical damage that was done to Jesse, and pledge to ourselves and our children that such abuse will NEVER happen in our own homes. If we can do that, then we can enjoy stories like this, while at the same time raising awareness of these sorts of situations where sexual abuse by siblings occurs frequently, and in the most severe ways imaginable.

PART 1

Jesse was the youngest of three brothers. There was also a sister, but she was just a baby when our tale begins. That in itself protected her from the sorts of abuses that Jesse suffered at the hands, and cocks of his brothers.

Until his oldest brother turned 12, everything was pretty much normal between the three brothers. It had been commonplace in their house, ever since any of them could remember, for the three of them to get their baths together. Then, the oldest brother, Roy, wanted to shower alone, instead. That was fine. Jesse and his middle brother, Brad, still bathed together. Brad was about 10, then, and Jesse, 7, or so, give or take.

I’m writing this from Jesse’s memoirs, told to me over a lifetime. Don’t be too critical of me if I make a mistake here or there with the math, or something similar. I’m just happy to get the events right.

Everyone noticed that Roy would take forever in the shower. Their dad, ultimately, started timing him, and, if he was in there more than 30 minutes, he went into the basement, and turned the hot water off.

These were really poor people, barely surviving on their father’s disablity, and his little odd jobs here and there, plus the little money that their mother earned cleaning houses and such for other people. In the area that they lived, and still live in today, there simply are no jobs to be had. You don’t find a job, you create one for yourself, doing something or other that earns a little money.

Thus, they could not afford 1 hour long hot water showers regardless.

Soon after this, Roy’s abuse of Jesse began. The three boys slept in the attic bedroom, together. Up there, the temperatures were ridiculously hot in summer. They had a fan, but no air conditioner. Three single box-springs with matresses on the floor, pushed together into one huge bed was their sleeping arrangement, with room at the top of their beds for their personal stuff. Jesse had the middle “bed”. When the temperature up there reached near 100 degrees in summer. The only way to sleep was to strip naked, and feel the breeze from the fan on their sweating bodies. Thus, the boys got into the habit of sleeping naked during the hot weather. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t seen each other naked before, in the bath, but Jesse did notice some changes in Roy. He had gotten more hair under his arms, and down by his cock. He looked stronger, too. His cock looked huge, even though it hung down halfway to his knees, limp just like his own, and Brad’s did. Jesse figured he’d look like that some day, as he resembled Roy in almost every way.

One night, he caught Jesse looking at him lying there, “What the fuck you looking at, little faggot??”

“Um.. Nothin Roy.. It’s just that you look, um.. kinda different than you used to.” Jesse sputtered out in his own defense.

“No Shit, idiot. It’s called being a man, faggot. Something you know nothin’ about. You look this way, when it’s time to fuck girls. When you’re ready to start fucking. Do you know what fucking is, faggot?” Roy continued to abuse Jesse verbally, now getting up on his knees.

“Fucking, yeah… It’s what you do to have babies and shit….” Jesse tried his best. Both Roy and Brad laughed at this.

“Do you want me to show you what fucking is, little faggot?? Roy almost sounded genuinely pleasant in this last request, and Jesse was thinking he had some magazines, or some movie, or something in mind, so Jesse foolishly said, “Yeah, show me!!”

Like a Vampire, you never invite a bully into your “home” — once you do, you can never uninvite him.

“Brad, hold his arms down to the bed for me!” Roy commanded Jesse’s usually quiet brother. Roy positioned himself between Jesse’s legs, grabbed a tube of sunscreen that he kept handy (he and Jesse are copper-colored redheads, who burn on a cloudy day in the middle of winter, so sunscreen is a must), and squirted some on his cock, which was now looking awfully threatening. It had not gotten any longer — still halfway to his knees, if he pushed it down, but it had gotten awfully big around — beercan big.

Now Jesse had never even taken a shit as big as his thumb before in his life. Yet, Roy, stuffing one of his old, smelly socks in Jesse’s mouth to keep him quiet, he shoved his big, white-whale of a cock all the way into Jesse’s ass. Jesse, blinded from pain, thrashed trying to get away— away from his brothers, but more importantly, away from the white-hot pain shooting through his guts right now. It felt more painful than anything he had ever felt before. His eyes burst forth tears. He tried to break away from Brad, who was holding his arms and upper body, in a kind of wrestling hold, but he couldn’t. Roy was holding his legs up and back, with his knees pinned almost to his ears. There was no breaking free of this. Then, to make matters worse, Roy started pumping in and out. Each time he started pulling back, there was the slightest twinge of relief, but when he pushed back in, all the way, so that his balls hit Jesse’s tailbone and spine, all Jesse could do was scream, again and again, muffled by the nasty old smelly gym sock.

I asked Jesse, when he told me his story, why his parents didn’t hear his screaming, this time, or other times, later. He told me his father, being disabled due to various problems, was addicted to opiate painkillers, and spent his leisure-time in a state of semi-consciousness, and his mother, tired from working what jobs she could find, spent a lot of time in bed, resting, and, quite frankly, she dealt with her depression by drinking, and liked to be alone, and frequently stupefied. Between the two of them, they barely managed to care for Jesse’s baby sister; the boys were on their own.

Roy’s cock was moving things around inside Jesse that it wasn’t supposed to be moving… he kept trying to fuck him deeper and deeper, and soon, something white and sticky shot out of his little cock — his little 7 yr old boy-cock. He learned many years later that this was a prostate orgasm, and involuntary reaction to a direct blow to the prostate gland. Some more pounding inside him, and Jesse bladder, being full let loose all over himself. Roy laughed at this, saying, “I’m glad that’s on YOUR bed, and not mine, faggot!”

Aside from the physical pain, Jesse now felt something he had never felt before, and really shouldn’t have had to feel at his young age — self consciousness of body image, and feelings of sexual inadequacy, plus the horrible feeling of being violated. No one at 7 or 8 should have had to feel this way. Our brains are barely able to deal with such feelings as adults. Certainly, as pre-adolescents, we are not prepared for such feelings.

A few minutes later, and he felt Roy start pounding harder and harder into him. He felt the pain at his ass, but also he felt pain deep inside him with every thrust. His little intestines weren’t made to be re-arranged by a big cock at his age. It hurt — it was excruciating when he bottomed out on each deep, pounding stroke. Suddenly, he pushed deep, and kept it there, and he could feel something warmer than Roy’s cock inside him. He thought maybe he was now bleeding inside, and really started to worry. Again, Roy pulled out, pushed in, and held it there. More warm feeling. This happened 2 or 3 times.

Finally, Roy let go of his legs, and pulled his cock out of his ass. Brad let his arms go, with a toss of his hair— an actual show of affection from Roy’s “partner in crime”. Jesse curled up into the fetal position, to soothe his aching gut. His large intestine had been “straightened” at the natural bend to the rectum all the way up past his navel. He was just lucky that Roy didn’t perforate his little colon anywhere. He opened his eyes, and saw the mess on his bed. Aside from the big urine stain, there was a big puddle of blood, and white sticky stuff. The same stuff that was covering his belly from earlier. Some of this stuff was mixed into a “strawberry ice-cream” color, that almost made Jesse vomit. He reached back to his butt, and felt that blood was actually running out of his ass in a real flow. What was he supposed to do?

After Roy caught his breath, he said, “If you ever even HINT a WHISPER of this to anyone, fuckpost, you’ll think that what just happened to you felt like heaven on earth. I WILL fuck you so hard, you’ll be in the hospital for the rest of your short, miserable life, you got it??”

But Jesse didn’t reply…

So, Jesse got a blow into the gut, where it hurt the most. He moaned and began to actually sob. Something that he never wanted to do in front of his bully of a brother. Brad finally said, “Enough Roy… He won’t talk. He’s hurt pretty bad already. Let him be.”

“He’d better not EVER talk!” and with that, Roy lay down on his bed, and turned on his TV. Totally ignoring Jesse, as usual.

Jesse spent that night writhing in pain, rolling all over the place, trying to comfort his aching gut. Finally, he found that if he piled pillows up under his abdomen, with his ass up in the air, it hurt a little less, but he did not want to make his ass a willing target, so he flipped around, with his ass up, but facing away from his bed, into the little space where each boy had his personal stuff, like his TV, or alarm clock, or whatever. this way, he felt a little better, and he felt like his ass was protected. Still the blood dripped, though, down from his asshole, onto his scrotum, and onto the old linoleum-covered floor. Was he going to bleed to death?? He didn’t know. At that particular point in time, he didn’t really care, either. If Roy could do that to him any time he wanted to, death might be better after all. Such thoughts should not be coming from a 7-yr-old’s mind.

The next day was spent in the exact same way. Roy and Brad both got up, and went out to play with their friends. Roy probably was playing basketball at the school playground. Brad was probably just hanging out with his friends. Their parents probably never noticed that Jesse never got up. He stayed hunched over that pile of pillows, now dripping, instead of flowing blood, which was an improvement, he thought. Maybe he wasn’t going to die. Sometime around dinner-time, before his brothers came back in, he managed to get himself downstairs into the bathroom, and sat in the soothing warm, soapy, water. He used a wash-cloth to plug up the over-flow, and brought the water-level up to his little nipples — far above the “line of damage” to his insides, and let the warmth sink into his gut. He didn’t think anything could feel so good. He grabbed a washcloth and tried to wash his anus, but he could not stand the pain of anything there, so he just kinda sat on a bar of soap for a few minutes, hoping the soap would help. Overall, though, he did feel some better.

As the water began to cool, he got out of the tub, seeing, then, that the water had a pink tinge to it, so he was still bleeding a little. He dried himself, and thought that maybe one of his mother’s “pad things” might work, and so he found a box of them in the bathroom cupboard, and he folded it, and pushed it between his delicate little-boy buttocks. It hurt a little, but maybe at least he wouldn’t bleed all over everything now.

He found clean sheets and pillowcases in the bathroom closet, and went back upstairs, with just a towel wrapped around his waist. He managed to get his sheets changed, but the urine, and the cum, and the blood had soaked in as far as the mattress; it had to be flipped over. Somehow, he managed to do it by himself. He wouldn’t ask his brothers for a thing after this. Not anything.

He was thinking that he might ask his parents if he could sleep down in the basement, which was once the kitchen of the house, and it was at least inhabitable, by his standards, anyway. Most importantly, it did not have Roy in it. But he was thinking of what kind of excuse he might use. Maybe he could just say that he and Roy just weren’t getting along, and he was tired of arguing. That way Roy wouldn’t get into any trouble. So he asked his mom, who deferred it to his father, who promptly refused; his father conducted “business” down there once in a while, he knew, and there was “stuff” in boxes down there, like new VCR’s, new car stereos, etc.. He didn’t know where his Dad got them, and he didn’t care, but evidently, the basement kitchen was his Dad’s “store”. Appealing any decision of his Dad’s was a great way to get a punch in the gut. Right now, that would be a very bad idea. So, removing his ass from Roy’s easy access was not going to be possible. There was only one more idea.

Jesse called his grandfather, and asked if he could stay with him for a little while. He just said he was having trouble with his brothers, and needed a break. His grandfather picked him up later that night. His grandparents were simple people. Staying with them meant doing some work, going fishing in summer, when you weren’t working, or hunting in winter, but Jesse knew he’d have to go back home before school started. He and his grandfather “picked coal” off of the mountains for winter use a lot of days, and then, for a break, they’d go fishing for a day. It was a lot of work, yes, but at least he wasn’t ignored, like at home. With his grandparents, he was fed, listened to, talked to, and considered a part of the household; not like a rat or mouse, or worse, his brother’s “cum dumpster”. Jesse turned 8 that summer, and while he didn’t get any gifts from his grandparents, his grandmother baked a cake, and they made homemade ice cream for him. It was probably the first time his birthday was ever acknowledged in his young life. His “insides” and his anus had stopped hurting over the summer as well. He more or less felt normal, although he sometimes had a hard time containing his bladder, and sometimes his ass hurt pretty bad when he took a shit.

But, like all summers when you are that age, it ended much too soon, and his Grandfather thought it would be best to return him home the week before school started, so he could get ready. He even gave him $10, to buy “pencils and such” for school. Jesse was grateful and proud of that $10, but couldn’t mention it to anyone, or he was sure Roy would take it from him.

That first night at home, Roy pretty much ignored him, as usual. Brad seemed genuinely glad to see him again. Jesse wanted to feel good about that, but he’d never trust Brad again after he held him down for Brad to fuck him, instead of helping him. So, cautiously, he was polite, but not friendly, to Brad.

End Part 1