A Taste of Power

By Jack
published September 18, 2021
6967 words

Aiden gets a taste of what he’s never had

The horror above him continued to twitch and shudder as it waited for Aiden’s answer, but his mouth was frozen. How could he speak? What would he say to this thing that had congealed from his nightmare? Scenes of bloodied claws and splayed organs flickered in his mind while he stared into the unseeing whites.


I would give anything not to hurt anymore. The words cut through the fear and Aiden could speak once again.

“W-who are you?” He asked.


Aiden saw now that the monster wasn’t speaking through its mouth, exactly. The dripping chasm moved, but no sound came out. Being this close to it, he could see other things as well. Sharp, dark spikes were driven into its body. Mismatched and rusted piercings adorned it. Deep cuts and lesions opened and bled spontaneously across it. The beast’s claws rattled with impatience.


“I don’t know what you want.”

The whole head seemed to twist and quiver as a tint of glee slipped into its voice.


“Are you here to torture me?” Aiden asked, wincing at the laughter that forced itself into his mind.


“Why should I b-believe you? You’re no Samaritan. If you want my pain, why not just take it?”

The monster detached itself from the ceiling and crawled slow circles around the room, its neck twisting and cracking to keep Aiden in view.


“So … that’s all you want from me? To- to take my pain, just so you can come back and take more?”

Its movements became more excited and more erratic.


Aiden could feel an incessant tapping against his leg. He tried to move his hand to smother whatever it was. Even while pressed together with his palm, the tapping continued. Wrenching his eyes away from the beast, he looked down. His fingers were barely visible as they shook. His leg was shaking, too. Aiden’s mind shut down as he realized all of him was shivering with cold and fear. Curling into himself, he covered his eyes and tried to will the creature away.


“Please go away. Please,” Aiden said.


His lungs pricked with the pain of his shallow breaths while his heart crashed against the walls of his chest. Aiden knew something was wrong. A tiny voice in his mind was trying to scream through the maelstrom that obliterated all other thought. But he couldn’t hear the voice, or maybe he didn’t want to. There was no light left, no air, no space. He was being crushed by the weight of his own dread. All that was left was to whisper with the last of his strength before he fell against the darkness.

“T-take it.”

And then he was no more.

Dozens of warm fingers mingled on his face, not strong enough to fully rouse him nor to coax him back to sleep. Lazy thoughts meandered around his mind, only becoming fully formed once enough of them became friends. Aiden couldn’t remember the last time he felt so relaxed and at peace. There was no fear in him as he laid there, his thin mattress unusually soft and welcoming. Eventually, the memory of the previous night began gathering in his mind and he shot up, backing up against the wall. The monster was nowhere to be seen.

The sun filtered through the window, hinting that it was still early in the morning. Aiden blinked and slowly felt around where his eye had been swollen shut. There was no more tenderness or pain around it. His arm did feel tight, though. He began rubbing it only to immediately stop. That’s definitely not how my arm feels. Looking down, he saw tan, smooth skin and thick muscle on his normally bony frame. The other arm was nearly identical. Throwing his blanket off the bed, Aiden leapt up and skidded over to the mirror. What he saw should have been impossible.

The swelling and bruising around his eye and face had healed. Yesterday’s bandages were hanging loose, their injuries nowhere to be seen. His many scars were fully erased. Imperfections and blemishes were non-existent. All that was left was Aiden, but some kind of enhanced version.

Standing naked, he was a marvel. Sun-kissed skin on all sides, filled out by new muscles that stretched and bulged with each movement. They weren’t anywhere near Preston’s, but Aiden wasn’t about to start complaining. His hair was longer, fuller, and more active with his movements. His teeth were white and straight. Where his eyesight was starting to blur, now it was clear and sharp.

But what caught Aiden’s full attention was the massive skin-toned pipe hanging from his crotch. It obviously wasn’t his cock. The changes to his body, assuming it wasn’t some kind of wonderful hallucination, were major but reasonable. This equipment was comically out of proportion from the rest of him. He reached down to pull the prosthetic off, only to freeze when he felt the sensation of his hand grasping the thick shaft.

It was too much. None of this made any sense, but the sounds of Preston enjoying his morning fuck session were enough to bring back the anxiety that pushed Aiden into getting ready for school. His clothes, once baggy and awkward, now put him on display. If he hadn’t been in the habit of never looking at himself in the mirror, he might have seen that every one of his new abs and his thick new pecs were being shown off, and his arms were seriously testing the strength of the sleeve seams.

Aiden barely noticed how difficult it was to get his pants up around his inflated, muscular ass as he was too busy trying to arrange his new cock comfortably while still hurrying to get out of there. He did see that the outline of his cock was practically visible from space, but there was no time to try on any other pants if he was going to make it to school on time. Besides, he didn’t really have anything else that would fit him better, nor did he have money to go buy new clothes. As thrilled as Aiden was at the prospect of moving freely have rocking a body this fine, he wondered how much trouble it would cause.

He was successful in sneaking out of the house without being seen, and he started down the sidewalk to get to school. Now free of the worry of being late, and still in shock from his transformation, Aiden tried to think about what had happened last night. The beast had wanted pain from him, which apparently had come in the form of taking his many injuries and feeding off of them. It seemed like too good of an act for such a terrifying creature. There was no mercy in its heart, Aiden was sure of that. So what would be the purpose of giving him such a gift? Would it be so that he would be in more pain when Preston saw his new body and beat the shit out of him for it? But what good would that do, when Aiden felt stronger and better than ever before?

And what was it that the monster had said about a binding? Was he connected to it somehow? He remembered the terror of the night before, and how at the end he had finally accepted the beast’s offer, then there was nothing but darkness.

A bell roused him from his thoughts, making Aiden realize he had finally made it to school. The other students were already filing inside to their various classes, but a small group was conspicuous in the middle. They were scanning the crowd. One of them spotted Aiden and smacked another on the arm. The second one turned and suddenly Aiden was watching Omar’s face break into a wide smile.

Without another thought, Aiden took off. He dropped his backpack, knowing from experience that it would just slow him down. Hightailing it to the wall of the school, Aiden ran along the boundary in hopes of finding an open door that would let him slip inside unnoticed. His new legs were powerful, and he ran faster and with more energy that he was used to. Trying to maneuver around a group of very tall bushes, he tripped over himself and hit the ground hard.

The sound of feet came immediately after. Before he could jump up and keep running, a strong hand grabbed his shirt and flipped him over. Omar towered over him, furious.

“Trying to run from me, puta? You’ve never outrun me before, and it’s not going to start now,” he said.

“Just let me go to class, man. I don’t want any trouble from you,” Aiden said.

“Doesn’t matter if you don’t want trouble. You’ve already got it.”

Omar clenched Aiden’s shirt in his fist while the other came flying towards his face. Panicking, he threw his hands up to protect himself. With his newfound strength and agility, Aiden managed to catch Omar’s fist before it connected. Omar’s eyes widened at Aiden’s boldness. Aiden, too, was caught off guard. Before he could retaliate, Aiden also grabbed onto Omar’s other wrist.

When Aiden’s hands both connected, his vision flashed black. The boy wrestling above him was reduced to a bright white outline. For a brief moment, it almost seemed like there were small, dark red lights, too, but the white was far too bright to see clearly. Unbidden, his mouth opened and he began to speak.

Why are you always beating up on me? I bet it’s because you’re secretly in love with me. That’s probably why you made me suck you off, right?

A jagged pain shot through his palms and he pulled his hands back with a yelp. Omar was still above him, but his eyes were confused and unfocused. In the distance the voices of the bully’s group were getting closer. Hearing their shouts broke Omar out of his daze. Jumping off his victim, he grabbed Aiden and yanked him behind the bushes. He pressed his hand to Aiden’s mouth as the other teens ran by, unable to see through the thick foliage.

Once their voices had faded, Omar let go. His expression was unreadable. His hands were curling into Aiden’s shirt, causing several of the seams to stretch and snap. He held him there for a moment before pushing Aiden against the wall. Aiden tensed for a fight, but before he could move, Omar pushed him again. It wasn’t a hard shove, but it was enough for Aiden to bounce a little off the wall. Every time Aiden tried to move or speak or do anything, Omar pushed him back, his eyes getting darker and darker. Aiden was getting tired of whatever stupid game Omar was playing, and threw his hands out to push Omar back.

The bully grabbed both wrists and pressed himself against Aiden, one hand holding the boy’s arms above him, the other cushioning his head from slamming into the wall. Omar’s eyes had a fire in them that, along with his compromising position, was making his new dick stir. Before he could think about what to do next, Omar closed the distance and hungrily pressed his lips to Aiden.

A better man would have fought back. A better man would have remembered all the times Omar bullied him and made him feel like trash. A better man would have thrown Omar to the ground and beat him to within an inch of his life. But Aiden wasn’t thinking about all of those things. He was lost in the feeling of how soft and desperate Omar’s lips were. His genetics had left him a teen heartthrob, but to actually feel his lips was almost indescribable. And when Omar opened his lips just enough to moan into Aiden’s mouth? God, he’d never have the strength to fight against that.

Omar let go of his arms, and Aiden immediately wrapped them around his wide torso, pressing those amazing pecs and rock hard nipples to his own newly improved chest. Omar groaned in appreciation and deepened their kiss. They broke apart just far enough to breathe, their lips still brushing against each other. Aiden’s eyes were closed and he could feel the flush on his face. He didn’t know what was happening, and he definitely didn’t care once Omar started to whimper and he forced his tongue into Aiden’s mouth. It was ravenous as it plunder every inch of space. Their tastes were freely exchanged with the other, and Aiden found that he rather liked it. Maybe too much. The kissing wasn’t even over and he was already looking forward to the next time this would happen. Maybe I’m actually a slut?

Omar’s hands began exploring Aiden’s body, giving special attention to his newly developed muscles and his extra-sensitive scalp. Without warning, Omar forced his head to the side and he latched his mouth onto Aiden’s neck. There was a sharp pain and a wet sensation as a hot tongue bathed the skin. He sucked for a few minutes, biting here and there to make the hickey as large as possible. When he was done, Omar pulled back with a very satisfied look on his face.

“Happy now?” Aiden asked, gasping through the lust.


Without warning, Aiden was pulled to the ground and again he found himself looking up at Omar. He dipped down, nibbling and sucking on Aiden’s lips, drool slipping easily into Aiden’s willing mouth. He was starting to really understand why people enjoyed kissing so much. When Omar pulled back again, Aiden caught his face in his hands and gave a playful bite to his chin. Omar growled and smiled at Aiden, making him blush.

“You’re going to miss your first class, stud.”

And then lips were on him again, leaving Aiden to silently agree with his bully.

Aiden stumbled out of the bushes 45 minutes later, his lips bruised and swollen from Omar’s efforts. The Latino boy had sent him on his way when the bell had rung again, having decided to stay there and spread himself across the soft grass with a smug look on his face. Aiden was tempted to stay with him, but he knew he needed to get to class.

He retrieved his backpack from where he had dropped it and went inside, blending in immediately with the large crowds moving between rooms. Aiden was still unfamiliar with the best route to his new classes, and the lingering tingles of Omar’s lips on his were more than a little distracting. He was several minutes late to his class, but the teacher didn’t seem to care. Aiden dropped into a chair in the back corner and tried to arrange his thoughts to try to make sense of Omar’s new, and not unwelcome, changes.

Aiden took a deep breath and tried to focus. There had to be a reason why Omar had gone from attacking him to, well, attacking him in a much different way. Questions swirled around in his mind. Was Omar bisexual? His exploits with the girls in school were well documented across several Instagram accounts, but Aiden wasn’t sure that he had ever kissed any of them like that before. And if he had, he pitied his ex-girlfriends. That would be hard to get over.

But why had it happened? Aiden wasn’t an idiot. He knew that it had something to do with the weird perceptual change that had occurred, not to mention the words that seemed like they were yanked straight from his fantasies. Aiden didn’t actually choose to speak those words. He just did. And what about that pain in his hands? Where the hell did that come from?

Aiden looked down at his palms and felt his blood freeze. Right there in the center of his hands, right where that sharp sting had cut through, were two large spots. They were hardly noticeable, but Aiden knew them as soon as he saw them. They were white. Milky white. And even though they didn’t move, Aiden knew they were looking right back at him.

Aiden was in the bathroom before he could really see again. His heart was pounding and his face was dripping with sweat. Blood from his nose was dripping slowly onto the floor. He pulled himself to a stall and wiped his nose clean. Once the blood was gone, the tears started.

Whatever part of Aiden’s brain that wasn’t breaking down knew that this was just the shock wearing off, but that was drowned out by the panic attack that was coursing through him. He finally understood that the beast, somehow, had merged into his body and was the cause of the changes he found this morning. That thing also had to be involved with Omar kissing him instead of beating him to a bloody smear on the grass. He had known something was different when he woke up, and in the corners of his mind he knew that the beast hadn’t left him. In this world, there wasn’t such a thing as waking up with a suddenly amazing body, a massive fucking cock, and the power to turn fantasy into reality. A power which, for all intents and purposes, wasn’t even his. The beast was just using him. Those words that he had said to Omar were his thoughts, but he hadn’t really spoken them. That stupid monster just used his mouth.

He stopped shaking long enough to look down at his hands a look at the spots again. If those eyes weren’t permanently burned into his mind, Aiden wondered if he’d notice a difference at all. No one else would, that was for sure. He squeezed his hands shut, worried that the monster might see him. The pain of his fingernails digging into his palms helped to clear his mind, but the fear of what the beast might do while he was inside him was just too much to chase away. Would it possess him and use his body for its own purposes? What had he agreed to last night while he was too terrified to really understand? How could he get the beast out?

The moment the thought of extricating the beast crossed his mind, a flash of pain exploded out of his hands. Right then, there was something. It wasn’t quite a thought or a feeling. It was just instinct. Aiden knew the beast prickled at the thought of being forced out. He also knew, with a fresh wave of dread, that the beast could tell what he was thinking.

The damn thing wasn’t going to leave. The possibilities of everything that might go wrong while he was bound to this tormentor swirled through his head, this thoughts twisting into sharp black spikes. The walls of the stall around him began to close in and Aiden’s breathing became short and erratic. He felt like he was drowning and, as the darkness closed in, he was sure this would be how he died.

Before the light fully blinked out, another feeling began oozing through him, like slipping into a warm bath. It wasn’t necessarily pleasurable, but it came with a calm that eased Aiden back down. He felt his arms and legs go limp, sore from the tension of his panic attack. He stayed there for another 15 minutes until all that was left was a dull sense of emptiness and exhaustion. Resting his head against the stall, Aiden mentally cursed himself for taking the stupid deal with the demon. If it was powerful enough to affect his emotions, he was truly fucked.

Aiden wondered for a moment if it was some kind of magic that the beast wielded. What was the extent of it? It could obviously make Omar go from rage to lust in a heartbeat, and it could force Aiden to calm down. So, it worked with people. What else could it do? Lazily, he reached his hand out to the roll of toilet paper and thought, Turn into a clean shirt. He felt no stab of pain and there was no sudden transformation into an article of clothing. Maybe this thing just worked on people, then. I’ll just move to the Artic and everything will be fine.

There was no way he was going to the rest of his classes after what happened. His shirt was plastered to his newly defined torso and he stunk of sweat. Blood had dripped over everything. Anyone looking at him would have to assume he just came from a fight club. Aiden giggled lightly at the thought. At least he was buffer than Brad Pitt.

Half walking, half sliding along the wall, Aiden made it back to the empty classroom where he had left his bag. One of his classmates had kindly shoved it deep into the trash can and covered it in soda and some kind of yogurt. It brought a continuity and solidity to Aiden’s world to know that no matter what was happening to him and what realities were shattered by the appearance of a deal-making monstrosity, some person out there was going to keep being an asshole to him. He pulled his backpack out of the trash and brushed it off as well as he could. It smelled horrible, but it wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened to this backpack. Surely, if it could talk, it would be screaming. For now, he’d just toss it in the laundry when he got home.

Leaving the school, he groaned at the thought that with two days down in the new year, he still hadn’t gone to most of his classes. When he actually got to class, his teachers were going to drop a stack of homework on him that might actually scare the beast back. I’ll get the stupid fucker to do my homework for me. Then he’ll leave me alone. A light pang of annoyance met that thought, which made Aiden laugh harder. Yeah, maybe the beast would end up killing him, but at least he could piss it off all the way there.

After a lifetime of being tortured and abused by his family and classmates, Aiden had become a recluse and hidden away to keep from further pain. But he was also still a living, nuanced person. He laughed at little inconsistencies, took note of sunsets, and felt a stirring of emotion at poems that resonated with him. And with his chronic pain finally gone, not to mention the strangeness of his situation, Aiden was feeling particularly flippant. The laughter from his homework joke kept up for several minutes as he walked home, doubtlessly painting him as a lunatic to anyone who drove by. He found himself brainstorming different ideas of how he could best peeve his new “roommate”, each one more ridiculous than the last. Listening to hours and hours of evangelical preachers, reading about more interesting monsters, picking out pet names by watching makeup tutorials on youtube, or just poking the white spots with something sharp. The last one sounded particularly fun, and Aiden pulled out his pen to try.

Clicking the pen open, he poked the spot on his left hand. It didn’t hurt, but there was a strange sensation of trying to get away and not being able to. Laughing to himself, he kept poking again and again until, all of the sudden, a black tendril shot out of his hand, ripped the pen from his grasp, broke it in two, and threw it so hard that the two pieces embedded themselves in a tree next to the sidewalk. By the time he looked back at his hand, the tendril was already gone.

Aiden stood stunned by the sudden retaliation of the beast, but his spark brought him back quickly. A grin spread across his face as he realize the beast had just made a mistake. First, it had shown that Aiden could affect it right back. Second, it hadn’t used the pen against him. It couldn’t hurt him without hurting itself. The binding, while a curse, might also be a protection. The rest of the journey home was uneventful, though it might have been because Aiden only had the one pen.

He was so caught up in his thoughts about the day that he didn’t notice he had to walk past Preston’s car to get into the house, or that the door was unlocked and the lights were off, or that the hulking silhouette of his brother was standing at the top of the stairs. What Aiden did notice was the fist smashing into his chest and the feeling of weightlessness as he was lifted off the staircase and thrown towards the floor six feet below. He hit the ground hard enough for the air to rush out of his lungs, leaving him gasping. Preston slowly descended, his tone ice smooth.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? You didn’t do any of your chores yesterday. You weren’t here this morning. Do you think you can just ignore your responsibilities? I swear, Aiden, it’s like you don’t even realize everything that we’re doing for you.”

His foot collided with Aiden’s stomach and what little was in there immediately was thrown up onto the floor.

“Look at that. Now you have more to do because you’re not man enough to take a beating. You think I drop to the ground when I take a punch? Fuck no. I soak it up and then deal it out until the other guy is dust. But you? You’re just a fucking pussy. A meaningless, pathetic cunt that only exists for better men to fuck over. No wonder you’re a fag. You probably can’t get it up unless there’s an alpha in the room. You’re just a bitch. Always have been, always will be.”

Aiden was curled up on the floor, trying to protect himself from the other kicks that would surely come, when Preston’s last words broke through like the snapping of a violin string. His bastard of a brother was wrong. He wasn’t the same as he used to be. I’m different now.

He kicked his leg out, catching Preston in the shin and bringing him down to one knee. In a flash, Aiden jumped up and slammed his hands against his brother’s head. The world went dark again. Preston’s outline was there, but it was overwhelmed by a blazing red jewel that filled his vision. Aiden didn’t take any time to wonder what it was. He just spoke the words that came to him.

Don’t tell me I’m not a man. I’m more of a man than you’ll ever be.

Preston screamed as the pain from Aiden’s palms seemed to pass into his mind. Aiden let go and the world righted itself again, while Preston fell back still wailing. Aiden looked down at his hands just in time to see shiny black spikes, like the stinger of a scorpion, disappearing. Scared at the idea that he might have just killed his brother, Aiden ran upstairs and into his room, Preston’s voice still echoing in the house.

Aiden stayed in his room for the rest of the night, uncaring of the hunger gnawing at his insides. Preston’s screams had subsided after a while, leaving Aiden to wonder if he was dead or if he was just out cold. Either way, he sat in the corner and watched the door. If his brother were to burst through it looking for revenge, Aiden wanted to be ready.

The intense stress of the day and the weight of staring intently at the door for hours was too much for Aiden. He fought as hard as he could against the sleep pulling insistently on him, but in the end he lost. His chin rested on his knees as the world went dark and he slipped away.

Fuck me, that feels amazing. Aiden was having the best dream of his entire life. He was lying in a large, soft bed with something large and hard and hot wrapped around him. Even better, it was massaging his dick in a way he didn’t even think was possible. The sounds of slick, smooth skin being pulled and stroked resonated through the room, along with Aiden’s moans. He had never felt like this when he was masturbating. His own hands were nowhere near his cock, instead grasping the sheets while he forced himself further back into the heat.

Whatever was stroking him was in absolutely no hurry to make him cum. When he would get close, it would lazily caress his long shaft down to his oversized balls and play with them until they tingled with bliss and his orgasm had pulled back. Then it would swipe back up and smear the river of precum across the head of his dick until Aiden’s eyes rolled back in his head.

His body was shifted slightly as a massive arm wrapped around him and started tweaking his nipple. Aiden whimpered softly, silently begging for more.

“Fuck, little bro, what part of you isn’t sensitive?”

Aiden’s eyes shot open. It wasn’t a dream. He immediately recognized the inside of Preston’s room. Where he was. In his bed. Getting jacked off.

“P-preston?” Aiden asked.

“What’s up?”

“Wha- … ooooh … what are you doing?”

“Don’t worry about it, Ade.”

Aiden tried to pull away, but Preston’s arm pulled him back in and he squeezed the glands of Aiden’s cock hard, pushing him right to the edge of cumming.

“Preston, stop! I’m close!”

His brother just laughed quietly, his hot breath washing over Aiden’s ear deliciously. He was caught between trying to get out of the room before he got his shoulder dislocated again, or begging his muscle jock brother to make him cum. The decision was made for him as Preston chose that moment to tangle one of his legs in between Aiden’s. The additional points of contact overcharged his brain, and he started unloading the biggest load of his life on the sheets, his torso, his face, and Preston’s arms. It went on forever, every convulsion of his nuts accompanied by a stroke of his shaft to pull more out. Aiden was begging for mercy, but Preston wouldn’t stop milking him until he was well and truly empty.

All he could do, all he wanted to do, was to just lay there in the lake of warm seed and relax. He barely registered Preston pulling away and tucking in the comforter so Aiden wouldn’t lose any body heat. He slipped in and out of sleep for the next while, grinning with arousal at rolling around in his own cum while his mind came down from the experience. When he finally did come to, he sat up and glanced at the clock. It was an hour before he needed to get up to get ready for school. Looking around the room, he didn’t see Preston anywhere. What he did see was cum. It was all over the sheets, his body, the headboard, the fucking ceiling. A lot of it had already dripped down, making dark pools everywhere. There was no way Preston wasn’t going to kill him.

Moving so he wouldn’t make any sound, Aiden slid out of the bed and crept out of the room. He could still hear Ian snoring, so his idiot father wasn’t disturbed by whatever the fuck had happened in Preston’s room. He silently opened his door and froze. Preston was asleep on Aiden’s mattress on the floor, his hands resting behind his head in a way that made his biceps pop out. His feet were stretched beyond the bed, resting on the floor as he snored softly. Aiden just stood there with his mouth open like an idiot. The scent of urine was still present in the room, meaning that Preston was at that moment sleeping in his own piss. Of all the things that had happened in the last few days, from the appearance of the monster, to the changes to his body and Omar, this was the one that had Aiden well and truly stumped. Never mind what was possible, or even what was conceivable. There was no power in this universe or in any other universe that would make Preston not only jack off the brother that he hated, but also give up his bed and sleep on the pitiful excuse for a bed that reeked of blood, sweat, tears, and pee.

While he was standing there, completely numb, Preston’s phone dinged and his brother opened his eyes. Propping himself up by his elbows, he yawned and nodded to Aiden.

“Your clothes from yesterday don’t really fit anymore with your body type. I have some smaller stuff in my closet you can use that will fit you better,” he said. When Aiden didn’t respond, he kept going.

“Would you like me to find something for you?”

Aiden genuinely didn’t know what to say. If this was a trap or some kind of prank, he was going much further than Aiden ever thought he would. And if it was real … no. There was no way it was real. He must have died last night. Or maybe the demon was actually the result of a tumor. Or maybe it was Preston with the tumor. Or maybe—

“Yo, dickwad, you just gonna stare at me all day or are you going to go shower?”

He shook himself out of the mental spiral and went to the bathroom. Showering was definitely preferable to going insane trying to figure out what the fuck was happening to him. Aiden spent a good long time in the bathroom, letting the hot water run down his muscled body in rivulets. He washed the cum out of his bush and the valleys between his abs and pecs. He scrubbed his hair until he was sure he would go bald. He stayed in there as long as he could justify, and then he washed everything over again. When he was done, he dried slowly, distracting himself with the feel of his muscles, his firm, round ass, and his hair that seemed to sit perfectly as soon as it was dry. Wrapping the towel around his waist, Aiden walked out to his room, only to see it had been practically stripped clean. His mattress was gone, as were most of his clothes and what little belongings he had. Was this what Preston was trying to do all along? Just stealing all of my fucking stuff? Stepping over to his brother’s room, he once again was shocked into silence.

Preston was just making the finishing touches on the new setup to the room. The desk in the corner had been cleared of his possessions and what little Aiden owned was now in their place. He had also stripped the bed of its sheets and replaced them with what looked like a brand new charcoal-colored set with some clothes sitting on the corner. The other clothes in the room had been cleaned up and moved, providing ample space in the closet and open drawers.

“I’m just about done here. I made some room for your clothes, but we probably need to go get you some new stuff, instead of your old shit. I still haven’t ordered me a new bed for the other room, but I’ll probably be able to take care of that today. Oh, and I put out some clothes for you if you want to try them on. Well, what are you waiting for? Get changed.”

Aiden stepped into the room slowly, wary of danger this room held to him. But, as he got closer and closer, Preston just went back to his work. Aiden picked up the shirt his brother had chosen for him. It was one he wore back when he was fresh into high school, back when his musculature was only impressive. It still smelled strongly of his deodorant and his natural musk. The combination was intoxicating, and it took a surprising amount of willpower to not bury his face into the shirt and inhale every molecule of it.

While Preston’s back was turned, he dropped his towel and slipped the clothes on. The underwear was from a new pack and cupped his endowment in such a way that when he squeezed himself into his brother’s old pants, the size of his dick was obvious. He slipped the shirt on, which didn’t feel like it was painted on, but it did hint at his body in very complimentary ways. Aiden glanced over to Preston, seeing his brother’s eyes sweep over him appreciatively.

“I figured those pants would look good on you. I never knew you had that kind of cock, but you definitely don’t want to be hiding it like you were before. Not to mention they do some pretty great things for your ass.”

He checked himself out in the mirror, and he had to agree with Preston, as strange as that phrase sounded in his head. The shirt highlighted all the right muscles and tantalized the rest. His pants made his ass look like a bubble butt dream, and his junk was just on this side of pornographic. After spending his whole life lusting after muscles and beautiful boys, Aiden was happy with how he looked. If Preston wasn’t such a terror for his entire life, he might have been tempted to thank him. As it was, he really only had questions.

“Why are you giving me your clothes? And why are you letting me in your room without kicking my ass like you did a couple days ago? And what the fuck happened this morning?”

“Yours don’t fit, this isn’t my room, and a handjob.”

Aiden huffed in frustration. The glint in Preston’s eyes was as annoying as it was stunning.

“You know what I mean, Preston. This isn’t how things are. You’re a fucking terrorist. You and dad have done nothing to me but beat me into a pulp and make me feel like garbage my entire life. Now, suddenly, you’re nothing but smiles and service. What, did the ghost of Christmas Past come to help you see the error of your ways? Are you just high as fuck and I’ll get my ass handed to me when you come down? Are you some fucking alien who replaced my brother with something barely resembling decent human behavior? Or maybe you finally did kill me and I’m in some sort of afterlife where I don’t get treated like shit for absolutely no reason whatsoever. Maybe some deity out there finally looked down and saw that I have been fucking TORTURED for YEARS and decided to do something about it, because I was somehow born into a family so far removed from the idea of kindness that I still don’t know what it is, and whatever you’re doing right now is still suspicious to me! So, brother dear, what’s going on? Can you explain any of this? Any reason for your sudden change of heart? Huh? What the FUCK is going on?! ANSWER ME!” Aiden screamed.

Preston looked at him, his expression shifting between rebellion, embarrassment, and something else that Aiden didn’t recognize. He just stood there and held Aiden’s gaze for a long time. Long enough for Aiden’s heart to calm down and his anger to simmer down to a light nervousness at the extended silence. Then, haltingly, Preston looked away.

“Because you’re the man of the house.”

Comment and like if you are so inclined. For those of you who read the first chapter, I appreciate the time. For those of you reading this chapter, I’m surprised you’re back. For those of you who have not read any of my work, you make me sad and I don’t like you. If you change your mind, I’ll like you again. Probably.

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