Date: January 6th, 2044, 3:44 PM
Location: Riley's Bedroom
The room was a disaster zone of teenage chaos. Clothes were scattered across the floor in colorful piles, empty energy drink cans balanced precariously on every available surface, and the faint scent of cheap vanilla body spray hung in the air like a permanent fog. Riley's side of the room was the epicenter of the destruction, his bunkbed crammed into the corner with a mountain of pillows and blankets that looked like they'd been arranged by a tornado with a sense of humor.
Riley himself was buried in the middle of that mess, his platinum hair a wild halo around his flushed face, his glossy lips parted in a soft, desperate pant. His hand was moving frantically inside his loose gym shorts, the fabric tented and shifting with every eager stroke. In his other hand, his phone was propped up against a pillow, the screen glowing with the kind of explicit content that made his heart race and his tiny cocklet throb.
The video was grainy, filmed on what had to be a budget phone from five years ago, but the content was absolute perfection. A femboy with bright blue hair and a massive, shelf-like ass was bent over a washing machine, his cheeks spread wide with both hands, his pink hole winking invitingly at the camera. He was moaning, loud and shameless, his voice carrying that breathy, desperate quality that drove Riley absolutely crazy.
"Please," the blue-haired femboy begged, his voice cracking with need. "Please, I'm stuck, I can't get out, I need someone to help me, please, I'll do anything, just please—"
The camera panned to the side, revealing another femboy, this one with messy black hair and a cocky grin, stepping into frame. His tiny cocklet was already hard, barely two inches but standing proud, and he was stroking it slowly, deliberately, letting the blue-haired femboy watch.
"You're stuck, huh?" the black-haired femboy said, his voice carrying that low, teasing register that made Riley's hand speed up. "That's a real shame. A cute little thing like you, all bent over and helpless. What are we gonna do with you?"
"Anything," the blue-haired femboy whimpered, pushing his ass back further, his cheeks jiggling with the motion. "Anything you want. Just please, I need to feel something inside me. I need to feel full. I've been so empty for so long."
The black-haired femboy stepped closer, his hand still stroking his small cock. "You want to feel full, huh? You want my little cock stretching you open?"
"Yes, yes, please, I need it, I need it so bad—"
Riley bit his lower lip, his hand moving faster, the rough fabric of his gym shorts rubbing against his sensitive skin. The video continued, the black-haired femboy finally giving in, stepping up behind the blue-haired one and pressing his tiny cocklet against that waiting, winking hole. The blue-haired femboy let out a long, shuddering moan as he pushed inside, his back arching, his ass pressing back against the smaller length.
"AHHHH—yes—yes—fuck—it feels so good—so full—AHHH—AHHH—AHHH—!"
The camera captured everything, the way the black-haired femboy's hips snapped forward with quick, shallow thrusts, the way the blue-haired femboy's cheeks rippled with every impact, the way his tiny cocklet bounced between his legs, leaking steadily onto the floor below. The wet sounds were obscene, a constant PLAP-PLAP-PLAP-PLAP-PLAP that echoed through the bathroom and made Riley's own cocklet twitch with desperate need.
The scene shifted, the camera cutting to a different angle. Now the blue-haired femboy was on his knees, his mouth wrapped around the black-haired femboy's cocklet, his tongue working the small length with practiced enthusiasm. The black-haired femboy's hands were tangled in his hair, guiding his head, his moans just as loud and desperate as his partner's.
"Gluck—gluck—gluck—gluck—gluck—" The wet, slurping sounds filled the room, mixing with the constant, rhythmic slaps of skin on skin and the soft, needy whimpers that spilled from both of them. Riley's hand was flying now, his hips bucking up into his own grip, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
"Fuck—yes—just like that—take it all—AHHHH—!"
The video kept going, moving through a series of positions. The blue-haired femboy on his back, legs spread wide, his hole stretched open as the black-haired femboy pounded into him. The black-haired femboy on top, his hips snapping forward with that quick, relentless rhythm that made the blue-haired one scream and cry and beg for more. Then they switched, the blue-haired femboy taking control, riding the black-haired one with wild, desperate bounces that made his massive ass clap and jiggle with every drop.
"AHHH—AHHH—AHHH—YES—YES—RIGHT THERE—DON'T STOP—DON'T EVER STOP—AHHHHH—!"
Riley was right on the edge, his balls drawn up tight, his tiny cocklet throbbing in his grip. The video was reaching its climax, both femboys moaning and crying out, their bodies trembling, their tiny cocks pulsing as they came together in a messy, satisfying explosion of pleasure. Riley's own orgasm was building, a familiar pressure that made his whole body tense and his breath catch in his throat—
The door swung open.
"Riley! Dad says get down for dinner! He made meatloaf!"
Riley's eyes flew wide. His hand froze mid-stroke. His heart slammed against his ribs as he scrambled to yank his gym shorts up, the fabric bunching awkwardly around his hips, his half-hard cocklet pressing painfully against the waistband. His phone went flying, landing screen-down on the mattress as he fumbled to close the browser tab, his fingers slipping on the screen.
"Get out! I'm—I'm coming, just give me a second, close the door!"
Dennis stood in the doorway, his seventeen-year-old face a mask of complete disinterest. His ginger hair was a mess, sticking up in wild directions from his own nap, and his eyes were half-lidded with that particular brand of teenage exhaustion that made everything feel like a chore.
"Whatever, man. Just hurry up, I'm starving. And if you make me wait too long, I'm gonna eat your portion too."
"Just leave! I'll be down in five minutes, I swear!"
Dennis shrugged, already turning away. "Suit yourself. But I'm not saving you any of the good stuff if you take too long."
The door clicked shut. Riley let out a long, shaky breath, his whole body sagging with relief. He looked down at his shorts, at the obvious tent that was still very much visible, and groaned softly.
"Close one."
---
The dining room was the same chaotic mess it always was during dinner. The orange throw pillows that Eli insisted on having everywhere were scattered across the chairs, the orange rug underneath the table was covered in crumbs, and the overhead light cast that warm, slightly dim glow that made everything look like it was filmed through a filter. Riley sat at the table, picking at his meatloaf with the enthusiasm of someone who had just eaten three honey packs and was now waiting for the inevitable consequences to kick in.
His dad, Eli, was at the head of the table, his fork moving with the kind of tired efficiency that came from years of feeding two growing boys on his own.
He had the same fluffy hair as Riley, the same freckles that dusted his nose, but his eyes were sharper, more tired, carrying the weight of raising a teenager who had discovered sex and a younger one who was about to discover it himself. His own post-Vanishing proportions were noticeable even in his work shirt, the wide curve of his hips and the shelf-like projection of his ass barely contained by the loose fabric.
Dennis, Riley's seventeen-year-old brother, was across from him, his ginger hair sticking up in wild directions, his freckled face still carrying that sleepy, just-woke-up expression. He had the same build as Riley, tall and curvy, with the exaggerated hips and massive ass that seemed to be the default for every male under thirty-five in this new world. His tiny cocklet was hidden beneath his loose shorts, but the bulge was still noticeable, a constant reminder that Dennis was growing up fast. Way too fast.
"So," Dennis said, his mouth half-full of meatloaf, "are you gonna go out again tonight? Or are you actually gonna stay home for once?"
Riley shrugged, his fork scraping against his plate. "I don't know. Maybe. I've got some stuff to do."
"Stuff," Dennis repeated, his eyes narrowing. "You mean you're gonna go out and do more of that stuff you think I don't know about."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Suuuure you don't." Dennis grinned, that knowing, annoying grin that made Riley want to throw his meatloaf at him. "I saw you come back at three in the morning last weekend. You smelled like someone's cheap perfume and your hair was all messed up. And you were walking funny."
"Walking funny? I was walking perfectly normal."
"You were walking like you'd been riding a horse for six hours."
Eli looked up from his plate, his eyes narrowing. "Riley, what exactly were you doing last weekend?"
"Nothing, dad. Dennis is exaggerating. I was just hanging out with some friends. We went to a party. A normal party. With normal people and normal activities."
"At three in the morning?"
"It was a really good party."
Eli sighed, the sound long and bone-deep. He pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture that Riley had seen a thousand times and knew meant his dad was about to give up on the conversation entirely.
"Just be safe, okay? I don't need to know the details, but I need you to be smart about whatever it is you're doing."
"I'm always smart, dad. I'm the smartest person in this house. Well, second smartest, since I'm the oldest and the smartest is obviously you."
Dennis snorted. "Suck up."
"Don't be jealous, little brother. It's not a good look on you."
"I'm not jealous. I'm just saying, you're clearly doing something sketchy and you're trying to cover it up with compliments. It's obvious."
"It's not obvious. You're just paranoid."
"I'm not paranoid, I'm observant. There's a difference."
Eli held up both hands, cutting off the argument before it could escalate into the kind of full-blown shouting match that usually ended with one of them storming off to their room. "Enough. Both of you. Finish your dinner and go do whatever it is you're going to do. I don't want to hear another word about it."
Riley and Dennis exchanged a look, a silent agreement to end the fight for now, and returned to their plates. The rest of dinner passed in awkward silence, broken only by the occasional clink of silverware and the soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.
When the plates were finally cleared and the leftovers were packed away, Riley stretched his arms over his head with a theatrical groan, his crop top riding up to show a strip of smooth stomach. "Alright, I'm gonna go take a shower. I feel gross after all that meatloaf."
Dennis's head snapped up from his phone, his eyes lighting up with sudden interest. "Oh, me too. I'll shower with you."
Riley's heart stopped. His stomach dropped. His entire body went cold for a split second before the heat of the honey packs kicked back in, a familiar warmth that spread through his groin and made his tiny cocklet twitch with renewed interest.
"What? No. No way. Absolutely not."
"Why not?" Dennis pouted, his lower lip jutting out in that exaggerated way that always made Riley want to strangle him. "We used to shower together all the time when we were kids."
"That was when we were kids, Dennis. We're not kids anymore. You're seventeen. I'm almost nineteen. It's different now."
"It's not different. We're brothers. It's not weird. You're making it weird."
"I'm not making it weird, you're making it weird by wanting to shower with your adult brother."
Eli looked up from the couch where he had settled, his eyes narrowing with that familiar suspicion. "Riley, don't make it weird. The shower is big enough for both of you. You've shared it before. You can share it again."
Riley's heart sank. He could feel the honey packs starting to take full effect, a warm, insistent pressure building in his groin that made his tiny cocklet throb with unwanted need. He could already picture the scene, the cramped shower stall, the hot water cascading down their bodies, Dennis's massive ass pressed against him, the way his brother would back up and grind against him because he was hogging all the water. His cocklet twitched again, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force the image out of his head.
"Fine," he said, the word coming out strained. "Fine. But you stay on your side of the shower. Don't touch me. Don't even look at me."
Dennis grinned, that same annoying, knowing grin that made Riley want to punch him in the face. "Whatever you say, big bro."
---
The shower was exactly as terrible as Riley had imagined. The stall was small, barely big enough for two people, and Dennis was taking up way more than his fair share of the space. His massive post-Vanishing ass was pressed against Riley's thigh, the soft, plush cheeks brushing against his skin with every movement. The hot water cascaded down Dennis's back, steam filling the small space and making everything feel even more intimate.
"Could you move a little?" Riley said, his voice strained, his eyes fixed firmly on the tile wall in front of him. "You're hogging all the water."
"I'm not hogging anything. You're just too far away."
"I'm not too far away. You're taking up the whole shower with your big butt."
Dennis shifted, his ass brushing against Riley's hip in a way that made Riley's breath catch. "Better?"
"Worse. Much worse."
Riley squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think about anything else. Puppies. He thought about puppies. Soft, fluffy puppies with big eyes and wagging tails. Puppies playing in a field. Puppies chasing each other in circles. Puppies doing anything except what his brain was currently imagining. But no matter how hard he tried, the image of Dennis's massive, jiggling ass kept forcing its way back into his head.
Puppies. Think about puppies. Puppies running in a meadow. Puppies doing puppy things. Puppies that are definitely not Dennis.
Dennis shifted again, his ass pressing more firmly against Riley's thigh. "You okay, bro? You look kinda tense."
"I'm fine," Riley said, his voice coming out higher than he intended. "I'm totally fine. I'm great. I'm thinking about puppies."
"Puppies?"
"Just... puppies. They're cute. I like puppies."
Dennis gave him a weird look but didn't say anything. He just turned back to the water, his massive ass still brushing against Riley's hip, his curves pressing against his brother's body in a way that made Riley's heart race and his tiny cocklet throb with unwanted need.
Riley didn't know how he made it through the rest of that shower. He focused on the puppies with the intensity of a man trying to survive a war, picturing them in every possible scenario, running, playing, eating, sleeping, doing anything except what his body was desperately trying to do. By the time he finally stepped out of the shower, his skin was wrinkled and his mind was exhausted, but he had made it. He had not gotten hard. He had won.
He toweled off quickly, pulling on a pair of loose shorts and a baggy t-shirt, and practically fled back to his shared room. He collapsed onto his bunk, his heart still racing, his body still buzzing with the lingering effects of the honey packs and the shower and the way Dennis's ass had pressed against him.
He heard the shower turn off in the distance. Dennis would be in there for at least another thirty minutes, maybe longer if he decided to jerk off like Riley knew he sometimes did. That was plenty of time. Plenty of time to relieve the pressure that had been building since dinner.
Riley's hand reached for his nightstand, fingers closing around the familiar shape of his tight latex anal fleshlight. He pulled it out, already slick with lube from earlier, and set it on the bed beside him. His laptop was already open, the screen glowing with the familiar tabs he had left open before dinner. Femboy porn. His favorite kind. The kind that made him forget everything except the need.
He scrolled through the options, his eyes scanning the thumbnails until he found one that made his cocklet twitch. A femboy with pastel pink hair was bent over a pool table, his massive ass on full display, his hole winking invitingly at the camera. The caption read "Stuck Under The Pool Table - Help Me Out?" and Riley clicked on it immediately.
The video loaded, showing the pink-haired femboy trapped underneath the table, his body contorted in a way that made his ass jut out perfectly. Another femboy, this one with bright blue hair and a cheeky grin, walked into frame, his tiny cocklet already hard and leaking.
"Well, well, well," the blue-haired one said, his voice dripping with predatory amusement. "Look what we have here. A cute little thing stuck under a table. How did you get yourself into this mess?"
"I don't know," the pink-haired one whimpered, pushing his ass back. "I was trying to get my phone and I slipped and now I can't get out. Please, I need help. I need someone to pull me out."
"I can pull you out," the blue-haired one said, stepping closer. "But I'm gonna need some compensation. You know, for my time. My effort. My mouth."
The pink-haired one moaned, his hips twitching. "Anything. I'll give you anything. Just please, I need to feel something inside me. I've been stuck like this for so long. I need to feel full." (Im making this porn plot as basic as possible)
Riley's hand was already moving, the fleshlight wrapped around his tiny cocklet, the tight latex gripping him in a way that made his eyes roll back. He bit his lip, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as the video continued. The blue-haired femboy was behind the pink-haired one now, his tiny cocklet pressing against that waiting hole, the wet, obscene sounds of their joining filling the room.
"AHHH—yes—yes—fuck—it feels so good—so full—AHHH—AHHH—AHHH—!"
The fleshlight was tight, so tight, and Riley's hips were bucking into it, his hand flying, his body trembling with the need to cum. The video was reaching its climax, both femboys moaning and crying out, their bodies trembling, their tiny cocks pulsing as they came together in a messy, satisfying explosion of pleasure.
Riley was right there, right on the edge, his balls drawn up tight, his tiny cocklet pulsing in the tight latex grip—
The door swung open.
Riley's eyes flew wide. His hand froze. His heart slammed against his ribs as he scrambled to shut the laptop and shove the fleshlight under his pillow, his face burning with a heat that had nothing to do with the shower.
Dennis stood in the doorway, his ginger hair still damp from the shower, a towel slung low around his hips. His eyes narrowed, scanning the room with that same annoying suspicion he always carried.
"What were you doing?"
"Nothing," Riley said, his voice coming out too high, too fast. "I wasn't doing anything. I was just... reading. Yeah. Reading. On my laptop. Very boring stuff. You wouldn't be interested."
Dennis's eyes flicked to the pillow, where the fleshlight was barely hidden, then back to Riley's face. "You were jerking off, weren't you?"
"I was not jerking off."
"You were totally jerking off. I can tell. Your face is all red and you're breathing funny."
"I'm not breathing funny. You're the one who's breathing funny. You're the one who just got out of the shower and is standing there in a towel like some kind of pervert."
"I'm not a pervert, you're the pervert. I just wanted to see if you were okay because you were acting weird earlier."
"I'm fine. I'm totally fine. I'm the most fine person in this entire house. Can you just leave?"
Dennis shrugged, that same annoying, indifferent shrug that made Riley want to strangle him. "Whatever. I'm going to bed. Try not to stain the sheets."
He turned and walked out, the door clicking shut behind him. Riley let out a long, shaky breath, his whole body sagging with relief. He looked down at the pillow, at the barely-hidden fleshlight, and groaned softly.
---
Riley stared at the ceiling of the top bunk, his eyes wide open in the darkness. The faint glow of the streetlight filtered through the cheap blinds, casting long, distorted shadows across the walls and the pile of clothes on the floor.
The room was quiet, too quiet, the only sounds the soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen and the occasional creak of the old house settling.
Dennis was asleep on the bottom bunk, his breathing slow and steady, the gentle rhythm of it somehow making the silence even louder.
Riley's mind was racing, a chaotic whirlwind of thoughts that refused to settle. He kept replaying the shower, the way Dennis's massive ass had pressed against his thigh, the way his brother's curves had brushed against his skin with every movement.
He had managed to control himself then, thinking about puppies and anything else that could distract him from the unwanted, inappropriate heat building in his groin. But now, lying in the dark with nothing but his own thoughts to keep him company, the images were flooding back.
This is so weird. So, so weird. Why did I even think about that? Why did my body react that way? He's my brother. My little brother. I've known him my whole life. I taught him how to ride a bike. I helped him with his homework. And now I'm lying here thinking about... about that. About his curves. About the way his ass looked in the shower. About the way it felt pressed against me.
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force the images out of his head. Puppies. Think about puppies. Fluffy puppies with big eyes and floppy ears. Puppies doing puppy things. Puppies running in a field. Puppies chasing their tails. Puppies being completely, utterly non-sexual. Just puppies. That's all. Just puppies.
But no matter how hard he tried, the image of Dennis's body kept creeping back in. The soft curve of his hips. The plush swell of his ass. The way his skin had looked under the shower water, slick and glistening and impossibly inviting.
This is so messed up. I need to get a grip. I need to get control of myself. I'm not some horny teenager who can't control his urges. I'm an adult. A mature, responsible adult who knows better than to think about his brother in that way. Right? RIGHT?
He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He focused on his breathing, slow and steady, in through the nose and out through the mouth. He counted his breaths, one, two, three, four, trying to clear his mind and push the unwanted thoughts away.
But then another thought crept in, even more unsettling than the first. He glanced at the clock on his nightstand, the red numbers glowing in the darkness. 11:58 PM. Two minutes until midnight. Two minutes until January 7th. Two minutes until Dennis's eighteenth birthday.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. He's going to be eighteen. He's going to be a legal adult. And I'm lying here thinking about... about him. About his body. About what it would feel like to touch him. This is so fucked up. So, so fucked up. Why is this happening? Why can't I control my own thoughts?
He squeezed his eyes shut again, focusing on his breathing with all the intensity of a man trying to survive a war. Puppies. Puppies. Puppies. Puppies. Just puppies. Nothing but puppies. Fluffy, adorable, completely non-sexual puppies. Think about all the puppies in the world. Every single puppy. All the puppies in the whole universe. That's what you need to think about.
The clock on the nightstand ticked over. 11:59 PM. One minute left. Riley's heart was pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears, a frantic, rhythmic thumping that seemed to echo through the quiet room. He could feel the heat building in his groin again, that familiar, unwanted pressure that made his tiny cocklet twitch with desperate need.
One more minute. Just one more minute. If I can just make it through one more minute, everything will be fine. I can control this. I can control myself. I am the master of my own body. I am strong. I am disciplined. I am...
The clock ticked over. 12:00 AM. January 7th. Dennis's eighteenth birthday.
Riley's breath caught in his throat. His heart was hammering so hard he could barely breathe. He looked down at the bottom bunk, where Dennis was still asleep, his body curled on its side, his massive ass sticking out just slightly from under the thin blanket that had slipped down in the night. The streetlight caught the curve of his hips, the soft swell of his cheeks, the way his body seemed to glow in the darkness.
Riley swallowed hard. His hand reached out, trembling, toward the edge of the bunk. He could feel the warmth radiating from Dennis's body, the soft rhythm of his breathing, the way his chest rose and fell with each slow, peaceful breath.
He was about to touch it. His fingers were inches away from the curve of his brother's ass, the soft, plush flesh that had been pressing against him in the shower. He could almost feel it, the warmth, the softness, the way it would yield under his fingers. His hand shook, hovering in the air, frozen in place.
If I touch him... if I touch him, I'll want more. If I touch him, I'll want to hump him. And if I hump him... I don't know what I'll do. I don't know if I'll be able to stop.
He pulled his hand back, his whole body trembling with the effort. He climbed back up onto his bunk, his movements stiff and jerky, and lay down on his back, his eyes fixed on the ceiling once more. His heart was still racing, but his breathing was starting to slow, the panic gradually fading into something quieter, more controlled.
He had controlled his urges. He had resisted the temptation. He had proven to himself that he was stronger than his own desires.
For now.
The word hung in the air like a promise, a threat, a warning of things to come. For now, he had controlled himself. For now, he had resisted. But what about tomorrow? What about the next day? What about all the days after that, when Dennis would be eighteen and legal and his body would still be just as tempting as it was tonight?
Riley closed his eyes, his breathing evening out, his body slowly relaxing into the mattress. He could still feel the ghost of Dennis's warmth on his fingertips, the memory of how close he had come to crossing a line he could never uncross.
For now.
---
The living room was a disaster zone of wrapping paper, colorful ribbons, and the kind of chaotic energy that only came from a house full of teenage femboys on a birthday morning. The orange throw pillows that Eli insisted on having everywhere had been shoved to the floor to make room for presents, and the orange rug was covered in torn paper and discarded gift tags. Dennis sat in the center of it all, his ginger hair still messy from sleep, his freckled face flushed with excitement as he tore through his presents with the enthusiasm of a kid who had been waiting for this day for months.
Eli had gone all out. The vintage 2026 Kawasaki sat in the driveway, its sleek black frame gleaming under the morning sun, a massive red bow wrapped around the handlebars. Dennis had screamed when he saw it, actually screamed, his voice cracking with pure, unfiltered joy. He had thrown his arms around his dad and squeezed so hard Eli had to tap out.
Riley's present was more modest but no less meaningful. Twenty tickets, each one a "1 Free No Questions Asked Ride" pass, printed on bright red cardstock and tucked into a small velvet pouch. Dennis had raised an eyebrow when he opened it, a slow, knowing grin spreading across his face.
"Twenty rides, huh?" Dennis had said, his voice carrying that teasing edge that made Riley's stomach flip. "That's a lot of rides, big bro. You sure you can handle all that?"
Riley had forced a laugh, his cheeks flushing. "I'm sure I can handle it. I'm very generous. It's one of my best qualities."
The friends had arrived shortly after the presents were opened, three femboys who had known Dennis since elementary school and had somehow survived all the chaos that came with being his closest friends. They spilled through the front door like a small hurricane, their voices overlapping in a chorus of excited greetings and birthday wishes.
Malekai was the first one through the door, a tiny thing barely reaching five feet tall, with long black hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail that swung with every movement. He had at least twenty piercings scattered across his face and ears, tiny silver rings and studs that caught the light and sparkled like constellations. His massive post-Vanishing ass was barely contained by his tight black jeans, the fabric straining with every step, and his crop top showed off the smooth curve of his stomach and the faint outline of his abs.
Randy followed close behind, a solid country boy with broad shoulders and a thick drawl that made every word sound like it had been dipped in honey and left out in the sun. He was shorter than Malekai, compact and muscular, with sandy blond hair and a face full of freckles that made him look younger than his nineteen years. His hunting fanatic side was visible in the camo print hoodie he wore, the fabric stretched tight across his chest and the dramatic flare of his hips.
Lander came last, the closest of Dennis's friends, a slim femboy with kind eyes and a shy smile that made him look like he was perpetually about to apologize for something. He was eighteen, just three days older than Dennis, and the two of them had been inseparable since kindergarten. His body was lean and graceful, with the same exaggerated curves that seemed to be the default for everyone under thirty-five, but there was something softer about him, something that made you want to protect him even when he didn't need protecting.
"Happy birthday, Dennis!" Malekai squealed, launching himself at the birthday boy and wrapping him in a tight hug. "You're finally eighteen! You can do all the things you were already doing but now it's legal!" (real)
Dennis laughed, hugging him back. "Thanks, Mal. I feel so much older already. I think I can feel my back starting to hurt."
Randy clapped him on the shoulder, his big hand nearly covering the entire curve of Dennis's shoulder. "Don't worry, man. Eighteen's just the beginning. You got a whole life of back pain ahead of you."
"And terrible decisions," Lander added, his voice soft and teasing. "Don't forget the terrible decisions."
"Never," Dennis agreed. "I'm going to make so many terrible decisions this year. It's going to be legendary."
The presents started flowing, a mix of genuine gifts and the kind of joke presents that only close friends could get away with. Randy went first, handing over a package wrapped in brown paper that looked like it had been reused from a previous birthday. Dennis tore it open and pulled out a pair of white crop tops, a set of booty shorts, and a pair of hoop earrings that sparkled with cheap rhinestones.
"Since you're the cutest out of all of us," Randy said, his drawl thick with amusement, "maybe you should dress a bit more revealing. Show off what you got. Let everyone know what they're missing."
Dennis held up the crop top, his eyebrow raised. "You're joking, right?"
"I'm completely serious. I think you'd look amazing in that. All those curves, all that soft skin, you'd be the talk of the town."
Dennis shrugged, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Fine. I'll try it on. See what all the fuss is about."
He stood up and walked toward the bathroom, his hips swaying with exaggerated confidence, leaving his friends staring after him with identical expressions of surprise. The bathroom door clicked shut, and the living room fell into a sudden, awkward silence.
Riley's heart was pounding. He could already picture it, Dennis in that crop top, those booty shorts, those hoops swinging with every movement. His brother was already beautiful, already curvy, already everything Riley had been trying not to think about. Dressing him up like that was only going to make it worse.
The bathroom door opened, and Dennis stepped out.
Riley's breath caught in his throat. His mouth went dry. His entire body went rigid as he took in the sight of his brother.
The white crop top hugged Dennis's torso like a second skin, the fabric riding up just enough to show a strip of smooth, pale stomach and the faint outline of his abs. The booty shorts were impossibly tight, the fabric stretched taut across the massive curve of his ass, leaving little to the imagination. The hoop earrings swung with every movement, catching the light and drawing attention to the sharp line of his jaw and the graceful curve of his neck. His ginger hair was still messy from sleep, falling in wild waves around his flushed, freckled face, and his eyes were bright with that familiar, teasing mischief.
"Well," Dennis said, his voice dropping into a low, playful register that made Riley's heart skip a beat, "how do I look?"
The room was silent. Malekai's mouth was hanging open, his piercings glinting as his jaw worked uselessly. Randy's eyes were wide, his drawl completely gone, replaced by a stammer that made him sound like a broken record.
"I—I—you look—you look—"
Lander was the worst of all. His shy smile had vanished, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated panic. His cheeks were bright red, his eyes darting everywhere except Dennis's body, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.
"You look good," Lander finally managed, his voice cracking on the last word. "Really good. Like, really, really good."
Dennis laughed, the sound bright and teasing. "Thanks, Lander. I knew you'd appreciate it."
Riley couldn't look away. He tried, he really did, but his eyes kept drifting back to the curve of Dennis's hips, the swell of his ass, the way the crop top hugged his chest. He could feel the heat building in his groin, that familiar, unwanted pressure that made his tiny cocklet twitch with desperate need. He crossed his legs quickly, shifting his position to hide the obvious tent forming in his shorts.
This is so bad. This is so, so bad. Why did I have to look? Why did I have to see him like that? He's my brother. My little brother. And I'm sitting here getting hard just looking at him. What is wrong with me? What is actually wrong with me?
Lander's present was the next one, a small box wrapped in silver paper that he handed to Dennis with trembling fingers. Dennis tore it open, revealing a sleek, fleshlight, the kind that came with a suction cup base and a textured interior that promised hours of endless pleasure. The room went silent again.
"It's a joke present," Lander said quickly, his voice high and defensive. "You know, because you're eighteen now and you can legally buy that stuff, so I thought it would be funny to give you one and—"
Dennis's grin turned slow and predatory. He held up the fleshlight, turning it over in his hands with exaggerated interest. "How about you watch me use it, then?"
Lander's face went nuclear red. He made a strangled sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a whimper, his hands flying up to hide his burning cheeks. He ducked behind Malekai, pulling his hoodie up over his head like a turtle retreating into its shell. "I hate you. I absolutely hate you. I'm never talking to you again."
Dennis laughed, the sound bright and triumphant. "That's what I thought."
Eli rolled his eyes from the corner, his expression a mixture of exasperation and reluctant amusement. "These kids are going to give me an aneurysm. I'm stepping out for a beer."
He grabbed his keys and headed for the door, leaving the five femboys alone in the living room with the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.
Riley looked at his brother, really looked at him, and felt his heart sink. Since when was Dennis so flirty? Since when did he have that kind of confidence, that kind of swagger that made everyone in the room weak at the knees? He had always been cute, always been sweet, but this was something else. This was dangerous.
Since when is he so good at this? Since when does he know exactly what to say to make everyone squirm? I've never seen him like this. He's always been shy, always been the quiet one. But now he's full on flirting, and everyone's eating it up. And I'm sitting here getting hard just watching him. What is wrong with me?
Malekai stepped forward, his piercings glinting as he cleared his throat. His voice was nervous, stuttering, completely unlike the confident energy he usually carried. "I—I got you something too. It's—it's just a joke, okay? A stupid joke."
He handed Dennis a long, thin box wrapped in pink paper. Dennis opened it slowly, pulling out a pink dildo that was easily six inches long, with a realistic texture and a suction cup base that made it look almost like the real thing. The room went dead silent.
Dennis held it up, examining it with the same exaggerated interest he had given the fleshlight. His grin widened, that same predatory edge creeping back into his expression. "How about I use it on you, then?"
Malekai's face went bright red. His piercings jingled as his jaw dropped open, his stutter returning with a vengeance. "I—I—that's not—that's not what I—"
Dennis stepped closer, the dildo still in his hand, his voice dropping into that low, playful register that made everyone in the room shiver. "What's wrong, Mal? You were so confident a minute ago. What happened to all that teasing?"
Malekai's mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. He looked like a fish gasping for air, his cheeks burning, his hands fluttering uselessly at his sides. The teasing had completely lost its effect, replaced by something much more dangerous.
Riley couldn't take it anymore. He stood up abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor, his voice coming out strained and desperate. "I need a vape break. I'll be back."
He fled the room, not waiting for a response, and burst through the front door into the cool January air. He leaned against the railing of the porch, his heart pounding, his body trembling, his mind still full of the image of Dennis in that crop top, those booty shorts, that wicked grin.
I need to get a grip. I need to get control of myself. This is my brother we're talking about. My little brother. I can't be thinking about him like this. I can't be getting hard just looking at him. I have to stop this before it goes too far.
---
Riley leaned against the railing of the front porch, the cool January air biting at his exposed skin through his thin crop top. He brought his vape pen to his lips and took a long, slow drag, letting the vapor fill his lungs before releasing it in a cloud that dissipated into the gray morning sky. The pen was his lifeline, his escape from the chaos that had been brewing inside the house, his way of calming the frantic racing of his heart and the persistent, unwanted heat that had been building in his groin since he saw Dennis in that outfit.
He had been standing out here for what felt like forever, taking drag after drag, letting the familiar burn of the vapor ground him. The house was quiet behind him, the muffled sounds of laughter and conversation filtering through the walls, but Riley couldn't bring himself to go back inside. Not yet. Not while his mind was still reeling from the image of his brother in that crop top, those booty shorts, those hoop earrings swinging with every movement.
Just a few more minutes. Just a few more minutes and I'll be calm enough to go back in. I just need to clear my head. I just need to forget about the way he looked. The way his ass curved in those shorts. The way his stomach showed through that crop top. I need to forget all of it and just be normal.
He took another drag, but this time nothing came out. He looked down at the vape pen, frowning, and pressed the button again. Nothing. He pressed it again, harder, and still nothing. The pen was dead. Completely, utterly empty.
"Fucking hell," Riley muttered, shaking the pen in frustration. "Are you serious? Right now? I need you right now and you're empty? What kind of bullshit is this?"
He shoved the pen into his pocket, his jaw tight with irritation. He had been standing out here for at least thirty minutes, maybe more, trying to calm himself down, and now his vape pen was empty and he had nothing to show for it except frozen fingers and a growing sense of dread.
He glanced at his phone. 11:47 AM. He had been gone for almost forty minutes. Forty minutes of standing on the porch, avoiding his brother, avoiding his own thoughts, avoiding the inevitable moment when he would have to go back inside and face the chaos he had left behind.
He took a deep breath, steadying himself, and pushed open the front door.
The living room was empty.
Riley blinked, his eyes scanning the space. The wrapping paper was still scattered across the floor, the presents still piled on the coffee table, but the people were gone. Dennis, Malekai, Randy, Lander, all of them had vanished into thin air. The fleshlight and dildo that had been the center of the teasing were also gone, nowhere to be seen.
"Hello?" Riley called out, his voice echoing in the empty room. "Dennis? Guys? Where did everyone go?"
No answer. The house was silent, the only sound the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen and the distant ticking of the clock on the wall. Riley's brow furrowed, a knot of unease tightening in his stomach.
What the hell? Where did they all go? Did they leave? Did they go somewhere without telling me? That's weird. That's really weird. They wouldn't just leave without saying anything. Not on Dennis's birthday.
He climbed the stairs slowly, his footsteps heavy on the worn carpet. The upstairs hallway was quiet, the doors to the bedrooms closed. He approached his shared room with Dennis, the one with the bunk beds and the scattered clothes and the faint smell of cheap body spray that always seemed to linger in the air. He pushed the door open and felt his blood run cold.
The scene before him was surreal.
Dennis, Malekai, Randy, and Lander were all crowded onto the bottom bunk, their bodies pressed together in the cramped space, their eyes fixed on Riley's laptop screen. The fleshlight and dildo were discarded on the floor, forgotten, their purpose irrelevant compared to the content playing on the screen. The four of them were kneeling on the bed, their massive post-Vanishing asses sticking out at various angles, their faces illuminated by the glow of the laptop.
And on that screen, playing in high definition, was the kind of porn that made Riley's heart race and his blood boil. A femboy with dark hair and a massive ass was being railed from behind by another femboy, his tiny cocklet leaking as the other femboy's hips snapped forward with brutal, relentless rhythm. The sounds were unmistakable, the wet PLAP-PLAP-PLAP of skin on skin, the high, breathy moans of the femboy being fucked, the low, guttural grunts of the one doing the fucking.
"I can't believe you found this," Dennis was saying, his voice hushed with awe. "I didn't even know this kind of stuff existed. I've only ever seen thirst traps on TikTok or some locker room shenanigans. This is... this is amazing."
"I know, right?" Malekai replied, his piercings glinting as he leaned closer to the screen. "It's like... I don't know how to describe it. It's so detailed. The sounds, the angles, everything. It's like you're right there with them."
"We should probably stop," Lander said, his voice small and uncertain. "This is Riley's laptop. He's probably going to find out we were watching stuff on it."
"I mean, he's not here," Randy said, his country drawl thick with amusement. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him."
Riley's veins popped in his neck. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. His voice came out low and dangerous, cutting through the room like a blade.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
All four of them spun around, their faces a mix of shock, fear, and embarrassment. Dennis's cheeks flushed bright red, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to form words. Malekai's piercings jingled as he scrambled to close the laptop, his hands shaking. Randy's drawl was completely gone, replaced by a stammer that made him sound like a broken record. Lander pulled his hoodie over his face, a muffled cry of shame escaping from under the fabric.
"Riley! I—we—it's not what it looks like!" Dennis said, his voice cracking with panic. "I swear, we were just—we were curious—we've never seen porn like that before—"
"You've never seen porn like that before," Riley repeated, his voice flat and cold. "So you decided to watch it on my laptop. Without asking. While I was outside."
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! It was my idea—I suggested it—I wanted to see what real porn looked like because I've only ever seen TikTok thirst traps and some stuff in the locker room—"
"Bend over."
Dennis froze. His eyes went wide, his mouth dropping open. "What?"
"Bend over," Riley repeated, his voice low and commanding. "Right now. On the bed."
Dennis didn't argue. He turned around slowly, his body trembling, and bent over the edge of the bunk bed, his massive ass presented perfectly, his hands gripping the mattress for support. His booty shorts were still on, the fabric stretched tight across the curve of his cheeks, and Riley could see the faint outline of his hole through the thin material.
The other three femboys watched in stunned silence, their eyes wide, their bodies frozen in place. They had never seen Riley like this, had never seen the quiet, controlled facade crack open to reveal the raw, dominant energy underneath.
Riley moved fast, yanking Dennis's booty shorts down around his ankles in one sharp motion. The cool air hit Dennis's exposed skin, making him shiver. Riley was already behind him, his own shorts shoved down, his tiny cocklet rock hard and leaking.
He pushed in hard, one brutal thrust that made Dennis scream.
"AHHHHH—RILEY—FUCK—!"
The sound was high and broken, a mix of shock and desperate pleasure. Riley didn't give him time to adjust. He started thrusting fast, his hips snapping forward with relentless rhythm, his balls slapping against Dennis's ass with wet, obscene slaps. PLAP—PLAP—PLAP—PLAP—PLAP—the sound filled the room, drowning out Dennis's constant stream of broken moans.
"AHHH—AHHH—AHHH—RILEY—PLEASE—IT'S SO DEEP—AHHHHH—!"
Riley grabbed Dennis's hips and flipped him over, shoving him onto his back and folding his legs up over his head. The mating press. Dennis's massive ass was tilted up, his hole exposed and glistening, and Riley drove into him with savage, punishing thrusts that made Dennis's eyes roll back and his voice crack into incoherent screams.
"YES—YES—RIGHT THERE—AHHH—DON'T STOP—DON'T EVER STOP—!"
But Riley did stop. He pulled out abruptly, the wet pop echoing through the room, and shoved Dennis onto his stomach, his face pressed into the mattress, his ass raised high. The pile driver. He drove into him from above, his hips pistoning down with brutal force, his weight pressing Dennis into the bed.
PLAP—PLAP—PLAP—PLAP—PLAP—the sounds were relentless, wet and violent, mixing with Dennis's constant, desperate moans. Riley's hand was tangled in Dennis's ginger hair, yanking his head back, and he drove his cock deep into Dennis's throat, skull-fucking him with deep, punishing strokes.
GLUCK—GLUCK—GLUCK—GLUCK—GLUCK—
Dennis gagged, his throat convulsing around the invasion, his eyes streaming tears. But he didn't pull away. He stayed there, taking it, his body trembling with pleasure and submission.
All of this happened in under five minutes.
Riley pulled out just as he felt his climax building, his chest heaving, his body trembling with the effort of holding back. He looked down at Dennis, who was a mess of tears and spit and desperate need, and his voice came out cold and commanding.
"You don't get to cum unless I say so."
He turned to the other three, who were still frozen in place, their eyes wide, their bodies trembling with anticipation.
"Neither do any of you."
The next two hours were a blur of relentless fucking. Riley worked through all four of them with savage, aggressive precision, a hate fuck that left them all crying and begging and completely wrecked. He put them in every position imaginable, missionary, doggy, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, pile driver, mating press, and more. He fucked them with a brutal, punishing rhythm that made their voices crack and their bodies convulse.
He fucked them all into a pile on the floor, their bodies tangled together, their holes stretched and leaking, their faces streaked with tears of overwhelming pleasure.
Riley sat down on the bottom bunk, his massive cock still hard and leaking, and gestured for them to come to him. They crawled forward on trembling hands and knees, their eyes glassy, their bodies shaking with aftershocks.
"Service me," Riley said, his voice low and commanding. "All of you."
They descended on him like starving animals, their mouths and hands working together to worship his cock and balls. Dennis took the head, his tongue swirling with desperate enthusiasm. Malekai and Randy worked the shaft, their tongues lapping and licking in messy, eager strokes. Lander cupped his balls, rolling them gently, pressing soft kisses to the sensitive skin.
Riley groaned, his head falling back, his hand tangling in Dennis's ginger hair. "That's it. That's my good little sluts. Every single one of you belongs to me now. Your asses. Your holes. Your bodies. All of it is mine. You understand?"
"Yes, Riley," they moaned in unison, their voices overlapping, their mouths never stopping their worship.
"Whose holes are these?"
"Yours, Riley. All of them. All of us."
"Whose sluts are you?"
"Yours. Always yours."
"Good fucking sluts."
The door slammed open.
Eli stood in the doorway, a six-pack of beer in his hand, his face frozen in an expression of pure, unfiltered shock. His eyes swept across the scene, the four femboys on their knees, the massive cock in their mouths, the wrecked bodies and the desperate need in their eyes.
"Sorry guys, I took too long I went out to buy some bee—"
He stopped. His jaw dropped. The beer slipped from his fingers and crashed to the floor, a foamy mess spreading across the carpet.
"WHAT THE FUCK, RILEY!?"
Riley scratched the back of his neck and stuck his tongue out playfully, "oopsie"