1. The Second Son
Growing up sucks, especially as a second son in the family. And that’s when you aren’t carrying a load of other baggage as puberty kicks you in the balls. What other baggage, you ask? Try being mildly dyslexic, sexually attracted to other guys, and having an unusually large cock. As in fairly large and having only half a foreskin—and a body with an athletic build without being any good at sport. I just look like I’m a big athlete or a movie star. I’m not … My older brother is, and though Glynn’s got a good physique, it’s the result of exercise and work on the farm. Mine is mostly, well, just ‘natural’. From around ten I’ve had a ‘sculpted’ body. It looks as if I’ve spent hours in a gym bodybuilding. I haven’t, and even as a preteen, I had the kind of build that looks ‘built’.
It got worse through my teens. Where all the other guys grew hair ‘down there’ I didn’t, but my nipples, always larger than my brothers, got even more prominent. I developed no hair anywhere except on my head. None in my crotch, no beard, nothing under my arms or anywhere else. I developed this ‘toned’ body, my cock got longer and thicker and I got an erection at the most awkward and inconvenient moments—just being close to an attractive guy was enough. The give away was that my nipples stiffened and the ‘teats’ hardened. Glynn loved to tease me by stimulating them!
In gym classes the teacher was convinced I should be this super athlete—and I’m not. At least his ‘hitting’ on me gave me some relief from my supercharged sex drive. The worst of being pushed in athletics is I’m clumsy, and unco-ordinated, which made me a target for the guys who liked to think they were big ‘jocks’, but couldn’t match my physique.
To add to the physical stuff I was getting vivid erotic dreams. These weren’t ordinary either, they involved Gay sex, but with bondage, rubber and often orgy scenes.
My Dad was sympathetic, but always dodged the ‘why me?’ questions, muttering something about it being an inherited problem. It was something he just didn’t want to talk about, and kept putting off his promise that ‘I’ll explain when I have time …’ and as a single parent running quite a large farm, he never seemed to have ‘time’. Worse, as I grew older, he wouldn’t talk about it with me at all. He and my Uncle Rob argued almost every time Rob visited, always being careful to not be overheard and eventually Rob stopped visiting as frequently as he had.
Running a very large farm, and related businesses took up a lot of Dad’s time, though Glynn and I couldn’t complain. After all he was very supportive in everything but ‘my problem’. My school grades improved thanks to the little packages of learning notes Tynan posted or couriered to me, and as I was now bigger and stronger than most of the bullies, I managed to stay out of trouble and under almost everyone’s radar—except the gym master, that is, but that wasn’t exactly unwelcome. At least I got my balls emptied regularly.
We live in a large old house—an early Georgian farmhouse of two storeys and a basement—which gave us plenty of room, and Dad’s ‘office’ was in the ‘study’. The family is not exactly rich—as in we aren’t rolling in money— but we certainly don’t have a shortage of cash. Dad was sometimes too generous to me when I needed money—I suppose, looking back, to compensate for his refusal to discuss my ‘problem’.
As I grew and began to learn more about it, I realised that we’re ‘asset rich’ with land and property that provides incomes for family members, including Uncle Rob, Uncle Tynan and Dad’s now retired father, Ruahrig.There’s a very valuable house in the city, free standing in its own grounds and surrounded by a wall. My Uncle Rob lives in it with my father’s uncle—Tynan. Rob’s a writer, and Ty is an historian. At least I know that when I have to find a job someday, I’ll be able to blag a room with them while I look for my own place. Technically its all owned by a Family Trust—which is not short of cash either—and I’ll have a small allowance until I find a career. At least, that’s what my father hints at …
We have a lot of relatives, but the house and farm has stayed in a direct line of descent from the ancestor that first established himself and his family here. The curious part of that is the family always produces two sons, naturally the eldest always inherits the farm and house, but the second—me in our case—was also well catered for.
Our Grandfather Ruarig lived in a smaller house on the far edge of the farm in ‘retirement’ and visited frequently until our grandmother died. He always rather spoiled my brother and I and loved to talk about growing up with his brother. Then he decided to ‘see the world’ and travelled until he was forced to settle down some distance away. He then took up a hobby creating miniature models. His younger brother, Tynan, our Dad’s uncle, visited occasionally stopping with us to say hi on his way to Gramps, and like Uncle Rob, had a fantastic physique. He was fun, had a great sense of humour and I loved his visits. Where Gramps aged, Ty didn’t seem to, but he stopped visiting about the time I hit puberty, though he stayed in touch, and frequently sent what he called ‘learning aids’ which helped a lot.
Ty had always enquired about school, what I was learning, my hobbies and the like. School was a bit tricky as I am dyslexic, and have trouble reading. My favourite subject at school was art, and he encouraged me to develop it and helped me with my studies by creating simple to read ‘notes’ that meant I stayed on top of schoolwork.
Getting Tynan to talk about our history and the history of our county was fascinating, even when we were small. Sometimes I’d hear him arguing with my father when I was small and far more interested in playing with whatever toy or game he or Rob had brought for Glynn and I. Then Ty’s visits stopped, largely because he was visiting Gramps Ruarig in his ‘home’ some distance away. This was right about the time puberty attacked me …
At school Glynn got into a lot of fights ‘defending’ me from arseholes who liked to pick on boys like me. My large nipples were a bit of a magnet for the bully squad, and as for ‘down there’ … A year older than me, we hit puberty pretty close to one another, and Glynn occasionally joined me in exploring sex. Mostly just masturbation, but sometimes he let me give him ‘head’ and often comforted me with it after a bad day at school. I’ve already mentioned that he enjoyed ‘teasing’ my nipples—not realising they were hot wired to my cock at first. Then I made him give me hand relief and let me enjoy his cock in my mouth. There were fewer fights once I started to grow—even though I rarely fought. One advantage of being so ‘sculpted’ …
It all came to a head shortly before my eighteenth birthday, after a rough day trying to keep myself in hand as I prepared to sit my final exams. I cornered my Dad and forced him to listen to my long tale of woes. Even dropped my pants and made him take a good long look at my long thick cock—which promptly went hard—and lifted my shirt and showed him my nipples.
“I can guess, kiddo.” Trying not to see my raging hard on, he sighed. “Get yourself covered again, Eon. I’ll ring Uncle Rob. He and Uncle Ty had the same problem growing up. He’ll know how to deal with it and … He’ll be better at explaining … everything.” He watched as I struggled to get my erection more or less back into my tight briefs, standing as I pulled my loose denim bib overall up. Giving me a hug, he kissed my cheek. “Meantime I’ll see if I can get you something that will control these erections for you.”
Uncle Rob, Dad’s brother, is built like a Greek god, and made no effort to hide that fact he’s an out and out Gay and into some sort of fetish. He has that sculpted look to his physique that mine has. He has a rather nice ‘scent’, Glynn always says he smells like me—of rubber. His visits are infrequent, and, like Uncle Ty, he never stays overnight. As he and Dad always manage to argue over something at some point, he usually doesn’t stay too long. He’s always been a bit hands-offish with me, but in a nice way even though I’d have welcomed a hug and even some serious petting.
“Thanks, Dad.” Returning the hug, I grimaced. “It’s getting worse, and harder to hide. Especially now I need to find a job.”
“I can see that. It’s very complicated …” Sighing, he gave a defeated shrug. “I’ll talk to Rob. He’ll be able to explain it … I can’t.” Pausing, he held my hand, obviously uncomfortable and with a look that said he was trying to evade saying something. “Don’t worry about the job hunting … you’re not going to …” Shaking his head, he finished, “I’ll talk to him.”
Rob responded immediately, sending a small parcel which contained several strange looking jockstraps with a note to me explaining how to fit them—they had a kind of inner sheath—and promising he would help me ‘deal with it’. The accompanying note explained that the jockstraps would ‘control’ my erections and make it easier to be ‘normal’. It also suggested that he would come out to the farm and explain ‘our’ situation in full as soon as he could. The jockstraps internal sheath made my cock go numb and limp. It was actually quite a relief! Once on, they made my crotch appear no more prominent than anyone would expect in my jeans and, once I got used to them, allowed me a freedom I had not had for a while.
Uncle Rob arrived unannounced on my eighteenth birthday. I'd opted to celebrate it with a fabulous barbecue at home. I’d finished school two weeks before, and university wasn’t an option—my dyslexia made it unlikely I’d cope and my ‘other’ problem was now a big one. About the only subject I’d really excelled in was my art. I’d won prizes for it, but anything that required reading or deep study was—well, I’d managed to pass thanks to a lot of help, but … The dyslexia apart, I simply didn’t want to do anything that would mean enduring yet more struggling to study and exposure to the kind of sexual ambiguity I had to adopt at school. Besides I wanted to work on the farm, where my ‘problem’ wouldn’t be so obvious and I could simply avoid the kind of attention my body gets in a public environment—especially risking my almost overwhelming desire to have sex with any man that wanted to …
The dreams had been getting more and more vivid and my ‘development’ caused occasional remark and almost full-time embarrassment. It was as well we lived on a farm! Have I said Rob looks like a Greek god? His body looks even better than mine, despite being more than twenty years older than me. Chiseled, not a trace of fat anywhere, fantastic body, narrow hips, perfect proportions, muscular legs and arms and a face that makes heads turn.
The last of my guests had left just before Rob arrived in the late afternoon, with the sun low on the horizon. My father seemed to have expected this, and greeted his brother rather awkwardly, then stood aside as Rob walked to where I stood.
“Looking good, Eon,” he greeted me with a tight hug, the first time I could remember him actually embracing me. It felt good, and my cock strained in its prison—startling me by regaining feeling and trying get erect. Normally, with Rob, it was a quick handshake, almost as if he didn’t want body contact. He felt it too …
“Happy birthday. Did what I sent your Dad help?” Holding me against his muscled chest, he grinned. “I’ve got a rather unusual present for you I’m afraid.”
“Some. Get’s bloody uncomfortable when … but at least it doesn’t show! Or doesn’t usually—until just now anyway.” I laughed, enjoying the embrace and not wanting him to let go. I was surprised to feel that, like me, he was also hard—our stiff members pressed against each other as we hugged and I could feel his nipples, large, hard and pressed to mine. “Unusual? I hope it includes …”
I was wearing the special jockstrap he’d sent, and, until now, it had worked! It’s a very restrictive ‘jock strap’ held in place by adjustable straps. Inserting my cock into the sheath was tricky, but it immediately caused my member to go numb and lose any inclination to be hard. It certainly kept my unruly cock under control, and managed to do so without actually making it any more prominent than it already is.
“Until a few minutes ago …” Now, in his embrace, the jock wasn’t working. My cock was rigid, though still contained, and I could feel his against mine. “Thanks. Is this a kind of chastity belt?”
“Good.” He grinned. “Not really. If it was, your Dad or someone would have to lock it onto you. This is just a sort of ‘ control’ we need. I’m wearing one too.” Hesitating he put an arm across my shoulders, again surprising me with a quick squeeze. “It’s time you and I had a long talk, wanted to for a while now, but it's almost too late for talking. We share the same problem …” Greeting my father, he said, “Have you told him about our illustrious explorer ancestor—Falstaff?”
His embrace felt good, despite my erection, and all the better knowing he had one as well.
“No. I, um, just couldn’t … Especially after Marianne walked out …” My Dad shrugged, trying not to ‘see’ our now prominent bulges. “Eon’s had enough to deal with without all that other—business—to worry about on top of … Besides, I didn’t know how to tell him …” Meeting my look he added, “I didn’t want him worrying about his future …”
My Mum had dumped my Dad when I was about two. I’d never really known her, and all I really knew was that there’d been a big row about something in the family past and she’d disappeared from our lives completely. Since then we’d not had any contact with her, and no word of where she was, only that she wasn’t in any hardship.
“Who was ..?” The name clicked. “Oh, you mean the ancestor who did something bad and got cursed?” I looked from Rob to my Dad, laughing. “Glynn told me about it. Some ancestor called Falstaff … got turned into a statue or something and the family benefit from it. Nice fairy tale I think.”
“Cursed? Turned into a statue ..? Um, not quite, and, yes, we—the family—do benefit from his deal with … but it affects us, you and me, and we are the reason our family have the security we do.” Hesitating, he held me close. “He made a bargain with Qwedokoloshe, a … genie I guess you’d call him. The deal saved our ancestors life, and he got a deal that provides for the family … at a price.” Rob’s arm tightened on my shoulder. “Seems I’ll have to talk you through the whole damned story, chum. It affects me, and it affects you. It affects one member of the family in every generation. You’re ‘it’ in yours, and there’s no dodging it.”
“You mean it isn’t just a sort of legend to explain why old Falstaff dropped out of sight, and why you and Ty …?”
“It’s no legend or fairy story. Falstaff made a deal with an African god, or genie who is a bit unusual and … well … it affects you and me and Uncle Tynan for now.” He frowned as he looked at my father, “Really thought you’d have explained it to him by now, Gareth. Or you could have got me or Tynan in before this … Oh well.” His arm held me firmly. “Welcome to our rather special club, Eon. You and I need to be private so we can talk and I’ll try to explain …”
“Private?” Glancing at his expression, I looked at my Dad.
“Take him to your room, Eon, that’ll be best for what you have to …” He shrugged, looking unhappy. “I always hoped the damned hex would have faded or weakened … I thought deliberately choosing to defy …” Glancing at me, Dad added, “Sorry, Eon, I should have told you this …”
“Well the hex hasn’t skipped him, and now you’re almost too late. He would have been hit by it tonight at the latest without anyone to guide him. Damn it, he’s eighteen today. Did you think …,” snapped Rob. “I wrote to you when you first asked me to provide … and we’ve argued over this since he was born.” Putting his arm round my waist, he said, “Let’s go to your room and I’ll explain.” He snorted. “It’ll have to be a rapid ‘show and tell’ now.” Addressing my father, he said, “You know the ritual has to be performed … you and Glynn better go to the stables in about an hour. You know what's at stake if it isn't done.”
