A Private Brotherhood Worth Fighting For

Paul

At the station Monday evening, I tried my hardest not to cry after watching Phil board the train with his luggage. We waved at each other, Mom and Dad standing near me in typical summer clothes because of the warm weather. And that was it. Phil was gone in no time. No special goodbye because of having to be discreet. God, I missed him already. I missed his touch, his smell, his taste. I missed gazing into his blue eyes and passing my hand through his short, dark hair. His voice lingered in my mind after he'd secretly whispered that he loved me. I knew he wasn't in love with me like I was with him, and I'd never fault him for it. We were brothers, after all. We weren't supposed to love each other like lovers. Now, we were separated. A wave of intense emotions threatened to make me burst.

"Don't cry," Dad said in a low, demandingly-hostile tone. It didn't matter if he was aging at forty-five. He was still strong and intimidating, like an older version of me and Phil except a completely different person, and a mean one at that.

He led the way back to the car as if apathetic. The ride home was uncomfortably silent. Our little town was surrounded by pure countryside with nothing but woods, fields, and gravel roads. There was nothing interesting around here except for watching the northern lights on occasion.

As I was about to step out, Dad was fast enough to grab my forearm with a tight grip to stop me, his blue eyes burning into mine while instilling fear in me. "Stay put." He looked at Mom. "Give us a moment."

She gave him an obedient nod, always knowing better than to question anything he said. She stepped out and headed back into the house.

"Get up front, Paul."

I also knew better than to question Dad, and with intimidation, I obeyed. After putting my seatbelt on, he took off again. The whole ride was still silent, but it was often like that unless Phil was around. Even then, conversation hadn't always been a huge thing for Dad. He preferred silence more than anything, and my chatty Mom had to accept it if she wanted to stick with him through thick and thin.

Minutes later, I lowered my eyebrows at the scenery. Why were we going off the gravel road and onto the field? Still, I knew not to question Dad. That palm-to-cheek sting from years ago when I'd dared to question him still floated in my memory.

He parked near the entrance to the woods and shut off the engine. "Follow me." Always so demanding and serious. He stepped out, and I obeyed. As he led the way into the quiet and sunless woods, confusion struck my mind because it made no sense for us to be here, especially when I started college later in the week.

It took a few minutes before we approached a small, one-window cabin that looked old and dumpy, and I was even more confused. What exactly was going on? Why were we here?

We stopped at the worn, wooden door. The dark window looked too dusty and dirty to make out what was inside. After looking around his shoulders, Dad unlocked the rusted padlock in a rush and opened the creaky door that looked almost unhinged from the doorframe. He pushed me inside, and I almost fell on the wooden floor but kept my balance. He entered and shut the door.

My heart raced at the dusk room. There was a full-size bed with an ugly quilt and two flat pillows. There was also a wall-less "bathroom" of a toilet, sink, and tub. Everything was rustic. That was it. There was nothing else.

"Take off your clothes," Dad said as if it weren't a big deal.

I was reluctant, and my body trembled, but I was terrified of defying him. At the same time, I was terrified of what he was about to do to me. He didn't just hate gay men; he believed in legalizing the execution of them. No, no, I was his son. He wouldn't hurt me like that. Still, I slipped off my sandals, and I peeled off my shirt and shorts. It took me a moment to go through with removing my boxers. I was thankful that I hadn't worn my jockstrap because I wouldn't have been able to explain that.

I couldn't even look at Dad as I stood here naked, the humiliation hitting me hard.

He grabbed my clothes, balled them up together, and held onto them while giving me a contemptuous stare. It was strange how he had the same blue eyes as Phil and I had, yet they looked different because of how he was as a person. "It took me a long time to decide what to do about your college future. Then, I realize you don't deserve my hard-earned money to pay for your tuition, so you won't be going to college. I had everything cancelled."

I tried to hide a deep frown, my heart sinking into depression. As much as I would've preferred a better school, college was still college. It'd been my chance to get a better job and get the hell out of this dull and depressing town.

"When I saw you playing with your butt in the bathroom at only thirteen, I prayed you wouldn't continue being a filthy faggot." Dad's words were laced with disgust and repulsion. "But it wasn't in God's plan to have you change anytime soon. You didn't just continue with your sin, but you seduced Phil like the dirty Jezebel boy you are."

Dad knew Phil and I fucked? But…how? And I didn't seduce him!

"How do I know this? Because I secretly recorded everything the two of you did in your room."

I swallowed, not wanting to believe my life was over. Was this the punishment Dad had had for me all along?

"But I know Phil's not a faggot. He was trapped by your seduction, and now that he's away, he's safe."

"Dad…I didn't seduce him."

"Yes, you did. You brought the devil into our blessed home. You allowed him to seduce you at a young age, and he's still in you. I can't have you return home until you're fully cleansed and back on God's path."

"D-Dad…w-what are you…gonna do?"

He stepped closer to me, still looking repulsed as ever, and he inhaled and exhaled. "Even though I'm not a faggot and you're my flesh and blood, I was blessed with Holy Seed. I had a long talk with God about this. He told me that the only cure is for you to accept the Holy Seed into your body, be it from behind or through consumption."

Oh, fuck. What the hell was wrong with Dad? Had he gone nuts? But why was my cock suddenly twitching at the thought of being used by my own father?

"I couldn't fight against God's demands because what He says must always go. I even talked to your grandpa and your Uncle Simeon about this, and they agreed that we must carry out God's wishes to cure you."

Oh, wow. Grandpa and Uncle Simeon knew? My cock was rising now because of how sexually appealing both of them were.

"They're not faggots, but they were also blessed with Holy Seed, and they offered to help with the cure."

Fuck, my cock was getting so hard talking about this while being naked in front of Dad. I'd once tested the waters with Phil to get a reaction, and the idea of having sex with any of them grossed him out. Maybe I really was disturbed.

Dad looked down and then back up. "I see that you're fully hard. This turns you on. Just as I suspected. This is what the devil does to people. He plants seeds of lust inside innocent minds so that his victims are compelled to experience immoral attractions."

I was shamefully turned on. I'd fantasized more than once about having sex with them, especially Dad since I'd once seen him in his underwear by accident and had learned just how hot of a body he had for his age. But I'd tried so hard to suppress the fantasies and my hunger for him, and I'd focused solely on Phil ever since. I'd never regretted anything sexual with Phil. It was different with him. But with my own father? And Grandpa and Uncle Simeon? It wasn't right at all. It just wasn't.

I sighed. "Dad, please let me go home."

"No, Paul. I'm doing this for your own good. As your punishment, you're going to be living here from now on until I strongly feel that you've been cured, and you'll be naked the entire time."

I started panting, and I missed Phil even more than ever. "Dad, no, don't! Stop…" I froze, realizing my mistake.

Uh-oh, his eyes glared. I'd just pissed him off. "Are you defying my orders?" he asked, raising his voice.

I quickly shook my head. "N-no, Dad. I'll submit to your wishes."

"They're not my wishes. They're God's wishes."

"Yes, Dad." I wasn't sure why, but I somehow glanced at the front of his shorts just briefly, and I noticed a wet spot and a grown bulge that confirmed he was at least as big as Phil was. I tried hard not to be obvious, but with him staring at me nonstop, I was probably caught.

"I see you looking, Paul. Are you lusting after your father like a filthy faggot?"

I shook my head, willing to lie. "No, Dad."

"You'd better not, you dirty Jezebel boy. No one but me, your grandpa, and Uncle Simeon know that you're a faggot. And my job is to prove to God that I didn't breed a faggot. You will be cured soon." Dad finally walked away, opened the door, and got out. He shut the door hard and padlocked it.

I burst into heavy sobs, wishing Phil could save me. I needed his protection. How would I explain all of this to him? If only I could escape. If only I weren't stuck inside this old cabin.

I now knew I was fucked in more ways than one.

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