Beautiful Gifts, Small Packages Ch. 08

It didn't upset me at the time. Actually, it turned me on even more and I foolishly told him everything I'd ever wanted to have done to me. He made sure do to everything I asked for, in between making me do things I wasn't sure about. Everything he told me to do turned me on, no matter how humiliating or disgusting. I mean, he started slow and drew me in until I couldn't even find where I let it get so bad. First it was just small things. Making his bed. Laying out and ironing his clothes the night before. Putting toothpaste on his toothbrush and brushing his teeth for him, doing his house chores for him. Little inconvenient things that proved to him that I would do what he said. When I did well, he was so kind, well at least I thought he was. Really he was warming me up to do more. Like... w-washing his cock and balls for him. Allowing him to pick out my underwear for the day. Eating his cum in my protein shakes, wearing his name in marker on my dick while I was in class. Every time I did something more and more demeaning and afterwards I'd rush away to get off or edge myself. Reliving the experience in my head as I did so and somehow, he knew.

I'm not sure when but I eventually developed strong feelings of attachment towards him. He knew before I did and he teased me for it, occasionally embarrassing me by getting real close and working me up so that I'd be near cumming before backing off. Leaving me to walk around campus with the most obnoxious boner ever. One day, I couldn't take the teasing anymore and I begged him to be my boyfriend. That's when he told me he knew what I was and what I needed, and that as my big brother, he was responsible for me in a way that the others weren't and he cared about helping me flourish. He told me he could tell that I was different from the other pledges. That I got more out of the hazing than anyone else did. That I needed a firm hand to guide me and I agreed with him.

He agreed to be my boyfriend as long as I remembered that he was also something more. He was my Master and I had to obey him. I agreed eagerly, fully addicted to how spacey and dumb he made me feel, in addition to my huge crush. We started dating secretly and him being my big brother gave us the perfect excuse for loads of uninterrupted time together. During that time he pushed me more and more, completely bullying me into humiliating myself for his amusement but I never complained. I kept telling myself that if I was good enough, he'd fall for me, even though I knew he still hooked up with other girls. Sometimes, if I was good enough, he'd hug me close and tell me how special I was and to always remember I was his favorite. I was completely obsessed with being the only one he looked at and he made sure to taunt me over it.

Sometimes he'd play with my cock while telling me about some bitch he fucked and if I didn't cum by the end of his story, he'd smack my cock until it bruised. Plenty of other time's, he'd makeout with a random girl at a party, telling me to watch and touch myself to the image of them kissing when I was alone. Sometimes he even made me do it in public. Thankfully I was never caught. If I protested, he would tell me not to worry because only I knew what he really liked. Only I could please him. He was just testing my feelings for him. I always obeyed, except that I would picture it was me that had done something to earn a sweet kiss, for as time went on, he kissed me less and less often. One day he stopped altogether and I didn't know why or what I did wrong. I remember brushing my teeth five times a day, hoping he wouldn't turn his face away for weeks, before I realized he just didn't want to anymore."

Damn. That admission hurt. I had to stop talking for several minutes to collect myself. I had done so much for a guy that wouldn't even kiss me back. It was truly pathetic behavior. This is why I didn't think about it or talk about, because despite all this time, the memories still cut into me.

"It's okay, you don't have to say more baby," Riley whispered into my ear before kissing my neck again.

"I want to finish. You were right. You should know," I told him with false bravery. Riley kissed me once more and held me a little tighter but said nothing else, so I continued to speak. "I'm embarrassed to admit but the fact that he didn't kiss me anymore made me work even harder to please him. More than once he'd make me do things for him in public, though thankfully not on campus, with dried cum on my face. If I was asked about it, I was required to be honest and was punished if I admitted to lying. He also always made me clean his cock off right after he fucked me. If I didn't enjoy it, it was my fault for not being prepared to be taken at a moments notice.

But the thing about that was that he controlled when I used the bathroom and he would watch me do it. So.. h-he had a habit of fucking me... right after or right before I was meant to go. It was always so dirty." I began to shake. I hated talking about this and I hated that I liked the idea of Riley doing the very same things to me, even though the memories made me feel physically ill. "I didn't realize how easy he was going on me until one day, I really pissed him off. He pulled a prank on me by stealing my towel and pissing on my clothes while I was in the shower area and it was my choice as to whether I'd walk back to my room naked or wearing the soiled clothes. I didn't make the right choice. He was furious with me. He slapped me a few times, busted my lip open too, then he fucked me hard without any type of preparation. Afterwards he told me to come up with a punishment for not... wearing his scent around the house and if I didn't come up with a good one, then he'd break up with me. I couldn't let him leave me because by that point I felt like I couldn't live without submission." I was quiet for a moment, waiting for Riley to stop me. Surely, he couldn't want to know more.

"What did you come up with?" Riley weakly asked, sounding like he didn't want to know the answer.

I sighed in dismay and squeezed my eyes shut, hating everything about myself. "I used my toothbrush to clean his filthy toilet and then... I let him fuck me with it until he made me cum and then I had to," I nearly choked in disgust. "I had to lick it clean and... thank him. I.. I sterilized it after but I was required to continue brushing my teeth with it for a full month before I could throw it away. The worst part was how much I enjoyed it in the moment. It wasn't until it was over that I realized how bad the whole thing made me feel about myself and it really fucked with my self esteem. Not to mention, I got an infection that took a week to heal, leaving me ignored the entire time.

I told him I didn't want to do something like that again but once I was drunk again, I would do worse. Every boundary I thought I had was broken. I've been spit on, pissed on and shit on. I've been filmed while being made to eat food until past the point of fullness. To the point that I couldn't stand the taste of whatever I was made to eat while making sounds like an animal. The whole time I was told how fat I was and that the team would drop me for being such a pig. I've been tied up and whipped until I've bled. I've worn a cock cage as punishment for my cum tasting bad, which I hated and was the most uncomfortable thing I've ever worn. I've been forced to shave my legs, wear women's clothing and touch my cock like I'm rubbing some girls clit for the amusement of others. I've been tied up against a flagpole nearly naked, covered in sharpie with insults and left for other pledges to find as part of a scavenger hunt. I've been made to give myself an enema in front of a crowd of strangers and piss myself in public. There's.. so much more but I don't want... I just... even after I became a full member the degradation during my submission never stopped, from my big brother that is, the others stopped after the first six weeks and never tried anything with me again."

By now I expected Riley to push me away or to yell or show some sign of disgust so I wasn't surprised when he rolled to his back, pulling away from me. I stayed quiet and still, fearing that this was it. I was about to lose someone I deeply cared for because I was disgusting. I shouldn't have agreed to sharing and remained the perfect boyfriend that I always presented as.

"Would you like me to leave?" I asked quietly, doing everything in my power to control the hurt in my voice.

"No. My shoulder was just bothering me. I'm sorry. I sorta thought you'd follow me. Come here baby. It's okay," he replied, opening his arms when I looked at him, so that I could lay my head on his chest.

I quickly obeyed, needing the comfort that my tiny boyfriend was offering, even though it made me feel kind of like a little kid to need it.

"So there's more?" He asked softly, rubbing my back in soothing circles with his small hand.

"Yes," I admitted, my voice cracking with emotion.

"You can tell me," he reminded me with a kiss to the top of my head.

"I- I thought I was in love and I was addicted to how provocative my situation with him was," I tried to explain. "I kept making up excuses as to why he didn't act like he cared about me. I couldn't imagine doing the kind of fucked up things he wanted with anyone else. All I knew was him and that even though I didn't have a shred of self respect left, that was okay. In my head he cared about me and we'd be together forever because I was his favorite. No one else would ever know about the things we did, he promised. Then one day, everything changed.

Through that entire time, our relationship was kept secret from the house. I... I did tell my mom some things, nothing too serious though. She just knew a boy I liked was too embarrassed to be seen with me in public and she hated him for it. Heather is the only one that knows everything, but to this day no one in the house knows how far this person pushed me, and I pray every day that they never will. Although, I very nearly outed both of us when I found out he'd gone and gotten himself a real girlfriend. He met her parents and everything, even telling me they'd probably get married one day. It crushed me to hear that and I asked but what about me? I loved him too. Didn't he want to marry me? I wasn't ready for marriage yet but I could make myself be ready if he asked but he just laughed when I brought it up, like the idea was ridiculous. Having a husband didn't fit into his vision of his life.

Apparently he wanted a respectable relationship with her and with me... he could do the things he liked most. Things a woman would never allow. I'm an idiot but I thought that made me special still, even though the whole situation made me insanely jealous. I thought that being kept a secret made me more important because I was the only one he'd do fucked up things to. I kept telling myself how he kept a place in his life for me, and that I should be grateful, even if people saw him with her. I also drank a lot and cried about it when I was alone. It wasn't until he pushed me past the point of no return, plus a few more drunken months of heartbreak, that I finally woke the fuck up to how I was being used.

I had been begging for time alone with him for the past two weeks. It had been ages since he put me in my place and I was going through a withdrawal of sorts that had me feeling horny, needy, desperate and depressed. He had been paying too much attention to his girlfriend and I was feeling extremely jealous. I told him I'd do anything he wanted for a scene, hoping that would please him because the last few times I'd been more resistant than usual, as a way to stand up for myself. He told me I'd better mean it and make it worth his while. That he was bored with my past performance and I really needed to prove myself. I agreed and promised I wouldn't use a safe word at all, just like he wanted. That was a mistake and it ended up being the worst night in my entire life.

He put me on a leash and collar, wearing nothing but neon pink fishnet stockings and handcuffs on my wrists. And then..." I squeezed my eyes shut, despising myself for what happened next. "He invited his girlfriend into the room and had me... prepare both of them for sex. He had me lick her to orgasm first, which I didn't like and wasn't good at. It took me forever to make her feel good and I wanted to vomit the entire time. Something they both had a good laugh over. Then I redeemed myself by putting on a good show while I sucked his cock. H-he even told me I did a good job. When it was hard and ready, he had me lay down so that he could put his cock on my face, with her pussy hovering over my lips, so that I could taste them both as he fucked her. He even had me help him sink his cock into her.

Eventually he had me completely tied up while they did things to each other. He also took photos of me arranged in painful contortions, that they graded, telling me how I could do better. Then he untied me and spanked me in front of her, causing me to cry. She took photos of that too. It was the most humiliating experience I've ever had in my entire life. I freaked out when he let me go from the spanking and bit his girlfriend's hand when she got close to me again. He only laughed at me for being "feisty" and restrained me again, letting her torture my balls with her long, fake fingernails and a pair of tweezers as punishment.

At one point I remember breaking down and begging for the pain to stop and that I was sorry, so he gave me something to relax. I was pretty out of it after that, so I couldn't exactly fight back and, being in the moment, I wanted to obey. Even though I find the taste of pussy revolting and I would never willingly be with a woman.. I enjoyed cleaning his cum out of her. Like with everything else, the feelings of shame and self-hatred didn't hit me until after. In this case, I had plenty of time to think about what a loser I was, for he locked me in my room and left me tied to my bed. Surprisingly, he left the photos with me. He told me he'd make sure his girlfriend didn't know anything about us and that she wouldn't tell anyone what we did. She had thought he was fulfilling a fantasy for her, where they punished her sissy cuckold together, and that I'd volunteered to be there. She never knew he and I were together, even to this day or that he tricked me into it. He also said he knew I was his good little bitch because I'd never tell anyone about this. How humiliating would it be for me to ask someone else to free me? They'd see the photos and I didn't want that, did I? Then he promised to come back and untie me by noon, since I couldn't escape on my own and he didn't want to raise suspicion.

Thankfully, Heather had planned on seeing me early that day. She found me and the photos before he came back. It was extremely humiliating, like he suggested, and I couldn't look her in the eyes for almost a year afterwards. She never judged me for it though, she simply took care of me and helped me find the way forward. After she freed me, she had me get cleaned up and dressed. She fed me and then drove me to a quiet place where I could tell her everything. She wanted me to burn the photos but I wanted them for insurance. He was clearly visible in several, so I kept them and hid them in my family's safety deposit box. I just wanted to have control over him for once.

For a while, I still wanted to be with my big brother but I could never forgive him. I drank myself stupid but Heather helped me, like I told you, so that I could have more control over my actions. Once I was sober I officially ended things with him and started going to therapy at her insistence. Honestly I think I sometimes saw her as a replacement Domme for a little while. Just in the ways she helped me keep my life in order so that I could work on my self destructive tendencies. I was pretty co-dependent on my ex, so I had to work on that as well and Heather's support was immeasurable. Especially when my ex broke up with his girlfriend and started apologizing and begging to get back with me for a year after I ended it but I still refused. We could be brothers. Nothing more. I was done with him.

After our breakup, I worked my ass off to become better than him in every way I could. I workout harder, I take better care of myself, I'm the better athlete, I'm stronger than him, I'm faster than him, I'm the better student, I have more friends in the house and more contacts for after I graduate, I'm more friendly and outgoing. No matter what it is, I've done my best to be better. That's the type of energy I put into becoming president, so that I could make sure he'd never have power over me ever again. I honestly wish he had graduated already but at least I'm mostly capable of tolerating him now.

Eventually I got out of my dark headspace but I still craved submission. I tried to date a few different guys that I knew were into being super dominant with their partners. It never really seemed to work out though. The first three times, my ex slept with them before I could even work up the nerve to ask them out and that ruined it for me. I quickly got over that when I realized that everyone I liked would be seen as a toy that my ex could take away from me. I didn't want him to win, so the next couple times he slept with someone first... I made myself get over it. Now it barely gets to me. Unfortunately, the relationships with the men I forgave ended up being ones I'd regret. I would try to keep myself protected with safe words but it always turned out bad. One guy even refused to use my safe words if I ruined a scene so often that I'm hesitant to even bring up the idea of having them. They feel pointless to me now.

Once I get in the moment, nothing else seems to matter to me except for my perfect submission. Not until later anyways. My head is usually pretty fucked up for days after and yet I still seek more. Sometimes it feels like a drug in and of itself and yet, I can never truly enjoy my behavior. I'm always ashamed of the things I let happen to me. Especially when the driving force behind them happening is simply my need to serve and the desire to be good at it. After a while though, I think people get bored with the nice stuff and I rarely resist being pushed around until I'm ready to break up. Because of this, I am barely praised with words like good, or pretty or.. anything positive and I don't ask for it. I think most would consider me weak but really, I just don't let anyone in deep enough to destroy me anymore. I think I'd rather it wasn't nice anyways, that way I'm not too attached. When it gets bad, I stay until I can't take it anymore and then I leave. No second chances or working through it. No chance to be fucked around again.

After my last bad experience with a Dom, which lasted only six days, I realized I was still making myself miserable. I decided to give up on trying to find someone to submit to and just find myself a nice, normal boyfriend, like I had in high school. I wanted to be part of a loving, long term relationship and it didn't seem like I could have that and bdsm, so it seemed like time to give one desire up for the other. Two months later, I saw you in the coffee shop for the first time and you were so beautiful that you captured my attention immediately. I've been into you since the moment I saw you and I was committed to being the perfect boyfriend if I ever got a chance with you. Although, to be honest, I never expected to get this close to you. I never planned that I'd be held while sharing the darkest parts of me with you but here we are," I finally finished, feeling weak and defeated after spilling my guts like that. I stopped talking then, worried that Riley was about to be extremely pissed at me or completely disgusted.

"It was Fred, wasn't it. Your big brother, I mean," Riley nearly whispered, causing chills to run down my spine as he tightened his arm around me.