Blowing Out His Birthday Candle

Author's Note: All characters in this story are eighteen years of age or older. This piece centers on the humiliation of an inebriated guy, at the hands of his older brothers, during his eighteenth birthday party. It doesn't involve any incest; however, typical fraternal boundaries are crossed.

Brothers can be some of your closest allies; they can also be your greatest adversaries. At least, that was my experience growing up. My mother had begged the Virgin Mary for a little girl; alas, she ended up with four boys.

We were a rough-and-tumble bunch who would routinely destroy furniture, break bones, and cause general havoc throughout our earlier years. It wasn't until we'd all entered our teens that we'd found a rhythm that was more supportive, even though old rivalries would still rear their ugly heads on occasion.

There is no clearer example of the complex nature of our relationship than Chip's birthday. My youngest brother had the misfortune of being born on April Fool's Day. We'd fallen into the tradition of pranking him every year.

It had started when our eldest brother, Sam, had fed him a can of dog food as a "birthday surprise" on his seventh. As one might expect, Chip had been devastated, and us older brothers had thought it was hilarious. My mom had punished us, which had further cemented Chip's status as the coddled baby of the family. I think we'd resented the special attention he'd always received, which was why we were so happy to have April Fool's Birthday as an excuse to rain on his proverbial never-ending parade.

We had been debating what prank to pull for Chip's eighteenth birthday. Sam, who was twenty-two at the time, was arguing for something that would embarrass him. He suggested shaving his head while he was sleeping. My younger brother, Kyle, who was nineteen, didn't have any specific idea. I think he was just happy that being a year older than Chip had afforded him the privilege of not being fucked with on his birthday; he only participated to keep the attention off of himself.

I had thought about how I didn't want to play a normal trick on Chip that debased him. He was already more type-A than any of us. He spent most of his time focused on being the best he could at football, school, and socializing. He had become very strait-laced as a way to cope with all of the self-imposed pressure. I just wanted to see him relax. That's why, as the date loomed nearer and no other idea had gained traction, I suggested that our prank should focus on getting Chip to lower his inhibitions for once in his life. To my surprise, my brothers agreed with my suggestion, and our brainstorming session came alive.

It was about 5 p.m. on Friday, April 1^st. Chip had officially been eighteen years old for seven whole hours. My parents were out of town, but would be returning the next day. We were going to have a family celebration at Chip's favorite restaurant. We had decided to capitalize on having the house to ourselves for the evening with a small get-together.

Chip was taking a shower; I was in the kitchen, hunting through the cupboards for snacks. I heard Sam and Kyle walking through the front door. Sam had taken a job a few hours away, so he only came home on random weekends and for special occasions.

"Hey, bro!" Sam shouted as he walked into the kitchen with Kyle lagging behind him.

"Good to see you," I replied as I planted my palm across his broad shoulder. "How was the train ride?"

"Not bad, not bad," he said. "It'll have been worth it to get wild tonight. Kendra's thinking about stopping by and I'm getting the vibe she's missed my dick."

Sam gestured to his crotch as if he was landing a Boeing 747. Kyle, who appreciated his antics, let out a loud chuckle before nodding in approval.

"Nice," I said, walking the line between being supportive and not wanting to engage.

"Did you bring the goodies?" I asked.

"Right here," Sam said, patting the right chest pocket of his blue plaid shirt.

"Where is baby bro, anyways?" he asked.

"He said he was going to get ready for the evening, so he's upstairs," I said.

"Well, let's go give him his present," Sam replied with a smirk. "It'll need time to kick in if we want him to loosen up before people start to arrive later."

Sam walked towards the living room before pausing right at the doorway. He quickly grabbed a bottle of rum I had placed on the counter; it probably only had ten shots left in it. He grinned at us; I was already starting to guess that he was going to make his own adjustments to the prank we'd planned together. He was the oldest; he took it as his prerogative.

We made our way to Chip's room on the second floor. I could hear that the shower wasn't running, but I didn't know if Chip was in his bedroom or the shared bathroom in the hallway. As we approached his room, I could hear some vague muttering through the door.

Sam suppressed a laugh and put his finger to his lips, indicating the he wanted us to be quiet. He placed his ear against the door to better listen to what was being said. I wondered if Chip's girlfriend had come over. I thought he'd said she was at a gymnastics competition, so she wouldn't be able to celebrate with him on his birthday.

Sam pressed his large hand over his entire mouth, but his eyes sparkled with uproarious delight. He slowly pushed open the door a few inches to see what was happening. After watching for about twenty seconds, he motioned for me and Kyle to step forward. He pressed on the door so that it gently opened all the way without making even the smallest noise.

My baby brother was standing completely in the buff in front of the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. I wasn't sure what I was looking at, but he seemed to be putting on a show for himself. At six-foot-four, he was the tallest of us, which irked Sam to no end. He weighed two-hundred-and-twenty pounds, and it was mostly muscle. I knew that he tried to lift weights for at least an hour every day.

Chip was holding his right bicep in the air and flexing it. I doubted it was intentional, but his firm ass was tightening as well, making it look even more pronounced. He appeared to be looking into his own green eyes in the reflection, as he shook his head to make his dewy, blond locks fall into a different position.

"Do you like that, baby?" he asked. "You wanna suck it?"

He nodded down at his crotch; I noticed he was holding his phone in his left hand. It started to click that we could very well be peeping on some type of sexting situation with his girlfriend, Jessica. I couldn't help but look where his camera was pointing. I could see that, while he wasn't hard, he definitely wasn't soft either. My eyes widened as I realized that he had to be at least seven inches long, although only partly erect, and as girthy as a can of Red Bull.

I knew I needed to stop the oddly incestuous voyeurism that was playing out. I grabbed the door knob so it would look as if we had just entered, rather than revealing we'd been gawking. I pushed it forcefully and yelled, "Surprise! Happy Birthday!" as it banged against the wall.

Chip spun around on his heels before freezing for a split second. I could see shock, embarrassment, and anger wash over his face in respective waves. Sam and Kyle had taken a different approach; they were doubled over with laughter. Chip's face began to turn a rosy hue which was mirrored on his large pecs.

"Haven't you assholes ever heard of knocking?" he shouted as he frantically covered his manhood with his hands, even though one was still holding his phone.

Sam and Kyle were getting the last of the chuckles out of their systems. Sam was already standing tall; Kyle still had his hands on his knees as he leaned forward.

"Sorry," I said. "We didn't know what was going on. Are you on the phone with Jessica or something?"

"No. I, um..." Chip said. "I was just taking a picture to send to her."

Chip's anger quickly swung to embarrassment again. His shoulders slumped a bit, as if he realized how sad his last sentence must sound to his older brothers. I'm certain it had to do with the fact that Chip as a virgin, and he knew that none of us still were. He had been all about waiting until marriage until he'd stopped going to church regularly a few months earlier. I wasn't really sure what had caused the shift since he hadn't spoken about it explicitly.

"Dude, you need to tidy up if you're taking pics!" Kyle chortled, while motioning to Chip's hands.

Chip was barely covering his manhood; it looked like it was just too big. His dense, curly, blond patch of pubic hair was visible. Chip bounded over to his bed and grabbed the towel that was draped across it; he swiftly wrapped it around his waist.

"Fuck you," he mumbled.

I felt pretty uncomfortable. My energy was more aligned with my baby brother's than with Sam and Kyle's jocularity. Seeing Chip so upset made me think of our original goal of getting him to loosen up. I realized I was feeling pretty uptight, too. That was heading in the wrong direction.

"Okay, let's just forget that happened," I said. "We actually came up to give you a present. And, no, it isn't a can of dog food."

I was attempting to lighten the mood, but it didn't work. Kyle chuckled a little too much at the reference, which made Chip look even more flustered. It wasn't what I had wanted.

"We thought this year, in honor of the big one-eight, we'd forgo the traditional prank," I said. "Instead, we come bearing gifts."

I motioned to Sam, who stepped forward. He pulled a small tin from his pocket and popped open the lid. There were eight little green gummies inside. They looked a bit like miniature pieces of Turkish Delight.

The muscles in Chip's face tensed. We all knew the look; it was a combination of anxiety and judgment. His hesitancy was palpable.

"Come on, bro," Sam encouraged. "You're going to college in a few months. Don't you think it's better to try some of this stuff now before you move away? You don't want people to think you're some sheltered weirdo, right?"

"These aren't even that intense," Kyle chimed in. "My friend's grandma takes these same ones for her arthritis."

Chip expression shifted the slightest bit, but not enough to suggest a change in how he was feeling. He pulled his arms over his exposed pecs as if he was hugging himself.

"Baby bro," I said, "you know I don't do this stuff very often. I get that it makes you nervous, but it will be fine. I really think it'll help you loosen up. You're so wound up all the time. If this could help you actually enjoy your eighteenth birthday more, isn't it worth trying?"

I must have tapped into the right combination of logic and sentiment. I did genuinely mean it though. Also, it was a prank we'd all enjoy. Us brothers would get a good chuckle watching Chip get high for the first time, and he'd have a blast tripping as he partied the night away.

"Okay," he said with a reluctant smile.

Sam stepped forward between the two of us. I could tell he was transferring the edible from the tin into Chip's palm. I heard him say something in almost a whisper; Chip nodded in response. Chip tossed his head back and pressed his palm against his mouth. Judging from his expression, he didn't like the taste.

"Not so bad, huh?" Kyle said.

"You next, Dylan," Chip said to me.

Sam shifted and pushed the open tin in front of me. There were six gummies left. I realized that the asshole had given Chip two doses. I had argued that we should only have Chip start with half a gummy, but I'd been overridden. Apparently, Kyle and Sam had altered the plan without me.

Sam smirked as he saw that I realized what had happened. I picked up a single gummy from the tin. Chip's eyes widened with confusion.

"I thought you said two gummies is one dose?" he asked Sam.

"It is..." Sam began.

Before Sam could finish his thought with the words "for me" and freak Chip out even more, since he knew Sam had a high tolerance, I interjected. I didn't want him to start his first trip in a bad mental place.

"It is," I said, "but I'm taking half a dose. One of us needs to have his shit together if mom calls or something else comes up tonight."

That seemed to be enough of an explanation to reassure him. I tossed the gummy into my mouth. Sam and Kyle followed suit, but they did actually consume two gummies apiece. As I said, it wasn't more than what they were used to.

"A shot apiece to wash it down!" Sam commanded.

Before I could say anything, I felt his hand yanking my hair back. I opened my mouth with a yelp of pain; it felt like he was ripping out a swath of my shaggy blond locks - and, yes, we were one of those families where all the kids looked the same: blond hair, green eyes, and all over six feet. I struggled to not choke as the cheap, room-temperature booze flooded down my throat.

After frantically swallowing it down, I had a brief coughing fit since part of the rum had trickled down the wrong pipe. I watched through tears as Sam gave Chip what appeared to be a double. While I wasn't happy with him upping the ante yet again, at least he wasn't rough with Chip like he'd been with me.

I couldn't help but notice that Sam and Kyle didn't take any shots themselves. I knew that they didn't want to get so wasted that they couldn't have fun fucking with Chip later that night.

DING DONG! DING DONG!

Fuck, I thought to myself as I realized it was the booze I had ordered being delivered. I knew that I had to go accept the order since they would need to see my driver's license, but my eyes were still red from choking.

"I've got to go get the booze," I said. "You should get ready, Chip, and you two should check in with Mom now so she's less likely to call tonight. You know how needy she is when we're all together without her."

Before I could wait for their response, I raced out of the room. I didn't want the delivery guy to take the alcohol back to the market. I rubbed the back of my still-aching head as I rushed down the stairs.

After I accepted the delivery, I worked on organizing things. I put the various bottles where they needed to be: beer in the fridge, vodka in the freezer, and red wine (for the girls) on the counter. I did some tidying up, including putting away the dishes and wiping down various surfaces. I took the occasional break to reply to text messages.

I had started to set out some snacks next to plastic bowls; I knew people would undoubtedly get hungry once they were buzzed. Right at that moment, my own buzz started to wash over me. It had only been thirty minutes, though; I thought it was odd, since it usually took me an hour to feel anything.

I wondered how Chip was doing. I suddenly became worried that he must be really feeling it if he had taken twice as much as me and downed double the rum. I pushed aside the bag of pretzels I had in my hands and started walking towards Chips' room. I felt a little worried, but it was hard to grasp onto the emotion, as the budding high overrode it.

"I can't believe he's doing it!" I heard Kyle say as I summited the stairs.

"It feels really weird, guys," Chip said with an affected tone. "It kind of burns."

"It's almost all gone," Sam chuckled. "Just keep soaking it up."

I couldn't believe that those assholes were giving him more shots before the party. I was fine with getting Chip buzzed, but I hadn't wanted to get him wasted. I turned the corner, prepared to grab the bottle from his hand, when I stopped in my tracks.

My jaw dropped as I took in the scene. Chip was on all fours with his head pushed flat against the carpet and his ass sticking up in the air, like a dog about to be mounted. He was naked again, and Sam was positioned next to him. He was holding the bottle of rum so that the mouth was nestled between Chip's ass cheeks.

It took me a moment to realize what was going on. At first, I thought they were doing shots off of Chip backside, but I knew that would humiliate them more than him. I charged forward into the room. Sam grinned at me with a devious sparkle in his eye.

"Dylan!" Chip shouted. "I'm butt-chugging! It really hurt when Sam stuck it inside, and the rum burned. But it's not as bad now."

Chip's pupils were large black saucers, and he had a goofy smile on his face. I noticed that Kyle was filming the scene with his phone. I could see him zooming in and out to show where the mouth of the bottle was pressed into Chip's small, pink hole. He was making sure to position things so that Chip's face was visible but Sam's wasn't.

"Get this," Sam said to Kyle, before directing his attention to Chip. "Just a few more drops; I'm going to help get them out."

Sam slowly started to spin the bottle in a rotating motion. I heard Chip let out something that sounded like a cross between a gasp and a moan. Sam stifled his laughter. I looked at Kyle's phone; he was zooming in on Chip's cock. It was growing in real time as it reacted to the novel stimulation of the bottle teasing his rosebud. It was bigger than it had been earlier - maybe eight inches, and still not at full-mast.

"Dude, fucking stop that," I said as I jumped over to where Sam was squatting.

"Don't worry, buzzkill, it's all gone," he said. "Chip, you did a great job chugging that down. I'm going to remove the bottle now. I might hurt a little, so just exhale."

"Okay," Chip chirped.

Sam slowly pulled the bottle out of my baby brother's asshole. I couldn't understand why it was taking so long, until I realized that Sam had forced a good three inches on the neck of the bottle inside of him. Chip was trying to stifle his small gasps during the removal process.

"See?" Sam said. "He's not in pain."

There was a slight popping noise as the mouth of the bottle pulled away from Chip's hole. A few gushes of rum pushed out of his abused pucker before it sealed shut again. Sam stood up and placed the empty bottle on the bed.

"You probably want to stay like that for a couple minutes," Sam instructed. "You're going to feel like you really want to take a shit, but you have to ignore that feeling. Your body needs a little time to absorb the alcohol."

"How much was in the bottle?" I asked, feeling incredulous.

"Like two or three shots," Sam replied. "We'd drunk the rest of it before Chip decided to try out butt-chugging. I told him about how they do it at the frat parties at college."

I rolled my eyes. I knelt down next to Chip and placed my right palm between his shoulder blades. He looked pretty messed up. He'd had at least five shots of rum, but I was guessing it was closer to ten.

"How are you feeling, buddy?" I asked.

"Really good," Chip slightly slurred.

He was, surprisingly, more energetic than I would have expected from someone so intoxicated. He was rolling his neck in circles and tapping his right wrist against the floor. It was as if he were somehow wired in spite of it all.

"I just want to stand up," he said. "I want to dance."

I quizzically looked at Sam and Dylan. The latter shrugged to indicate his ignorance, while Sam just smirked.

"Dylan, Dylan, Dylan..." Chip repeated until I looked at him again. "I didn't tell you about Jessica, Dylan. She sent me a message this morning that she's going to give me a blowjob when she gets back in town as a birthday present. I was just telling Sam and Kyle."

"That's nice, bud," I said as I patted his back. "I think maybe we should get you into the shower again. A little cold water to jolt you back to your senses before the party."

"But I just took a shower," he sighed. "I just want to have fun."

"I think a shower would be good," Sam said. "We can help you get ready for your big night tomorrow, like we were talking about. You want to look good for Jessica, right?"

Chip smiled; he must have been thinking about Jessica. He slowly started to push himself up from the ground. He paused for a moment in a squatting position before raising himself the rest of the way.