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Breaking Brandon


Rillion

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INTRO

Mitch grabbed the pretentious twink by the neck and shoved him up against the wall next to the door. “That’s it boy, I’ve had enough of your bullshit. Things are going to change around here starting right now. You got that Brandon?” he yelled at the drunken eighteen-year-old blond boy.

Brandon tried to say something but was not able to get out more than a groan of pain with Mitch choking him. Mitch spat into the boy’s face, “You are a worthless piece of shit, just like your father said you were when he dumped you on me. I’ve tried to give you a chance to show you could be a decent person and a responsible adult, but you’re just a spoiled brat that uses people. Well punk, your luck has finally run out.”

Jackson, an old friend from high school and college, as well as partner in a tech company they had sold a decade ago for a multi-million dollar payday, had called up Mitch a couple weeks ago asking for a huge favor. Jackson’s son, Brandon or Bran for short after the character from the Game of Thrones novel, would be going to college in the San Francisco bay area starting in the fall, but Jackson was worried about the boy. Bran’s mother, who was divorced from Jackson, had spoiled the boy rotten, using just a portion of the generous child support payments Jackson was ordered to pay as part of the divorce settlement.

Jackson had no problem with his son being gay since Mitch had been one of his best friends for most of his life. It was obvious from a young age that Bran was queer and Jackson had many conversations with Mitch over the years about the boy. What Jackson could not stand though, was that Brandon had grown up to be a stuck up, spoiled, pretentious asshole. Jackson blamed himself for some of it since he had not fought that hard to retain custody of his son when he divorced his wife. So he had asked Mitch for a favor. He asked Mitch to take the boy in for the summer before college and try to reform the boy before he would move into campus housing for his freshman year.

Mitch had met the boy several times previously, including a week before the phone call when he attended the boy’s graduation down in southern California. Mitch had agreed to take the boy in on the one condition that he had total authority to do whatever he felt was needed. To that end he asked Jackson if the boy’s mother was going to continue to spoil the boy after Brandon moved out of her house. Jackson laughed and explained that the only reason she had any money to spend on the boy was because of the generous child support that he was obligated to pay to his ex-wife as long as the boy was a minor. Now that the payments were stopping, his ex-wife had found a new mark to leech off of and was moving to the east coast to live with her new sugar daddy.

Brandon was a very pretty young twink, taking after his mother, who had been beautiful enough to be a model, but was not willing to put in the work required to be successful in that career. He was 5’6” and slim. He had blond hair and blue eyes. He had delicate features and a slightly effeminate look. His lips were full and plumb and Mitch had often thought they would look good wrapped around his cock. The boy’s ass was a perfect perky bubble butt that was just begging to be spanked, fucked, and bred. It would look great with a puffy red rosebud leaking multiple loads of toxic cum. Mitch was looking forward to getting the kid flying and turn him into a willing hungry cum dump.

Mitch, in contrast, was a man’s man, 6’2” and 225 pounds of muscle with just the right amount of fat to look natural and not like he did nothing but lift weights at the gym all day. He had a naturally fit body that responded well to his daily routine of push-ups, sit-ups, and pull-ups. At 48, his brown hair was just starting to go gray at the temples and his short neatly trimmed beard was streaked with gray. He was classically handsome and never had any trouble finding a willing bottom to get bred by his thick 9” monster cock, which he had used to poz many young twinks over the years during meth fueled marathons of fucking, sm, and fisting.

Mitch pulled the boy off the wall and shoved him towards the sofa. The drunk kid stumbled and fell backwards onto the sofa. He sobbed and struggled to make sense of the sudden change in the man that had for the last two weeks let himself be walked all over. Bran had acted towards Mitch the same way he acted towards his mother, just assuming that his clothes would get picked up and washed, and that any money in a wallet left on a counter top was money that Bran could take. The man never seemed to care that Bran never said please or thank you when Mitch did something for him. Brandon was not dumb or oblivious; he could tell that Mitch found him attractive, as many men and women did. This was something which Bran become accustomed to taking advantage of. He figured he could tease Mitch by prancing around the house nearly naked and that was payment enough for Mitch doing all the cooking and cleaning.

“You got five minutes to make a decision, you either get your things and get out, or you stay, but if you stay you are agreeing to do everything I say, and I mean everything. Your Dad said you were a worthless piece of trash, spoiled rotten by your mother and has given me permission to do whatever I want to get you to shape up. I gave you a chance to prove him wrong, but you took every opportunity to prove him right,” snarled Mitch.

Brandon was in a state of panic. He had never experienced Mitch, nor anyone else, be this forceful and dominate with him. His mother had left to go shack up with some rich guy in Connecticut and had already rented her house out, so Brandon could not go back home. Brandon knew Mitch was right about how his father felt about him, so he could not go to his father’s place. His boyfriend, Aiden, was on a month long post graduation trip to Europe with his family so even if Brandon could get himself back back down to San Diego, he couldn’t crash at Aiden’s house and besides his boyfriend was still under age for another month.

The young gay man didn’t have any close friends as he would eventually end up pissing off most people he met as he used them up. He did not have any money saved up as he spent every penny he could get his hands on buying fancy clothes, pot, and booze. He never held down a job to earn any money as he felt working was beneath him, something he had picked up from his mother. So his only options were to agree to Mitch’s demands, or be tossed out into the street. Deep down he knew his usual charms would not work this time, but out of habit he tried anyway, pleading, crying, begging, then throwing a temper tantrum when nothing else worked.

Mitch stood stone faced through the boy’s attempted manipulations. He glanced down at his watch. “You just wasted four of your five minutes. You have one minute left to decide,” he said; his voice flat and unemotional.

The stress of the situation was starting to sober Brandon up a bit, so he was able to think somewhat more rationally. While his attempts to persuade Mitch had just failed, he figured that in the morning Mitch would probably have calmed down and be more receptive to renegotiating whatever agreement they were in the process of making. He believed he would be able to smooth this all over when he sobered up and things would go back to normal. So he wiped the tears off his face and looked up at Mitch, “Okay, I’ll stay.”

“By staying, you agree to do whatever I say. You understand that right?” said Mitch. Brandon rolled his eyes and nodded. Mitch stepped closer to the sofa so he was standing directly over the slim twink. “Then say it. Tell me you agree to do whatever I say,” demanded Mitch.

“Fine, I’ll do what you say,” sighed Brandon.

Mitch’s hand was lightning fast as he slapped the boy across the face. “Not good enough. Repeat after me, ‘I will stay with you and I will do whatever you say, SIR’” ordered Mitch, saying the words slowly and emphasizing the sir.

Brandon grabbed his cheek and fought the urge to start crying again. “Okay fine. I will stay with you and I will do whatever you say, sir,” said Brandon, but even despite his stinging cheek, he reflexively rolled his pretty blue eyes.

“Good enough for now. I’ll deal with that attitude of yours tomorrow. Now stay on the couch. If you get up, you’ll get a beating,” said Mitch before turning and walking out of the room and into the bathroom. He returned a moment later with an oblong pink pill and a glass of water. Brandon had at least obeyed this order without any backtalk or attitude.

Mitch held the pill and the glass of water out to the boy. “Here, swallow this pill,” he ordered.

“What is it?” asked Brandon.

“It doesn’t matter what it is. From now on you will swallow any pill I want you to; you will drink anything I tell you to; and you will smoke anything I order you to. What part of ‘you will do everything I say’ are you having trouble with?” asked Mitch.

Brandon reach out slowly and took the pill and the glass of water. He put the pill in his mouth and drank a small amount of water. He trapped the pill under his tongue as he swallowed the water, then handed the glass back.

Mitch took the glass and set it down on the coffee table. He started to turn, as if he was going to walk away, then quickly sprang on the surprised boy. He landed on top of Brandon, sitting on the boy’s slim waist and pinning him on the sofa. Mitch yanked the boy’s blonde hair, pulling his head back. He grabbed the boy’s jaw with his other hand and forced his mouth open. “DON’T EVER THINK YOU CAN FOOL ME BOY,” he screamed into the boy’s face. He then spit into the boy’s mouth. “Swallow that fucking pill NOW.”

Brandon was too terrified to do anything but obey. He swallowed he pill. Once Mitch was satisfied that the pill was down and not coming back up, he got up and left the room. Brandon was too emotionally spent to do anything but curl up into a ball on the sofa and cry until the Ambien kicked in and sent him into a deep sleep.

*** 

Please feel free to leave feedback below or you can also PM me your comments and suggestions. Sex and drugs will be coming soon, I promise. Thank you for reading.

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AWAKENING (Part 2)

Brandon woke up with his head throbbing. This was one of the worst hangovers he had experienced in his young life, certainly way worse than he would have been expected from the amount he had drunk the night before. He remembered falling asleep on the couch after the confrontation with Mitch, but as he opened his eyes and looked around he realized he was somewhere completely different. He was lying naked on a small mattress in a small room and windowless room. There was a dim bulb on the ceiling above providing a small amount of light to the room. The mattress was covered in a black sheet that did little to hide the thick plastic mattress cover beneath it. The walls and low ceiling of the room were painted black and had a countless number of eye rings in them. In the dim light it was hard for Brandon to make out much in the corners of the room but it looked like there were speakers and several security cameras positioned there. The floor was concrete and sloped slightly towards the corner furthest away from the door. In that lowest corner was a drain. The small room was warm, so Brandon was at least comfortable despite being naked.

As Brandon was surveying the room and trying to remember everything that happened last night, the door opened and Mitch came striding in. It took Brandon a second to recognize the man, as he looked completely different decked out all in leather and walking with an authority and confidence that had only been hinted at the night before. Brandon’s eyes were immediately drawn to the massive bulge that was evident in the tight black leather pants that also showed off Mitch’s powerful legs.

Brandon used his hands to cover his genitals and immediately tried to start pleading with Mitch again, “Please Mitch, what’s going on? Where am I? I’m sorry about coming home drunk last night. I’ll be better. I promise.”

Mitch cut him off, “Too late for any of that Boy. As for what is going on, you agreed to do everything I say from now on. I’m holding you to that. You had the chance to leave last night, but you chose to stay and made a commitment to me. Up until now you have been a worthless piece of human garbage whose word was as worthless as you are. Since you can’t be trusted to keep your word on your own, I’m going to make sure you start keeping it. I’m also going to make something useful out of you. I’ve been studying you for the last couple of weeks, taking your measure. You will never be a true man, you are too much of a faggot to ever claim to be a man. The main reason you have been so lost in life, is that you haven’t accepted your true self and your true place. You exist to serve and be used by real men. The emptiness inside you feel is because you are fighting against the real you.” His voice was calm, steady, and commanding. Several times Brandon wanted to interject some denial, but he found himself cowed by the intimidating leather clad god standing above him.

Mitch continued, “I am going to awaken the submissive cum dump slut slave I know is inside you. Soon you will realize that what you thought was your high self-esteem and self-confidence was just a mask you wore to hide the fact that you are just a lost little boy that needs a real man to take charge of your life for you. A man you can worship, please, and obey. So today you start your journey and new life. That’s what is going on. So from now on you will address me by Sir, Master, or Daddy.”

Mitch reached down and cupped the boy’s chin in his hand and lifted his head up, locking eyes with the young twink. “Do you understand that Boy?” He asked.

Brandon was shaking, partly from shock, partly from fear, and partly from desire. He swallowed hard then let out a meek, “Yes sir.”

“Good Boy,” said Mitch as he let go of the boy’s chin and lightly ran his hand up the side of the boy’s sweaty face then through the boy’s damp blond hair. “Now, as far as where you are, you are in my dungeon and you are not free to leave. Even if you were to somehow over power me, there is a lock to the outside that requires a code. The only way you are ever going to see the outside world again is if you do exactly as I say and accept your new position in life,” he said softly as he continued to stroke the boy’s hair, like he was trying to calm a scared puppy.

Mitch’s demeanor changed suddenly as he used the hand on the boy’s head to grab a fistful of the boy’s hair. “Now, your first lesson. Whenever your Master or a real man enters the room, you will stand up and show your respect, letting him know by your body language that you are ready and willing to submit to a superior male. Now get to your feet,” he said then used the fist full of hair he had in his hand to start pulling the boy to his feet.

Brandon struggled up to his feet, trying not to get his hair yanked out in the process as Mitch continued to pull on it. Once the boy was on his feet, Mitch released his hold and stepped back slightly, looking over Brandon’s naked body. The boy again covered his genitals with his hands. The twink was slim but not bony. He had a slight tan with a very visually striking Speedo shaped tan line around his groin, which was still milky white. The boy had obviously spent some time at the beach or pool down in San Diego before coming north.

“Stand up straight; clasp your hands behind your back just above your ass; shoulders back; keep head slightly bowed. If you need somewhere to focus you can keep your eyes on my crotch,” ordered Mitch.

Brandon was nervous and unsure, but he knew that he was out of his depth. He was a prisoner, no, more than a prisoner, a slave. The thought both frightened and excited him. He did as he was ordered, standing up straight, lowering his head, and then very slowly and reluctantly he took his hands off his crotch and put them behind his back. He fought back more tears as his shame was revealed to Mitch.

Brandon had always been embarrassed about the size of his dick. Growing up he had always been trying to sneak peaks of other boys and men, checking out their pee-pees, dicks, cocks, or penises. His vocabulary changed over the years, but what did not change was that Brandon’s cock was usually smaller than anyone else except eventually the much younger boys. But Brandon was embarrassed for another reason as well. When he pulled his hands away from his crotch, his little dickie sprang up and slapped against his stomach, fully erect and leaking pre-cum. His cock was uncut and the small red head was pushed halfway out of the hood. His dick was probably about four inches long from the tip to base of his pubis.

Mitch looked the twink’s exposed body over. He saw the look of shame on the boy’s face as he exposed his small cock. There was a small well trimmed patch of pubic hair above the base of the boy’s small cock and a light dusting of blond hairs over his balls. As for body hair, there was not that much, just small tufts under his arms, a small patch in the middle of his chest, and light amount on his forearms and calves. The sparse body hair would make shaving the boy easier. Eventually he would sign Brandon up for laser hair removal so that the twink would be permanently free of body hair. It was just one of the permanent changes the man had planned for the boy’s body.

“You ashamed of your cock Boy?” asked Mitch, knowing the answer but wanting to get Brandon to admit it out loud.

“Yes,” sobbed Brandon.

Mitch’s hand flew up and slapped the boy across the face, “That’s Yes Sir, Boy.”

“Yes, Sir. Sorry...Sir,” corrected Brandon.

“Good Boy. You have nothing to be ashamed about. Your cock size is irrelevant,” said Mitch.

“But, uh, its too small to really fuck,” said Brandon before quickly adding, “Sir.”

“Why do you say that Boy?” asked Mitch, trying to draw out Brandon.

“Well, I can’t satisfy Aiden. When we, err, have sex, he always finishes himself off with a dildo, Sir,” admitted Brandon, his cheeks turning bright red.

Mitch laughed, which made Brandon feel even more pathetic. His shoulders slumped. Mitch lightly slapped his hands against the outside of the boy’s shoulders, “Shoulders back, keep your position.”

Brandon straightened back up. Mitch gently rubbed his hands up and down the outside of the boy’s arms, calming him. “See what I mean about being lost and not accepting your true nature Bran. You are not a top. You never will be. If you were a top, your boyfriend would not be finishing himself off. It has nothing to do with the size of your cock. I’ve seen great tops with cocks your size that have men and boys begging to submit to them. When I’m done with your training you won’t even care if you have a cock anymore, let alone how big it is,” explained Mitch. He noticed Brandon tense up momentarily. Mitch chuckled and quickly added, “Don’t worry, I like guys with cocks, so I’m not going to cut it off or anything. You’ll still have it, even after you find you don’t even need to touch it to cum.”

Brandon breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Thank you Sir.”

“Okay, now time to get you ready for your new role in life and continue your training. Can you swallow a pill without water?” asked Mitch.

Brandon shook his head. Mitch delivered a light slap to the boy’s taunt stomach, “Always answer verbally unless you are gagged.”

“Sorry Sir. No Sir,” answered Brandon. It was obvious from the tone of his voice that he was worried about saying no and disappointing his new Master.

Mitch cupped the boy’s chin and raised his face up so he was looking in the boy’s eyes, “Brandon, never be afraid to give me an honest answer when I ask you a question. You will never be punished for being honest. You WILL be punished for lying, but not for being honest. Do you understand that Boy?”

“Yes Sir,” answered Brandon.

“Good, now open your mouth,” ordered Mitch. When Brandon complied, Mitch worked up a large amount of spit in his own mouth than leaned in and spit it into the twink’s open mouth. Mitch kept his hand on the boy’s chin and pressed his fingers into his cheeks, letting the boy know he was to keep his mouth open. He spit several more times into Brandon’s mouth, splattering the boy’s big red lips, chin, and cute button nose with spittle in addition to filling the boy’s mouth. When Brandon was struggling to keep from swallowing and spit was dripping down his chin, Mitch used his other hand to pull a small round tablet out of the small front inset pocket of his tight leather pants. He dropped the pill into the boy’s mouth.

“Swallow,” he ordered as he removed his fingers from the boy’s cheeks and pushed his chin up, closing his mouth.

Brandon wanted to ask what the pill was, but his mouth was full of spit and he remembered Mitch’s instructions from the night before that he was to take whatever pills Mitch gave him. He hesitated for a brief moment as he thought about everything that was happening to him. Is this what he wanted? Yesterday when he left the house after dinner in search of finding some older gay man that he could flirt with and tease in exchange for getting the old troll to buy him a pint of vodka to get drunk off of, he would have laughed at anyone that said he wanted to be a slave to a man that was as old as his father. Yet here he was, naked, displaying himself to the man, his mouth full of the man’s spit, an unknown pill in his mouth, and his little dick rock hard.

Brandon swallowed the pill.

“Good Boy,” said Mitch with an evil grin on his face, “You’re true self, a submissive slut boy, is starting to awaken deep within you. Now to properly mark you as the slave you are, you get a present.” Mitch reached behind him and pulled a leather collar out of his back pocket. He wrapped it around the boy’s small neck, tightened it so that it was snug but still left room for the boy to breath then attached a small padlock and locked the collar in place.

“This collar marks you for all to see as my property. It has a tag on it with my phone number and the inscription, ‘For Permission to Use Call’,” explained Mitch. He then pulled a leather blindfold out of his other pocket and put it over the boy’s head, adjusting and tightening it so that is was securely in place over his eyes. He then pushed the boy backwards, causing Brandon to fall onto his back on the mattress.

“You can relax for a few minutes while I go get the supplies I’ll need for the next step of your journey. Do not touch your blindfold, trust me, I’ll know,” said Mitch, then he turned and strode out of the room.

***

If you are looking for a story that rushes to the sex, I’m sorry but I have trouble righting that way. I like to explore the journey and take my time. Feel free to pm me feedback and suggestions for Brandon’s training (or you can leave it in the thread).

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