Sure, Why Not?

I catch my breath, before pushing myself to my feet and using the sink to wash my face off. I gather my clothes but don't put them on, delivering them to my room before crossing the hall to his. Lucas is sitting on his bed with his legs spread, his cock out, standing proud.

“So?”

“So?”

“Did you like being used like that?” he asks; I shrug, and Lucas motions, “Come, fag. Kneel down and worship my cock. I need to drop at least two loads for full relief.” I hesitate, and he snaps his fingers. I sigh and walk over, since he'll simply force me down again if I don't, now that he knows I won't fight back.

“Good boy. Now, do you like being talked to like that?” asks Lucas, reaching out and tangling his fingers in my hair and yanking my head forward, “I said worship my cock. Lick it.”

“Okay,” I reply, licking as he grinds my face against his dick, and he sighs in pleasure, “I don't love being called names like that, but I can handle it. You didn't exactly give me much choice.” I lick his cock from the base to the crown again, again, and again, in slow and reverent strokes.

“Of course not. If you're nothing but a subhuman faggot, I don't owe you a fucking thing, fag,” he says calmly, but lets me worship his cock without forcing me to suck and without skull-fucking me, “I haven't decided if that's what you are, yet, or not. I want to treat you like you deserve, like you want to be treated.”

“You told me you're submissive. Do you like having your little brother force you into service like this?” he asks, as I lick his cock for the fourth time. I shrug my shoulders and he kicks me in the nuts. I gasp against his cock and moan softly in pain, closing my eyes.

“Asked you a question, faggot. Answer me, or I just use you again as punishment,” he asserts himself fiercely, and I whine in pain, licking his cock as I do, because he'll be annoyed if I stop worshipping his cock due to him kicking me in the balls.

“I don't love it, but ... I don't mind it, I guess?” I answer truthfully, and he pulls my hair, sliding his cock into my mouth for a moment, and I suck quietly.

“Good boy, faggot, don't ever forget your place,” he says, “Here. I'll let you suck my cock for a minute.” He says it like it's a reward, before pulling my head off and making me resume licking.

“Do you prefer me to be gentle like this or would you prefer not to be your little brother's cocksucker, at all?” asks Lucas.

“I haven't decided how I feel about being on my knees for you,” I answer honestly, between one lick and the next of his fat cock, “but gentle is ... nicer. I can handle the nasty, but I think I prefer this over that.”

“Then I'll use you however I want, but I'll remember that you prefer to be directed not wrecked,” he says, “and if you decide you're not comfortable blowing me, at some point, we'll stop, no questions asked. All you have to do is say the word. Go ahead and suck my cock now. You've earned it.”

I don't reply, I just slide my tongue up his underside to the frenulum and coil it around the tip, the slide my mouth down on his prick. I moan softly and start sucking as my little brother starts stroking my scalp through my hair.

“That's it, babe, just like that,” Lucas says, switching from verbal abuse to verbal encouragement. I suck as hard as I can, bobbing my head, but I choke when I try to take it into my throat. Lucas doesn't force my head down.