Privacy Lost

The removal of a bedroom door is a difficult task, as is the act of restoring it. The houses in Pacific Discovery Residences are built different. Interior doors are as heavy and sturdy as exterior doors, as a luxury that provides a certain ambience.

Doors of heavy, polished hardwood look nicer than those in lesser homes. It isn't so much an extravagance as a matter of priorities. Dad always said, they could have chosen a nice condominium in the metropolitan hub, or an exurban property.

Pacific Discovery Residences isn't exclusive because it's expensive. It's exclusive because of the cookie-cutter housing and the contractual obligations. Living here, there's a community board which passes ordinances you, contractually, agree to.

It enables the community — not one resident, or some collective landowner living elsewhere — to vote to evict. In such an instance, you're required to sell the property back to the community, for the current property value you've maintained.

Once I've bid farewell to Amy, with a hug that found her hands on my ass, I return. The twins wait, and I move to hold the door. There's no ordinance that bars the removal of interior doors, and so I take the screwdriver when Juno hands me it.

The removal of the door is also a symbolic act. It's a multiple-day warning about what it means to be a faggot, living here. It's a warning about what my life will be like, if once Amy deprograms me, I decide to request permanent reprogramming.

I lift up on the balls of my feet and unscrew the top hinge, then crouch down to unscrew the bottom. Once the door has been totally freed, Enzo and Juno manoeuvre it into my room, then turn it. “Okay, Juno, let's get this thing to the garage.”

I follow obediently, because I still have the screwdriver to return to the same destination. Once we arrive, and I put the screwdriver away, the twins turn to look at me. “You know this means you'll be woken up for service if we wish it, right?”

“Yea,” I nod, my voice low and soft. The twins step closer, their eyes taking in my nude frame, before returning to looking me in the eye. I can tell when they're thinking about how to phrase something, or they feel they should say something.

“Are you okay with that?” Enzo asks.

“Am I allowed to change my mind?” I ask, and Juno scoffs at me.

“Of course you are, faggot!” Juno replies, “If you want a bedroom door, and clothes, all you have to do is tell Mom and Dad that being the family's free-use whore is okay, but you're not comfortable being nude all the time, and having no privacy.”

“And if you aren't okay with being the family's free-use whore,” Enzo adds firmly, “Tell us. Right now, faggot. We will not rape you. If you tell us you don't want to service us, we won't use you. Mom and Dad won't use you absent your consent.”

“Thank you,” I nod, “I didn't mean to ... turn it so heavy all of the sudden, but ... you asked the question. This is still really, really new.” The twins smile permissively and nod. They can tell I'm not saying no to this, just checking that I get a choice.

“So, still our free-use faggot?” Juno prompts, wanting confirmation, and I smile.

“Yea, still your free-use faggot,” I blush, but I'm smiling. Enzo and Juno jointly hug me, squeezing me tightly as they lift me off my feet together, then set me back down. It's kind of cool, actually, having younger siblings capable of doing that.

I never would've thought so, when we were kids, but now? I recognise something important. It means if I pass out, if I'm hurt, they're physically able to carry me to get help. That's a damn serious reassurance to me, regarding personal safety.

“Okay, so, do you two need me right now?” I ask. They did just feed me not that long ago, but they're also eighteen. It isn't as if it would be out of the realm of possibility they need their cocks sucked again, ten minutes later, if it's on free offer.

“No, no,” Juno giggles cheerfully, “we're going to play some video games. Unless you wanna just lay at our feet licking our cocks while we're gaming, of course, faggot? I mean, we wouldn't mind, or anything!” They both grin at me mischievously.

“No, no!” I blush, but smile, waving my hands lightly in the air, “It's just, well, those cocks are my job, now, I don't want to risk shirking my duties, either, y'know?” Enzo snickers.

“Ever the responsible one, even now,” Enzo kisses my cheek, “No, we're good. For now. We will come back to you here and use you at our leisure if we need to, I promise ... but, you're a faggot, not an appliance. You deserve some me time, as well.”

“And since your job is to tend to our cocks ... well,” Juno hums, shrugging, turning her palms up at the ceiling, “We feel as if your me time should be ... well, anytime there's not a hard cock in the house. If that me time involves licking my balls?”

“Then I can freely come and ask to serve,” I conclude for her, and the twins nod. “Thanks, guys. Okay, I guess I'll grab one of my T.B.R.'s and lay down to read.” The twins nod, kiss me on opposite cheeks, and then turn and leave me in my room.

Alone and well-fed, I turn and go to my book cabinet. Stepping foot into the Shannara Saga for the first time seems like a good idea, tonight. I should have a couple hours before someone's cock needs fresh attention, so I could make fair progress.