WARNING: FUCKED UP SHIT AHEAD.

A/N: Okay, so you know how I said I was tempted to take this story darker? Well – that's about to happen. No joke you guys please take this warning seriously.

This chapter is going to contain non-consensual, violent and descriptive oral rape. It's going to be graphic, and it may just disturb the fuck out of you. If you can't handle this shit – please spare your untainted eyes and get out now. I cannot stress enough that I am a sick, despicable pervert. This has only been made worse at the hands of my new beta – MyHeroRaven – the smut goddess.

However, if this stuff floats your boat, you are welcome to enjoy. I know there was some people who want Rodrick meaner ;D. You're welcome.

Greg was not surprised that by the time he'd made his way back down, Rowley and Holly had already left. He sighed softly in relief as he hit the bottom stair - because even though he had sat and scrubbed his face raw, Greg could still smell Rodrick's cum every time he breathed in. It was so strong that he had actually believed his friends would be able to smell it too. It reminded Greg of thick, liquid bleach, which was rather ironic, in fact, because it definitely didn't make him feel clean.

That's right, he felt dirty, and this overpowering stench of his brother wasn't helping anything.

Suddenly, his legs threatened to give way. Greg took a few wobbly steps to the couch and sat back closing his eyes.

His reflection appeared; tight fist clenched against the mirrored glass; mouth hanging open deliriously… The image brought heat to Greg's cheeks and he shook his head back and forth, willing it away. That wasn't him. Well, yes it was but - he hadn't meant to act that way. Simply all coherent thoughts had escaped him as Rodrick took control.

"Oh yes please fuck me brother."

Greg's eyes snapped open at once. If this was what happened every time, Greg decided he would never close them again.

oOoOoOo

"What happened to you last night?" Rowley asked suddenly during their lunch break. The large boy had been hesitant at first; a little alarmed at the large dark circles under Greg's eyes. But after whispered encouragement from Holly, he gave in to his curiosity.

Greg took ages before he finally turned his eyes to his friends.

To be honest, looking into them, Rowley was kind of scared. A sort of resonating, abnormal evil seemed to linger as Greg blinked heavily, and Rowley was startled at the resemblance to Rodrick - never before in their friendship had he noticed it.

There was a pause as Greg ran his hand through unruly hair, opened his mouth, and then promptly closed it right away as if all words seemed to have escaped him.

"You went upstairs with Rodrick," Rowley continued, thinking that if he started out with the details, it would be easy for Greg to finish. But as soon as he said the older Heffley's name, Greg flinched.

Holly noticed it too. She turned to Rowley and they shared a concerned look. Their friend was definitely acting weird.

"Greg," Holly began now, voice thick and sweet as she reached across the lunch table and grabbed his hand comfortingly. Rowley thought it was awfully bold of her to do that, but if it helped Greg to talk… "Please tell us. We're worried, you know. You've been acting really strange lately."

As she said these words, it hit Rowley like a ton of bricks. Not lately. No, that wasn't specific enough. Greg had started acting strangely ever since Rodrick had given him that bruise. Ever since Rodrick had hurt Greg. The bet – with slave rules. What exactly was going on? Throwing all caution to the wind, Rowley interjected.

"Is Rodrick hurting you?"

Holly looked confused, and while she was distracted giving Rowley a what-are-you-talking-about look, Greg whipped his hand out from under hers and balled it at his side.

"No. He's not," he said, jaw tight. But Rowley couldn't help but still feel uneasy.

"Look, if he's hurting you, Greg, you need to tell someone," Rowley continued.

"HE'S NOT HURTING ME!"

There was a hushed silence all around the cafeteria. Several students looked over from their tables and surveyed the three eighth graders intently, wondering the cause of Greg's irritable outburst. Then after a few moments, the regular hustle and bustle resumed and Greg dropped his head into his hands.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you," Rowley said, still recovering from the shock of Greg's over-reaction. "I believe you." Even though it didn't feel right; didn't add up; didn't make sense. Rowley had no choice but to drop it after that.

oOoOoOo

Miserable. Greg felt tired, confused, scared, anxious and miserable stepping into his own house that afternoon.

He kicked off his shoes - noticing that Rodrick's weren't yet there- then turned into the kitchen and slumped over the table, shutting his eyes for the first time since the night before. It hadn't been too difficult to stay up all night. Greg had busied himself with overdue homework and then had proceeded to fill his entire sketchbook with doodles and drawings.

But now his exhaustion was consuming him even though he swear he could still smell his brother – if only faintly – when he breathed deeply.

"Greg!"

The young boy snapped to attention, not having any recollection of drifting off. He wiped some drool from his mouth as he surveyed his mother in front of him. She was carrying Manny on her hips and behind her sharp glasses eyes were looking him over cautiously. "Are you not feeling well?" she asked, setting Manny down and taking a step forward. Without any consent from Greg, she pressed her palm against his forehead and tsk'ed. "You're warm," she advised, removing her hand and looking deep into Greg's eyes. "And you don't look well at all. Your father might be right… is something wrong?"

Greg used to think it was hard lying to his mother. Now that he had done it a couple of times, as long as he had a purpose, it was easy. "You're right, I don't feel good. I'll go upstairs and have a nap." Anything to get away from her. She was the last person Greg wanted suspicious of his behavior – she always saw right through him.

He gathered his backpack he'd half-hazardly dropped onto the ground, and then stood up, feeling a little too anxious as he crossed the front door and made his way up the stairs. Once sure he was out of his mother's sight, Greg lifted his shirt slightly to inspect the name written on his lower stomach; it was almost completely faded now.

Soon he would no longer be a slave. Just like the letters he tried hard to hide, he would fade away from his brother's life. But why should he be worried about this? Rodrick was tearing him in half on purpose, Greg was sure of it.

In Greg's dreams, Rodrick was hunting him down – chasing him through an empty school. As Greg ran, he could feel the pounding of footsteps behind him, and he could hear the older brother calling his name. Bang bang bang. "Greg!" Getting closer and closer…

He turned a corner, reaching a dead end; knowing he should have felt panicked as he stared at the impenetrable wall before him. Yet as the banging grew louder and louder – as all hope flew out of him -he found comfort in knowing he was going to die at the hands of his brother.

"GREG!"

Finally, Greg woke in a sweat. He was breathing erratically, and his heart was pounding almost just as loud as the thundering fist against his door.

Rodrick.

He hopped out of bed, delirious and groggy from his deep REM sleep, and unlocked the door. It burst open to reveal Rodrick and a sobbing Manny.

"Bubbbyyyyy!" Manny screeched, wriggling out of Rodrick's hold – tiny fists clenching and unclenching towards his favorite brother. Greg didn't know what was going on, but next thing he knew Rodrick was thrusting the small child in his arms.

"About time," Rodrick seethed.

"Wh – what's going on?" Greg asked, blinking hard and rubbing his eyes as Manny curled against him, rubbing his dripping, snotty nose against his arm. None of this made sense. Why was Rodrick carrying Manny around? "What time is it?"

"It's eight, idiot. Mom and Dad went out, we're stuck babysitting."

"Out?" Greg repeated slowly.

"Some friends are in town or something. I don't know. Anyway it's past his bed time."

"Noo, Bubby, no bed time."

Finally, Greg understood the situation. He surveyed Manny quickly, taking in everything from the splotchy redness of his face to the streaming snot and tears. "What did you do to him?" Greg asked slowly. It was all evidence towards a gigantic tantrum.

"I didn't do anything!" Rodrick snapped, a little too defensively. "I tried putting him to bed but then he freaked out and bit me." At this, the wild teen presented his arm where indeed, there was a very noticeable bite mark. "It's your fault too, he kept screaming for you but you were asleep." Greg had to control his urge to laugh, so instead he brushed past Rodrick and made his way downstairs. "Where are you going? Put him to bed!"

"I am," Greg replied, carefully taking the stairs one at a time. He was very aware of Rodrick following behind him, unable to shake the images from his dream away just yet. He sat down on the couch, readjusted Manny beside him and then turned on the television to the all hour children's channel.

"You're letting him watch TV?"

"Yea, it will calm him down. Then we'll put him to B-E-D."

Greg had seen his mother do this plenty of times before. Since Manny was not allowed to watch television normally, it was a treat for the small child. It worked like a charm too; because within moments Manny's wide eyes were glued to the screen and a trance seemed to come over him.

As if in disbelief, Rodrick stood with his arms crossed at his two brothers. Then finally, he took a seat next to Greg and settled in. "This better work," he mumbled.

Even though Greg's dry eyes pleaded for more sleep, it was absolutely impossible to concentrate on anything with the older brother now beside him. Almost as if on cue the sickening smell of cum came back, and Greg couldn't help but stare at his older brother in the darkness. The black hair, those cruel eyes. Was this really his favorite person? Rodrick had forced him to have – well it wasn't sex, but it was practically the closest thing to it. There probably wasn't a "base" for having his brother's hard dick slipping wet between his legs either. It made Greg's skin crawl with heat as he pictured it in that mirror once again -

"What are you looking at?"

Greg had been so lost in his gaze that the teen had noticed. Now Rodrick was turned towards his brother, giving him a questioning stare.

"Nothing," Greg said immediately, snapping his head in the direction of the television. Bright cartoon characters rolled and played on screen, but nothing could distract him from sensing that lingering gaze on the back of his neck. Eyes forward, back straight, don't look.

Then Rodrick leaned forwards a little. "Could it be that you want your five minutes?"

Greg flinched as the hot breathe of these words tickled the side of his face. "No!" he hissed in protest. Anymore of this and surely he was going to burst. His heart was already hammering hard against his chest making his head swirl with these torn feelings. Excitement, anxiety, disgust.

Rodrick was still looking at him. "Well, you don't really have a say in the matter, slave. Look at me."

No. Eyes forward. Back straight. Don't –

Rodrick's hand flew out, grabbing Greg's chin and forcing the eye contact. "Do you want me to be mean, Greg?" That was an easy question, but Greg didn't want to answer it aloud. On top of that, he was finding it really hard to look into those eyes. If he didn't listen, Rodrick was definitely going to hurt him. He whimpered, testing Rodrick's grip. "Answer me, or I'll take it as a yes."

Heat rose to his cheeks as Greg forced the words out. "No…"

"Then fucking listen to your master next time." Rodrick instructed, fingers removing Greg's chin. They ran down his neck and wrapped around it, cupping and pulling his face forwards. Before Greg could even protest Manny's presence, Rodrick had pressed warm lips firmly onto his. He trembled, feeling like he would melt right there, opening his mouth eagerly to let the tongue rub against his. Greg knew he shouldn't – but once again the poor boy had all control taken from him. He could only weakly allow Rodrick to continue, trying not to helplessly squeak into his brother's mouth as he thumbed the back of his neck. Oh god it was happening again. This aching lust building right below his stomach was making Greg go crazy. He suddenly wanted that tongue on his body – licking and biting, swirling hot against his flesh.

Rodrick sat back to unbutton his jeans, breaking the kiss and leaving Greg shifting uncomfortably. He looked back nervously to make sure Manny was still distracted just as Rodrick grabbed Greg's hand and pressed it against his crotch. Greg was horrified. His immediate reaction was to pull his hand away –but Rodrick simply grabbed it again, firmer this time, and pressed it back against a hardening bulge.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Greg hissed, as Rodrick lifted his hips, grinding good and hard against the hand.

"You are going to jerk me off, slave," he answered. He stopped grinding momentarily to unzip his jeans, hand disappearing beneath the folds of denim. After a moment the hand pulled out of his cotton boxers, and in the dark Rodrick withdrew his stiff hard-on.

This couldn't be happening.

"Stop, it's not funny Rodrick. Manny's right there," he whispered. Yet he couldn't look away or continue to protest as Rodrick forced his palm against the length and squeezed – wrapping his hand tightly around it. Greg could feel every bit of that hot flesh, and it was literally twitching in his hand. As he stared, mortified, at what his actions, pre-cum glistened against the head in the light cartoons playing from the television screen.

"Ah, feels good, Greg. Jerk me, you slutty little bitch."

Even though the words were ice cold, Greg couldn't help suddenly feeling way too hot. His hand burned in a way he couldn't quite understand. He was touching Rodrick – forced to squeeze the dick firmly as his brother's fingers dug against his own.

"Don't call me that," Greg said, stomach turning as his small hand moved with Rodrick's – up and down as muscles throbbed and pre-cum coated his fingers. It was too hot – too sticky.

"Mmm, but you're a dirty slave, aren't you?" No. He shook his head but was afraid to open his mouth and say otherwise. Instead, Greg was sucked into the trance of watching his hand move along his brother's shaft. "Aghh, shit."

Greg was just getting carried away when he felt the movement at his feet. Manny. He whipped around in time to see the youngest Heffley staring at them through the darkness. Rodrick didn't seem as if he had been expecting Greg to stop – which ironically made it easy for Greg to do so. His heart leapt into his throat as he shielded Manny's view. "I-I'm going to take him to bed now," he said over his shoulder.

With that Greg scooped Manny up and walked purposefully up the stairs – heart still beating wildly. He was in a complete daze the entire way to his younger brother's room, trying to forget the feeling of the burning flesh he had shamefully made contact with.

"Night night Bubby," Manny said as Greg lowered him onto his toddler bed.

oOoOoOo

The teen leaned casually against the doorframe, dick stuffed away but jeans still undone as he waited for Greg to hurry it up and put the baby brat to sleep. He wasn't going to leave this unfinished. Hell no, he was hard as fuck and wound up to boot. Greg was his slave, and if the wimp thought he was going to get off that easily, he had another thing coming. Things were just getting good anyway.

"Goodnight Manny," Greg said, bending down and ruffling the child's hair.

Rodrick felt like he was going to be sick.

"What a good big brother you are," he sneered as Greg shut the door – shivering visibly at Rodrick's closeness. Rodrick couldn't help but take a step forwards. Greg inched backwards into the open, dark hallway that overlooked the living room. "But I think you're an even better slave."

"Y-you had your f-five minutes," Greg said, physically trembling from head to toe – in what probably was fear but what Rodrick was definitely mistaking as pleasure. The boy was just squirming in his place, legs crossing to hide his obvious arousal. Still, the protest pissed Rodrick off. The way Greg needed him - the way he needed Greg - it made him sick inside with desire, and somewhere inside of him anger boiled. Thinking about all he wanted to do and how his little brother was a hot slut about it all…

Without any kind of warning he shoved Greg so hard he slammed into wall – head smashing against the drywall with an aching thump.

Good... he thought, taking advantage of the pained and hurt boy by shoving Greg to his knees...

"You don't get it. I made up the five minute rule." He grabbed a very firm hold of Greg's hair – pulling the roots just enough to emphasize to the boy that he was not going anywhere. "Truth is, you made it too easy for me. I didn't expect you to be such a whore."

"B-but – " Greg stopped, eyes widening as Rodrick pulled out his member once again that night. His dick was fucking aching as he pressed it against Greg's lips, delighting every time he had to pull that hair to keep Greg's face still. "Mmff." Ugh, fucking that throat that was usually used for tattling was going to feel fantastic.

He couldn't help but push his hips forward a little, forcing Greg's mouth open - lips encircling the wet tip. Eyes looked up at him, confused and permanently winced against the hand in his hair. "Show me what a good slave you are and use your tongue."

Nothing.

"Use it, Greg." Rodrick loosened his grip in his brother's hair, sensing the lack of fight. "Make me cum."

"Mfffnn... nuhhhhhh..." he whined.

"You're going to obey me or I'll make sure your life is miserable from here on out. You think this is bad sweetheart? This is nothing compared to what I will do to you." Rodrick shook Greg's head, prompting a response, cold eyes gazing into his brother's. It was all Greg's fault for loving him so completely. "So... now are you going to suck me off and swallow all my hot creamy cum down without complaint? Or am I going to have to really hurt you?"

Finally, the virgin muscle rubbed his head tentatively. Rodrick was sure he had never felt anything more pleasurable in his life. Greg's mouth was just too hot and that small, experimenting tongue circling round and round was making Rodrick weak in the knees. "Uggn, yea... fucking take my cock, good boy..."

Rodrick knew his pre-cum was spreading hot on Greg's tongue – member leaking as it filled that tiny, sweet, and succulent mouth. Shit, just knowing his sticky juices were mixing with Greg's saliva – the young boy forced into tasting every bead of pre-fuck that slipped within his little cocksucker mouth.

Damn.

With as much will power as he could muster, he pulled out, lifting his cock and revealing the muscled underside. "Lick."

"Rodrick – "

The older boy scowled, heart thumping adrenaline. Was Greg finally going to beg him to stop?

"Aw, what's the matter? Lick it like a dog, Greg."

His thumb pulled roughly on his brother's chin – opening that mouth and cock throbbing at the sight of the tongue already sticking out obediently. Greg leaned forward, so hesitant and innocent and everything that Rodrick wanted to taint. His young brother gave a few, weak little licks – looking absolutely disgusted as he did so.

Ugh, didn't he know his fight was just turning Rodrick on even more?

He couldn't help but curl both hands into Greg's hair this time – pressing that tongue hard against him by forcing the boy's head forward. It ran hot and wet up along his shaft.

"Thtop – Wadwick … pleathe…"

Fuck, he was not a good person. Rodrick definitely needed help as he ignored Greg's pleas, losing all control as he forced his cock into his sweet little brother's mouth once again. This time he didn't take it slow. He wasn't cautious. His hips thrust hard into Greg's mouth and the wimp choked immediately – throat opening and swallowing every inch of the thick member. He tasted everything Rodrick had to offer - all the leaking hotness spilling into his mouth. There was so much precum a little even slipped out of the corner of Greg's stretched, full mouth. The little brother gagged as he swallowed a little too much down into his small belly.

"But mmm, it suits you Greg. You were meant to suck cock - ahh, c'mon Greg – use your fucking tongue."

Tears were brimming in Greg's eyes, from choking or his actions, Rodrick couldn't tell. He knew he was hurting Greg – knew it was uncomfortable. But oh fuck he needed his brother. Needed him to get rid of this lust - cure it with his fucking throat just this once and he'd be gentler next time. He thrust in again, and again as Greg choked. The young boy's tongue finally began to move; but it was doing so forcefully, almost as if trying to fight the oral invasion.

The sobbing started. Greg was heaving so hard snot and a little blood dripped from his nose. His mouth would surely be bruised at the corners from the forceful invasion. He whimpered and sobbed, big fat tears rolling down his face... over his lips. That perfect mouth so stuffed - so full of Rodrick.

It was fucking delicious.

"Shut up – stop crying – agh fuck. You're actually feeling really good, aren't you? You like it when I fuck your mouth." Rodrick's hands forced Greg's head to nod along to his words – relishing sick pleasure at the tightening throat. Oh god, he was going to cum. He felt the pleasure uncoiling as he thrust deeply again, drool running down Greg's chin.

That was it. Rodrick was lost as his warm, thick cum spilled into that tiny, hot mouth, hitting the back of Greg's throat and forcing the young boy to take it all. "Nng, yea swallow it. Come on you little bitch." He forced more and more of his cum down Greg's throat. Squirt, squirt, squirt – until it settled, sick and hot into his small stomach. Greg would feel so dirty.

Rodrick withdrew, and Greg collapsed to the ground – bending over and gasping for air.

The older brother did not have time to relish his actions; or ask Greg how much he hurt; or try to make it better at all. The front door creaked open, and Rodrick cursed the re-appearance of his parents. Just when it was getting fun – just when he wanted to make Greg scream out loud…

"Boys?" their mother called out into the darkness. Greg managed to shuffle backwards. The terrified boy gave one last look at Rodrick before scrambling into the open door of his room and shutting it softly.

He'd definitely taken it too far.

A/N: I warned you. /hides. LOL.

I dedicate this chapter to my wonderful editor/beta reader MyHeroRaven. Thank you for your support and motivation; your sick mind; and generally your help/praise! :D She helped write some of this chapter as well, and it wouldn't be posted this quickly without her.

Please review! Just please don't yell at me for traumatizing you.