HOW IT ALL ENDS
It was only a few weeks later but it felt like an eternity. Which was appropriate for an experience straight from hell.
The attorney had promised to help the brothers. In a way he was doing just that. The boys couldn't be seen in public and had no desire to interact with anyone they once knew. But on the other hand the "help" was not any less nightmarish than the curse itself.
As it turned out, the attorney was about to retire and hand his work over to others, including the bumbling assistant Mike. Which put the brothers ultimately into Mike's care.
Caesar had known that things were not going his way when Mike had refused to take the choke-collars off. Since cutting the boys' breath could only last so long without killing them, Mike made copious use of the collar's electroshock function. Whenever he wanted to see them in his office he would send a brutal shock through both their bodies for way longer than necessary and then speak through the collar to the boy he wanted to see, which would be perfectly sufficient without the torture.
It quickly turned out that the attorney was a competent and relatively fair man while Mike was outright evil and continued to act as if the brothers had brought it all upon themselves.
Most nights one of the boys had to give Mike his "good night fuck". Caesar had a hard time deciding if he hated oral or anal more. While Mike's dick was disgusting in his mouth and swallowing cum still made the boy retch, the pain from ass fucking was akin to tearing his guts out, thanks to the mark that kept his sphincter perpetually self-tightening.
Ángel was going through the same thing of course but due to the piercings Mike liked to twist and flick the younger to tears as well.
Some days the boys served as assistants to Mike, making copies, brewing coffee and so on. They weren't allowed to be seen by clients since all they could wear was a flimsy dick pouch that covered basically nothing.
But just because they worked for the man and served him in the bedroom did not mean they got to live with him or that he paid them. Oh no, they still had to earn rent.
They lived together in a cupboard sized room above the bar where Caesar had been tortured into unconsciousness. The only noteworthy piece of furniture was a sex swing hanging in the middle of the place.
If either of the boys wanted, they could tell Mike to send them clients and would entertain the men for an hour. The money from that went to Mike directly who took a cut before adding it to their rent.
But since the "entertainment" usually consisted of pain and sex, the brothers agreed to only use this offer as a last resort when the bar's owner threatened eviction. So far that had only happened once but the boys hadn't even lived there for a full month.
Their "real" job was at the bar itself. The teens' job description included taking orders, making drinks, cleaning tables – and of course flirting with the costumers, who saw nothing wrong with putting their hands on the minors' bodies wherever they wanted.
That might not sound so bad, but the bar quickly gained notoriety with a certain type of man. Guys from all over the country came by to see the brothers who had fucked in public. Business was booming and it seemed that costumers got more daring every day, with some shoving their fingers up the boys' holes as they walked by.
Whenever the patrons wanted they could insist on a presentation of the skills they had seen in the video that had been made in the bar on the day of the curse. Caesar and Ángel danced on stage, often with some restraining gear.
Certainly the boys would have gone insane and their minds would have broken at the humiliation. Perhaps surprisingly they adjusted well due to the simple fact that they were allowed to keep doing what brought them to most joy in life – weight lifting.
If anything they had more time for their hobby now since it doubled as work. Some men liked to watch the naked muscle teens get sweaty and exhausted from a hard lifting routine.
While working at the bar kept their rent reasonably low, they still had other expenses. And so they found a new way to milk their fame – using the fact that not every man who wanted to see them could afford to travel to the bar.
The muscle teen brothers stood very close to each other because there wasn't much space in their room but also to fit into the frame.
An ultrahigh definition camera was by far the most expensive item they owned. Posing, oiling up, wrestling, sexy dancing and simply being dumb, jockish teen boys. Those were the activities for today's live show –as always.
The subscribers loved their antics to much that the boys could afford a lot of nice things that Mike would have never provided for them. Sometimes their internet audience was even contempt watching them play video games or see who could eat the most hamburgers.
Of course the viewers expected a certain kind of action and the brothers had to deliver. It was standard practice by now to wear cock rings at all times during filming to ensure that their enormous rods were prominently displayed.
At the end of every weekly broadcast, the audience got the climax they had subscribed for.
Caesar and Ángel made out. It had become a sort of game to them and the initial disgust was long gone. Of course it helped that they were perpetually horny and had no chance to meet a girl ever again.
Their kisses were rough, almost a small fight. By turning it into a struggle for dominance the activity had become bearable to them.
Every so often they jerked off together. There was really no point in posing for an hour in front of the camera with an unnaturally hard erection if they didn't cum in most broadcasts. This was what kept the subscriber numbers climbing.
Caesar shot his load second, spraying his pecs while Ángel already cleaned himself.
"That was great," he said to the camera, "I hope you'll watch again next week. Bye."
The older brother turned off the device and wiped the cum off his ripped body.
"You know what, Ángel? I think we almost made so much money that we don't have to take any costumers. But one or two will still be necessary."
The younger boy sighed. "I fucking wish we could get more viewers."
"We are. It just takes time."
Ángel frowned. "No, I want it faster. If we're known to the whole internet as the Anal Whore Bros we should at least get as fucking famous as possible. Milk the perverts for all they've fucking got."
"How?"
The younger grinned. "Next time you blow me. Boom. A million new subs."
Caesar flinched. "Are you fucking insane?"
"Why not? You've done it before."
"So have you, fucker. Bad enough that all these gross men and Mike use my holes as they please, I'm not serving my little bro, too."
"Fine," Ángel said, "We'll toss a fucking coin."
"What?"
"Come on, dude. More money means more freedom, right?"
As fucked up as their lives were, Caesar still wanted to make the best of it, and if there was a way to stop getting costumer's dicks in his ass that was worth considering.
"Alright, Ángel, we'll be the best fucking Anal Whore Bros the world has ever seen. For the money."
They high fived and went straight to the video game console. Whoever won three rounds was going to get his dick sucked live on air next week.
In another room, unbeknownst to the boys, the bar owner was looking at his screen which showed footage from the camera he had hidden in the brothers' ceiling light. So they were going to make more money soon. Well, he couldn't have his costumers turned away, Mike would agree with that. I sounded like the Anal Whore Bros would find their rent suddenly doubled. There would be no going back for them. And no escape.
Thanks for reading. Wow that was a lot of cruel torture. But it's still more of a happy ending than Van and Eli got. At least the brothers have each other. If you liked it, please tell me, I want to know your favorite part.