“You…” Eji groaned. He shook his head as Shintas hand landed on his privates. His dick instantly reacted and grew, a soft, tickling sensation went through Ejis body. Shinta mean-while raised head and looked Eji into the eyes. “Are you okay? Shall I… stop?” He had just tickled the top of Ejis penis with one finger. Eji bit into his lip, he was shaking. “I… you know… I…”, he stuttered. He gulped. Shintas touch seemed to create fire in his chest. His chest was moving, his heart whispering in favor of anything Shinta would be ready to do. Eji looked down and registered the bump in the white haired’s underpants. It was as if they were standing on the top of a staircase in the middle of nowhere. Shinta felt cold, as if it were snowing. And he felt… hot. “I’m not sure if we should do this!” Eji looked away, not that he was actually capable of hiding the small smile on his face. His face was red, his cheeks al-most burning. “Why not?” Shintas voice was calm, as were his eyes. And he waited. “I… I don’t know! You know that someone could come in anytime! And that’s if nobody’s already watching us.” “But why should they care? It’s not illegal to… you know… And it’s not like I’m able to brainwash you or something. It’s just… We could both use some relaxation, right? Even your concerned brother has agreed to us. Don’t you think that he saw this here as a possibility?” He hesitated. “And don’t you want it to happen?” Eji looked down at his lap. He played around with his thumbs. Finally he looked up and said: “Yes, yes I do!” Shinta grinned. His hands wandered around Ejis waist. Then he grabbed the underwear fabric, yanked it upwards, stood up and pulled Eji close to himself. Eji gasped. This was it. This was exactly what he had hoped for. His brother had been pretty good in giving wedgies. Same for Alex or Miles. Margun was a genius. But Roger had often pushed it. And his wedgies after escaping were simply brutal! Shinta knew exactly how strong to pull, to comfort Ejis ass with his own underpants. Their bodies were rubbing against each other, their bellies. Eji was standing on his tip toes. His lips, still shaking, were less than a centimeter away from Shintas own. They stared at each other. And Shintas eyes grew wide as Eji pulled down his gray underwear! Shinta gasped, looked down as his underpants landed around his ankles. Eji raped his hands around Shintas butt and pressed against the cheeks. By now it was Shintas time to groan. They gasped. Slowly he got a hold on Ejis underwear. “You’re sure?”, he asked. And Eji laughed. “You bet!” So it was his underwear’s turn to fall down some young legs.
“AH! Ouch! Ouch!” Miles whines as Drake pulled his briefs even higher. By now he was standing on his tip toes. The front of his very own tighty whities covered his belly and moved towards his chest. And if that wasn’t enough: His shorts were starting to sink down his body. Miles’ eyes were wet as the waistband reached his neck. “Ups, that that hurt?”, Drake taunted as he lifted his brother into the air. He was strong enough to keep the younger boy in the air with one hand, so he could use the other one to pull those damn shorts down and threw them into a corner. His brothers butt was on full display now, as it had been over and over throughout their youth. “Come on! Stop it! PLEASE!” Miles tried to run through the air, in vain. Drake bounced him up and down. “So here’s the deal: An atomic – but you’re allowed to stay in your room. Thirty Melvin’s – but you’re allowed to hide the wedgies with your clothes. Or…” Miles grimaced. He grabbed his crotch and pressed his eyes shut. “Or what?” Drake smiled. “Or a swirly and fifty spankings – bare butt, naked.” He raised his eye brows. “You decide. And I’m going to order myself a pizza while you think about this.” He hung up Miles by his underpants on a coat hook, crossed both arms behind his back and eyed his pained brother up and down. “Have fun…” “Hanging around, I know”, Miles muttered, his gaze focused on his stretched out legs. “Yeah, very good, Loser!” Drake winked and patted Miles cheek. After that he yawned and went up the stairs to phone up the nearest pizzeria. Miles looked down, touched the back of his head and sighed deeply. He had been dumb enough to think he could just get his skateboard and go outside again in order to meet his friends at the park. But of course his brother had been there. He always seemed to know when e possible target was near. Jimmy, the only little brother Miles had, had called it “The butt signal” – of course while pulling his red briefs out of his crack. Most of his siblings were outside, campaigning for Shinto. He was oldest one of them and longed for a seat in the senate. This was a joke in Miles mind, since every decision from that senate had to be approved by the emperor – and could be undone by a mere signature of her. But on the other side such a position brought prestige and valuable connections. And a long, brutal fight. Not everybody admitted it, but all the senators wanted to be the direct advisor of the emperor, the vice president. Miles wasn’t sure if his brother was strong willed enough for that. Drake, however, would of simply tried to punch the crap out of his contesters. But he wasn’t a valuable choice anyway. Drake was a weird guy. Miles couldn’t remember his big brother ever talking about future plans even once. Where would he go? What would he do? At the moment he seemed pleased with beating up his younger siblings, giving them swirlys and wedgies and spankings. But he couldn’t do that forever. They would all leave alone at some point. He had to be thinking about his future… right? Drake had worked in grocery shops and bakeries before, sure. But he had never been able to keep those jobs. Their mother had had a different mental line. She had worked hard, sometimes spend days without sleep, in order to find a job and earn some money. And even after meeting her husband she had tried to teach this to her children. “Ah”, Miles whined as his toes almost touched the floor. His face was red. He shook his head and put a hand between his butt and the underwear piercing through it. Miles placed both feet on the wall, in order to secure himself, and tried to unhook his briefs from the coat hook. He knew that Drake wouldn’t like this, but the pain was just to much for him. And since he was in a position of choosing one of three beatings… he wasn’t going to like this anyway. Unfortunately he lost his balance, so that Miles found himself lying on the air, his arms and legs stretching towards the thick and green carpet, his butt exposed for everyone to be seen. “Fuck It!” And Miles placed his chin in both of his hands. This was what he hated: getting used to the wedgie. He could of tried to keep his humiliation from becoming steady – probably. But he wasn’t in the mood for that anymore. And he had giving up on hoping that his underpants would rip before Drake came down. He knew how this went. Drake would come down with a whole bunch of briefs any not let Miles go before they all were ripped into shreds. Perhaps he would allow him to choose after that, perhaps before. But he would add this anyway. And indeed he heard someone coming down the stairs. Miles gulped. He winced. The sudden movement send nails through his crack. It was his brother – but not Drake. “Ouch, hanging wedgie, huh?” It was Freddy. He was a year older than Miles. His hair was long and black, his incisors just a little bit sharper than that of anybody else. Miles had never found out why this was so, only that Freddy and their father had argued loudly about it – which ended with their dad winning and Freddy being grounded for a month. Miles adored his guy. Not only because Freddy was a pretty gut magician (his shows were great, he had done several appearances on the campaign trail) but also because he was the only one of them who dared to fight back against their older brother Drake. Freddy and Drake fought each other on pretty much every single day, sometimes more serious, sometimes less. Now granted, Freddy often enough ended up naked, his ripped underpants pulled down his chin, but he had also managed to give Drake some damn hard wedgies, a few black eyes and once even a missing tooth. But there was also something else about Freddy: When he was at home he also wore the same stuff: A white shirt and his briefs underwear. Their dad hated any form of nudity. He liked having sons, but he often admitted, behind closed doors of course, that he viewed the conception, the sex, as an “unpleasant duty”. Pajamas were one thing. He sometimes grimaced at the, yet they were not forbidden. But Freddy in underpants? Especially when the pair usually was a little too big, so that it would slip down a little, reveling some skin, the top of the crack. Miles forced himself to smile. He raised a hand in a greeting gesture. “What’s up?” Freddy laughed and pointed at him. “You, it seems.” He sighed. “Drake, right?” “Sure!” The rest of their brotherhood exchanged wedgies or spanks from time to time. But wedgies like this one had a clear signature. Freddy stepped closer and held out his arms. “Come on, I’ll get you down.” “Are you nuts?” Eji blinked in disbelief. “Drake wants to beat me up. AND he expects me to wait here. If I get down…” “Stop crying and let me help you? Do I need to beat you up before you get it?” He didn’t wait for a response. And so he unhooked the briefs and allowed his little brother to land on his feet. Miles wasn’t sure what to hold on to: His butt or his privates. Therefore he used one for each. His underwear was so stretched out that it could have fitted a boy twice as high or wide as he. “Pick your wedgie – do I have to do anything?” But Freddy didn’t sound mean. He smiled and yanked Miles’ briefs out of his crack. “AH!”, Miles screamed. He lowered his gaze and spotted that his undies hung down enough to almost touch his ankles. He grimaced. “Thanks.” Freddy shrugged. “No problem. Now come, I’ll get you a shake.” “Well…” Miles wasn’t sure what to say about this. He could use one of those fruit shakes. And a discussion with a GOOD Brother would possibly distract him from the pain, the itching in his crack. But there was another side to this coin. “What about Drake? You know what he’s going to do if I leave!” But Freddy simply snorted. “We’ll pack your stuff and then we go for a shake and some fries. So, that’s my last word. Now go! I’ll take care of Drake.” “Oh, really?” Freddy screamed once Drake appeared behind his brothers and pulled their underpants up to the top of their head. He smiled, enjoyed the moment… and pulled the fabric over their heads, where he allowed it to snap back. “I tell you! Nothing’s better than kicking loser butt!” Drake laughed and smacked against their asses. Miles winced. He could see this beating coming from a mile away. He played around with his thumbs and tried to find an excuse. He could probably throw Freddy under the bus and get a lesser ass kicking. Drake would believe him – and he would like that Miles was scared enough to rat out his brother in order to get that treatment. But he just couldn’t do it. Meanwhile Freddy, even though he was grimacing and sweating, grabbed his waistband and pulled his underwear back down to his butt. He slowly turned around and stared at Drake. With one hand he undid Miles’ atomic wedgie and said: “You heard what I said. I’ll get you when I’m finished here.” “Or I will”, Drake taunted. “But, Fred..:” “Get out of here! Now!”, Freddy ordered. Miles frowned. He cast a quick glance at Freddys exposed, wedgied butt. He felt as if someone had forced him to eat rotten cheese. This was his fault. And now Freddy is going to protect him in a battle. He could probably win, or at least it wasn’t impossible. But had he been fighting now without Miles being in trouble? Well, it was a risk to walk around Drake in your underwear…. Miles sighed, shook his head and ran up the stairs. He quickly got dressed in black shorts, a gray shirt and shining sports shoes. He sat down on his bed, lowered his gaze and tried to blend out the world around him. He could hear his brothers fighting. Their grunts, their screams. He wasn’t exactly sure what awaited him if Freddy would win. BUT he knew very well what Drake would do if he won. Minute came after minute. Miles was shaking. He tried to forget what came before. He tried to forget what would come. He cast a glance to tirano, his little silver dragon, who slept in a gray cage. It was filled with yellow straw and a small red rubber ball. He was quit, he was peaceful. And he was a present that his mum had brought back from her last trip. If he could, why not Miles? “Stop staring holes into the air – we need to go.” Miles looked up in surprise. Yes… Freddy stood there, his head covered in a new atomic wedgie. He wore a few bruises and he seemed close to a black eye. But he didn’t seem troubled and so Miles took it that Freddy had actually won the fight. But if the victor came back with an atomic wedgie… what had happened to the loser then?
Miles blinked, yawned and rubbed against his eyes. He sat up and tried to get a hold on the world surrounding him. It was dark. Through a large window wall he could spot the sea, a sky filled with stars. Where was…? Then the memorys came back to him. He turned his head to the side and saw Light lying in the same bed as Miles. With his back to him. Naked. Miles frowned. Could air touched his skin. He looked down and noticed that he himself was naked. What the hell had happened here?