My Brother Is My Bully...

Chapter 19: Back at It

Marcel's POV:

I was sitting in my room reading one of my most recent comic books, Dead-pool. Everyone loves him now I guess, but little do they know that I knew about Dead-pool long before any of them got interested in him. I've always been a fan of his comics. Most of the girls just like him for his skin tight suit and the way he acts like an ignorant, cocky asshole. Makes perfect sense. Girls are into that shit, right? Idk, I wouldn't know.

Just then, I heard the door downstairs open and shut, suspiciously quiet, like the person coming in didn't wanna be heard. I backed up toward the back of my bed, hovering under my comic book.

Idk why, but I automatically assumed that I knew who it was. I automatically assumed that he would walk up the stairs right now and torture me just like in the past. My palms began to sweat as I heard footsteps come up the staircase. It couldn't be mum because she's gone on a business trip. Oh god. If only Harry were here to help me. I quickly wiped off my tear stained glasses with my hands when I saw who it was. Harry.

Harry's POV:

"Boo!" I yelled this loudly as I scared the literal shit out of my brother. I was cracking up, until I saw his face. He was not laughing. In fact, his lip was quivering. His hands were shaking as he held his glasses and tried to wipe them off quickly, probably because he didn't want me to see he was crying. And just then, I remembered something. I remember that day, here in Marcel's room, when I walked over to him and smashed his picture of him and I and told him to stop crying like a little Pussy boy. And then... I spanked him. I fucking spanked him. And he just took it, and didn't say a word the whole time. What the fuck is wrong with me?

I was snapped out of my thoughts when I heard another sniffle come from the bed. I slowly walked over to him. "Marc? What's wrong baby?" I said quietly and calmingly. As I sat on the edge of the bed, he began to explain.
"I- I thought that-that y-you w-were L-Louis." At this, my heart shattered. Louis. Why, why was Louis such an ignorant asshole and why was my brother so deathly afraid of him? It has gotten to the point where he can't even shake the thought of Louis out of his head. He's so terrified he can't even calm himself down.

I looked away from my pathetic brother and instead looked down at the ground, sighing, thinking. Finally, I thought of something to say to make him feel better, less afraid, more comfortable, with me.

"Marc, listen. I know how scared you are. I know Louis is a mean, intimidating, bad person and I know that frightens you and I know you are looking to me for help. And I'll do it, I'll be it for you I'll be Louis's punching bag until he realizes what he's doing is wrong. I'll stand there and I'll take the punches to the face and gut. I'll take the rude comments and laughter in public. I'll take it all, for you. Because I love you. But baby, Louis isn't here he's not even close to here and I'll never let him walk through those doors. Do you understand me?" I said this firmly, manly, in a masculine tone. Marcel is submissive, he loves to be used. He loves to be told what to do. So when it comes to Marcel, I'm extremely demanding. That's the only way to get a guy like him to listen to a guy like me.

After listening to me and thinking about what I said, Marcel nodded slowly and seductively while looking at me straight in the eyes. And just as I went to walk out the door into my room and change out of my work clothes, I hear something come out of Marcel's mouth that I never thought I'd hear from him.

"Yes, daddy."

And at that very moment, there was no sound. not a Cricket, not a floor board creak, not the wind flowing outside. Nothing.

I slowly backed up toward the bed and turned around, and Marcel's face was only a few inches away from mine. My hormones got the best of me. He was breathing heavily, looking straight into my eyes. His were soft and gentle, in need of love. Mine were probably hard and mysterious, in need of touch. I grabbed Marcel's cheeks and held them close to my mouth. And through gritted teeth I said, "don't you fucking tease me like that Marcel. You're such a good boy. You're such a good fucking boy I just want to shove that pretty little innocent face of yours on my massive cock." I smirked at this when I saw Marcel's face. His cheeks red and puffy and sweat dripping down the side of it. His glasses were foggy and his hair was a mess. He was a wreck, just like I liked him. Marcel began to suck on my finger seductively and slowly, never leaving eye contact with me. "Oh you mother fucker, daddy's gonna treat you like the naughty little boy you are." I said this in between my moans of complete fucking pleasure from feeling Marcel's wet, sweet sweet tongue sliding up and down my finger. And I could only imagine that sweet, sweet tongue sliding up and down my cock. And from there, everything was a blur. A full night of sex while mom was gone. And that, was exactly what we had needed.
It's what Marcel needed. To release some stress.