OwenM

Memory of Alex

Chapter 1

I filled ten of them.

It's not that my dream died, it's just that my life changed. Life has a way of doing that, changing in the ways that you least expect it at the times that you never see it coming. I guess afterwards you can look back and imagine that all the signs were there if you could only have seen them. I've been doing that a lot these days.

Some people might think that I never sat down and started page 11 because I didn't have much of a story to tell. That's what I used to tell people, that I wanted to be a writer but I was just waiting for the right story to come along. The truth of the matter is that I've had a story to tell, a good one, and I've had one ever since I put my pencil down mid-sentence on that June day so long ago.

I just didn't think anyone wanted to hear it. But then, in one of those strange twists of fate, I should come across this site. I don't even remember exactly how I stumbled in here in the first place, but as I read story after story after story, the only thing I could think was if I had actually found a group of people that might want to hear my story. It took me a few months to work up the courage to do this, and if somehow you are reading this you know that I managed to push that send button.

I don't know why I'm so nervous. I am completely convinced that not a single one of you is going to believe a word of this. Heck, if I read this story, I'd have a hard time believing it. So what would be the point of me trying to insist that everything you're about to read is completely true? Believe what you like, my goal is not to convince all of you that there is a truth out there that you might only have dared to hope existed.

Get to the story, you say?

Then let's go back thirty years or so, to a June day when my life changed forever.

I hated it here. It was too hot and way too sticky, and we didn't have any air conditioning. There were too many bugs, and not just the little gnats and mosquitoes and fireflies that I was used to when we lived in Massachusetts. These were big bugs, the kind that made me shiver. I never was the kind of kid that liked bugs. Florida sucks.

I knew early in the morning that this day was going to be a real scorcher, because when I woke up at the ungodly hour of six, the sheets were clinging to my body as though I had crawled into bed after forgetting to dry myself off from swimming. Six would have been normal if it were a school day, but school was over for the summer, and it was my god given right as a ten year old boy to sleep for as long as I felt like it. Trouble was, it was so hot that I didn't feel like it anymore.

I sat up in bed, peeling the sheets away from my skin, noticing only then that somehow I had shed my pajamas during the night and had nothing left on except my underwear. They were tangled up with the blanket on the floor. I was about to put them on and then decided they weren't worth it, it was too hot to get dressed anyway. I picked my glasses up from the nightstand and scanned the floor. Had to check for bugs, they had a way of crawling up through the floorboards especially at night. I saw a beetle so big three weeks ago that I screamed until my father came into the room and smashed it with a broom. It was yellow inside.

It seemed safe enough, so I got out of bed and walked quietly across the bare wooden floor, watching out for the places where I knew the floor squeaked. Back in Massachusetts we had a house big enough that Alex had his own room, but that had changed when we moved. I could tell that Alex was still sleeping because he was snoring just a little bit, which was kind of funny but I kept myself from laughing. He had kicked off his blanket too and was laying all spread out on his bed just wearing his underpants too. But that was normal for him, he didn't wear pajamas any more. He told me he was too old for them now that he was twelve. Alex didn't like sharing a room with me, but I didn't mind.

I managed to get out of the room without waking him up. Except for those sounds that insects make when its hot out, the way that you hear a low buzz that gets louder for a few seconds and then fades away, the house was silent. Dad was already gone at work and wouldn't be back until late. I was glad that he decided we didn't need babysitters anymore now that Alex was twelve, since it meant that we could pretty much do what we wanted. I pushed the door to the one bathroom in the house open and barely had my underwear down before I couldn't hold it back anymore.

I didn't like the bathroom here. It was nothing like our bathroom back in Massachusetts. That house had three bathrooms and they were all nice and clean. This one was kind of dirty, no matter how much you tried to clean it. Dad tried to make it look nicer when I wouldn't take a shower at first, and he sat there for hours scrubbing the tile and the tub, but it didn't make a difference, it still looked dirty. I took a shower anyway because I felt bad that he tried so hard.

I don't know how long I stood there before I heard a shout and a crash from the bedroom. I pulled my underwear up as I ran to find out what happened. Alex was sitting up in bed, wide eyed.

"One of those fucking bugs just ran right over me!"

I recoiled, checking the floor in front of me, but I didn't see it. I looked back up at him, he was all wide-eyed and scared. He looked at me and his face quickly melted into a scowl.

"What're you looking at?"

"Nothing," I said, backing up a couple of steps, a little smile creeping across my face as thoughts of sweet justice filled my head. "I thought there was a girl here."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know, I heard a scream and it sounded like a girl."

His eyes narrowed. "You are so fucking dead, Jakey." He curled up like a cat about to pounce, and I made a mad dash from the room, with him in sudden pursuit. I giggled as he chased me around the house, over and over again since it didn't take long to run the whole way around, yelling about how dead I was going to be. He eventually caught up to me when I tripped trying to go around the kitchen table, pinning me down to the linoleum floor on my stomach and sitting on my lower back. I didn't mind, the linoleum felt good because it was a little cool and I was really sweaty from running.

"Now you're gonna get it," he said as he grabbed the waistband of my underwear.

"Nooo, not that!"

I didn't really expect that he wouldn't do it. He yanked, hard, driving them up the crack of my ass and crushing my balls to my front. I howled, not because it really hurt that bad, but because it was fun to howl when we played like this. He rolled off of me.

"I'd kick your ass if it wasn't so hot." He laid down on the linoleum next to me for a few minutes while we cooled off.

"You want a pop-tart?" he asked. I nodded. He lifted himself up and went over to the cabinet to take them out. I watched him go. For as much as he kept telling me that I was going to die and that he was going to kick my ass, I knew he never really meant it. I mean, he was my big brother and all, so I looked up to him in all the ways that little brothers usually do. But I think it was something more. As I watched him get the pop-tarts out, I remembered the time when I was eight, when a group of kids decided that I would be good to beat up on. He came over, but instead of just saying he was going to kick their asses like he always did with me, he really did. He got in a lot of trouble for it too, but he told me that night that no one picks on his little brother.

"Here, puke-face," he said, throwing the package over to me. I ate it sitting on the floor while he sat at the table. "Whatcha want to do today?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. It's too hot to go outside."

"Yeah," he answered. "I'm gonna watch TV." It was weird, the way he told me like that before he left the room, almost as if he wanted me to come with him. I didn't much feel like watching TV though, I wanted to work on my story. I finished my pop-tart and went back to our room, taking out the stack of paper from the bottom drawer of the desk, squaring it neatly and picking out a sharp pencil.

I stared at the paper without writing anything for what seemed like hours. I knew the word, they called it writer's block. I had written ten pages about this spaceship and the people that were on it that were going to some mysterious part of the galaxy to get something. I just couldn't figure out what they were trying to get and why they wanted to go there, and I couldn't think of anything else to write about. I tried a couple of things but erased them after just a few words. I erased so hard on the last one that I tore a hole in the paper and had to re-write the whole page over again.

"Can I read it yet?"

I hadn't even heard Alex come in, I was too busy copying.

"No."

"Come on, I won't laugh or anything, I promise."

"I just wanna finish the first chapter, that's all."

"Yeah," he said. He laid down on his back with his hands folded under his head and stared silently at the ceiling. I finished my copying, both of us not saying a word. I was in the middle of actually writing a new sentence when he spoke.

"I'm bored. Let's do something."

"I'm writing," I answered.

He didn't say anything for a moment. "I got an idea of something to do."

"I said I'm writing," I growled.

"We can do this for just a little bit and then you can go back to writing if you want," he offered.

"I wanna finish this."

Then he said something really weird. It was in a very different voice than he usually used, very serious, like the one when he told me that no one picks on his little brother.

"Please, Jake."

I put down my pencil and looked back at him a little annoyed. "What do you want to do?"

He kept staring at the ceiling. "Never mind," he said quietly.

I groaned. "C'mon, you made me stop already."

"Well, I just 3;" he trailed off, and then took a deep breath. "I thought we might just do a game, like one where, ummm, you tie me up." He looked over at me. "You know, to see if I can get out of it."

I made a face. "You want me to tie you up?"

"No, well, just to see if I can get out of it, you know? Like Houdini."

"They used chains and stuff for him."

"I was just thinking, that's all."

I put my pencil down on the stack of paper, shrugging. "If you want, I guess."

"Ok," he said, sitting up. "But I gotta show you how to do it right."

"I know how," I said boastfully. He didn't answer, grabbing his boots from the closet and pulling out the laces. I watched him curiously as he threw them on the bed and then grabbed a few of his dirty sweat socks from the floor and threw them on the bed too. He sat down again, taking two the socks and tying the toe ends together in a knot.

"Come here," he said. Curious, I got up from the chair and sat down on the bed next to him.

"Ok, here's how you do it right," he said, picking up one of the shoelaces. "First, you tie my hands behind my back, but you gotta do it a special way." He picked up my hands and placed them together in front of me. "You tie a knot around them first like this," he said, demonstrating but leaving them loose, "and then you wrap it around like a figure eight like this, then you use the rest to wrap in the middle like this." I nodded as he undid the shoelace from my wrists. "Then you do the same to my feet, but leave some extra so that you can tie my feet to my hands when I lie on my stomach." He rolled onto this stomach, bending his legs back so that his feet touched his butt. "Make sure everything is really tight, I don't want this to be too easy."

"Uh huh," I nodded, looking over at the socks. "What are those for?"

"Oh, ummm," he said looking at them. "The one tied together is so that you can gag me."

I wrinkled my nose. "Why?"

"Cause it's part of being tied up," he said, in that tone that older brothers reserve for their little brothers that don't understand the ways of the world. "Use the other one to blindfold me. Make sure you put those on tight too and knot them so that they don't come off."

"Ok," I said slowly. This was getting kind of strange. "How long do you have to get out?"

An odd look came over his face. "I dunno, just leave me until I get out."

I looked at him in surprise. "What if you can't get out, then you'd have to stay tied up all day."

"They I'd have to stay tied up all day," he repeated, almost like he was talking to myself instead of talking to me. "I'll just stay in my underwear cause its too hot to get dressed."

"Whatever," I shrugged. He rolled over onto his stomach and put his hands behind his back, his wrists crossed.

"Remember, do it nice and tight."

"Yeah, I heard you the first time." I started wrapping the shoelace around the way he told me, pulling it tight on each pass. This might actually be kind of fun, having Alex tied up, especially if I did it so that he really couldn't get out. Then I could do whatever I wanted to him and he wouldn't be able to stop me. Not that I wanted to do anything really mean, I just wanted to get even and tickle him. An evil little grin spread across my face. Or maybe give him a really big wedgie and leave him like that because all tied up he wouldn't be able to get it out. I giggled.

"What's so funny?" he asked as I cinched the shoelace tight.

"Nothing. Is that tight enough?" I watched him try to twist his wrists and then pull them through the shoelace. He didn't get anywhere.

"Yeah, that's pretty good," he said. "Now my feet." He crossed his ankles, and I used the other lace to tie them together the same way, wrapping around in figure eight's that then wrapping a little more around the middle. "Don't forget to leave the extra," he reminded me.

"I know, I know," I said, pulling the shoelace tight and knotting it off. He pulled his ankles back so that they rested close to his hands. I pulled the extra lace and tied it off to his hands. "How's that?"

He pulled his ankles back. "Too loose."

"It's good enough," I answered. "It's not like you're gonna be able to untie it or anything."

"Just make it tighter, ok?"

I rolled my eyes and untied the shoelace. For a moment, I couldn't figure out how to make sure that his ankles would be right up against his hands, and then I had the idea to lean on his legs to force them closer and keep them there while I tied them off. He grunted as I leaned on him. "You told me to make it tighter," I said as I finished and got off of him.

"Yeah, it's ok," he answered. I watched him strain a little against the laces, but again, nothing gave an inch. "Do the blindfold." He lifted his head up, his eyes closed, and I lined up the sock. In a moment, it was knotted off behind his head.

"Can you see?" I asked curiously.

"Nope," he answered. "Just a tiny little bit of light."

I picked up the other two socks that were knotted together. They were dirty and had the unmistakable musky odor of old feet. "You really want me to gag you with this? It's kinda gross."

He took a deep breath. "It's ok, just put the knot in my mouth and then tie it off really tight so that I can't spit it out." He lifted his head from the pillow again, his mouth opened wide. Up until now, I didn't feel strange about any of this, it was just a kind of game to me. When he opened up his mouth like that, it stopped feeling like just a game to me, like there was something different happening. It was just a feeling, though. He had to open his mouth even wider as I pushed the knot into his mouth. He put his head back on the pillow and I tied it off behind his head.

"Say something," I said, curious to hear what he sounded like gagged.

"Mmmffmmm," he answered. I could barely hear him.

"Cool," I said. "It really works. Try to get out." I slid off the bed and stood up, looking at my brother, that strange feeling suddenly getting stronger, taking shape and lodging itself firmly in my stomach. My idea of tickling him or leaving him with a massive wedgie didn't hold so much appeal any more. I watched him strain against the laces, trying to pull and tug, but he quit before he had tried for very long and then laid still on the bed. I felt like I should gloat or something because I had tied him up so that he couldn't get out, but that didn't feel right either.

"Can you get out?" I asked him. He shook his head no. "Then I'll untie you."

He shook his head no and grunted into the gag. I took it out anyway.

"What are you doing?" he asked, sounding a little annoyed.

"Untying you," I said.

"Don't. I wanna get out on my own."

"But you said you couldn't."

"I wanna keep trying." I didn't answer him. The feeling of strangeness was getting stronger. "Just put the gag back and let me try." He tilted his head back and opened his mouth again. I sighed and stuffed the knot back in his mouth and tied it back off, but not quite as tight as the last time.

"I'm gonna write," I said. He didn't answer, lying still on the bed, and I went back to the desk, picking up my pencil and trying to remember where I had left off. It was right in the middle of a sentence. I read the words, but couldn't remember at all what I was going to say afterward.

For five minutes I stared at the paper and then groaned in frustration, turning around to look at Alex. He was moving around a little, I could see him trying to find the knot with his fingers. I smiled, because the knot was on the other side of his hands where he couldn't reach it anyway, but them the smile faded from my face again. This just seemed 3; mean, to leave him all tied up like that. I tried to imagine what it would be like, not being able to move much or see anything and having to suck on that big hunk of dirty sock. Didn't seem like much of a game to me.

I turned back to the writing, sharpening my pencil, straightening out the stack of paper, trying to go back and read the ten pages that I already knew by heart anyway. But none of it helped. More and more I found myself turning around to stare at Alex, more and more unable to turn away and go back to my story. He hadn't made any progress at all in getting out and he had been like that for over an hour.

I finally got out of my chair and stood next to him. His whole body was covered with sweat. His hands and his feet had turned a dark shade of red that sent another twinge through my stomach. Before, I hadn't thought twice about the fact that he wasn't wearing anything but his underwear. I mean, we were brothers and we shared the same room, I had seen him in his underwear or even naked a million times. But somehow, with him all tied up like that, the image of him being so exposed sent another twinge of weirdness through my stomach.

He started whimpering a little, and I snapped out of my thoughts. "Do you want me to untie you?" I said quickly, getting nervous that I had left him like that for way too long already. He didn't move for a moment, and then he started to shake his head no.

"Your hands are all red," I said to him, my voice a little shaky, "and they feel kinda cold. I'd better let you out." He kept shaking his head no and making noises into the gag, but I picked the knot loose and pulled the sock out of his mouth. He coughed a couple of times.

"Why'd you do that?" he asked, sounding angry.

I got scared. "Cause your hands are all red and everything and 3;"

"Put it back, I wanna get out on my own!"

"I don't wanna do this anymore," I said nervously, untying the blindfold. He blinked as it came away from his face, looking over at me, his eyes fiery.

"C'mon, just put them back."

I shook my head and started working picking the knots loose around his hands. All his pulling and straining had made them really tight, and it was hard to pick them apart. He let me work on them for a minute or so and then suddenly rolled on to his side away from me.

"Don't do that," I said, exasperated.

"Don't let me out," he said, not sounding angry. "I wanna get out on my own."

"You're not going to get out, its too tight." I reached over him and tried to grab at his hands, but he rolled over again so that he was lying on top of them. I pushed him in the side to try and get him to roll back over, but he wouldn't budge.

"Just 3; just a little while longer."

"Why?" I asked. He didn't answer. "Doesn't it hurt?"

"A little, but I don't care."

"This is really weird," I said. "I don't wanna do this anymore."

"Ok," he sighed. I watched him roll back over onto his stomach. With a renewed fervor I gradually worked the knots loose around his hands, unwinding the shoelace until he was able to pull his hands apart and his feet rested back on the bed. I got off the bed, backing away.

"You do the rest," I said. "I'm gonna watch TV."

He didn't answer, and I left. I turned on the TV, but the cartoons were already over for the morning, except for the little kid ones on PBS. It didn't matter, I didn't really care what I watched. I just wanted to stop thinking about how strange Alex had been acting. He came into the living room, a towel slung over his shoulder.

"I'm gonna take a shower," he announced. I shrugged.

The water was on for a long time.

Chapter 2

"Did you get mushrooms? I wanted mushrooms," I whined as I slid into a chair at the table.

"Just plain," Dad said sympathetically. I pouted, but the smell of pizza was enough to clear my mood quickly. Alex threw the box open, a cloud of steam rising to the ceiling, and deftly dealt three pieces onto paper plates, pushing one in my direction. I grabbed it and began to wolf it down ravenously.

"It's not like pizza from home, but it's ok," commented Alex between bites.

"I'm glad you approve." Dad pushed his plate away and leaned back in his chair.

"Aren't you going to eat?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No, I already ate," he said quickly. "The pizza is for you boys, eat up." Looking at his watch, he stood up. "I've got to be going."

"When are you going to be home?" Alex asked.

"I get off at six, but I probably won't get home until seven thirty or so with the bus schedule."

"You have to work all night again?" Alex sounded a little worried, and I looked over to him, wondering if I should be worried too.

Dad tousled his hair. "They pay good money for graveyard at the hospital," he answered. "A few more nights like this and we might be able to think about getting a car again." I smiled at the thought of having a car, taking the bus everywhere was such a pain.

"I think I could get a paper route," Alex said. "Jimmy said that he makes almost ten dollars a week."

Dad sighed. "Can we talk about this when I get home in the morning?" Alex didn't answer. "I've gotta go, boys, see you later." I stood up from my chair to give him a hug, which he returned warmly, ruffling through my hair just as he had done with Alex a moment earlier. Alex didn't get up, though. He was too big for hugs, but I didn't feel too big for hugs. He didn't even say good bye like I did as Dad left the room, the front door closing softly behind him.

I grabbed another piece of pizza and wolfed it down as fast as I could. Alex pushed his chair from the table, muttering something I couldn't hear, and headed for the living room. A half-eaten piece was still on his plate. I stopped chewing myself, wondering why Alex didn't want to have pizza. I mean, it wasn't like it was bad pizza or anything. I got up from my chair and padded softly over to the entry to the living room. Alex was sitting on the couch, his knees pulled up to his chest, his head bent down.

"Don't you want pizza?" I asked him.

He looked up, his face streaked with tears, his eyes furious. "Get the fuck out of here!" I took a step backward but stayed, petrified, until a pillow from the couch sailed through the air and connected with my face. "Leave!"

I turned and sat back down at the table, feeling like I wanted to cry myself but not knowing why. The pizza still sat mostly uneaten on the table in front of me, but I didn't feel really hungry any more either. I picked at the cheese absent-mindedly, remembering how we used to get pizza every Friday night. Back when we were in our real house, not this dump. Back when Mom was still around. My job was to hold the pizza on my lap when we went out and picked it up. She even let me pick some of the mushrooms off and eat them before we got home. It was like a secret, but I think Dad always knew.

But Dad kept on saying we can't live in the past, that we had to think about the future. I didn't know if that meant if we weren't even supposed to remember how things used to be, but I didn't think it would be all that bad to keep on trying to remember what things had been like. Like where my bed was in my old room, or what Mom used to smell like when she used to go out with Dad on Saturday nights and leave us with the babysitter. I looked up and stared at a dirty spot on the wall. I couldn't remember the babysitter's name anymore. Somehow, that seemed important, to remember her name. I began to get angry, and pushed my chair away from the table, kicking my foot hard and accomplishing nothing.

The TV came on in the living room, so I got up and stood in the doorway. Alex was just sitting back down on the couch, gathering his legs and hunching over the same way I found him before. I shuffled my feet and coughed. "Are you still mad at me?"

"I'm not mad at you," he said sullenly. He didn't explain any further.

"Can I watch TV too?"

"Whatever," he said, barely loud enough for me to hear him. I went and sat down in the chair, not wanting to share the couch with him right now. He didn't seem to notice I was there.

I missed my big brother. I mean, he was still there, but it was like he had been beamed away or something and replaced by some kind of mutant big brother. Mom always said that Alex had a smile permanently plastered on his face. He had never seemed to get sad or angry, and even though he sometimes teased me and called me a pain he never did it that much. He made me laugh every time I was crying just by making my stuffed bears do suicide jumps off the banister. I smiled a little, remembering how he would make the grossest noises when they hit the floor.

Now, well, things were different. More like he was now. Dad said it was just that he was becoming a teenager, but I thought it was more than that. And then there was the other thing, the thing that even though I had tried not to think about for the last four days, it kept creeping back into my head. I just couldn't understand it, and it played over and over again in my head. I mean, there was no way he could have gotten out, and he wasn't really trying to get out after a few minutes, so why did he keep on telling me that he wanted me to leave him? There was only one explanation I could think of, that he actually wanted to be tied up. That just didn't make any sense, why would he want to be like that?

Even though I just didn't get it, a thought had been nagging at me all day. Twice already I had thought about saying something and chickened out. But looking at Alex, his eyes still red from crying, my resolve hardened. It was only fair, after all, for me to do something nice for him, after all the nice things he had done for me. Even if it didn't seem nice.

"Wanna do something?" I asked.

"No," he said pointedly.

I took a deep breath, my face turning red. "I could tie you up if you wanted." His head whipped around, his eyes suddenly wide and boring into me, not saying anything. I fumbled for the words. "I mean, ummm, if you 3; wanted to."

His eyes suddenly narrowed. "Why do you think I want to be tied up?"

I shrugged. "I dunno, I just thought." I looked at the floor. "Or we could do something else."

The room fell completely silent, but I was shouting inside my head. Stupid, I thought. I was right, why would he actually want to be tied up? Now he's even madder at me than before. I could feel his eyes drilling a hole right in the top of my head. It seemed ages before he spoke, and when he did his words were slow and kind of careful.

"I wanted another chance to get out."

I looked up. "So you want to?"

He smiled and nodded, standing up and walking to the bedroom. I followed him, a grin on my face too. I was just happy that I could do something nice for him. He sat down on his bed, taking the boot laces out from under the bed that he had never put back into his boots and the socks we had used from last time. He had never even untied the two that we used as the gag. I wrinkled my nose. He just sat there for a moment, looking down.

"Same way as last time?" I asked. He nodded, getting awkwardly to his feet. I watched, surprised, as he pulled his t-shirt over his head and shed his shorts, standing in his underwear. "Why are you taking off your clothes?"

"Cause it's more comfortable," he answered quickly, lying back down on the bed on his stomach, crossing his hands behind his back. Not waiting to see if he would change his mind, I sat down on the bed beside him, picking up the bootlace and wrapping it around his wrists the same way I had done the last time. I could hear him breathing, loud and fast.

"Make sure it's really tight," he said between breaths.

"But last time it made your hands all red and cold," I answered. "I should leave it a little looser."

"No, that doesn't matter. Just make sure it's hard for me to get out." I nodded and pulled the laces tighter on his wrists, knotting them off four times before turning my attention to his bare feet. Without me asking, he crossed them as well, and I wound the lace around his ankles, pulling the cord so tight that I heard him gasp a little.

"Sorry," I said quickly.

"It's ok," he answered. "Just make it really tight." I finished tying off his feet, leaning against his legs like he showed me to force his feet in close to his hands, then tying the remainder of the cord around his hands. I pulled away when it was all done.

"Is that tight enough?" I asked.

He pulled a little bit. "Yeah, that's pretty good." I picked up the sock to tie around his eyes, but he shook his head. "Wait a second, I've got an idea." I paused. "What if I had a good reason to get out, like if I couldn't get out then something would happen."

"Like what?"

"I dunno, something that I wouldn't want." He didn't speak for a moment. "Like getting tied up all night."

"All night? How could you sleep like that?"

"We could do it a different way so that I could sleep. C'mon, it would give me a reason to try harder. So let's say that if I don't get out in an hour, then I have to be tied up all night."

I thought about what he was saying. Why did he say that being tied up would be something that he didn't want? I mean, I was completely sure that he wanted to be tied up, and it seemed the tighter he was tied up the better. So then he probably would want to be tied up all night. I shrugged. "If you want."

He nodded his head slowly, and I shrugged. I tied the sock over his eyes, knotting it tightly in back of his head. "Open up," I ordered, and as he did I pushed the knot of the other two socks deep into his mouth and tied it securely behind his head as well. He mumbled something that I couldn't understand, but I ignored him. With a grin on my face, I traced a fingernail down the sole of his foot. He rolled over onto his side, his protests muffled. I giggled.

"I could do whatever I wanted to you," I teased him. He laid there completely still. I wasn't really going to do anything to him, I just wanted to scare him a little. After a minute, I left him alone on the bed and went to watch TV, noting that the time was just after 7:00.

The problem was, I couldn't concentrate on the TV. At first, I got up to check on him after five minutes, padding quietly across the room to stand in the doorway, silently, watching him. By the way he was struggling around, he was really trying to get out. I grinned to myself, because I knew there was no way he could. I had knotted everything really well and made sure that the knots were on the other side of his fingers so that he couldn't reach them. He couldn't even find the knots on the lace on his feet to try and let them out. Satisfied, I sat back down, but it was only a couple of minutes later before I was standing back in the doorway, watching him.

I didn't really know what was so fascinating about it, watching my mostly naked brother writhe around on his bed. Before long, I went to sit down on my bed, unable to take my eyes away from the scene in front of me. His body was covered with a sheen of sweat from the exertion he was going through. Beads of sweat were running down his forehead but they got mopped up by the blindfold. With all the struggling, his underwear had been pulled down a little, showing just the top of his butt-crack. He eventually stopped wriggling around, laying still and moving nothing but his fingers and toes. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, and then he started to whimper a little bit.

I figured that was my cue. I got up and sat down on the bed next to him. "Do you want me to let you out?" I looked over at the clock. "It's only been 35 minutes. If I let you out now you lose."

He shook his head no. As I watched, a mosquito landed on his arm. I didn't do anything, and by the way he reacted I could tell that it had bit him. I guessed that was part of being tied up, if a mosquito bit you there was nothing you could really do about it, except that Alex rolled over onto his side and crushed it on the bed. He turned back onto his stomach, and I saw that his underwear had been pulled down a little more. It was kind of embarrassing to see his butt like that, almost as embarrassing as when I actually took it and pulled it back up for him. He grunted something into the gag.

"Sorry, they were kind of coming off," I said, getting back off the bed. "22 minutes left." I went back to my perch on my bed, lying on my stomach propping my head up on my elbows, my feet in the air, my eyes glued to him. The last twenty minutes went by very quickly, and before I knew it the clock had made a full circle around. I went back and sat down on the bed beside him.

"One minute left," I said to him. Even though he had pretty much been still, he started to struggle again really hard, but there was no way. The seconds ticked off, and I watched the clock change from 8:05 to 8:06. "Time's up," I said, reaching behind his head and undoing the knot that held the gag in place. He spit it out as soon as it came loose, coughing a little.

"That wasn't really a whole hour!" he said.

"It was a whole hour!" I retorted, untying the blindfold. He blinked as it came away from his eyes. "See, it's after eight already. So you lost."

"Shit," he said. "Let me out, I gotta go to the bathroom."

"Eww," I said. "Don't pee in the bed." I started to pick apart the knot that held his feet to his hands. All of the knots had gotten even tighter from him pulling on them, so it took a little while to get them all untied. He started to wriggle a little bit, and I knew he had to go badly. "I'm going as fast as I can." When his hands finally came loose, he pulled them out of the laces and jumped off the bed to go take his piss. It came out so hard I could hear it hitting the water even from the bedroom, and I couldn't help but giggle. He came back into the room when he was finished, a sheepish look on his face.

"You're really good at tying up," he said, putting his arm around my shoulder as he sat back down on the bed. "I didn't think you would be so good at it."

"It's not like I figured it out on my own, you showed me how." I looked over at him curiously. "Who showed you how to do it?"

"Ummm, Davey and Tim and some of the other kids 3; from scouts," he stammered. "It was how we practiced tying knots sometimes." His face looked a little red. "I guess I have to get tied up now."

"If you don't want to 3;"

"It's ok," he interrupted. I knew that he would. He took a deep breath, and then got up off the bed. I watched him go over to his closet and take the shoelaces out of his sneakers, bringing them back to the bed.

"What are those for?"

"We need four," he said, without any further explanation. One by one he tied one end of the sneaker laces and the boot laces to the feet of the bed, leaving the other end on the bed. When he finished, he looked at me expectantly.

"I don't get it, how am I supposed to do this?"

"See, I lay down on the bed like this," he answered, rolling onto his stomach. "Then you tie this one to my hand and this one to my other hand." He spread his arms out so that they were at each corner of the bed.

"Oh, I get it," I said. It did seem a lot more comfortable than being tied up like he was before. "What about the blindfold and the gag?"

"I have to have them both, they're part of being tied up."

"But what if you can't breathe or something and I'm sleeping?"

"I'll be able to breathe, don't worry about it," he said, sounding like an older brother again. He shuffled his feet.

"Ok, so lets start then."

"There's one more thing." His face looked like it was turning even more red than it was. "When we 3; played this game at scouts, the loser 3; the loser had to 3;"

"Had to what?"

He shook like he got the chills. "Had to get tied up with no clothes on."

"Duh, you're not wearing any clothes."

"I mean naked," he said softly.

"Naked?" I blinked. "Why?"

"Because," he answered. "It's 3; it's more like a punishment for losing that way." He stared at the wall. When he started to talk, it seemed like he was talking to someone else, not to me. "Sometimes the loser got to stay in the tent, but usually we went out into the woods where anyone who came by could find him. Sometimes the loser would get tied to a tree, hands behind the back, sometimes with hands tied above his head, sometimes lying on the ground and all stretched out. Always naked." He shivered again.

I breathed out, not even realizing I had been holding my breath. "Wow," I said. "Did you ever lose?"

He looked over at me, his eyes a little wet, but not like he was crying. "I lost a lot. Most of the time." He wiped his hand across his face. "If you don't want to, it's ok."

"It's not like its me that has to be naked," I said. I felt a little twinge in my stomach. If before, tying him up in his underwear had seemed ok if a little strange, now it felt like some kind of line was being crossed. Now it became something that we could get in trouble for, something that we shouldn't be doing, something that was somehow forbidden and naughty even if no one had ever told me not to tie my brother up naked. The thing was, the fact that we were crossing this line made me even more curious to participate rather than less. It made me want to take the chance, to try and find out the hidden things that I could sense were behind all this but just couldn't quite grasp. "C'mon," I said playfully. "Take 'em off and lay down."

A little smile spread on his face, and then he turned back over onto his stomach before pulling his underwear down and off. That disappointed me a little, because I had wanted to take a look at his front. Even though I frequently saw him naked, it was usually just a glimpse, and he was always careful to face away from me whenever he was changing or coming in from the shower. His butt just wasn't as interesting to me. After all, a butt is just a butt. Things in front, that was different.

"How am I supposed to do this?" I asked him, my eyes still fixed on his bare rear. He scooched down until his feet were hanging off the bottom of the bed.

"Just tie the ropes around each foot. Make sure that the rope is really tight to the bed so that I can't move my foot too much." I got off the bed and stared at his foot, wondering how I could make it really tight. The idea came to me, much the same way as I had done when I leaned on his feet to make them go closer to his hands. I pushed down on his foot and then wrapped the lace around really tight. He grunted a little, but was otherwise silent.

"Ok, try that."

He pulled at his foot, but it didn't move at all. "Damn, you're really good at this," he said, a hint of admiration in his voice." I smiled and did the same thing to his other foot, making sure it was hanging off the bed the same way and pulled to the other corner. His legs were spread a little apart, and when my eyes wandered back to his butt I could see just a little bit of his other parts sticking out underneath the bed. Fascinated and embarrassed at the same time, I pulled my eyes away and went to the other side of the bed. I didn't need to ask him, I just grabbed his hand and pulled it out straight until it was stretched out as far as it could go, not quite hanging over the bed like his feet were. Quickly, I tied the rope tightly around his wrist, making sure to keep everything taut. He didn't say a word, and I did the same to the other wrist, making sure again that the knots were all behind his hands where he couldn't reach them.

When I was done, I stood up next to the bed, my mouth hanging just a little open at the sight in front of me. My brother, all stretched out on his bed, arms and legs spread apart, completely naked. He struggled gently. "Wow, this is really tight," he said softly, and then his tone changed a little, sounding a little hesitant. "Are you going to gag and blindfold me?"

As an answer, I sat down straddling his bare back, picking up the sock that we used to cover his eyes. He obediently lifted his head up and I tied the sock off behind his head. Without missing a beat, I picked up the gag sock, the knot all wet with his spit. Just as I was about to put it in, he turned his head away. "Jake?" he said, his voice even more shaky.

"What?" I said, annoyed that he had kept me from finishing.

"Just 3; keep an eye on me, ok? Make sure that nothing happens."

I rolled my eyes. "Like what?" I didn't wait for his answer, I just reached around and shoved the sock into his mouth. He tried to spit it out at first, but I held it tightly and had it knotted off before he could do anything. He was trying to say something, but I couldn't understand a word he said. I got off his back and stood at the side of the bed. "I'm not letting you out until morning, ok? I'm gonna set the alarm to go off before Dad gets home." He pulled at his bindings, hard, and I smiled. He wasn't going anywhere. For some reason, an idea struck me, and before I could think I acted, slapping his butt hard with my hand. He shouted in the gag, which hardly made any noise at all. "Have fun," I said, leaning in to speak right in his ear, and then I turned and left the room as he kept shouting and pulling at the ropes that held him down, going back to the television.

By the time I was done with TV and getting sleepy, he was lying still on the bed. I watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he slept quietly. I turned off the light and climbed into bed, falling asleep to the sight of the moonlight coming in through the cracks in the blinds, reflecting off his bare skin.

At some point, I woke up in the middle of the night. Groggily, I looked over toward Alex, who was still securely tied to the bed. He was making noises into his gag, soft grunting noises, which wasn't loud enough to have woken me up, but the creaking of his bed had been. It's not that he was trying to get out or anything, but he was moving around a lot, his lower body sliding back and forth on the sheets. I stared at him, wondering if he had to pee or something, but then he arched his back strangely, moaning a little louder into his gag and staying there for a few seconds before collapsing back into the bed and lying still again. I figured since he didn't keep moving he was fine, and turned over, drifting back off to sleep.

Chapter 3

I left the spider alone anyway.

I was glad I set the music instead of the alarm. The music was nicer than that blaring beeping that we used to make sure I would get up on time in the morning. I used to never get up when the alarm would ring, especially when it was a school day. I would just keep on slapping it over and over again until finally dad would have to come in and make me get up. Now, things were different. Now it was important that I woke up in the morning, because if I didn't 3; I shuddered. I didn't want to even think about what would happen if I slept in.

Dad had gotten the job at the hospital working overnights six days a week. If you combined that with his regular job during the day it seemed like he was working every single hour of the day. He would come home in the morning for a couple of hours before going to his day job and wouldn't come home until the next morning. On Thursdays, when he didn't have to work at the hospital, all he did pretty much was sleep. I guess the good thing was that we were going to be able to get a car pretty soon.

Not having Dad around meant that we free to do pretty much whatever we wanted. I had thought having all that freedom would be good too, but it got pretty boring after only a couple of days. Well, at least it got boring for me. Alex always had something to keep him busy. I grinned thinly at my little joke. He was anything but busy these days. In fact, for the last couple of weeks since this new schedule had started for Dad, he pretty much hadn't done anything at all.

That was because he was tied up virtually all the time.

Even if I didn't understand it at all, I had begun to at least accept that Alex really, really liked being tied up. After that first time when I had tied him to the bed all night, it was all he could think about doing. Even though he complained about being all stiff and sore after that first night, we still went through the same ritual the next night, and the night after that, and the night after that. I wasn't quite sure exactly when, but at some point the beginning part of tying him in a hogtie (he had taught me that word) so that he could try and get out just stopped and I would simply tie him to the bed for the night.

It wasn't just at night, either. It was like he just couldn't get enough of it. The moment that Dad walked out the door, he would be standing in the living room with the ropes in his hand, not a stitch of clothing covering his body. I was more used to seeing Alex naked than Alex with clothes these days, and if at one point I had been intrigued by seeing all his private areas in front, now it was just old news. Even my fascination with how he always seemed to have a boner for some incomprehensible reason whenever I was tying him up had died off. It was the same for him, too. He used to be kind of embarrassed for me to see his front, but now I think he didn't care anymore.

He seemed to have all these different ideas of ways to be tied up that I never would have dreamed existed. Every day, it was something new. Yesterday, he spent the whole day tied up in a kitchen chair off in a corner of the living room, his arms wrapped around the high sides and then tied together in the back. To make sure that he couldn't stand up, he had me tie a rope around the rungs on the bottom of the chair. Each foot was tied to one side and a rope wrapped around his stomach, just in case he tried to move a little. The day before that, he had me tie him bent over the kitchen table, his feet tied off on the bottom and his hands tied off to the legs on the other side, his butt sticking up in the air. I had thought that was funny.

I guess I had reached a kind of balance, like a see-saw with people on it that weighed exactly the same. The whole thing still made me feel really strange inside. I knew I was hurting him when I tied him up, not just because he complained afterward but because he would make all those funny whimpering noises all during it. He would usually act all scared too, just before I would put the gag in his mouth. If I stayed to watch and listen for too long, I would start to feel bad for him, so I usually left him alone pretty quickly and tried not to think about it. Hurting my big brother just felt wrong.

But at the same time, I could tell for absolute sure that Alex was really happy, and it was obvious that it was because I was tying him up. I guess that was a part of the reason why I was doing it, because he really seemed to love it. The strange part was that even though it hurt him, I knew that he wanted it to hurt, at least a little bit. I knew he liked it when I made it so tight that he couldn't move an inch, when I shoved the gag in his mouth as hard as I could. But that wasn't the only reason, even if it was the only reason that I would admit openly to myself. I didn't think about the little tingly feeling in my stomach when I would tie him or when I would stand and stare at him without him knowing I was doing it. That little hint of electricity, of excitement, that curled around the edge of my brain. I quickly put it from my head.

The clock read twelve minutes past five. I was supposed to go and get Alex at five, but it wasn't like he knew what time it was. I sighed, knowing that I couldn't leave him in there forever. Besides, he had promised to make me bacon and eggs for dinner tonight, and I was getting pretty hungry. Slapping the alarm clock into silence, I rolled off the bed and went out into the living room.

I took a deep breath as my hand wrapped around the knob of the coat closet door, yanking it open. There were no coats in there, they were all piled up on the couch. Just Alex, naked as always, tied as he had carefully instructed me this morning. He was kneeling, facing the back, his arms stretched out straight above his head. He had drilled two holes up near the closet bar on each side and put eye bolts in that I could use to tie the ropes so his arms stayed apart from each other. He couldn't stand up either because of the rope that was tied around his waist and to his bound feet, keeping him stuck in that uncomfortable kneeling position. By the look of him, all slumped over and moaning, it was really uncomfortable. That was not to mention that he was covered with sweat, and even in the stifling heat in the living room I could feel the blast of hot air when I opened the door.

He started moaning loudly the moment I opened the door. I quickly undid the knot of the gag and pulled it out of his mouth. "This really hurts," he said hoarsely, coughing a couple of times.

"It's supposed to," I said flippantly. "You told me it would." I started to untie the blindfold.

"I didn't think it would hurt this much," he said softly. "My arms are killing me, can you let them down first?"

I sighed, leaving his blindfold and picking at the knots that held his right hand. It was all red and cold, like his hands usually were when I was untying him. He stayed silent as I undid the rope, finally pulling it away from his wrist and letting go of his hand. His arm fell to his side. "Fuck!" he yelled, and then hissed loudly.

I became a little frightened that maybe I really shouldn't have left him in there all day like that. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, it'll be ok," he said, grimacing. I undid the rope holding his other hand as fast I could, and he hissed again through clenched teeth as the other arm fell to his side. I had the ropes around his ankles and his waist off in no time and pulled the blindfold from his eyes. He blinked, as usual, and sat back on his butt, slowly straightening out his legs.

"Next time I want you to do that, remind me how much it hurts," he groaned, scooting backward out of the closet and laying down on his back.

"I don't think we should do that again," I said, shuffling my feet.

"Not for that long," he added, nodding his head. "Maybe for a shorter time." I shrugged. "Man, I've gotta take a whiz something fierce."

I giggled. "So go," I said.

"I can't move yet," he said, bending his arms and hissing in pain. I sat down next to him and waited for a few moments while he just laid there like a lump.

"C'mon, I'm getting hungry and you promised to make bacon and eggs tonight."

"Just give me a second, alright?" he said annoyed, stretching out his legs, saying "Ow" under his breath about ten times before he got them out straight. I sat down next to him, a little grin on my face.

"So you really can't move," I said, a little taunt in my voice.

He shook his head. "Everything hurts."

I brushed my fingertips across his bare stomach. His eyes opened wide. "Does that hurt?"

"Don't," he warned.

"Or what?" I teased, running my other hand down the sole of his foot. He yanked his foot away and groaned from the effort. "I could tickle you all I want."

"I'll make you pay," he growled.

"Yeah, when?" I tickled his stomach in earnest, and he started to thrash and giggle. "You're tied up all the time, how are you gonna get me back?"

He pushed me hard in the chest, forcing me back onto my arms. The smile was gone from his face as he rolled over and stumbled to his feet. "Shit, I'm gonna piss all over the floor," he said, his hand clutching at his dick. I stared at him before bursting into laughter, the sight of him staggering across the floor making my sides split. "Shut the fuck up!" he yelled as he forced the bathroom door open, not even bothering to close it behind him. The groan of relief he let out made me roll onto my back, laughing so hard that it didn't even make a sound, that I couldn't even breathe. He peed for what seemed like forever before he came back out, his face in a snarl.

"If I could run you'd be so dead right now," he warned.

"Yeah, yeah," I said, sticking my tongue out at him. He waved his hand and went into the kitchen, not even bothering to get his clothes.

"What kind of eggs do you want?" he yelled, standing on his tiptoes to get the mixing bowl from the top cupboard.

"Scrambled," I shouted back. He didn't acknowledge. I laid on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, wiping the sweat from my brow. I looked over at the closet that had been my brother's prison for the day, the ropes dangling from the hooks, still swaying gently for some reason. It was so hot in here, how could he stand being in the closet all day like that? Curiously, I got up on my knees and made my way into the small space, just barely big enough for my feet to be inside with the door closed. I reached up for the bar, stretching my arms out the way that Alex's had been.

Suddenly self-conscious, I looked over my shoulder. Alex was busy in the kitchen, out of sight. I picked up the gag that was on the floor of the closet, feeling how wet the knot was with his spit. What would it be like to have that in my mouth? Curious, I tentatively opened my mouth and put the knot halfway in. It was so big that I had to stretch my mouth open to push it in further. I tried, my tongue getting caught and being pushed to the back of my throat causing me to choke for a second until I spit the thing out into my hand. He had that thing tied in his mouth all day long?

I glanced back again. Alex was standing at the stove, busy with the food. My stomach filled with butterflies, I got to my feet. In less than a second, my shorts and underwear, the only clothes I was wearing, were on the floor. I kicked them out the door and then pulled it shut behind me. The closet was almost completely dark, only a little sliver of light showing beneath the door. I got back down on my knees, picking up the sock gag and putting the knot back halfway in my mouth, biting down on it. I wrapped my hands in each of the ropes, not really tying them, until they were stretched out straight. I crossed my feet, just like Alex's had been tied.

And then I just stayed there. The closet became miserably hot almost immediately. I tried to imagine in my mind what it must have been like for Alex, tied up like this, not being able to see anything, not being able to talk or even move. My arms started to feel sore almost immediately.

The door behind me suddenly opened, and I whirled around, pulling my arms free from the ropes, spitting the gag out. Alex stared at me, a surprised look on his face.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing," I stammered. "I was just 3;" I trailed off, not knowing what to say.

He got a strange look on his face. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "if you ever want me to tie you up, I would."

I shook my head. "No way. I don't ever want to be tied up like you." He looked at me sideways, his eyes narrowing. "I mean, how could you stay in the closet like that all day? My knees and my arms were already starting to hurt and I was only in there for two minutes!"

"I don't know," he said quietly.

"Why do you want to do this?" I blurted out. "What, do you like getting hurt or something?"

He looked down at the floor. "I don't know that either," he mumbled, turning around and going back to the kitchen. I stared at him as he left and then pulled my underwear and shorts back on. The smell of cooking bacon filled my nose as I went into the room, slumping down in the chair. Alex poured himself a glass of milk and downed it in one breath, and then poured himself another. I looked at the half empty milk jug.

"Did you drink all that milk? It was full!"

"I'm really thirsty," he explained, not turning away from the pans. "Could you get my clothes, I got spattered with some grease." I went and got his shirt, shorts, and underwear from the floor of our room, bringing it back over to him. Without taking his eyes from the pans, he pulled them on. "Feels weird to wear clothes again," he said, more to himself than to me.

"Why?"

"I dunno, I guess because I haven't really worn anything for a whole day. I never got dressed this morning." He was silent for a moment. "I think I like being naked better."

"I don't like going around naked like that." I wrinkled my nose.

"I do," he said, dropping his shorts and underwear back to the ground. He left his shirt on, I guessed so that if any grease splattered again he wouldn't get burned. Dinner was done a few moments later, a monumental pile of eggs and bacon that he dumped onto a plate and put it on the table. "There's no cheese," he explained, handing me a fork. We didn't bother with plates, we just both ate off the same one. I wasn't really hungry, but Alex was stuffing it in as fast as he could.

"Is it good?" he asked between mouthfuls.

"Yeah," I said. "You make good breakfast for dinner."

He smiled. "Thanks."

I chewed on a piece of bacon. "Remember how we used to have breakfast for dinner? Dad would always make pancakes too."

"Yeah, I would have done that except there was no mix or syrup left."

I giggled. "And do you remember the time that we went to make breakfast for mom and dad in bed? We were making eggs and bacon and pancakes except we used the wrong kind of pan for the bacon and then it got stuck and it lit on fire and Jeremy had to find the fire extinguisher 3;" I trailed off, my mouth open and filled with half chewed egg. Alex's face turned white. "I didn't mean 3;"

"You aren't supposed to talk about him anymore," Alex muttered.

"I'm sorry, I forgot!"

"You're such a fucking stupid little kid." His face grew red again. "Stupid!" he shouted across the table, shoving his chair back so hard that it fell over backward. He stood there clutching the table for a minute, his eyes drilling silently into my head, and then turned and stormed off to the bedroom. I put down my fork, the remnants of the dinner no longer holding any appeal. I was a stupid little kid. I had promised never to mention Jeremy to Alex again, and like a stupid kid I just went and blurted it out.

Not knowing what exactly to do, I got up from the table and went quietly over to the bedroom. Alex was lying face down on the bed. I wasn't sure if he was crying or not.

"I'm sorry," I said, meaning it as completely as I had ever meant those words before.

"It's ok," he said sullenly without another word. I shifted from foot to foot, trying to think of a way to make it up to him.

"Do you want me to tie you up again?" I offered, grasping at the only thing I could think of.

He was still for a moment, and then nodded gently. While I untied the ropes in the living room and brought them back to the bedroom, he had slipped off his shirt and was lying on his back, the blanket and pillows shoved off to the floor. I tied the ropes to the feet of the bed while he laid there in silence.

"Aren't you gonna turn over?" I said, ready to start binding him. He shook his head, and I shrugged, tugging at his ankle and leaning into it to make it as tight as possible, tying it off. "This rope that you bought makes it a lot easier."

"Tighter," he said, breathless.

"I can't make it any tighter," I whined.

"Just make it as tight as you can." I untied his foot and re-tied it, leaning into it as much as I could, hard enough that he grunted as I tied it down. I did the same with this other foot, spreading his legs wider than usual over the sides of the bed instead of to the end. He didn't move, and I got up to grab his wrists and start tying those off as well.

"I want to be put in the closet again tomorrow," he said softly. "All day."

"But you said we wouldn't do it for so long. You said it hurt a lot more than you thought it would."

"I know what I said," he said, sounding a little annoyed. "I don't care, I want to be put in there and left there. I want to spend the whole day in there. The whole night too, until it's time to let me out because Dad is coming home."

"But what about 3;"

He read my mind. "No food. No water. No pee breaks. Just leave me there." I stared at him, and his voice started cracking. "I wish you we had a better place where you could just lock me up and leave me there for days, or even weeks without letting me out. I wish 3;" He trailed off. I was paralyzed.

"You're scaring me," I said, my voice shaky too. "How come you want something like that?"

"I wish someone would just come along and kidnap me, and keep me tied up all the time. I would just be locked up and I would know that I was never going to get free, ever." My hand started to shake. "C'mon, finish it up," he said harshly.

"I 3; I don't want to anymore." My voice was cracking badly now. "I don't want you to get kidnapped."

"Jake," he said, his voice softer.

I started to cry. "I already lost one big brother I don't want to lose my other one too!"

"I didn't mean 3; shit," he said, propping himself up on the bed despite his tied feet. "I'm not going to go anywhere, ok?" I shook my head. "I promise, no one is gonna kidnap me. Look, I'm sorry I called you a stupid little kid, ok? I didn't mean it. I mean 3;" He took a deep breath. "I mean that you're the best little brother I could ever have. What little brother could tie someone up as well as you can?" His voice was a little more playful, and I smiled.

"C'mon," he said, laying back down. "Just tie me up for tonight and we'll figure out what to do tomorrow, ok?" I wiped my eyes and sat back down on the bed.

"Am I really the best little brother you could ever have?"

He looked at me, as serious as I had ever seen him be. "You're 3; you're so nice to be doing this for me. I mean, no one else would ever do something like this for me. I promise," he said, his voice resolute. "I promise that one day I'm going to pay you back for all of this, that I'm going to show you 3; how much 3;" He wasn't able to finish, but I understood. I blinked, and then took his wrist in my hand and pulled his arm out straight. Setting my teeth, I yanked him hard and held him down while I tied the rope. After I was done and looked at him, I saw that he was smiling. I finished his other hand, and then tied the blindfold around his eyes. Before I was about to put the gag in, he spoke.

"Hey," he said softly. "See you in the morning."

"Yeah," I answered, pushing the sock into his mouth and tying it around his head. He laid his head back down when I was finished, and I looked at him, straining gently against the ropes like he always did when I first tied him up. He suddenly looked different to me, not the bigger, stronger brother I had always looked up to, but smaller, more frail, weaker. It scared me, as much as what he had told me scared me, and I didn't care that it was just past 6:30. I stripped off my clothes, and as naked as he was, I climbed into his bed next to him. If he had to be naked, I was going to be naked too. He mumbled something incomprehensible into his gag, but I wrapped my arms around his chest, our bare flesh pressing together. I would never let him go.

Someone was shaking me awake, but my eyes just didn't want to open. I was aware of music playing from somewhere, but I couldn't quite place it. The person shook me again, and I finally opened my eyes.

"Hey, dad," I said sleepily, rolling over onto my side, wondering what had happened to my blanket. I reached out, feeling something warm next to me and then yanking my hand back.

My eyes jerked wide open. Sunlight streamed in through the blinds. The music came from the clock radio, having gone off exactly when it was supposed to but with the music I had set on it yesterday instead of the blaring alarm that would ensure that I would wake up. I stared in horror at my brother, lying right next to me, still tied, still naked, myself as naked as he was. My stomach sank into my feet.

"Let your brother out and get dressed," he said quietly. "I think we need to have a little talk."

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