Birthday Present (mm asfr)

Copyrighted by the authors.

NOTE: This story contains themes of gay sex and mind control. If you are not of legal age, you'll have to wait to read it till your own birthday!

It was going to be Dad's birthday tomorrow, and of course Jess always remembered. Brad, however, had a mind like a sieve - by choice, of course. After all, how fucking hard was it to remember the man who gave them life on his birthday? Frankly, Jess was sick of it, and this year he intended to kill two birds with one stone.

He glanced down at his watch. 5. 4. 3. 2...The phone rang.

"Hey, Jess. Um...Y'know, you're not gonna believe this, but..."

"But you forgot Dad's birthday again."

"Hey, I meant to get something. I've just been so damn busy at work, y'know? And whenever I'm home I'm tied up with that new workout equipment. I just forgot."

"Yeah, I know how it is," Jess said calmly. He did know how it was with him - especially since he spent a bundle on the home exercise unit he was so proud of. That's where the money for Dad's present had gone - money Brad had borrowed from Jess a year ago, and never even begun to pay back.

"Do you think we could, um...share a gift for Dad again, like last year?" Brad asked in his most ingratiating tone.

And the year before, and the year before that, his brother thought. "Yes, Brad," he replied. "Not a problem. I have just the gift we can give Dad. In fact, I was thinking of you when I planned it."

"Cool!" he replied. "Jess, you rock, bro! You are so totally the man!"

"In ways you have yet to imagine," Jess muttered to himself under his breath. "I'll call you later with the details," he said out loud. "Trust me, this year is really going to be something."

As they hung up, he heard the pouty voice of some girl in the background: "Come on, Braddy, come back to bed, I'm lonesome..."

Jess leaned over to Fred, who was as usual not paying much attention - when he got absorbed in the plans for one of his inventions, he wouldn't hear a bomb go off . "It was Brad, right on cue," Jess smirked. "This time we are going to do it. I don't care anymore. He hasn't met you, so he'll never know what's going down. We are going to do it...right?"

Fred smiled, that delicious smile that made him so endearing. "Jess," he cautioned, "we are talking experimental. This shit goes wrong, and you'll be out one brother."

"Dear Freddy," Jess purred, "If this shit, as you so elegantly put it, goes right, I'll still 'out' one brother. But that's a risk I'm willing to take."

Fred's cute face looked troubled. For someone with such a brilliantly warped scientific imagination, he did have a conscience. And he didn't know Brad the way Jess did.

Fortunately, Jess knew Fred's weaknesses as well as he knew his brother's. He reached for his wallet and pulled out the photo Brad had sent him a few months ago. In it he was posing with his new workout center, grinning smugly and flexing for the camera. He was wearing nothing but Speedos, to show off how he'd been working on his build. And Jess did have to admit, he looked hot as hell. Fred had tried to hide it, but Jess knew he'd been obsessing on that photo ever since he got it...and he'd made sure to keep it around where he would keep seeing it.

"After all, think about it," he said in a low, seductive voice, as he waved the picture temptingly before his partner's face. "Just imagine Robo-Brad doing whatever you desire. A push of the control pad, and he could make every night heaven... And as you can see from the picture, Brad has been working out. Working out quite hard. As hard as your little friend in your pants, I see. And I'd be very willing to let you have him."

"But what about the gift?" Fred asked lamely, as if that was what mattered. He was staring at Brad's photo as if hypnotized.

"Freddy, Freddy, relax. Robot Brad is the gift. Dad will finally have another obedient son besides me. No more hurt feelings ever again." Fred had been with him for Dad's last birthday, and had seen the look on Dad's face when Brad never showed up. Jess saw in Fred's eyes that he was winning, and grinned. "And we can start on our road to millions..."

Freddy sat transfixed by Brad, and by Jess's soft bedroom voice - the voice he never knew how to resist.

"Amazing, isn't he?" his partner rubbed it in. "Think of it...Robo-Brad at your beck and call... and you know your morality is wasted on him. You saw Dad last year - how hurt he looked at his own party. Like a little kid waiting for a Santa that was never coming."

"Bastard," Fred muttered. "Has he always been that bad?"

Jess frowned, distracted from his sales pitch. "Believe it or not, he was the most loving little kid you could hope to imagine. He was so adorable, and so much like Mom, that we just couldn't say no to him."

For just a second a sharp memory came back to haunt him - words he'd said a thousand times as a kid: "Wanna go walk, Brad?" And his innocent little face lighting up with happiness: "Walk wif Jess!" He scowled, shaking his head to push the memory away.

"That was our big mistake," he said bitterly. "We spoiled him rotten, and twenty years later he's still spoiled rotten. That cute kid is gone; the Brad we know killed him a long time ago. Fuck him."

Fred smiled that winning smile of his again. "Yeah. Fuck him. It's sick the way he makes your Dad suffer, with the promise that this might be the year."

"It is," Jess nodded. "And you should've heard his latest pickup in the back ground. That should be you, my little mad scientist. It can be you. Just remember: Invite him to some sleazy dive bar, tell him you spoke to his brother Jess regarding a vacation resort for Dad, but you want his input setting it up. Maybe tempt him with the idea that Dad can bring along a guest - right away he'll start thinking that's going to be him. Main thing is to buy him a few drinks, 'cause he never can hold them the way he thinks he can. Two Dirty Dannys and he'll be putty in your hands. Then bring him back to the lab, and we'll get started."

An hour later, at Brad's apartment, the party was still going on. Nicole sat beside the naked hunk in bed, rolling one hand through Brad's hair and running the other across his chest. "Baby, you're good," she sighed happily.

"Shucks," remarked Brad, "I'm probably top of the line. And you'll get some more when I get back. I have to go have a meeting with some clown about Dad's vacation." He snickered. "Jess, dope that he is, is so easy to sweet-talk. I ply him with some lame story year after year, and every time he buys it. Hence the Workstation 3000 that helps me rock your tight piece o' ass, babe."

"Whatever, stud," she cooed. "Just make sure you're not gone too long. And you know, you should try being nicer to Jess and your family. He seems like such a dear."

Brad snorted. "Look, babe, less morality, more rockin'. Yeah, Jesse's a peach, an angel. But the old man is so early 2000's. It's 2010 - no one does the Hallmark family thing any more."

"Just be careful, okay?" she cautioned. "You don't want to piss your brother off and blow a good deal."

Brad laughed as he pulled on his tight muscle shirt. "Never happen!"

Brad sat in the corner of the shady bar called Dirty Danny's - shady in more ways than one - waiting for the rep to show. Nico, the waiter who had seated him, came over again, looking every bit the stallion that he was. Brad hadn't ordered yet, but Nico was carrying a drink on a tray. Brad looked at him questioningly.

"Here's a Dirty Danny for you," the dark-haired stud told him. "Compliments of a friend."

"Huh," remarked Brad, clueless as usual. "Don't really know anyone around here."

"Well, someone knows you. Relax - these bad boys will rock your world."

Brad turned that phrase over in his mind, not sure he knew what the man was getting at. But then, he seldom cared what anyone was getting at. He sipped the drink cautiously and decided he approved. Dirty Dannys were the house specialty - mojitos topped with cherry liqueur and a vodka topper, guaranteed to make every night a "Dirty Danny night".

A slim young man with a friendly face approached him, neatly dressed in a dark suit. "Mr. Thomas, I assume? I'm Frederick from Happy Time Travels."

Brad nodded to the seat across the table, not bothering to greet him. In his view, any guy in a suit was a dweeb. Taking a seat, Fred smiled politely. "Now, regarding your Dad's birthday present... I've already spoken to your Dad, of course, and your brother is footing the bill - Jesse Thomas, correct?"

"Yeah. Can we get down to business?" Brad was impatient to get home to Nicole - he needed to bonk her again and then get her out before Marcia showed up for their dinner date.

"Mmm, yes. By the way, what might you be drinking? Looks good."

"It's a ( hic)) sizzler slamme... or sumzing." Brad was slurring slightly. True to form, he couldn't hold his booze.

Fred smiled again, this time a bit slyly. "If you don't mind my saying so, you look slightly peaked, Mr. Thomas."

"Don't be zilly, I just fine (( hic))."

"Say, is that yours?" Fred pointed out the window at a pink Camaro, hoping to get Brad to turn his head.

Brad looked and frowned. "Don't be foolishish. Pink is for fags." As he turned away, Fred slipped the potion into his drink. It was a potent mind-blanker, something Fred had developed in the lab for his own private use; it had been a fun addition to some of his kinkier sex games with Jess. A few sips and Brad wouldn't even remember what he was wearing.

Sure enough, Fred had barely resumed his spiel about the imaginary resort when Brad's big dark eyes took on a glazed expression. "You okay, Mr. Thomas?" Fred asked politely.

"Okay...Mr. Thomas," Brad nodded.

Fred shook his head as if concerned. "I think we'd better get you out of here."

"Yeah, let's get out of here," Brad agreed. He woozily let Fred lead him to the door, pretty much three sheets to the wind. As Fred led him to the pink Camaro - which was actually Fred's - the mind-blanker was slowly working through Brad. Not that there was that much to blank in his case, Fred thought with a snicker. He half-shoved the stumbling hunk into the back seat.

"Hey, buddy, could yew roll the wind... " Brad trailed off; he was pretty out and unaware, slowly losing control.

Fred turned and said dismissively, "No, I won't roll the window down. And in fact, it feels quite nice. Doesn't it, Brad?"

By this point Brad was sitting tight in the seat, slightly stiff and rigid. "Y'know, it does feel quite nice... sorry to trouble you."

"No worry, Brad. Relax. We're almost at point. By the way, Brad... take your shirt off. It's quite nice."

"Yes.. My shirt off, it's so nice, it's soo nice I won't need it." Brad struggled a bit slipping the tight shirt over his head. It got caught on his ears, and for a moment he sat there with the shirt hanging over him, like a sheet on an old piece of furniture. One muscular arm was paused in an upraised position, as Brad's mind tried and failed to think what came next. Fred enjoyed the sight in his rearview mirror for a whole block, then realized people driving by might notice. "Over your head, Brad," he said firmly. Jogged back into motion, Brad finished pulling the shirt off and let his arm fall, sitting blank-faced and bare-chested as they drove on. His impressive chest rose and fell gently with his calm breathing; his wide eyes stared at nothing.

By then Fred was turning the car into the lab parking lot. It was so hard for him to keep focus with a mindless Brad sitting right behind him. He knew exactly what the hunk of his dreams was feeling right now - the warm glow of pleasure because he was feeling Aquite nice", just as Fred had told him. The readiness to let any other suggestion take hold of his blank mind until the drug wore off. Fred had happy if blurry memories of feeling the same way, the times he had purposely dosed himself and invited Jess to use him as he wanted. Jess had been shocked by the idea the first time, but he had quickly come to enjoy it; maybe that was what had given him the thought of doing something about his asshole of a brother. Or his brother's asshole, Fred thought with a smirk.

Of course, the effect of the drug was only for a short time. There were no aftereffects, no way to use it to permanently program someone as a slave. That was why Fred had started working on something that would be permanent. He frowned for just a second. Or had that been Jess's idea? No, Fred was sure it was own idea. In fact, Jess had reminded him that it was his own idea, more than once.

He finished parking the car and concentrated on the business at hand. The time had come to put his greatest invention to the test.

Jess couldn't wait - although there was just a twinge of morality pangs. Bah, he thought, it'll work itself out. Besides, we only did what he had to. Brad is long overdue to get his act cleaned up!

Jess was unaware that these pangs were Fred's gift to him, from his own mind-blanker nights - nights that Jess didn't even remember. Unlike Jess, who was getting good results by winging it, Fred had studied hypnosis in his psychology course, and had done his thesis on it. Fred's trigger was Brad's hot picture; Jess's trigger was the phrase 'Red King'. Fred enjoyed having Jess want him - and the prospect of a two-fer made life so much more pleasant...

Fred had spent the night putting the finishing touches on the microchip and the control box. Brad, already thoroughly under, would have the microchip implanted right behind his ear, in such a way that he'd never be able to remove it and would never be able to reverse the process. Fred was doing his work in the lab's guest room, so that his subject was under observation at all times. He was taking no chances on the drug wearing off; he had given Brad a fresh dose every five hours, before the effects of the last one even began to fade. He felt like a kid in a candy shop; Brad was now as completely blanked as a man could be.

Finishing a safety test of the control box's circuits, Fred looked over to where Brad lay on the bed in a trance-like state. "Morning, Brad," he said casually. "How did you sleep?"

Brad was nearly nude, with nothing on but his underpants, his hands rigidly at his sides, his hard body mannequin-stiff. He replied in a monotone, using phrases that Fred's recorded voice, on the CD player right beside him, had been repeating into his ear all night. "The brad unit regenerated. The brad unit waits to bring his programmer pleasure. How may the brad unit serve his Master?"

Just then there was a quick knock at the door. It was Jess, half-exasperated with impatience and nagging doubts. "Okay, mad scientist, the revolution is over. You two can get..." He looked at Brad and paused, once again flashing back to when they were kids. For a moment all he could hear was "walk wif Jesse"...

"Er, hurry this up, okay?" he finished, jolted.

"Jess?" Fred inquired. "You alright?"

"Yeah, peachy. Just hurry this along." He backed out of the room, staring at his glassy-eyed brother lying motionless on the bed.

Fred smiled to himself, pleased with the signs that Jess's conditioning was holding. He wanted his lover to be happy, and thanks to the relaxing music CDs Fred had given him to help him sleep - the music that was replaced by Fred's soft, droning voice partway through each disc - Jess was well on the way to being happy whenever Fred told him to. It would also be nice to bring some happiness to the old man, who had been so accepting of their relationship.

The thought that dominated his mind, though - as unaware that Jess had programmed him with it as Jess was unaware of Fred's programming - was his quality time with Brad, which was about to become a tantalizing dream come true. He didn't want Jess's pangs of conscience to get so extreme that they spoiled the mood. He decided to follow him out into the hall.

He took on a look of annoyance, pretending that he didn't know exactly what was on his lover's mind. "Jesse, must you be a complete bitch about this? Come on, we're almost there." With a soothing smile, he started to pinch Jess. "C'mon, red cheeks, where's my happy little - ".

"Bull, Fred!" Jess pushed his hand away. "Stop treating me like a baby! You don't know what you're talking about!" His face was red and twitching with anger; in fact, he seemed to be losing it. Fred stared in alarm. This was not what he'd expected at all. Jess was going beyond a healthy check on his motives, clear into becoming unglued from guilt!

Jess was babbling uncontrollably now, transferring his anger at himself to anger at his fellow schemer. "You're like some fucked-up schoolgirl, you know that? Brad this! Brad that! Sure, I programmed you to have the hots for him, but don't you think I want you to give me the love that you know I want? Don't I matter any more? Doesn't anything matter to you but this damned obsession?"

Fred was stunned - and at the same time pissed that Jess would talk so harshly to him. And what was that about 'programmed'? "Jess," he said in a calming voice, "why are we arguing? Let's just get a drink, okay? I'll make us a couple of red kings and we'll be happy."

Jess stopped as if he had been slapped. "What... what did you just say?"

"Perhaps a stiff red king," Fred repeated firmly.

All the anger suddenly drained from Jess's face, leaving it blank and expressionless. He had, in fact, lost all control of his thoughts; Fred was doing his thinking now.

"That's better," Fred sighed with relief. "You have made Master angry, Jess. You must never do that. You know you will have to make it up now."

Jess showed no reaction. He simply stood motionless like a human Ken doll. Fred took Jess's left arm and posed it in a tight flex, then held his right arm straight out. When he let go it remained frozen in mid-air. "There we go," said Fred, feeling calmer now that he was in complete control. "You're much happier this way, aren't you, hon?"

"Jess unit is happy," said the Ken doll tonelessly, but with a trace of relief.

"And you're not going to be upset or angry any more...are you?"

"Jess unit is not upset or angry," the flat voice said calmly.

"Good!" Fred leaned in and kissed Jess on the lips. "Master is sorry he upset you. When we've finished what we need to do, I'll make it all better. But you still must make it up. You will take off all your clothes, and you will join Brad and me in the lab. Do you understand?"

"Yes.... All clothes will be off. Jess unit will join Master and his other slave in the lab. I hear my Master, and I obey."

"Good boy, baby. We'll see you in the lab, then." Fred's mind was spinning; now he had both studly brothers in robotic trances! This night was going to work out even better than he planned!

The pale light of dawn was creeping in through the windows of the guest room by the time the long, long talk between Jess and Fred was finished. Fred had kept Jess in a robotic state throughout the operation on Brad; Jess's trigger was the result of a year of conditioning and would last as long as Fred needed it to, but the drug in Brad's system would wear off in a while, and he wanted everything done before then. Now, of course, it no longer mattered, and never would again.

Then they had gone to the guest room with Jess still entranced, and Fred had spent an hour carefully removing the worst of the guilt and jealousy from his lover's mind, sealing the deal with some pretty passionate loving. It was Brad he was really aching to do that with, but Brad needed to lie still while the delicate stitching of the implanted chip stabilized, so as not to start bleeding or leave a scar - no point in having a new toy if it was damaged. So Fred worked out his feelings on the next best thing, while Brad lay quietly beside them, unperturbed by the kinky scene that would have shocked the hell out of him in his old life.

By the time they were done Fred felt a renewed surge of affection for his companion; Jess looked so cute and vulnerable lying there blank-faced and blank-minded. "I want Brad more than anyone," he said softly, "but I love you. I want you both. Never forget that."

"Jess unit will not forget," said Jess, with what almost sounded like pleasure.

Fred felt something hard touching him, and saw that Jess was sporting an erection again. "And what does jess unit want?" he asked knowingly.

"Jess unit wants to be Master's toy."

Fred's jaw dropped. He hadn't expected an answer. "Do you mean that? Answer as your real self - answer as Jess, not jess unit. What would Jess say?"

On cue, Jess's eyes lit up with emotion, and his lips formed a smile. "Yeah. I want to be your wind-up toy, for real. This is so fucking hot! Why didn't you ever let me remember?"

Fred gaped, trying to take it in. Jess continued to lie there smiling, waiting for his next order; he was still a robot, just able to express himself because Fred had commanded him to. Had he always been awake and aware, somewhere inside?

Fred swallowed and said, "Cancel red king."

And that was when the real conversation began.

Later, while Jess went to pick up some breakfast for them, Fred lay on the futon, his mind dancing with ideas. "Brad dear," he said casually, "would you come over and rub my back."

"Affirmative," Brad intoned. "Brad unit desires Master to be happy. I will rub."

Fred was in heaven. The fact that Brad was now living solely for his pleasure was dizzying! There was so much he wanted to do, to try - but, of course, within reason. Those darned stitches weren't totally healed yet... And he was still trying to deal with what mind- blanked Jess had told him - and the subsequent confession that his obsession with Brad was something Jess had programmed. Fred knew he ought to be angry about that, but how could he resent something that had turned out so well? He was giddy; Brad was like winning a date with the star quarterback, Jess was sort of the added bonus of the wide receiver. How often do you get a two-fer in one life?

Even under remote control, Brad still had the power Fred had dreamed of, and the monotone was the icing on the cake. With further programming, of course, Robo-Brad would act just like a normal person when desired, enough so that no one would ever suspect. The loving emotions he showed to his Dad at tonight's party would be what he really felt, if only because he'd been told to by his programmers. He would have a whole real personality, specially crafted to fulfil Fred's desires, and he could have it switched off and go into total robot mode just as easily. The best of both worlds.

There was a knock on the door, and Jess poked his head in, a smell of take-out pancakes and bacon accompanying him. "Brad, you may stop," Fred said with some reluctance. He didn't really want to say it, but he had promised Jess that he would have some time with Brad when he got back. He was surprised that it mattered to him so much, after all the bitching he had always done about his no-good brother, but he decided it was best to let them have a few minutes. After all, Brad was pretty much not going anywhere. Rising, he took the warm take-out bag from Jess's hand and headed to the kitchen.

For quite a while Jess just sat there trying to deal; the sight of a mindless Brad was a bit too much. "Brad," he said at last, holding his still warm, but slightly rigid, hand, "I didn't want to do this. You know that, don't you? But you gave me no choice. It won't be so bad. You have Fred fawning all over you like some helpless schoolboy." He shook his head sadly. "Why couldn't things just be the way they were?"

All of a sudden Brad jerked to his feet, turned and started walking toward the door. "Sorry, Jess," Fred grinned from the hallway. AIt's my time to take Braddy here for a test drive."

"Yeah, sure," sighed Jess. Almost to himself, he murmured, "Wanna go walk, Brad?"

"Walk wif Jess!" said a clear voice.

Both Jess and Fred stared. Brad's face was still impassive...but was that a tiny hint of a smile?

"It's not possible..." Fred began.

"I said that to him a thousand times as a kid," Jess breathed. "And that's what he always answered. Like a trigger..."

They looked at each other, then at Brad, standing there waiting for his next order. "Are you in there?" Jess wondered. "Somewhere deep down, somehow?"

Fred remembered the phrase he had used with Jess earlier. "Answer as Brad, not brad unit. As your real self."

Brad's smile became big, innocent. "Course I'm here!" he said in that same childlike voice. "I always was."

Jess looked at Brad, then at Fred, and suddenly his heart felt light. Maybe he hadn't lost a brother after all. Maybe... just maybe... he'd found him again.

END

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