istari

Mastering Alex

Chapter 5: Robert and Michael

Michael bowed humbly, but gracefully, and escorted me into the living room. It had been a few months since I'd been in for a visit, and Robert seemed equally glad to see me.

"Come in, Steven," he said in his dark, slightly menacing voice. He was a true master, and I naturally did as I was instructed. "You've been such a stranger lately."

We shook hands and he gestured me to the comfortable sofa. Michael was gone and back again with drinks for both of us before I'd even missed him. The young slave then stood silently beside his master, his eyes cast down and his hands behind his back.

"Michael is looking well," I offered as I took my first sip.

Robert indolently patted the boy on the thigh. "Yes, he is a fine young piece of meat, isn't he?"

I nodded and toasted my glass to the young slave. He gazed up for just an instant and smiled.

"So, Steven, tell me about this new slave of yours. I would not have thought you were the type to take one."

I shrugged my shoulders. I'd played around a bit in the scene, but Robert knew my orientation was toward the very young, and that boys had always been the quiet focus of my desires. You don't generally find twelve-year-olds in slave collars.

"It certainly didn't start out that way," I confessed, "but that's where we are now. We both need to do this. Him especially."

"How old is he?"

In my heart I was certain that Robert already knew the answer. He wouldn't have bothered to ask otherwise. I did my best to look him in the eye, but found it harder than I thought. "He'll be thirteen in two months."

Robert eyed me darkly for a moment, but then a soft smile came to his lips. "So it's Alex."

"Yes."

"I had him figured all along. I know a slave when I see one, even if he's still a child."

"Took me a while to figure it out," I said.

"Naturally. You're his only family. That does make it harder to see, and harder to do something about. He is terribly young still."

"I know that, Robert," I replied, somewhat defensively. "But he knows what he wants, and he knows what he needs. He's already hurting himself. If I don't help him, he'll try to find it someplace else. I can't let him do that. I've worked too hard to undo all that damage. This is what comes next."

"I'm not judging you, Steven," he said. His eyes were gentle. "Michael here was not exactly legal when we started, were you, slave?"

"No, master," the young man replied quietly, not raising his head. His voice was soft and respectful and still rang with the lightness of youth.

"Tell me," Robert continued, "does Alex ejaculate?"

"He does."

"Well then I suppose he's old enough for just about anything. Still I'd take it slow for a start."

"So, you think we should keep going?"

"He's your responsibility, not mine. You know him better than anyone. Is he ready?"

I was silent.

"Answer my question," Robert said sternly. "Is that boy a slave or isn't he?"

"He is."

"And can you be his master?"

"I can."

"Then yes, you should keep going. If you don't train him, who will?"

"Will you help us?" I asked.

Another of his soft, masterful smiles followed. "I will. But a new slave should only have one master, particularly when he's so young. Michael and I will both help with his training, but you must make it clear to him, at all times, that he is your slave, not ours. Do you understand the difference?"

"I do."

"Very well," Robert said. He lost himself in thought for a moment. Finally his dark eyes rested on me decisively. "I'll want to see Alex for myself, before we go any further. Shall we say tomorrow afternoon?"

It was a polite question, but somehow it also seemed to be a command.

"I'll have him with me," I said.

"Excellent. We'll get his measurements while he's here. I'm assuming you'll be needing some gear for him, and the proper equipment."

I nodded. "I'm not quite sure where to start, or what to start with."

He smiled thoughtfully. "Just the basics will do for now. Collar, cuffs, harness. Actually you could get just about everything you need from commercial sources. A small- sized man isn't much bigger than your average twelve-year- old, a bit thicker in the chest and legs maybe, but I still believe a custom fit is best. You'll want his movement restricted, I suppose."

"Certainly."

"Do you intend to keep him in a chastity device?"

That went without saying. "Absolutely. Alex has a problem with touching himself."

"We'll see that habit broken very quickly. Michael here couldn't stop either, until I took control of his cock. When was the last time you touched your penis, Mikey?" Robert asked.

The young slave looked up and spoke in his soft, but confident voice. "Three years, master," he said. I was stunned.

"And the last time I allowed you to become fully erect?"

"Two months, sir."

"Your last orgasm?"

"The same, sir."

I stared at the boy in shock. Such a beautiful, smooth, masculine specimen he was, and still quite young himself. Robert laughed gently and patted Michael on the thigh.

"I milk him dry once a week. Keeps him docile. He doesn't even get hard when I do it. I'll suggest the same routine for young Alexander. Tell me, have you fucked the boy yet?"

"Just last night, for the first time."

"So you've taken him already, excellent. Do you have a plug in him?"

"No."

Robert waved his finger at me in admonishment. "Shame on you. No matter his age, once you've taken a boy's ass, he needs something inside him all the time. Michael, go fetch Master Steven a butt-plug right away."

The handsome young slave bowed his head and gracefully strode off. Robert called after him. "And remember he's only twelve years old. Make your selection appropriate."

Robert then turned to me. "I believe in absolute control, Steven," he explained, "and I expect Michael to show total obedience. The boy does nothing without my permission. I am, I think, unusually strict with him. If you wish to be more lenient with Alex, until he is older, I will understand, but all children need discipline as you well know, and a child slave needs more than most. Alex is a child, and he will make childish mistakes. Michael certainly did, and he already had hair on his balls when I took him in. I learned to be patient with him, and you'll agree the results, thus far, are quite impressive."

Michael was impressive, and fully and happily committed to a life of servitude. I wanted that same happiness for Alex.

"Last night," I said, "it was the first time I've ever done it with a boy. But it wasn't the first time he'd been done. You know he was abused."

"Indeed, I remember. That does make it more difficult. How much of this is the abuse, and how much of it is Alexander?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. I don't know where the abuse ends and he begins."

"He needs you to help him figure that out."

Robert rose from his chair and I joined him. He took my hands, his grip firm but supportive.

"I've known you since you popped out of your mother," he said, such was his way with words. "In fact I was there. I was the first person to hold you, after your parents. Did you know that?"

"No," I smiled.

"You will always be a son to me. Alex, on the other hand, I hardly know at all. You may find that I can see him more clearly than you do. He is an object, as far as I am concerned. I will treat him as such. Do not hate me for doing so."

"And how should I treat him?"

"Just as your heart tells you." He looked me deeply in the eye. "There is a fine master inside, I've caught glimpses of it before. Dominance is in your nature. I will help you find it. I believe you'll be a master of a gentler kind than I am, but strength comes in many forms. You must be strong for him. But never forget his age, Steven. You must master him, but you must also still raise him. Not an easy task, I think."

Michael returned bearing a small metallic butt-plug upon a velvet cloth. It was only about an inch-and-a-quarter in diameter at its widest, nothing to cause a young boy too much distress. Robert approved instantly.

"This should fit the little man quite snuggly. See that he is wearing it when you bring him tomorrow. Don't disappoint me, Steven," were his last words as Michael showed me to the door. Alexander's plug sat wrapped in velvet on the seat beside me as I drove home.

Chapter 6: Preparations

What frightened and troubled me most was that our relationship would have to undergo some dramatic changes. Or would it? In a matter of minutes I glanced back over the last three years of our lives, and I realized that at some basic level Alex was already a slave. He'd always been one. When did a day go by that I didn't give him some kind of order? And when did he ever complain or mope or disobey me? Never. The boy was happiest when he was doing things for me, and not just where sex was concerned. That was important, at least to me. We couldn't have sex all the time, and I began to enjoy the thought that Alex would be my slave in all things, in all places, in every second of every day.

I would still love him and nurture him, but I suppose even that would take on a new dimension now. Nothing we did would ever be between equals, it never really had been, and that was a thrilling and wonderful discovery.

I stopped to get a pizza for us on the way and pulled back into the drive by early evening. There were no lights on in the house that I could see.

Alex was still in the kitchen when I walked in, slumped over the table asleep. I put the pizza on the counter and approached him slowly. He was breathing softly, his pencil still resting lightly in his left hand. In front of him was a neat stack of paper written in his youthful script. Next to this was a single page, printed in neat letters.

'My slave rules' it began.

I didn't take the time to look at it. It was something he would share with me. I nudged him gently. Alex moaned and took a sharp breath, then opened his beautiful eyes.

"Sorry I was away so long, Alex," I said as I tousled his hair. "How was your day?"

"Alright," the boy replied as he stretched his bare arms behind his head. He then looked at me with needy eyes. "Can I please go to the bathroom?"

"I don't know, can you?" I said smartly.

Alex rolled his eyes. "May I," he emphasized the word, "please go to the bathroom?"

"Of course. Hurry back. We have a lot to talk about before bed."

Sensing something important he smiled and scrambled off, holding his hands between his legs. I wondered if he'd been holding it in all day, and figured he probably had. A few seconds later I heard a loud sigh of relief from the bathroom and shortly he returned, considerably more composed.

"Better?"

"Much."

First order of business was dinner. Again he stood as he ate his share. He asked me about Robert and what had happened. I reminded him it was not a slave's place to ask, and that he'd be told when I felt he needed to know. Alex stared at me with a stunned expression, not expecting such a quick and stern rebuke. Disappointment clouded his youthful features.

"Don't worry," I consoled him. "You'll hear all about Robert after dinner."

He finished quickly, eager to know what his future held.

"Clean this up, then come into the living room. Bring your papers. I'm going to see how you did on the house. Oh, by the way, when did you get your writing done?"

"About three-thirty," Alex said as he swallowed his last bite.

That was nearly five hours ago. "And you sat there all this time, waiting for me?"

"Yes, sir," the boy said without boast or pride.

I just shook my head at him. "What kind of boy sits still that long?"

No words of wisdom from this twelve-year-old, just a casual shrug of his shoulders.

The last of the plates and glasses were clattered into the dishwasher. I cringed and imagined most of them being broken. Still I laughed to myself. Alex was desperate to get that mundane task finished so the real fun could begin. I guess I should have expected him to be a little excitable. He marched into the room decisively and stood in front of me with his papers in his hands. I was on the couch, and took a few minutes to simply appreciate him.

"The house looks fine," I began. "Be a little more thorough in the bathrooms next time."

"Yes, sir."

"Now, show me your essay."

Alex handed it to me. It was four pages, front and back. Quite prolific for a pre-adolescent. I read it carefully. I could feel his young eyes upon me, eager for some kind of compliment or criticism, anything but silence. I knew it was bugging him, and so I just kept right on. I could hear him nervously shuffling his feet. Finally I let him off the hook.

It was a very good essay and I told him so. Alex had obviously given this a lot of thought and worked very hard to get his ideas in order. He also raised some points that demanded I challenge him further.

"You talked about two kinds of slavery, Alex. Explain that to me."

He looked at me thoughtfully for a moment. "Well," he said, trying to sound very grown up, "in school we learned about the blacks, and how they got here and all. They were slaves."

"They certainly were," I agreed.

"But not like me."

"Why not?"

"They didn't get to decide on their own, if they wanted to be. Slaves or not I mean."

"And you did decide."

"Yep."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Sure. You didn't make me this way."

"Then who did, you?"

Suddenly he felt a trap closing in. I could see it in his eyes. "Well, no," he stammered, "not me, I guess."

"Then who?"

Alexander thought about that for a while. "Nobody," he finally said.

"I don't understand, Alex. Nobody made you a slave, but you are a slave. And you said it was your choice."

"That's not what I meant." I could hear the frustration in his voice.

"What did you mean?"

"I guess I meant to say I was made that way, like I was born that way or something."

"Just like some people are born with brown hair and some with blond?"

"Yeah, that's it. Kind of like that."

"Then you didn't have a choice at all, did you?"

That hit him hard and he didn't have an answer for me. Alex was pretty close to tears. I looked at him with loving eyes and drew him beside me.

"It's alright, Alex," I said softly. "That was cruel of me. I wanted to see how far you would go. I'm sorry."

I sat him down and we snuggled for a bit.

"It kind of felt weird," he confided, "when you were saying those things. I got hard."

"I know you did."

"I don't have a choice, do I?"

I rubbed his shoulders. "About some things you do. Other things you don't. Does that make you scared?"

"A little."

"Well I'm glad you're being honest. Tell you what, why don't you read me your rules now, and we'll see how you did."

"Want me to stand up again?" he asked.

"No. I like you right here."

Alex reached forward and took the single sheet of paper from the coffee table. He read the rules aloud to me in a soft, confident voice. Some of them were familiar, routines we'd already begun to practice, others were of his own making, but quite astute and mature.

1. I will always be naked, or in my work uniform, unless my master tells me to wear clothes.
2. I will always stand or kneel in the house, unless my master tells me to sit. I will only sit where I'm told.
3. I will not speak unless I'm spoken to. If I have something to say, I will ask my master's permission before I say it.
4. I will not go to the bathroom without permission.
5. I will do whatever my master tells me. He loves me and knows what's best.

6. I am not allowed to touch my penis or my balls, ever, unless master tells me to.
7. I will be awake before my master, every day.
8. I will keep myself clean.
9. I will eat all of my vegetables, even the ones I don't like.
10. I will not lie to my master.

"Go ahead."

11. I will be allowed to cry when it hurts. I will never pretend it doesn't when it does, or it that it does when it doesn't.
12. I will never tell anyone about these rules or the things my master and I do together. No one understands me like he does, and I know he's doing all this for me. I will say 'thank you' to him every day for as long as I live.

"How did I do?" he asked.

I wiped a tear from my own eye. "I think it's perfect. I agree with every one of them. We can add more as you get older, but it's a good start. There is one change we have to make. Let's put it in number six."

Gently I pushed him off the couch and gestured to the velvet cloth upon the table.

"Pick it up and unwrap it," I instructed. "It's a gift from Robert."

Alex quickly did as he was told and soon he was holding the shiny, silvery butt-plug in his hand.

"Do you know where that goes?" I asked.

He took a deep breath and slowly nodded his head.

"Then here is your new rule six: I am not allowed to touch my penis or my balls, ever, unless master tells me to. I will have a plug in my behind all the time. Only my master can take it out."

A little high-pitched cry issued from Alexander's throat.

"Bend over and grab your ankles."

With a frightened look on his face he did so, presenting his hairless young boy-hole to me.

"This is smaller than my dick," I said, just to reassure him. "It won't hurt you. It's going to drive your little prostate crazy. Your dick will be leaking like a faucet from now on. Ready?"

"Yes, sir," his voice was small and suddenly very, very young.

"Make like you're taking a crap."

Alex followed orders and the beginner-sized plug went right inside him. His ass slurped the last half-inch or so in all by itself. He yelped and wiggled as he felt the constant pressure on his immature joy button. I pulled him back onto my lap and held him as he fought these new sensations.

"It's never going to go away," I told him. "When you get used to this one, we'll stuff a bigger one up there."

"Oh shit," he cried, his voice strained and higher than usual. I could see the wet-spot already forming on the front of his jockstrap. "Shit, shit, shit."

"That's something you won't be doing without my help from now on."

"That's not funny."

"No, it's true. Now get to bed. Your own room. I'm taking you to see Robert tomorrow afternoon, and I want you rested."

"How can I sleep with this thing in me?!"

"Get used to it, kiddo. It's part of your life from now on."

"Can I please jerk off?"

"No."

He looked at me in desperation.

"You made that rule up yourself, remember."

Defeated by his own handwriting, he hung his head and marched upstairs.

Chapter 7: The Measure of a Boy

"Sit down," I told him.

The boy slumped into his chair, squirming around to find a comfortable position for the plug in his young ass.

"I had a wet dream last night," he told me. "I tried to stop it, but I couldn't. It's all crusty down there now."

Smiling, I patted him on the head. "I figured you'd have one. That should take the edge off for a while. How are you doing otherwise?"

He winced a bit as he wiggled again. "This thing's driving me crazy. It doesn't really hurt though. Just makes me feel full. My dick's leaking."

"It's supposed to be. Have you had a piss yet this morning?"

"No. I have to ask, right?"

"Right," I said, sipping my coffee. "Do you need one?"

"So bad I can taste it," Alex replied.

I gave him an evil grin. "Don't give me any ideas, squirt."

He scrunched up his face in disgust, but I saw his eyes dancing with the possibility. In a small voice he asked me. "You wouldn't really make me drink it, would you?"

"I could. After all you're a slave. If I told you to do it, you would."

The boy put down his toast and looked at me with a worried expression. "I don't think I'm ready for that kind of stuff."

"You'd say no to me?"

This was important ground we were covering, quite unexpectedly, and I wondered what his answer would be, and how I'd handle it. Finally, with a look of guilt on his face, he nodded his head and a soft 'yes' escaped his lips. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I said, reaching across the table and taking his hand. "Your being a slave doesn't mean I can abuse you, or do things you really don't want. If you ever get frightened, I want you to tell me no."

Relief filled Alexander's eyes and he left his chair to hug me. I guess I should have scolded him for getting up without permission, but then I didn't really want a robot around the house needing orders for everything. I held him tightly.

"I think we need a new rule, don't you?"

He agreed and went off to fetch his paper from yesterday. We then sat down together to think it through.

"This is an important one, isn't it?" he asked.

"It is. Most of these are about what you can't do. But you need some rights too."

"How 'bout, 'I am allowed to tell my master no, if I get really scared.' Does that work?"

"I like it. This afternoon, we'll ask Robert how he and his slave handle things like that."

"Robert has a slave?"

"I think that's going to be 'Master Robert' to you, from now on, and yes he does. He never brings him along when he visits."

"Is that why you never took me with you before?"

"Precisely, Watson. Didn't think you were ready to see that."

"How old is he?" Alex asked undeterred. "What's his name?"

"He's eighteen, his name is Michael, and don't you think you've spoken out of turn long enough?"

"Oops! Sorry, sir," he said.

A little smack on his bare behind was his punishment. "Now, let's get your bladder taken care of before you burst."

He rushed to the toilet the moment we reached the bathroom.

"Hold on, Alex. First things first. Bend over."

The boy dutifully bent at the waist and grabbed his ankles again, knowing well what was coming. His instincts were sharp. He won't always need to be told. I liked that. Wrapping an arm around his waist, I took hold of the end of the plug with my free hand. I pulled it out with slow but insistent force. Alex gasped and whimpered. When it was halfway out of him, I held it there. In that position, his body's natural instinct was to slurp it back in, but the strength of my hand kept it right were it was, stretching him wide. Alex' knees buckled and his legs turned to rubber.

"Aw, god, awww!" he cried.

With a swift motion I gave it a sharp tug and the plug slipped right out. It was surprisingly clean, just a thin brown juice, the same that was now running down his legs. I put his plug in the sink and told him to strip. With his eyes still moist he obeyed, skinning out of his two-day old shirt and jock. He was soft, but his balls were swinging low and ready. I cupped them gently and rolled his young nuts between my fingers. Alex moaned and licked his lips.

"How does it feel inside?"

"Empty, and kind of squishy."

"On the toilet, young man," I said.

The realization that I was going to watch him piss and take a shit struck him suddenly and he stared at me with that same giddy, excited, frightened expression I'd seen so much of these last few days. Nothing happened.

"What's wrong?" I asked playfully.

"Geez, man, I can't do it with someone watching me."

"Well you're going to have to get used to it. Besides, what's the big deal? You walk around naked in front of me with all your parts hanging out, you've had my dick up your ass and in your mouth. I've seen about all of you there is. Think about it."

Alex smiled from the toilet and I could see him start to relax. A nice stream of piss began to splatter in the bowl, and then, with a little grunt he emptied his bowels. He looked up at me sheepishly as the strong odor filled the room.

"Damn!" I said, waving my hand in the air. "No human being should smell like that!"

When he was done wiping, I had him present himself to me again, to make sure he was clean. A nice pink hairless hole greeted my inspection.

"Spotless," I proclaimed. He laughed. "Wash off your plug, I'm not doing that for you."

The boy trotted over to the sink and ran the water, soaping up his hands. If cleaning his own juice off the plug bothered him, he didn't let on. Finished, he dried it with a towel and handed it back to me with anticipation in his eyes.

"Not just yet. Let's shower first."

Young Alexander's face lit up at the suggestion. I ran the water for us while he laid out the towels. Things were warm but not too steamy. I stripped as he looked on, then I took his hand and together we stepped in and drew the curtain. Alex stood under the stream, and I felt my heart pounding as I watched the water run down his smooth hairless body, forming little rivulets upon his skin. It was slowly wetting his hair, turning it a dark, dark brown, and running down now upon his face. With two fingers under his chin I lifted his eyes to my own.

"You're so beautiful," I said, overwhelmed by the small presence of this gentle loving boy as he stood there, shivering slightly in spite of the warmth of the water. He smiled at me, the biggest, happiest smile I'd ever seen him give.

"What is it?" I asked.

"This is the first time we've done this since I was like three."

Amazingly it was true. We'd practically lived naked in this house for the past few years, but for some silly reason bath time had always been a private thing. I remembered that ritual from long ago, big brother giving little brother his bath. Mom and dad were happy for the break, and little Alex was always wound up with excitement, and hard as a rock, or maybe a pebble back then. Anyway, I was always the one who got the most water on him as he splashed and giggled.

"You used to give me soap-sud beards, remember?" he asked. There was a look of faraway longing in his young hazel eyes.

"I remember. Then I'd put you in your pj's and read you a story."

"Sometimes we'd both fall asleep," he continued our memory.

"Then mom would come in and cover us up."

Alex sniffled. Was he starting to cry? The water running down his face from the shower made it impossible to tell. "I really miss them," he said in a stricken voice. "But," he turned his eyes away and didn't continue.

"Tell me," I said as gently as I could.

"I'm having a hard time remembering what they look like. I have to look at their pictures now, or I forget. Does that make me a bad person?"

I pulled him close and he pressed his head to my chest. "You were so young when they died. You don't have many memories to start with. That's just how it is, I guess. You look a lot like her, you know."

"Do I?" he said gazing up at me with our mother's eyes.

"Makes it real hard to fuck you, that's for sure."

He smiled a little, but I could tell this was no time for laughter. "If they were still alive, do you think I'd be different?"

"Would you want to be?"

"I don't know. Like you said, it's just how it is."

I ran my fingers through his wet hair and kissed him on the forehead. "Want to know what I think?"

Alex nodded that he did.

"I think you'd still be smart as a whip, and kind, and gentle. You'd still be the best kid in the whole world, as far as I'm concerned."

He hugged me a little tighter. "Would I 3; be all the other things too?"

"Probably."

That seemed to make him feel better. Slowly the sadness faded as we leisurely washed each other. I soaped him up first, relishing in his smooth warm skin and his lean, muscular frame. I tweaked his nipples and gave them both a little squeeze. He stood up on his toes and took in a sharp breath, but not a sound came forth. I jiggled his young balls. The water had made them hang even lower in their hairless sac, now silken and dark red from the heat. I stroked him to erection, then knelt before him. It may not have been something a master should do, but it just felt right.

I'd only been sucking him for a few minutes when he curled his little toes and came in my mouth, gasping and grunting and filling me with his immature seed. Its taste was strangely sweet. I stood again when I was finished. Alex looked up at me with dreamy eyes, then dropped to his knees, the water rolling off his shoulders and back. His small hands caressed me, and he took me into his mouth. I steadied him, but let him do the work for both of us. It wasn't long before he'd brought me to the edge. He was intent and didn't realize the effect he was having. I put one hand behind his head, pressing him forward.

"I'm going to cum now," I told him. "I'm going to cum in your mouth, Alexander. Swallow it."

Unable to hold back any longer, I shot jet after jet into his small, warm mouth. I could see his eyes widen as I filled him up. Dutifully he swallowed, not spilling a precious drop of my fluid, then looked up at me with just a little pride.

"I like making you feel good," he said in a sleepy, satisfied voice.

"You do a very good job of it," I complimented him. Alex was about to stand up again, but I held him down with gentle pressure on his shoulders. "Stay on your knees and wash me."

"Yes, sir." Alex just seemed to know when to call me that, and his mood became instantly subdued. A certain tone in my voice, a certain manner in my expression held a deep and instant power over him. The boy went about his task with single-minded focus.

The touch of his young hands on my skin was light and sure. It was ecstasy when he washed my legs.

"May I stand up to do the rest of you?" Alex asked with his head bowed.

Gently I lifted his chin with two fingers. "I want you to look at me when you speak. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Never hide your eyes from anyone."

Alex gave me a quick smile. "Yes, sir."

I could see a question brewing in those hazel orbs. "Tell me."

"Well, sir, that doesn't seem like something a slave should do."

I raised him to his feet. "It probably isn't, Alex. But you and I are going to do things differently. I always want you to be proud. Maybe, sometimes, I'll want you to keep your eyes down, but only when I tell you, got it?"

He nodded and finished his task. I hugged him close, as the water fell upon us.

"Ready to get out?"

"Yeah, I'm all pruny."

I made Alex remain dripping wet while he dried me, then he dried himself under my watchful eyes. He hung up the towels as instructed, then shifted his attention to the butt- plug, clean and waiting by the sink. The boy's expression was a perfect mix of desire and dread. I knew he wanted it, I also knew it was already a powerful symbol of his humility and submission.

"How does that make you feel?" I asked. "Not just down here," I tenderly caressed his round behind.

Alex was silent for a while. He was just staring at it, and considering all these new and confusing sensations his young body was experiencing. Finally he turned and looked at me, just as I'd told him to do. His expression was serious.

"It makes me feel like I have to cum, all the time, but also that I don't want to. I mean, like needing to cum is better than really doing it. It's like my dick is saying one thing, and the rest of me is saying something else. That doesn't make any sense, does it?"

Just talking about it was making him hard again. There he stood shamelessly bobbing and throbbing, pre-cum oozing from his slit.

"Actually it makes perfect sense," I said, flicking his rigid young boner with my finger. "We're going to train that dick of yours."

Alex looked at me with wild eyes. "How?"

"You'll find out."

He seemed disappointed that he'd have to wait, but I had an idea that would drag him along for a while and give him a little taste of what was to come.

"Take the plug to your bedroom with you. Put it on your nightstand then lie down, face up. Don't touch yourself. I'll be in shortly."

He made a cute little bow then marched off to follow orders, grabbing up the metal butt-plug as he went. Alex caressed it as if were made of some precious substance. Quickly I got dressed then went down to the basement to find something I might use on him. Naturally I didn't have any bondage gear for the kid yet, but I managed to find some soft old rope wound up in a darkened corner. I laid it out on the floor and cut it to more appropriate lengths. Before I turned off the single overhead light I paused and looked around. I hadn't been down here in an age, but I instantly knew this was going to be the perfect place for us, the perfect place for Alexander.

It's an old house, like I said, and the basement is huge. Several thick wooden pillars and a pair of newer ones made of steel supported the floor above. There were equally thick rafters running its entire length. It had no ground- level windows as modern basements do. The walls were brick, patched here and there with concrete. The floor was brick was well. There was the ubiquitous creaky narrow wooden stair from the kitchen, but there was also an outside exit with an inner and outer door. Transforming this cold dark space would be fairly easy, and already a vision of how I'd lay things out was beginning to form, and with it a vision of things Alex and I would do here.

I hurried up the stairs, realizing I'd spent more time than I'd intended. Alex was waiting for me exactly as instructed. When he saw the ropes in my hands his eyes flashed with excitement.

"Oh, shit! You're gonna tie me up! Finally!"

"That's right, Alex. Are you okay with that?"

"Way okay," he said with a smile. "Make 'em real tight. Please?"

"Just enough to keep you from getting loose. Let's do your wrists first."

He lay flat on his back and perfectly still. I took his left wrist and looped the first of the ropes around it. Then I pulled his arm out straight and tied the rope around corner of the headboard. It was an old cast iron one with thick bars, just made for this sort of thing as luck would have it. Alex' eyes followed me eagerly as I slowly walked around and repeated the procedure with his right arm. He tugged on his restraints, but his arms were going nowhere, stretched just slightly above his head.

"How's that?" I asked. "First time I've ever tied a boy up."

"You're good at it," he said, giving another useless but symbolic wriggle.

"Now your ankles." I spread him as far as I dared, until I could see the muscles in his legs begin to strain. "Does that hurt?"

"A little," he gasped.

"Can you handle it?"

"Yes, sir."

Without a further word I tied his ankles as I'd done his wrists before. The boy was now stretched across the bed, his hairless but impressive cock standing straight up, six inches and hard as steel.

"Fuck me," he whispered. "Please."

Ignoring him, I took the butt-plug and slowly worked it back inside him. Alex gasped and grunted in frustration as it went in. I gave his penis several quick strokes. He moaned and begged me to make him shoot.

I left him hard and horny and unable to do a thing about it. "We won't be leaving 'til after lunch. I'll release you when it's time to eat."

Twelve-year-old Alex almost growled at me. It was nice to see a little flare of resistance from the submissive boy. He made one more valiant attempt to test his bonds, then flopped his head down onto the pillow with a weak little cry. I stepped close to his bed once more.

"I'll leave the door open just in case. If it gets too much for you, just shout. I'll let you go if you really can't take it. Try to take it. Try for me." I kissed my bound boy on the forehead and walked away.

Chapter 8: Twists and Turns

And there was something else. I knew that sooner or later there would have to be pain. Alex needed it. So badly he'd soon start asking for it. I hadn't yet done that to him, caused him real pain, and I wasn't sure if I could. I'd played on the edges of this kind of thing before, but my so- called partners were mere joinings of convenience, young men and horny teens, some of whom liked things a bit rough. I was happy to oblige. I enjoyed the dominant role when it presented itself, but I'd never considered myself a master, and all those relationships were fleeting, all about sex and really nothing else.

It had to be different with Alex. We already had a relationship to start with. That made what we were doing a lot more meaningful, and a lot more dangerous. How does one handle a twelve-year-old slave? Naturally there was no information to be found. Somewhere, I just knew, there were other boys who were slaves like Alex, and other men like me who kept them, but one does not advertise when living on the edge of a knife.

I thought about Robert and Michael again. Mike is of age now, but he certainly wasn't when they'd started, barely fifteen if I remember. Like Alexander now, he had the heart of a boy, but the needs of a man. How does one navigate that tricky ground without destroying something in the boy? Maybe it can't be done. Maybe I wanted more from him than he could give. Alex could be a boy, or he could be a slave, maybe he couldn't be both at once. I really needed some time alone with Robert to talk this through, but I knew, in the end, it would have to be my decision.

The morning was moving along fast, and it was nearly time for lunch. I made my way quietly to Alex' room. The boy had lost his erection, but otherwise he was, naturally, just as I'd left him. His eyes were closed, but he was not asleep. His lips were curled in a soft, contented smile. He'd wiggle his fingers, then his toes, then pull a little against the ropes. I knocked on the doorframe. Alex opened his eyes right away.

"Doing okay?" I asked.

"Sure am. I didn't know it could feel this good," he said, tugging on his restraints again.

"You're soft."

He raised his head and looked down the length of his out-stretched body. Alex was surprised to discover his boner had gone south. "When did that happen? I didn't even notice, with the ropes and the plug and everything." He flopped his head on the pillow again and let out a deep breath. "Shit, I love being stretched like this. Make it tighter."

I shook my finger at him. "Since when do you start giving orders?"

Alex smiled at me, but I could see he was genuinely disappointed when I loosened the ropes and got him back on his feet. His lips were pouting. I gave him a little kiss.

"You have to learn that I decide when you're tied up and when you're not. You can beg and plead and give me that look all you want, but I know what's best, remember? That's one of your rules."

"Sorry. It was just so wild." He inspected his wrists. They were just a little red from the ropes, but the marks were fading fast. "Will you 3; will you fuck me like that sometimes, all tied up?"

"Oh, I think you can count on that, my little slave."

He actually jumped a little. "That's so hot! I can't wait."

"You'll have to. I might just keep that plug in you for three or four days. I haven't decided when you're getting your next fuck."

"Make it soon, Steve, please. I want it so bad."

I smiled at him wickedly and took him by the wrist. He winced a little from the ropes. "This isn't about what you want anymore, Alex, or need. It's about me controlling your wants and needs. From now on I decide when you piss and when you shit, when you get fucked, and when you cum. You're not allowed to make those decisions for yourself. That's my job."

"What I want doesn't matter," he said, almost singing the words.

"I didn't say that, Alex. That would make it too easy for you. What you want matters a lot. That's how it works. I take control of all that. I take control of you, and you do as you're told because you need it."

I swear his dick shot up hard in about two seconds.

"Oh, man. You're making me hard again."

"Don't touch yourself," I said before he could even think about it. "If you get hard without permission, that's your problem, not mine. You can just stay that way."

And he did. All the way down the stairs and all through lunch. He had to fight to keep from touching himself, and often required a stern look or a slap of his hands, but he managed it. I was very proud of him.

"Follow me upstairs," I said after he'd cleaned up the dishes. "We need to get you dressed."

I stood him in the middle of his room while I surveyed his wardrobe. Robert hadn't given me any specific instructions as to what Alex should be wearing, but I somehow knew my choices would be scrutinized when we arrived. From his underwear drawer I pulled out a pair of bikini briefs, dark blue. He'd been into boxers lately, but these were a well-used pair. I watched as the boy quickly worked his slender, muscular legs into the holes and slid them up, resting them just below his narrow waist.

"Mmmm, silky," he said, swinging his hips in a provocative fashion.

"You really are hopeless, aren't you?"

"Yep. One-hundred-percent All-American horny, that's me."

I took a nice pair of jeans from his closet and tossed them in his direction. "Get into those while I find you a shirt." I heard Alex shuffling around for a few moments and in the meanwhile selected a striped pullover for him. It was a very sexy shirtless boy who stood there when I turned around. Some boys look sloppy or just silly in jeans, too skinny and bony to really fill them out properly. Not so my Alexander. His thighs, his hips, his nice bulge there in front. The fabric hugged everything tightly. He was gorgeous, and he spun around to show himself off. His butt was perfect.

"Cute ass," I complimented him.

"Sure ya don't want a piece of it before we go?"

"Tramp."

"Hey!" He threw a pillow in my direction.

Soon I had him pinned beneath me on the bed. The boy wiggled and struggled, then shrieked bloody-murder when I tickled him. Finally, we both calmed down, and he looked at me with those thoughtful sad eyes of his.

"I'm not like that. I'm not 3; what you said. Am I?"

"No, little man."

"You 3; you're the only one I ever want inside me."

I was touched, but some part of me also relished in tormenting him. "Too bad," I said matter-of-factly. "I imagine Robert's going to want to fuck you, long and hard, just like you deserve. He's a lot bigger than I am. He'll probably tear you up pretty bad."

His eyes danced and watered. "You're not going to let him, are you?" The fear in his voice was delicious. I was beginning to love the power I had to screw with his head, to make him cry, to toy with his young emotions. I was also beginning to understand that there were many kinds of pain, many ways to hurt, and that I had just hurt my boy deeply. A few tears ran from his eyes. I touched a hand to his cheek.

"No, of course not. Actually, you're too young to interest him, at least as far as sex is concerned. He may want to make you scream, just to hear it, and I will let him do that."

Again there was fear in his young eyes, but this time also the unmistakable look of excitement and desire.

I put his shirt on him then tucked it in, finishing him off with a brown leather belt. He brushed his hair and I added a little gel to give it that spiky style he was so fond of. Socks and shoes went on last. I paused to study him, pleased with how sharp he looked. He was neat and handsome, and he looked as good in clothes as out of them. We were ready.

A two-hour drive up state lay ahead of us. We were in my pick-up, the one I bought myself as a present after beating my addictions. I will always see that moment as my liberation, and the man who awaited us as the one largely responsible. The truck, sporty and full-sized, appealed to me back then, an ironic symbol of freedom and independence. As Alex sat beside me, I decided I would have to get a cap for the bed. Then I could make some alterations that would allow me to transport him in the back. I started to tell him about my evil plans for him, but he didn't seem in the mood to talk.

Alex was oddly subdued, just staring out the side window.

"Scared?" I asked him gently.

"Yes," he said, finally turning to face me. There were no tears in his eyes, but they were dancing with strong and confused emotions. "I've been thinking. This is it, isn't it? I mean, after today, I can't go back to being a normal kid. Someone else is going to know all about me. All about us. That is scary."

I reached over and patted him on the leg.

"Do you want to stop? I'll turn us around right now if you do."

His answer came without hesitation. "No. I'm just a little scared that's all. Is that ok?"

"Sure. Besides, Robert can be frightening. I should know."

He looked at me with a puzzled expression. I'd never told him about those two months I spent in Robert's care, fighting cocaine. There was no sex between us, but there was restraint and discipline. He was brutal and relentless. I fought him every step, every moment, but he never let up. I hated him, but I also loved him. Robert saved my life, and gave me the new one I now lived with Alex.

"I'll tell you about it sometime," I said, figuring it was best I not fill his head with my own experiences. Alex nodded.

"Will I have to take my clothes off?" he asked.

"Yes. Robert has to measure you for your gear."

"Gear?"

"Collar, cuffs, things like that. Things you'll wear. Things I'll use on you."

I heard him take a sharp breath.

"It's been a long time since anyone's seen me naked but you."

"How does that make you feel?"

The boy paused and stared out the window again. "Actually, it's kind of exciting. Thinking about him looking at me. I'll probably get a boner."

I smiled at him, knowing it would be his last erection for quite a while.

"Remember to call him 'sir'," I instructed as we neared our destination. "And since Michael is older than you, you should call him that too, unless Robert tells you otherwise. I want you to obey him and do what he tells you, but always look at me first before you do anything. You still need my permission."

"Got it."

"No speaking unless you're spoken to."

"Got it."

"Always stand up straight."

"Got it," he said laughing. "What are you worried about? I'm the one who's gonna be naked."

"I just want you to make a good impression on him."

I turned us up a narrow drive. There was a small town, just ahead along the main road, but that was not our destination. Robert lived on a large, spacious, secluded estate, his long career in law keeping him quite comfortable. After several minutes of driving along the tree- covered lane, the pavement turned to dirt.

"He owns all this?" Alex asked in wonder.

"Obviously."

Ahead of us now was the house, a mansion really. Not some gothic horror or run down Victorian, but a modern home with large panoramic windows. We pulled up the circular driveway. Alex was still blinking in amazement at such blatant luxury. I put an arm around his shoulder and together we marched up the steps. I had him ring the bell, feeling it was important that he, not I, ask for entry into Robert's private domain.