Mastering Alex

Chapter 21
A Boy's Heart

I woke up with Alex lying beside me, still asleep. It's a wondrous thing. Practically every day for the last three years I'd awakened this way, with my naked boy pressed against me, but I'd never lost that feeling that this was so special, the love between us so strong. The boy beside me had grown a little bit bigger each year, each month, and I smiled to myself when I realized he was now a handsome young teenager, and that one day it would be a young man waking up in my arms. I love boys, yes, but I began to sense that my love for Alex had transcended that.

You see I am simply and totally and madly in love with Alex. I loved him when he was a cuddly little four-year-old. I loved him when he was a shy, sad, skinny eight-year-old. I loved him when he was a quiet and vulnerable eleven-year- old. I loved him as the confident young teen who lay beside me that morning as the summer sun shone through the windows.

He stirred and stretched.

"Still sore?" I asked after a quick morning kiss.

Alex smiled at me. "Ready for more," he sang as he took his usual position between my legs. When he'd finished bringing me off, I had him stand at the foot of the bed while I examined the marks from yesterday.

"Put on some shorts, and a T-shirt," I told him.

"Okay."

"I'll unlock the closet for you."

He looked adorable in the blue soccer shorts and the long plain white T-shirt he'd picked out. It had been a few days since he'd worn clothes, and I often forget just how sexy he is when he's dressed. I figured the clothing rubbing against the boy's bruised and tender skin would be a subtle but constant reminder of the whip, and it was. He moved around uncomfortably the whole morning as he fixed and served my breakfast and cleaned the house. Watching him wrestle with the vacuum cleaner was priceless.

My young house-boy was hard at work in the bathrooms when the phone rang. It was Robert. Normally Michael made most of his calls for him, so I knew this had to be important.

"How is the young man's shoulder?" he asked after we'd gotten the pleasantries out of the way.

"Fine," I replied. "Dr. Collins made us feel right at home."

I heard him chuckle on the other end of the line. "And what did you think of young Sebastian?"

"I've been trying not to. I've never seen a boy with tattoos before. Alex wants one now. He hasn't asked me yet, but he's just waiting for the right moment to spring it."

"He'd look nice with one," Robert offered. "Sam can do it for you, anything you can imagine. He did Sebastian's. I was there. Very hot. He'll probably have the kid's entire body covered by the time he's eighteen."

That was a strangely erotic image.

"Maybe for his next birthday," I said. "Thirteen's still a little too young in my book 3; for something so permanent. What if Alex wants to try out for the swim team this year? Kid swims like a fish you know."

"You can always put it in a place where no one but you will ever see it."

Now there was an idea, but Robert had other things on his mind.

"Well," he said softly, "I am glad he was not permanently damaged."

"I swear I thought you were going to kill me right over the phone."

"No. Injuries are inevitable in our lifestyle, but I had to be sure you weren't abusing him. If I scared you, I am sorry."

"I mostly scared myself. But we've both learned a lot about each other since then."

"That's good. Will you and Alex be joining us this weekend?"

I didn't answer right away. Ever since Robert had handed me that ominous invitation, I'd been debating this. I'd finally shown it to Alex a few weeks ago. Naturally he was eager to go and show everyone what a great master he had, and what a good slave he was. He made it seem like it was just a trip to the movies or something. His na‹ve innocence was very cute, but it also worried me. At some level he still had no idea what all this really meant, or just how seriously certain people took it.

I wasn't afraid he would embarrass himself. Alex was already too smart, and too clever, and too good a slave for that. But I was afraid he might encounter slaves who were not as brave and strong as he was, slaves who were sad, pathetic specimens of humanity. So young and impressionable, I did not want him ever thinking that's how I wanted him to be.

And then there were the other masters to consider. Alex was new and very young, still a child in the grand scheme of things. He would, naturally, be the subject of unrelenting scrutiny. I remembered that first day when he stood in front of Robert and endured the seasoned master's harsh interrogation, cruel and calculated to break him. Alex was brave and wonderful that day, but Robert had given him all he could take, and he was crying when it was over. If he lost it in front of all of those people, what would it do to him? Alex had embraced his life as a slave. He was thriving. I did not want to risk that.

"You have doubts," Robert said.

"I do. Alex wants to go, but I don't think he's prepared for what he'll see. I'm not sure if I am either."

"Come and see us, Michael and me. Tonight if you can. You can stay with us a few days, and we'll go together if you think you're ready. It's not a long ride from my place."

That was an offer I could not refuse. "You are so good to us," I said.

"I love you like a son, Steven. And I love Alex like the terrific young man he is."

Alex was instantly excited about our trip. Not only the weekend gathering, but also the chance to spend a few days with Robert and Michael in their big mansion.

"You've got such a crush on him," I said, referring to the handsome young eighteen-year-old.

"I 3; I do not," he spat, as he packed his toothbrush.

"Come on," I goaded him. "One faggot to another, he's cute, isn't he?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean 3; "

"Alex is in love. How sweet."

"I am not," he said each word forcefully.

"Well, would you like to take a little gift to this person you don't love, just to let him know how you don't feel?"

Alex grinned from ear to ear and nodded his head yes. "I know just what I want to do."

He ran to his bedroom and sat down at his desk. Watching from the doorway I could see him sketching away. I walked in quietly behind him and looked over his shoulder. Alex' art is more expressive than representative. He rarely ever draws people, or places or things. Alex draws feelings. It's an amazing talent. There was a flourish and an almost childish joy in the wild colors and swirling shapes, just giving the hint of human form. He almost never used color, preferring a world in black and white, but this was clearly something special.

"Is that the two of you?" I asked him softly. The amorphous figures appeared to be in a gentle embrace, and, as with all of the boy's work, there was the unmistakable sense of motion.

"Yeah," Alex said shyly, "sort of. I guess it's mostly just how I feel when I'm around him."

I put my hands on his shoulders and bent down to hug him.

"Sometimes you're just so beautiful," I said. He smiled up at me.

"I haven't drawn one for us yet," he explained, as if I'd asked him to. "It still feels too strong. I don't know what to draw. That's okay isn't it?"

"When you do draw us, I know it's going to be perfect."

He rolled it up carefully and we hunted for a rubber band.

"Got everything packed?" I asked as he flopped down on his bed. We would be gone for at least two days, and possibly more.

Alex gave me a puzzled look. "I'm not sure what all I should bring."

He certainly wouldn't need many clothes. I had him pack an overnight bag with a pair of shorts, socks, a long shirt and his favorite black tank-top. He'd be wearing everything else he needed before we left.

"Strip," I told him.

Alex was naked in an instant. I took a moment to study his developing young body. Alex would never go through that gangly awkward stage that leaves some boys looking all arms and legs. He was perfect. Slender and coltish, lean and muscular, his body just hinting at the shape of the man he would become. His long cock hung soft and lazily between his legs, and aside from the little sparse tuft growing above it, Alex was still smooth and hairless.

"Stand!"

Immediately he put his hands behind his head and spread his feet wide. His leather collar and the cuffs around his slender wrists and ankles had become second nature to us both. I put his belt on him and locked his cock and balls away. He hummed softly. I put the plug in his ass for the first time in days, and strapped everything tightly in place. His harness went on next. We packed the ball-gag and the thigh cuffs.

"Shirt and shorts," I ordered. "Then get your socks and shoes on."

He pulled on the same blue shorts and plain shirt he'd been wearing around the house, then worked himself into his white socks. Restricted by the harness and the tight belt around his waist, his normal graceful boyish movements were comically inept.

"I'm not very bendable in this stuff, am I?" the boy asked with a wry expression.

"That's the idea, Alex. Do your best."

He always did. Finally he stood up again, ready for action. His collar and wrist cuffs were in plain view, but everything else was completely hidden. There was that dreamy smile on his sweet young face.

"This feels so neat," he said, "wearing all my gear under my clothes. No one can see it, but I know it's there. Totally sexy."

"I thought you'd get a kick out of it."

"I'm dripping already."

"You never quit, do you? My horny little colt."

"If I am it's your fault. Keeping a kid in a chastity belt all the time. That's totally sick."

"And you love it."

"Sure do."

We grabbed our few bags and went out to the truck. It was late afternoon now, so we stopped for fast food along the way. I was content to go through the drive up, but Alex insisted on going inside. More and more he loved the idea of his hidden bondage. I was worried that his harness might show through his shirt, but it was thick enough to keep from drawing attention to what was underneath.

The boy polished off two roast beef sandwiches and ate half of my fries along with his own. I had to be careful not to get my fingers too close for fear he'd bite them off. Our food budget was already beginning to explode with a hungry just-turned-teenager in the house, and I knew it would only be getting worse. He paused in his barbaric revelry once in awhile to smile up at me sheepishly.

"Don't know why I'm so hungry all the time," he said.

"Teen – ager," I replied. "Goes with the territory. You'll settle down in a few years."

Alex shrugged his shoulders, gave me a Neanderthal- style grunt, and dove back into his second sandwich.

Back in the truck he was talkative and excited. I remembered our first trip to Robert's place not so long ago. How quiet and pensive and nervous he was, and how much younger he seemed then. It had not even been two months, but boys do change so rapidly at this age, and it was a more mature version of my Alex who was sitting beside me now. And still an incredibly cute one. I reached over and patted my hand on his bare thigh, working it slowly up his smooth soft skin to the hem of his shorts, until it came in contact with the metal that encased his boyhood.

Alexander chuckled wickedly. "Hah! Keeps you frustrated sometimes too, doesn't it?" he teased. "I can't get out and you can't get in!"

"I can wait," I replied. "Days and days if I had to. I've always got that nice little ass of yours to play with. You, on the other hand 3; are just plain stuck."

"Okay, okay," he laughed. "I get it."

He would be getting it, before the night was over.

Before we rang the bell, I stripped Alex out of his clothes, attached the leash to his collar, and put the ball- gag in the boy's mouth, strapping it tightly behind his head. Michael opened the door to us. He bowed respectfully to me, and smiled brightly at his young counterpart. Robert appeared from his study and gave me firm handshake. He gave Alex a loving and gentle smack on the side of his face, then he put his hand under the boy's chin and stared long into Alexander's eyes.

My boy did not look away.

"Last time you were here," he said to Alex, "you were just a boy. Now I see you are considerably more than that. To be a slave is to be a very special person. You understand that, don't you?"

Alex nodded that he did. I sent him back to bring in our bags, and Michael led us down the hall to a room on the first floor, which would be ours for the next several nights. Alex dutifully lugged everything along behind me. Like everything else about Robert's place, the room was spacious and had a modern feel to it, quite a departure from the two-hundred-year-old house Alex and I lived in. It was a nice escape, and Alex immediately loved all of Robert's electronic gadgetry.

Robert stuck his head in for just a moment. "Why don't you two get comfortable. I'll put some tea on later. The bathroom has a whirlpool if you're interested. Michael will get you started. Make yourselves at home."

Still silenced by the gag, Alex eyed me with desperate excitement. I gave him a little tug on his leash to bring him back in line.

"Unpack our things," I stated firmly. "I'll have Michael show me the works."

Alex got to work, and handsome young Michael showed me to the bathroom, if you could call it that. It was almost as large as the bedroom itself, with a big window that took up an entire wall, offering a wonderful view of Robert's wooded property. The tub looked more like a small pool. It already had water in it, ready and waiting. Michael, in his collar, harness and belt, his usual attire, deftly and expertly got everything started and showed me the basics. The jets came on and set the water rolling.

"It will take a few minutes for the water to heat up, sir," Michael explained after he'd satisfied himself that I knew what I was doing. He brought out a set of towels for us and laid them by the sink, as well as some lotions and oils. "May I get anything else for you, sir?"

"No, Mike, thank you." He bowed his head humbly and turned to leave. I followed him out. Alex was finished with his little task and eagerly waiting for me. Wonderful how thirteen-year-olds can turn into little boys again when they get excited. Michael gave him an affectionate pat on the shoulder. Alex nearly melted.

When it was just the two of us, I told him to come stand in front of me. Alex put his hands behind his head without being told. I ran my fingers playfully up and down his sides, over his chest and stomach, then down his shapely young legs. He purred and sighed and closed his eyes. Touch was electrifying to him, especially when he was in his belt.

"I'm going to keep you gagged for a while," I told him. My young boy just looked so sexy and vulnerable with that dark red ball in his mouth, the leather straps buckled tightly around his head. He blinked his eyes for me just once. Working slowly, I took off his gear. First his harness, then his cuffs, then his belt. All the time I was sensually massaging his soft young skin and the firm developing muscles beneath it. His butt-plug slid out with no trouble at all. Soon he'd be ready for a larger one. The metal pod, rustproof, remained around his cock and balls. Last, as always, was his collar.

There was that look of surrender in his eyes again, and I felt his body relax against my touch. I laid the boy down on the bed and he spread his legs for me. My fingers worked easily into his young rectum, pink and hairless, and no longer quite so tight as it had been. I liked him a little loose. It made penetration less of a struggle for both of us.

Just weeks ago he would have been panting and squirming and wiggling around like a dervish. Now he just lay there utterly contented as I leisurely fingered him. I knew he was feeling it. Every so often his body would give an involuntary shudder or I'd feel his little ring clench up around my fingers. I had three of them inside him now, and could have gotten a fourth if I'd wanted to tear him up or cause him pain. I wanted neither. This was about pleasure. That slow, agonizing, frustrating pleasure he'd learned all at once to love and hate as his immature prostate was relentlessly massaged and stimulated.

Alex was moaning softly and soon his quiet sobs began. Somehow this always wrecked him emotionally, more than anything else we did. I knew that inside the pod the boy's restrained cock was leaking his clear fluid, trying desperately to erect itself. I kept going for a while, keeping that maddening pressure on his insides. Finally, when I figured the water was warm enough for us, I just stopped.

That is the real cruelty and mastery of working the kid's prostate. He would not have an orgasm. He knew it, and yet he had to lay there obediently and silently and endure the unbearable pleasure that suddenly and sharply just ceased. There was no climax, no release. It just stopped. His expression was one of desperation, as it always was at the end. I drew him into my arms and kissed him, running my fingers tenderly over his tightly closed eyes, his freckled nose, his soft cheeks without even the slightest trace of peach-fuzz, and the cold rubber ball in his mouth.

"Let's take a bath," I said.

He clung to me like a little child and I led him into the spacious room where the whirlpool was bubbling and churning, inviting us in. I held him for the first few minutes, but the warm steamy water soon calmed him. I removed his gag and let him go. He scooted around until he sat across from me.

"Feeling better now?" I asked.

His eyes swam, but he smiled. "You really know how to fuck me up," he said, stretching his slender legs out until they were entwined with mine. "I think that's like the cruelest thing you could ever do to somebody. It feels so good, but it never gets anywhere. I always think I'm going to explode, that's what it feels like, but I never do. Even when you make me cum that way it's the same. It's like 3; like the opposite of an orgasm 3; whatever that's called."

"I don't think there's a word for it."

"Well, someone should invent one."

We played footsie under the water for a few minutes, Alex splashing and laughing the whole time. Finally he settled down again and came around next to me. We embraced in the warm bubbling water. He dunked himself a few times and tried to get me under once or twice. Then we just sat quietly, his head on my shoulder as the water swirled around us.

I think he was nearly asleep when Robert's quiet knock on the door roused us both. "Tea is ready, gentlemen," he said, then, turning his eyes to Alex, "and I have a chocolate scone with your name on it, young man."

Alex dried me first, as was our ritual, then himself. I put all of his gear back on, and once my thirteen-year-old slave was collared, cuffed, and harnessed, we made our way to the living room. Alex carried his gag, figuring he'd be wearing it again before the night was done.

It was a warm and joyful gathering of friends, some old, some new. Michael and Alex did not wait on us this time, and were given permission to sit down together on the large sofa. We all helped ourselves and had a lively conversation touching on sports and politics, love and war and life in general. I learned that Michael was an astute and exceptionally intelligent young man, and we gave Alex every opportunity to spread his young wings and test out his rapidly evolving sense of the world in all its grown-up complexity.

Thirteen-year-olds are so charmingly idealistic, and so morally sure and certain. It was fun watching him, and fun talking with him. The perspective of a boy can often change your own, if you are adult enough to listen to what he has to say.

"Don't you have something for Michael?" I said to him privately.

Alex blushed fiercely. "I forgot. May I go get it now?"

"We are in Robert's house. I think you need to ask him before you leave the room."

He turned to our host. "Sir, may I be excused? I will come right back."

"Certainly, dear boy," Robert replied, wondering what exactly the young lad had in mind. "He's not sick, is he?"

"I don't think I'd call it a sickness, exactly," was my cryptic reply.

Alex returned with his drawing, still tightly rolled. With it was another piece of paper I hadn't seen him write. He must have stuffed in his bag before we left. Standing as tall as his five-feet [1.50 m] allowed, he marched toward Michael and presented his thoughtful gift of friendship.

The young man was truly surprised to be the recipient. His blue eyes danced and he looked at each of us in his shy, gentle way. He read Alex' little note first, then removed the rubber band and unrolled the drawing. He looked up at Alex in wonder. My boy stood with his hands behind his back, nervously shuffling his feet.

"It's beautiful," I heard Michael say to him. "And yes, I do."

"Share it with us, Michael," said Robert.

"Sir, it's very personal," the young man replied.

Robert and I exchanged a glance then glared at our young slaves sternly.

"None of that. We are your masters," Robert said in a firm voice. "You will not keep any secrets between you. Now read Alexander's letter, Michael."

They looked at one another desperately for a moment. It was Alex' modesty and his feelings that Michael was protecting. Alex finally nodded that it was alright, and Michael began in his soft, youthful voice.

"Dear Mike,

I think you're really cute. You're also a great
slave and I'm trying very hard to be just like you. I
drew this picture for you. It's what I feel when I
think about you. I hope you like it. I hope you like me
too.

Your friend,
Alex"

I thought back to something Robert had said to me many weeks ago, when all of this still seemed so new and strange: That, one day, as my final act of love, I would let my sweet Alex go. Seeing him with Michael now, seeing them together, I saw a vision of that future. And I knew it was right.

"Yes, sir," Alex replied, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.

Robert, Michael and I all stood around him. All three of us were naked, Michael still in his collar and harness, but freed of his chastity belt for the first time in several months. Robert had had all of the young man's body hair permanently removed when he was sixteen, and his smooth tanned skin glistened in the dim soft lamplight of Robert's modern and well-equipped dungeon. I've said before that Michael is a small, slightly-built young man, and this applied to his cock and balls as well. He was just under six inches [15 cm] hard. My Alex was already bigger. But Michael was very thick and beautifully shaped down there, and his balls were large and heavy and no doubt aching for release.

Three men were hard, gazing down at the delicate fragile form of a naked thirteen-year-old boy on his hands and knees. Alex was out of his belt too, and his dick was at full staff and bobbing wildly as only a young teen's can. Like Michael, he was still collared and harnessed. I gave his leash a firm tug and he crawled toward me.

Alex licked the pre-cum from my dick. I handed his leash to Robert, who forced him to do the same. Then came Michael's turn to be cleaned. Mike would not take Alex' leash, but he did moan and sigh when the boy's warm mouth engulfed his perpetually frustrated cock. I pulled Alex back sharply and he settled back into his submissive position on all fours.

"Alex. Stay."

The boy did not move. The three of us all stood in front of him now, staring down at him, hard and hungry for this boy, even Robert, whose tastes normally did not run quite so young, but Alex does have a certain affect on people.

"Alex," our host said in his quietly menacing voice, "tonight you will learn more about what it means to be a slave. You are going to be done, boy, and done good. From now until the time we let you go to sleep not one minute is going to pass when you won't have a dick fucking you at both ends, and one of us working that nice young cock of yours. You will be blindfolded. Michael."

The young man handed the leather blinder to me. I knelt in front of my boy. He was already shaking.

"Frightened?" I asked as I lowered the blindfold over his eyes.

"Yes, sir."

Robert was there beside me, and he gently squeezed the boy's shoulders. "We won't let any harm come to you. You are loved, Alex, and you will be loved the way a slave should. Will you trust us?"

"Yes, sirs." His answer was immediate and carried no doubt, fear yes, but no doubt.

As Robert was our host, it was only fair that he take the boy first. Alex gasped in horror when I gave Robert permission to fuck him. I felt so guilty, but Alex needed to learn that being a slave meant his master could share him with others, or give his little ass away. His sole duty was to obey.

"Tell us your safeword, Alex."

"It's butterfly, sirs," he said. His young voice was suddenly very high and trembling.

Robert knelt down in front of him and held the boy's head in his hands. "Listen very carefully, Alex, this is very important. Most of the time you will not be able to speak. If you need to say your word and you can't, tap whoever is in front of you three times on the leg. That's all you have to do and everything stops. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir, thank you, sir."

"This is not about hurting you, or shaming you. This is about training you, young man, to endure things you never thought you could. I'm going to fuck you now, and you are going to give your master a fine sucking."

No more was said. Robert and I took our positions on our knees in front and behind him. Michael dutifully lay on his back and worked his way beneath our boy-on-all-fours. We let him go first, and he gave Alex a slow leisurely stroking, working the thirteen-year-old's foreskin up and down with a firm, milking grip. Alex moaned, and that was my signal to start. He sucked me feverishly for a moment, until Robert carefully but ruthlessly entered him. Then, I'm sure, the boy's entire world turned to madness.

Alex was being plugged at both ends. Robert had taken forceful possession of his sweet young boyhole, with long powerful thrusts of a cock considerably larger and thicker than my own. I was in my boy's mouth, holding his head firmly in my hands as I worked my cock down his throat. I timed my thrusts, so that I entered every time Robert withdrew. It was driving the kid wild. Between the boy's trembling legs, Michael had taken control of Alex' cock, giving him firm, loving strokes, taking him to the edge and then denying him.

"Milk him good, Mike," I ordered. The young man, entirely ignoring his own throbbing erection, did just that. Before long a steady stream of pre-cum was dripping onto the soft mat that covered the floor. Alex moaned and purred and would have shouted had his master's cock not kept him quiet.

After about twenty minutes, Robert and I switched places. Neither of us had cum yet. Alex knew something was happening, but in his blindfold he could not see. We began again. I felt my boy tense, just for a moment, as I pressed my cock deep into his gaping hole, red and ravaged. Robert had indeed torn him just a bit, but there was no bleeding to speak of. In a single thrust I entered him. He whimpered and sobbed, then had his voice abruptly cut off by Robert's giant cock worming down his narrow throat.

"Is he still hard?" I asked Michael as I slid roughly in and out of my boy.

"Yes, sir."

"Keep him that way. Tell me when he cums."

It was perhaps another half-hour of intense fucking before that finally happened. I felt Alex' little ring clench around my cock, he moaned deeply and softly, and the boy's sperm was soon dribbling from his penis onto the floor. Robert got the frantic sucking of his life as Alex once again endured the sensation of cumming without orgasm. The kid was shaking, clawing his hands desperately into the soft mat beneath him. Seeing Alex in his spasmodic sexual frenzy sent Robert and me over the edge. We both came together and filled him from both ends with our seed.

I pulled out slowly. My juices trickled from the boy's gaping hole and ran down his legs. I could see it dripping from his mouth as well. Normally Alex swallowed everything, but he was too frantic and too worn out to bother. My boy remained submissively on his hands and knees, waiting for his masters to take him again. Alex knew we were only just beginning, but we would need a few minutes to recover before we started over, and we were not about to leave him empty. Robert worked a large butt-plug up Alexander's ass, nearly twice the size he was used to. I strapped his gag in place. Through it all, young Alex was completely silent and obedient. To keep him limber while we recharged, Michael was told to take the boy by his leash and lead him around the dungeon on all fours. It was an endearing, and arousing sight.

Michael was very hesitant at first, unsure of this new unfamiliar role he was being asked to play. His position in Robert's house had been unambiguous since he was fifteen years old, but Alex' presence here had abruptly changed that. Among the four of us, there was simply no question that Alex was a bottom of the most profound magnitude, thus young Michael found himself unexpectedly thrust into a dominant role. It made him visibly uncomfortable, but it was utterly impossible to imagine this scene ever being reversed. In any hierarchy of dominance and submission, Alex would always be the last link in the chain.

Hesitance aside, Michael was a faithful and loyal slave, and followed his master's orders without question. And, he did gradually begin to assert himself. Before long he had my young Alex under his firm and strict control, pulling firmly but always gently on the leash, reaching down and giving the thirteen-year-old's cute little ass a nice swat whenever he strayed too far away. I couldn't help but smile.

"Seems Mikey is enjoying himself," I observed.

"I believe he's learning something tonight as well," Robert replied with a certain light in his eyes.

Michael had Alex back in position and waiting for us. The plug came out, the gag came off and we started on him again. Alex had surrendered totally. Even the deepest submissives put up a little instinctual resistance at first, but now he just stayed there on his hands and knees, his only movement resulting from the powerful thrusts of the cocks buried in his mouth and rear end. His only sounds were those deep mournful groans that told me he was in another world.

I lost track of the time, focusing all my thoughts on delaying my next orgasm as long as possible. We probably carried on this way, switching several times, for another two hours. By the end, the boy's arms and legs had turned to rubber. Robert and I held him up as we continued to use him. Alex' strong ecstatic groans were becoming frail whimpers of exhaustion. Finally, as my cock swelled in his throat, I felt three weak little taps on my leg. His hand remained there, gripping tightly to my thigh.

"That's three," I announced.

Immediately we all stopped. With great care and tenderness, Robert gradually pulled out. Alex collapsed on his stomach, splayed out and motionless, unable to even manage a wiggle. He was breathing softly. I left him in his blindfold. Robert and I still had some unfinished business throbbing between our legs.

Michael dutifully offered his mouth. I must confess he is very skilled, though I missed the warmth and smallness of my own boy. He did his master last, and they ended with the rough kiss I'd seen before. Michael was now the only one of us who hadn't spilled his seed in some way, and his cock was still rock-hard. I don't remember him softening even once the entire time.

"May I help him with his little problem, Robert?"

"By all means."

The young man blushed visibly, especially at the word 'little'. There was no denying it though. Compared to the other three cocks in the room, his was the junior member. And I'm sure Alexander's more than generous endowment was a source of embarrassment for him. Being smaller than your master is one thing, being smaller than a boy who was still in middle school was quite another. In truth, Mike's cock, while not large by anyone's measure, was certainly more than adequate, and it was quite thick and meaty, making up in girth what it lost in length, with a perfect curve to it. A beautiful organ. Feeling I'd unintentionally hurt his feelings, I took the eighteen-year-old's penis in my hand and stroked it gently.

"It's really very beautiful, Michael," I said to him. "I think you're perfect the way you are."

Mike smiled at me, and, bless him, he moved close and rested his head on my shoulder as I slowly masturbated him. His really has the perfect cock for a slave. Large enough to have fun with when a master desires it, small enough to simply ignore the rest of the time. I've often wondered why nature saw fit to give Alex such a big one, when his natural tendencies meant that he would be using it so seldom.

It wasn't long before Michael shot into my hand. There wasn't much, and I could see it gave him very little pleasure. Robert had given him a thorough milking not two days earlier.

"I believe slaves should be kept dry," the seasoned master explained. "Makes them much happier when they don't have to think about cumming all the time."

I'm not sure if 'happy' was an accurate description for Michael at that moment. Sexual frustration can become a permanent state of existence if a young man is denied long enough. Robert was clearly taking Michael in a direction that I did not want Alex and I to go, at least not entirely.

Alex was still stretched out on his stomach when we returned to him. I knelt beside him and removed the blindfold, kissing his eyelids tenderly before they fluttered open.

"Feeling okay?" I asked.

He moaned weakly as I took his hand. "Hmmm. Can't move," he whispered.

I began to massage his shoulders. Robert and Michael soon joined me, rubbing Alex' back and his thighs. The boy now had six firm gentle hands caressing him, soothing his tired aching muscles. I rubbed his arms, Michael rubbed his feet, Robert straddled him and pressed his hands into the small of his back. Alex sighed, lost in the simple pleasure of our tender, loving ministrations. Touch has always been important to him, a physical connection to those he loves. He cannot live a day without it.

"Still awake, little man?"

His eyes opened lazily. "Yes, sir."

I got him to his feet. He was often quite talkative after a scene, but not tonight. It was still far too intense for him to make sense of. There had been a darkness in this room, and not because of his blindfold. He felt it surrounding him, and as much as it frightened him, it also compelled him. The boy just gazed at us all sleepily.

"Take him upstairs, Steven," Robert said softly. "I believe he's given us all he has tonight."

Indeed he had. I put my arm around him and together we climbed the steps, leaving Robert and Michael alone. I had a feeling their night was just beginning.

I awoke to that strange feeling that something was missing. I realized it was Alex. He'd fallen asleep in my arms, snoring softly as young boys do, even before I could pull the blankets over us. All night his small, warm, naked body lay next to mine. Its sudden absence was unpleasant. I knew why he was gone, and that only made it colder. He was off by himself, thinking about last night. That meant he'd be wanting to talk about it. I lay back, and a slight shiver crept over me when I recalled what we'd done to him, how harsh and cruel we had been, how relentless, how merciless. And how we'd used him, that was the word, wasn't it?

As I dressed and went off to find him, I had only one thought, one I could not even bring myself to finish. 'Steven, if you've made that boy hate you 3; '

I found him out on the deck. He was naked, leaning his elbows on the wooden rail, gazing off into the woods, still shrouded in morning mist. It was a touching scene, this young boy alone in the wide, wide world. Alex still seemed so small, and everything else so big, yet I knew that deep inside the boy had grown and that the world was no longer so dark and scary to him. After just watching for a moment, I quietly stepped beside him.

"Hey," I finally said, breaking the silence.

"Hey," Alex answered back. "You're up early."

Over the last month I'd come to enjoy making Alex wait in the mornings, leaving him chained to his bed or locked in his cage. Slaves spent a lot of their time just waiting, and it was a lesson Alex had already begun to learn.

"I got lonely," I replied.

Alex yawned. "I just couldn't stay in bed any longer."

"Busy brain this morning?"

"Yep."

"Feel like talking about it?"

Alex gave me a wise look far beyond his years. "You could just make me tell you."

"I could, but I won't."

An unsure smile, then those beautiful thoughtful eyes. "Last night was the hardest thing I've ever done," he said. "I really felt like a slave. I mean, I always do, but last night I was the slave, you know, even to Michael."

"How did that make you feel?"

"Scared at first," Alex replied honestly. "Three masters all at once is tough, but then I got into it. God, you were all so hard on me, and you just kept going after me. I didn't think it was ever going to stop. I 3; I liked being used that way. That's what last night was all about, wasn't it?"

I nodded and put my arm around him. The boy moved closer and pressed his slender naked frame against me.

"Part of me really hated you for letting Robert fuck me, for just 3; just giving me away like that."

"I know, Alex. That's part of what it means to be a slave. You handled it very well."

"I didn't think you'd really let it happen," Alex said. "At first I was waiting for you to stop it. When you didn't, everything just went all crazy. I've never felt that way before, even with all the stuff we've done. It's like I was just 3; " he paused, trying to put the feeling into words, "just a piece of 3; of furniture or something, just a place for you and Master Robert to put your dicks whenever you felt like it."

"Slaves are property, Alex," I reminded him rather coldly.

"And you can do whatever you want with me," he continued on his own. There was that look of needful submission in his eyes again. I was relieved to see it, and ready to take him a little further.

"I certainly can, and I certainly will." I locked my hand around his slender wrist. "And right now you have your morning duties to perform. On your knees."

The boy was down in front of me instantly, reaching out to pull my boxers down.

"Hands behind your back," I said, giving them both a quick slap.

"But how 3;"

"You have a mouth, Alex, don't you?"

"Oh, wow."

"No talking."

Being careful not to bite me, Alex took a mouthful of my boxers and began to tug them down. This was a new level of humiliation for him, and he was breathing hard with excitement. Actually his breathing wasn't the only thing that was hard at the moment. I raised my foot and pressed it roughly into his soft dangly scrotum, feeling his balls retreat against my toes. Alex moaned as the pressure and pain shot through him. Kicking him down there would have simply been brutish. No, a small amount of force, constantly and relentlessly applied, is often the most effective discipline. Even as I toyed with him, he wrapped his warm mouth around my cock and went at it.

"You spilled some last night," I recalled. "Don't do that again."

With his lips encircling my dick he shook his head. It's a beautiful sight, a gentle thirteen-year-old boy with a big throbbing penis in his mouth, impaling his sweet face. His hazel eyes always remained so strikingly innocent in these moments. After just a few minutes, I grabbed him by the ears and came with violent thrusts. Alex gagged and sputtered, but did not let a drop of my seed fall from his lips.

Taking a cue from Robert, I pushed him away harshly. Alex ended up on his back, his legs spread submissively. I worked my foot over his cock, pressing my heel into his balls.

"Does this hurt?"

"Yes, sir," he answered in a strained voice.

I knelt down over him, pressing my knee between his legs, slowly, firmly. Alex writhed and gasped.

"Don't move."

With my knee grinding into his teenaged balls, I worked the boy's nipples, twisting and pinching and flicking them with my fingers until they were hard. His taut muscular stomach was rising and falling in heaving breaths now. I stuck a single finger into his perfect little navel and pressed down hard. Alex growled at me, and his rigid cock surged.

I took my knee away and straddled him now. He gazed up at me with wild and desperate eyes. I love him like this. You can almost smell the sex. I grabbed his penis and stroked it hard and fast.

"Aahh, ahhh, please, please, sir, aaahhh, please, aaaahhhh." Alex thrust his narrow hips madly, and shot his young sperm onto his chest. He lay there motionless. His eyes were closed, a look of satisfaction and joy was written upon his face.

"Very nice, Steven," I heard Robert say with a chuckle.

I looked up to see him standing in the doorway, with a cup of coffee in his hand. I wondered how long he'd been watching us.

"You've got that slave begging you," he said as he joined us and looked down at my prone and freshly drained boy. "Priceless."

"He is that," I replied. Alex managed to prop himself up on his elbows and offered a shy 'good morning' to our host.

"I thought you'd told me no orgasms for the young man," Robert said as we helped Alex to his feet.

"I changed my mind," was the best rejoinder I could come up with. It may have seemed indecisive and unmasterly to Robert, but I had discovered that just keeping Alex from cumming was not really the point, and not really enough for either of us. Denial is not really control. It is simply denial, and it was already becoming too easy for my submissive boy. No, it was time to shift the ground beneath him once again. Making the boy cum, whenever, wherever, and however I felt like it would be the true and final expression of my total control over his sex. I'd always keep him on the edge, but he'd never know from week to week, month to month, or even day to day, if he'd be allowed to have an orgasm or not.

Chastity would still be the general rule for my boy, but already I envisioned weekends where he'd have to keep himself hard and shooting over and over again until his cock was red and raw and sore. Then, I'd put him right back into his belt.

"Twist him around," Robert said, seemingly having read my thoughts and approved. "I like it. And so will you, young man." He raised the boy's eyes to his own with a firm hand under the chin.

Alex stared back at him. "Whatever my master decides for me is best, sir."

The older master laughed and gave my young slave a loving little slap to his face. "Such impertinence today, little one, perhaps we didn't fuck you quite hard enough."

Just the thought of repeating last night's session set the boy's eyes wide and dancing. Fear and desire, it was so arousing watching these two extremes tear him slowly apart.

"Michael is cleaning up the dungeon this morning. May I put this young colt to work in the kitchen?"

"Let me get him harnessed and belted first," I replied. I took Alex by the hand and led him back to the bedroom. Getting him into his gear was still a wonderful moment between us, its routine in no way diminishing the profound meaning of his strict bondage and chastity. Harnessed, belted, always collared. I worked the plug up his ass and strapped it in place. I put his thigh cuffs on as well, just because they made him look so sexy. With his leash in place, I ordered him on all fours and walked him out to the kitchen, where Robert was patiently waiting for him. I noticed a slender riding crop in his hand.

"He's all yours," I said as I handed Robert the boy's leash and tacitly nodded my approval of the crop. "Do whatever Master Robert tells you, Alex."

"Yes, sir."

I returned to the living room to enjoy the magnificent view from the windows, and the fresh coffee awaiting me on the table. I heard Robert order Alex to stand up, the quick swishing of the crop through the air, and Alex' submissive little squeal as it made contact with his rear end. After that I tuned everything out.

Alex was becoming a great little kitchen drudge, and Robert again proved himself a gracious host, fixing an enormous breakfast. We ate together in his sunny kitchen. Alex with his behind nicely reddened, and Michael sat on the floor with their plates in front of them. As Alex was finishing off his third waffle of the morning, I could not help but smile.

"You never made breakfast like this for me when I stayed with you," I said to Robert.

"My dear Steven," he waved a finger at me in admonishment, "you were in no condition for breakfast when you stayed with me."

Alex shot his head up and looked at me with questioning eyes. I'd dropped enough hints over the last two months, and he knew that Robert and I had some sort of past related to my less sober days.

"How much does the boy know?" Robert asked, looking sidelong at Alex.

"Just that you helped me. I've left the rest to his imagination."

Robert laughed and patted Alex on the head. "Keep imagining, boy. You weren't the first member of your family to spend time in my dungeon, just the first one to be fucked there."

Alex winced a little at the memory of last night, then gave me a dark smirk. "You must have really been messed up."

He had no idea. Then again, maybe he did.

After breakfast, Michael returned to the dungeon with Alex in tow. Robert explained to me over a final cup of coffee that a slave should be fully responsible for the care and maintenance of the implements of his own pain and discipline. "Michael is punished severely if I ever find dust or dirt down there. All the leather is to be cleaned and oiled, all the metal to be buffed and polished. Gives the boy a proper perspective. You should put Alex on such a regimen, if you haven't already."

Up until now, creating our dungeon had been a joint effort between man and boy, but now that it was taking shape, it was time to add it to the growing list of Alexander's duties. Robert and I spent the next several hours discussing the finer points of raising a boy slave. Robert had done it successfully, and although Michael had already been a teenager when he took him in, his experiences were still valuable and insightful.

"Alex is very intelligent," Robert reminded me of the obvious, not for the first time, "in a very subtle and devious kind of way. I don't mean that as an insult, it is simply part of his character. I saw it last night. You were ready to give in and let him off the hook 3;"

I shook my head in protest, but Robert stilled me with a masterful stare.

"There is no shame in admitting that you are compassionate and gentle, Steven, even if you are a sadist. The two are not mutually exclusive as some might think. Alex knows it, and he uses it whenever it suits him. You were ready to stop. To hug and hold and keep evil Robert from hurting your sweet and gentle boy. And Alex played you perfectly 3; he had you dancing for him. I could see it in your eyes. It is to your credit that you didn't let him have his way."

"This morning he told me he thought I'd make you stop. He was upset that I didn't."

"So, a little bit of truth from the young man."

"Alex does not lie," I said strongly.

"Of course he doesn't," Robert replied without any sarcasm. "I don't believe he is capable of lying to you, such is his love for you, but he is quite skilled at not telling the truth. Do you see the difference?"

I nodded.

"He keeps his true feelings close to his skin. Every once in a while, he lets you see the depths, but mostly he keeps you at a safe distance. Doesn't he?"

It was true. Alex would embrace all the pain I could give him, but the pain inside his tormented young soul was something he had never truly shared with me. I remembered that day, almost five years ago, when he walked silently beside me, staring up at me with those haunted eyes. There was accusation there and even a little hate, just for a moment. He'd managed to hide it over the years, but I knew it was still there, the feeling, the truth, that the one person in the world who could have saved him from his torment had abandoned him to it instead.

I've come to swear that Robert is a mind reader, at least mine. He took my hand gently and smiled at me, and I could tell by his expression that he understood.

"That is why he has chosen you to be his master. He sees you as his executioner and his savior, all at once. He does hate you, you know, every bit as much as he loves you. It is a paradox he cannot deal with, one he needs you to fix for him."

"A few weeks ago he told me it wasn't my fault 3; that he was abused."

"Naturally. And he wants to believe that, desperately. But he can't. His heart keeps telling him it's a lie."

"How do I fix him?" I asked.

"You already are, Steven. I'm sure he's told you that too."

"He has. 'You're making me better.'"

"And that is the honest truth. Never be afraid to be his master. Never be afraid to be cruel. And never give in to him. He has his safeword, and you have taught him, with some pain, to use it. That is all either of you need. Take him far, Steven, take that boy the very edge of his endurance, and then make him take another step with you. He may stumble, but as long as you are beside him, he will not fall."

"The stallion and the colt," Robert proclaimed with a warm laugh. It was a perfectly fitting description of our handsome pair. And a pair they were, and would be. "We should keep them together as much as possible when we visit my friends tomorrow. They will make quite an attractive spectacle. You will be coming, won't you?"

Another of Robert's now famous inquiries that sounded more like a command. Normally they were, but in this case I knew it was choice that had to be made freely, at least for one of us. One of us, of course, had no choice.

I looked at Alex. By his expression I could tell he'd overheard the end of our conversation. His young eyes were bright, hoping I would say yes.

"No, Master Steven," Robert said to me in his soft, commanding manner. "Do not look at him. This is your decision, not his."

Turning away from my boy, I had to make this momentous choice for both of us. It was actually far easier than I'd expected, now that Robert had stripped away all room for debate. That was his way, I remember it well from times past. He would let you dangle on the edge of indecision for as long as it suited him, and then he would quietly force your hand. Either Alex and I went, or we didn't. I had no time for consequences or compromise.

"I need an answer, Steven."

I'd already made my choice. "We'd be honored."

Under his breath an excited "Yes!" escaped Alex' throat.

I turned and stared at him, and suddenly I was quite angry. I had agonized over this decision for weeks, carefully considering what it might do to him, thinking of the boy's safety, his vulnerability, his fragile youth, thinking of all the terrible things that could go wrong. My entire world it seemed revolved around this boy, my little brother, my sweet intelligent Alex 3; my clever manipulative Alex, standing there celebrating his latest victory, with a rather too smart look on his cute face. He would learn there is a price.

"Robert, I want that boy gagged," I said, letting my displeasure with Alex show, for in that moment it was real. "Something very hard, and very harsh, and right now."

"I have just the thing. Michael, fetch your penis gag, please."

I think Alex expected Mike to plead for him. The crestfallen look on his young face was priceless when the senior slave bowed his head humbly and walked off to follow his master's orders. So, Alex could be surprised. I was beginning to wonder.

Michael was back just a short moment later, with the cruelest gag I had ever seen. It was leather, thick, black and obviously well used. It was almost a muzzle, for when strapped on around the head it would cover the entire mouth. There was a stubby latex cock attached to the inside, three inches [7½ cm] long to stuff a slave's throat and keep him quiet.

Alex eyed it with giddy terror.

I grabbed the gag from Michael's hands and pulled my boy toward me, locking my fingers in an iron grip around his slender right arm. Alex knows when I'm not kidding. He opened his mouth and I forced the gag in swiftly and harshly, making him take all of it at once. I pulled the straps hard around his head and buckled him in as tightly as I could without knocking out any teeth. Alex was terrified. I just made him stand there.

"Shall we take him downstairs," Robert suggested. "I believe our little colt needs a good spanking."

"No," I replied, feeling a satisfying surge of power. "He'd enjoy that too much. Fifty push-ups, Alex. Now!"

I have never seen that boy move so fast. He hit the floor and came right back up with his first push-up. With his strong and firm young muscles he powered easily through the first twenty-five. The second half proved much harder for my growing boy. He was somewhere around thirty when I put my foot between his shoulders, just as he was about to come back up. Alex tried several times to carry out his master's orders, with his master's foot pressing down on his back. He is a strong kid, but no match for a grown man. He was pinned and he knew it. The boy's head was turned to one side, that horrible gag in his mouth contorting his cute features, his right cheek pressed against the rug. Tears were moistening his face.

That was all I wanted to see. I let him go, and he finished his push-ups.

"May I suggest he be hog-tied for a while," Robert said.

I agreed.

"Ever done it to him?" he asked, as Michael was once again sent running. I had. Once, when he was about nine and we were both just horsing around and wrestling, he asked me to tie him up 'real tight and stretchy' in his own words. I put him in a mild hog-tie, and only left him for about fifteen minutes. He loved it and begged me for more. I should have seen all the signs right then and there.

The boy's experience today was going to be quite different. Michael returned with several lengths of rope, thick and unforgiving. Robert and I worked quickly, pulling the thirteen-year-old's arms back as far and hard as we dared, eliciting a painful groan from the gagged boy. We tied his right wrist to his left ankle, and his left wrist to his right, then we wrapped the rope thickly around those slender bound joints. I looped another rope around the boy's elbows and cinched them together as close and tight as I could get them. Then Robert did something that surprised me, and actually frightened me for just a moment. He put his large powerful arms beneath the kid's bound-up wrists and ankles, and actually lifted my hog-tied Alex off the floor. Not even a full inch, but the strain on the boy's muscles must have been unbearable. Alex was screaming into his gag.

"Where would you like him?" Robert asked mischievously over the boy's high-pitched wails.

I looked around the living room, peered into the kitchen, and then let my eyes wander out the windows. The sun was already warm and blazing. It was going to be climbing into the nineties certainly. Robert read the wicked smile on my lips.

"Outside," I said.

Robert kept his grip, and I steadied my boy's shoulders to relieve some of the weight. We carried him gagged and helpless out the front door. Robert's driveway is packed crushed stone, and it was already nice and warm.

"Should I drop him?" the seasoned master asked with a wink that Alex couldn't see.

"Mmmph! Mmmph!" was the boy's frantic response.

"No, just put him down 3; and I don't want to hear another sound from you, little man," I told my boy. All he'd said was one word, but it had been the wrong one, at the wrong time. We left him there to bake in the mid-morning sun. He called after me desperately through his gag. As if they had a will of their own, my feet slowed. I moved to turn back to him, but Robert's hand was there on my shoulder.

"Don't undo what you've done, Steven. This is an important lesson."

We went inside together, and I closed the door.

Alex was alone out there for the first half-hour. After that, Michael or Robert would go out every ten or fifteen minutes to make sure he was not in any real distress. Occasionally I'd gaze out the window and watch him. The boy was bound too tightly to manage any but the smallest movement. He'd lift his head once in a while and strain against the ropes. I knew the crushed stone beneath him was causing a lot of discomfort, that and the fact that he couldn't do a thing about it. Alex would turn his head toward the house every time the door opened, expecting me to come and free him, only to have his hopes dashed when his master did not appear. And so he rested his head on the unforgiving ground once more.

Clouds began to roll in. The day called for afternoon rain. The first drops were just beginning to fall when I finally went outside. Alex had been out there for close to two hours. At first he just stared at me, and made a little motion with his bound wrists, wiggling his fingers. Then his eyes watered when I knelt down and took his head into my hands. He pressed into them, longing and needful of my touch.

"Do you understand?" I asked.

He nodded as the tears began to fall, and he blinked his eyes for me just once. I kissed him on the forehead, then reached behind and loosened the straps. I took the gag out. Alex was silent, and his hazel eyes were fixed on me. I ran my fingers over his arms and legs, feeling the tight strain in his muscles. The rain was falling harder now, a beautiful sight as it danced over his smooth bare skin still hot from exposure to the sun. He was a little red, but it would just serve to darken his already sun-browned tan by the time the day was over.

"Thirsty?" I asked.

Alex opened his mouth to answer me. I gripped his jaw firmly.

"No more talking. Just answer."

He nodded his head yes. I could tell he was close to tears once again. Then he blurted it out. I knew he couldn't help it. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

Just like him to back me into a corner. It was the most sincere apology Alex had ever given me. It was also willful disobedience of the order I'd just given him. I knew what I had to do. I looked at him softly and stroked his chestnut- brown hair, wet with sweat and new-fallen rain. Then I put the gag back in his mouth and buckled it behind his head. I will never forget his eyes in that moment. Ever.

"You're forgiven, Alex," I said. I turned around and left my boy once more, alone in the rain.

I was crying when I reached the front door. Robert took my hand, then put his arms around me in a gentle hug.

"What did he say?" he asked, gazing over my shoulder at the hog-tied boy lying naked in the rain.

"He said he was sorry, Robert." I nearly lost it right there.

"Did he mean it?"

"Of course he did."

Robert's gray eyes became thoughtful. "Ten more minutes in the rain, just enough to make him think you won't be back. Then bring him inside. I won't advise you about the gag, that's something between the two of you. I'll be with Michael in the study. Bring him with you once you've got him dried off."

And then he turned and left me. Alex and I were both alone now.

Ten minutes felt like ten hours. Finally I opened to door and stepped out into the rain. The first rolls of the thunder could be heard in the distance. I came back to him. He was drenched and miserable and shaking. The ropes were wet and slick, and I had a little trouble getting them off. I untied his elbows first, then his wrists and ankles. With a soft groan he tried to roll himself onto his back. Gently I helped him. His frequent attempts to get loose had earned him a few scratches from the coarse stones beneath him. They were mostly on his stomach, which had been pressed against the ground the entire time. He winced when I ran my fingers over the red and irritated skin.

"Let's get you up."

Alex sniffled and did his best, but his arms and legs wouldn't cooperate. He looked at me helplessly. With my hands under his arms I pulled him to his feet. He wrapped his arms around me immediately and would not let go. Our walk back to the house was slow, despite the rain.

I took him to our bedroom and dried him off. The boy was utterly limp in my arms as I rubbed him with plush towels. When I was finished, I let him put his shorts on over his belt. After lying there in the rain, I knew some real clothing would feel good to him. His eyes smiled at me, softly.

"Let's try one more time," I said, and I reached behind his head and undid the buckles. The gag dropped from the thirteen-year-old's mouth.

"Now, I want you to be quiet for the rest of the day," I explained as I held him. "That means no talking. Understood?"

Alex nodded and wiped his eyes again.

"If you need something, show me with your hands, if you absolutely can't, then ask me for permission to speak. Remember I don't have to say yes."

Alex nodded.

"If you use any other words, or make any other sound, the gag goes back in." I held it up to him. My boy took a little step back. Was he actually cringing just from the sight of it? "I don't think you'd want to sleep in this, would you?"

He shook his head emphatically. Alex really and truly hated that gag. Naturally, through Robert's generosity, it was added to our permanent collection that night.

Alex then got a thoughtful look on his face. He shuffled away, still nursing his sore and aching joints. There was paper and pen on the desk in the room and he started writing. The boy came back just a few moments later and handed a note to me.

'What about my safeword?' he'd written in his undisciplined youthful style.

I laughed and gave him a little swat on his behind. "That's probably cheating, but since you're so clever I'll let it go. And don't worry. I promise we won't do anything today that would make you need to use it. You have your master's word."

Bending his leg up, he used his thigh as a writing surface and scribbled 'Good enough for me.'

"Alright, no more paper, kiddo. I'll have to put mittens on you next."

His eyes got that wicked light in them that told me he liked the idea very much. We hugged, and shared a kiss, and then, making him carry the gag, the boy followed me silently into Robert's study. We were going to be taking a very large step tomorrow, and I imagined Robert had a lot he needed to tell us.

The older man's bearded face betrayed a brief smile when he saw thirteen-year-old Alex in his silky soccer shorts. He also noticed the light scratches on my boy's stomach.

"I'll give you some ointment for him before you put him to bed," Robert said to me. "So, young man, have you learned your lesson?"

Alex nodded his head sharply.

"Answer me when I ask you a question, boy!" Robert yelled, giving me a knowing wink.

Alex looked at me in confused terror. I gave his little butt another pat. It was every bit as cute under the blue shorts as it was bare.

"He's not allowed to speak, Master Robert," I said, letting my boy off the hook, "or make a sound." On my instructions, Alex handed the gag to Robert for safekeeping.

"Ah. Wonderful. He was getting a little too cheeky for his own good." All of this was for Alex' benefit and he blushed accordingly. "I am glad you've decided to straighten him out. We'll just keep this close by, in case he forgets his place again." He laid the gag in plain view on the table beside the sofa.

Robert and I then relaxed in our comfortable chairs. Michael and Alex were instructed to seat themselves on hard tall wooden stools directly in front of us. Michael had been trained to do this since he was fifteen, for Alex it was an awkward moment and he struggled to find his balance. Michael reached out an arm to steady his junior companion.

"Let him figure it out on his own, Michael, " I said.

It didn't take long for the kid to find his balance. He was so cute, with his strong and slender legs bent up and spread, and his fast-growing teenaged feet curled around the wooden rungs. Alex copied Michael's posture exactly, sitting up straight with his hands on his knees. Robert and I couldn't help but smile at our attractive young slaves.

Robert's visage then became somber and serious and he addressed Alex in his soft, scholarly way. "There are some things we must discuss, Alex, rules and behavior you must learn tonight and remember. Tomorrow will be your first time among masters and slaves you don't know."

The boy looked at me in anxious excitement.

"I need your attention, young man," Robert said sternly.

Alex quickly straightened up again and locked his hazel eyes on him.

"Good. I will not repeat myself. Rules are for your own protection, Alex, so you won't wander into trouble."

The boy nodded and kept his eyes fixed on Robert.

"First, you will not speak. I'm rather glad you are learning that lesson today, it will help you a great deal tomorrow. If a master says hello to you, or remarks how cute you are, or asks you a simple question, you may acknowledge him with your eyes, and nod your head. If a master asks you anything more complicated than that, he is testing you. Do not answer. He knows such questions should be addressed to your master, not you. Look over at Steven immediately. He will answer for you."

Alex nodded that he understood.

"Intelligent boy. Oh," Robert asked tenderly, "how old are you now?"

I saw the wheels turning in the boy's eyes. A soft smirk crossed his lips and he looked directly at me. I smiled. "He's thirteen, Robert."

Our friend and mentor laughed. Michael chuckled too. "Score one for you, little colt," Robert said. "Don't forget. You will be tested many times tomorrow."

Alex swallowed hard and looked a little frightened by that.

"Don't be afraid, son," Robert said. "All three of us will be there to help you, but a slave is responsible for his own behavior. Our expectations are high. Now, I understand Master Steven has given you orders not to bow your head. That's fine, but it will make life difficult for you tomorrow. There will be times, my dear boy, when you will wish you could keep your eyes on the ground. But you will not do that. If a master chooses to study you, you will return his gaze. Show him respect. I do not want to see that same defiance I saw when you and I were in the kitchen this morning."

"Alex!" I confess I shouted at him. The boy actually blushed in embarrassment.

"Nothing the riding crop could not correct, Steven. Perhaps some additional spankings before bed will serve as penance."

"You can count on that."

Robert continued. "Always stay close to your master, Alex. That is very important. If you forget or break every other rule we give you, do not forget that one. If you should get separated 3; and I know a few masters who may try to do that to you 3; look for me or Michael. We will take care of you until Steven finds you. Samuel Collins will also be there. He can help you as well."

There was true fear in the boy's eyes now for the first time, and he was beginning to understand just how dark and serious tomorrow's adventure would be. Robert went on, more slowly, and more gently. Alex was starting to tremble.

"Most of the masters you will meet are good people, Alex. They will be amazed at how much you've learned in such a short time. They will recognize that you are young and make certain allowances for you. They would die to protect you if they thought you were in danger, just as Steven and I would do. However," and his voice was filled with menace and warning, "there are others who are not so good, others I suspect would enjoy hurting a cute young boy. You will be in your belt and plugged the entire time, but a clever master knows ways to get at you even if he does not hold your keys. Be careful. Do not flirt. That's how little boys get raped. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

Alex gasped and nodded sharply. That ugly word stung him and brought back terrible memories. He was squirming uncomfortably on his stool.

"Just because you're a slave, it does not mean you don't deserve respect. In fact, you deserve respect because you're a slave. Understand?"

The boy nodded his head and blinked. A little tear fell from the corner of his right eye.

"No one has a right to touch you, or make you do anything, without your master's permission. Not even me. Do you need to wipe your eyes?"

Alex nodded again.

"Go ahead. Take some time to compose yourself."

Alex stood up and got a tissue. I wanted to pull him into my arms and hug him, but it didn't feel right. Tenderness would offer him too quick and too easy an escape. This was rough ground for him, with more to come, and he had to find a way to navigate it on his own. He would always be submissive. I did not want him to be dependent. I did smile at him, then gestured him back to his stool.

Robert went on to explain that there would be sex, a great deal of it, some of it very hard and very nasty. Alex would participate in as much or as little of it as I desired. The boy shivered. I leered at him playfully.

"You will meet experienced sadists, Steven. I will introduce you. They can teach you to inflict unimaginable pain on Alex, without fear of causing him permanent damage."

Alex nearly fell off his stool hearing that. Robert chuckled lightly. "That got his attention, didn't it?"

Unable to apologize, Alex awkwardly got himself back into the proper position.

"Now, dear boy, you will encounter many slaves with modifications. Do you know what that means?"

Alex thought for just a second, then rubbed his thumb and index finger over the gold ring in his ear.

"Excellent. You have sharp instincts, boy, but an earring is common these days. You've had yours since you were how old?"

The boy almost slipped and answered Robert's question, but he quickly caught himself and turned his face to mine.

"Alex got pierced when he was nine," I replied.

Robert clapped his hands. "You are becoming quite good at this, Alex."

My sweet boy nodded his head, and his eyes beamed with pride.

"Well, you will be seeing more than a few earrings, I can tell you that. Things in places you might not want to think about. You will be a curious boy, I know, but do not stare. That would be rude." Robert then turned to me. "I am not a practitioner myself. I like Michael just as he was made. Our friend Samuel Collins occupies the other extreme. In fact I believe he will be continuing young Sebastian's transformation this weekend. Everyone will be invited to witness it."

I wondered what lay in store for that boy. I would have felt sorry for him, but he was so undeniably thriving and happy when we met him. Alex had pain, and Sebastian had his rings. It seemed each boy had what he most desired. I have to confess I was looking very much forward to seeing him again.

With Alex forbidden to speak, lunch was a quiet affair. Michael was under no such orders, but he is a young man of few words to begin with, really the opposite of Alex. You often had to order him to say something, just to make sure he was still in the room. It is interesting how some slaves tend to fade into the background, as Michael does, while others stand out as though a thousand spotlights were shining on them. Alex certainly fit the latter category, my little showman.

The afternoon was spent drilling Alex on his positions, until he could move from one to the other rapidly and gracefully. Robert also showed me a proper sitting posture, for those rare instances when Alex might be allowed to use a chair. Under Robert's guidance, I also, for the first time, attached a short chain between the boy's thigh cuffs, severely limiting his ability to walk. We chained his ankle cuffs together as well and made him practice walking from the kitchen to the study like that for nearly two hours. For the first hour, his arms were free, for the second, I bound them tightly behind his back using one of our host's leather bondage sleeves. I'd heard about these things, but never seen a real one. Once it was laced up, the boy's arms encased within it were completely immobilized. Nasty and harsh.

Alex loved it.

It did affect his balance at first, but he quickly got used to it. His gait remained adorably awkward, but that was the point.

"You're doing great, Alex," I said.

"Thanks!" he replied without thinking. His eyes grew wide before the word had even finished coming out of his mouth.

"Did you hear something, Robert?" I asked wickedly.

"Yes indeed I did." He already had the gag in his hand. "Come here, Alex. This instant."

Alex looked over at me, and my expression told him he was to follow Robert's orders. My thirteen-year-old moved as fast as he could with his ankles and thighs chained together. The look of contrition upon his sweet face was endearing.

"Don't disobey by apologizing," Robert said. "Just open your mouth and accept your punishment."

Alex did as he was told, and the gag was strapped around his head again. I did notice that Robert had made it somewhat less tight than the times before.

"That's a good boy. Now, I believe your little infraction calls for another hour of training. Steven?"

"By all means. Start marching, Alexander."

My boy nodded his head slowly and returned to his task. Robert leaned over to me. "I honestly believe you should keep Alex gagged as a matter of course from now on. I have an inflatable version of the one he's wearing. It would cause him somewhat less discomfort."

I confess I loved the sound of my boy's voice. Alex needed to learn his place, but I did not like the idea of a silent house. I told Robert I would consider his suggestion, my polite way of telling him no, but I was very interested in the gag he had mentioned. My boy's comfort and well being was important to me after all.

When Alex had finished his last hour of practice, we escorted him and Michael to the dungeon. There we strapped them down facing one another on the large punishment bench. Alex remained gagged of course, and Michael soon found a bit in his mouth, well marked by his own teeth, his favorite I would later learn.

"Paddles, Master?" Robert asked with a gleam in his eye that told me he was in a mood for inflicting pain, hard and slow and long into the night.

"Oh, I definitely think paddles."

Our two boys moaned in fear and delight and squirmed in their bonds as we chose our respective instruments of discipline and approached them. At first we alternated, so that the two lovebirds could enjoy the grimaced expressions on each other's face. Alex, bless his heart, tried desperately to remain silent as I reddened his thirteen-year- old ass with the thick heavy paddle. The effort was having an unpleasant affect on him. He cringed visibly each time he sensed it coming, something he normally did not do.

"I know it's hard, sweetie," I said to him while Michael was getting his. "You may cry into your gag, if you need to."

He needed to. And he did. It was a beautiful sound.

Once we'd gotten them nice and red, we began to deliver our blows in unison, striking our boys with simultaneous fury. And fury was the word. It was a slow, measured beating, but certainly the hardest I'd yet given my boy. Looking over at Michael and Robert, I sensed they were both just warming up. Michael was groaning softly, but his distress came mostly from the tears he was forced to watch falling from Alexander's young eyes.

They were close enough that with some effort they could press their foreheads together. When they did, Robert and I actually had to stop for a moment. Such a beautiful gesture of love and support they were sharing. We could actually feel it there in the room with us, and we both touched our hands gently to their cheeks. Then we resumed our positions and laid into the boys with renewed vigor, their innocent passion for one another stirring the darkest passions in us. Alex was howling in his gag and writhing in his bonds. Michael's reaction to discipline, as in all things, was considerably more subdued. To be honest, I don't believe Michael needs pain the way Alex does, it is just something the young man endures because he is a slave, and because he is utterly devoted to his master.

After a while Alex too began to quiet down, modeling Michael's behavior and maturity. Having the young man to look up to and admire was a great benefit for Alex. During the wild and amazing teen years that would follow, he would often say, 'If Mike can take, I can take it.' And he would. In a strange way, Michael was training him every bit as much as I was.

"Good boy, Alex," I said as I continued to turn his behind a nice shade of purple.

"I want these rear ends glowing tomorrow, Steven," Robert said to me as he took up the cane and administered a slow methodical series of stinging blows. Alex could hear it swishing ominously through the air, he could feel Michael jerk against his bonds in anticipation, then the crack on soft bare skin, and of course the young man's agonized groans filling his ears.

Mike was sobbing quietly when it was over. Then Robert placed the cane in my own hands. "Give Alex three. One for being defiant this morning, one for talking out of turn, and one to remind him never to do either again."

I took a long hard look at the slender rod. It seemed so innocuous, yet I knew it could inflict unspeakable damage in the wrong hands. I had doubt. For the first time in weeks I had doubt about doing something to my boy. From the bench, Alex was staring at the cane with unmasked terror. His abusers had used coat hangers, rulers, and electric cords, so he knew the deep pain that could come from harmless- looking things.

Alex' eyes pleaded with me.

"Not yet, Robert," I said. "He's not ready for this."

"Alex will never be ready for this," my old friend replied. "Was he ready for it when he was five? Or six? Or seven?"

I looked away from them both.

"That's not fair, Robert, and it's not the same."

"Of course it's not fair!" Robert said with uncharacteristic emotion. "And of course it's not the same. That's why it must be done, and done now. It will just keep eating him up, Steven, a little bit more each day, each month. He's come so far. Don't abandon him now. Be strong for both of you, and do what must be done."

With the cane still in my hand, I knelt down and looked my sweet Alex in the eye. The boy was bravely trying not to cry, but I knew he was scared.

"Just three, Lexi," I said, using his family nickname I hadn't called him since he was eight. "That's all." He closed his eyes. I walked behind him. "How?" I asked Robert.

"Place the cane against his behind."

I did.

"Draw it back slowly."

I did.

"Return it, slowly."

I did.

"Do that five more times until you get the feel of it."

After five I was ready.

"Draw it back again, and let it go. Don't put too much force into it. The cane works all by itself."

I drew the slender cane back and brought it down. It sang as it cut through the air. If he had not been strapped down, Alex would have been airborne. His entire body jerked in a violent spasm and he shrieked into his gag.

"Not so hard, Steven," Robert corrected me gently over the boy's frantic cries.

I gave him his second one, not so severe as my first. Still he tensed and shouted and looked back at me with weeping eyes. The third and final blow cut across his behind evenly. His muffled scream was so high-pitched that it finally became inaudible. Tears streaked the boy's face when I came around to him, but there was also a look of deep pride in his eyes, as one who has endured great trial and come through it with newfound strength.

"We should let him rest for a while," Robert said as he stroked the boy's short matted hair. He released Michael from his restraints and removed the bit from his mouth. The young man was visibly shaken at bearing witness to Alexander's torment. He and Robert exchanged a brief whisper. "May Michael give Alex a kiss?"

"I would never deny them," I said.

Mike knelt beside the boy and kissed him tenderly on the forehead, and then the cheek. Alex moaned softly into his gag. We didn't rush them. Finally Michael stood up, and together we made our way to the door. Robert was about to turn off the lights, but I stopped him.

"No. Please. I can't bear to think of him alone in the dark right now. He needs the light."

Robert smiled and nodded. It would not have been his choice, but I was pleased and proud that he respected mine.

I brought Alex upstairs for dinner. He was sore and tender, but the panic that had gripped him earlier had passed. There was that light in his eyes, tempered a bit by the pain, but clear and vibrant. He had worked something out in his head, and let go of yet another piece of his childhood trauma.

The boy was delighted to find pizza waiting for him in the kitchen. With our host's Epicurean tastes, I was a bit surprised when Robert himself picked up the phone and ordered it.

"Sometimes the old favorites are still the best," he said whimsically. "And besides, Alex deserves a little reward. We've worked him hard this weekend, and there's much more to come."

Alex blushed shyly.

I allowed Michael the honor of removing the boy's gag, but I did not permit them to embrace. Alex' rear end was too purple and much too sore for him to sit on the floor, so he was given permission to remain standing while he ate, on the condition that he stay at attention the entire time. His knees locked, his back arched, his shoulders square, his face forward. The only part of him he was allowed to move was his left arm with which he fed himself.

With a ravenous thirteen-year-old in our company, the food disappeared at an alarming rate.

"He must be eating you out of house and home," Robert laughed good-naturedly. I was forced to agree with his observation. We had pretty much left an empty refrigerator behind us. Alex for his part just cracked a little smile and grabbed another slice of pizza.

I gave him a sharp smack to this thigh. "You're slouching. Stand up straight."

Alex corrected himself instantly.

"Don't you think it's time you shaved that boy, Steven?" Robert asked, looking Alex up and down and resting his gray eyes between the thirteen-year-old's legs. "He's got a nice little bush now. About a month's worth, right, boy?"

Alex nodded somberly, knowing very well what would be happening to him after dinner. His pubic hair had thickened quite a bit from those first few wispy strands of early summer. It was still sparse and soft, light brown in color, but undeniably noticeable. And it most definitely had to go.

Fifteen minutes later we had Alex back in the dungeon. He stood shaking and naked, freed of his belt, his cuffs and his collar, holding his arms above his head as ordered. His cock was soft and dangling heavily between his legs. With our eyes and our hands, Robert and I inspected his young body from head to toe, looking for any signs that my boy was starting to grow hair. His legs, his ass, his pale white armpits, his upper lip, and everywhere and everyplace in between. Aside from a few blond hairs circling his ankles, and of course the downy growth above his cock, Alex was still smooth and hairless.

"When he gets his first hairs on his ass, I will

recommend electrolysis," Robert proclaimed. "Dr. Collins can put you in touch with a gentlemen who is quite skilled at making it quite painful. Michael was done when he was sixteen, weren't you dear?"

"Yes, master." The young man cringed at the memory.

"And he's barely sprouted a single hair since. And I just pluck those out."

The look on Alex' face told me he was not too happy about the prospect of losing what little hair he'd just started to grow. Yet he obeyed without hesitation when he was ordered to sit in one of Robert's restraint chairs, visibly relieved when he learned it would not be the one with the seven-inch [18 cm] dildo screwed to the seat.

Michael tightened all the straps for us, leaving the boy immobilized. Alex could wiggle his fingers and his toes, but that was all. There was even a leather strap for his forehead, which helped keep him in the proper posture. He could follow us with his soft hazel eyes, but he could not turn his head nor look down to see what was being done to him. He could hear the buzzing of the shaver, and feel it against his abdomen.

It only took a single pass and his precious pubic hair was gone. Alex had had it for exactly one month, and would never have it again.