Date: Thu, 10 Oct 2002 21:11:10 -0400 From: istari <email@example.com> Subject: Mastering Alex 23 The following story describes the evolving relationship between and man and a thirteen-year-old boy. It is the story of a safe, loving, consensual, dominant/submissive relationship and does contain scenes of bondage, sado- masochism, etc. If that sort of thing makes you uncomfortable, please stop reading. This story is utter fiction, the product perhaps of my own childhood fantasies, and nothing more. Just a note to all of Alex' loyal fans. I know it has been a few weeks since the last installment, and many of you have written wondering if I'd stopped writing. Well, the answer is no, but I need to take my time and do this right. Please be patient. Much more of Alex and his friends is planned and forthcoming. In the meantime, enjoy this latest chapter in his ongoing adventures. Comments are welcome at firstname.lastname@example.org Mastering Alex Chapter 23: Discipline. Michael and Alex returned from their morning labors in the dungeon. It was a sweet scene, watching the thirteen- year-old practically skip along behind the young man, adoration in his hazel eyes. "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 . . . 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 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 . . . 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 . . . and I know a few masters who may try to do that to you . . . 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 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.