Date: Sat, 7 Sep 2002 05:03:42 -0400
From: istari <istari@blazenet.net>
Subject: Mastering Alex 7 - 9

The following story describes the evolving relationship
between and man and a soon-to-be 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.


Comments are welcome at istari_olias@hotmail.com


Mastering Alex

Chapter 7: The Measure of a Boy

      Alex was a total mess when he came down to breakfast
the next morning. He was still in his shirt and jock from
the day before. His hair was all this way and that, short
though it was, and there were dark circles under his eyes.
Like a zombie he marched to the table where his cereal and
toast awaited.
     "Sit down," I told him.
     The boy slumped into his chair, squirming around to
find a comfortable position for the plug in his young ass.
     "I had a wet dream last night," he told me. "I tried to
stop it, but I couldn't. It's all crusty down there now."
     Smiling, I patted him on the head. "I figured you'd
have one. That should take the edge off for a while. How are
you doing otherwise?"
     He winced a bit as he wiggled again. "This thing's
driving me crazy. It doesn't really hurt though. Just makes
me feel full. My dick's leaking."
     "It's supposed to be. Have you had a piss yet this
morning?"
     "No. I have to ask, right?"
     "Right," I said, sipping my coffee. "Do you need one?"
     "So bad I can taste it," Alex replied.
     I gave him an evil grin. "Don't give me any ideas,
squirt."
     He scrunched up his face in disgust, but I saw his eyes
dancing with the possibility. In a small voice he asked me.
"You wouldn't really make me drink it, would you?"
     "I could. After all you're a slave. If I told you to do
it, you would."
     The boy put down his toast and looked at me with a
worried expression. "I don't think I'm ready for that kind
of stuff."
     "You'd say no to me?"
     This was important ground we were covering, quite
unexpectedly, and I wondered what his answer would be, and
how I'd handle it. Finally, with a look of guilt on his
face, he nodded his head and a soft 'yes' escaped his lips.
"I'm sorry."
     "Don't be," I said, reaching across the table and
taking his hand. "Your being a slave doesn't mean I can
abuse you, or do things you really don't want. If you ever
get frightened, I want you to tell me no."
     Relief filled Alexander's eyes and he left his chair to
hug me. I guess I should have scolded him for getting up
without permission, but then I didn't really want a robot
around the house needing orders for everything. I held him
tightly.
     "I think we need a new rule, don't you?"
     He agreed and went off to fetch his paper from
yesterday. We then sat down together to think it through.
     "This is an important one, isn't it?" he asked.
     "It is. Most of these are about what you can't do. But
you need some rights too."
     "How 'bout, 'I am allowed to tell my master no, if I
get really scared.' Does that work?"
     "I like it. This afternoon, we'll ask Robert how he and
his slave handle things like that."
     "Robert has a slave?"
     "I think that's going to be 'Master Robert' to you,
from now on, and yes he does. He never brings him along when
he visits."
     "Is that why you never took me with you before?"
     "Precisely, Watson. Didn't think you were ready to see
that."
     "How old is he?" Alex asked undeterred. "What's his
name?"
     "He's eighteen, his name is Michael, and don't you
think you've spoken out of turn long enough?"
     "Oops! Sorry, sir," he said.
     A little smack on his bare behind was his punishment.
"Now, let's get your bladder taken care of before you
burst."
     He rushed to the toilet the moment we reached the
bathroom.
     "Hold on, Alex. First things first. Bend over."
     The boy dutifully bent at the waist and grabbed his
ankles again, knowing well what was coming. His instincts
were sharp. He won't always need to be told. I liked that.
Wrapping an arm around his waist, I took hold of the end of
the plug with my free hand. I pulled it out with slow but
insistent force. Alex gasped and whimpered. When it was
halfway out of him, I held it there. In that position, his
body's natural instinct was to slurp it back in, but the
strength of my hand kept it right were it was, stretching
him wide. Alex' knees buckled and his legs turned to rubber.
     "Aw, god, awww!" he cried.
     With a swift motion I gave it a sharp tug and the plug
slipped right out. It was surprisingly clean, just a thin
brown juice, the same that was now running down his legs. I
put his plug in the sink and told him to strip. With his
eyes still moist he obeyed, skinning out of his two-day old
shirt and jock. He was soft, but his balls were swinging low
and ready. I cupped them gently and rolled his young nuts
between my fingers. Alex moaned and licked his lips.
     "How does it feel inside?"
     "Empty, and kind of squishy."
     "On the toilet, young man," I said.
     The realization that I was going to watch him piss and
take a shit struck him suddenly and he stared at me with
that same giddy, excited, frightened expression I'd seen so
much of these last few days. Nothing happened.
     "What's wrong?" I asked playfully.
     "Geez, man, I can't do it with someone watching me."
     "Well you're going to have to get used to it. Besides,
what's the big deal? You walk around naked in front of me
with all your parts hanging out, you've had my dick up your
ass and in your mouth. I've seen about all of you there is.
Think about it."
     Alex smiled from the toilet and I could see him start
to relax. A nice stream of piss began to splatter in the
bowl, and then, with a little grunt he emptied his bowels.
He looked up at me sheepishly as the strong odor filled the
room.
     "Damn!" I said, waving my hand in the air. "No human
being should smell like that!"
     When he was done wiping, I had him present himself to
me again, to make sure he was clean. A nice pink hairless
hole greeted my inspection.
     "Spotless," I proclaimed. He laughed. "Wash off your
plug, I'm not doing that for you."
     The boy trotted over to the sink and ran the water,
soaping up his hands. If cleaning his own juice off the plug
bothered him, he didn't let on. Finished, he dried it with a
towel and handed it back to me with anticipation in his
eyes.
     "Not just yet. Let's shower first."
     Young Alexander's face lit up at the suggestion. I ran
the water for us while he laid out the towels. Things were
warm but not too steamy. I stripped as he looked on, then I
took his hand and together we stepped in and drew the
curtain. Alex stood under the stream, and I felt my heart
pounding as I watched the water run down his smooth hairless
body, forming little rivulets upon his skin. It was slowly
wetting his hair, turning it a dark, dark brown, and running
down now upon his face. With two fingers under his chin I
lifted his eyes to my own.
     "You're so beautiful," I said, overwhelmed by the small
presence of this gentle loving boy as he stood there,
shivering slightly in spite of the warmth of the water. He
smiled at me, the biggest, happiest smile I'd ever seen him
give.
     "What is it?" I asked.
     "This is the first time we've done this since I was
like three."
     Amazingly it was true. We'd practically lived naked in
this house for the past few years, but for some silly reason
bath time had always been a private thing. I remembered that
ritual from long ago, big brother giving little brother his
bath. Mom and dad were happy for the break, and little Alex
was always wound up with excitement, and hard as a rock, or
maybe a pebble back then. Anyway, I was always the one who
got the most water on him as he splashed and giggled.
     "You used to give me soap-sud beards, remember?" he
asked. There was a look of faraway longing in his young
hazel eyes.
     "I remember. Then I'd put you in your pj's and read you
     a story."
     "Sometimes we'd both fall asleep," he continued our
     memory.
     "Then mom would come in and cover us up."
     Alex sniffled. Was he starting to cry? The water
running down his face from the shower made it impossible to
tell. "I really miss them," he said in a stricken voice.
"But," he turned his eyes away and didn't continue.
     "Tell me," I said as gently as I could.
     "I'm having a hard time remembering what they look
like. I have to look at their pictures now, or I forget.
Does that make me a bad person?"
     I pulled him close and he pressed his head to my chest.
"You were so young when they died. You don't have many
memories to start with. That's just how it is, I guess. You
look a lot like her, you know."
     "Do I?" he said gazing up at me with our mother's eyes.
     "Makes it real hard to fuck you, that's for sure."
     He smiled a little, but I could tell this was no time
for laughter. "If they were still alive, do you think I'd be
different?"
     "Would you want to be?"
     "I don't know. Like you said, it's just how it is."
     I ran my fingers through his wet hair and kissed him on
the forehead. "Want to know what I think?"
     Alex nodded that he did.
     "I think you'd still be smart as a whip, and kind, and
gentle. You'd still be the best kid in the whole world, as
far as I'm concerned."
     He hugged me a little tighter. "Would I . . . be all
the other things too?"
     "Probably."
     That seemed to make him feel better. Slowly the sadness
faded as we leisurely washed each other. I soaped him up
first, relishing in his smooth warm skin and his lean,
muscular frame. I tweaked his nipples and gave them both a
little squeeze. He stood up on his toes and took in a sharp
breath, but not a sound came forth. I jiggled his young
balls. The water had made them hang even lower in their
hairless sac, now silken and dark red from the heat. I
stroked him to erection, then knelt before him. It may not
have been something a master should do, but it just felt
right.
     I'd only been sucking him for a few minutes when he
curled his little toes and came in my mouth, gasping and
grunting and filling me with his immature seed. Its taste
was strangely sweet. I stood again when I was finished. Alex
looked up at me with dreamy eyes, then dropped to his knees,
the water rolling off his shoulders and back. His small
hands caressed me, and he took me into his mouth. I steadied
him, but let him do the work for both of us. It wasn't long
before he'd brought me to the edge. He was intent and didn't
realize the effect he was having. I put one hand behind his
head, pressing him forward.
     "I'm going to cum now," I told him. "I'm going to cum
in your mouth, Alexander. Swallow it."
     Unable to hold back any longer, I shot jet after jet
into his small, warm mouth. I could see his eyes widen as I
filled him up. Dutifully he swallowed, not spilling a
precious drop of my fluid, then looked up at me with just a
little pride.
     "I like making you feel good," he said in a sleepy,
satisfied voice.
     "You do a very good job of it," I complimented him.
Alex was about to stand up again, but I held him down with
gentle pressure on his shoulders. "Stay on your knees and
wash me."
     "Yes, sir." Alex just seemed to know when to call me
that, and his mood became instantly subdued. A certain tone
in my voice, a certain manner in my expression held a deep
and instant power over him. The boy went about his task with
single-minded focus.
     The touch of his young hands on my skin was light and
sure. It was ecstasy when he washed my legs.
     "May I stand up to do the rest of you?" Alex asked with
his head bowed.
     Gently I lifted his chin with two fingers. "I want you
to look at me when you speak. You have nothing to be ashamed
of. Never hide your eyes from anyone."
     Alex gave me a quick smile. "Yes, sir."
     I could see a question brewing in those hazel orbs.
"Tell me."
     "Well, sir, that doesn't seem like something a slave
should do."
     I raised him to his feet. "It probably isn't, Alex. But
you and I are going to do things differently. I always want
you to be proud. Maybe, sometimes, I'll want you to keep
your eyes down, but only when I tell you, got it?"
     He nodded and finished his task. I hugged him close, as
the water fell upon us.
     "Ready to get out?"
     "Yeah, I'm all pruny."
     I made Alex remain dripping wet while he dried me, then
he dried himself under my watchful eyes. He hung up the
towels as instructed, then shifted his attention to the butt-
plug, clean and waiting by the sink. The boy's expression
was a perfect mix of desire and dread. I knew he wanted it,
I also knew it was already a powerful symbol of his humility
and submission.
     "How does that make you feel?" I asked. "Not just down
here," I tenderly caressed his round behind.
     Alex was silent for a while. He was just staring at it,
and considering all these new and confusing sensations his
young body was experiencing. Finally he turned and looked at
me, just as I'd told him to do. His expression was serious.
     "It makes me feel like I have to cum, all the time, but
also that I don't want to. I mean, like needing to cum is
better than really doing it. It's like my dick is saying one
thing, and the rest of me is saying something else. That
doesn't make any sense, does it?"
     Just talking about it was making him hard again. There
he stood shamelessly bobbing and throbbing, pre-cum oozing
from his slit.
     "Actually it makes perfect sense," I said, flicking his
rigid young boner with my finger. "We're going to train that
dick of yours."
     Alex looked at me with wild eyes. "How?"
     "You'll find out."
     He seemed disappointed that he'd have to wait, but I
had an idea that would drag him along for a while and give
him a little taste of what was to come.
     "Take the plug to your bedroom with you. Put it on your
nightstand then lie down, face up. Don't touch yourself.
I'll be in shortly."
     He made a cute little bow then marched off to follow
orders, grabbing up the metal butt-plug as he went. Alex
caressed it as if were made of some precious substance.
Quickly I got dressed then went down to the basement to find
something I might use on him. Naturally I didn't have any
bondage gear for the kid yet, but I managed to find some
soft old rope wound up in a darkened corner. I laid it out
on the floor and cut it to more appropriate lengths. Before
I turned off the single overhead light I paused and looked
around. I hadn't been down here in an age, but I instantly
knew this was going to be the perfect place for us, the
perfect place for Alexander.
     It's an old house, like I said, and the basement is
huge. Several thick wooden pillars and a pair of newer ones
made of steel supported the floor above. There were equally
thick rafters running its entire length. It had no ground-
level windows as modern basements do. The walls were brick,
patched here and there with concrete. The floor was brick
was well. There was the ubiquitous creaky narrow wooden
stair from the kitchen, but there was also an outside exit
with an inner and outer door. Transforming this cold dark
space would be fairly easy, and already a vision of how I'd
lay things out was beginning to form, and with it a vision
of things Alex and I would do here.
     I hurried up the stairs, realizing I'd spent more time
than I'd intended. Alex was waiting for me exactly as
instructed. When he saw the ropes in my hands his eyes
flashed with excitement.
     "Oh, shit! You're gonna tie me up! Finally!"
     "That's right, Alex. Are you okay with that?"
     "Way okay," he said with a smile. "Make `em real tight.
Please?"
     "Just enough to keep you from getting loose. Let's do
your wrists first."
     He lay flat on his back and perfectly still. I took his
left wrist and looped the first of the ropes around it. Then
I pulled his arm out straight and tied the rope around
corner of the headboard. It was an old cast iron one with
thick bars, just made for this sort of thing as luck would
have it. Alex' eyes followed me eagerly as I slowly walked
around and repeated the procedure with his right arm. He
tugged on his restraints, but his arms were going nowhere,
stretched just slightly above his head.
     "How's that?" I asked. "First time I've ever tied a boy
up."
     "You're good at it," he said, giving another useless
but symbolic wriggle.
     "Now your ankles." I spread him as far as I dared,
until I could see the muscles in his legs begin to strain.
"Does that hurt?"
     "A little," he gasped.
     "Can you handle it?"
     "Yes, sir."
     Without a further word I tied his ankles as I'd done
his wrists before. The boy was now stretched across the bed,
his hairless but impressive cock standing straight up, six
inches and hard as steel.
     "Fuck me," he whispered. "Please."
     Ignoring him, I took the butt-plug and slowly worked it
back inside him. Alex gasped and grunted in frustration as
it went in. I gave his penis several quick strokes. He
moaned and begged me to make him shoot.
     I left him hard and horny and unable to do a thing
about it. "We won't be leaving `til after lunch. I'll
release you when it's time to eat."
     Twelve-year-old Alex almost growled at me. It was nice
to see a little flare of resistance from the submissive boy.
He made one more valiant attempt to test his bonds, then
flopped his head down onto the pillow with a weak little
cry. I stepped close to his bed once more.
     "I'll leave the door open just in case. If it gets too
much for you, just shout. I'll let you go if you really
can't take it. Try to take it. Try for me." I kissed my
bound boy on the forehead and walked away.

Chapter 8: Twists and Turns.

     I spent the rest of the morning on the computer,
browsing the internet for information on this strange
journey Alex and I were beginning. I felt good about what we
had done so far, the things we had discovered on our own,
but there was a depth to this that still felt just out of
reach. It was as if we'd both tapped into something
elemental about ourselves, but neither of us knew quite what
to do with it, or where it would take us.
     And there was something else. I knew that sooner or
later there would have to be pain. Alex needed it. So badly
he'd soon start asking for it. I hadn't yet done that to
him, caused him real pain, and I wasn't sure if I could. I'd
played on the edges of this kind of thing before, but my so-
called partners were mere joinings of convenience, young men
and horny teens, some of whom liked things a bit rough. I
was happy to oblige. I enjoyed the dominant role when it
presented itself, but I'd never considered myself a master,
and all those relationships were fleeting, all about sex and
really nothing else.
     It had to be different with Alex. We already had a
relationship to start with. That made what we were doing a
lot more meaningful, and a lot more dangerous. How does one
handle a twelve-year-old slave? Naturally there was no
information to be found. Somewhere, I just knew, there were
other boys who were slaves like Alex, and other men like me
who kept them, but one does not advertise when living on the
edge of a knife.
     I thought about Robert and Michael again. Mike is of
age now, but he certainly wasn't when they'd started, barely
fifteen if I remember. Like Alexander now, he had the heart
of a boy, but the needs of a man. How does one navigate that
tricky ground without destroying something in the boy? Maybe
it can't be done. Maybe I wanted more from him than he could
give. Alex could be a boy, or he could be a slave, maybe he
couldn't be both at once. I really needed some time alone
with Robert to talk this through, but I knew, in the end, it
would have to be my decision.
     The morning was moving along fast, and it was nearly
time for lunch. I made my way quietly to Alex' room. The boy
had lost his erection, but otherwise he was, naturally, just
as I'd left him. His eyes were closed, but he was not
asleep. His lips were curled in a soft, contented smile.
He'd wiggle his fingers, then his toes, then pull a little
against the ropes. I knocked on the doorframe. Alex opened
his eyes right away.
     "Doing okay?" I asked.
     "Sure am. I didn't know it could feel this good," he
said, tugging on his restraints again.
     "You're soft."
     He raised his head and looked down the length of his
out-stretched body. Alex was surprised to discover his boner
had gone south. "When did that happen? I didn't even notice,
with the ropes and the plug and everything." He flopped his
head on the pillow again and let out a deep breath. "Shit, I
love being stretched like this. Make it tighter."
     I shook my finger at him. "Since when do you start
giving orders?"
     Alex smiled at me, but I could see he was genuinely
disappointed when I loosened the ropes and got him back on
his feet. His lips were pouting. I gave him a little kiss.
     "You have to learn that I decide when you're tied up
and when you're not. You can beg and plead and give me that
look all you want, but I know what's best, remember? That's
one of your rules."
     "Sorry. It was just so wild." He inspected his wrists.
They were just a little red from the ropes, but the marks
were fading fast. "Will you . . . will you fuck me like that
sometimes, all tied up?"
     "Oh, I think you can count on that, my little slave."
     He actually jumped a little. "That's so hot! I can't
wait."
     "You'll have to. I might just keep that plug in you for
three or four days. I haven't decided when you're getting
your next fuck."
     "Make it soon, Steve, please. I want it so bad."
     I smiled at him wickedly and took him by the wrist. He
winced a little from the ropes. "This isn't about what you
want anymore, Alex, or need. It's about me controlling your
wants and needs. From now on I decide when you piss and when
you shit, when you get fucked, and when you cum. You're not
allowed to make those decisions for yourself. That's my
job."
     "What I want doesn't matter," he said, almost singing
the words.
     "I didn't say that, Alex. That would make it too easy
for you. What you want matters a lot. That's how it works. I
take control of all that. I take control of you, and you do
as you're told because you need it."
     I swear his dick shot up hard in about two seconds.
     "Oh, man. You're making me hard again."
     "Don't touch yourself," I said before he could even
think about it. "If you get hard without permission, that's
your problem, not mine. You can just stay that way."
     And he did. All the way down the stairs and all through
lunch. He had to fight to keep from touching himself, and
often required a stern look or a slap of his hands, but he
managed it. I was very proud of him.
     "Follow me upstairs," I said after he'd cleaned up the
dishes. "We need to get you dressed."
     I stood him in the middle of his room while I surveyed
his wardrobe. Robert hadn't given me any specific
instructions as to what Alex should be wearing, but I
somehow knew my choices would be scrutinized when we
arrived. From his underwear drawer I pulled out a pair of
bikini briefs, dark blue. He'd been into boxers lately, but
these were a well-used pair. I watched as the boy quickly
worked his slender, muscular legs into the holes and slid
them up, resting them just below his narrow waist.
     "Mmmm, silky," he said, swinging his hips in a
provocative fashion.
     "You really are hopeless, aren't you?"
     "Yep. One-hundred-percent All-American horny, that's
me."
     I took a nice pair of jeans from his closet and tossed
them in his direction. "Get into those while I find you a
shirt." I heard Alex shuffling around for a few moments and
in the meanwhile selected a striped pullover for him. It was
a very sexy shirtless boy who stood there when I turned
around. Some boys look sloppy or just silly in jeans, too
skinny and bony to really fill them out properly. Not so my
Alexander. His thighs, his hips, his nice bulge there in
front. The fabric hugged everything tightly. He was
gorgeous, and he spun around to show himself off. His butt
was perfect.
     "Cute ass," I complimented him.
     "Sure ya don't want a piece of it before we go?"
     "Tramp."
     "Hey!" He threw a pillow in my direction.
     Soon I had him pinned beneath me on the bed. The boy
wiggled and struggled, then shrieked bloody-murder when I
tickled him. Finally, we both calmed down, and he looked at
me with those thoughtful sad eyes of his.
     "I'm not like that. I'm not . . . what you said. Am I?"
     "No, little man."
     "You . . . you're the only one I ever want inside me."
     I was touched, but some part of me also relished in
tormenting him. "Too bad," I said matter-of-factly. "I
imagine Robert's going to want to fuck you, long and hard,
just like you deserve. He's a lot bigger than I am. He'll
probably tear you up pretty bad."
     His eyes danced and watered. "You're not going to let
him, are you?" The fear in his voice was delicious. I was
beginning to love the power I had to screw with his head, to
make him cry, to toy with his young emotions. I was also
beginning to understand that there were many kinds of pain,
many ways to hurt, and that I had just hurt my boy deeply. A
few tears ran from his eyes. I touched a hand to his cheek.
     "No, of course not. Actually, you're too young to
interest him, at least as far as sex is concerned. He may
want to make you scream, just to hear it, and I will let him
do that."
     Again there was fear in his young eyes, but this time
also the unmistakable look of excitement and desire.
     I put his shirt on him then tucked it in, finishing him
off with a brown leather belt. He brushed his hair and I
added a little gel to give it that spiky style he was so
fond of. Socks and shoes went on last. I paused to study
him, pleased with how sharp he looked. He was neat and
handsome, and he looked as good in clothes as out of them.
We were ready.

     A two-hour drive up state lay ahead of us. We were in
my pick-up, the one I bought myself as a present after
beating my addictions. I will always see that moment as my
liberation, and the man who awaited us as the one largely
responsible. The truck, sporty and full-sized, appealed to
me back then, an ironic symbol of freedom and independence.
As Alex sat beside me, I decided I would have to get a cap
for the bed. Then I could make some alterations that would
allow me to transport him in the back. I started to tell him
about my evil plans for him, but he didn't seem in the mood
to talk.
     Alex was oddly subdued, just staring out the side
window.
     "Scared?" I asked him gently.
     "Yes," he said, finally turning to face me. There were
no tears in his eyes, but they were dancing with strong and
confused emotions. "I've been thinking. This is it, isn't
it? I mean, after today, I can't go back to being a normal
kid. Someone else is going to know all about me. All about
us. That is scary."
     I reached over and patted him on the leg.
     "Do you want to stop? I'll turn us around right now if
you do."
     His answer came without hesitation. "No. I'm just a
little scared that's all. Is that ok?"
     "Sure. Besides, Robert can be frightening. I should
know."
     He looked at me with a puzzled expression. I'd never
told him about those two months I spent in Robert's care,
fighting cocaine. There was no sex between us, but there was
restraint and discipline. He was brutal and relentless. I
fought him every step, every moment, but he never let up. I
hated him, but I also loved him. Robert saved my life, and
gave me the new one I now lived with Alex.
     "I'll tell you about it sometime," I said, figuring it
was best I not fill his head with my own experiences. Alex
nodded.
     "Will I have to take my clothes off?" he asked.
     "Yes. Robert has to measure you for your gear."
     "Gear?"
     "Collar, cuffs, things like that. Things you'll wear.
Things I'll use on you."
     I heard him take a sharp breath.
     "It's been a long time since anyone's seen me naked but
you."
     "How does that make you feel?"
     The boy paused and stared out the window again.
"Actually, it's kind of exciting. Thinking about him looking
at me. I'll probably get a boner."
     I smiled at him, knowing it would be his last erection
for quite a while.
     "Remember to call him `sir'," I instructed as we neared
our destination. "And since Michael is older than you, you
should call him that too, unless Robert tells you otherwise.
I want you to obey him and do what he tells you, but always
look at me first before you do anything. You still need my
permission."
     "Got it."
     "No speaking unless you're spoken to."
     "Got it."
     "Always stand up straight."
     "Got it," he said laughing. "What are you worried
about? I'm the one who's gonna be naked."
     "I just want you to make a good impression on him."
     I turned us up a narrow drive. There was a small town,
just ahead along the main road, but that was not our
destination. Robert lived on a large, spacious, secluded
estate, his long career in law keeping him quite
comfortable. After several minutes of driving along the tree-
covered lane, the pavement turned to dirt.
     "He owns all this?" Alex asked in wonder.
     "Obviously."
     Ahead of us now was the house, a mansion really. Not
some gothic horror or run down Victorian, but a modern home
with large panoramic windows. We pulled up the circular
driveway. Alex was still blinking in amazement at such
blatant luxury. I put an arm around his shoulder and
together we marched up the steps. I had him ring the bell,
feeling it was important that he, not I, ask for entry into
Robert's private domain.

Chapter 9: A Tight Fit

     Michael answered the door with his usual professional
grace. He wasn't naked, as I'd come to expect. He had a
harness around his bare chest, still smooth and hairless.
Michael wore leather pants and boots. His collar and wrist
cuffs, all of leather, were still in place. I don't think
Robert had removed those since first putting them on when he
was fifteen. Michael had always been slim. Even now at
eighteen he retained a certain boyish quality in both face
and body. I doubt he was shaving much yet, if at all. He was
never going to be a large man, that much was certain. In
fact I imagined that Alex, with his strong young muscles,
could probably give him a good run for his money right now.
     "Welcome, sir," he said in his soft and youthful voice.
"Master Robert is waiting for you." He stood to one side and
gestured us in. This was the first time he'd ever seen
Alexander. His reaction was controlled, but obvious. Alex is
very cute, very handsome actually, and even a gay man with
no particular affinity for boys would naturally be attracted
to him. Michael risked a little smile in Alexander's
direction, then escorted us through the house toward
Robert's study.
     Alex instinctively walked a step or two behind me. I
looked back at him and nodded my approval. That would be
another rule for his growing list.
     Robert was in his chair, just as I'd left him the day
before. He rose slowly. He took my hand and welcomed me,
momentarily ignoring Alexander. After sending Michael to get
me a drink, he finally turned his attention to the twelve-
year-old boy standing on his carpet. It had been nearly a
year since they'd last seen each other.
     "You're taller than I remember, boy," he said, studying
him with his dark and masterful eyes.
     "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Alex looked him in the eye
as he said it, just as I'd instructed. I knew it was hard
for him. I could see him trembling just slightly.
     Robert gazed at me with an approving smile before
turning to Alex once again. "Step closer, boy."
     Alex turned his head briefly in my direction and I
nodded. The boy stepped forward as Robert waited. I've
mentioned that Robert is a large man, and Alex, though quite
well grown for his age, was utterly dwarfed by him. Suddenly
he seemed so young, so small. Truthfully I'd stopped
thinking of him as a child many months ago, but now, as
Robert towered over him, I saw him that way again. Some
small part of me still wanted to stop, to drag him home and
tuck him tightly into his bed, to protect him from this
world he was entering, I suppose to protect him from
himself.
     I had to let it continue. I was sure he'd probably hate
me for what we were going to do today, and in fact he did,
but it was the kind of hate a master grows to enjoy, the
fleeting type that burns quickly and fades away. The type
I've since learned to coax from him whenever I wish. Had I
taken him away from this, I knew he would have hated me for
real, and forever.
     "Stop there," I heard Robert order. His voice was stern
and strong, but strangely quiet. All the more menacing for
it. Alex stopped in his tracks.
     Michael returned and handed me my drink before moving
to stand behind his master. This time he did not give Alex a
single glance. Robert, and Robert's wishes, was his sole
focus.
     Robert then returned to his chair and offered me
another close by. Only Alex and Michael were standing now. I
sat down facing my boy, just as Robert was. The afternoon
sun was streaming in through the large windows behind us,
but it was a soft, gentle light it cast upon the boy's
slender frame. Alex was radiant and more beautiful than I'd
ever remembered. Robert leaned forward and caught the boy's
gaze.
     "How old are you, Alexander?"
     Of course Robert knew the answer, but hearing if from
the boy's own mouth was important.
     "I'm twelve, sir. I'll be thirteen in two months."
     Robert glared at him. "Did I ask you how old you would
be?"
     Alex stood a little straighter. "No, sir, you didn't.
I'm sorry, sir."
     "Do not speak out of turn again."
     This little scene was already getting me very hard.
There was fear there in Alex' eyes, but also determination,
and I could see the bulge in his pants was growing larger.
     "Why are you here?" Robert asked coldly.
     Alex shifted his eyes to me for just a second. He
thought up his answer on the spot. "Sir, I am here so I can
learn to be a good slave for my master."
     I was very proud of him. I could see by Robert's
bemused expression that he was impressed as well. But he was
also ruthless. Just like I remembered him.
     "You think you want to be a slave?"
     Something in Robert's tone made Alex shiver. "Sir, yes,
sir, that is what I want."
     "You are a child," he said dismissively. "How can you
possibly know what you want?"
     "I know this, sir," Alex said, his voice wavering now.
"I know this more than anything."
     "Then you know nothing," Robert hissed coldly, sticking
the knife in once more. "What do you want?"
     "To be a slave, sir," the boy said again, getting close
to tears now.
     "To pretend you're a slave, you mean."
     "No, sir," Alex replied. "To be a real slave. To do
what I'm told. To have master teach me, and love me, and
fuck me, and, and, hurt me, sir."
     "So you like pain, do you?"
     Alex never could have endured this verbal beating if he
hadn't.
     "Sir, I do."
     Robert laughed at him, a cold mean laugh I thought,
meant to belittle and humiliate. "Child," he said it like a
curse, "you have no idea just how badly one person can hurt
another, do you?"
     Just a second of empty silence followed, but Robert
laid into him viciously. "Answer me when I ask you a
question, boy!"
     Something turned in Alexander in that moment, something
deep inside. I saw it in his eyes, a strength I honestly did
not know he had. I loved him more than ever.
     "I think I do have an idea, sir," he said strongly.
"Some people hurt me before, sir, when I was little. They
hurt me real bad. But that's not the same. That wasn't
right, sir, because they hated me. Steve . . . my master . .
. loves me. It's not the same. It's not."
     His last words were almost a plea, and tears fell
freely from his eyes.
     "You're right, Alexander," Robert said, his voice
suddenly gentle. "It is definitely not the same." He then
sat back and turned to face me. His eyes were lively and
filled with a softness and compassion I had rarely seen from
him.  "He's marvelous, Steven. Quite adorable, and quite
intelligent. May I continue?"
     I looked at Alexander, still in tears, but realized it
was no longer his choice. Only mine.
     "Absolutely."
     "Alex," Robert said, his voice still stern, but a
little more kindly now. "Get a tissue and wipe your eyes."
     My sweet, beautiful boy did so, then bravely resumed
his place. My heart swelled with pride.
     "Tell him to strip," Robert said to me.
     Alex took a deep breath. This was the moment. I looked
at him with great affection. "Take your clothes off, Alex,
and fold them on the chair."
     "Yes, master."
     I think that was the first time he truly and freely
called me that. It was the first time I remembered it
anyway. In fact we will both always remember everything
about that day. His shirt came off first, then his shoes and
his socks. He was adorably awkward as he struggled to get
them off without sitting down. Next his belt, which he laid
over the back of the chair. He skinned out his jeans and
folded them carefully. Last he rolled his blue low-risers
down his shapely legs. Alex was utterly beautiful in his
nakedness, there in that golden afternoon. I wanted to take
him in my arms and hug him, but our business was just
beginning.
     Alex returned again to his spot. He was hard, six
inches of boyhood standing proud of his hairless groin.
     "Turn round and let Robert see you," I ordered.
     With a boy's unique grace he did so.
     "Bend over, and grab your ankles."
     Again Alex complied with a smooth, fluid motion, which
brought the end of the shiny butt-plug into view. Robert
nodded in satisfaction.
     "How long has he had it in?"
     "Since last night, give or take an hour or two."
     "How are you feeling, Alexander?" Robert asked.
     "I'm fine, sir," the boy replied, still bent over,
looking at us now from between his own legs.
     "Stand up. Hands behind your head," Robert said. "Good.
Spread your feet. Wider. Wider. Good. Don't move."
     Robert turned to me. "Positions are very important, for
humility and punishment. You should create your own for him,
eventually, but I will show you the basics, and he will
learn them. Alex," he called sharply, "what are you doing
right now?"
     "I'm standing, sir."
     "Correct. First Position is `Stand'. Whenever your
master tells you, this is what you will do. Thrust your
chest out a little more. Raise your chin. Elbows back,
you're already getting lazy."
     Together Robert and I stood up and walked slowly around
him. "This is a good general position," Robert explained.
"It does not put too much stress on the muscles. You will
use it often. Even though he is very young, you should be
able to keep him in this position for several hours at a
time."
     Alex was shifting his weight slightly from leg to leg.
Robert caught it instantly. "You're to stand still, boy." He
placed his hands on either side of Alexander's hips to
reinforce the discipline. "Spread your legs a little
farther. There. Can you feel the balance?"
     Alex nodded. "Yes, sir, that's much better."
     "Keeping perfectly still is one of the hardest things
for a slave to learn," Robert told him. "And you will learn.
Michael, the tawse, please."
     Michael immediately drew the slender whip from a side
table and approached us respectfully. Alexander's eyes grew
wide when he saw it. His cock was stiff as a nail.
     "Michael, Master Steven and I need to speak privately.
If young Alexander here moves a hair on his head, give his
little butt a nice lashing. See that he learns."
     "Yes, master."
     Robert gestured me with his eyes and I followed him out
of the study and up the stairs. "Michael has become a most
excellent slave. We shall leave the rudiments of Alexander's
instruction to him, for the moment. He has a gentle heart. I
doubt we'll see many marks on the boy's behind."
     He opened a door at the end of the hall. Clearly it was
his supply room. The smell of leather and latex and metal
was quite overpowering. There were whips, some of ghastly
thickness, hanging on the walls, leather harnesses beside
them. Piles of chains and manacles were scattered here and
there. Several workbenches occupied the center of the room
with various tools and unfinished pieces upon them. Robert
smiled with unabashed pride as I leisurely toured the room,
admiring his fine handiwork.
     "Alex deserves the best," he said, "and he shall have
it."
     I smiled at him in return as I inspected one of the
harnesses. It was fashioned of thick supple leather, heavy
and sturdy and meant to take years and years of wear.
Naturally I imagined Alex in a smaller version of it. It was
clear Robert did not make all of these for himself.
     "It is a tidy little side business, Steven, I tell you.
Many of my associates are heavily into the scene. You'd be
surprised how many judges and lawyers keep slaves. More than
a few of my acquaintance have boys not much older than Alex.
Street kids for the most part. We get together on occasion.
I will see about an invitation for you. But now, down to
business. You need to make some decisions before I can put
anything together. Principally speaking, do want the boy in
leather or iron?"
     Robert proceeded to show me several samples. Leather
collars against iron ones, leather ankle restraints against
shackles, leather wrist cuffs against manacles. Everything
was expertly crafted.
     "Decisions, decisions," I hummed, as I imagined my
almost thirteen-year-old boy bound in irons and chains, or
tightly constrained in thick black leather. Robert offered a
solution I could not resist.
     "I can make a set of each for him. And of course you
can always come back for more."
     "You're much too generous."
     He eyed me rather darkly. "These aren't gifts, Steven.
They are tools. Tools for training that boy. I expect you to
use them well and with care. There is a price."
     "I thought there might be. Name it."
     "That you bring him here, at least once a month, so
that I may observe his progress."
     "I think you'll do more than observe," I laughed.
     "Oh, I'll leave the sex to you, where Alex is
concerned. But I wouldn't mind giving him a good sound
whipping now and again."
     "Somehow I don't think Alex will mind much either."
     "I'll bet he screams beautifully. It's a bit early yet
to know for certain, but I do believe you have a very deep
submissive on your hands."
     "That worries me, Rob, it does. I don't want him to
become some mindless, gutless little worm. He could, you
know. He gives himself so freely, he always has."
     "Naturally. He feels safe with you, he trusts you to do
what's right for him. He needs that control in his life, all
slaves do. That's how they are. You can't change him. But, I
think, you are underestimating him. I see a boy who is very
strong, and quite willful, even masterful, in his own way.
Whose idea was this? Whose needs are being served here,
yours or his? Did you make the decision?"
     Of course my first reaction was to say yes, but then I
realized it wasn't really that simple, and that, at least at
some level, it was really Alex who was in charge of this
whole crazy, wonderful adventure. Everything we had done up
'til now was exactly what he'd planned and wanted. Yes, he'd
played me quite expertly so far, thank you.
     Robert laughed good-naturedly at my rather dumbstruck
expression. "Devious little shit, isn't he? I suggest you
take a firmer hand with him from now on. He needs you to be
his master. If you keep leaving openings for him, he will
use you, not in a mean or spiteful way . . . some slaves are
like that . . . but I don't believe Alex is one of those
sorts. He worships you. He will be great, if you have the
courage to truly be his master. Tighten the reigns and keep
an eye on that boy."
     "If I had some reigns it would help," I said, again
eyeing the many varied harnesses and hoods as they hung from
the wall.
     "Not to fear. I will get his measurements before you
go. I should have everything ready for him in a few days,
but one thing cannot wait. We need to get that boy into a
chastity belt today. Quite a disgusting display he was
putting on downstairs. Erect and dripping in front a master
he hardly knows, leaking his spunk all over my antique rug.
That must stop."
     "No arguments there," I said.
     "Is he like that often?"
     "Just all the time. I'm starting to think his body's
just there to carry his dick around."
     "Well, he is almost thirteen. Boys have no sense of
self-control at that age. It will be interesting to see how
he responds. Do you want to simply stop him masturbating, or
prevent him from having erections entirely?"
     "No erections, unless he has my permission."
     "Excellent. I would have been very disappointed in you,
had you been lenient with him. Strict chastity is essential
for a well-adjusted slave. I believe I have just the thing."
     He opened a drawer in a large cedar cabinet, and after
several minutes searching took out several items, laying
them upon the nearest workbench for my inspection. One was a
leather jockstrap. It was small in size, perfect for
Alexander's narrow waist. The belt was quite wide, nearly
three inches, studded with silver rivets and a large buckle
in back, complete with padlock. The leg straps were about an
inch wide, as you would find on its cloth counterpart, and
they attached to the belt and pouch with adjustable buckles
and smaller locks of their own. The pouch itself had a
circular opening for the cock and balls with a slender ass
strap attached by a snap at the bottom. I also noted a
single buckle at the top of the round opening and two more
at opposite sides, designed to hold the chastity device in
place.
     That was, of course, the other item Robert had selected
for me. It was made entirely of metal, aluminum by the looks
of it, oval in shape from front to back, top to bottom, side
to side. Perfectly symmetrical. It was about four inches
long and three inches at its widest. It was formed from two
roughly identical halves, joined by a thick hinge at the
base. The back half had a hole about two inches in diameter
for the genitals to slip through. Riveted to the back were
also three heavy leather belt loops, one at the top and two
at the sides, corresponding to the buckles on the jockstrap.
It was shiny and smooth and quite medieval looking.
     I'd never seen anything quite like it, although Robert
quickly explained it was quite common, and just perfect for
almost-teenaged boys who can't keep their hands away from
their little sticks.
     "The seed pod," he named it for me. "A fitting name,
don't you think, and not just for the shape. Pick it up."
     It was substantial, but not overly heavy.
     "The aluminum gives it just enough weight to remind him
he's wearing it, without causing any real discomfort. It's
rust proof as well. Alex can shower in it, even piss in it."
He then pointed out the small round hole at the bottom of
the front half. "He'll leak his pre-cum through here as
well. This is made for a small man, but Alex has a rather
large cock for his age, and a nice set of balls. It should
be a snug fit."
     Robert then turned it over, so that I could see the
inside to the two identical shells. The bottom half had two
slender leather straps, each with a series of snaps running
their length. These would be strapped over his dick, keeping
it pressed downward against his balls. Inside the top half
were welded two metal bars which curved slightly outward.
     "They're the real genius of the pod," Robert explained.
"They press on the penis constantly, but keep it from
becoming fully erect. There's just no room inside for the
penis to expand. The pod keeps the balls under a certain
amount of pressure too. Not enough to be painful, but it's a
very tight feeling."
     "This is going to drive him nuts," I said with
admiration and lust.
     "Yes, with the plug in his ass, he'll be dripping
constantly, but he won't be able to get hard, or even think
about touching himself. Aside from the piss hole, there are
no openings. You put it together like this."
     Robert brought the two halves together. They fit
perfectly. A hex bolt at the top locked the two pieces in
place. There was also an opening above the bolt for a
padlock. Altogether that would be five locks, plus the many
buckles, if my count was correct. It all added up to
complete and total control of Alexander's sex.
     "You'll find it wears very well under clothing. He'll
have a bigger bulge than most boys his age, but he's hung to
begin with so no one should really notice. If they're
looking that close, you should invite them over to play."
     "Let's put it on him right now," I said eagerly.
     My mentor shared my wicked smile, and we returned to
the study with the jock and pod in hand.
     Alex was still as we'd left him, standing with his legs
spread and his hands behind his head. Michael greeted us
with a respectful bow. I could see several red stripes on
Alex' butt, evidence of his failure to remain still.
     "How many lashes did you give him, Michael?" I asked.
By the visible count it had been quite a few.
     "Nine, sir, but I confess I was lenient."
     Robert stared at him in amazement. There was great love
and pride in his eyes. "I told you he was a gentle sort," he
said privately to me. "And how many should the young man
have received?" he asked his slave sternly.
     "Closer to twenty, sir, but he's so young, sir."
     "Then you shall receive double that amount as
punishment, and keep your judgements of his age to yourself.
He is Master Steven's slave, and that should be enough for
you."
     "Yes, master." Michael then turned to me. "I apologize,
sir."
     "Accepted," I replied as I examined the marks on
Alexander's behind. I cupped his beautiful cheeks with my
hands and immediately felt the heat coming off them.
Normally a golden tan like the rest of him, they now had a
warm pink glow. I heard him wince a little.
     "Are you learning your lesson?" I asked him.
     "Yes, sir." His voice was soft and trembling.
     "Thank Michael for helping you."
     Alex turned gracefully then bowed low at the waist,
copying Michael's style almost exactly.
     "Thank you, sir," he said, "for helping me to learn,
and for the lash, when I needed it."
     Robert's eyes lit up. "Oh, he is absolutely precious.
Let's get him into his belt."
     "Agreed. Alex, stand."
     Alex resumed the position, noticeably more confident
and controlled. Robert handed me the leather jock. My boy's
eyes were soft and dreamy as he looked at it. I held it
close to his nose, so he could smell the fine leather.
     "Ready?" I asked.
     "Yes, sir."
     "Don't get hard."
     With that instruction I carefully brought his balls and
then his four-inch cock through the round opening, touching
them no more than was necessary to complete the task. Next I
buckled the belt behind him and closed the first of the
padlocks in place. I went to the leg straps next, pulling
them under his firm round globes. They nestled perfectly
where the backs of his thighs joined his ass. Two more
clicks on either side and those locks were in place as well.
I left the ass strap loose for the moment. It was time for
the pod.
     Alex nearly swooned when he saw it. Any reasonable five-
year-old with a dick could have told you where it would go
and what it would do.
     "Oh, wow! Oh, shit," I heard him whisper. "You're
really going to lock me in there."
     I gave his face a gentle slap.  "No talking."
     With his young cock and balls already pulled through
the opening in the pouch, it was easy to get them into the
pod. He was starting to get stiff again, so I quickly yanked
his cock down over his balls and snapped the twin straps in
place, keeping it in position. I pulled on his balls a bit,
working them down a little further. Alex let out a strange
croaking moan, but was otherwise silent.
     Everything was tucked neatly in place, and I closed the
top half of the pod over my boy's genitals. With the hex
wrench I screwed the thing together and fed the three belt
loops through the buckles on the jock. This drew the pod
upward a little bit and would keep it from moving freely.
     The ass strap came next. I pulled it sharply and firmly
between his legs, causing it to press against the plug in
his butt. This coaxed another moan from this throat, this
time deeper, almost the sound a man might make. The strap
attached with a clasp to the belt in the back, and it to, of
course, had a small padlock, which was soon in place.
     The lock for the pod itself I'd saved for last.
     "Hold out your hand," I said.
     As always, the boy did as he was told. His hand was
shaking, just a little. I dropped the last padlock into his
palm.
     "When I put this on, you will never be able to touch
your dick again, not even to piss. Not ever. From now on
only my hands will touch you there." I wrapped my fingers
around the metal case that now enclosed his boyhood. "Who
does this belong to?"
     He looked at me with devotion as I clicked the lock in
place. "It belongs to you." Alexander's knees suddenly went
weak, and I had to hold him up for a few minutes. I rubbed
my hands up and down his back, and whispered softly in his
ear.
     "You're a good boy, aren't you?"
     "Yes, master." He trembled softly in my arms.
     "Tell me."
     "It's, it's a very strange feeling, sir. I, I want to
get hard so bad," his voice cracked and squeaked under this
newfound stress, "but I can't. Oh, man, I can't get hard!"
His slender legs were twitching now as I held him. He clung
to me desperately. I hugged him for a few minutes and
stroked his hair, quickly dampening with sweat. Then it was
time. Time he learned something about his new life.
     "Alex. Stand!"
     He snapped back to reality instantly and returned to
his position. There was, for a moment, an almost sick look
on his face, but it quickly faded.
     "Get used to it, boy," Robert said, clapping him firmly
on the shoulder. Strange, I'd hardly even noticed he was in
the room until just now. "I suspect your master isn't going
to let the mongoose out of its cage very often. Walk around
a bit, see how it feels."
     Alex moved slowly at first, unsure what to make of his
new apparel, but it was a good fit and soon his gait became
more natural. He was even getting used to the plug by now.
It was an arousing sight, this beautiful twelve-year-old
with his cock locked away and forever out of his reach, his
tight little ass plugged. The leather looked great on him,
accentuating his tanned skin. As I said, the belt was wide,
nearly three inches, so it encased his waist almost
entirely. The silver studs gave it a harsh, unforgiving
appearance, as if it were something that might be used on an
animal.
     "How does it feel?" I asked him.
     "Tight," the boy replied. "Tight . . . and good."
     Robert instructed him to stop and gave strap and pod a
brief inspection. "Any discomfort?"
     "No, sir."
     "You're not going to work loose, are you?"
     Alex wiggled his hips to test it out. "I don't think
so, sir."
     Robert turned to me. "Keep an eye on it the next few
days and see how it wears. If it starts to pinch, or get
uncomfortable, give me a call and I'll make a few
adjustments. Otherwise, I'd say it's a perfect fit."
     Looking at Alexander I was forced to agree. He gave me
a little smile. I could tell he was starting to get into the
idea of not having boners every ten minutes. I drew him
close and held him, running my hands over the leather at his
waist. Alex sighed and pressed into me a little deeper.
     "A nice pair, don't you think, Michael?" Robert asked.
     "Yes, sir. They remind me of us, sir, when you first
took me."
     I watched as stern, masterful Robert took his slave
into his arms and kissed him, tenderly and sweetly. Michael
easily returned his master's affection. There was a gentle
side to this man whom I'd known all my life, but it rarely
showed. Alex and I both watched now, and the boy's eyes
smiled brightly.
     "Kissing is just for us," I told him, "when we're home.
Something special. Understand?"
     "Yes, sir."
     Robert broke his embrace and gently pushed his slave
away. His intelligent eyes were cold and meticulous when he
turned them to us once again.
     "It's nearly time for dinner. I'd be a poor host if I
did not feed my guest, and his boy."
     Alex blushed.
     Robert gave Michael a sharp glance, and without a word
the young man departed to prepare our meal.
     "Go help Michael in the kitchen," I said sternly. Alex
was gone in a flash. Michael paused by the door and gave him
a little smile. The young man had a quiet grace and
discipline about him that was very appealing. They way he
stood, the way he walked, the way he addressed his master
and me, even the way he addressed a junior slave like Alex.
Everything was about respect, for others and himself. He was
at once sincerely humble and sincerely proud. I noted that
Alex had been watching him closely since we'd arrived, and
was already beginning to model some of the older boy's
behavior.
     They did not speak a single word to one another, but
disappeared into the kitchen to fix dinner for their
masters.