The Alex Chronicles

“Well, you cost me a pretty penny today, alex. More than a week of your pitiful salary.”

“Master, we still haven’t made the banking arrangements to transfer those funds to Your account.”

“We will do that soon, boy. Stop thinking about it. I have it under control. It is no longer your affair. focus your attention on ways to please Me better.”

I must confess that I am waiting to hear some words of praise, but nothing comes forth and it hurts a bit, but then I realize that the only reason it is hurting is that I am guilty of anticipating, of wanting things to happen a certain way. It is going to take a long time for me to get these way of thinking under control. I say nothing, even though I know I should be confessing my resistance to Master, but I am really tired and sore and downtrodden, so I prefer to wallow in my misery. Master doesn’t seem to care. He puts on some music and we ride home in silence.

We get almost home, but Master stops the car before He crosses onto our property. He turns off the music and says to me, “I’ve been waiting since we left Spike’s for you to tell me what you have going on in your head that you’re holding back from me. Goddamn it, you idiot slave, you weary Me. Haven’t you learned by now that you can’t hide any reaction from Me at all! What the fuck do I have to do to teach you to be naked for Me INSIDE as well as outside?”

I’m speechless and nervous. How can He do that? How can He know all the time when I’m hiding something? I can’t help myself, but I’m getting pissed that I have absolutely no mental privacy. But I dare not open my mouth right now.

“Get out of the fucking car and strip! Throw your clothes back in the car and get down into the dirt and wait here until I get back.” I do what He said. I throw my clothes into the car. “Close the door and get down like I told you!” Immediately He drives the car back up to the cabin. A few minutes He comes back with my chain collar and a couple of ropes and His strap. He comes to me, puts the collar back on and clips my wrists to the collar. Then with His foot He pushes me down into the dirt, takes out His cock and pisses on me. He ties one rope to the loop in my collar and the other one to my ankle cuffs.

“Again you will cross over to my property as a useless, filthy ignorant slave.” And He pulls on the ropes which puts me in an awkward position, and He actually drags me through the dirt and the piss all the way up the length of the driveway. I try to crawl but the way He has me tied it is almost impossible for me to do anything but let loose and let Him drag me. I keep screaming that I’m sorry and that I’ll tell Him everything but He doesn’t respond and just labors hard to pull me to the cabin. We get near and He takes the hose from the side of the house and hoses me off with the cold water and I holler and cry how sorry I am and please don’t give up on me. “Roll the fuck over!” I do so and He hoses off the other side of me and finally unties the ropes and says, “Get yourself into the bathroom. Clean out your ass, do what you need to do and then get down to the dungeon. Make it quick!” And He lashes me with the strap three times, not caring where it lands. One lash hits my chest by my nipples, the other one my ass and the third one across my back. He walks into the cabin and slams the door shut. Almost hysterical, I make my way into the cabin and the bathroom and have to piss and pull out the plug and clean out my ass, and I gradually begin to stop crying. DAMN! I really feel like a true slave right now, and I’m filled with shame because it would have been so easy to avoid all this happening. This is all my fault and I am terrified about what Master is going to do to punish me, but I know that whatever it turns out to be, I deserve it. WE had such a nice day and I fucking ruined it by defying His training.

I hurriedly take care of things in the bathroom, but have to take extra time for a second enema in case Master wants to fuck me, although I think He may be so fed up and frustrated with me that He may not be in the mood for any sexual satisfaction tonight. I have failed again and I am so fed up with it all that I will not be resentful about any punishment He decides to give me. I’m hoping it won’t be too severe, though, not because I don’t think I deserve it but because Mitchell is coming tomorrow and I don’t want to be unable to please Him however He wishes to be pleased.

Finally, fearfully, I finish up, I’m running clear, and I make my way downstairs to the dungeon wondering what is in store for me. Master is seated in His chair, barefoot, and has several different items on the table alongside His chair and I don’t even dare to look there because I am keeping my eyes lowered and will not look around unless ordered to do so. “Approach,” He says. When I get to Him, He unlocks the chain I’ve been wearing around my neck and takes the new collar He bought. “Raise your head and turn around but continue looking down!” He wraps the collar around my neck and fastens it. It is snug but it is not cutting off my breath. He then takes each of my wrists and attaches each one to the rings on each side of the collar. This is a new position made possible by the positioning of the rings on the collar. Nothing else happens. I stand there, back to Him, looking down and so ashamed of myself. “Turn around” I do so. He lifts his hand and touches my cheek tenderly. This is the first tender touch He has given me since we got home and tears begin to flow and I start to blubber. “Master, I am so sorry. I have failed You again. I have kept my thoughts from You even though I knew it would get me in trouble. I am sorry, Master, and beg You to do whatever You must do to help Me stay in slave mode at every moment of my existence. I slipped again, I failed, I hid myself from You, Master, and I know I deserve every punishment You decide to give me. I beg you, Master, not to give up on this worthless slave, but to continue its training so it doesn’t not continually disappoint You the way it has been doing.” Master wipes the tears from my eyes and says quietly, “ten slaps” and proceeds to slap my face hard as can be and I try to say “thank You, Master’ after each slap on each side of my face, but I can’t get the words out for the last three blows and I am sobbing again. My face is on fire and again I know I deserve it. “Feet!” He commands. I fall to my knees and struggle to bend down to His feet in this new position. He helps by raising His foot and I put all of His toes in my mouth. “One at a time, bitch!” He commands, and I begin sucking each toe and cleaning between them, and continue to slavishly bathe His feet with my mouth and tongue and also my tears, because He keeps raising a foot to wipe the tears from my face. He begins to speak to me, and, as He does, He takes the new small whip He just bought and lightly lashes my shoulders and my back with it. It stings like nettles, but doesn’t hurt as much as I feared it would. Each lash is but a reminder of what I am and how I have displeased Him.

“You still don’t understand, alex, what it means to be a true and well-disciplined slave. I know it’s only been several days, but I am frustrated because you keep spoiling the excitement and fun You should rightfully have as a true slave by the way You continue to think. You cannot hide from me, slave, and you should know that by now. You would be a terrible poker player. Every thought you have is printed on your facial expressions. I waited and waited, but you refused to reveal what I think I’m going to call your “rebel” thoughts. And these thoughts don’t hurt Me or bother Me at all. What does bother Me, however, is your failure today to strip your mind naked and tell Me these thoughts. I waited and gave you a chance to speak, but you kept it all inside and I know you have been beating yourself up over it because once you realize you have failed again it causes you great suffering, far more suffering than I can possibly cause you. I’ll say it again.” he starts to whip me harder and I cry out sometimes. “When you have a rebel thought it ruins the experience from you. Your greatest happiness in your life, boy, is found by being a totally disciplined slave and by settling into that identity. And don’t forget, boy, that you are MY slave. Billy’s slave. Slave to the man you secretly desired to worship the very first time I ever paid attention to you. So why allow these rebellious thoughts without revealing them to Me so you can get them out of your system?”

“Kneel up, slave, and speak to Me. Tell me each time You entertained rebel thoughts.”

“Master, when You first spit in my face it took Me by surprise because You have never done that before, but it was not difficult to realize that it was a new way of humbling me. But when You allowed Spike to spit on my face as well, I grew resentful.”

“Good boy.” Now, understand this, because I don’t think I ever made this perfectly clear to you despite the fact that I sent Michael and Robert to use you before I allowed you to see Me. This is the way things are, slave: As your Master, I claim the power to allow any Man, any Man at all, even a fellow slave, to do things to you under My supervision. Just like I am going to allow Mitchell to do far more to you than you might think I will allow. The ONLY exception to this is something you already know; Only your Master will ever fuck you. Therefore, when a man spits in your face, or puncher you in the balls, or does anything else as I stand by and witness it, you must surrender to it and accept it as part of the constant punishment you need as a true slave. Now move on, boy. There is more to tell me.”

“Master, when we left Spike’s and got into the car, I thought You would praise me for being a good boy and say nice things to me and I got very disappointed and resentful when You remained silent.”

“Again, good boy. Now: a slave has no right to expect any praise or kind treatment simply because it has been a good slave. That is not praiseworthy unless a Superior decides to praise you. A good slave is supposed to be a good slave at all times. That is expected. Plus, boy, you should realize by now that every single time you behave and you accept humiliation and discipline and you obey and submit simply because you WANT to be My slave, every single one of those times pleases me beyond anything you could possibly imagine because there is no trace of any Dom or Master within you. You could never comprehend how much pleasure I get from being your Master when you are a good obedient and humble slave. Again, alex, you have no right to expect praise or anything else for that matter. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master. This slave understands and is sorry it cannot fully comprehend the pleasure a Master experiences when He has a good slave at His beck and call and at His feet and at His whipping post, or anywhere else.”

“Next confession, slave:”

“Master, this slave grew angry and was very resentful and resistant when you pissed on it in the dust and then dragged it back here with ropes.”

“Angry, resentful, resistant in the face of punishment your Master decided you deserved. And while you were entertaining these rebellious thoughts, I bet you failed to realize that I had dragged you here on the grass and not on the dirty and rocky driveway. your rebel thoughts failed to realize that even in humiliating punishment---and I admit it was---even in the midst of that punishment you were receiving, still your Master was looking out for your safety and moved you to the grass rather than ricking having you wounded by the texture of the driveway.”

“You are correct, Master. This slave did not realize how You were taking care for its safety. “

“And therefore, you suffered even more from the punishment than you would have if you had simply submitted to it and accepted that your Master has the right to punish His slave anyway He sees fit.”

“Yes, Master, this slave understands that now and thanks You for looking out for its safety. And this slave understands the You have the right to punish this slave anyway and anyhow You see fit at any time, including now.”

“Then, boy, I trust you understand why punishment is necessary now and I hope that punishment will serve to modify your behavior. It is the only tool a Master has with a male slave like You.”

“Yes, Master, this slave understands and is hoping Your punishments will help it modify its behavior in the future to become a better slave.”

“Very good. Then stand up and go stand at the whipping post. And not another word from you.”

With dread, I go there, convincing myself that whatever happens is for my good. I’ve never been at this whipping post before. I don’t fully understand what it will mean in terms of pain and humiliation.

“Turn around with your back to the post,” orders Master, so I end up facing Him as He raises my arms from my collar and attaches them to hooks on top of the post and then turns a crank to raise me up so that I am forced to stand on my toes. He goes to the side of the room and takes out a long implement that looks something like a cane, but seems to bend like a whip. Uh-oh. I remind myself that whatever is coming is a gift from Master meant to free me from thought-tendencies that are not proper for a truly modified slave. I repeat as a mantra: “alex is a slave and deserves to be punished” again and again.

Master blindfolds me and then sticks a penis gag in my mouth and fastens the straps behind my head. Between the blindfold and the gag and the collar I am rendered cut off from the world of free men.

Then He does something which really surprises me and I grit my teeth and force myself not to think of anything except the fact that I am bound here to be punished: He removes my cock cage and also wraps the ball strap around me so that my balls are hanging low and tight. I try not to anticipate. I also try not to slip into a horrified state.

“Mitchell is going so view a well-striped slave tomorrow and you will explain to him why you had to be punished the way I am going to punish you. I’m using the penis gag because when it comes to punishment, there are no safe words. And if you do happen to pass out, I’ll pour water over you and continue the punishment when you come to again. And here we go, alex. Let this beating drive rebellious thoughts from your mind.”

I have no idea where He is aiming that thing. I hear a swish and it crashes into my left armpit and if I could I would scream. It is a sharp biting pain and again it hits my upper thighs, twice, oh my God, and I rpeat my mantra as Master lashes me right across my nipples and the pain is intense but doesn’t last for long. And now I know why Master removed my cage when the lash lands right over my groin and there is no longer any chance of my getting hard because I’m being whipped in Master’s dungeon. Three more in the same area, with the last lash right smack across my balls and I want to kick out my leg but then I’d just be hanging by my arms.

Master goes and adjusts the height and I am relieved that I am able to stand on my feet as He lands five quick lashes down my chest, one beneath the other, each one like a bite of fire. Again my crotch and balls are beaten and the tears are flowing down my face and I actually try to scream through the gag. And then  . . . silence . . . nothing. I hang there bathed in pain in places I’d never been hit before. I start to drift off into a sub space trance, picturing myself hung at the whipping post, well striped with Master’s lash, knowing I deserved every touch of pain He has given me. I try to empty my mind.

Finally, Master comes over and unfastens my gag and the first thing out of my mouth is “Thank You, Master, for Your discipline.” That sprang out without any thought given to it. That must mean something, no? That must indicate the depths of my surrender. He takes off the blindfold and I look into His eyes and I see devotion and love and caring in them and no more anger or frustration. Master unclips my wrists from the post and helps me move my arms to restore circulation. The lash across my armpit is going to hut for a long time to come and I’m grateful He didn’t hit the other one as well.

Next, Master kneels before me and re-cages me and strangely enough, it feels comfortable to be locked away again and safe. Not that I wouldn’t have minded if Master chose to jerk me off after this whipping. I wonder if that will ever happen. Ever.

He rubs some ointment into my very sore balls but leaves the strap binding them on. Then He speaks:

“Hands and knees, slave.” I drop. “Crawl over to your cage and get in. You’re being locked in for the rest of the night. No supper for you tonight either. Hurry and get in there, slave, or I’ll get the strap to help you.”

No! Enough pain for one day, please? I get into the cage. It feels homey for me and I know, at least, that there won’t be any more pain for this naughty slave tonight. Disappointed about supper, but I can handle it. Nothing unusual about skipping a meal. “By the way, slave, I pissed into your water bottle, so if you get thirsty tonight, you’ll be drinking diluted piss.”

That’s all He says to me. He shuts the door to the cage and locks it. Without another word, He goes upstairs and shuts to lights so all I see is the purple glowing, a sight I’m getting used to.

you know, the worst part of punishment for me is how Master goes silent. I hate that more than the pain throbbing all over my body right now.

It is a long time before I finally fall asleep, and I wake myself up quite often because whenever I move I seem to ignite new pain where there was old pain. One thing I keep telling myself is that “I deserve this” and realize that I have really come to believe it.