The Alex Chronicles

Chapter 72

Heart to heart; hand to butt.

We ride along is silence for a while. From time to time, He reaches out to me to toy with my bare exposed flesh, both between my legs and up high at my nipples and He brings back the soreness I haven’t felt since He laid the punishment strap across my nipples this morning and to punish me for thinking snide thoughts about Him. As we’re riding along it occurs to me that I have never read anything about a Master controlling the way His slave thinks, and yet there is some definite behavior modification being done here and it is motivated by pain and a bit of fear about how much punishment hurts when Master decides it is needed.

Because of this, I’m having a hard time thinking about what Auntie Helen told me to do. If I tell Him, will I feel the lash of the strap again? Or is this is a time for free communication? I’m not sure until He decides to speak with His slave.

“You aren’t going to be forced to tell Me what you and Auntie Helen spoke about, but if there is anything specific that she told you to tell me, then that is free communication and I advise you to do as she says, because it seems to Me that you are wrestling with something and it is making you uncomfortable and even a bit fearful. So tell Me what you can.”

“Yes, Master. Basically, Auntie Helen was just checking to see if I was doing okay and if our relationship was making me happy, I told her everything was fine and I was very happy and how much I love You as Your slave and as Your husband and lover and all of that, so She was happy for me.”

“Continue . . . that’s not all, was it, boy?”

“Well, Master, She asked me if there was anything I wish could be changed and something immediately came to mind, and She told me to make sure I told You, but I’m uncomfortable saying it because I’m afraid that it will only make things worse.”

“Alex, you have got to learn to trust Me more. If something is so important that Auntie Helen told you to tell Me, then you can rest assured that it is something I have to know about and, if possible, make some changes in whatever it involves. So, out with it, boy. Open your head and reveal your brain to your Master. Trust that I can handle whatever it is that you have to tell Me.”

“Yes, Master. Okay. The things I told Her that I wished would be changed is that You often use Michael to punish Me, and it is very … . um….awful to me. Brutal, even.”

“Brutal?”

“Yes, Master, the word that came up in our conversation is that Michael is often brutal to me and the punishments He wields at me take me right out of sub space and put me into a state of fear and pain.”

“I am pleased you let Me know that, slave. You have got to understand that I will not put up with anyone brutalizing you, boy, so if that is what is happening I will bring a stop to it. I know that Michael tends to be very brutal with His slaves, so it isn’t a surprise to Me. In fact, most of the time, Michael’s potential slave boys don’t stick around for long. I often wondered why, and just assumed that the boys who fled Him were just wannabe’s and not subs truly interested in slavery. Maybe I was wrong. In fact . . . “ He turns the car around and goes off in another direction.

“Pick up My phone, put it on speaker and call Master Tom Harding.” I do as ordered. A young voice answers,

“Harding residence, pepper speaking.”

“Pepper, this is Master Billy calling for your Master.”

“Greetings, Master Billy. I will bring the phone to Master right away.”

phone noise follows. Someone with an older but jovial voice answers.

 

“Billy, my dear friend, what a nice surprise. We haven’t spoken since You decided to pursue that boy You had Your eye on. I hope things are working out for you, buddy.”

“Better than I ever could have hoped for, Tommy. As a matter of fact, since I’m in the area, I was wondering if You’d be open to having me drop in with the slave so You could get a good look at it, and, with Your permission, I’d like to speak with pepper a bit about its experience with Master Michael.”

“Ah, an interesting tale to tell, I can assure you. Please do stop by. We’re just having a relaxing Sunday afternoon; pepper just cleaned things up after a little luncheon party we had and I’ve given the slave permission to watch one of its favorite movies. How long will it take you to get here?

“Only about five minutes. My slave is currently wearing a jock over its cage but nothing else. Do I need to dress the boy?”

“Not at all. In fact, I’ll see to it that pepper is naked as well. See you in a few.”

the call is disconnected.

I disconnect the phone and put it down. I look to Master, Who says,

“I intend to do a little fact checking here about why pepper ran from Michael, because, in fact, that is what the slave did about nine months ago. Actually jumped out of Michael’s car when He stopped for a light after they had just left Shackles. pepper went running back to the club and begged for sanctuary. I think it actually ended up going home with Master Thomas that night.”

We pull up to a big old house with a wrap-around porch. A tall bearded man comes walking down the steps to greet us. Master gets out of the car and they embrace. Master sticks His head in the car and orders me to get out and to come bow down before Master Thomas and lick His boots as a way of greeting. I obey, as usual. I end up kneeling in the grass, and as soon as I bow down to lick the Master’s boots, He orders me to stand and put my hands behind my head.

“Nice specimen you have here,” He says to Master as He runs His hands up and down my back and ass and then my front where He pauses at my nipples and squeezes a bit which causes me to groan.

“Nice,” He says. Good to know that slave’s nipples are sore. You and I are very agreed on that point. I had pepper clamped until just a little while ago. But come inside, come get a look at My boy and see how He is thriving as My slave.”

We walk up the stairs onto the porch, and over by what I guess is Master Thomas’ chair, I see a youngish slave boy groveling on the floor, looking relaxed and at peace. As we walk up the porch, Master orders me to get into position alongside pepper and grovel on the floor with the young slave. Before I get all the way down, I notice faint cane stripes across the slave’s back and know that his Master isn’t afraid to beat a slave.

Master Thomas orders pepper to stand for inspection, and Master pretty does the same to pepper as Master Thomas did to me. He too checks the slave’s nipples and hears it moan plaintively and I know that this slave is kept sore just as I am.

Master Thomas whispers something to Master, and He orders me to stand as well and to embrace pepper and for us to stand, nipples to nipples, and hug and engage in a deep kiss. AS I stand in front of pepper, this cute boy gives me a shy smile and snuggles in against me and I get a good taste of how naturally affectionate he is, and I enjoy kissing him.

“Rub your nipples together,” orders Master Thomas, and we do so and both of us let out some light moans. Both Masters look at each other and giggle. Master Thomas orders His slave to come sit on His lap. (Master Thomas is much bigger than pepper, a very shy slight twink. Master point to the floor between His legs and I go to kneel there and rest my head in His lap.

Then Master turns to His friend and says, “My reason for coming over is to validate a claim that my slave made recently, that Master Michael is into brutalizing His slaves. From time to time, I’ve actually brought Michael in to punish My slave, and the slave just begged Me not to do it too often because, as the slave says, He is often brutal in His methods.” Master Thomas nods.

“I’ve heard the same thing,” He adds. “Don’t you remember what happened the night when my boy came naked and pounding on the door of the club?”

“I don’t think I was there that night,” Master answers.

“Then I’ll let pepper tell the story itself.” He orders pepper to sit up straight on His knees and He runs His hands up and down the sides of the boy’s torso as a way of helping Him stay calm. “Go on, baby boy, tell these nice men what happened,” He says as He nuzzles the back of the slave boy’s ears.

“A year after high school. I meet Master Michael on line, on Grindr. Mmmmmaster Michael told me He was good a training new slaves but it would be very difficult at the beginning, so I fell for it and went to be with Him. He was nice as could be until He finally got me to move in and give Him everything I had, but once I was there He was very very tough and it was my first time trying to become a slave, so I thought what He was doing was what always happened to slaves so I forced myself to take everything He did to me. It was all part of My training, I believed.”

“What did He do?” Master asked.

“The only food this slave ever got was slop in a bowl on the floor. He always carried His riding crop and would hit me all the time anywhere at all and if I moved or flinched or cried out, He would hit me four or five more times in the same place and then would slap my face back and forth over and over if this slave started to cry. He started punching me in the arms and back and even a couple of times in my tummy.” He turns his face and buries it in Thomas’ chest and Thomas hugs him and tells him what a good boy he is. It is obvious to me that one of the ways Master Thomas is helping the boy feel more comfortable and safe is by babying him like a little boy. I wonder to myself whether or not they may be engaging in real age regression, but know I have no right to indulge my curiosity. Maybe I’ll mention this to Master later.

“I’ll finish up,” says Master Thomas. “The night pepper escaped. Master Michael had strung the slave up and gave it a vicious flogging. pepper remained quiet and I only learned later that he was being trained not to react to pain, and I’ve got to tell you, Michael really laid into him. Then He chained the slave to a glory hole blindfolded and made it spend the rest of the night servicing random cocks. I thought this was a bit extreme for such a young-looking boy, especially with no after care once Michael had finished flogging it. Finally, he unchained the boy—it was completely naked except for its collar—and put on its leash and pulled, and I mean pulled it quickly out of the club and made it climb into the car. On the way home, Michael told the slave that the Club has a strict rule about blood, so that now that the slave was well warmed up by the flogging, He was looking forward to watching blood run down its body when they got home and He could continue whipping the slave. At that point, the boy panicked (apparently it had been given no safe words), and when Master was stopped for a long light, the boy opened the door and ran off naked until it was able to make its way through a shortcut through the cemetery and arrived at the door of the Club shivering, naked, filthy and with cut feet, and banging on the door and begging for help. I was there and unattached, and my heart went out to the poor kid and I volunteered to bring it into the shower room and help it get cleaned up and calmed down. It took a long time to get it to make any sense, but I washed it, put Band-Aids on its feet, and held it while it gushed out the story of what Michael had told it He was going to do.”

He continues, “The kid had absolutely nothing---not even a strip of clothing. It never had much in the way of assets, but Michael had taken everything and taught it that it would never need anything because it was going to live its entire live as a slave, being passed or sold from one Master to another, and it was brought naked to the ranch on a couple of occasions, and pepper told me that even there, the crew was not tough on it because they could see the evidence of constant beatings on its body. And they made sure the boy had something good to eat. And this confused the slave because it was so unlike what it had been experiencing. As it began to grow suspicious, it would notice other slaves in the Club and could see that they were not treated the way it was being treated. So the wheels began to turn, and finally, when Michael spoke about making it bleed, the slave panicked and ran off. . . . and into My arms.” and He kisses the back of the boy’s neck and reaches around to stroke its smallish dick. The slave boy shows no shame.

Master looks upset. “I’ve been friends with Michael for a long time, but I never realized anything like this was going on. Yes, I knew Michael could get tough on a naughty slave, and that’s why I liked having Him take care of discipline with this slave. But yet, all of a sudden things are starting to make sense. He’s never kept a slave for more than a week or ten days, when He would claim that He needed some time alone to train a new slave, He would pretty much drop out of sight for the time He was with someone. But, like I said, they rarely lasted, and He never had anything to say about it. He even managed from time to time to get a particular sub blackballed by the Club. I guess that was a way to put a stop to any malicious gossip. Hmmm….I think I’m going to talk to the Club administration. Perhaps we could reach out to the slaves who ended up getting banned by Michael. And meanwhile, I plan to have a good talk with Him myself.”

“Good idea,” agrees Master Thomas. “I’ll be in on it with you all the way, buddy. Damn, I’ve been kind of rude. Would you like to have something to drink?” He asks Master, who asks for a beer. Master Thomas asks pepper to go and get two beers and a juice for itself. Master explains that He will share His beer with the slave.

pepper comes back with the drinks on a tray along with a bowl of Chex Mix and lies the bowl on the couch between the Masters and hands each His drink, and settles down on the floor between its Master’s legs. Master takes a drink of His beer and then takes another and taps me on the shoulder. I kneel up before Him with head back and mouth open, and Master pours the beer from His mouth into mine. Master Thomas watches the exchange and marvels at it. “do you do that all the time?”

“As often as possible. What I aim for is that almost anything that the slave is allowed to eat or drink comes directly from My body, from My mouth or My fingers. Obviously this cannot happen all the time, but as much as possible it does. And so, . . . He feeds another mouthful to the slave.

“hot idea,” says Thomas. “I can’t do that right here because I’ve forbidden the slave to taste alcohol. It never has before, so it simply won’t get to start. The same goes for coffee.” pepper is a virgin about a lot of things, so as I continue to care for the slave, I intend to prevent it from acquiring some habits that are common to Free Men.”

“Commendable,” says Master. “I appreciate your dedication to caring for Your slave, not only for training it or teaching it more about submission.”

“it’s obvious from its past that this slave can force itself to submit to just about anything. What I’ve got to deal with is teaching it when submission is safe and possible, and when it needs to use safe words. This is still a struggle, but I’m a patient man, and I care deeply for this adorable little boy.”

“Little boy? How old is pepper, after all?” asks Master.

“Nineteen going on twenty,” answers Thomas. Michael had falsified its records to list it as 21. I sent it to its parents first of all, to reconcile, and then to get the birth certificate which provides proof of its real age. I absolutely do not want this boy separated from its family. After all, they have always been okay with pepper being gay, but they are still a little weary of our age difference, having realized that pepper has a thing for older men, and I’ve succeeded in convincing them that there are obvious benefits in some situations such as ours. Although recently reticent, they have come to accept Me as a member of the family, primarily because I have done the boy so much good and helped get it from a dangerous situation. And also because I have managed to get the slave an apprenticeship with a master furniture craftsman I know, someone who understands the Dom/sub dynamic as well, and who will respect pepper’s inner nature and even works with it from time to time. Five hours a day, four days each week. I haven’t mentioned pepper’s slave name, especially since I intend to change it. At work it goes by its legal name, Clyde.”

“Apprenticeship! That’s excellent!” praises Master. “Happy to hear about the family situation as well, Thomas,” says Master. “alex is estranged from its family and has been for several years and we have not investigated it any further . . . yet.” He lightly slaps me on the back of my head. A reminder of something I do not want to think about. I keep safe wording every time Master wants to address it with me, but I fear He is getting impatient about this and suspect that some discipline is going to be part of my immediately future. “In fact,” says Master, “we are going to discuss this a bit more when we get home. With the slave over My lap, if You get My meaning, Tommy.”

They both chuckle and I blush. pepper just keeps drinking its juice and doesn’t appear to have focused on the conversations taking place.

 

Master continues speaking. “I’ve kept alex’ legal name because that is how I knew the slave when we were classmates in school, so I’ve always thought of it with this name. Just the other day, however, I’ve decided it needs a slave name, so I named it ’15.’ Purely and simple. 15. Nonetheless, I’m not accustomed to using it yet.”

“Whatever we’re comfortable with, right, Billy? After all, We’re the Masters.” Laughter.

Finally, the pleasant visit comes to an end and I am once again in the car with my legs spread and holding on to the seat behind me because for some reason, Master has decided to get especially tough and has been slapping and punching my open area all the way home. I’m happy that finally I have managed to sit up straight when my balls are hurt. Not happy that I enjoy the pain. Just happy, that I do not anger or disappoint Master, who has His own specific ideas about what His slave’s existence as a pain pig should be like.

Finally, Master speaks. “I will no longer use Michael to punish you, alex. However, I think that I’m going to consider using Mitchell from time to time, despite the fact that I know how much He turns you on. We’ll see, we’ll see.” Which means that He’ll see, He’ll see!

 

When we get back into the house, Master orders me into the bathroom because, He says, He has to piss. No nonsense this time. I kneel in the tub, just in case, and this time He makes me take His cock in my mouth and, sure enough, He begins to empty out His bladder into His slave’s mouth, throat and stomach. I take almost all of it, but at one point, back off, choke and let some of it fall from my mouth and dribble down my body, but quickly I take Him into my mouth again and concentrate on the act of swallowing like the urinal slave I am becoming. Master is very patient with me, fortunately, and sprays my front with warm water while urging me to empty my own bladder into the floor of the tub, and finally it is all washed down the drain and off my body. Once I’m allowed out of the tub, Master spends special time to make sure My cage is dry and also sprays something that smells nice into the cage.

“Let’s go into the living room. There is something I think we should discuss.” We go inside and He has me lie over His lap, then says, “It’s time to bring this up again in light of what we heard at Master Thomas’ home. I want to know about what’s going on between you and your family.” I hold my tongue while He waits. I’m not safewording, but I am violating one of Master’s rules that I always answer Him truthfully. At one particular time, He runs out of patience and begins to deliver a sharp hand-spanking to my ass cheeks. I breathe deeply and take it, knowing that if only I begin to say just one thing about my family, He will stop. The spanking continues and He has nothing to say. Well, not exactly true, because He is saying everything He wants to say with His hand as it crashes repeatedly down on His slave’s ass, and eventually I begin writhing and trying to escape the blows.

He grabs my arm and bends it behind me as He continues to thrash me and the tears begin to flow, but still I have absolutely nothing to say. Now I am sobbing, and all I can think of is the time that His father spanked me naked as a sign of my entrance into the family. He keeps hitting me and spreads the area and catches my upper legs and the crack of my ass. And I, the well-disciplined slave, sob through my tears, RED!” And immediately it stops. And He takes some pain cream out of the end table and gently rubs it into my ass, and my sobbing quiets down. Nothing else is said.

He orders me downstairs and into my cage. I painfully walk down there and get on all fours to enter the cage, and as I get in and He proceeds to lock the door, He says to me, “Oh, alex, I think that we should have another conversation about your family every other day.” I tremble inside, realizing that if He spanks me like this in two days, I will still be very sore from this spanking, and it is just going to get worse and worse. Maybe I should plan what to tell Him first about it all. For now, however, I’m locked in and it isn’t too late at night. No supper? No freedom until morning? Master goes upstairs, the lights go out except for some faint light through one of the upper windows in the dungeon, and I lie there, well whipped again, and being promised there will be more to come with no consideration given to how sore I will already be. And once again, I am locked up alone and abandoned, feeling the results of yet another thrashing. And yes, this is what I signed on for. Billy is worth it. He always has been. I wish I could have been His slave right from that day in tenth grade in the boys’ bathroom. But now, we’re just making up for lost time.