The Alex Chronicles

Chapter 73

Black Tuesday: Mitchell arrives

I refer to it as Black Tuesday because that was the day Mitchell arrived to continue His training with Master, and when He got out of the limo, all I could see is black from head to toe because the sun was in my face. He emerged from the sunlight and I realized He had on black jeans, a black shirt and a leather vest over that. A pair of handcuffs was hanging from His left side and, in an attempt to copy Master, he held a riding crop in His hands. I know He is only a young man barely out of His teens, but I’ve got to tell you, my first instinct when I saw Him was to go and bow down at the feet of a Master.

Rather than do that, however, I took His two valises from the driver and proceeded to carry them into the room I got ready for Him yesterday. Master had some special things to dress up the room and make it look more like a Master’s den. Mitchell followed me in and told me where to put the valises as He looked around. “Damn, this room is fantastic. It’s going to keep Me horny all night long. I’ll have to keep the slave in bed with Me so I can fuck it when I wake up hard.” I know he was saying all that for effect. The truth is that I have absolutely no idea what He and Master are working out. I know there will be a lot of talking that I’ll not be privy to, but I also don’t know how much Master Mitchell (better start calling Him that) is going to be allowed to practice anything with me besides His usual way of degrading me. He goes a bit too far with that, in my humble opinion, but what do I know? I’m not here to judge His performance, and that’s something I’d better get into my head right away. I’m just here to make Master happy by serving Master Mitchell however He might want me to.

All I know is that Master Mitchell is going to be one hell of a Dom for the lucky boy who’s got the guts to investigate the scene under Master Mitchell’s direction. I put down the valises and Master Mitchell puts His hand heavily on my shoulder, and I kneel before Him, which is apparently what He wants, because He says, “good boy. Know its place.” and slaps my face back and forth a few times then reaches down to hurt my nipples more than they’re aleady hurting.

He sits on the bed. “Kiss My boots, slaveboy.” And I obey and stay there, not knowing whether I should kneel up again. I guess not, because He takes one of His boots and places it on my head, pushing me down into the ground. “Let’s just stay like this a while, boy, Me and you where we belong. Soak it up, slave.” And we stay there. And I breathe, and realize that this man is truly a Master.

Master comes in and looks at the scene and leaves, closing the door, saying nothing. After a good long while, Master Mitchell (I’m going to start calling Him just MM to save typing.) takes His foot off my head and uses it to kick me lightly on my chest, signaling that I’m to kneel up. Once I’m there, He slides His boot down my body, juggling the cage and kicking me in the balls hard enough to make my insides hurt.

“Stand up!” He orders. As soon as I’m standing He turns me around and looks me up and down, commenting, “Not much marked up. Good. I bet Master was saving this blank canvas for Me to make My mark on. Sure hope so.” I know my ass is sore from yesterday’s spanking, but I rarely mark up for very long, so it probably doesn’t look like I got thrashed again for not speaking about my family. When the fuck am I going to just give in and tell Him? He is unhappy that I’m refraining. I know that. And it makes things very hard for me and there is hardly anything more I can to do change that for Him unless I reveal what happened the year after we graduated from High School, when I was 18.

Got distracted but MM brought me quickly back to attention when He cracked His crop over my already sore and aching ass. “Where did you go, slave? What were you thinking about? Expose your mind to me.” I practically mumble . . . “how Master keeps spanking me because of something I’m holding back from Him.”

“Interesting. Something else for me to ask about. What kind of spanking is your Master giving you?”

“Over the knees, spanked by hands, until slave is crying and sobbing. No safe word allowed.”

“Boys like you definitely need it often. Nice to know that OTK can be so effective. Your Master must have very powerful hands.”

“Not much bigger than mine, Sir. But they’re powerful . . to use Your word, Sir.”

“I’ll have to ask for a demonstration.”

He opens the door and goes to the living room, and I follow, standing and not on a leash. Master is sitting on the couch barefoot and when we walk in, He says, “home!” and I throw myself on the ground before Him and put my tongue and mouth to His toes that He is wiggling.

“Billy may I ask why you do that so often, putting the slave working Your feet?”

“Several reasons. First of all, it feels wonderful. Just my thing—doesn’t have to be yours. Then also, I like to have the slave with me but often don’t have something for it to do. This way, it can always keep active and busy in a way that most men would find humiliating, and while it is doing it, the fact that it is a slave, My slave, is constantly on its mind, and then finally that it has a chance to be making love to its Master with its mouth and tongue.”

“Very good reasons. I’ll have to investigate it with this boy when I play with it.”

“One warning about this, however. Some guys, in fact, most guys would not want to do this and would fight you too early in the game. But some slaves, like this one, have a foot fetish, so I’m just taking advantage of it. You need to feel out the guy a bit. Find out what makes the boy excited, what does it seem inclined to do, and what are its fetishes if it even realizes it has any at so young an age.”

And their conversation continues and I really work hard at losing myself in what I’m doing for Master, and I get lost in my own thoughts, thoughts about the things I don’t want to tell Master, but this gets me depressed, and I tune in again to what MM is saying to Master.

“So I’ve asked it to do a couple simple things for Me, like get Me a bottle of water or help Me with things around My apartment, and it keeps telling Me how good it feels to be with Me in My apartment and how much it enjoys doing things to help Me out. So I asked it how it would feel about being in charge of My laundry and it actually smiled ear to ear and said, “sure. Whatever you want, Mitchell.”

“And you know it’s gay?”

“I think it’s gay. It knows I’m gay.”

“I’m betting that it’s begging You to get it started, and it also appears that it has a domestic servitude interest as well. I have to torture My slave to keep this place clean. So anyway, what’s the next thing for you to ask?”

“I’m thinking a massage, and while I’m stripping down to my underwear, tell it that I’d prefer it also strips down like me.”

“Excellent. That will show you for sure it’s into obeying you, and I was thinking that you give very explicit instructions about the massage and about how it is touching You, especially Your ass, and then You roll over and it sees that You are hard . . . then what does it do . . . how does it look at it …

“Right. Then I can it him if he’s ever touched a hard cock before. Then let it. Then go wherever it takes us.”

“Exactly. Just make sure You don’t surprise it with anything that You haven’t already discussed with it. it could be that it’s straight but is seeking the utter humiliation it would have to endure by serving a gay Master. That would be particularly interesting to explore.  Finally, it it’s gay You’ve got to let it say with its own words that it is gay and wants to be Your boy, and then, step by step, You lead it where it is ready to go. The big question You have keep asking Yourself is whether or not it is ready. You might luck out. It could be the type of guy who will lay it all out on the table for You, but the classiness of the seduction is essential.”

“That’s right. With Your slave I can just about try anything I want to and be as creative as possible.”

“Right. But my slave isn’t a beginner. And is really into submitting to You, in case You haven’t noticed.”

Now I’m really tuning in.

MM speaks. “Maybe some day I’ll be rich enough to buy it for you, this slave.”

“Mitchell, You are going to have You pick of scores of eager young subs looking for just what You have to provide, believe me. Word gets around very quickly. Now let’s go downstairs and I’ll show off some of My toys to You and maybe You can even try a couple out.”

Master stands up, which is my signal to just kneel up and wait for the next command, or to stay there if no command is coming. He orders me to stand up and follow them downstairs.

Not too long after that, I find myself chained to the wall, collar, wrists spread wide and my legs pulled up by overhead pulleys so that they too are spread in a hideously inviting position, with groin and balls and taint and hole easily available to a Master’s treatment. I can’t help keeping my eyes on Mitchell, and Master calls me out on it and blindfolds me. Hands caress and explore my exposed flesh, all over, and Master removes the cage so Mitchell can see for sure how under-endowed this slave is and that is why this sub needs to be subservient to all Superior Men. The exploring turns to slaps and pinches here and there, and one good rap to my balls has me howling into the air and desperately trying to reposition myself, but to no avail.

“Let’s play a game,” says Master. “One of us is going to hit you and you will guess which one it is. If you’re right, that hit is over. If you’re wrong, you get 5 slaps by the Master Who did hit you, all in the same place. You guess right, we move on. You guess wrong, you get more pain as a prize. . . . Okay, here comes the first one: a sharp crack to my inner thigh.

“Master.” It’s correct. I knew because that was one of His favorite places to hit me.

Second: a slap to my right nipple.  I guess MM, but I’m wrong and Master slaps me 5 times there any my nipple is in the land of pain again.

A slap to the left side of my face which causes me to go to the other side. “MM”  Correct, again. It’s just that I know what He likes to do to me.

Damn! a strong hard crack right across my hole. Uh oh, who?  I guess MM and again I’m right.

“Okay, enough of that game. Time for some lube and ass play. The slave can stay the way it is.”

I was hoping to be taken down or moved because this is tough hanging here with little support, always afraid that I’m gonna pull from the wall and come crashing down.

“Go ahead, lube it up,” Master says to MM and He begins just spreading it around and patting my hole.

“Okay, boy, now watch:” Master used the lube to caress me and claim me for Himself as He does so often, and I feel His finger enter me and feel around. He hears me breathing heavily and knows He is doing well so He inserts a second finger and scissors me with them inside me. Master takes out his fingers and tells Mitchell to copy His actions. Mitchell’s finger is outside my ass and I can sense Master making gestures and Mitch trying to copy and He isn’t doing too badly and damn it starts to feel good. Master tells Him to feel around for the prostate, and damn, He manages to find it and as he caresses, I start moaning like a slut and precum pours from me.

“Okay, two fingers, boy.” Again Mitchel copies what Master is doing in the air (I guess, since I’m still blindfolded.) And damn, He does a pretty good job. “Did you find someone to practice with, Mitch?”

“Not really. To tell the truth, I’ve been doing it to Myself.”

“Good for You, Mitchell. A good Dom has to know what everything feels like or He’s not got enough information to work a slave into advanced states of pain.”

“Does that go for spanking/whipping as well?”

“I believe it does. That’s how I was taught. Hated it, but now I’m glad I did it because I find it just about a natural thing to be able to control, train, and punish this slave without breaking its spirit or causing it to want to run.”

“Hmmm,” says Mitchell, pensively.

“Well, think about it. Just a little goes a long way, and You and I will do it in private.”

“Okay, You’re on.”

“after I put this slave to bed. First I want to work on technique with the strap. Help me take this slave down and get all the iron off it. Good job with that, by the way.”

Of course, no praise for the slave, who was the one who had to hang there until things almost started to cramp up. But I’ve got to stop thinking that things are supposed to be fair. They are both Masters. I am a slave. What does fair mean, anyway, in my position?

 

Once I’m down and my limbs are functioning properly, Master lays me over a spanking stool and fastens both wrists and ankles to the stool so I have little ability to move.

“Can I try something?” asks Mitchell.

“Go ahead.” He walks over to me and says to me, “Look at you all tied up in that embarrassing position, unable to move, while there are two Superior Men here who are going to take a strap to you for our own enjoyment. That’s what you’re worth: something for us to practice on.” And He spits in my face and rubs it in as He lays a few more hard slaps across my face.

“Mitch, it will take a long while before You ever get a sub to take that, so You’d better just practice here until You know the boy You’re interested in would be able to tolerate it. Now, the belt.”

He demonstrates some swings and tells Mitchell that His slave is already sore from last night’s spanking, so they’re going to go easy. Master takes the first hit. It lands and hurts but doesn’t bite too much. He then invites Mitchell to try Himself, and the bite is there and I yelp hard. “Try again, hit a different spot, but not quite as hard,” says Master, and again Mitchell lashes me with the strap and now the severity isn’t too bad. “Very good,” says Master. “Try 5 or six like that, but watch the slave’s reactions. You might see that it has hit its absolute limit. In that case, just don’t give as many as You intended.”

He’s definitely getting better at it, but by about #4 I’m close to the breaking point, and, how about that?! Mitchell stops. Master congratulates Him.

“That’s enough for tonight. As a special courtesy of the house, I am giving the slave to You for the evening for whatever You want except fucking it.. Beyond that, the slave is Yours to enjoy. And don’t forget that words of praise or acts of affection are also quite helpful in the process of taking over a slave’s life and training it to belong to you.”

We go upstairs and before Master goes into His own room, He says, “By the way, slave, from now on you will be drinking Master Mitchell’s piss if He wants to use you that way.” I’m shocked, but it’s Mitchell, so the idea kind of turns me on even though it still isn’t my favorite thing to do.