"I am yours. I love you."
A promise made from the bottom of his heart A promise which was part of his very existence.
A promise given in truth, in love, in devotion.
A promise which proved too difficult to keep. Even for Alyx.
But who are we to judge? Is there any among us who has not broken the promises made at moments of intense love? Is there any of us who can really offer the single-minded, undivided devotion that UNK understood when he looked into his boy's eyes and heard him pledge himself.
And a firm pledge it was. Many, many times it would be repeated as the two faced each other, eyes to eyes, soul to soul.
It only took a look from UNK, a look that only Alyx could read, to require him to take a deep breath, and draw deeply from inside of himself, and define himself again. And, as the years went on, Alyx knew that it was a those times that he surrendered to the bonds of slavery again and again and again. Sometimes, as he stared into the beautiful boy's eyes, UNK voiced the question. "Who are you, Alyx?" And always the same answer. And UNK would stare at him with the kind of love that was more important than air to him, and he would wait, patiently, for as long as it took, for the words which meant more every time they were uttered.
And sometimes it took Alyx a long time to answer. At every instance, Alyx needed to answer in the present, and commit himself to the unforeseeable future. He could always answer "I am your nephew," and then it would be so: He would be UNK's beloved nephew, whom he loved as a brother and as a son. And that would be the complete extent of their relationship, forever more. He would not lose his Uncle, but he would lose the freedom he found in his slavery, for all time. But if he once again said, "I am yours," he would again be as a naked youth on auction block, offering his hands to be bound, and led away to a future which he could not control.
UNK had taught him that those words were not to be said lightly, because they would never be taken lightly. And they were not asked lightly, either.
And, like all the most important lessons in life, it was a very difficult lesson to learn.
He learned it the first night he had uttered those words, standing outside the car, and as he slept on the way home, with his head resting in his brother's lap, his uncle stroked his hair and considered how his boy would receive his first lesson in the power of what that pledge would mean.
He pulled the car into a gas station and parked at the pay telephones. He gently raised Alyx into a sitting position and whispered, "Alxxy, just be still for a minute. I need to make a call. I will be right back." And despite whatever risk there may have been (UNK never concerned himself with risks, and, as we will learn, never really ever needed to), he kissed Alyx on the lips and said to him, "Ilove you too, and I want you to be mine. That is why I bought you tonight, my love."
He got from the car and made a quick phone call. In a jiffy, they were back on the road. But he didn't take the route that would lead home. At the traffic light, he made a left turn, heading in the direction of the park they had walked through the other night.
"Where are we going, Unk?" said the boy.
"Just be still, Axxy. I have something I need to do for you. Something I need you to do for me." And he stopped the car in a darkened section of the road, and turned to face his confused boy. "Look at me, Alyx."
And as his eyes locked on Alyx's, he gave "the look" for the first time. What did you say to me outside the car,boy?"Alyx didn't flinch. Didn't blink. Didn't hesitate. "I am yours." And he lowered his eyes.
"Well then, boy, there are a couple of things that you must do for me."
"-----anything. You know that, UNK."
"Anything is a pretty big word, Axxy. Anything could mean a lot more than you can handle."
"----UNK I'm yours. Unk, I know you'd never hurt me."
Unk continued to drive. Well then, boy, there are two things:
"Unk, why are you calling me boy? You've never done that before."
Unk grabbed the boy's hand. Because I know what it felt like to be called that when we were in the police station. And because I think you need fo feel that way, too, tonight. Axxy took a deep breath and squeezed UNK's hand.
"Now, boy: two things:" "----Yes....sssssssir.... (another word never spoken between them). -----anything."
"First: you must never mention to anyone what you saw back there tonight. That was between me and you. The other guys don't have to know.Never. Ever." Alyx nodded.
"And the second thing is this: without saying a word, without hesitating, and as quickly as you can, Alyx, -----
"Take
"off
"your
"clothes."
UNK spoke while the boy began to strip himself. "YOu didn't have to strip for that man, but from now on, you will strip fo me anytime I want you to. And others will see you naked if I decide they may. And you will never get over being embarrassed. You will never ever get used to it. It will always be as embarrassing as if you were suddenly driven from the gym locker room and onto the stage in front of the entire school. Stark naked. With nowhere to hide."
Alyx said nothing. He finished undressing and sat motionless, his head bowed. He put his hands over his crotch, but UNK lightly smacked his arm. Alyx understood, and with another submissive breath, took his hands away, and spreadhis legs, and waited for further instructions.
He finally stopped the car. "You know where that path leads, Alyx?"
"YYYYes, SSSSir. It leads to the Harrises."
"And?"
------ttttto the WWWwoodshed."
"That's right, boy. Mr. Harris is waiting there for you now. With Nick. You go there now. And when you get there, beg him to whip you. Exactly as much as Nick receives. And then a little more. I'll be back to pick you up tomorrow morning; I'll tell Mom andDad that you're spending the night with Nick. No go, boy."
UNK reached over and opened the car door. And as Alyx got out of the car, he reached over and smacked him on the rump.
"One more thing, boy," he said before Alyx closed the car door. "Do NOT cum. Not because you are being punished, Axxy. Just because. Because you are mine."
ALYX AND UNK
. . . . he sobbed into his pillow---well, Nick's pillow, that is, since both boys had been sent to Nick's room after being thoroughly flogged from the neck to the knees by Nick's father in the woodshed. This was the second of two nights that Alyx found himself bound nude and lashed by his best friend's father, but this night UNK was not with him, and he knew there would be little mercy, and he also knew that he would ask for no mercy after what his uncle had had to endure for his sake. Just the thought that "I am doing this to please my uncle," gave him a courage that he never knew he had. And which he needed very badly this night.
For the flogging itself was a nightmare. And he found himself falling deeper and deeper into the blackness of this awful experience, and as he fell, he realized that he was being driven down beneath any level of humiliation and helplessness and slavery that he ever had imagined possible. And he realized that it was from "down there" that he would serve his uncle/brother/friend/mentor/lover/master, and that it was "down there" and only "down there" that he would ever feel safe, and at peace, and even, in some strange way, loved.
The nightmare began the moment he uncovered his genitals and spread his legs in the car because he had no right to cover himself before UNK or any other person that UNK ever allowed to see him. And when driven out into the night, completely nude, with a swat on the backside and the command "Do not cum, Alxy," he made his way painfully through the moon-lit woods, hoping that no one would come upon him, but also dreading what was waiting at his arrival.
As the cool night air invaded his nakedness, he felt even more stipped. As the mosquitos bit at his flesh, he felt exposed to the lash of anyone who wanted to whip him. As his feet stumbled and hurt from the roughness of the wooded path, he felt the humiliation of every slave who had ever been dragged naked and barefoot before the crowd of the free. And when he remembered that UNK had driven him into the woods this way, he felt like the slave torn from the arms of the master he loved and brought to the whipping post of the executioner who would not care for him one iota, but would care only to make sure that he endured pain unlike he had ever experienced before.
When he walked into the woodshed it was exactly as he had dreaded. Both Mr. Harris and his son Nick were fully clothed, and stood there staring at Alyx's pitiful state and his nakedness as he presented himself before them.
And then the shame of what he had to say: "UNK asked that you give me the same whipping you are going to give NIck. . . and then sssssssssome mmmore, Sir."
Mr. Harris looked him right in the eyes. "It will be my pleasure to do so, boy." And Alyx knew then that it would, indeed, bring pleasure to the man. And that made the punishment even more humiliating: not only was he stripped bare and to be bound helpless; not only would he receive a beating that would leave him sobbing and hoarse and covered with welts; but also, the man who was beating him would ENJOY the sights and sounds of his agony and shame.
And so it began. And quickly all details blended together into a timeless morass of shame, humiliation, noise, pain and strange sensations. He surrendered into it, and lost himself within it all, and something happened to him that poor Nick could barely understand, something that he couldn't even talk about later when they were both lying, face down, on his bed, crying out the last of their tears.
For Nick it was punishment, and nothing more. It was hell. It hurt and he hated it. But yet, at the same time, he knew something was happening to his buddy (they were, after all, spreadeagles face-to-face until the last lash of the switch (saved especially for Alyx) had made its marks on his ass and upper thighs.
Like I said, he couldn't understand it, but yet he responded instinctively with the that special feeling that came over almost everyone who had ever been near Alyx at intimate moments of his life: He wanted to take care of him.
And even though his voice was raw and still breaking from his own ordeal, Nick turned his face to the side, and looked at Alyx,still buried in the pillow and said, "Are you OK, buddy?" Silly question, but it was the thought that counted.
He felt compelled to say more: "I hate getting whipped by Pa, but I'm used to it. I've been getting it a lot lately. Even worse than tonite. But you, buddy......_s_h_i_t_.....i could feel every lah you got when you jumped up against me. _d_a_m_n_. you were really hurting."
"Nick," our boy answered...."just be quiet. shut up. just stay close to me, please."
Now most boys, if they had undergone such an ordeal together, especially the physical contact that had been forced on them, would probably have difficulty even looking at one another let alone speaking or touching. But for Alyx and Nick, it was a moment of bonding, as their whipped spirits sought solace in one another.
And, mind you, this would not be the last time. Not by a long shot. For UNK was going off to college in a few months. And from time to time, Alyx would be ordered to report to the woodshed again. And, since he and Nick spent so much of their time together (in fact, most of the kids in high school suspected they were queer lovers by the time they were in 11th grade), very often they both got in trouble for the same thing and both howled out their contrition in the depths of the night, as fresh welts were laid across their naked flesh once again. And there were times, like that first night, when other boys were there to watch or even to shed tears of their own.
But it was not written in the stars that Alyx and Nick would be equals in the important matter of discipline of young men. No, that was not meant to be. In fact, as time went on, Alyx would be be the only boy naked, welted and weeping in the Harris Woodshed. And it wouldn't be Mr. Harris who would be swinging the strap. It would be Nick himself.
There was something in Alyx that seemed to raise those he loved to positions of dominance over him. And it would always be that way. And so, as the years went on, more and more, UNK turned not to Mr. Harris but to Nick himself when he felt the need to make sure his young lover received the discipline he needed so badly. And Alyx was grateful for this, for "just to be whipped" by a man who enjoyed it was absolutely not what he needed. He needed to e loved, and cared for, and disciplined, and, yes, dominated by those who could also say to him "I love you, Axxy."
Nick and Alyx never became lovers, although they did share many moments of schoolboy intimacies. Nick, in fact, went on to marry and raise children of his own. Children who, in their own turn, would understand the beautiful necessity of occasional trips to the woodshed.
But that night, the night they were whipped while practically in one another's arms, as they laid there together in Nick's room, it quickly became clear that Alyx was always meant to be the "little buddy," the lesser of the two, or, if you will, the "punk."
When they were finally able to move, and both sat up, they noted that they both were hard as boys so often are after being thrashed. Nick reached for Alyx, as they had both done so many ties in the past. But Alyx backed away before Nick could touch him. "No," he said. "I can't. UNK said NO, and he meant it." "---C'mon, Alyx, how will he know?" "He'll know," Alyx said slowly and thoughtfully. "And even if he didn't, I'll know......and I ....I ... just...can't, Nick. I can't."
Nick gave a shrug as if to say, "Too weird for me. too weird." And then he said, "Well I do what I want, and right now I want to get off."
Alyx smiled at his friend. "Well then, it's just a cum we'll have to share, good buddy." And slowly, and not without a certain amount of pain, he got down on his knees before Nick and reached out for him, the slaveboy, naked, whipped, marked by the lash, offering himself in his pain for the pleasure of another. Offering himself willingly, lovingly. Expecting no pleasure for himself in return, no pleasure at all except the pleasure of being who he was meant to be.