THE BOY AUSTIN chapter 1 - The Merchandise

About this scene

Breaking a boy in is hard work. Even when they want it--when they know they need it--it's truly more of a delicate art than a science. You have to study the boy, feel his body, feel his will, find where he's his strongest... and where he's his most vulnerable. When I found little Austin, he was alone and cold on the street. He appeared frail, too small and thin to be a man full grown. It wasn't until I thoroughly assessed him that I found that this was just his natural way. He would always seem small and frail. And in my experience, that is what many of my clients find the most valuable. For Austin, breaking him wasn't just a matter of showing him my authority. It was clear he would listen to me and do what I told him. But when I touched him, he had a moment of hesitation. A doubt. A feeling in his mind that he was supposed to protect himself. Protect something he'd been told was his. This was part of the correction process. Part of the hard work ahead. All his life, he'd been told he was his own person. His own man. That he needed to be strong and independent. Responsible for his future and that path he would walk. I could see it in his eyes as soon as he looked back up at me. He was lost, confused, and desperate for a place in this world. He didn't want this responsibility. He didn't want to have that burden. Austin first needed to be stripped of himself. His identity. His history and expectations. I brought him into the staging area, a dark, secluded room where I could help him undergo this essential transformation. He was nervous and shaking, as any lamb would be when brought to an altar of sacrifice. But through the fear in his eyes, I could see his heart bursting with hope. He didn't know what was coming, but deep down, I knew he'd be happy that he didn't have to be the one to decide. I ran my hands over his body, feeling him, assessing him. He trembled a good deal. Something to fix before he heads to auction. I placed him down on all fours, splayed out, still