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Alyx and Unk
Part 1+2

by Alyx

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Copyright on this story text belongs at all times to the original author only, whether stated explicitly in the text or not. The original date of posting to the MMSA was: 02 Dec 1996

Part I

Alyx's mother had a much younger brother; in fact he was only 4 years older than Alyx himself, and they grew up together as children.

From the time he could first relate to others, Alyx was always transfixed by his uncle. To say he worshipped the ground he walked on would be an understatement. And the feeling was mutual. UNK (which was Alyx's first word... not mama, but UNK) doted on Alyx (he called him "Axxy") as well.

And so they made their way through life.

Many details could be filled in. Suffice it to say that as they grew older, Alyx' devotion to UNK (as well as his submission) grew deeper and deeper. UNK was uncle, older brother, best friend, mentor, protector to the little boy, and the only one who could get through to him when he was moody or disturbed (which happened often). It should come as no surprise that as time went on, and as the boys grew older, UNK also began filling the role of disciplinarian in Alyx's life.

Tragedy struck Alyx's life at age 12. One night, both of his parents were killed in a car crash.

Alyx was unconsolable. The only thing that calmed him down was to cry himself to sleep in his uncle's arms. He moved in with his grandparents, (UNK's parents), and, too grief-stricken to do much themselves, they asked UNK if he would take Alyx under his wing. Eventually, Alyx's bed was moved into his uncle's room, although it was seldom used, because the only way he could sleep without nightmares was to sleep in his uncle's arms.

And when, from time to time, he needed to be punished, (which became far more frequently than anyone other than he and his uncle knew) he cried himself to sleep in his uncle's arms: naked, welted, weeping and more at peace than at any other moment in his life...

Part II

Alyx got his first serious thrashing from his UNK when he was 13, and UNK a senior in high school. It was memorable, because it set the tone for what was to be an important part of their lifestyle for years and years to come.

It seems that he had fallen in with a bad crowd. (As I said earlier, Alyx was always a rather wild young man at heart, and needed to have the reins hauled in from time to time.) And one day, he and his three buddies were caught shoplifting at a comic-book store, and were hauled down to the police station.

As usual, UNK was the one sent down to retrieve his shame-faced boy. He arrived with the other dads, who had driven down together in a van. One of the other fathers, a big guy named Hank Harris, told the other "parents" that his kid Nick was heading straight for the woodshed for the whipping of his life. As soon as Nick heard this, the tears began to form in his eyes, and all the others present realized that he was no stranger to woodshed discipline, and that it was something he "respected" and feared, as well a wayward boy should.

Then Mr. Harris said something which struck a blow into the guts of the other three boys: "If any of you gentlemen want your boys to be howling along with mine tonight, I'll be happy to see to it that these partners in crime become partners in punishment as well."

"Sounds good," said Mr. Cottlidge. "Take my Billy along. He's had it too easy... I guess this is what he needs, so don't spare the rod."

"Jim will be going too," said the third angry father, "and it will be only the first night. I'll follow up myself for three more nights afterwards, but it's a good idea that they should get whipped together tonight. And keep him tied up naked until I come round to fetch him. I may want to add a few finishing touches myself."

Then he turned to UNK: "What about Alyx, boy? Do you want to call his grandfather to see if he can complete the group."

Well, let me tell you, I'd seen UNK angry before, but never like this. His face grew beet red, and I could see that he was struggling not to lose his temper. I wasn't sure what would have him the maddest: that I was considered part of this group of low-lifes, or that Jim's dad called him "boy,", or that they just naturally assumed he needed permission for anything at all concerning me.

And to tell you the truth, I kind of expected that he wouldn't let those creeps get their hands on me. I thought this is where he'd protect me the way he always did. You could just imagine my shock as well as my embarrassment when he spoke up and said:

"My grandpa leaves things to me when it comes to disciplining Alyx. And he's never been whipped before the way you gentlemen are talking about. So I guess that it's about time. He was tough enough to get involved with these boys, so he might as well take the consequences along with them. But if it's OK with you, Mr. Harris, I'd like to go along. I'm probably gonna need to do this myself to him some day, and I'm sure there are things you could teach me about how to go about it. And besides, Alyx's mom asked me to always look out for him, and I guess that means this, too."

Mr. Harris, impressed by UNK's maturity and his manners (my hero!) readily invited him to bring me along.

I was numb from shock. And yet, deep down inside, I knew I was ready. All I needed was for UNK to be there, and be part of it.

As this strange troop of stern-looking parents and shamefaced, frightened boys made their way out the door of the station house, the only good thing we boys could see in all this was that all charges had been dropped by the store owner, a friend of Mr. Cottlidge's, once he knew that we were to be appropriately disciplined, and once all the dads and UNK agreed to bring me down to the shop the next day to strip for his inspection. (Actually, I think the dirty old man was more interested in seeing us nude than in the fact that our bodies would be marked by the lash.)

UNK held back so that we were the last to leave the station. As we went down the stairs he began massaging the back of my neck (which always calmed me down), and he whispered in my ear: "Don't worry, Axxy. I won't leave you. But I want you to promise me something."

I could barely manage to get the words out: "Wwwwwwhat's that, uuuunk?"

"I want you to make me proud of you." And with that, he squeezed my neck and gave me that special wink, the wink which always makes me WANT to do anything he asks. Anything at all.

And so we got in the van, and headed for our moment of reckoning.

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