At night, they were left the same in the playroom, together. Ad was afraid to look at Alon. Fingers no longer ached after the doctor had glued the bones. The rubbed genitals burned, Ad didn’t recall abusing him today when the masters furiously rushed at him, didn’t feel the needle stretching the testicles, he was busy with his pain, his offence. Alon threw the candy he had been holding in his hand all day to Ad. The handsome picked up a piece of candy, clenched it in the palm, sat down on the mat and began to untwist the spoke. Threw it away. Alon got out a hidden handful of candy and poured in front of Ad.

“Thank you, my god,” Ad quietly said.

“Are you hungry?”

Ad obediently nodded.

“You may do that today, and from tomorrow, you will eat what they give.”

The boy crawled up to Alon, let him in his throat, began to caress. Ad caressed the man long winding up dead from humiliation. Alon, feeling like shit, ordered:

“Hurry up.”

Ad a few times beautifully squeezed throat, the cum burned his food pipe. He obediently let the man out of himself. Alon turned away and pretended to be asleep. Ad pressed against the man's back, trying not to move, so as not to disturb the man, the boy breathed softly, slowly-slowly. Alon felt even nastier but decided to finish the boy, got up and left the litter. Ad closed hand, like a wing, quietly began to cry, afraid to disturb Alon with the tears. Sobs silently shook the beautiful body. In the morning, Stine entered the room, unhooked the boy from the chain and lifted him up.

“My sweet,” whispered the master.

The boy, who hadn’t been asleep, threw up, getting off the hands of Stine.

“Quiet, quiet, don't be afraid. Come with me,” Stine held him.

Ad was moaning in disgust, but he was very weak with the day before. Stine took Ad away.

The last two months have been a torture both for Alon and Paris. Ad refused to leave. He calmed down, turning into a beautiful sleeping statue. The boy refused to eat, refused to carry out any orders, often merely not hearing them. The masters were afraid that he would die of hunger, ordered Alon to feed Ad. Alon fed the boy from his palm with some food and sperm. When the man cummed in the palm of his hand, he came to Ad, holding out his palm, each time waiting for the boy to push his hand away. Ad kept palm carefully, licking the taste of a man and cleaning the hand of Alon.

The boy was as if in a state of hibernation. Paris was waiting for the boy to give up. Alon, too. Gene once again took the couple and stopped coming.

Once again, they were brought from the party; it was inconvenient to walk, the couple was tightened to each other with spokes. Alon was carrying the boy.

“Tomorrow you will go with master Paris,” Alon started the old song when they were left alone, still chained. Alon was ordered to make sure Ad wouldn’t spin the needle.

Ad didn't answer, staring straight ahead.

“Do you get it, I don't want you near me.”

In the eyes of Ad froze tears that came out only at night, only this said that the boy was alive, in all the other cases he behaved like a doll. Ad began to unscrew the needle to go in the corner and not to interfere with Alon.

“No,” the man stopped him. “I don't want to see you in my life.”

“I can't leave. Kill me if you don't need me,” Ad quietly asked. “I can't do anything. I do love you. I have no reason to go there. It's easier for me to die near you.”

“It only seems so,” Alon said. “You'll see.”

“I can't see anything, I'm not going to look,” Ad was lying on Alon, the boy turned away, arranging his head on the man's chest.

Alon frantically gasped, weightlessly patted the boy on the back, Ad went hungrily for caresses.

“I can't bear to see you here,” said Alon.

“Strangle me. Eight seconds of time,” said the boy.

“As soon as you die, I’ll die. I have no reason to live,” Alon gave up.

The boy turned to the man painfully pulling the clutch. The man cried, turning away.

“Why are you persecuting me, then?”

“It's not a decent place for you.”

“There is no place for me more decent than beside you,” wary, distrustfully said Ad.

“Ad, I'd like to give you everything I have, but I have nothing.”

Ad pulled the clutch again; eyes shone even in the dark.

“Yes? Yes? I knew you love me!” screamed the boy, attacking the man and kissing him.

“Yes, I love you,” through tears smiled Alon. “But Ad,” the man said sternly. “I'm still a slave, though. And you are invited by the rich and powerful master.”

“I need you,” the boy muttered, kissing Alon. “You're powerful too ... you have no idea what power you have on me.”

Alon laughed, cuffed on the boy’s nape.

“I'm not leaving without you...” the boy was curing.

The man kissed the face and the head of Ad. The boy arched, began to unscrew the needle.

“I am very pleased that you came to me,” Alon kissed the boy where he could reach. “But I think I'm ruining you.”

“How can you ruin me?..”

“Well, judging by what you were doing in the last two months…”

“Was I doing?!” the boy protested.

Alon patted the boy's body.

“You're persistent. I missed you.” Alon caressed Ad.

Ad choked with emotion, let Alon in himself, the man sweetly long owned Ad. Ad was pouring out, quietly screaming. The beast laid the boy in front of him, bolting him to himself and entering him. Ad shuddered in lust, wrapping in the arms of Alon.