Alon looked at Ad, and he was looking trustingly at the man.

“I will sew,” he didn’t want to put the stamps of the masters on the body of Ad. And ... he already had cauterized, but he hadn’t sewed him up. He must have admitted, the insane idea of Gene brought enchanting all-consuming delight. And Alon was beginning to enjoy the pain of Ad. Gene got up, went for the thread, it was right there in the games room. Threw a silver hank on the pillows, sat back on the chair, smeared with his sperm. The beast threaded a needle, tried to fold the muscles so as not to leave a hernia. The sperm and blood rose upward, seeking to splash out.

“No. Skin only,” said Gene.

Alon shrugged, his sperm will remain in the soul of Ad, he was sure. Folded the skin, sat across the boy's body, pinning him with the legs so he wouldn’t twitch, stuck the needle into the skin. Ad injuring quietly cried out.

“Sew a letter,” said Gene. Alon did not ask again, deciding to pretend that hadn’t understood and embroidered the letter "A" on the chest of Ad. Ad was crying out in pain, clawing the Alon’s leg. The action brought a lot of pleasure to the man; he smiled as if not noticing the suffering of the boy. When he finished, he bent down, licked the wound and released off Ad. He clutched the wound and cringed.
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