On the list of things I didn't want to do, this was in the top ten. Beating Heero was right up there amongst killing babies and kicking the shit out of nuns. It was close to pistol-whipping Relena, my own sister. But if I didn't beat Heero, he might grow suspicious, and then the mission would have to be scrapped. With that thought in mind, I led the unresistant Heero down the hall to the playroom.

Playroom was probably a bad name for that particular room. It would be better suited as something like, "the rape and torture room," or "the kinky bondage sex room." For that is what it really was. I won't even describe what all was in that room, for I, thankfully, never had to use most of it.

Predominant in the room was a rack with tethers in each corner to hold the arms and legs. It was more than strong enough to hold the boy that entered before me, but I decided against using it. I had to punish him, but I would do no good by causing permanent damage. Besides, I could completely understand his reason for running away, so I tried to appease some of my guilty conscience by using a lesser punishment that I would have had he attached me or become violent and disobedient. As it was, I had never expressly forbidden him from running away, so he hadn't actually broken a promise to me.

I left Heero standing near the door as I opened one of the many trunks and pulled out a slim wooden paddle. Heero watched it as I turned around, but wouldn't show fear on his face. I know I must have looked intimidating, in a pair of plain blue sleeping pants and a white wife-beater top. When it came to muscles, I might not be the biggest, but I was certainly nothing to scoff at. Compared to Heero, I looked like I could easily break the boy in half.

Heero showed nothing on his face, though. As I thought back, I couldn't remember a time he'd shown any deep emotion on his face, except for the moment he woke up in the car. It seemed as though he had somehow managed to bury almost all of his emotions. I realized that I couldn't allow that. If I was going to win his trust, I needed to win his emotions.

For trust is what I truly needed from him. More than obedience, I needed to know that I could trust him, and that he would trust me as well. Without trust, I could not open communication to learn what only slaves knew within Collar. Of course, it was almost hypocritical of me to ask for such trust, as I could not trust him with information about my true motives. I would ask him to bear his soul to me, but I could not even let him know the type of man I truly was.

"Did you know that I was once an interrogator, and a spy?" I asked. Heero only tensed, thinking perhaps that I was trying to bully him. I sat down in the chair, crossing my legs and leaning forward. "I don't say this to scare you, I merely want you to know that I am aware of people who are false, and I will not tolerate any fake crying or moaning."

I stopped talking and watched Heero. He nodded, and I could tell that he was thinking I had asked him not to cry out, and he would do his best not to.

"Good. Now, understand, this exercise is not only about punishing you for trying to escape, but also about teaching you to reveal emotion. I know that you haven't known me for very long, but you must learn to trust me fairly quickly. As such, I am going to begin by asking you to trust me with your emotions. Until you are able to do that, the punishment will not stop."

Heero raised his eyebrows, the only signal that he was in the least bit surprised. That was what I had expected, though. He had held the emotions inside for so long, he needed to let them loose. He needed a way to vent, or he would certainly die.

"Alright then, come on," I said, and motioned to my lap. Heero was smart and, after seeing the paddle, realized what I intended and laid himself across my lap.

I didn't start right away. He would have expected that. Instead, I took the time to resettle him across my lap so that my knee wasn't digging into his stomach, and so that he could breathe easily. I doubted that this would be a short process. Once he was settled, I ran my hands across his back, through his hair, and over his ass. I was giving myself time to prepare, while sensitizing his skin. When I was finally ready to start, I didn't surprise him with it, but gave him plenty of time to prepare himself for the blows.

The first hit landed with a resounding smack. Heero tensed his body, but otherwise remained unmoved. I followed the first smack with a volley of evenly spaced blows. I allowed Heero just enough time to take a breath after each blow, before following it with the next. I made sure not to hit the same spot over and over, which could have been damaging to his skin, but spaced my blows all over his upper thighs and butt.

There was no clock in the room, but I would have guessed it was twenty minutes later as I continued to land blows on Heero's ass. Both cheeks had turned a glowing read from the punishment I was inflicting and I was fairly certain that he would have some bruises the next day, despite my attempts to the contrary. Heero himself had begun to pant, but showed no other sign of distress. I was beginning to worry that my arm would give out before Heero did. It gave me a new respect for the boy, but even he was only human.

I didn't notice the first sobs; they were so quiet. Actually, I didn't notice anything as Heero quietly began weeping until his small voice sobbed, "Stop. Please, master, stop. No more." I don't actually think he expected me to stop, but I did instantly. I dropped the paddle on the floor next to the chair and pulled him up to sit on my lap, allowing his head to rest on my shoulder. I had to sit him so that only his thighs were on my legs, as I don't think he could have taken that much weight on his butt right then, which made me have to hold onto him with my left arm to keep him from falling, as my right arm was barely functioning.

I let him cry himself out as I stroked hi hair, patted his back, and just held him. I didn't doubt that it was the first human kindness he received in quite some time, but I wouldn't let it be the last.

"I'm very proud of you. I know that must have been difficult for you. I'm grateful that you have trusted me, and I will never break that trust. Tomorrow we will work on trust more, for now you simply need to rest. You've done enough," I told him softly, then kissed the tears from his cheeks. He stared at me and, suddenly, I could read those clear blue eyes. They spoke to me of hopelessness, of pain and betrayal, of the drowning well of despair and helplessness, and of the walls closing in, coming down on top of him. I knew, at that moment, that the boy needed something to dream of, something to believe in. I just didn't know what dream I could spark within him, or what dream had been so terribly broken as to cause such a void. Not that living the life of a pleasure slave wouldn't cause a void itself.

When the tears had stopped, I carried him to bed. He was almost asleep before I even set him down, so drained was he from the emotional overload I had forced him through. I, however, could not find sleep so easily. Instead I ghosted to the den, where I sat in silence and wondered about the young man in the next room for many hours, wondering if I could truly put him through so much. But if I didn't, hundreds more would suffer. Could I sacrifice the boy to save a hundred nameless people that, for all I knew, could have deserved and even liked their current position? I fell asleep wondering that question.