Chris falls asleep with an arm around Marlo. He sleeps soundly that night.

He falls asleep with Chris's arm around him, and sleeps more soundly than he has in years, and doesn't remember what he'd dreamed of. 

The next few days continue mostly as they did before. Now, when Marlo does something well-- which he does more often, these days-- Chris hugs him, or kisses his forehead, or perhaps touches him on the shoulder, in addition to the usual praise. 

In the evenings, Marlo is ordered to take off his pants and then spanked over Chris's knee. The spankings are harder than the first one, more like the way Chris hit him on his back. The strap is occasionally used. Afterwards, Chris touches his back and ass for a while, then gives him permission to masturbate; after Marlo masturbates, Chris holds him briefly, for ten or fifteen minutes, and gives him some specific praise. 

Sometimes his thoughts go in directions he would prefer they didn't, when Chris touches him. It isn't about that — it isn't, it can't be, Chris's touch is bright and pure and clean, it can't be about that — those thoughts are obnoxious but not a real problem. He has other things to think about. 

He still feels — unclean — when he finishes; it feels like a layer of grime settled into his skin, deep enough that no amount of washing can get it out. But the pain before is purifying and afterwards, when Chris holds him and tells him what he'd done well, that feels like purifying too. 

He learns. He studies. He improves. He messes up less; he gets things right the first try more.

Anyone who knew him before and saw him now would say he was shining. 

One morning, Chris says, "you will learn how to give a massage. Good massages are a skill in high demand."

He's not really sure why Chris feels the need to justify this but he's perfectly happy to not ask. "Yes, Chris." 

One of the side rooms has been outfitted with a massage table.

Chris pulls off his shirt in a businesslike fashion. His torso is the slim V of a swimmer; his pecs and abs are well-formed. A tattoo of a phoenix starts at his nipples and continues down under the waistband of his pants, its eyes in the center of his chest, its claws pointing directly between his legs. Red flames lick both sides of his stomach, encasing blue and red wings.

He takes off his pants. Underneath he's wearing a jockstrap that covers his genitals but otherwise leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. The phoenix, it appears, is rising from gray ashes.

The tattoo design is gorgeous. He keeps his eyes where they belong. 

He's roughly ninety percent sure he doesn't also need to take his own clothes off. He definitely doesn't know about this task to be able to anticipate what Chris will want him to do first; he waits for orders. 

Chris lies on the massage bed. The jockstrap reveals his entire ass to Marlo's view. His upper arm has three V-shaped marks on it. 

"You should begin by checking the client's back for cuts or abrasions that might make the massage unpleasant," Chris says, "and asking if they need any adjustments, such as a towel under their knees, to make them feel more comfortable. You will find massage oil in the upper right drawer of the table. Begin with an effleurage movement, to distribute the oil, warm up the skin, and allow the client to get used to your touch. Begin at the neck and run your hands all the way down my spine and back up."  

He gets the oil from the drawer. "Do you need any adjustments, Chris?" 

"I do not."

He spreads the oil over his hands — he's not really sure how much to use but decides it's better to have more than he needs than not enough — and does as he was told, moving his palms in small circles down Chris's back to the base of his spine and back up to his neck. 

"Marlo, have you ever made a study of human anatomy?"

"I haven't, Chris." 

"Perhaps if you were less ignorant you would know that the human spine is typically considered to extend to the tailbone, which is well below the hip."

"Yes, Chris." 

He does the motion again, goes down to Chris's tailbone this time. Does his best to ignore all of the… everything. 

"Good. Try it again with more pressure."

He does. He pushes aside a really excessive number of thoughts; he'll deal with that next time he has a chance. 

Chris continues to give him instructions. 

It turns out that massage involves an awful lot of... everything. 

It certainly does. 

When Marlo notices his thoughts going somewhere they shouldn't, he quietly redirects power away from that part of his brain. 

Half an hour later, Chris says, "Not bad at all for your first time. We'll practice this three times a week."

"Yes, Chris," he says. 

Over the course of the next week and a half, Marlo spends six or seven hours massaging every inch of Chris's naked body except for the parts covered by his jockstrap. 

Chris is, of course, also teaching Marlo massage skills. When you only have two months to perfect someone, it's important to make things serve more than one purpose.

He gets very very good at shutting down thoughts before they begin. 

He also gets very good at giving massages. Birds and stones and what all. 

Marlo shutting down his thoughts is, in fact, the opposite of the goal here.