Getting captured sucks. It tends to involve thing like pissing yourself in terror, while terrifying Amazons hold their spears deathly still at your Adam's apple, leaving you too afraid to so much as sup.

acquiring taken prisoner sucks. It involves endless manacled marching and cruel whipstitch whenever you hit or faltering.

organism sold into slavery sucks. It involves standing naked under the hot sun, as virago mutter and caper to each former about you, while your throat dries out and a slim down bed of dust cakes you.

The starting time of being a slave wasn't so bad.

The junk of the markets was washed off. The weal that my thrashing had left were poulticed. I was anointed with fragrant rock oil and clad in mere gown. I couldn't help but be nervous though, because the men who bathed me flinched at every loud noise and kept their eyes resolutely downcast.

Starts can be deceiving.

After I was bathed, I was branded.

The other slaves led me firmly to another way. It was bleak rock and smelt of lather and pain. The only accoutrement were a fireplace and a set of stock certificate. I didn't like the look of this, but there were three of them and only one of me. I was forced to kneel in front of the stocks, then forced into them. I struggled against them, but the Ellen Price Wood was as unyielding as the slaves.

The slaves stoked the fireplace, or at least I think they did. It was behind me, and so hidden from my imagination. But I felt heat on my binding. They removed my gown as they left. I noticed that their dorsum - left bare by the loincloths that were all the wear they had on - all bore brands.

I broke out in a cold elbow grease.

The woman who had bought me entered the room. She was fierce and pit and wore no more than the slave. Like all Amazons, there was a lot of scar tissue where her forget breast had been. A halcyon torc encircled each of her biceps and both her ear were pieced with iron stud poker.

I resolved to suffer my pain manfully. Surely if she could survive her boob being removed, I could hold the branding without screaming.

It was a nice thought.

She circled me a few prison term, remaining silent. I had never heard her speak. Her slaves had haggled for my price, while she looked on impassively.

"Breaking you will be enjoyable."

Her spokesperson was deep and gravely. It set me to take care of the low grumbling of chariots on hard packed terra firma. It was the spokesperson of a woman with vehemence in her very bones.

Defiance seemed clever at the meter. I fired back the first half-baked insult that came to my head.

"Almost as much fun as breaking your hymen will no doubt be."

She didn't argue, didn't bluster, she simply smirked. That was a lot scarier than the alternative.

She turned slightly and I saw what I'd missed before. There was a brand and a cane in her left hand.

"breakage you will definitely be enjoyable."

She walked behind me. I heard a muffled pokey, what must suffer been her putting the brand in the fire. My courageousness fled.

"looking, surely there's a mistake. I'm important, you could ransom me !"

"You offer me money, but what use is that compared to pleasure ? Money can buy joy, certainly. But you ask me to swap pleasure I will give now with joy I might make in the futurity. This does not seem sound."

"For what you get for me you could buy a dozen like me !"

"Perhaps. But if you're worth so lots, they'll still want you even if I break you. And if you're lying, at least I'll have had the delight of breaking you."

"Please ! Don't do this !"

My phonation was cracking. I was terrified.

I felt her hand on my ass. She stroked it gently.

"Perhaps it isn't necessary. severalise me you want to be my slave. Make me believe you want to serve me. Then I might settle that you don't need to be branded."

I didn't have it in me. I was terrified, but I couldn't beg. Not like that. Not yet.

"No ? Then I guess you've just been wasting my time. You'll soon learn that there is a severe punishment for that."

There was no word of advice of the blow across my ass, just the sudden anthesis of hurting. It hurt more than any of the flagellation I had been given on my forced march here. It took my breath away. I couldn't help but scream.

"After each apoplexy, you will say ‘ Thank you master, that was one, another please ’, ‘ Thank you master, that was two, another please'’ and so on. If you miss one, you'll start over. I might bar once you count to ten. Or I might decide to keep back doing this until the make is fix. If you impress me, I'll be more merciful. So impress me."

I gritted my teeth in provision for the side by side black eye. It didn't come. She went back to gently stroking my ass and despite myself I couldn't assist but push into her paw. I was hurt and scared and the contact was comforting. As soon as I relaxed into her, the next blow came.

I bit back my scream and choked out :"Thank you master, that was two, another please !"

There was no comfort after this blow. Just a half dozen more puff in the span of a second, each as heavily as the first had been. I couldn't say anything. I could only struggle and scream. The infliction didn't feel like it was in my skin anymore, it felt inside of me. I would have done anything to get her to stop.

"You didn't tally one and thought you could go right to two ? outset. OVER."

And then the deal was back, comforting me and even though I knew it was a trap and a lie, I couldn't aid but let it. And so the next blow took me by surprise.

I screamed, but I managed to whisper and then croak :"Thank you master, that was one, another please !"

"Good."

She comforted me again after that blow.

The next few bit were a incubus of suffering and consolation, of mazed signaling, of my resistance breaking down and me losing faith in my own brain. After every C, I accepted her ease. After every snow, I thanked her and asked her for more, despite every impulsion telling me I had to call, to beg, to ask her to stop. I was terrified that if I made any mistakes, she would prolong my overrefinement.

After fifteen strokes, there was a pause. She stroked and rubbed my ass with both of her bridge player. I truly relaxed, feeling safe.

"What have you learned ?"

"You are my master,"I responded instantly.

She grabbed my ass, wrenching the striated flesh."You're smarter than that ! WHAT. HAVE. YOU. pick up !"

I whimpered with the pain of it.

"I'm helpless. I can't block you. I have to do what you say, even if it seems wrongly to me. If the only way I can avoid future pain is to ask you for pain now, I'll do it."

She went back to comforting me.

"Good."

She stroked and caressed my ass gently for several minutes, then moved to my light beam. I quickly became erect and began to moan. I couldn't help but feel warmheartedness for her. I couldn't force my brain to recognise that the person who was making me sense good was the same one who had been torturing me.

"If you beg me to mark you, if you convince me that you've really learned your place, then I won't need to punish you any Thomas More for now. Do you think you can do it ?"

"Yes professional !"

"Then beg."

"Please, I want you to brand me. I want everyone to experience I'm your property ! I want to know I'm your holding, that escape valve is unimaginable, that I'll do whatever you ask because I'm too scared and ruin to resist."

I frantically told her everything I thought she wanted to get a line, while telling myself that I was just lying, that it wasn't true.

I'm not sure which one of us I was lying to.

She stroked me oh so softly as I begged her to torment me and I couldn't assistance but enjoy the pleasure, couldn't help but keep wanting to be stroked.

"My serious life is as your slave ! You know what I want and what I need ! You know I'm bad and need to be punished. The Earth is scary, please let me be your slave."

She withdrew her hand."You've done well. I'm convinced. You'll bear my brand and be on display for everyone to see at my party tonight."

"Yes master, thank you master !"

I felt the heat of the stigma before she pushed it to my back, but I said nix. I held myself still. I couldn't bear to be punished more after the stigmatization. Let this be it, I thought. This I can take, but no more.

I was wrong, of course of instruction. I thought the beating had felt like fire, but this was ardor. flaming beneath my skin, fire drive deeper and deeper, pain so pure that it drove everything out of my idea, everything but the pain in the neck and my scream and the pure white sparkle of nerves pushed beyond what they could endure.

* * *

I woke up an indeterminate sum of metre later. I was lying on a slab. It wasn't the way I'd been originally bathed in, but this room too contained a bathtub. My hands and peg were manacled, held fast together with chains.

Another slave was watching. He saw me hustle and helped me to the bathroom. It was breathtakingly cold-blooded, a receive balm on the knot of torture in my rear and the network of welts on my ass.

I was again rinse and oils were applied. Then the hard worker led me back to the slab. I was compliant. I kept my eyes downcast.

He placed a blindfold over my eyes, a gag in my mouth, and stopped my ears with wax. I could not see or hear. He gently led me through the menage, steering me with his deal.

After a few minutes of walking, he pulled on my shoulder to stop me. I didn't know where we were and I had no estimation of my surroundings.

I felt him sequester something to the Sir Ernst Boris Chain on my wrists and then they were slowly pulled above my head, until the pressing in my shoulders pulled me onto my tiptoes. My legs immediately started to hurt. I was exhausted, but there was no solace to be found. I either had to place the exercising weight painfully on my shoulders ( not just awful but excruciating where it stretched the recently branded cutis on my back ), or keep my legs engaged to hold open the weight off.

naught happened for an undetermined amount of time. Then I began to be aware of air electric current that suggested people were walking past me. I scowled in pity. I was naked, exposed, and anyone could see the grounds of my penalty and stigmatization. This is what my headmaster had meant by being on display.

Time passed and I drifted in a psychogenic fugue state. I had two option for pain and I switched between them whenever one became overwhelming. The lack of international cues made it unacceptable to know how yearn I had been hanging here. It could suffer been a day, or it could throw been a quarter hour.

I soon wished the tedium had remained. People began to touch on me. Some ran their fingers around my brand, prompting me to yell into my gag. Others punched me, driving the confidential information out of me and wrenching my berm. I wanted to cry out, to shout, to beg, but my gag muffled it all. I felt rip well out of my oculus, but they were absorbed the cloth that covered my eyes.

The pain was bad, but the teasing was unbearable. People constantly touched my putz, until it was painfully upright, until I desperately pushed into every manus that touched it, needing passing so badly that I didn't feel shame, only an animalistic need.

I felt lips enclose it and I frantically pumped my hips. But just before my press release I was punched in the kidneys. I fell forward and screamed into my gag as the muscles in my shoulders protested and my brand was stretched. Whoever had me in their mouth gave me a voiceless bite, adding to the pain before spitting me out. I cried out and raged, but the simply visible expo of this was my quiet shaking.

I imagined a crowd of Amazons surrounding me, jeering at me, laughing at my helplessness.

* * *

Forever passed like that, with the frequence of my assault slowing down as the night wore on. Each act gave me some gumption of clock time, but I they too all blended together, leaving me just as confused as before.

But after an infinity, my arms were released and I was led to another chamber. Here I was forced onto my front, and chained spread-eagled. My blindfold and gag were removed, as was the wax. I was left like this for a few minute of arc. I took the chance to breath freely and frantically grind into the board, in the hopes of getting release.

I was stopped by the sound of footsteps outside and I lay still, in fear and shame. I did not desire anyone to see me reduced to such an animalistic state.

"I hope you enjoyed my party."

It was the voice of my master and a hundred emotions leaped into my header, but she stroked my hair and they all faded away behind comforter. She was my original. She knew best. She'd caution for me.

"You did well today, so I'd like to give you a reward."She pulled on my hair and I found myself looking right into the folds of her sex.

"Lick !"She commanded, so I did. I extended my tongue and lapped at her wet slit.

She held my hair tightly and jerked my head around at her whim. I kept my neck light and acceded, letting her be in restraint, revelling in the feeling of being utilitarian and the lack of dominance, want of pain.

I licked until my tongue got jade, but I didn't dare hitch. Soon her legs were twitching and her breathing came in rapid gasp."honorable slave, yes, just slave."

I glowed at the praise and redoubled my elbow grease. Her moans became louder, her apparent motion more violent.

I felt a shiver head through her and she jerked my head away. She swore for a few s and I tensed, thinking I had made a error and would be punished. But when she jerked my head painfully up so that I was looking at her, she was smiling.

"You're particularly good at that. Do you hold practice ?"

I cast my eyes down, scared of answering faulty. I wanted her to go back to stroking my oral sex. I didn't want to get together her terrifyingly intense eyes.

"No master."

"wellspring you'll be getting wads of it now. I'm very pleased slave. I suppose you deserve another reward."

She left the room for a minute and then came back. She sat next to me on the slab and continued to stroke my tomentum. I reacted like a dog, to the extent that my concatenation let me.

"You're happy to be my slave, aren't you ?"

"Yes professional ! I just want to make you pleased."

The words didn't feel like a lie anymore.

She kept stroking my haircloth. I heard another striver enter, mumble some affair and then leave.

sea captain shifted her position so that she was by my hips and pulled me up onto my side a bit. It hurt my shoulders, but I didn't complain.

With one hand, covered in something oily, she began to stroke my shaft. The other hand stroked my ass for a few moments. I began to groan from her efforts.

"Do you enjoy this, knuckle down ?"

"Yes master !"

I'd been teased all day. I was heroic to fare. I held myself in rigid control though. I knew bucking into her hand would be the wrong matter to do.

Her other hired man returned to my ass, just as greasy as her first. It slowly sought out my ass hollow. I felt a press at it, as she began to insert a finger. I wanted to quail, but I held myself still. I couldn't let her stop.

"I want to use you until you come. Would you like that ?"

"Yes passkey !"

Gods help me, but it wasn't a lie anymore at all.

Her finger explored the inside of me, while her former hired hand stroked my shaft.

"I want you to beg me to make you come."

"Please sea captain, make me do ! I want you to be the only one who makes me come up ! I want you to operate my body. Please draw me come in overlord !"

She did something with the hand inside me and suddenly all I could experience was pleasure. I moaned and moaned and moaned.

"You have my permission to come."

I'm sword lily she gave me license, because there was no stopping me. She kept doing that affair inside of me and kept stroking my putz and I was coming, Gods help me I was having an orgasm so stiff it was driving every thought out of my brain ; it was the same pure lucidness as branding.

As I recovered, she continued to stroke me gently. Soon she was cradling my promontory in her and making me secern her that I was hers. I came to believe it, then. She owned me, body and judgment and I would never let that variety .