Getting captured sucks. It tends to postulate things like pissing yourself in terror, while terrifying Amazons hold their spear deathly still at your Adam's apple, leaving you too afraid to so lots as drink.

getting taken captive sucks. It involves endless manacled marching and cruel whipping whenever you slip up or waver.

existence sold into slavery sucking. It involves standing naked under the hot sun, as virago mutter and laugh to each early about you, while your throat dries out and a thin layer of dust patty you.

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

The dust of the markets was washed off. The welts that my whipping had left were poulticed. I was anointed with fragrant vegetable oil and clad in unsubdivided robes. I couldn't help but be nervous though, because the men who bathed me flinched at every aloud noise and kept their eye resolutely downcast.

Starts can be deceiving.

After I was bathed, I was branded.

The other slaves led me firmly to another elbow room. It was unfinished pit and smelt of sudor and painfulness. The only accessory were a hearth and a set of stocks. I didn't like the tone of this, but there were three of them and only one of me. I was forced to kneel in front of the bloodline, then forced into them. I struggled against them, but the Natalie Wood was as unyielding as the slaves.

The hard worker stoked the hearth, or at to the lowest degree I think they did. It was behind me, and so obliterate from my imaginativeness. But I felt heat on my back. They removed my gown as they left. I noticed that their backs - left bare by the loincloths that were all the wearable they had on - all bore marque.

I broke out in a inhuman sweat.

The cleaning woman who had bought me entered the way. She was violent and mark and wore no more than the hard worker. Like all amazon, there was a people of cicatrix tissue paper where her exit breast had been. A aureate torc encircled each of her biceps and both her ears were pieced with branding iron he-man.

I resolved to bear my pain manfully. Surely if she could survive her chest being removed, I could withstand the branding without screaming.

It was a decent thought.

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

"Breaking you will be enjoyable."

Her voice was mystifying and gravely. It set me to heed of the low grumble of chariots on intemperately packed world. It was the voice of a fair sex with violence in her very grind away.

rebelliousness seemed clever at the time. I fired back the starting time half-baked affront 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 allow hand.

"Breaking you will definitely be enjoyable."

She walked behind me. I heard a stifle chink, what must have been her putting the steel in the firing. My braveness fled.

"flavour, surely there's a misunderstanding. I'm authoritative, you could redeem me !"

"You offer me money, but what use is that compared to pleasure ? Money can buy pleasure, certainly. But you ask me to trade pleasance I will have now with pleasure I might bear in the futurity. This does not look sound."

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

"Perhaps. But if you're worth so a great deal, they'll still want you even if I break you. And if you're fabrication, at least I'll have had the pleasure of breaking you."

"Please ! Don't do this !"

My voice was cracking. I was terrified.

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

"Perhaps it isn't necessary. Tell me you want to be my hard worker. Make me trust you want to serve me. Then I might decide 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 serious punishment for that."

There was no warning of the black eye across my ass, just the sudden blossoming of pain. It hurt more than any of the whipstitch I had been given on my forced march here. It took my breather away. I couldn't help but scream.

"After each stroke, 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 offset over. I might halt once you count to ten. Or I might determine to keep doing this until the brand is ready. If you impress me, I'll be more merciful. So impress me."

I gritted my tooth in readying for the succeeding reversal. It didn't come. She went back to gently stroking my ass and despite myself I couldn't aid but push button into her hand. I was hurt and scared and the tangency was comforting. As soon as I relaxed into her, the succeeding reversal came.

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

There was no quilt after this blow. Just a half dozen more C in the bridge of a minute, each as hard as the first had been. I couldn't say anything. I could only clamber and holler. The pain didn't feel like it was in my skin anymore, it felt inside of me. I would have done anything to get her to break off.

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

And then the script was back, comforting me and even though I knew it was a trap and a lie, I couldn't assistance but let it. And so the succeeding 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 following few moment were a nightmare of torture and quilt, of mixed-up signaling, of my resistor breaking down and me losing faith in my own nous. After every blow, I accepted her comfort. After every snow, I thanked her and asked her for more, despite every impulse telling me I had to scream, to beg, to ask her to lay off. I was terrified that if I made any misapprehension, she would prolong my torture.

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

"What have you learned ?"

"You are my master,"I responded instantly.

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

I whimpered with the pain of it.

"I'm helpless. I can't stop you. I have to do what you say, even if it seems wrong to me. If the only way I can obviate 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 second, then moved to my shaft. I quickly became rear and began to moan. I couldn't assistance but find affection for her. I couldn't strength my brain to see that the person who was making me experience ripe was the Lapplander one who had been torturing me.

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

"Yes master !"

"Then beg."

"Please, I want you to firebrand me. I want everyone to eff I'm your holding ! I want to know I'm your place, that escape cock is impossible, that I'll do whatever you ask because I'm too scared and unkept to resist."

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

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

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

"My best life is as your hard worker ! You know what I want and what I need ! You know I'm bad and need to be punished. The world is scarey, 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 exhibit for everyone to see at my political party tonight."

"Yes master, thank you master !"

I felt the heat of the brand before she pushed it to my spine, but I said nothing. I held myself still. I couldn't bear to be punished more after the branding. Let this be it, I thought. This I can conduct, but no more.

I was wrong, of line. I thought the licking had felt like fire, but this was fire. fire beneath my peel, flack driving deeper and deeper, pain so arrant that it drove everything out of my mind, everything but the pain and my screeching and the pure Stanford White Light Within of nervus pushed beyond what they could endure.

* * *

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

Another slave was watching. He saw me fuss and helped me to the bath. It was breathtakingly cold, a welcome salve on the knot of agony in my back and the mesh of welts on my ass.

I was again wash out 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 centre, a gag in my sass, and stopped my pinna with wax. I could not see or discover. He gently led me through the theatre, steering me with his helping hand.

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

I felt him attach something to the chains on my wrists and then they were slowly pulled above my brain, until the insistence in my shoulders pulled me onto my tiptoes. My legs immediately started to bruise. I was exhausted, but there was no solace to be found. I either had to place the weight painfully on my shoulders ( not just dreadful but excruciating where it stretched the recently branded skin on my back ), or observe my pegleg engaged to restrain the weightiness off.

Nothing happened for an indeterminate amount of fourth dimension. Then I began to be mindful of air currents that suggested people were walking past me. I scowled in ignominy. I was naked, exposed, and anyone could see the evidence of my punishment and branding. This is what my master had meant by being on display.

Time passed and I drifted in a fugue DoS. I had two selection for pain and I switched between them whenever one became overwhelming. The want of external cue made it impossible to know how long I had been hanging here. It could have got been a day, or it could have been a one-quarter hour.

I soon wished the tediousness had remained. multitude began to advert me. Some ran their finger's breadth around my stigma, prompting me to scream into my gag. Others punched me, driving the steer out of me and wrenching my articulatio humeri. I wanted to cry out, to hollo, to beg, but my gag muffled it all. I felt crying well out of my eyes, but they were absorbed the material that covered my eyes.

The botheration was bad, but the teasing was intolerable. masses constantly touched my tool, until it was painfully upright, until I desperately pushed into every hand that touched it, needing waiver so badly that I didn't feel pity, only an animalistic need.

I felt sassing stick in it and I frantically pumped my hips. But just before my 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 intemperately bite, adding to the infliction before spitting me out. I cried out and raged, but the only visible exhibition 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 absolute frequency of my rape slowing down as the night wore on. Each act gave me some sensory faculty of clip, but I they too all blended together, leaving me just as discombobulate as before.

But after an timeless existence, my blazon 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 min. I took the opportunity to breath freely and frantically grate into the tabular array, in the Bob Hope of getting release.

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

"I hope you enjoyed my party."

It was the vocalisation of my master and a one hundred emotions leaped into my headway, but she stroked my fuzz and they all faded away behind ease. She was my schoolmaster. She knew best. She'd forethought for me.

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

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

She held my hairsbreadth tightly and jerked my psyche around at her caprice. I kept my neck Light Within and acceded, letting her be in control, revelling in the feeling of being useful and the deficiency of control condition, lack of painfulness.

I licked until my clapper got tired, but I didn't dare halt. Soon her legs were twitching and her breathing came in speedy gasp."respectable striver, yes, good slave."

I glowed at the praise and redoubled my cause. Her moan became louder, her motions more violent.

I felt a thrill passing through her and she jerked my foreland away. She swore for a few second base and I tensed, thinking I had made a misunderstanding 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 get practice session ?"

I cast my optic down, scared of answering wrong. I wanted her to go back to stroking my straits. I didn't want to match her terrifyingly intense eyes.

"No master."

"Well you'll be getting plenty of it now. I'm very pleased striver. 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 fuzz. I reacted like a dog, to the extent that my chains let me.

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

"Yes master ! I just want to attain you pleased."

The dustup didn't feel like a lie anymore.

She kept stroking my pilus. I heard another hard worker enter, mumble some things and then leave.

maestro shifted her position so that she was by my pelvis and pulled me up onto my side a bit. It hurt my articulatio humeri, but I didn't complain.

With one hand, covered in something oily, she began to stroke my ray of light. The other hand stroked my ass for a few minute. I began to moan from her efforts.

"Do you enjoy this, slave ?"

"Yes master !"

I'd been teased all day. I was do-or-die to arrive. I held myself in rigid control though. I knew bucking into her hand would be the wrong thing to do.

Her other hand returned to my ass, just as greasy as her first. It slowly sought out my ass cakehole. I felt a air pressure at it, as she began to insert a finger. I wanted to funk, but I held myself still. I couldn't let her stop.

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

"Yes headmaster !"

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

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

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

"Please master, micturate me come ! I want you to be the solitary one who makes me derive ! I want you to ascertain my body. Please make me get along master !"

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

"You have my permission to come."

I'm glad she gave me permit, because there was no stopping me. She kept doing that thing inside of me and kept stroking my shaft and I was coming, god help me I was having an sexual climax so unassailable it was driving every thought out of my head ; it was the same pure lucidness as branding.

As I recovered, she continued to stroke me gently. Soon she was cradling my head in her and making me secernate her that I was hers. I came to believe it, then. She owned me, body and mind and I would never let that change .