Marked by Mark -- Part Five bamaboi2serve@charter.net
[Thank you for your emails. i am now under the command of an online Master who pre-approves each section before it is sent in to Nifty. i am sure his changes will make it a better story. Another Master, Master Andi, found an error in Part Six in which i wrote: "Good work slut," Mater told me." Master Andi demanded that i apologize, and my Master gave his approval.
i am sorry Masters, especially because it was your title that i fucked up. i am a worthless slave. And now Part Five.]
Master had cleared off the large coffee table I had next to the couch, and he directed me to lay face down. Soon my own leather restraints were secured to my arms and legs, and Master used rope to attach me tightly to the table. My head hung over the edge of the table.
I was still gagged, but fortunately I had managed to swallow most of the public hair which Master had stuffed in my mouth after shaving my crotch and pits. Still, I could feed a stray hair in between my teeth here and there.
Sir had pulled over a floor lamp/spotlight and aimed it at my back,
Master sat in a chair at my head and talked to me: "Everything I've done to you so far is revocable. But tonight I'm going to put my mark on you, and that's not something like cutting hair that will grow back. I want to give you a chance to back out, to say you don't want this. Of course if you decide to end my power over you, I'll go look for another slave boi who's more open to following his Master's orders. But its up to you. All you have to do is nod yes, telling me you want to be let go, I'll untie you, and Sir and I will leave you alone. I'll just go back to being your neighbor...I'll wave at you every now and then..and then some night not too long from now you'll see me taking some handcuffed and blindfolded hot young bitch-boi out of the trunk of my car. You'll know what he's in for, and you'll wish you had just said yes to being marked. But that's OK! Just nod your head in a yes and all this will come to a quick end. Do you want to stop now?" he asked me.
My head told me to nod, to end this, to go back to being the play-with-myself little slut dreaming about finding a Master to control me, to mold me into the slave he wanted. But my heart and my inner slave-self wouldn't let me move my head. I knew what I wanted. I knew what I needed. Hell, I had fantasized for years about just this scenario! Wasn't the fact that I had an almost permanent hard on proof?
I kept my head still, and Master grabbed the black punishment paddle and slapped my ass hard, twice on each cheek. "That's the boi! I knew you would work out!" he told me, smiling at me.
Sir used a blade razor to shave the area of my lower back, telling me that even very fine hair would ruin his design. He was working in the center of my back right above my crack.
Master suggested he finish shaving my crack while he was at it, and Sir gladly smeared cream all over. He took an old fashioned straight razor from his bag of tools and, pulling my cheeks this way and that, stripped me of the last of my pubic hair. I could feel the cool air where he had made my skin bare, and felt like a little boy.
Sire cleaned the area above the crack with alcohol. Some of it trickled down into the freshly shaved crack and stung. I felt him making some measurements with a ruler, drawing some lines, and the inking process began.
There had been no discussion with Master about just how I would be marked. I had given him full consent to do with my body as he pleased, as, it seemed, I had given him control of my life!
The process was painful but I think my endorphins and general horniness from being bound and under Master and Sir's command reduced the depth of that pain. A one point Master came over and knelt down, putting his crotch level with my head. He replaced the little leather penis gag with his own much more substantial cock, slowly pumping in and out till he was fully engorged. Master help my head up with one hand by grabbing my hair. He was being gentle in his mouth-fucking, not wanting to upset Sir's tattoo work a few feet away. The position of my head made it difficult for Master to get the cock to go as deep as it usually did, but I could feel and see it slide in and out, my saliva coating it thoroughly each time. After a half-hour my throat was sore and Master was ready.
"Fuck yea boi...good bitch! Take this deep now you worthless slut..ahhh!"...and he shot, coating the top of my mouth with his cum, which then dripped down to my tongue, filled me with him. He pulled out, using his wet tool to slap my face a few times. I used my tongue as best I could to clean him off as he slapped me.
I thought I would be able to tell what letters Sir was writing, but I was, uh, distracted by the mouth-fuck, so after a while I got confused and gave up. Two hours later he was apparently finished. He put on an antibiotic ointment and taped a large bandage on my lower back, telling me not to take I off till he came back to check on it. He gave me written instructions about how to care for my new decoration in the time before he returned, Master made it clear I was not to remove the bandage without one of them being present.
Sir took over Master's kneeling position at my face and duplicated the face-pounding that Master had finished moments ago.
Sir didn't have to worry about interrupting the now completed inking process, so he was much harsher in his treatment, pulling my head up by the ears and using that better angle to go deep and rough into my already lubricated mouth. I could just barely see Master watching from the side, encouraging Sir's plunging. A moment later Sir shot, and his juice went deep into me. I could actually feel it dripping towards my stomach.
Sir and Master left me alone for a while, headed into the kitchen to drink some of my beer. From all the action it had seen, my throat was dry and I hoped they might bring me a can. No such luck, though both Master and Sir did empty their old beer into me, and frankly it was as good to me, maybe better, than a cold can of brew.
It would be almost three weeks before I would actually see the tattoo in a mirror...it took that long to heal and for Sir to say it was OK to leave the bandage off. Master had paid Sir to draw a seven inch long, thick, black-ink outline of an arrow pointing down right to where my ass crack began. Inside the arrow in bright red ink were the easily-read letters that spelled these words: SLAVE HOLE.
But back in the present, Master untied me from the coffee table. Before he and Sir left, there were new rules added to my ever expanding list.
"You have the sissiest collection of underwear I've ever seen bitch, real girlie stuff." he told me as I blushed, thinking about him going thorough my dresser, inspecting my underwear and things. Did he also see what I kept in the bottom drawer, I wondered?
"Get rid of all of those sissy underpants. If I want you to look like a little sissy boy or a girl I'll let you know. I want that shit out in the trash by the morning. Go buy some plain white briefs, plain white! No color at all...no little fire-trucks or fancy designs. Got it? Get BVDs or something like them."
"Yes, Master." I replied, still blushing.
"Do you know why I demand white only, bitch?"
"No, Master," I answered truthfully.
"Because it will show off your piss when you wet your pants bitch, and you will!. And because it is plain, like a common whore slave should be," he said.
"That's Rule Number Five. Rule Number Six is this..." and he laid a large metal butt plug on the table. It was one of the many toys I had in that bottom drawer. "Put this in every morning before you go to work. Wear it all day. When you get home you can call me for permission to remove it. Here's my number." He handed my a slip of paper with a cell phone number on it.
"Don't use this number for anything else bitch! You call in the afternoon and say what?"
"Master, may I take the plug out of my ass," I suggested.
"No boi, you say 'Master, may I take the man-plug out of my sissy bitch whore ass please?' Got it?"
"Yes Master," I answered, amazed at how turned on I could be by mere words.
"I'm going to give you a treat too, bitch, Tomorrow morning you may shower before you go back to work. Do a good job washing my slave body now, cause I'm not sure how long it will be before I let you have another."
"Yes Master," I answered, looking down at my feet as usual.
When they had left, I added the new rules to my list. I couldn't think of any orders I had disobeyed, so I didn't add anything to the punishment log.
I had spent virtually the entire holiday weekend serving Master (and Sir), so now I needed to do some cleaning. It took an hour or two, and when I had finished I was sweating and felt even more dirty. And, of course, I was hard! Master had said I would be allowed to shower, but only in the morning. So about Midnight I climbed into bed nasty. I set the alarm for the usual 5:30 and slept. Going to work tomorrow morning would be an entirely new experience, I thought, as I glanced at the plug on my nightstand. How in the world was I going to spend all day at work with that in me and, no doubt, a constant erection? I guessed I would find out tomorrow.
[I hope you are continuing to enjoy the story! Coming up in Part Six: boi returns to work and runs into some complications.]