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YOU KNOW HE'S SUB, DON'T YOU? - PART 51
He did that for some time, stroking a single finger up and down my spine, exciting me so much. Sometimes his hand stayed on my backside for a bit and just sort of cupped it, like it was warm, or cold and he was heating it. My hands were by my sides and I wanted to touch him. He was just looking at me, like I interested him, then he stretched and told me to put my arms around him so we could hug - and our pricks pressed together like they were trying to get at each other. We had been kissing for quite some time when he just stopped touching me eased me away from him with a sigh. "Go get me a glass of water," he said.
I did as he told me, and when I handed it to him he drank most of it and told me to finish it. "It's important to stay hydrated," he said.
I finished the glass and put it on the table. Then, cause I didn't know what to do, I knelt down. Po leant on the table edge, half standing, with his hand on his bulge, looking at me, like he was thinking about what he could do.
I didn't know what to do, so I just said, "I like your brother."
"Yeah?" Po smiled. "Yeah. He's hot!" I said. "The way he touched me it was as though he really wanted to fuck me!" "He didn't," said Po. He took my hand like he was about to shake it, but didn't, he just held it, like to keep my attention. "Jobal's like that. He's extremely magnetic sexually. He can get it out of anything. He's like a magician. You aren't the only one." "I'm not?" "No. He's like that. He makes everyone think he's going to fuck them and want it. But he wouldn't be nice to you. Trust me. He's a bastard and just uses people."
'He could use me,' I thought.
"I know what you're thinking," said Po, "but don't think it. Jobal is a genuine cunt and all this bro stuff is just a front. He'd knife you without a thought. Trust me. He'd use you and you might like that except he won't care. He'll use you for his stuff, what he wants, not for you and not even for sex. He'll manipulate you. He'll get you to do things you'll regret." "Like what?" "Stuff. Trust me. Don't get involved." "But aren't I involved now?" "Look, I'm trying to keepmyou out of it. You've got a ways to go. He's oked you. I needed that. But you still need a whole load, yeah? Next we'll get your brand and then we'll be home free." "My brand?" I said.
"Yeah, we've got to get you marked up. You heard him. I know he sounded casual about it but that was just his way of saying, like, it's a condition isn't it." "A condition of what?" "Approval. Acceptance. Otherwise he can't protect us yeah?"
I blinked.
"Do you understand?" "I ..." "Do you understand or not?" "I ... No. I don't understand. Am I going to be branded, like an animal, like actually branded with an actual brand?" I said incredulously. "Yeah. Something like that," he laughed "That's the condition."
My blood ran cold. "Must hurt a fuxknof a lot. What, like burnt? Burnt with a hot wire or something?" Po looked at me and smiled. "Something like that."
I couldn't believe it. "Something like that?"
"He-ey babes ... not exactly. More like a scar. Like a deep scar or something. I'm not sure. Like a sort of permanent scar, yeah? Sort of. You're not going to be difficult about it are you? Hey? Hey, you wanted this remember." "No I didn't!"
"Yes you did. You said it it. You said Obey, yeah? You said Obey. Well this is what Obey looks like yeah? And anyway ..." "Anyway what?"
"Anyway I'll prepare you." "Prepare me? How will you prepare me?"
Po softened slightly, gripping my hand in a sweaty fist, "Hey babes, I'm not going to just do it, am I? I'm going to do some work preparation, aren't I? or it'll be too much won't it? I'll get you used to it, gradually."
"How the fuck will you get me used to it? I'm sorry," I said, remembering his threat, "But, Po ... That is fucking bullshit!" I said, "I'm not a moron. I'm not going to just say, Oh yeah do this painful thing to me and I'll accept it and just want more! Fuck!"
Which was a bit too far cause then Po changed.
"You thought I was joking. But I wasn't fucking joking," he said, slapping me about the head.
"Hey!" He slapped my face. "Enough of that. Remember! It's like I said: Work. Training. I'll raise your pain threshold - that's how it's done. I'll train you to take more, raise your pain level until you can bear more and then raise it and raise it, and I'll make you grateful, I'll make you beg for it, yeah? And you'll wake in the night wanting it. You'll be somewhere and feel the need and want me to hurt you. You'll wake up asking me for pain. Even longing for it, looking forward to it, craving it yeah? It won't even hurt that much. So there's this training, until it's there, about to happen, and you'll be looking at it and wanting me to do it. Yeah? Begging me. It's quite a simple process. So each day," he changed his grip on my hand, "everyday, we'll be working out and increasing your strength, and making you more and more proud of your body, more proud of your threshold for pain, proud, able to take it, proud to take more, and more and more horney. You won't believe how horney. You'll be living and dreaming pain. I've seen it! And I'll be punishing you, hurting you in ways so bit by bit ... you'll get used to it won't you? You'll be able to take more, and by the time it's time you'll be actually be begging me for it. You'll be actually saying - I want this, please! Po, I want it, I want this, I want you to scar me, pleeese Po! Pleeese mark me, permanently, pleeeze Po I'm begging you, pleeeeze Po, mark me up, make it hurt, pleeeeeze Po mark it, mark it up!" He laughed at his mocking impersonation of me begging him like I was moaning during sex. "Yeah? TRUST me, YOU WILL!"
He laughed, but he was serious and I was so turned on!
"Here, stand up." And I still wasn't dressed, so my prick was standing out like a flag and he could see it like, 'Hello! Hello! I'm turned on! Had you noticed?' Yeah?
"Pleeze Po, pleeze Po, pleeze, mark me up!" he joked, tapping my dick. I pulled away but he grabbed me.
We both laughed. He grabbed my neck and mock-chocked me. "So you got any more of your stupid questions or can we get on?" He let go and looked at me, his hand resting on my shoulder.
I thought about it a second, "So where will it be? On my arm?"
Po exhaled. "Fuck babes, that depends. I'll have to ask. I know babes have it on the behind." "They mark them as well?" "You heard what he said about Mila! So yeah, some of the times." "I didn't know that's what he meant." "You didn't didn't you?" "No! I didn't. Fuck. That's Terrible."
"I know. It's not me. It's them. Yeah?" "Po you're one of these people."
"Aw stop whining, you stupid fuck! You're not a girl. You can take it. It'll look cool. You'll love it. It's sexy to be owned and marked up with your scar so everyone can see. 'Property of Po'. Trust me."
"How would you know?"
"How would I know? What do you think I don't see it? I've fucked these fellas with marks and ownership." "How come? If they're owned by someone else?"
"Sometimes their owners want them exercised out. Sometimes they owe me one or something. Look I told you, you're not the first fag I've destroyed!"
"And where were they marked?"
"On the buttocks but also the arm, upper arm, here," he indicated the muscle at the top of my arm where that bloke Derek had looked (if you remember) "yeah, different places. Or the chest. Once it had to be on the back of the neck, but that's been relaxed. Several I saw on the shoulders. Leg. Could be anywhere." "Oh. Right," I said, "That helps!"
"Babes it's not meant to be like a secret. It's an identification yeah? So it's got to go where so ... I just want it to be visible at all times. I want people to know it when they see it, you know? That you are one of ours and no messing."
"So where is that then, for fucks sake, if it's gotta be visible?"
"Forearm? Or up here," he pointed to my shoulder again, "What do you want? What do you think? Don't you want to though? Don't you want people to know you've been marked up and you belong to Jobal's brother? I'd'a thought you would. I'd'a thought you'd be proud of that!" "I am Po! I am proud of belonging to you. I like to belong to you!"
My dick was sticking out. I felt like I was pretending to be afraid, but I wasn't. And I was thinking, 'I just wish my fucking wood would go down; it's like everything I say my dick says the opposite.
"What's wrong then? Why are you being a cunt about it?" said Po.
"Look I just don't think I need a fucking bitch stamp, like a fucking ... total ... fucking ... sex ... fucking ... fag-bitch!" I said. "I already know what I am!"
I'd snapped I guess, huh.
And he slapped me hard on the face, "Hey, Enough of that!" And then he slapped me some more just for luck, just to make it clear I'd gone over the edge. Until I was crying and trying to dodge it. "Cause. You. Are. A. Fucking. Bitch. Slut. Cum. Dump. You. Fucking. Cunt!" said Po, and he spat on my face.
"You're just like Dean!" I said, wondering where Dean was.
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END OF YOU KNOW HE'S SUB, DON'T YOU? - PART 51