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She wasn’t looking toward the kitchen, and when a voice boomed out, Elise turned in shock. “The masters of this house are just fine!” Matthew swept into the room with flashing eyes alarming them all by the swiftness of his return.
“And who gave you permission to talk like a bunch of magpies?” Erik added as the three masters moved in tandem to the head of the fireplace. The shape, the size, and even the feel of the room altered the minute their energies rocketed through what felt like a cavernous hollow.
Jason’s eyes beamed at his fiancée, “On the floor, slave.”
With Erik and Matthew pinning their brides with the same furious power, the two women hit the floor in humbled poses without having to be ordered.
“Nothing’s changed because we left you for an hour,” Matthew said. “I’d suggest you remember that, or we’ll freshen the burn on your behinds with a bit of the crop—and reapply your clamps.”
“Your job now is to clean this house,” Erik moved on briskly. “We’ll leave it the way we found it, despite the fact that we had some assistance in disrupting its order. When you’re finished, slaves, you’ll join us in the library. Get going!” The trio of slaves scrambled to their feet, stumbling as they tried to right themselves. “And for God’s sake take off those heels, or you’ll kill yourselves!” Erik added.
***
They had been ordered to strip off their costumes and appear naked in the library, wearing their original collars. The bands seemed more snug now than the many they’d been forced to wear in the last three days. But their feel was oddly comforting.
The mood of the room was overflowing with sexual energy stronger than any they’d experienced on Marquis. Knowing this was the last chapter, outlining the last cruel rite in their training as chattel, deemed the occasion potentially dangerous, and the sense of danger fed their lust. Regardless of their expectations, however, whatever finale Barth outlined in his book would have to surpass in intensity the other ac
ts of perversion he prescribed. They were accustomed to extremes and expected nothing less.
The three sat again in straight-backed armless chairs. Their legs were ordered spread; and their hands were clasped uncomfortably behind the wood struts at their backs. There were no handcuffs, chains, or ropes to keep them bound, only their fear and the desire that billowed from their anxiously aroused bellies. All three were wet where their pussies parted, Sandra so liquid that her juices stained the fabric seat of her chair.
As before, Matthew and Jason remained on the sidelines observing the drama with detached expressions; though there was something in their eyes, another deeper level of darkness that drove home the grave nature of their purpose. And Erik, a vision of calmness and clarity, read again, as he strolled around the circle.
Chapter Seven—Body Alterations: Branding, Piercing, Tattoos and Cutting
Sandra shrieked hearing those words while the other two slaves listened to the revelation with their stomachs suddenly tensing with alarm. For a moment, it seemed as though they’d all stopped breathing, though they listened with open ears.
“A slave, having made their choice, and giving themselves to the negated life of submission becomes the property of her master, no different than any other property he might own. She is bound to him by her own decision, and, as such, will be subject to all decisions that he makes for her. There is no question in the matter; it is simply a fact of the arrangement. Chattel is property, livestock is property, nothing more or less. Thus, what happens to the slave from this point is totally dictated by the property owner, and as such, many masters including myself find a certain finality associated with leaving their mark on the chattel’s body as proof of their sovereignty over the submissive livestock. In turn, the mark becomes that last, and very important acknowledgement by the slave that they are no longer free to govern themselves but are owned and have no rights. It is a symbol of their choice, a physical reminder to the slave that is undeniable, that can’t be washed away or altered. The more permanent the alteration, the more resounding the statement.
In a community of likeminded souls, this prominent physical alteration identifies the property owner of the subject slave to other participants in sexual rites and scenes; and ensures within the group an understanding of the unalterable contract in this master/slave relationship.
There are numerous means of marking chattel. My preference goes to the more permanent mark. Piercing clearly makes a bold statement. Foreign objects such as rings, bars and other devices, juxtaposed with human flesh suggest a very deliberate violation of the body. For a master’s mark, I would recommend the more unusual or extreme pierce, as opposed to more common ones. (i.e. nipples, lips etc. Even the tongue pierce, while a very stirring submissive sign, has become more commonplace in recent years, and thus less useful for the purposes I outline here.)”
Erik stopped reading, looking quite amused at this point. “And how many years has tongue piercing been popular?” he posed rhetorically as he gazed around at the other masters. He turned the book over looking at what seemed to be an aging cover. “Either Barth did a fair psychic reading of the 1990’s years ago, or this book was written rather recently. Though he does have a point here.”
Jason stirred, chuckling under his breath, “Nothing in this place is as it seems, Erik.”
“How true.” Erik read on…
“One pierce that will likely never be commonplace is the piercing of the clitoris itself. Deeply painful when it’s executed, it will have a long-lasting impact on the slave, as well as make a daring statement to those who view it.
“Tattoos can also make staggering statements adding the drama of color and offering a wide range of creativity to the master’s mark. Though I recommend both of these physical alterations, however, I am most enamored by marks that dig deeper into the physical body. Pierces can be removed, often without a sign that they have been there; and even tattoos are now much easier to change or even remove if the subject abandons their choice. Cutting and branding, however, are the most permanent of body alterations. What deforms the flesh cannot be changed. And the terror involved in the process is enormously exhilarating.
“No technique to mark the human flesh is without its dangers. And it is the sacred responsibility of the master to be acquainted with the procedure, its hazards and its proper execution. Where experience is lacking, I recommend enlisting the assistance of those who are accomplished in the practice—thus I do not go into the details here.
“As regards the ritual surrounding the marking of a slave—ritual can be ignored in favor of a simple off-hand procedure, totally without ceremony. Certainly, such a step would properly demean the chattel. However, by the time the master has reached this point with their slave, such measures should be unnecessary. The marking can then be part of a larger ceremony—like a marriage, which bonds these souls together in a distinctive statement of relationship.
“I have effected both cutting and branding on my personal slaves. My decision in each case is totally dependent on my mood at the hour, and my current feelings about the chattel to be marked. There is satisfaction for the master in both.
Standing back from these acts, I think the greatest impact on the slave comes when a deliberate ritual accompanies the mark, so leaving an impression that will last forever in their consciousness. The mark of a slave breeds the feast, feels forever in the psyche; it becomes an undeniable wellspring for pleasure. It is a mistake to ignore this truth.
Erik turned the page reverently, “The book ends with this note…”
I now end my musings on the subject of training human flesh, and give them up to my readers, who will either excuse these ramblings as nonsense from a depraved and vacant soul, or find within my words a scheme for liberating the submerged desires of those who have a more profound purpose to pursue. Whether as lowly chattel or lofty master—I suggest that if you have an emotional/sexual response to this book, it would be worth the reader’s time to explore that response.
I am, Respectfully, Christian Barth.
Erik closed the cover of the leather bound volume and looked up at his audience of panting slaves. Obviously, Barth had no more to say—at least officially—on the subject of his amazing book.
