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The making of a wench Pt.II Master took the girl directly out to the workshop. He set her limp form against the sloped branding rack. He fastens the hasp around her waist and then releases the cloth bindings on her wrists and ankles. He turns up the lantern to shed a better light on the task at hand. Cutting the house robes with a knife, he reveals the girls form. Things arent as they seem to be. His eyes glide over her body noticing only a couple of blemishes and then .she has a cock! But someone has already relieved him of his nuts. Something Master hasnt planned on. This confuses him. If he intends on being a woman then I shall make him one. Master thinks in his mind. He turns and adds coals to the forge and pumps the bellows a few times, awakening the fierce heat of the forge. Masters attention returns to the hijra on his rack as he fastens her wrists, neck, ankles and thighs to the rack. Her flesh is silky and soft, she is from a well to do family, and she has not had to labor in the past. It is most unusual to have a hijra that isnt slave. The light hair on his pubes, feathery soft and thin. This boy is younger than his robes of concealment would have led one to believe. The impetuousness of youth will be rewarded with a heavy price tonight. His face has soft features and a peaches and cream complexion, marred only by the discoloration around the knot on his forehead. His chest is chiseled and well tanned, his waist thin and his butt well rounded and bubbled . He will fetch a high price at the slave auction. Master traces carefully from her hip down her left thigh to her knee. He pauses, scratching his chin through his beard. Master moves over to the cabinet and swings open both the doors. Inside are rows of black iron rods branding rods. Master looks back over his shoulders at the boys smooth tanned thigh, smiles and nods and reaches into the cabinet and draws out a set of three irons. He plunges the cold irons into the glowing red hot coals in the forge . Masters boy shakes his head as he walks across the lawn. The light from the shop glowing yellow as it spills out of the door. He knows well that the woman should never have challenged Master the way she did. This will be a hard night for the girl. The boy kneels at the door of the workshop and lowers his head to the floor, his arms stretched out before him and he says May this boy enter and be of service to Master? Master smiles at his pet and tells him to enter. He tells his slave, Get the ointment, tonight will be a heavy branding and the ointment will be much needed. Yes Master. He says as he rises to his feet. He sets the hairpins and rose on the workbench in front of the branding rack and then retrieves the jar of ointment from the shelf. Looking, he notices the girl is not female at all. A boy! He blurts out, without thinking. Master looks back over his shoulder grinning. Master arranges the irons in the order he will use them, the designs on each rod now white hot. As the hijra on the rack comes back to life, he lifts his head; Master takes up the first iron and holds it so he can see and know what is happening to him and that Masters hand is the one doing it. Before he can object, Master presses the hot iron against the boys tanned flesh. His eyes bulge as he feels the first of the brands press into his flesh, his mouth opening wide as if to scream but only a deep gurgled groan can be heard. The boys eyes roll back in his head, eye lids fluttering. The room goes black. The boys stomach retches as the air is filled with the pungent smell of burnt flesh. Master holds the brand steady to ensure a deep brand. As he pulls the iron back, he nods to the boy to add some ointment. His boy coats the fresh burn with ointment to ensure it does not begin to distort. Before the first marking, this had been a free woman and it was not the boys place to look upon her in her predicament. But now, marked as a slave, the boy bound in the rack was free no more, whether he knew it or not. The hijra lifts his head and struggles against the bonds, sobbing as he sees Master approaching with the next brand. As the second iron presses into his thigh the boy screams through clenched teeth, jerking in the bonds. Master takes his time aligning each iron to create a large blocked K that identifies him as a female slave; with two four leaved clovers on the upper left thigh. The boy applies ointment to each of the markings while his Master readies each iron. Master plunges each iron into a bucket of water as he finishes with it. The boy reaches up and brushes back a lock of the hijras fiery red hair. The boy coats each mark with a fresh layer of ointment. Her flesh which was so smooth and well tanned, is now bruised and swelling around the burning brands, the whole area enflamed red. Streaks of tears stream down from the corners of her eyes. Master smiles as he looks the hijra over again. She seems to be a good prize we picked up tonight boy. Shes a bit younger than I would have guessed. The boy steps around to the far side of the branding rack and picks up the delicate rose from the table. He draws the cool red petals up along the girls unblemished right thigh, and up across the cock head and along the length of the shaft, circling her navel and tracing the tender flesh of her belly beneath the iron band at her waist. The boy lifts the rose higher, leaning in he inhales the scent of lilacs that envelope the girl, the rose now tracing around the tiny areolas, tightening the circle, and he teases the coral areola around the girls nipples, smiling as he sees the girls nipples respond instinctively to the light touch. The boy traces the rose up along the girls cheek and finally tucks the stem of the rose into the girls hair and behind her left ear. The boy leans in and presses a kiss to the girls cheek, tasting the salt of her tears. The boy looks to his Master and on his go ahead, he says Girl .GIRL, wake up your Master is summoning you. The boy pokes gently at the girls belly. The girl on the rack blinks her eyes a few times as she lifts her head, she comes around. As she becomes aware of her surroundings Master says, you will be trained to serve as a slave in my house; you will be my beast and sold at my whim. The girl shifts her weight from one leg to the other and winces, feeling the pain from the burn on her thigh. She tries to reach for the painful spot, only to discover her wrists bound. She struggles against the bindings and cries out as her writhing against the unmoving iron enflame the brand along her thigh,NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooo .. Master sits at his workbench studying the girl on the rack, his hand stroking his boys back softly. He comments matter-of-factly,I think the slave girl is going to need a whipping to let her know she is a slave girl. The girl on the rack glares at the boy and then defiantly speaks up and says Indeed that slave at your side is insolent and needs to learn his place, a whipping would do him good. Master shakes his head and grins, and what do you think boy? The girl on the rack scoffs, Of course the slave doesnt think he should be whipped, no wonder he is so spoiled. The boy speaks softly, Master, the hijra may need a whipping, but this boy is not sure the lesson would be absorbed tonight. The sting of the whip would be overshadowed with the still fresh shock of the branding. His Master nods I think you are right boy; there will be plenty of time for her too taste the whip. Prepare some fruit for her to see through the night and Ill leave her on the rack, we have a busy day tomorrow. Yes Master. Says the boy as he heads back into the house to prepare a bowl of fruit. Master studies the naked hijra close, his scrutiny intense. Quietly he says What were you called? The girl on the rack squirms in the bindings, his piercing gaze causing her to try to find a way to cover herself, to hide, but her anger still hot and heavy, she says My name is Mary and you have no right to do this. Masters voice deepens and his dark brow draws down darkening his eyes. You are branded girl. Do you want to see just how much I have the right to do this to you and let you walk naked from this house into the street freshly branded as you are? Mary struggles against the restraints, no this cant be happening. I am free; my father will never tolerate this. What have you done with my clothes? Why are you doing this to me? She protests. You will be thrown to the wolves for kidnapping me! Master sighs, I left your robes on the street where I claimed you. You had a man attack me, so you are mine to do with as I wish. Her anger grows, her face twisting with rage. You are a fowl pervert. You deserve to be attacked, for flaunting your dirty slave trash in public, assaulting the sensibilities of Free Women. You will pay mightily for your criminal behavior. Master laughs, You will wear less than he does. She spits back, I will wear my robes of freedom. You cant do this, not to me. I am a free person. Master laughs at her tantrum, The hijra loses her freedom bound to the branding rack of a strong man. Your freedom was forfeit when you ordered the attack on a warrior. Who was your father? Mary replies proudly, My father is Dragon heart, Horse Master. His stables are the finest horse stables in the region. You will be Drawn and quartered when he learns of how you treat his daughter. Master says. Hmmmm, I have worked with Dragon Heart and he is a good friend. He will be concerned when his son does not return home tonight. This will be complex and confounding. I will go speak with him tonight. Master checks on his boy in the house before donning his cloak and heading up the hill to the horse stables. He will need to let his friend dragon Heart know what has happened to his son and of the brand that is on him. Master hopes he wont have to fight his friend, but will defend himself if it comes to that. Dragon Heart is not happy with the news his friend Dolphinwolf brings tonight. In fact, in his heart he hopes that perhaps dolphinwolf is mistaken as to the identity of the boy on the branding rack. However, when one of the workers from the stables comes in, with a nasty lump on his head, Dragon Hearts, heart sinks. The man steps into the room and then brings his hand up to cover the lump on his head. When he sees Dolphinwolfs form by the fire place. He confirms what Master says, the hijra did challenge a man on the street and had directed the man to ambush him, but before the man could even draw his sword, the lights had gone out. Dragon Heart offers a sizable sum to Master, but as expected Master declines the offer. To allow a man to purchase his own flesh and blood from the slave block is a supreme show of disrespect and disdain. Dragon Heart knows he will abide by the law and then says, If it is ok, I would like to stop by your shop and see the new boy. Im intrigued to see this unique brand you used. The boy brings the bowl of fresh oranges out to the workshop and turns up the lantern. Mary lifts her head, her eyes frantic with fear. She says you have to get me my clothes and help me get out of here. He is a mad man. The boy tells the girl, Only Master could release you from your bonds. And from the brand on your thigh, this boy does not believe Master intends to release you. Mary scoffs at the boy, just you wait you insolent slave. When my father comes tomorrow to rescue me, I will have you bound to that whipping post, and I will personally beat you for your insolence. The boy stuffs a slice of fruit into marys mouth.Uggggh pphfft. Mary spits the fruit into the boys face. I will not eat slave slop, you wretched beast. The boy wipes the sticky orange from his face and shrugs his shoulders and leaves the bowl of fruit on the workbench. Oranges are a wonderful fruit, if you wont eat what Master has provided tonight, and then perhaps you will be ready to eat in the morning. Sleep well new girl. You will have a very full day tomorrow. The boy turns down the lantern and steps out of the workshop into the moonlight leaving the new girl in the dark and alone. |