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The Branding and Neutering of a Slave Master, wakes his boy, sleeping at the foot of his bed, attached to the slave ring. His Master unlocks the manacle restraining the boy. Get up boy; we have a busy day ahead. Master dons his work tunic. His slave still sitting on the floor, wiping his eyes, and yawning. The boy rises to his knees, awaiting Masters command. Master leaves the bedroom, slapping his hip, signaling the boy to heel. The boy rises and follows his Master through the house, and through the servery, out into the yard. Master stops at the well for a drink of water and to splash his face. You may drink boy. Master says. The boy takes up the ladle, from the pail and drinks the cool water. Clouds are rolling in from the west, darkening the sky. The day will be cooler today. Master proceeds to the workshop, again slapping his hip and the boy follows. He takes his boy directly to the shop, pausing at the door to unlock the hasp, and then opening the door to the left. The boy stops at the thresh hold sinks to his knees, head to the pressed dirt floor, arms extended out in front of him. Palms to the floor. May your boy enter and be of service to you Master? Master motions him in and instructs him to open the windows, and then kneel by the branding rack. Master commands his boy to stand and lean backwards over the sloped branding rack. The boy does as he is told, leaning back, grabbing the sides of the rack, easing himself in position. The muscles in his arms flex and extend as he moves, showing off his physique. Master fastens the hasp around his abdomen and then fastens his wrists, ankles, neck, and thighs to the rack. His thighs spread widely, showing his manhood clearly. Master retrieves some logs from the stack behind the door and places them over the coals in the forge. Stoking the coals, he grasps the bellow handles, pulling down, and forcing breath into the fire. Moving the handle up again, drawing in another breath, he pushes the handle down. He pumps the bellows five more times. Master traces carefully from the boys hip down along his left thigh to his knee. He pauses scratching his chin through his beard. Master moves over to the cabinet and swings both doors open. Inside the cabinet are rows of black iron rods. At the end of each dark rod are a variety of designs. Block letters for female slaves, cursive letters for male slaves, loops, curves, bars, flowers petals and penalty brands for liars, thieves, runaways, traitors, and numerous commissioned personal brands are stored in the cabinet. Master looks over his shoulder at the boys ivory thigh, smiles and nods, reaching in the cabinet and draws out a set of five brands. He plunges the cold irons into the glowing red hot coals in the forge and draws the breath of the bellows into the forge four more times. Master knows he must get the boys endorphins running so he will withstand the pain he is about to face. On a hook over the cabinet are ball stretchers and constricting bands. He takes four bands and the ball stretcher down from the hooks, looking in the cabinet he also reaches in to get the ointment. Setting the ointment and bands on the workbench, he turns his attention to his boy. This will not be easy for you, and you may die. Master says standing between his thighs. Reaching up carefully but deliberately, he grabs the boys balls, forming a ring with his thumb and forefinger, just under his cock; he herds the two jewels into the bottom of the sack. Pulling, he forces the skin and ball cords to stretch. The boy wincing almost yelling, grabbing the side of the branding rack, with hands clenched, he moves his hips as if trying to move them away from his Master. When they are at the right angle and position, he places the ball stretcher, made of stiff leather and binding leather straps, between the boys cock and balls. He fastens it tightly tying the straps around the leather. His boys cock shrivels as he endures the waves of pain that engulf his very being. Master waits for a time, before applying the bands. Master checks his fire to make sure the brands are changing colors. He readies a bucket of water in which he will cool the brands and sets it beside the branding rack. He checks the condition of the boys balls. They are enflamed red and start to feel cool. Satisfied that it is time, he gathers the bands from the workbench and positions himself once again between the boys thighs. He loops the bands, between the base of his cock and the top of the ball stretcher, over and over again, pulling his balls through each loop, tightening the bands. Master places each of the four bands, in the same manner. His boy passes out from the pain; his head lay limp, against the rack. It will not be long now boy. He whispers under his breath. Master arranges the irons in the order he will need them, the designs on each rod, now white hot. His boy begins to come to, lifting his head. Master takes the first iron from the forge and holds it so the boy can see and know what is happening to him. Before he can draw in a breath, Master presses the hot iron against the boys ivory flesh. His eyes widen as he feels the first of the five irons kiss his hip, his mouth gapes as if to scream but he passes out from the pain again, without a sound.. Master holds the brand steady to ensure a deep brand. As he pulls the iron back, reaching in the jar of ointment and applies it to the burn, in order to keep it from distorting. This alone will ensure the following imprints will be as clear as the first and result in the desired mark. Again his slave awakens, with tears streaming down his face, he sees his Master approaching with the second iron. The second iron is pressed into his thigh and the boy collapses in the bounds, not just swooning but fully unconscious and in shock. Master takes his time now aligning each brand to create a large honeysuckle flower that climbs from the boys knee to his hip. Each time he brands, he applies more of the ointment. Master plunges each iron in the bucket of water as he finishes with it. Master reaches over to wipe a lock of the boys hair from his face. Master smiles as he looks the boy over again. Hes so young . He places a soft kiss to the boys cheek. His flesh which was so smooth and ivory pure is now swelling around the burning brands and blotchy red. Master releases the boy, picking up the limp body; he places him on the floor beside the branding rack. Wrapping the burns in a cloth, to keep out the dirt, Master reattaches his wrists to the side of the branding rack in bracer cuffs. He must be kept here, bound, for a few weeks. A month has gone by since the boys branding, and his ball sack has shriveled black, the balls inside dead. Tying his boy to spreader bars ,between his feet, thighs and hands, he forces him onto his hands and knees, making his balls easier to get to, his master fires the forge. Placing a large sharp knife in the coals, he moves the bellows a few times, causing the knife to become red hot. Do not move boy. Master says. Taking the knife in gloved hands, he grabs his boys balls, pulling them back; he cuts the skin between the ball spreader and the bands. Cauterizing the flesh as he draws the steel blade through the tissues. The boy barely feels the knife; his balls have become numb from the constriction bands. The boys balls coming off into his hand. Theres very little blood. Master applies more of the ointment, that he used on the boys brands, and applies a dressing to the wound. He will be good as new in a few days, he has done well. I am pleased. Master releases the boy, allowing him out of the shop. The boys steps are staggered, as he tries to walk with his legs spread, not wanting to irritate the wound further. He stops at the door and drops to his knees, begging entry, May your slave enter, Master? You may enter and come kneel by me on the furs The boy kneels by his Master to listening to his stories of battles fought and won, Spending the evening cuddled in front of the hearth. The morning comes and his Master checks the wound, satisfied with the scab that has formed, cuts the bands from around the nub of flesh that is still visible. The nub stretches itself out as the bands are cut, revealing a scabbed circle where his balls once were. Master Dolphinwolf (Aug. 4, 2005) |