kajiruspet
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Joined: 6/18/2010
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A Free Lady takes her latest acquisition, a former suitor, to the Metal Workers, thus ensuring orgasm is the last thing on his mind (at least for a little while!)
Entering the metal workers, The Lady Dahar cheerily called out “Tal”, rapping her knuckles impatiently on the counter.
Heeling her, on a leash, by hands tied with binding fibre behind my back, I too entered the shop of the metal workers, glad to be in a more private setting, away from the busy public streets that I had been led through. My mistress had not seen fit to give her kajirus any clothing.
With no more than the hand signal Mistress Kelly had taught me, she spread the first two fingers of her right hand and gestured downward, toward a place nearby in the corner to the left of the reception area. Immediately I knelt there, my knees widely spread.
"Put your head down, to the floor, boy." she ordered.
"Yes, Mistress," I moaned, fearful of what was going to happen to me. My head was down, touching the dirt floor. My fingers were together, my wrist bound behind my back. I was in her collar, on the end of her leash. The collar was steel, I could not remove it. I belonged to her. My body hurt, from her quirt that she had used liberally over my body when I had baulked at being taken nude onto the city streets.
"Please, Mistress," I sobbed. "Not like this! Not naked and leashed, please! Someone who knows me, might see!"
"For sure kajirus, but then they knew you as a free man, now you are a nameless male slave. One not even branded. If anybody does recognise you, it will not be as before, they will see you as perhaps one recalls a favoured pet; after all you are a pretty one," she had remarked.
“Please do not talk of me so!”
"You have a lovely ass," she had said. “I want to show you off, make other free women jealous.”
In pain from her quirt, red marks across my flesh, I pleaded one more time, still desperate to avoid being taken as a woman’s slave, nude in public, upon the streets and markets of Cos, the vary same neighbourhood I had grown up in.
"I will do with you as I please," she had said. “Be silent kajirus, I will hear no more of this!”
Now, having braved the streets, nude but thankfully unrecognised, I awaited my next ordeal.
I heard a man’s voice say “Tal and welcome my Lady. I am Landor of the caste of metal workers.”
“Tal. Good Sir. I am the Lady Dahar of Lydia ” the Lady Dahar said. “I have brought my kajirus to be branded. I would also have him pierced.”
“All good,” the man replied. “We can discuss the brands through in the workshop. Where do you want the piercing? And is he a silk slave? It is currently fashionable with the Free Ladies of Port Kar and Ar to have their silk slaves circumcised, but my sisters can tell you more with regards to that matter. ”
“Oh, I have already had him circumcised, so just nose ringed and a manhood piercing.”
“And the gauge of rings for each?”
“Ohhh, as large a gauge as possible! What’s the largest any new piercing will take?”
“The standard I recommend would be to commence with a 10 guage piercing,” The man spoke. “Then about once every six weeks you can fit him with a larger guage. I would not recommend you progress any quicker than that and even then he will be rather sore a lot of the time. He will also feel a slight restriction of urine flow. For that reason, I would not recommend going larger then a 3 or 4 guage for that reason.”
I waited my head to the dirt, as my next ordeal was discussed by my mistress, with no consideration to what I might think or want.
“Although I fully respect your advice, I want him started on an 8 guage, I want him fitted with large rings as soon as possible.”
“As you see fit my lady. The implications of such a choice can be discussed with my partner and sister, The Lady Delia. While it is I who does the branding, it will be she who pierces him.”
“Very well,”
“Bring him through then,” said the man. “You can discuss your requirements further as the irons are heated.”
The Lady Dahar snapped her fingers.
I looked up and hurried to her. She had kept the palm of her hand up, so I did not kneel. Instead I stood unhappily before her. My eyes lowered I awaited her command.
She took hold of my leash and with a tug, that jerked my neck, signalled I should once again heel her. I followed my mistress, catching only a glimpse of the man she had discussed me with. He was definitely a man, of the metal workers, dirty, dressed in his work overall of blackened leather. I assumed he was Landor. We passed an opening covered only by multicolour beads, hung on long lengths of binding fiber, that scraped the dirt floor. The heat of the furnaces and fires hit my body like a wall, it was intense, that for the first time, briefly, I was quite glad of my lack of attire. Despite such minor comforts, having heard their conversation fully, I was petrified of what my imminent future had in store for me. As I entered the works area, a cold hand of utter dread gripped my innards and squeezed. About us, hanging from the roof, mounted on walls, vast arrays of equipment was displayed, equipment that on attending such workshops I had viewed simply as tools the trade, however now, about to be subject to one or more pieces, I viewed each and every one as a lethal instrument of torture.
The man paused and called out, “Delia!”
The Lady Dahar, signalled that I should kneel.
I did so. In the tower position. My knees were closed, I was before a man.
The man turned, “My sister will be out shortly.”
“We have plenty of time, I am in no hurry,” she said, contrary to her previous urgency I thought. Perhaps she heard my thought, as she looked down at me then.
It was at that time, I was surprised by the sting of her quirt. “No, no, no boy!” She almost screamed. “Male silk slaves, keep their knees widely spread, free persons may look upon you as they see fit!”
Under her still falling lash, I struggled to form the position of a Gorean pleasure slave. Only after some time, after I had endured the stinging leather of the quirt, did The Lady Dahar acknowledge I was in the correct position, that she expected.
"Come now, my pretty slave," said The Lady Dahar, calmly, her rage gone as quickly as it arrived. "Kneel straight. Back straight, heads up. Back on your heels there! Spread those knees, just like Mistress Kelly taught you. Yes, that is the way women like it. Good. Good. Excellent!"
"To avoid such misunderstandings in the future, understand boy, that for you it is a standing order, to keep your knees open," she said.
Glumly, I said, “Yes Mistress.”
I now knelt in the position of a pleasure slave, before both my Mistress and the metal worker, Landor. Although I was some six feet in height, and of some strength, I saw that he was a thick muscled fellow, who’s bulk and size dwarfed my own.
“Now, greet the free man who is to brand you kajirus, as a slave.” said the Lady Dahar to me, imperiously.
“That is not necessary, Lady Dahar,” said the metal worker.
“Oh no I insist, you can see he is new to his collar and is still in need of being trained.”
“Get to it boy!”
I fell forward, lowering myself to my belly in the dir as best I could with my hands still confined behind my back, I pressed my lips to his boots, tasting dust in my mouth, thus humiliatingly kissing the feet of a man for the first time in my life.
“Enough boy, return to the skirts of your Mistress!” Landor commanded angrily.
Needing little encouragement, I swiftly resumed my kneeling position.
“Well, well, what have we here then?” a new bouncing, female, voice asked.
“Ah sister,” Landor said, “This is the Lady Dahar, she has brought a kajirus for branding and for some your more specialised modifications.”
“Oh goody. Tal and pleased to meet you Lady Dahar.”
“I am Lady Delia,”
“Likewise, I am sure,”
“And what do we have here?”
“Only a kajirus, fresh to his collar. One that, with the kiss of the iron, will be another step on the road to his taming.”
“Greet your better, kajirus!” my mistress ordered.
Once again, on my belly in the dirt, I grovelled at a free person’s booted feet, before returning to my kneeling position.
“Ha,” the Lady Deila chuckled. “May I?”
“Be my guest,”
She suddenly snapped her fingers and, in the swift double gesture, pointed to a place on the dirt floor at her feet, almost simultaneously turning her hand, spreading the first and index fingers, pointing downwards.
I fled to her and knelt before her, my knees in the dirt, in the position of the pleasure slave, my head down, trembling. She was then beside me, touching and guiding my body, positioning me as she wanted.
Under the torchlight I was now on her knees, the Lady Delia at my side, holding me behind the small of the back.
"Put your head back," she said. I did so. "Farther back," she said. I put my head farther back…my head went farther back, guided as she leaned me over, further backwards until my head touched the ground.
Lady Delia said to my mistress, “This position, the Gorean love bow, would be a bit difficult for a slave to do on his own unless he were quite limber and ambidextrous, but I fin it best for discussing the details of where a Lady would most like to adorn her property.”
“I can see that!” laughed the Lady Dahar.
“Now where were you thinking of having him pierced?”
I felt hideously exposed and vulnerable, my manhood and balls pushed up and well displayed.
“Ahh, sorry to interrupt,” Landor said, “While you ladies discuss the kajirus, I have work. Excuse me, as I heat the irons.”
Both ladies nodded, acknowledging his departure.
“My brother, gets uneasy when I discuss such things,” The Lady Delia explained. “Sometimes, I think he even feels sorry for the tarsks. Perhaps it is a brotherhood or malehood or something”
“So Lady Dahar, what are you after?”
“As I discussed with your brother, I wish to have him fitted with a nose ring and and a manhood piercing, with an eight guage.”
“Hmmm,” the Lady Delia mused. I saw her reach towards me, and felt her take my manhood between finger and thumb. She leaned over me, squeezing me, examining me closely.
I could not help but respond as would any man touched so by a woman.
“He is a lively one!” she laughed, “Such men make delightful slaves!” Still, she touched and manoeuvred my arousal. I found it difficult to not squirm under such treatment, but I could see both from the Lady Delia at her work and in the intent eyes of my mistress, that such a response would not be welcomed favourably, thus I endured.
Wiping her hands upon her thighs, she left me, still aroused, standing to talk.
“My brother was right with regards to the 10 gauge, but if you can vouch for his bravery and daily cleansing afterwards, his urethra opening is suitable.”
“Good.”
I think it was the wicked glint in the Lady Dahar’s eyes when the Lady Delia asked about the gauge size, that decided it for her regardless of any recommendation.
“Normally I would suggest you permit him relief at this stage, as you can see such handling creates a standard response in male slaves. That is because most women piercing in still a new trend in the market, so the when they bring their male slaves most are already branded. However, as your tarsk is about to be branded, we can brand him first and then I can ensure the last thing on his mind will be sexual relief, so he should just be just as manageable as one that has just had relief.”
“Perfect!”
“I have a great selection of ring designs and obviously in the different gauges we have discussed, but you should know, the diameter of the ring is decided by the arc and distance between the end of his urethra and the exit point of the piercing. This can result in some rather large rings. From looking at him, and based on the eight gauge you want I would think you can go up to a one inch diameter ring with him.”
I could not see the tray of rings that were being displayed to my mistress but the size seemed awfully large from my point of view.
My mistress reviewed several rings, picking up several, before presumably making her choice, when the Lady Delia, nodded, “A fine choice, Lady Dahar.”
“And for his nose rings, these would be suitable on this tray. You will see you have a greater selection as there are less restrictions, some even have bells on, which some Free Ladies, find quite amusing.”
“Now, as Landor should have has prepared the brands by now, we shouldn’t really keep the poor boy waiting any longer for his branding should we?” The Lady Delia beamed.
“Up, up kajirus.”
“Come this way, the branding racks are just through here.”
**
Still with my hands bound behind me, the Lady Delia had directed me before her, head bowed, directing my with grip in my hair. She literally threw me in to a branding rack and before I knew it she had freed my wrists, from each other, and pulled them forward, to the two posts, some 6 inches apart, part of the branding rack, putting them in the snap bracelets which dangled there, one from each post, which she snapped about my wrists.
As the bracelets are situated, some inches apart, of course, and as the snap is on each bracelet itself, at the wrist, I found myself unable with either hand, to touch the bracelets. Others may open them easily; I, on the other hand, was perfectly secure.
I watched Landor return, huffing and puffing as he carried a glowing brazier, its handles wrapped in heavy cloth, from which protruded the handles of four branding irons. He placed this near the branding rack.
“How do you work in such a hot environment?” she twittered.
“One gets accustomed, my Lady.” straining with the weight.
I regarded it, wild-eyed.
I did not think I could stand, if it were not for the supporting slave bracelets.
Landor then lifted me, my weight was nothing for him. He carried me, my leash trailing beside him, to the height of the central block of the rack. There, with the help of his sister, he lowered me into the heavy rack, and spun shut the sturdy vices on my left and right thighs.
I winced, unable to move my thighs, dismayed at the perfect tightness with, which they were held.
With a heavy glove, Landor pulled an iron from the brazier. "What do you think of this brand?" he asked my mistress.
It was the Taharic slave mark.
"It is suitable for a pretty slave," she said. "But let us assure ourselves that this will be a common slave, one fit to sell anywhere."
"A good idea," said the Lady Delia.
Landor returned the one iron to the brazier and reached for another. It glowed red. It was a fine iron, clean and precise. At it's tip, bright red, was the common Kajira slave mark of Gor.
I looked upon it with dread.
"It is not yet hot enough, my pretty," said the Lady Delia.
Landor returned it to the brazier.
"Don't brand me!" I cried. "Please don't brand me!" I wept.
"Be quiet,"
I bit my lip, drawing blood.
In a few Ehn he removed the iron from the coals, and examined it. He then again replaced it. Shortly thereafter, however, for it must have been almost ready, he drew it forth again. It glowed white.
“You may scream and cry out, my pretty," said my owner, the Lady Dahar not unkindly. It is common Gorean practice to allow the slave the luxury of screaming, since it is in effect their final act as a free person.
I struggled in the bracelets, I watched the iron. It was white hot.
The iron was leveled. It approached the round aperture in the vise, through which, deeply into my thigh, it would be thrust, and held, burning and hissing, until its work was done, until the I was marked, and well, as slave meat.
I saw him sink the glowing iron my thigh, smoking and hissing. I screamed. For five long ihn Landor held the iron, pressing it in. Then he, cleanly, withdrew it.
I was marked.
Landor examined his work, nodded and turned away, leaving me in the hands of the two she devils.
I sobbed, wildly.
The Lady Delia approached and leaned over me. “Enough kajirus! It is done now, you are marked as any slave or bosk. We are not finished with you yet.”
“Enough I say!”
I winced, as she then slapped me about the face, until my cries were reduced to sobbing.
The Lady Dahar then approached too, smiling. Taking my head in her lap, she managed to keep me as relaxed as possible under the circumstances, compassionately stroking my head.
Without a hubbub, the Lady Delia liberally swabbed the area about my manhood, where the placement for of my piercing had been marked. Then she took hold of my balls, and guided my manhood into the mouth of a wicked looking clamp, which with her other hand she spun excruciatingly shut. Once more I cried out.
“Be quiet boy, it is as important as in your branding that you ca not move during the procedure.”
My thigh on fire, and the gentle stroking of Lady eased my woes, leading me into a false sense of security. I had a bad moment when I saw the Lady Delia wielding an instrument, a strange awl-like
Instrument.
“This is an eight gauge dermal punch,” she explained not for my interest, but that of my owners. ”Basically the larger the punch gauge, the cleaner a dermal punch piercing tends to be.”
Handling me with practised ease, she brought the device to my manhood.
“See I told you he would have other things on his mind,” she laughed displaying my very, limp manhood.
I could only see a little of what she was doing, but I saw my mistress watching on avidly.
I felt the Lady Delia slip my manhood into the sheath of the device, then I whimpered in pain as something entered my urethra. One jab, a bit of burning pain, lasting a second or so, a gasp and a clutch of Lady Dahar’s hand and it was over.
Both I and my mistress, watched as I was swabbed, to clear much of the bleeding and as the golden ring selected earlier, was thread through my flesh by the nimble fingers of the Lady Delia.
The puncture itself was nothing like my near hysterical expectations, but the bleeding was much more than I had been prepared for. In fact the clamping was actually the most uncomfortable part of the whole procedure.
Afterwards, in my nose, my septum was summarily punched and after being fitted with a smaller ring, I was left in the rack, but thankfully released from the cruel grip of the clamp.
I even managed to ignore the cruel jibe by the Lady Delia as she double checked jokingly whether my mistress was sure whether she wanted me to keep my balls or not, saying that she would geld me on the house.
Shutting my eyes, I dosed in and out of consciousness, recovering from my body modifications at the hand of a Gorean Mistress.
I awoke sometime later, in pain, but fully aware of my situation and feelings. The first thing I checked was that I was still a man, and I was reassured that I felt no new pain in my groin.
To my side, sipping black wine, the Lady Delia chatted with my mistress, detailing the routines to avoid infection. “The bleeding should pretty much stop by the end of the day...”
My ears perked up when I heard, “It is possible to masturbate after only two days,”
Despite what I had just been through, I felt a small glow of happiness, until I heard the full statement, “but he will suffer afterwards. Often, it is amusing to order such an action for something they hanker after every day only to find it is the last thing in the world they actually want!”
The Lady Dahar laughed, “Yes, then to lock him away again, knowing he no longer wants it!”
“I think your kajirus has rejoined us, look.” The two women got up, my mistress still holding her cup of steaming black coffer, smiled not unkindly.
The Lady Deila walked about me. Working the vices, they were spun loose. My hands were freed of the restraining slave bracelets, only then to be tied with a cord behind me again. Dismayed and sobbing I was freed of the rack and put on my knees, head down, at the feet of the Lady Dahar.
I shuddered, feeling the coils of her whip move on my stomach, between my thighs "You may resume your original position," she said. I returned then to my former position, with my hands on my thighs.
Standing above me The Lady Delia spoke again, condescendingly, “He is new to his collar, yet like any male, he will be greatly disconcerted about the changes you, a woman, have brought upon his body, the most fundamental being having to pee crouching down only, but remember, other than the brand, the procedures were mostly painless; about as painful as a bee sting. Ensure he is washed daily, use warm salty water, boiled and left to cool.”
“Than you for your advice, you are skilled at your work.”
“Kajirus, I am sure you wish to thank the Lady Delia too.”
Despite, seething with anger, I restrain myself, knowing the impotence of a male slave’s anger. Instead, docily I lowered my lips to her booted feet and lavished her dusty toes with my tongue.
**
A short time later, a mistress and kajirus, stood outside the metal workers shop, in the bright daylight. Even feeling the sun rays upon my flesh, helped my rehabilitation, as the sun was something that the free and slave alike could enjoy.
The Lady Dahar addressed me. "You are now branded, collared and your flesh pierced. In the eyes of Gorean law you are an animal. You have no name in your own right. You may be collared and leashed. You may be bought and sold, whipped, treated as I your owner pleases, disposed of even as I see fit. You have no rights whatsoever. Legally you have no more status than a tarsk or vulo. Legally, literally, you are an animal. But then, I think you know that don’t you kajirus?"
The Lady Dahar stood closer to me, her breath warming my cheek. Between her fingertips, she gently toyed with my newly pierced manhood.
I flinched, wincing, but endured as my mistress’s fingers explored her property as was her whim.
“Now you are a true kajirus, I will name you.”
“For now,” she smiled, her fingers still toying with me, “My pretty, I think I will call you dung.”
A free person tricked into slavery had been locked in the branding rack. Truly a mere animal was released from it. The name "dung" had now been put on me as a mere slave name, a name which might be removed or changed at the whim of my owners. I wore the name "dung" now merely as a named animal, merely by the will and decision of my owner, the Lady Dahar.
“Now dung,” the Lady Dahar smiled, “It is time you meet your public, I am sure you will want to impress the Free Ladies and kajiria alike, with how brave you have been and what a man you are to bear such a high gauge with your first piercing. Such are the things, I hear, slaves brag about.”
Now, having been branded, she meant for me to brave the streets again, still nude, trotting along beside her. Not for the first time, I wondered how my fall from grace had been so swift and so complete.
**
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a Gorean femdom tale: A Free Lady takes her latest acqu... - 
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