More Than One Way To Skin A Cat (Part 1)

I frowned down at the women restrained on the table. Normally it didn’t take me very long to break people. Most days, I’d hit them a bit, to get them familiar with pain. Then I’d show them another way. I’d stroke and prod and fondle until they were right on the brink of coming. And then I’d stop and make them wait. After a few repetitions, they’d scream and writhe and beg me to do anything to them, anything at all if they could only just come. I’d have my way with them and make them come and with that memory, they’d be mine forever.

There are other ways I’ve tried (as trying one of them with another soon-to-be-slave at the same time, as a matter of fact), but this was the most reliable. Normally it guaranteed results in a few hours, a day at most.

This one had resisted for two days now. She was covered in sweat and her breath came in uneven gasps. But she hadn’t begged. After the first day, I had applied pain again. I’d whipped her with a rattan cane until her voice went hoarse from screaming, then held her on the very edge of orgasm for an hour at a time, but still she hadn’t begged me to finish her.

Now, an iron rod was heating in a brazier. I’d used elaborate brands before. If one of my toys strayed, I would repeat their initial process, but make it much more painful. I’d use canes and leave welts. I would hold them at the point right before orgasm even longer than I had held this one. And I wouldn’t even give them the option of coming. Eventually, they’d beg me to take them back and as the proof of their loyalty, I’d have them brand themselves. No one ever strayed again after that.

This was a crude brand. Not elaborate at all. It didn’t carry my mark. The point was the pain and fear.

She had been propped up so that she could watch what I was doing. She was trembling with fear, but she still hadn’t begged.

I was between her legs, slowly stroking her clit. At least some of her trembling had to have come from that. This was the tail end of one of those hour-long sessions I’d mentioned.

I used my other hand to gesture at the brand.

“Once I pick this up, I will use it. If you beg for mercy now, I’ll spare you it. Just beg me to make you come. Tell me you want it, want to be my slave, and this will all end.”

She shook her head. I sighed. I stopped touching her. Her hips involuntarily bucked towards my finger as I removed it.

“Your body wants me. Why can’t you just admit it?”

She shook her head again.

I touched her again and within a second she was moving into me, grinding into my hand.

“You want it. Just give up now.”

For a third time, she shook her head.

I went to the brazier and grabbed the branding iron. Her eyes went wide with terror.

“No, please, please don’t please!”

“It’s too late. I’m going to brand you once. But if you beg me, if you tell me you want me, if you agree to be my slave, then it will only be once.”

She managed to clamp her jaw shut.

I stood over her. I held the iron right above her face. Her eyebrows blackened with the heat of it. I brought it down over her body. I held it above her breast. I kept it close enough that she had to modulate her breathing; with her hyperventilation, her chest was at risk of heaving into it.

But still she didn’t beg, so I brought it down lower on her body, held it over her open pussy lips and engorged clit.

“Maybe I should just give up on you. Maybe I should leave you unable to feel pleasure again.”

I brought it closer. Her pubic hair charred. “Yes, I think I’ll do that.”

“NO! Please, I’ll do anything; I’ll be your slave! Please, I need to come, please make me come.”

I shook my head. “It’s too late for that.”

“Please, I’ll be your most loyal slave. I’ll do anything you ask. Brand me anywhere, I know I’ve been bad and have to be branded. But don’t brand me there.”

I nodded. That was it then. She’d been broken. She was mine now. I grabbed her left breast roughly and pressed the brand into the underside of it. There was a sound of hissing flesh, quickly drowned out by her shriek. I removed the brand and threw it back into the brazier. She kept screaming.

“You’ve been on the verge of coming for two days. Now I’m going to give you the strongest orgasm of your life. You’ll never break the association between pain and pleasure I’m about to give you. You’re always going to beg me to hurt you and you’re going to come when I do.”

She kept screaming.

Her pain made me hard. I slipped on a cock ring and set it to vibrate as hard as I could. She’d exhausted her own lubrication in the first day, so I lubed myself up. Then I thrust inside of her.

Her body responded to me, pushing into me, grinding her clit up against my vibrator. The pleasure overwhelmed the pain in her mind and her screams turned to moans. She sought solace in my mouth and I kissed her greedily.

I could feel her moaning into my mouth. I could feel her body shaking. I stopped, with the vibrator just away from touching her. “Beg me,” I demanded.

She did. She begged and begged. She was still begging me to be her master, to make her feel this good, to always do this to her when I made her come. She was still begging when I came inside her a few minutes later. She begged as she had orgasm after orgasm, as the pleasure became pain and then pleasure again. She was entirely broken.

I lay on top of her for a long time afterwards, languid and relaxed. She cried for a long time, but managed to reduce it to sniffles when I stroked her hair and told her she was a good slave.

Eventually, I got up and summoned one of my medical techs to care for her. I had another project I wanted to check up on.

---