Dirty Hands

After that night, she couldn't bear to be parted from him. She cried and collapsed into a ball when he pushed her away. She mewled and clung to him whenever he allowed it, and though she was physically able to go to class the next day, they instead spent the next three days wrapped in one another. She broke down sobbing when he decided to take a shower, shattered by the dual torments of being abandoned on the bathroom floor and of facing the horrible specter of her fear again so soon. But then, with dogged determination, she swallowed her fear.

She entered the shower. She crawled between his legs, and she wrapped her mouth around his cock, and she closed her eyes and held herself close to him. After that, she almost seemed human once more—to the extent that she ever had been. He was once again amazed by the strength and resilience of his slave.

And now he was sure that she was his. At least for this little while. At least until he cast her aside, she belonged to him. He wondered idly how many masters she had served. How many cocks she had tasted. How many whips. But she was as much his as she could be: he had scarred her in mind and body, marked her as his. What more could he ask of her? They were happy together—or at least he was happy, and she made it plain to him that his happiness was her own. Whether or not that could really be true was an answer beyond his understanding.

"What would you like for Christmas?" he asked her one evening when they lay together, sweating and spent, luxuriating in one another.

"A brand, Sir," she whispered.

By now, he knew her well enough that this answer didn't surprise him. He smiled at her and kissed her. "Have you gotten me my present yet?" he asked.

"No, Sir," she breathed. "What would You like?"

Without thinking, he answered her: "I want to join the Bitter Elm."

Her reaction was not what he expected.

For a moment, Ash froze in his arms. And then she lowered her eyes, even though they had been intimate only moments ago, and he'd been gentle with her, and he'd asked her to set aside all restrictions for the moment. She shivered as if she were freezing, and there was a little movement of her throat as she swallowed.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No," she said—and immediately corrected herself: "No, Sir."

"I was told you could provide me an introduction."

"Yes, Sir," she said, her words hardly audible. "It shall be done as You desire."

It was a strange moment, but he was happy in her arms. He forgot the incident almost as soon as it occurred, leaving the matter in her capable hands. He thought of taking her home for Christmas, to introduce his slave to his parents, but she pointed out that a branding might be a difficult thing to hide—if indeed he meant to brand her. In the end, they returned to her cabin in the mountains, which was only just accessible through the deepening snow.

They were wholly alone for a period of seven blissful days, and then the strange doctor returned—this time with a very lovely young assistant who, he said, was an expert in both body modification and fellatio. Upon hearing this, Ash could only lower her eyes and blush before smiling at Justin.

The mark he chose was a T, placed on her right shoulder. She was bound between two posts and whipped, but only on the front of her body. He knew the moment she was ready: her eyes opened to him and he could look in on her naked soul, and he nodded at the young woman who held the iron. The metal was at the perfect temperature when it met Ash's flesh. It hissed and smoked, and Ash never moved. Never so much as flinched. She drank the pain for him.

For Him. For her Lord God.

"By Your will," she moaned, and then she watched in rapture as the young woman began to suck his cock.

"You're mine now," he said. "Forever."

She smiled a secret smile. He didn't finish in the young woman's mouth; instead, he pulled out and she offered her ass, and he fucked her crudely. Afterward, his slave was unbound and bathed the woman's ravaged asshole with her tongue, drinking his seed one stained drop at a time. It was among the most perfect evenings he could remember: a Christmas he would never, ever forget.

And then, on New Year's Day, he awoke to find that Ash was gone.