Daphne's Downfall Ch. 02

"What brings you into my shop with this nice piece of slave tail with the drippy slave snatch?"

"This is my niece, Daphne, and she is here to get the Big D badge burned between the cheeks on the left side. This morning she became a slave as part of a civil judgment. She has something to ask you."

Claire removed my gag and I looked up at Merle. I shuddered as another girl shrieked through her gag as a blacksmith left their mark. Soon that would be me. I wasn't sure I could speak coherently.

"Mr. Adkins...um...can I...um...slave tip you sir...ah...before you...brand me, please?"

Merle grinned down at me adjusting the branding bench to get my head up to the right height. Since I really couldn't move my head or use my hands I figured I would have to use a lot of tongue while getting face fucked. The thought of getting face-fucked right now, strapped to a branding bench at the Big D, was weirdly appealing as my pussy throbbed in anticipation as my arousal spiked. Even with my kinky thoughts I was really concerned that Merle's cock would be more than I could handle. I mean he was a big guy but when he pulled it out it was normal size and I had no problem accommodating him. Soon he was pumping away in my mouth as I massaged his shaft with my tongue trying my best to get him off.

Claire was on to something as the power dynamics affected me. This was one of my more enthusiastic blow jobs with the atmosphere spiking my slave heat with my drippy slave snatch. That is what Merle called it after all. Claire started harvesting my fluids, capturing them on her fingers and moistening my rosebud. Then she lightly rubbed my wet starburst, sensuously massaging my sphincter on the outside sending jolts to my clit and nipples. I actually tried pushing back on her thumb seeking penetration all to no avail as I moaned happily on the cock in my mouth.

All the while Merle and Claire were taking a trip down memory lane for my benefit like when he made her hump the branding iron handle before getting her first badge. That climax was momentous for Claire, convincing her that it made the whole process better. So much so that she hunted him down afterwards, slave tipping him with a blow job in the parking lot. After that she called ahead for each subsequent brand to make sure Merle was available. Then there was the Olympic circles badging where Claire brought in the girls from the bronze medal ponygirl team. Merle was still impressed with those women even today. Most Olympic athletes get the circles tattooed, but not these girls. Real ponygirls get brands, not tattoos. Then he invited Claire to speak at one of his slave psychology classes at SMU over the summer. Yes, Merle the redneck was a professor of psychology at SMU who put himself through school working as a blacksmith at the Big D. Didn't see that one coming either. Currently he was an advisor at the Big D who moonlighted in the smithy, loving his work. Then his hips started giving him away as his thrusts became more urgent and he unloaded in my mouth. Claire told me to swallow and I did, not missing a drop this time as I worked to perfect a new skill.

Merle put his junk away while Claire positioned a worn bite gag in my mouth, securing both it and the fresh taste of semen in place. Grabbing a branding iron out of the coals Merle squatted down in front of me so that we were at eye level with each other. He held the iron with the branding head between us. I could feel the heat emanating from the bright orange head bearing the Big D logo on my face. Merle blew on the glowing head causing the coloration to fluctuate. I was captivated, marveling at the beauty of the hot iron. It almost seemed alive. Merle sensed my awe.

"Look at the magnificence of the hot branding head, the different shades of hot orange as I blow on it, it is alive. Badging a girl is an art form. It is not just pushing down and counting to ten. Creating the perfect brand is a combination of the right heat, dwell time holding the iron in place, rocking the head to ensure uniformity and the force used to push the iron into the flesh. The question is do you want the perfect brand?"

I nodded my head with glazed eyes hypnotized by the glowing iron before me. Merle grinned and spat on the branding head causing it to sizzle as my eyes bulged open bringing me out of my trance. What was I getting myself into? My nipples were as hard as diamonds and me pussy throbbing in need strapped down helplessly on this bench engulfed in the heat, sounds and smells of the smithy. My inner slut had definitely broken free as my pussy drooled.

"Most slave girls fear the brand, fight it, and fail to respect it. Badging finalizes their fall into slavery driving home the inevitability of their new lives and thus leading to acceptance. You respected the badge when you came into my shop having already recognized the finality of your enslavement. I can see it in your eyes now, respect and more importantly lust. Your Aunt Claire embraced her badging, respecting the art of a hot iron stamp, making love to the branding iron. It is a truly transformative experience. Most slave girls remember the intensity of their first slavegasm rolling in the sand on the auction block and the pain of badging. Only a small few get to make love to the branding iron, experiencing the inferno-like passion of climaxing during the badging process. Every detail gets permanently etched in their memory. They are the lucky ones."

With that Merle stood up, moving into position behind me loosening the strap around my waist giving me some freedom of movement. I could still feel the warmth from the heated iron behind me. He had a real way with the branding iron handle rubbing, massaging my labia with the smooth wooden handle working his way to my clitty. It was like he knew my body better than I did as I moaned in pleasure. In no time at all he had me panting in need as I felt a massive orgasm starting to build up from deep within me.

Merle had me on the edge rubbing my distended nubbin with the handle. He pulled it away and rammed it home followed by quick, deep strokes in my birth canal. I was humping back for all I was worth like the needy little slut I had become. Somehow each stroke caught me just right and I was getting close to a very explosive climax. There was something oddly erotic about humping the handle of the branding iron that was about to burn a badge into your ass while enveloped in the smells and sounds of the smithy. Yesterday I had learned to associate pain with sexual pleasure to the point I sought the pain to enhance my pleasure. The excruciating cry of another girl in pain triggered a response in my subconscious initiating my explosion and I blew a gasket all over the handle drenching it with my fluids as I rode out a most exquisite climax.

The handle was gently pulled out as I gasped in disappointment through the bite gag, not wanting it to end, needing more, so ready for more, much more. I wanted another. For some strange reason I was reminded of that scene from Oliver Twist where he asks, "Please, sir, I want some more." My plea was granted. Claire's fingers quickly replaced the handle, I recognized her touch, sending a jolt of excitement through me. Merle strode over to the forge pushing the head of the branding iron deep into the glowing coals. It was the only one with pussy juice glistening on the handle. My juices started steaming in the heat of the forge.

"The iron will be the right temperature when the handle has dried," grinned Merle as he proceeded to tighten the strap around my waist followed by rubbing an oddly cold antiseptic wipe on the inside of my left buttock.

Dazed, I stared at the steaming branding iron, watching the head heat up as I remained in a strange sexual fog as Claire fingered my pussy.

"Hold it. You will cum when he pulls the branding iron from the coals. When you can see the white hot iron come to life as it is pulled from the flames."

Merle gently ran his fingers through my hair, "Embrace the pain and let it ignite your new life as a slave, rise like a phoenix from the ashes embracing your slavery."

I moaned in frustration trying not to cum. Claire's fingers were doing a magic dance in my pussy finding my G spot and rubbing distended clitoris. I tried humping her fingers but could no longer move. Another blacksmith pulled a branding iron from the flames and strode away. I could not see where he went but then another girl cried out in pain almost pushing me over the precipit into another frenzy as I watched the steam come off the handle of my branding iron. My branding iron. Mine. I held my climax in, waiting for permission. The agony, the anticipation of the wait was getting to me as Claire diddled my pussy.

Then the steam stopped. The handle was dry and Merle strode over to the forge yanking my branding iron from the flames, wiping pieces of coal off the glowing head. It was alive! It's beauty dancing before my eyes.

"Now, cum for me now!" And I did, spectacularly, the beauty of the glowing badge captivating me as I gazed upon it. Claire increased the intensity of her ministrations in my pussy with a dual pronged approach massaging my G spot and rubbing my happy button. I exploded! Claire quickly removed her fingers and I felt my cheeks pulled apart and the heat emanating off the branding head as I shuddered in orgasmic bliss.

The searing heat initiated pain screamed through every cell in my body unlike anything I had ever felt before. It felt like the burning head was pressed into my sensitive flesh for days while in reality I knew it was only seconds. I felt the breath knocked out of my lungs and heard a shrill moan escape my lips through the bite stick as I tried to chew through it. I felt tears flowing down my cheeks as I peed into the grate below, as my vision blurred.

I had blacked out! In a haze I sensed a tender throbbing, no, a thrusting sensation, in my pussy. Then I felt a cool ointment being spread on my injury dampening the pain, followed by the application of an aerosol bandage. All the while the gentle throbbing in my pussy intensified. The strap around my waist was loosened, freeing me somewhat. There was a presence in my vagina and it felt good, really good. As I came to I was gently humping back, god it felt good. Claire squatted down in front of me removing my gag, wiping my hair out of my eyes. She smiled at me as I stared into those blue eyes. The presence in my pussy popped out as I moaned in disappointment. I recognized the feel of the branding iron handle rubbing between my labia and on my clit. Furiously I humped the handle, desperate for release.

Claire smirked, "That's it. Make love to the branding iron. You got this."

Moaning in delight I humped that handle like there was no tomorrow. God this felt soooo good. Merle pulled it away, plunging it back into my pussy, fucking me with the handle. I fucked it back, hard! Furiously thrusting back into each thrust needing release like a woman possessed, pushing myself into a blissful female nirvana. There I was in the middle of the smithy surrounded by scared slave girls getting badged while my ass throbbed in pain. I screamed in ecstasy as only a pleasure slut can, unfettered by the restraints that constrain a free woman. See me now! A slave! A pleasure slut! I exploded, convulsing all over the handle as Merle slowed the thrusts as he smoothly massaged my throbbing sex while I rode out the rollercoaster of my frenzy until I collapsed on the branding bench gasping for breath. My need sated as Merle gently removed the branding iron from my pussy, putting it back into the forge with my juices glistening from the handle for the next slave girl's badging.

I stared at the steam coming off the handle of my branding iron while the heat from the forge radiated around it. Merle released the straps holding me in place and helped me to my feet while I tried to get my wits about me. While I regained my bearings he proudly pointed out the framed autographed copy of the Sports Illustrated cover with Claire in full USA team ponygirl tack absent the helmet hanging on the wall. She was standing proudly with the gold medal from the London games hanging around her neck. Right next to it was a picture of the Olympic badge burned into Claire right where a tramp stamp would go. Claire had autographed that one too.

Claire led me out of the smithy where there was a holding cage with a bunch of just branded slave girls with shocked expressions on their tear stained faces. Most of them were coated in sand from the auction block. I figured that was where I was headed until Claire grabbed a bottle of water from the table next to the cage and led me into an interview room, closing the door and leaving the slave handler in the hallway. She gave me some water and I drank greedily not realizing how thirsty I was. Then she pulled out a roll of wintergreen Lifesavers and popped two in my mouth. I swear she thinks of everything as I sucked on their minty freshness.

While I enjoyed the Lifesavers she pulled a pronged chastity belt out of her purse along with some lube. After lubing the prongs, she bent me over to insert them.

"Good job there. You made me really proud. Next is getting you out of here and off to Lone Oak. If you can drape yourself onto a branding bench here, Lone Oak will be a piece of cake. Trust me, you got this."

Claire stood me up and sealed the chastity belt in place. With a gentle touch she swiped some hair out of my face, capturing me once again with those magnetic blue eyes. I could drown in those eyes a happy girl. Claire leaned down to kiss me. Almost in a trance I rose up on my toes turning my head, my eyes fluttering closed as she pressed her lips to mine. Every nerve in my body sprang to life, my skin humming with joy. Her mouth was soft as she pressed her lips to mine. I squealed in surprise as my lips were frozen in paradise.

Paradise only lasted a moment before she pulled away, leaving me stunned and shaking, feeling a sudden sense of loss. As I stood there on wobbly legs she held me in her strong arms. Leaning my head against her chest I felt loved and cared for like never before. God, I was in heaven, safe in her strong arms never wanting her to let me go.

"We will get through this together. I will check on you at Lone Oak when I can get away." I was speechless, completely discombobulated in her arms, only able to nod my head in thanks. She kissed me on the forehead one last time making everything all right once again. When she let me go I fell from heaven and into hell when she turned me over to a teenaged slave handler (he had to be at least 18 to work here) named Jed who promptly gagged me and led me away. I had a chance to quickly look over my shoulder back at Claire. There she stood in her skirt suit and cowboy boots, hands on her hips, looking after me. God, she looked hot sending another tingle through my body. Claire blew me a kiss and I stumbled, catching myself focusing on keeping up with the handler as he pulled me around the corner out of sight.

Down the hallway I saw two wranglers pull a naked slave girl that looked like Elle Woods into a room across from a pee grate in the hallway. Jed stopped me at the pee grate allowing me to relieve myself. I snuck a quick look into the room, spying Elle bent over the table facing me. The wranglers were doing rock, paper, scissors for some prize, likely first dibs on her body.

Jed noticed where I was looking and laughed, "Fred and George are legends around here for their double anal bangs during their fifteen minute breaks. They are doing that skank a favor showing her what her new life as a slut will be like. Now squat and pee slave cunt."

I could hear George and Fred's colorful dialogue as I lowered myself over the grate. George was a large blonde-haired man with a crew cut and acne scarred face, forty something with a dad body. Fred was the shorter, stocky bald black man in his mid-thirties whose rock crushed George's scissors meaning he got to go first. I could see Elle grimacing through her gag as Fred lubed her asshole while he talked to her.

"Slut, your ass and my big cock are a match made in slave heaven. I have your wet slave snatch right over the corner of the table so you can grind off on it while I tap your dirtbox. Relax, try to enjoy it and it will go easier for you. Don't matter to me if you cum or try to gnaw through that gag. You have no choice now as a slave but to take it in your winking wagon wheel," Fred sneered.

It was a messy experience peeing through a chastity belt that I never want to repeat again all the while watching Elle. Fred grabbed a handful of Elle's curly blonde hair, pulling her head back while thrusting his hips forward driving his cock into her ass in one forceful thrust. Her eyes bugged out of their sockets as the gag muffled a loud groan. Then she composed herself and started grinding her pussy on the corner of the table. "You go girl," I thought. Jed believed in the "drip dry" method, leaving me squatting over the grate to dry instead of wiping me down so it looked like I would be here for a while.

Since we had time to kill while I "dried" and the Fred and George show was arousing Jed, my pimply-faced eighteen-year-old removed my gag and ordered, "mouth." While sucking him off I learned that Jeb had just started his shift after his days off and had a three-day load saved up. Lucky me. This meant he wouldn't last long, thank God. With his cock in my mouth and my nose in his pubic hair I couldn't watch the action in the other room but I could hear what was happening as serviced his cock.

George was rooting Fred on, "Pound that slut's backdoor. Show her whose boss. Looks like she is trying to grind one off, total slut in slave heat."

"Yeah she is, I can feel it. I love it when they cum while I am banging them in the poop chute."

Jeb decided to prolong his blowjob by pulling his cock from my mouth and rubbing it all over my face while leaking pre-cum. I looked up and he was watching Fred taking Elle's ass. I took a quick look at her. Oh shit, that girl was humping the table like there was no tomorrow with a look of intense concentration on her face. Jeb grabbed his cock and slapped me in the face a few times to get my attention before jamming it back into my mouth as Elle looked on. He had a good hold of my hair and started face fucking me again.

"This bitch's leather cheerio is tight and hot. This butt pirate is going to bury his treasure where the sun doesn't shine after digging deep into this slut's dookie hole. Gonna blow," announced Fred, as he unloaded his baby batter deep in Elle's colon. I heard her moan in disappointment like a total slut as he held his cock in place while he filled her ass with his seed.

"My turn, get out of the way," cried an impatient George. I heard a loud grunt from Elle signaling that George had started in on her ass.

"This skanky cunt has the best tail this month. Try grabbing those big ol' nipples and pulling her back by her teats" laughed Fred.

"Great idea," replied George, a little out of breath as he pounded away while I heard Elle squeal through her gag. Sounded like George had nipplewoods by her titties really good.

"It looks like the slut is getting off on nipple play. Squeeze them harder. Look at her slave heat go."

Elle squealed again as Jeb filled my mouth, overflowing it with his slimy gift since he did not allow me to swallow. Jed gave me something to remember him by when he rubbed his last squirt under my nose giving me a jismstache. At least that was the name he had for it. Boys could be so immature.

"The harder I squeeze 'em the harder she humps the table. Total slut. Fuck, she's cumming and so am I," groaned George.

I could hear Elle's excited squeals through her gag as the sound of George's groin slapping her ass slowed and then came to a stop. Elle always had the reputation for being a kinky bitch and she proved it again just now. Then the little prick Jeb placed the gag back in my mouth, still not allowing me to swallow as a grinning Elle looked on as I blushed in embarrassment. I took a quick look over at Elle one last time and my new sister slave gave me a playful wink in her post orgasmic haze. I returned the wink wondering if we would meet again at the Lone Oak Equestrian Academy.