Katy's Body Pt. 26

Chapter 26: the Dice Slave 1 - Katy's body is branded.

*With thanks to my editor - Chris6160

Author's note

The guidelines for publishing photographic images on this site can be found as follows:

FAQ->Illustrated Works->Illustrated Stories Guidelines

They mean that (a) I can only submit my own photographs and (b) I can describe but not post photos of BDSM abuse, of sexual intercourse or of masturbation.

On the flight back from my 5-day slavery in the Middle East I was still not speaking to my husband. To pass the time I picked up a book that he had given me some time ago: the Dice Man by Luke Rhinehart (aka George Cockcroft). I found it compelling reading. When we returned to the UK relations between my husband and I were so bad that we were effectively living separate lives in the same house. This ruled out both vanilla and BDSM sex between us. As you will know from earlier instalments of my story I am a very sexual person and, although my vibrators stood in, I was badly missing my sex life with him. As for the rest of our relationship the **** could go boil his head as far as I was concerned.

Worse, since I had been his sex slave, he had controlled all the possibilities for adventures with other men. As ever I longed to show off and share my body in some humiliating and probably painful circumstances. I had access to both the email account and adult contact site that my husband had set up for my body's adventures. This meant that I could see the different offers that came through. The problem was simple. It was very important for both my fantasies and for my willingness to fulfil them that I was not in control of my body's adventures. In order to overcome the inhibitions of a strict upbringing I needed to transfer control of my body - for someone else to take responsibility for the actions. In this way I could fulfil fantasies that my upbringing would prohibit.

At this point I remembered the Dice Man: why not let the dice determine my destiny? That was it - I would now be a slave to the whims of the dice. I would choose the options but the dice would determine my specific fate. The prospect was new and exciting. I looked forward to obeying the dictates of the dice. As it happened Claire was invited to our home for a small daytime celebration on my birthday. A larger celebration was planned later at a local restaurant in the evening. We sat around a table drinking gin and tonics. Claire delved into a large shoulder bag and pulled out two presents, wishing me a happy birthday as she passed them to me. The first turned out to be a pocket snake whip.

"I made that for you myself. There were a couple of tutorials on how to make them on YouTube."

I had previous experience with one of these (see part 17). The whip, when curled, is small enough to fit into a pocket but packs a decent sting. I was touched that she had gone to so much effort for me but wondered how far she expected to use it on my body. As I opened the second present I was taken aback. I had seen and experienced a few floggers in my time but this was extraordinary. All of the "tails" were strands of barbed wire. I am typically more tolerant of pain than many masochists, but this had me appalled.

"Don't think for a moment that you or anyone else will be beating my body with that. It would tear my flesh to shreds," I said.

Claire laughed.

"Feel it. It is not real barbed wire. It is fake, made from leather to look like barbed wire."

She was right. I was both amazed and impressed by how realistic it looked. There would be possibilities for its future use in adventures. I looked it up on google and it is even possible to buy rolls of the fake barbed wire made from leather. That had possibilities too. I fancied a slave collar made from fake barbed wire.

I told Claire of my decision to become a dice slave. She was gushing with enthusiasm.

"What a superb idea. I love the thought of your body being abused according to the whims of chance. Let me help you choose the options. Please, please let me be present when your body faces the fate determined by the dice."

"Of course. That would make it even more fun. I would be slave to the dice and you would be the slave overseer responsible for ensuring that my body complies fully with their decision."

"As it is your birthday let's celebrate by getting the dice to determine the next adventure for your body. We can also try out your presents shortly."

If we used a single die my initial idea was that two of the six options would be either to do nothing or an exceptionally soft choice (one that I would probably do anyway). Claire disagreed strongly.

"The point is to determine a new adventure for your body. What kind of adventure is doing nothing? All of your options need to be something that you would not do normally."

We agreed to come with options in three categories - (a) a degree of exhibitionism that I would not normally dare to undertake (b) humiliation and a degree of abuse by a sadist or sadists and (c) extreme (those of my wilder fantasies that I could be forced to conduct).

We had fun discussing the many possible options. The short list for exhibitionism was a daylight naked walk in a public park or similar on a leash, repeating my performance as a naked belly dancer in a bar or being led naked by a pussy leash for an invited audience to fondle freely. Mostly these were Claire's suggestions, but the prospect of exhibitionism and humiliation were, in each case, exciting to me.

For the middle group there were already a number of offers that had come by email. One was a request which had come as a result of my night promoting BDSM sex toys. It was from a specialist supplier of BDSM pins who wanted to arrange a session for sex shop owners to use my body to demonstrate his pins. It was not a form of cruelty I had experienced before and it was not an idea that I found particularly arousing beyond the public humiliation. Most of us have been jabbed by doctors so I did not expect any pain from the pins to be beyond my tolerance. Another request was to use my body for a bukkake party for a group of dirty old men. Not something that I would fantasise about enthusiastically but a deliciously humiliating idea. The final "medium" option was to invite a number of men to my house for an "over the knee" ass spanking dinner party. I quite liked the idea but was a little tempted to combine it with the bukkake option. At Claire's insistence they were kept separate.

The most difficult choices were the extreme options. We adjourned to the garden to enjoy the sun. It required me to reveal my deepest and darkest fantasies to Claire. With the aid of gin and tonics it was a long process but one filled with laughter. I ruled out some my very darkest fantasies. Claire asked me to be nude so that she could visualise each of the possible options being inflicted on my body. I thought that it would help me too, so I was happy to oblige. I found it sexy to look at my body and contemplate different possible forms of cruelty and humiliation. The first option that we chose was for my body to be given to the sadist who had beat it with a huge whip when I was demonstrating a spanking machine for the sex shop. Of all of my tormentors he was by far to most extreme sadist. I somehow liked the idea of defiantly offering my body for his worst excesses, but it would push the limits of my ability to tolerate pain.

A long-standing fantasy of mine, inspired by both the Story of O and the Keith Ranniere trial, was for my body to be branded. I found the idea of permanently marking it as an object for the use of others to be very sexy. The problem was the permanence. What if I wanted to be rid of it? Claire assured me that a small enough brand could be covered by make-up or by a fairly simple procedure in cosmetic surgery. On that basis I finally agreed to be willing to give in to one of my darkest and deepest fantasies (branding) if the dice determined it. I could tell that Claire was particularly keen that the die should choose this one but it was my body that would be taking the pain.

The last of the extreme options was for my body to be given to Claire to use for a day. The day would include some extreme uses - stinging nettles and whipping with a metal chain flogger - but also humiliation by being offered to others to grope.

Whilst my body was naked we (mainly Claire) decided that it would be a good time to try out my birthday presents. I simply stood submissively without restraint for the test beatings. Claire delivered a few strokes of the pocket whip to my thighs and abdomen.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"Good. It packs a powerful sting for such a small whip. Thank you."

The fake barbed wire flogger was a more exciting prospect. The appearance of it was terrifying. Claire had me turn and delivered a few strokes to my ass. There was a definite sting but only slightly worse than a typical leather flogger. Claire noticed one difference. Along the red stripes were small dots where the mark was redder. This must have been where the leather "barbs" struck.

"Claire. Thank you so much for the thoughtful presents."

She embraced me, her hands roaming over my naked body. Suddenly she broke off.

"Back to the decisions of the dice."

She was obviously excited by my idea of my body being a dice slave and keen to help find new adventures for the pain and humiliation of its deserving flesh.

We debated whether to use a single die or two dice. Using two dice is complicated because the probabilities of each number are not the same. There is only one combination which would yield a 2 or a 12 but there are many combinations which would yield, say, a 7. We decided that it was simpler to stick with a single die for now. The following were the agreed outcomes, all equally likely to be chosen by the die:

1 - a daylight naked walk on a collar and leash in a public park

2 - naked belly dance

3 - bukkake night

4 - over the knee spanking dinner party

5 - extreme use by Claire

6 - branding

As we sat at the garden table the excitement mounted for both Claire and myself. What would the die decide for my body? I cupped the die in my hand and rolled it across the table - it was 1. Claire could not hide her disappointment that it was neither 5 nor 6. I must admit that I, too, felt disappointment that it was one of the least extreme options. It was only after the result that I realised I had hoped for more of a challenge for my body.

We agreed that the decision of the die must be obeyed regardless of our disappointment - that was the point of being a dice slave. We would proceed without delays for my nude body to be walked in a public park. In fact, we would do so as quickly as possible in order to move to a second roll of the die. The basic idea was to try again.

We drove to a park in a town some distance away. I was happy to agree for my body to be naked throughout the drive and Claire's hands occasionally roamed over it during the journey. For the short walk from the car to the park itself I threw a coat over my nude body and carried cuffs, collar and leash in a bag. Claire was irritated that I wouldn't walk naked and leashed down the street so we compromised and the coat was left unfastened until we were inside the park.

As soon as we were inside the park the coat disappeared into Claire's backpack. My wrists were cuffed behind me and a collar and leash fitted in no time. As usual my inhibitions would never have allowed me to undertake such a brazen act on my own initiative. The exposure of my naked flesh in such a submissive and humiliating manner was very sexy indeed. Claire was obviously very aroused by it too, probably more than me.

There were plenty of people in the park. Some of them, spotting me from a distance, would avoid embarrassment by simply changing direction. Others simply pretended that there was nothing unusual and simply walked past. A couple of middle-aged women passed, both yelling "slut" at me. One young man stopped to enquire. Claire explained, partly in truth, that it was a result of the roll of a die. He seemed to think it was a dare. She asked what he thought.

"Very sexy. A simply gorgeous body and I like that she is in bondage. Is she your sex slave?"

"Not really but she is under my control for now. Would you like to fondle that body?"

Without further comment he ran his hands up and down my thighs, one after the other. He then moved quickly to slip a finger into my pussy. Noticing its wetness, he fingered it a little longer and then withdrew.

"I am guessing that you won't let me fuck her. If not, I need to stop before I get carried away."

A little later another man took an interest. This time a man much older than me. He, too, was very impressed with my body.

"Is she your slave?"

"Well, in a way, yes," said Claire.

He asked if he might take photographs. Claire moved my body such that I was stood in front of a hedge. She removed the leash so that he could take images of my unobstructed nude body. For me the humiliation was delicious. My body being treated as an object for others was always a sexy experience. Claire offered him the opportunity to fondle my body. My tits were squeezed painfully hard and again my pussy fingered.

Otherwise, the occasion was sexily humiliating and certainly pandered to my exhibitionist tendencies. But I had been so excited at becoming a dice slave that I wanted my first dice adventure to be much more extreme. We agreed that a lesson had been learned. In future the options would need to be much more of a challenge for my body. It deserved not only humiliation but cruelty too. Luckily the second roll of the die would offer a much better prospect and we hurried home so that we might proceed immediately.

As before Claire insisted on my body being naked as we sat in my garden. We decided to mix the options up a little, including those possible options that did not make the first list. The second list was:

1 - being taken for group groping on a pussy leash

2 - demonstration of BDSM pin play

3 - over the knee hand spanking dinner party

4 - given to the extreme sadist to abuse

5 - extreme use by Claire

6 - branding

You may notice that there was one fewer of the non-extreme options and one more of the extreme ones. This reflected our disappointment with the first dice decision. As the amount of alcohol I had consumed increased I was hoping that the die would choose my body to be branded - the option that I most wanted but also most feared. Again, there was a tense, expectant moment when I cupped the die in my hands. It rolled across the table for what seemed too long a time. Finally, it stopped - it was a six! My body would be branded. Claire whooped with delight. That another one of my long unsatisfied fantasies would be realised was very sexy for me but the thought that my body would be marked as an object to be owned - was much, much sexier.

Claire made me stand so that we could choose the best spot for branding on my nude body. I insisted that the brand be small so that, if necessary, it would be easy to cover. We agreed that it should be in a spot that could be covered with a bikini or a thong if needed. Just above my vulva and slightly to the left of my right hip looked good to both of us. Claire was keener on branding my ass but I wanted to be able to see the mark of ownership more easily in the mirror. We agreed that, if the occasion arose again, any second brand would be to my ass.

It was surprisingly complex to implement the decision of the die. Claire and I spent several hours on internet research. A couple of options were quickly ruled out. Cold branding involves only minimal pain but, when applied to humans, can only produce imprecise red marks. Both Claire and I were quick to exclude it. Claire wanted my body to take the pain anyway as, I think, did I. Anyway, vague red marks were not what was needed. Hot branding it would be. One version of hot branding, the one used in the Keith Ranniere case, was for someone to basically doodle on my body using a cauterising pen. This would also produce amateurish results and would take too long. No matter how willing I was for my body to take the pain it would be difficult to keep it still enough for more than a short, sharp burn.

The advice that we received was to avoid tattoo and piercing outlets and use a reputable professional brander. These were expensive and hard to find but, apparently, the best choice. Such experts would ensure a sterile process and provide first aid if needed. They would use only stainless-steel custom-made electrical branding irons set to exactly the right temperature. I had always assumed branding to be permanent but, apparently, a professional could produce a surface brand which would fade after a period of up to one year. According to the website these temporary brands were much favoured by extreme masochists. This was because, perversely, a temporary surface brand was more painful than a permanent one.

The only reason why I had not submitted to branding before was my concern about its permanence, A surface brand looked the same as a permanent one until it faded so it was an obvious choice for me. Claire disagreed strongly. This was not due to her concern about the extra pain of a surface brand. She wanted my body to be permanently marked as property, my flesh to be permanently enslaved. In the end we reached a compromise. This time it would be a surface (temporary) brand but I committed to reconsider submitting my body for a permanent one later.

I was unusually aroused and elated because one of my longest standing fantasies would be fulfilled. I could see in my mind the mark of ownership on my flesh - a visible statement that my body was available to be owned by sadists for their cruel [pleasures. The sadistic side of Claire's switch sexuality was equalled thrilled.

"I am so excited by your idea of becoming a dice slave and cannot wait to watch your body being branded. Please let me pay for the professional brander as a treat for your birthday."

She could not resist running her hands over my naked flesh, imagining its suffering from the branding iron. There were many more details to attend to. The branding was never going to be anything short of a special occasion so there should be an invited audience to share and enjoy the marking of my body as a slave. It should also be recorded on video for a wider audience and, more importantly, for me to be able to actually see the branding afterwards.

If there was to be an audience present what else should be done to celebrate the event? The branding itself would take a very short time. Preparations for it would still not be enough to make a decent evening of entertainment for randy sadists. It was summer and there would be good light until at least 9 pm. Claire's idea was to hold the whole event in my garden. She produced a plan for the evening and a guest list. I was a little surprised by the inclusion of my husband but, since he shared the same house, it might have been difficult to exclude him.

Two days later Claire spoke to me by telephone. She had found a suitable professional brander, one of the best apparently. He had agreed to order a suitable branding iron. An electric one was needed to ensure that it was at exactly the right temperature for a surface brand. Only stainless steel would be used, He would take care of having it made but needed our design. We had discussed the design previously. A standard design was a heart in outline and we chose one of the smaller ones, a little under 2 inches (4 cm) at it widest. Inside the outline of a heart we requested the word "slave" in lower case letters, towards the top. The brander was used to working indoors and in private but he was willing to work outdoors and in front of an audience for us. He would have everything ready within 3 days. Claire sent out the invitations digitally.