Rachel's Retrospect

The two Doms wrapped my ankles and wrists with the rope five times, then tied the other ends to each of the table legs. I was bound so tightly I could not move.

Each of the Doms then stood on either side of the table, and with obvious experience bound each of my breasts with rope. I was almost proud of the fact that I remained silent through this painful process. The only thing evident of my pain was my labored breathing, which swelled my breasts up even more.

One of the Dommes now approached the table, and secured a small leather ballgag in my mouth. I watched as the other Domme took a small cotton swab soaked with alcohol and dabbed it on each of my swelled, erect nipples, my navel, and all through my vagina. It was then that I started to understand what Mistress had meant by “marking” me.

Master now stood on one side of me, one of the Doms next to him. Master held in his hands a small metal forcep instrument, with very small holes in each tip. The Dom next to him held a gold hoop ring, about one-inch in diameter.

Master placed the forceps over my left nipple and grasped it gently within the tong ends. He then began to squeeze them harder together, elongating my nipple in a way that now had become less painful to me from similar treatment.

The Dom then bent over me and slid one end of the opening of the gold ring into the hole of the forceps. As he began pushing the sharp edge of the ring into my nipple, I felt such incredible pain I screamed against the ballgag. Slowly he pushed the metal ring through my nipple, my body uncontrollably struggling, tears filling my eyes. The Dommes now were holding me down by the waist and hips to keep my torso still as the Dom completed the procedure. Master still squeezed the forceps tightly, staring down at the work the Dom was doing. Mistress stood slightly behind him and to the side, silently smoking a cigarette.

After the Dom pushed the ring all the way through my nipple, one of the Domme swabbed the blood from the area with alcohol. Master then released the forceps from my nipples and placed the tong end around the ring itself, squeezing it securely closed.

This procedure was then performed on my other nipple, the pain just as intense. Mistress wiped the perspiration from my face with a soft cloth, and then grazed her fingernails lightly over my cheek in her special way of showing care for me. It helped calm me a bit to know she was there.

Once my nipples had been pierced and adorned with the small gold hoop rings, my breasts were unbound from the ropes. My entire chest ached with great pain, my nipples almost numb from the abuse they’d endured.

Master and the Dom moved down to stand next to my waist. Master gripped the lower part of my navel between the forceps, and pulled the skin upward. Again the silent Dom forced a small gold hoop through the forceps and through the skin. This procedure was far quicker, as the skin was much thinner. I was able to endure it without much more than a staggered gasp as the ring pierced the skin and as it exited. Master squeezed the ring together to secure it and the act was done.

The final act of marking me was to pierce each of my vagina folds with small gold rings. The procedure was the same as the previous ones. The pain was not as intense, but the act of piercing me so close to my clitoris caused me to grow wet as Master and the Dom worked on me. One of the Dommes frequently wiped the uncontrollable cum and blood from the area as the men worked. I tried not to struggle, but my whole body jolted as the Dom pushed the hoop through the sensitive skin Master held gripped and pulled upward between the tong tips.

When they finally were finished piercing me, I was exhausted. I laid there bound to the table, eyes closed and still breathing heavily, my whole body aching. I could feel my nipples swelling up twice their size; likewise the lips of my vagina.

Silently, the Doms and Dommes left the room with Mistress. I could hear them speaking in the other room, but could not make out their words. Master stayed behind with me and cleaned the equipment they had used on me with an alcohol-soaked cloth.

Once he had finished, Master then turned to me and gazed down at my body, examining with steely dark eyes the piercings he’d placed on me. He removed the ballgag from my mouth, allowing me to breathe more freely. I took in a few deep breaths, each causing a searing pain through my breasts.

They left me in the diningroom alone for what seemed like hours, as Master and Mistress talked with their guests. I think I passed out for a few minutes occasionally from the pain.

What finally woke me was Mistress’ and Master’s presence. They untied the ropes that bound my wrists and ankles, and allowed me to sit up. I was dizzy at first, but quickly found my composure with a sip of wine Mistress put to my dry lips.

Master replaced the leather wrist and ankle cuffs, and cuffed my hands together with a chain attached to the ring in my collar. He did not shackle my ankles, and Mistress led me back to the dungeon where I was placed in my cell and allowed the freedom of only being chained to the wall by my collar leash. Master allowed my hands and feet to be free. As Master and Mistress left me in my cell, I carefully laid down on the cot and passed out from the pain searing through my abused, bruised body.

Master and Mistress did not wait but a few days after my Marking to use me again as their sex slave. I was not completely healed, but it did not matter to them. It was far more painful for me, and that was the point. Bound nude to the main bed, I could look up into the mirror and see the gold rings adorning my breasts, my navel and my vagina. I actually started to like the way they looked. They were symbols of my sexual enslavement, to be used by my Master and Mistress for their sexual pleasure with me. It was a strangely comforting feeling.

Thinking back on all of this now, how I came to be what I now am, I cannot imagine any other way of life. Maybe I was always meant to be jane; maybe I was forced into it and have just accepted it because I have no other choice but to. All I know for certain is that I am content and fulfilled serving my Master and Mistress, so I guess it doesn’t really matter. What will happen to me and where it might end I don’t know; I don’t think about it. I take my life moment by moment. Just as any good sex slave should.

-Submitted in thoughtful retrospect by sex slave jane.