~Subject: HORSEWOMEN # 6/A&B
~From: an438434@anon.penet.fi (Umbra)
~Date: Sat, 30 Dec 1995 07:44:02 UTC
~Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage,alt.sex.femdom

   THE HORSEWOMEN a Love Story by Jeanne de Stein

   6.  BODY DECORATION

   Ariti was very busy.  The rings had been a great hit with the women of
the other sisterhoods, and many of them had ordered the genuine article,
made by her.  Women arrived on horseback to fetch them and to pay in shells
or even with a horse.  So Aryana had to wait for some time before her new
slave Ippou could be fitted out properly, and with the extras that the girl
had dreamt up.  But when Ariti could give her attention to him, Atossa
brought Fallou to watch the show.

   A leather sheet had been spread on the ground; on it was Ippou on his
back, tied down to the customary four stakes, and he was clearly very
scared.  Aryana was already busy with him.  She was on top of him, kissing
and pinching, and he was obviously not immune to the treatment.  Slowly,
his flaccid member rose and became a nice erection, which all the women
present---Ariti and Atossa and Sarissa and Lykomaki, and soon Silini and
Ginesse too and even little Niki, ever greedy for pain games, and of course
Aryana herself---commented on favourably.  Aryana did not seem to want to
use it, however.  She just sat astride him, rubbing her leather-clad crotch
against his sex, massaging his nipples in preparation for the bloodletting.
His eyes never left her face.  He had been given more time to get
acquainted to his owner before the piercing than Atossa's slave had got:
did this mean that he was less or more afraid of her than Fallou had been
of his captors?  It was impossible to tell.  It was obvious, however, that
Ippou was fascinated with Aryana, who had of course a superb body and who
was also the only woman of the Sisterhood who a male unaccustomed to
horsewomen and their appearance and their peculiar allures would have found
beautiful.

   Now she was sitting very erect with his stiff, purplish penis in his
hands.  Ariti approached, holding two skewers.  Ippou glanced at them,
horrified; but surely he could not have been ignorant of what awaited him?
Ariti smiled at him and sat down opposite Aryana and facing her, two large
muscular thighs gripping the slave's head.  He certainly had a view---the
young Aryana and the rough but attractive blacksmith were both busy with
him now---but it was an open question whether he enjoyed it as he should
have done.  He looked at Aryana with mute appeal painted in his face, but
she just gave him a savage animal grin.  She was enjoying herself hugely.

   And then Ariti leant over him, casting her shadow over him, and took a
little plier from her girdle.  For a short but horrible moment, Fallou
remembered what Ariti had done to the captive at the stake.  But mutilation
was not on the agenda, of course.  She had put one of the skewers in her
mouth in order to get one hand free for the plier.  With it, she took a
firm grip on Ippou's left nipple and pulled it violently outward.  His face
was contorted with pain and fear, but he was still silent.  With her other
hand, Ariti put the point of her skewer to the base of the nipple where it
joined the aureole, and pushed.

   A spasm ran through Ippou's body.  The sound that he made was a grunt
that was also a gasp but not quite a scream; and he came, and a jet of
sperm spurted from his rod, between Aryana's palms, landing between her
breasts.  She cried out angrily; and the boy went limp with a sob while a
white little stream ran down his owner's belly and a trickle of red blood
found its way across his chest.  His sobbing continued while Ariti took the
other skewer from her mouth, moving the plier to her other hand.  But when
she repeated the procedure with his right nipple, he screamed in what all
the women deemed was a very satisfactory fashion.  And then Aryana leant
over him and slapped his face twice, once on each cheek, before getting to
her feet and leaving them in order to wash herself.

   Fallou recalled his own orgasm when he had been pierced.  But that time,
he had been ridden by Sarissa, and he had come inside her.  So he had not
reflected much on it.  But this young fellow, who seemed normal enough and
was freshly captured, had climaxed without benefit of a female
sex---seemingly from pain alone.  Was that possible?  Would he too lose
control of himself if he was suitably excited and then given violent pain
in precisely the right place?  Was this a property of the male sex in
general?  And what about women ...  Oh well, being hung from a gallows and
whipped until the tattoos scarcely hid the stripes did not work, obviously.

   He had observed the proceedings so intently that he did not notice until
now that Atossa, who was sitting behind him with her arms around him, was
pinching his own nipples and that he had an erection of his own.  She was
breathing heavily.  She leant forward and whispered in his ear that she
wanted to use him, but that the show was not over yet.  And then she moved
her hands to his sex.  Oh my, he was really excited; did he remember what
she and Sarissa had done to him once, that night in the windbreak far out
in the grasslands?  Yes, this was perhaps why he was having this hard-on.
--Would she use the ring when riding him, please?  He heard her chuckle.

   Aryana returned.  Ariti had wiped most of the come off Ippou's swollen
but soft penis and fetched a new skewer.  While Aryana looked on excitedly,
she pierced the skin-fold on the underside of the slave's member,
immediately below the gland, just where the pain-ring hurt the most.  But
the boy did not scream this time, he just made a miserable little sound. 
The onlookers were delighted, however.  And then Ariti finished the
piercing by pushing a curved skewer through a pinched fold of skin beneath
the boy's testicle-bag.  She leant forward, kissed him fondly and told him
that he had been a good horse after all and that his owner would surely
forgive his misdemeanour.  Maybe he understood what she said, or at least
that she wished him well.  By the way, could she have the use of him now
and then when the wounds had healed and all the hardware was in place? 
Aryana complimented her on the job, and she would be happy to oblige her.

   And on this pleasant note ended the piercing session, and Atossa dragged
Fallou away to her tent with unseemly haste and mounted him, telling him in
a very friendly fashion that she would like to give him horrible pain in
the future, because she loved him.  And Sarissa hissed, what about me? 
what about me?  until Atossa laughed and promised that she would make love
to her too, but she simply had to rest for a while!

   Hakki was the Sisterhood's tattoo artist.  She was a good-looking
woman---she was Aryana's mother, after all---but this specialty was her
claim to distinction.  Now she was attending to the decoration of Ginesse's
skin, so essential to the girl's standing as a full horsewoman.  Several
women were there to witness the procedure, and the subject's comportment
during it, and Timesse, her mother, presided over them.  And just as during
the passage-rite, the slaves were present in order to learn about the
courage of a horsewoman.

   Ginesse rested on a leather sheet, seemingly completely relaxed, her
head on Silini's lap.  Hakki laid out the design in vegetable dye with a
small brush.  It would soon fade away, of course, being a guide only to the
permanent tattoos, and Hakki painted no more than she could cover in a
week's work or so.  Then she brought out her gear, needles with handles and
larger multi-pointed tools for lines and fills.  Crouching over her living
canvas, she set to work.

   Ginesse was silent, as befitted a horsewoman.  Her hands, open, rested
at her sides, her legs were slightly parted.  Only the thin lines between
her eyebrows and at the corners of her mouth spoke of the pain she was
experiencing.  It was certainly less acute than under the whip, but it was
more drawn-out.  When Hakki felt that the left breast was too inflamed and
red for further work, she moved over to the right one, and then to the
belly and the mound, which had been shaved for the occasion.  By now,
Fallou knew from his own experience that these women were tattooed even on
their outer labia; he hoped that he would be present to see this done too.

   Ginesse did not get a rest until Hakki needed one.  Then the woman
stroked the girl's cheek, smiled at her and assured her that she
appreciated her good behaviour, which would surely increase her reputation.
And Silini leant forward and kissed her.  After a meal and a short pause,
the treatment continued.  Would Ginesse like a really good nipple job?  She
would indeed.  Silini smiled proudly: Ginesse was her girl.

   These sessions were repeated, day after day, while ever-new square
inches of Ginesse's smooth skin were covered by the expanding design. 
Shoulders and buttocks, brow and cheeks, thighs and belly blossomed with
the time-honoured patterns and symbols that designated the girl a member of
this tribe, this sisterhood and this moeity.  Slowly their totem animals
took shape on her cruelly maltreated hide, branding her with her identity,
her duties and her rights as clearly and permanently as with a red hot
iron. And Ginesse endured it, even when the holy signs that guaranteed her
future fertility and the perpetuation of her lineage were drawn with the
needle, first on the insides of her thighs and then on her very sex. 
Silini sat patiently with Ginesse's head on her lap or between her thighs,
watching over her and giving her strength.  Day after day, week after week,
Ginesse suffered the sting of the needles and the slow ache without a
murmur.

   Ippou wore first the skewers, then the customary studs for nearly twenty
days before returning for a new session with Ariti.  This was not to be a
particularly painful one, but he looked pale and nervous nevertheless. 
Perhaps Aryana had managed to tell him what awaited him, in spite of the
language barrier.  This time too, Atossa had brought Fallou to the show.

   A large collection of ironmongery was laid out in front of the portable
forge.  Niki, always eager for cruelty, was working the bellows.  The first
item was an iron collar.  It was a light one, and mercifully covered with
leather, but still a cruel thing to wear.  There seemed to be an
articulation somewhere under the leather; Ariti opened the collar, adjusted
it and locked it permanently with a red-hot rivet which she carefully
hammered flat on the anvil while the boy knelt before it, as in prayer.  A
chain hung down from the collar, ending with a large ring that swung in the
vicinity of Ippou's pubic bone.

   The nipple rings were quite ordinary, except that they were joined by a
chain.  Ippou submitted to the chaining meekly, glancing only occasionally
at the hardware.  Instead his eyes were glued to Ariti when she was busy
with him, and to Aryana in between.  His owner stood by the forge, smiling
benignly at him while repeatedly drawing the lash of a long horsewhip
between her fingers.

   Now he had to lie down on his back.  Ariti examined his sex carefully,
then she grunted approvingly.  He was ready.  He had in fact a
half-erection that revealed that the treatment he was undergoing had its
exciting side.  Ariti began by pushing a ring through the hole made on the
underside of his testicle-bag and then riveting the ring shut.  Ippou's
penis was now very large and just as stiff as when Aryana had been holding
it before the piercing.  Ariti stood up, straightening her back and
stretching like a cat, her arms high above her head.  She smiled first at
Aryana, then at Ippou, telling him that he was a good slave and that it was
a pleasure to work on him.  Then she knelt by his side again.

   Through the hole in his penis she threaded a ring, the same size as the
ones she had put in place already.  But a foot-long chain dangled from it,
ending in another ring.  Atossa grew excited and squeezed Fallou's member.
He too was fascinated.  What would it be like to wear such a brutal chain
while you were being used?  Ariti finished the job with the customary
rivet.

   Then Aryana too knelt, and she wrapped strips of pelt around her slave's
ankles, tying each one in place with leather laces.  Ariti followed them
with leg-irons.  One of them, the left one, was trailing a chain, about
one-and-a half foot in length, the other had just a ring.

   Aryana thanked Ariti profusely, promising her the use of Ippou whenever
she wanted.  Then she turned the boy over on his face and tied his elbows
together.  This done, she rolled him over on his back again.  Ariti handled
her a padlock, the size of a small child's fist.

   Padlocks were expensive things of course, made by clever locksmiths in
the towns along the coast and traded against horses or even more valuable
things, such as slaves.  The horsewomen used them for locking the coffers
with their most precious belongings.  Aryana bent down, threaded the yoke
of the lock first through the bag ring and then through the penis-ring
before locking it shut.  The boy's member had softened a little while his
legs were being chained, but she still had some difficulty in bending it.
With a second lock, she secured the loose end of the ankle-chain to the
other leg-iron, hobbling her slave.  The keys were on a soft leather strap
which she hung around her neck, and now they dangled between her conical
girlish breasts like a strange ornament.  She stepped back and enjoyed the
effect; then she turned to Ariti, embracing her.  The smith returned the
embrace and they kissed.  Might they not use Ippou together, asked Aryana,
enjoying him in each other's company?  Ariti agreed.  She told Niki to
quench the fire of the forge, and then the two women walked their man-horse
to Ariti's tent, Aryana holding his neck-chain and Ariti the penis chain.

   Atossa took her own slave by his arm and led him home.  She did not use
his member, but she put him between her thighs, ordering him to kiss her
sex slowly and to cease licking immediately when she told him that she was
too close to an orgasm.  While he ran his tongue lovingly between her
labia, she told him how much she had liked what Aryana and Ariti had done
to the boy.  She would not be able to chain Fallou's penis of course, that
would have made the use of the pain-ring impossible, but she had other
plans for him, and he would look very handsome in the irons she was going
to make him wear.

   Ginesse's intermittent agony continued for nearly two months.  When it
was over, she showed off her marks of womanhood to her sisters with fierce
pride.  Even the slaves were required to admire the work, which they
willingly did.  Ginesse was especially anxious that Fallou should
scrutinize and appreciate the beauty and the magic of her tattoos, and
though he was definitely more interested in the girl than in her
decoration, he obliged her willingly.  Look, were not her nipples splendid?
He must touch them---he would not see them properly unless he did.  And he
did touch them, and more, and she disengaged with obvious regret.

   Silini was standing close to them.  Now she produced the ring from her
girdle, and she nodded confirmation; Atossa had consented to let them have
him again.  This time they did not go to the tent, but outside the
encampment, to a place where green grass grew in a little hollow in the
ground.  Only a few grazing horses were near.

   Silini spoke earnestly to him.  Would he lie down on his back and let
Ginesse use him, without being tied down?  Would he good and obedient and
helpful?  He assured her that he was often used in this fashion by Atossa
nowadays, and that it would be a pleasure to be used by Ginesse, just as
pleasant as it had been to serve Silini.  And the ring?  Never mind the
ring, he was used to it and would take it in his stride.

   Very good, said Silini: this was to be Ginesse's first attempt to take a
slave inside herself, and if he did his best for her, they would think well
of him and commend him to Atossa.

   He could scarcely believe what he heard.  Virgins were hard to come by
in the grasslands, and had been a rarity in En-Tor's household too---they
did not stay that way very long.  Even before their initiation, most girls
of the Sisterhood had used males, more or less surreptitiously.  He looked
at Ginesse and thought that he could discern a blush, or was it the evening
sun?  He reassured her.  She could do as she pleased with him, and he would
do his best to help her.

   He laid himself to rest on his back.  Ginesse knelt by his side and
investigated him with her fingers.  The nipple-rings were interesting.  Her
hands continued on, down to his sex; he breathed deeply and tried to
contain the shivers that ran through him when Ginesse's soft fingertips
travelled along his flanks.  She acquainted herself thoroughly with his
balls and then with his penis, and she giggled, half with delight and half
with fear, when she felt it rise under her touch.  She asked Silini if it
really did not hurt when this thing entered one's body for the first time?
Well, said the older girl, some women said it did, others that it did not.
Anyway, it was the necessary prelude to the following delights, and she
could vouch for the suitability of this particular specimen.  Ginesse
laughed and rubbed her crotch against the male's thigh and then she sat
down on him.  She took his wrists and raised his hands to her breasts, and
he cupped them in his palms and tickled her nipples, setting her barbaric
patterns in motion; she drew her breath sharply.  He made her lean over him
and he kissed first the right nipple, then the left one.  She took his
nipple-rings and tugged at them.  Was that nice?  More?  He begged her to
stop it, it was dangerously exciting.

   Silini handed her the pain-ring.  Ginesse slipped it over the tip of his
penis, pinched and pulled.  She glanced at him and saw him grimace.  Wasn't
it pleasant?  He told her that it was, and he was dead serious.  He was now
very excited; surely Ginesse would devour him now.

   Instead, Silini gave her a small leather scourge, seven thongs attached
to a carved handle.  She grabbed Fallou's wrists and pulled them up above
his head.  She told him not to struggle while Ginesse enjoyed herself. 
Ginesse gave him six lashes, alternately across the right and the left side
of his chest, clearly aiming at his nipples.  He felt the sting of the
leather and gasped, but he did not try to dodge the lashes.  Ginesse
squeezed his penis encouragingly, dealt him six more lashes that landed on
his belly, and then she rose, standing on her knees straddling him.  She
gave his sex a hard caress, raised her right arm and slowly and
deliberately, she whipped his member.

   He grunted.  That hurt; but he did not try to evade the scourge or even
protect himself.  The girl would surely not harm the property of another
woman.  One, two, three.  He felt his face contort.  Four, five, six.

   And then Ginesse threw the scourge aside and fell over him, squealing
with delight, kissing and pinching and scratching.  It was lovely, lovely.
Silini had been quite right, whipping a male was wonderful.  And then she
sat up, took his member in both hands, put its tip to the entrance of her
vagina and lowered herself carefully, eating it with her sex.

   She was tight.  Now it was her turn to groan, but she persisted.  When
the gland was inside her and she continued on her way down to a full
sitting position, grimacing-- she too was obviously feeling pain---the skin
of his penis was pulled along ruthlessly, and he felt the points of the
ring dig into his tender membranes and he whimpered.  That pleased her. 
She continued but had to stop while one full inch of his rod was still
outside her.  She wriggled and started to ride him.  The pain increased.

   Please, could he have her breasts?  Silini frowned, but Ginesse did not
find the request impertinent.  He took both nipples between thumbs and
forefingers, gently twisting and pulling them.  The girl leant over him and
thrust her breasts at him: he took one in his mouth without releasing his
grip on the other.  Ginesse gave a gurgling cry and mauled his sex
savagely, and herself too in the process.  She came, and fell over him
while he too came and pumped his come into her, unable to contain himself
any longer.

   She rested on top of him, panting.  When she had regained her breath,
she asked Silini if she thought that Timesse would buy her a male of her
own?  Silini laughed.  Timesse was too stingy even to get one for herself.
She thought however that Hikati would give her a slave next year, not to be
bested by Hakki, and then they would share him between them, just as Atossa
and Sarissa shared this one.  But until then, she would have to make do
with a borrowed male now and then.  Perhaps Aryana would let them have the
use of Ippou.  The sight of him, in all those chains, was really very
exciting.  And by the way, what was wrong with making love with girls, and
especially with Silini, daughter of Hikati?

   They sent him down to the brook to wash himself.  Then he must return to
them.  He obeyed.  After the ablution, he walked back to the little hollow,
still wearing the ring on his now flaccid and hanging member.  The girls
were holding each other when he returned, but they separated and ordered
him down between them.  Did he think that he might be able to give a repeat
performance after a while?  If he was given some help, perhaps?  He told
them that it just might be possible, and Silini patted his cheek.

   Holding his sex in her hand, she rested close to him, talking.  She
spoke of his courage under the whip.  Had it helped to have seen Ginesse
being whipped too?  She, Silini, had found it very thrilling to give the
girl she loved so many lashes.  It had made her quite wet ...  Yes, he had
admired Ginesse, but he had mostly thought of Atossa.  Silini nodded
gravely, yes, it was proper to think of your owner, and she would be the
most natural person to think of too, considering the circumstances.  Had
Atossa also been excited?

   He did not know.  Well, she would ask her.  She thought that it would be
a fine thing to string him up and give him forty lashes.  Would he restrain
himself as well as that time, before breaking into screaming?  He did not
think so, he had been so eager to prove his valour and worth in Atossa's
eyes.  No, he would scream willingly for Silini.  She bent over him and
kissed his cheek.  She suspected that he was on his way to a new hard-on.
She would read a dependable incantation over the thing.  She was good at
that sort of thing, well versed in witchcraft.

   Besides being the chiefess, her mother Hikati was also the witch of this
sisterhood, two functions that often went together.  As usual, her daughter
was following in her footsteps.  Chiefesses---gynarkae---were elected, but
witchery was a gift that was usually inherited, though it might
occasionally be found in someone who was not of a witch-lineage.  In a way,
Hikati's older daughter Ariti had also inherited the gift, for there was
magic in the smith's craft too.  Silini had been apprenticed to her mother,
and she intimated that she was already well advanced in the art and that
she had actually already spoken with powerful spirits.  She was not afraid
of spirits---well, not much!

   As well as he could, he told her of his admiration of her and of
Ginesse. She looked at him in a quizzical fashion and pointed out that the
opinion of a slave was seldom sought.  But she liked him, and it was good
that he liked her---it might help to get him going again!  Spells usually
did not work unless you made an effort yourself.  Anyway, whatever it was,
it was working.

   She came down beside him and started working on him.  She also wanted
him to caress and kiss her.  They nuzzled each other's necks and ears and
cheeks; and he found her mouth and ran his tongue along her lips, and she
accepted it and opened her mouth and they kissed, tongues playing hide and
seek in each other's mouths.  With Atossa, this was a rare treat, an
unusual game with dangerous overtones of equality between the sexes, and he
enjoyed it hugely while it lasted, which was not long.  Silini took a firm
grip on his ears and set him to work on her breasts.  Someone
else---Ginesse, of course---was squeezing his penis, her hand between his
thighs, and he was feeling the pain of the ring again.  Obviously, he was
having a new hard-on.  Silini rolled over on her back; she pushed him down,
thrusting his head in between her thighs, and he licked and tongued her
willingly, while Ginesse, working from a position behind him, continued her
good works.  The closeness of the panting and lubricating Silini, and the
help from Ginesse who had already given him such pain and such pleasure,
combined to make him randy again, in a less hot and impetuous but more
determined way than he had been when Ginesse rode him.

   Silini took him by his hair and dragged him up on top of her.  She got a
hand in under him, grasped his member and guided it to its target.  He was
amazed---was he actually supposed to use her, not the other way around? 
But Silini told him, between her gasps of pleasure, that he must keep
working, whatever happened to him; and what was going to happen to him was
something that Atossa had given her consent to in advance.  He looked over
his shoulder and saw Ginesse standing over him, and she had unwound the
whip from her waist and she was making ready to use it on him.

   The following experience was most curious.  Silini was squirming,
crawling, jerking away under him, panting, scratching his back, screaming,
hurling at him a mixture of obscenities and blood-curdling threats (or were
they promises?) while Ginesse whipped his buttocks in perfect time with his
thrusting hips.  He screamed back at Silini, but wordlessly, only to
express the hurt he felt.  At first, the whip bit him terribly, then the
acute pain changed gradually into a dull ache.  Because of his previous
orgasm, he was slow to come.  Indeed, he felt that he would continue
thrusting for ever and that the whipping and the torture of the infernal
ring would never end.  Silini, however, arched her body and cried out
already after six or eight lashes; and still she told him, and Ginesse, to
continue.  Not until she had climaxed for a second time did she take pity
on him.  She made him lift his shoulders and chest off her, supporting
himself on his elbows, so that she could reach his nipples.  She gripped
the rings, pulling and twisting, and at last he came, pumping what was left
of his come into her, while Ginesse loyally continued her work behind him.
He screamed and fell over Silini, who put her arms around his neck and
switched instantly from threats to endearments.

   Ginesse too threw herself down beside them and caressed the buttocks she
had flagellated so thoroughly.  The two girls were enthusiastic about his
performance, his willingness and his obedience.  Silini would tell Atossa
how good he had been.  They were as tender and protective as they had been
cruel just a moment earlier.  How absurd, thought Fallou---but only for a
moment.  Just now, it was simply too good.  Better not scrutinize the gift
horse too thoroughly.

   He was allowed to stay on top of Silini until his wet and limp member
slipped out of her of its own accord.  The girls went down to the brook to
wash themselves, and to watch him do the same.

   Then they walked him back to Atossa's tent.  And his right owner looked
at his striped rump and laughed, and that night she too showed him great
tenderness, but in a way that he could only describe as motherly, or even
sisterly.  She made no demands on him, but permitted him to sleep by her
side when he had told her all that the two girls had done to him.  And
Sarissa joined them, so that he woke up between his two mistresses the next
morning.

   HORSEWOMEN # 6/b ===========================================

   A few days later, they took him to Ariti again.  There was a tingling
feeling of anticipation inside him, mostly between his legs: he was very
fond of her and she had always treated him well when she had him on loan
from Atossa.  But he was also a little bit scared.  Whenever Atossa and
Sarissa and the smith cooked something up, a male had to pay for it---he.

   They made him kneel by the anvil.  He was relieved to find that there
was to be no piercing this time.  But suspiciouslooking objects were
heating up in the forge, which was tended by Sarissa; for once, Niki was
absent from the show.

   First on was a collar, similar to that worn already by Ippou, but with a
chain that was somewhat shorter.  He was very obedient and still while
Ariti fitted the collar to his neck and hammered the hot rivet flat.  Then
he was told to rise.

   Close by the forge an old tree trunk rested on the ground, propped up at
both ends by stones that kept it a few inches above it.  The three women
grabbed him and pushed him down on his back on top of it and along it. 
Atossa and Sarissa held him while Ariti tied him to the log with rawhide
ropes, around and around, very tightly, until he could not move a muscle.
This was when he began to suspect that all would not be a bed of roses.

   A soaking wet stripe of coarse cloth was wound around the base of his
testicle-bag.  Sarissa fetched a large hammer and pushed it up his crotch,
hard against his perineum, supporting it against the log.  Now Ariti
produced an incandescent stripe of iron from the forge, and, manipulating
it with two tongs, she dexterously fitted it around the wet cloth and
hammer-welded it shut while water sizzled and small wisps of steam rose. 
There was a smell of burnt wool.  Then she nodded, and Atossa threw a small
bucket of water over the slave's sex, and there was more hissing and more
steam.  The women stood up and looked pleased.  Then Ariti removed the
protective wrapping and he felt the metal directly against his scrotum,
still hot but not enough to sear him.  Sarissa and Atossa were fondling and
kissing each other excitedly, but Ariti stood close by him, looking at him.
She smiled at him and told him that he was very handsome.  Please, girls,
could she borrow him already this evening?  Atossa looked at Sarissa, who
laughed aloud, and said, of course, provided that he was fit to be used
after what they were going to do to him.

   And then they proceeded to do it.  Ariti bent over the forge and took
something that had been buried among the coals so that only a handle had
been visible.  It was a small branding iron.  Atossa appeared, a small tong
in her hand.  With it, she gripped the skin at the tip of his penis and
pulled.  Horrified, he understood at last what was to happen to him, and he
cried out, incoherently but eloquently.  The women found this very funny.
And Ariti pressed the iron against his member, counting aloud while she
held it down, loud enough to be heard above his screaming, and when she
lifted it, he bore the indelible brand of the Sisterhood on the part of him
that the Sisters found the most delightful.

   His lungs were empty and he was only able to hiccup disconsolately while
tears streamed down his cheeks.  They were in no hurry to release him,
which was perhaps just as well.  He also got until sundown to recuperate;
Atossa demanded no work from him but allowed him to rest.  The pain in his
branded member continued nearly unabated, however.  His penis would
continue to hurt for several days, that he knew.  After the evening meal,
Ariti arrived in order to fetch him, as part of the payment for work well
done.  He looked at her and found that in spite of what she had done to
him, she was still very attractive to him and he longed to be possessed by
her.  He felt no shame: he would serve her by Atossa's command and would
not dream of doing it behind her back.  Thus he trailed Ariti to her tent,
quiet and submissive.  Halanna was with Ariti.  She offered to visit a
friend, but Ariti wanted her to stay.  She took no part in the proceedings,
however.  Halanna was in fact the only woman in camp who had never used
Fallou; was there perhaps a prohibition against a daughter using her
mother's slave?

   Halanna was certainly not indifferent to males---Fallou knew that she
had been served by Ippou several times.

   Ariti was very friendly that night.  She alternately sat on his face,
hugged him and talked.  Atossa had been very right about the ball-band. 
There was a smaller ring attached to it, and his owners would lead him by
it during the marches.  The branding was also a rare treat.  It was a pity
that you could not brand the underside of the penis, only the top side. 
Otherwise, you might damage the urether, and then the slave would be unable
to pee unless they cut off his cock!  The horror came back to him.  When he
had pushed it away, he thanked Ariti for being so considerate.  She did not
mind the irony but went along with it, assuring him that nobody would want
to ruin such a nice chattel as he was, and then she kissed him wetly and
rode his face again.  And the collar?  She would demonstrate the use of it
tomorrow morning.



   And morning came, and she led him out to the log, and with a large
clincher and a sledgehammer, she nailed his chain to it, and he had to stay
there until the evening, when Atossa came to fetch him and pried him loose
with a crowbar.  Had he noticed that there were tethering-stones around all
campsites, large stones for the horses, with iron rings in them?  She had
found a new use for them.  

(To be continued with part 7)