"Zara: Pierced and Branded Slave"
Written by MrBondskin
Part One
Zara had no idea what she was getting into. She had agreed to go out with Bret
only because her agent had asked her.
Zara was your typical straving actress desperate to get ahead in Hollywood, and
desperately in need of that elusive first break. She had to literally wrestle
with Bret, just to get him to stop kissing her. Another casting couch affair,
Zara muttered to herself.
At least Bret was a different producer than most: he called her a cab and gave
her fare to get home.
But that was six hours ago. The cabbie never had any intention of driving Zara
home; he was another lackey on the payroll of the producer Bret. And he had been
instructed to drive into a dark alley and incapacitate poor Zara. Having worked
these jobs for Bret before, the "cabbie" was more than a match for the pretty
young thing.
When Zara regained consciousness, she immediately felt a tremendous throbbing in
her head where the cabbie had landed the handle of a gun. She meekly opened her
eyes to find that she was in the center of some meticulously adorned prison
cell. It was basically four gray walls with a wide range of assortment torture
devices. Zara recognized only a handful, and of the others she would have
prefered to have been ignorant.
"Well, I see, my proud little plaything has opened her eyes again," Bret said as
he opened the steel door; the only way in and the only way out as far as Zara
could tell.
Bret was still wearing the suit and tie combo he had on earlier and he simply
stood there admiring the captured beauty.
Zara was still fully clothed and her hands were shackled to chains that led up
into the ceiling. Her legs were slightly spread as her ankles were chained to
eyebolts on the concrete floor. Bret smiled and licked his lips as he
concentrated on her exotic good looks.
At about 5'9", Zara was above average height, and with her 5-inch heels right
now, she stood easily at 6 feet tall. Her legs needed little help, but they were
sculpted even more by the black high heels that came up to her ankles and then
through a series of tight black straps, wrapped around her lower leg up to her
knees. Bret wondered if Zara had a natural fetish for bondage. If she did, he
planned on surpassing any soft bondage dream she might have had.
Above her knees, her simple black dress hovered, although it suffered a few
scratches in the transition from the cab to the cell. There was a slit that
creeped almost to mid-thigh, and this trace of flesh drew another inaudible
sound of approval from Bret.
It was obvious to Bret, she was not wearing a bra, but even so her breasts were
large enough to make an impression on the fabric. And with the chains pulling on
her upper body, Zara's breasts were given additional, seductive lift. Either she
was excited or scared because her nipples were evidently hard pressed into her
dress.
Her neck was thin and looked almost frail. The color of her face was sketched in
warm tones, giving Zara that exotic, permanently tanned appearance. Her eyes
usually intoxicated most men. Despite her crying now, Bret could still see that
her blue irises almost looked too big for her eyelids. Her long brown hair was
covering most of her precious face at the moment, and she refused to look
directly into Bret's eyes.
"If you had only cooperated with me back in my office, it wouldn't have come to
this, Zara. But I tell you what. I'll give you a second chance. Sleep with
me---of your own free will---tonight and I will let you out of here, and, what's
more, I'll even help you get that 3-picture deal with Orionia Productions. Come
on, Zara. Small price to pay for fame."
"I'll never sleep with you, Bret. I want to make it on talent and hard work. I
don't need to sleep with anybody to make it on my own," Zara concluded her
defiant statement with the same kind of dramatic flourish she gave in her high
school drama class.
"Oh, but that's where you're wrong,Zara dear. Because if you don't sleep with me
here and now, you won't, how is it everyone puts it: You won't ever work in this
town again. I'll see to that...in the most painful of ways. Your choice."
"No, never!"
"Well, Okay, but remember, when you're begging to fuck me that you yourself
said,'No, never.' I just want you to remember that when you're pissing on
yourself in pain."
And he began his demonstration by slapping her hard across the face. Bret wasted
no time, he took out a pocket knife and thrashed at her little black dress. In
minutes, Zara was hanging only in high heels and black silk panties.
"Ah, french-cut panties. I like your taste, Zara. And I like those shoes too. I
think we'll let you wear them for a while. But the panties got to go."
Bret slid the knife blade under the panties over her hips and snipped them off,
revealing a neatly trimmed mound of brown hair. Bret, frowning with some
dissatisfaction, approached her pubic hair and began the slow process of
removing the hairs one by one with his index finger and thumb. This painful
ordeal seemed to go on for hours, and by the time he had thinned out her mound,
she was sweating and cursing.
He came back from a work bench carved out of the wall with a razor and shaving
cream. He applied the white substance and carefully shaved the remaining hair
completely off.
Strangely, Zara felt her nudity increase with this latest invasion of her
privacy.
Bret stepped back from his work with a nod of approval.
"Now, you know what looks best on freshly shaven pussy?"
Zara was too humiliated to formulate an answer. She just kept her head bowed.
"Don't know, huh? Why, a freshly pierced pussy! Now, scream if you like, because
baby, I'm no professional and I know when I do this, it usually hurts the girls
something awful."
"No, no, please, don't do that! No, please don't hurt me there, Bret.
Bret!!"
Her pleading didn't stop his advances. She heard the click of metal and looked
down to see him rub his fingers along his cunt lips.
"Doesn't really matter where I put the first ones, because after I'm finished
with you, Zara, you're going to be pierced at least a dozen times, so it will
all kind of blend in."
He took the first needle and poked her tender skin. Zara screamed an inhuman
scream at the top of her lungs, but no one would hear her in the bowels of this
entrenched basement. She heard the first ring click together and she couldsense
the added weight resting on her pussy lip.
"No, no, please, God, this can't be happening to me. Please I pro-----"
Her sentiments were cut off by another unearthly scream as Bret pierced into her
other pussy lip to supply her with a matching steel ring. He tugged on them both
simultaneously to test the new applications.
"Looks fine, but I really have a thing for threesomes. We need one more ring,
and guess where it's going,Zara."
And just like that, he pierced the sensitive flesh her clit, sending her head
back in terrible pain. He brought out a heavier ring and snapped it within and
without her throbbing clit.
Zara was just about to pass out when Bret slapped her across the face to bring
her back to life.
"Give up yet? Will you sleep with me of your own free will now?"
Barely able to force the air through her lips, Zara said in a shaking, quivering
voice,"No, Bret. Never. You can go to hell."
"Well, I guess we just weren't meant to be, Zara. Too bad. I wish I didn't have
to do this."
Bret returned from the work bench with a set of brands. Each one had temperature
controls, and he was in the process of warming them up for use.
"Zara, let me introduce you to my branding set. It's an alphabet of brands,
really, 26 in all, with a few extras for punctuation and special marks. We're
going to experiment with what I like to call permanent body art."
"Nooooo, nooooo, please, stop this. You're insane, Bret. Stop now and I wont
tell anybody!"
"You see, first, we're going to establish a brand of ownership, and we'll spell
that out on the small of your back."
He took the letters for the first word and organized them on the floor.
B-R-E-T-'-S.
He slowly raised the brand of the letter "B" and pressed it firmly against her
skin. He held on to her body to keep it from separating away from the brand.
"The key really is holding the brand down long enough so when the skin scars,
you can still clearly make out the words."
Twenty minutes later, he had applied the phrase, "BRET'S SLAVE" to her back,
despite Zara's frequent trips into unconsciousness. After he had started the "S"
of slave, Zara was begging to suck his cock, swallow his cum, suck on his toes,
anything he wanted, if he would just stop the torture.
After finishing the second word, he agreed, and Zara greedily sucked on his
aching cock and greedily consumed all of his plentiful cum. And when she was
finished sucking him off, and licking the cum off the floor that missed her
face, Bret reshackled her ankles and wrists and stretched her out to the ceiling
again.
"Oh, Zara, that was good, but I know with the proper motivation you can do
better next time."
