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LOVE STORY
por Luv 3000 (de California)
"The time has come", he whispered in her ear.
She struggled to stop the tears running down her cheeks. She loved her Master, and did not want to bid him farewell, but the time had come. She had to move on. She stood up, completely naked except for the collar and cuffs, between the two pillars. Her master lifted her arms and fastened the straps of the arms to the columns with strong pieces of rope, although he did leave enough rope for her to grab at it if she wanted. She liked to have something to hold on to when the pain became intolerable. He placed a stool in front of her so that she could support her knees when her strength would begin to wane.
They had spoken much of this moment. She had been with her Master for a long time, and he had taught her everything she knew. But the time had come to move to other endeavours, and she was going to be freed. She had beseeched him to allow her to receive a mark on her body, of whatever type, that was to symbolise her being possessed, that she had always belonged to him in her heart. Her Master had told her he had already decided what that was to consist of and that today, the last day they were to be together, she was to receive it from his own hands.
The Master had laid out several small tables around the place where she was tied, and filled them with candles of all types. When his slave was well bound, he began to light the candles. He left the room for a moment, and returned with his arms full of wire and tools. She watched without understanding anything. He cut a piece of wire, gave it a small oval form and braided with tweezers. He then took a candle and began to heat the wire.
The slave then knew what he had in mind. He was going to brand her with fire. She breathed deeply and gritted her teeth. Her Master kissed her softly and caressed her hair. He placed himself behind her, and she heard how he dragged a table full of candles towards the place where she was bound. He caressed her shoulders, and kissed them. He then grasped her thigh with a firm hand, and she then noticed the short and burning contact of metal on her skin.
She bit her lips and tried not to move or utter a single groan. The burnt area stung her and itched, and she could notice the acrid smell of scorched skin. Her Master asked her if all was well. She nodded, and he began to heat the wire again. She tried to stay still, but after several prods with the wire, she could not repress her tears. She was trying to remember each and every one of the proddings with the red-hot iron, imagining what it was that her Master was creating on her aching skin. Again and again, the only thing she felt was this terrible burning on her shoulder and down her back, and then she lost all notion of what he was doing. She wandered into a limbo of suffering until it all ceased suddenly. She noticed how a wet cloth was scantily alleviating her mistreated dermis. She lifted her head and saw her Master in front of her. She had not even realised this until she knelt on the foot-stool, with her arms still hanging from the ropes. The tug of the ropes was weakening her.
He dried her face and kissed it. He untied her wrists and, for the first time in years, removed her collar. He took her delicately by the arm and helped her stand up. She was feeling very weak.
Step by step, he accompanied her to two large mirrors that had been placed to allow her to see her back. She smiled softly and was touched. On the sides of her back she could see two red wings as the flames of hell clearly branded. She could see the clean lines that furrowed her shoulder blades, and the careful detail with which the feathers had been drawn.
It was difficult to conceive, but, with time, those red brandings would end up becoming the fine pink lines of the wings of an angel.
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