[Runesmith]

When she woke up, she was back in the cabin, lying on her bed, naked under a thin blanket. It was getting dark. Memories of of that afternoon came flooding back, along with a throbbing pain on her left upper thigh. Her fingers touched the area of pain gingerly and found that it was covered in gauze, held in place with surgical tape. It hurt even to move the leg.

A couple of minutes later, the door opened and cum rag walked in. She was carrying a tray with what looked like a bowl of soup and bread on it, a small brown bottle and a small enamel bowl with gauze in it . She set the tray on top of the blue IKEA box, walked over to the bed and sat on the edge.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

Cunt slime exploded in anger. "How am I feeling? How the fuck do you think I am feeling? These animals burned me. They branded me. Why the fuck didn't you tell me they were going to do this? You knew this didn't you? You knew they were going to do this to me and you didn't even tell me. I thought you were my friend. I thought we were on the same side."

Cum rag seemed to be taken aback by the angry, hostile reaction. Her face turned red as she stammered, "Please...I... I... I didn't know. I swear. They had never done something like this before. Not to the other girls or me. Look - If I knew, I would have told you, ok? I am your friend, and I always will be."

Cum rag slid next to her on the bed and put her arm around her shoulder. "Look, cunt slime. You and I - we belong to them now. They have the right to do what they want to us. We don't own our bodies anymore - they do. We only exist to serve. Look, I don't know why you are so angry about this. Think about it. They think so highly of you that they even decided to mark you. I am envious about that - I wish they would give me a mark."

"You? You would want to be branded?"

"Yes. A mark like that means you are accepted... valued. You should think of it as a badge of honor."

"And I am the first to get branded? No other girls before?"

"Um... yeah. No one else. No one else I've known."

Cunt slime felt sorry for yelling at cum rag. It wasn't the girl's fault. Anyway, it wasn't such a big deal, having a mark. It was only the trauma of the experience of getting one. "Ok, I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said. I was just... taken by surprise, that's all. But why number 8? If I am the first girl to be branded, why number 8?"

Cum rag smiled at her. "I have to change your dressing anyway, so I will show you."

Cum rag brought the brown bottle and the enamel bowl over, and carefully peeled off the surgical tape. Then she removed the gauze. It wasn't painful at all. "Look at it, cunt slime. Is that a number 8?"

It wasn't. It was not vertical, but horizontal. Not a number 8, but an infinity symbol. Or, a symbol that looked like a pair of hand cuffs. A symbol that without doubt meant that she was a captive, submissive slave for eternity.

Cum rag poured a clear liquid from the bottle in to a pad of gauze. "This is silver tincture. It will help the burn heal, but it will sting."

It did sting. Although taking pain within a sexual context was something cunt slime (to her surprise) was starting to enjoy, the stinging pain from colloidal silver wasn't. Yet, cum rag's gentle ministrations, followed by the milking of her breasts (her nipples were now producing big droplets of clear fluid and that appeared to please cum rag a lot) and the soup made her feel much better.

The burn healed fast. The swelling and redness disappeared in a day, and the wound dried up in three. The silver tincture helped, but also made the scar very dark, almost like a tattoo. Cunt slime came to like the mark. Being the only whore be gifted with that mark made her proud. She had always tried to be an over-achiever (except in school, for some reason), and having that mark of distinction pandered to that need.

It was probably that need to be an over-achiever which made cunt slime follow cum rag's instructions carefully in learning how to be a good harem whore. The buyer, as cum rag gushed to cunt slime excitedly, was a very rich prince from a tiny, oil producing nation in south east Asia, who was the brother to the Sultan.

The first question cunt slime asked was whether she had to convert to Islam. Cum rag laughed and replied that the buyer probably wouldn't want that. As a muslim woman, she would have practically no rights, but as an infidel, she would have even less. She would be a lowly harem slave, and nobody cared which religion they had.

After the wound healed, her training began in earnest.

To be continued...