Her Master's Mark

- by Lisa Star

At this time they where both deep into the relationship, and their trust in each other was such that they did not need to exchange words on this matter.

She wished His Mark, and He wished to give it, a Mark that would for all time show that she was His, body and heart. For a long time the equipment had been ready, laying in wait for just this moment to appear.

This special morning was mild, not too warm, in the summer months when the grass in their paddock was green and soft. The area behind the house stretched far, and a small square had been fenced in. One day, perhaps, a horse would go there, and use the small stall that had been built on the far side.

Early, when the air was still misty, she rose, smiling to her Master beside her, kissing Him, and walking to the bathroom near the back door. Here it took but minutes to get everything out and ready. She took a bath, enjoying the warm, flowing water.

Drying was a swift process. From the hooks on the wall she now took down her attire, admiring and stroking each garment.

Around her upper body a harness went, tight, tight, with straps around her arms and her legs, holding it tightly in place, but leaving her buttocks, her pussy and her breasts fully exposed. Between her legs other straps ran, holding deep in place the dildo she let slide into her ass, the dildo with the full horses tail attached. A hood covered her head, a hood tied tightly to the harness. Through a hole in the back of this hood her hair flowed like a mane, and ears like a horse pointed up on its sides. Over the hood was a bridle, holding a bit cruelly tight in place in her mouth.

Shivering, with both arousal and delight, she put her feet into the special boots, her feet being forced into a tip-toe position, her toes in the hooves that made up the feet of the boots. They where long these boots, and as the rest of the attire of dark brown skin, like a horse's. The boots where fastened to the harness, tied in place. With these on her feet looked no more like the feet of a human female, but like the hooves of a mare...

Her arms went into long gloves that did the same to her hands, leaving her standing, shivering, aroused, on tip-toe, a perfect little pony girl, awaiting her Masters command. She looked in the mirror, letting her eyes caress the sight, from her pointy horse ears, down her brown-skinned body, to the black hoofs she rested on the floor.

It was at that moment her Master came in the door, closing it behind him, smiling. He walked around her, inspecting, tightening a strap here, pinching her flesh in another spot.

Smiling, satisfied, He stopped in front of her, fastening the reins to her harness, and with a sharp jolt moving her towards the door.

On unsteady hooves she followed, walking slowly, but keeping up. Out through the back door He lead her, down to the paddock.

" Run free my dear, enjoy what time you have left.. " - and with these words He took her reins off, slapping her buttock, and watching her run into the paddock, in a slow trot, just as she had been taught.

He watched her for a while, seeing her try out her hooves in a canter, and even a gallop, before she slowed down, walking around, inspecting her new surroundings.

The day went on, the pony happy in her new life, sleeping a bit in a corner of the paddock, licking some water from the barrel in another. Not until well after midday did her Master return. From outside the paddock He watched her as she trotted towards Him, whinnying happily, trying to bite His sleeve.

He opened the gate, and went in, putting inside the equipment that He carried, a lasso, a gas-powered flame, a first-aid kit. Beside these things He dropped the iron, the long branding iron with the ornamental 'C'...

She pranced backward, winceing, knowing what was about to happen. As much as this was her dream, her wish, she tried to get away, only to be stopped by the fence, turning, stopping again at another fence.

Slowly, with the rope in His hand He approached, smiling as He followed her desperate attempts to escape, preparing His lasso, awaiting the perfect moment.

Her struggles were in vain, the rope finding her, holding her, pulling her towards Him, towards her destiny. He pulled her by her neck, amused by her frantic kicking, her front legs waving towards Him. With a final pull He sent her to the ground, and holding her down with one knee He tied her front legs together, then the hind legs, tying in the end all four to each other, rendering her incapable of escape.

She whinnied, looking up at Him, begging Him, for release, but much more for what He was about to do.

In the flame the iron glowed red and white, ready. He looked down, catching her eyes, then kneeling, keeping her eyes locked to His. " My dear... there are still a way out... " - and He looked for the sign that would break this off, never finding it.

The smile on His face showed His feelings, His pride, and He rose, turning to the flame. The rest of the rope held her head in place, and His foot did the same with her lower body.

With a soft voice He called her name, told her what He felt, of His pride, of His... feelings. She held His eyes, breathing heavily through her bit, but smiling.

With a swift movement He picked the iron up, swinging it, and pressing the still white-hot instrument down on her buttock, pressing it in, feeling how her body tensed, revelling in her screams, clearly audible through her bit, and as He kept the iron in place, branding His mark into her flesh, He kept talking, His voice soft, reaching in to her, through her pain, soothing her mind and body as she burned...

The iron was barely hot when He took it away, her screams long gone, the only sound now the low sobs, then whimpering of the mare in front of Him.

With tender hands He treated the mark, cleaning it, dressing it...

For them both the feeling of ownership had become deeper with this, and would last as long as the Mark stood in her flesh.