So here is a 'sample' of things to come.... SirStefan
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At A Glance
Author Tracy
Contact
bi24u@goplay.com
Artist Lori
Studio Lori's bedroom
Here's my branding story! I'm twenty-two now, but at the time of this story I was seventeen. I happened across this sight and thought I would tell my experience to the BME world.
Strong athletic girls turn me on and during my high school years experienced my first bisexual relationship with a much older bisexual women. It started as an erotic sexual awakening for me but over time became much more intense! She introduced me to the bd/sm lifestyle. The pleasure / pain sessions with her became more intense. She told me after one session that she wanted to "mark" me as her submissive slave.
We discussed her various ideas but she insisted on a brand. My youth and ambition took over! Wanting to please her I agreed even though I was scared to death. It took weeks to build the courage to submit to it but I agreed to let her burn her mark into my left forearm.
I want to mention that I never thought about the permanent nature of this scar and even today I am asked about it! I will never do it again not because of the pain but, because I don't want any more permanent marks on my body! I believe this single experience left me with more will power and courage to face difficulties. Maybe she suggested a brand to test my limits. It definitely tested my physical and emotional limits, but as I mentioned it was an external sign of our bond to each other.
Lori read as much as she could about branding and because the scar tissue may expand 300-500% the width of the actual strike, a brand could not be too complex. At first Lori thought of using a screwdriver for the strikes but decided on 7 various pieces of stainless steel to create the design.
After discussing it for several days and truly demanding me to submit to it. The time had come. She spent at least 45 minutes with me in front of the bathroom mirror getting the placement on my arm exact. In her bedroom, she laid the supplies on a towel. Trying to relax, I sat in a chair and she secured my arm at my elbow and wrist to the arm of the chair. She washed the area with alcohol. I'm a little hairy for a girl and Lori discussed shaving my arm, but instead decided to burn through my hair with the hot metal.
She used vice grips to hold the design parts and light the propane torch. As she held the steel in the flame I watched as it turn red hot. She pulled it from the flame, and I was shaking and breathing so hard she stopped to compose me and that took so long it had cooled enough that the color faded to normal. She heated the it again, brought it close enough that I could feel the radiating heat, lost my nerve, and again she did not touch my skin. She wanted me to have it and I wanted or needed it too, at this point they both seemed the same.
For the third time she heated the metal red hot, I took a deep breath and she made the first strike, applying a little pressure. My skin melted and my hair
burned. I'll never forget the smell. It popped as a trail of smoke rose as I watched in erotic pain! My heart pumping so fast. I will never forget the intense blinding pain as I cried. In just seconds my nerve endings were cauterized. Quickly the endorphins hit. Sounds and colors became extremely intense then subsided too normal.
She waited a bit for me to collect myself then she continued on with the
remaining strikes, seven in all. None hurt for more than a few seconds, and none like the first strike! Suddenly she was done. How long it took, I couldn't even guess. I hadn't looked at the clock when she started, and didn't look when she finished. Time was non-existent during the entire procedure. But I had gotten so into the flow and was surprised to see that she was finished. Still tied to the chair she kissed and stroked my branded arm. We made wonderful love and fell into deep sleep.
The branding took more energy out of me than I had expected.
I woke up the next morning still tired. Rolling onto my side I felt a shooting pain up and down my arm. Remembering the events of the previous night, I quickly sat up in bed and ripped off the bandage. During the next few weeks life seemed almost normal, though it was odd caring for a third degree burn no one else knew about. For about two months after it healed though, my brand was
sensitive and itched to no end. I was constantly scratching my long-sleeved arm to any observer's confusion and wincing in pain because it felt like rubbing grit into an open wound.
Over the years it has faded some and my hair hides it some too. It is most noticeable in the summer when I am very tan as the scar tissue tans poorly. People still see it and ask how it happened, when I tell them about the experience they look at me, like I must be crazy!!
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