"Mar" her.

You reach forward, caressing her face. "Indeed, I think I will leave a mark on you, as a token of my ownership." You tighten your grip, your fingers leaving marks on her cheeks. Suddenly you slap her again, once on each side of the face. Tears leap to the corners of her eyes and her head jerks back between her upraised arms. You caress her breast through her thin silken tunic and she pulls her feet up from the floor, trying to get them in front of her chest. With a light push you set her spinning gently around, her body writhing as she tries to keep you in front of her. You catch her by the hips as she faces away, sliding your hands up underneath her tunic to cup her lovely breasts. She wriggles helplessly against you, her ass rubbing against your stiffening cock through her thin leggings. Her toes scrabble on the floor as she fights to gain traction enough to pull away. You hold her in place, running your fingers over small nipples, stroking her skin. You reach up and grasp her collar from inside, tearing out and down through the material until it rips off her body. She shudders violently, her hands clawing fruitlessly at the air. You step back, running your fingers lightly down her sides. Her form is beautiful in the flickering torchlight of the seventh floor, the red glow outlining the curves of her body. In the glow her shoulder-blades are especially visible, drawing your attention and promising enticements. 

With a grin you turn aside to one of the glowing firepits that open at intervals in the floor. From within one you draw a glowing iron, its tip dull orange from the heat. Litessa twists her head around to see what you are doing and shrieks piercingly at the sight of the hot iron. She twists frantically, fighting to keep away from the glowing brand, but she cannot move any farther away. With a gesture you freeze her still. "Dear Litessa, you cannot possibly escape, and you could truly do great damage if you move while I am working." Again you step around behind her, the brand glowing in your hand. With a careful hand you bring the brand close to her skin, her skin beginning to bead with sweat in the heat from the iron. Quickly, before she can appreciate what's happening, you draw a searing line from the base of her shoulderblade to her shoulder and then up the outside of her arm, the skin scorching black and bubbling under the iron. Just as quickly you repeat the motion on the opposite side, then begin a series of gentle arcs beneath the major lines, moving from her spine around her sides, almost reaching to her breasts. In less than two minutes of practiced, careful strokes the marks are completed, the girl still held frozen in your control. Tears leak around her eyes from the burning agony as her new scars go from cauterized numbness to screaming, fiery pain. You release her head and neck from your control and she bursts into a shriek so keening it rings throughout the entire tower. 

"And just to prove I am nothing if not merciful- and because I truly do not wish you to be feverish- I will heal those burns, dear, in just a moment. But first you must control yourself, cease this wretched shrieking..." Heedless, her screams go on. "Please, oh gods, please, stop it, please, end it, heal me..." You shrug at her continued cries and snap your fingers. In your hand appears her wooden staff. Casually you rap her back lightly with it. The contact sets all her scars freshly afire, new cries bursting forth at greater volume. "Control, my angel. You have never suffered and now you must learn control. You must accept all I give you and thank me for it, beg at my feet for me to continue. Then your suffering can be remedied." Your words pierce her agony and she stiffens, gasping again as the skin stretches across the terrible burned furrows in her skin, sobbing more quietly as she struggles to regain her breath. After a few moments, she speaks, her voice tight with agony. "Please, Master, please give me relief, I beg you." Another lash across her back sends bolts of fiery agony afresh across her skin, and new cries tumble out. You bark again. "I said beg for MORE, angel, not less. Beg for more and accept it when it is given, and then you may have relief." After a few more moments, her breathing quiets again. "Master, may I-" Her voice trails off, not yet able to beg for further ****. You smack her spine again and she screams. "Please, Master, may I... may I have more?" She gasps, horrified at herself and anticipating the requested blow. You pause, allowing the tension to build, then lash her again. She screams again, and you respond with another lash, eliciting further screams. Again she begs and this time you strike without hesitation, growing slightly bored with her inability to control herself and accept you. Finally, she remains quiet except for a gasp and a whimper, and you decide to accept it.

"You see, angel? Not so hard, is it?" With a wave of your hand across her back the furrows crinkle and clench, drawing themselves closed as blackened flesh falls away. Left behind are long, distinct scars tracing stylized wings across her shoulders, back, and arms. You step in front of her, tweaking her nipple in your hand as with a gesture you drag a dirty mirror over from against the wall. You twist her head in your grasp, showing her the new decorations from which her nickname derives. Then your hand slides down her chest and into her silk trousers, drawing another gasp as your fingers slide across her bald lips. You tear her leggings and loincloth off and she hangs nude before you, head downcast and tears filling her eyes in anticipation of her humiliation.