You are marked obediently

"This will not hurt much," says Rooniree and he begin to paint the swirling design onto your face using a glass spindle. His strokes are sure. The lines curve around your left eye, decorate your cheek and curve onto your chin. He presses hard enough that it is slightly uncomfortable and wherever he paints it begins to burn. The burning fades quickly into numbness and, other than the astringent smell of the Ai'ne ink, it is not unpleasant.

"It will take some time to enter your flesh. I will do the brand now."

He turns to the fire and stokes it to **** heat. Your heart pounds and you tremble at the thought of the pain you are about to endure.

"Show me your hindquarters," he commands.

You hesitate only a moment. Your collar and shackles clatter as you shift onto your hands and knees, lowering your breasts and face to the floor and raising your bottom into the air. You are shocked as Rooniree upends a bucket of cold water over your plump sex and the roundness of your ass. He draws the red-hot brand from the fire and presses it firmly against your buttock. Your flesh hisses and burns beneath the brand. You scream into the floor and your thighs quake with the agony of what he is doing to you.

By the time he stops, the air of the yurt is thick with the smell of burning flesh. The searing pain of the initial contact dulls to a still-potent throb of heat. Tears sting in your eyes and you suck in a ragged breath.

"You are good," croaks your wug master. "Most Ash'aro make terrible screams for the brand."

"Th-thank you, master," you murmur, your face beading with sweat. You lift your head and look at him with genuine adoration. You know you should be afraid and even humiliated by what he has done to you, but the truth is that it feels as if everything is beginning to make sense for the first time in your life. Rooniree will keep you safe and protect you from evil. You will carry his eggs in your body and nurture them.

"Good, good," croaks the wug. "I give you salve. Then we go for walk. I take you to the purity springs. Ash'aro always enjoy wise fish."

He begins to apply a soothing cream onto your buttock where he branded you. His amphibian fingers are perhaps not as nimble as a human's and they curl between your cheeks and stroke against your sensitive pucker. You coo appreciatively. Rooniree gets an unreadable expression on his froggy face. His fingers stroke more intently at your back passage. You moan a bit louder and push yourself against his massaging fingers.

"Perhaps wise fish can wait," croaks Rooniree.

You smile, enjoying his caress against your anus. Perhaps if you beg for him he will give you his delicious cock again. But what of this 'wise fish'?