I am Four


It’s a work of fiction, and all participants are over 18 years of age.


Raindrops on roses,

And whiskers on kittens,

Bright copper kettles, and warm woolen mittens.

Brown paper packages, wrapped up with string.

These are a few of my favorite things.

-A few of my favorite things (Rodgers and Hammerstein)


Julie Andrews was so cute as Maria, but if I sang the song, I would sing some very different lyrics. Leather, soft supple polished leather, would be prominently featured. Made into cuffs, blindfolds and pumps… And I need something much stronger than string to bind be as I am toyed with and fucked. Needles, nice sharp ones, they are fun too, and they have so many uses.

I am Four, it is my legal first name now. It’s on my Missouri Commercial Drivers Licence along with a last name that I use only for the requirements of my job. In conversation with those who know me I am simply “Four,” in our frequent playtime I am “Slave Four,” or more formally “Slave Girl Four – Property of Master Joe.”

In my mind, in both of my hearts, the muscle in my chest and the heart of indelible ink in my dermis atop that muscle, I am truly the owned property of Master Joe. There are other names and symbols, those of my family, inked in my pale Celtic dermis as well.

Five is my best friend and fellow slave girl, her number is one of those engraved forever in my dermis. So are the numbers of Two, Three, Six and Seven. Of One and Eight… Master Dan owns Two and Three, Master Ben owns Five and Seven. Five and I recruited Six for my master, Joe. One and Eight belong to our boss Master Jake. These dozen people are my whole world.

In high school Mr. Humprey taught that a story has a beginning and a middle and an end. I will start near the beginning, when I came to live here as Master Joe’s first slave girl. It is a beautiful place; four acres on a dead end street backing to a wildlife preserve in a valley south of the community college. We have four large bedrooms, a nice communal room with a big kitchen on the main floor, and a well equipped dungeon downstairs.

We have mature trees that shield our home from neighbors, high privacy fences, and a nice big outdoor swimming pool that’s normally usable five months a year here in Kirkwood, a western suburb of Saint Louis. We also have several large wooden posts sunk into the ground around that pool and its deck, and lots of tiki torches to keep the mosquitoes from distracting the helpless slave girls who are often bound to those posts.

We have a large detached garage and a gravel parking area for the big over the road trucks, called tractors, that we operate. It’s 31 hours to ‘Frisco or Seattle, 27 to El-Lay from here. We run three teams of three, a master and two slave girls out west each week. Saturday and Sunday everyone is here in Saint Louis. Wednesday nine of us are on the coast and then we come back. It’s actually a fun way to live.

When I came to live here at ‘home,’ I already belonged to Joe in my heart. Five, she had a different name back then, was my best friend at Horton Watkins High School where we majored in Vodka and minored in Bourbon. We had fun, rarely studied and were always ‘socially promoted,’ it was easier for them than talking to our affluent parents. We found Merrimac Community College to be a just a tad difficult, likely because we had stopped paying attention to our teachers in eighth grade or thereabouts.

We met brothers Joe and Ben at the college. Ben took a liking to Five and made her his. She and I had been ‘gay together’ in high school so it was so cool finding two confident put-together dudes who were brothers and were into intense sex games, even if they did make us stop drinking. We were taking business classes, at Merrimac, we would certainly not make it as doctors. But my dad made a ton of money doing something called Commercial Paper for a bank or an investment company or someplace. He is totally clueless, so how hard could business be.

Joe and Ben’s older brother Dan had already graduated and was working for Jake, their dad. They were owner-operators who ran two trucks to Texas and the Great Lakes with five drivers. With four trucks and bebek escort nine drivers they could bid on and win longer, more profitable runs. We got ourselves CDLs and joined them. Now we run three trucks to the west coast each week.

One has been Jake’s slave girl for thirty years. Dan, Joe and Ben are her sons, and she has been like a second mother to me. Well actually more like a nice mother who doesn’t constantly ask me a lot of pseudo-questions which are all just thinly veiled insults. My real mom’s claim to fame was marrying well and “talking” occasional cops out of giving her DUIs. A little Gin and Tonic gargle afterward, and she was just as good as new.

One has taught me and my sister slave girls how to be good sexual servants to her sons. Our relationship, Joe’s and mine, is a “forever-till-death-do-you-part” deal. I have placed my life and my soul in Joe’s good keeping. In return he takes good care of me. He made me quit drinking, get some exercise and sleep and eat right, but I love him in spite of all that. He makes certain that I am healthy and always sexually satisfied. I obey him without question in return. He makes certain that my bloodstream is constantly awash in endorphins and endocannabinoids.

When Joe asked me to be his slave girl, to wear his ring, I wanted to just say “yes” immediately. But Joe said that I had to understand exactly what his offer meant. It would not be a ring around my finger; it would be a ring through my flesh. Through the bottom of my clitoral hood just under the shaft. A small ring or barbell that would restrict her expansion decreasing her stimulation, alternating with a big one would allow full erection and add pleasurable sensation as she grew.

So Joe took me to meet his parents, Jake and One. They had just purchased the house I now call ‘home’ and were not even unpacked yet. Joe parked in front of the garage and Jake met us at the front screened porch. He looked so poised and polished. Confident, he had a very attractive demeanor. He was wearing a luxurious white terrycloth robe.

We went inside and Joe introduced me to One, his mother. She was physically perfect with a platinum blonde pageboy hairdo, and she was also wearing a decadent robe like Jake. Joe had told me that his mother was sexually submissive to his father, and that was what he wanted in a relationship. I understood, it excited me, but hearing it and seeing it were two completely different things.

The first thing One told me after the perfunctory niceties and small talk, was that she accepted all of the terms of her ‘enslavement to Jake’ willingly and without reservation. She had been a free woman. Free to choose, but that having made her choice… Her commitment to Jake ‘for life,’ she was not at liberty to change it, nor was he. It worked both ways, and benefitted them both.

Jake had promised to love her, treasure her, support her financially and emotionally and to make certain that she was healthy and sexually fulfilled, forever. She had in turn promised to obey him without question, forever. She handed each of us matching terry cloth robes as Jake began to speak. He said that he would answer any questions I had; if I would prefer to speak with One, she had his permission to answer any questions as well tonight.

That if I accepted Joe’s offer to be his slave… We, Joe and I, would be bound together forever, that he and One would also look after me, but that none of the terms were negotiable. I could ask Joe for exceptions or accommodations, and that Joe was mostly free to do as he saw fit in that regard. Then they pointed at the hall bath and said we should change into the robes.

I took hold of Joe’s hand, silently asking him to accompany me. He did and as he closed the door behind us I gave him a big hug. A hug that evolved into him sensually tracing his hands along my back. Then lovingly fondling my buttocks before reaching the hem of my dress.

Then he reached down a little more, bunching the hem of my dress and pulling it slowly and smoothly over my head. At his request I had quit wearing panties long ago. He reached down to sample my abundant wetness, bringing his fingers up to taste me. Offering me a mecidiyeköy escort taste, before carefully removing my bra. He put the soft robe on my tingling body.

Then I unbuttoned his shirt. He did not have to ask me to undress him. I was an intoxicated and disinterested student, not a dumb one. I knew how to serve my master, at least a little, and I could learn more. I carefully removed Joe’s shirt and kissed his chest hairs and his nipples. Then I knelt before him, and unzipped his slacks. I released his beautiful penis from his BVDs, and I started to lovingly suckle it. Playing with the sensitive shaft of his male organ in my hand, and in my mouth.

He enjoyed the warm wet sensory stimulation, eventually pushing hard on the back of my head so that his penile head slipped into my accommodating throat. I could not breathe but I was in heaven. Before I actually went there he released me, and I gagged and spat and cleared my throat and finally breathed. Then he pushed me back onto his lovely dickhead. He went four more cycles, then he released his savory wad into my willing throat. I slid his slacks off and folded them neatly.

“I think I should like you to undress me from now on,” he said.

“Yes, Master Joe, as you wish.”

He then graciously permitted me to wrap him in his terry cloth robe, like a newly coronated emperor. Then he opened the bathroom door. We saw big smiles on the faces of Jake and One. I image they heard us through the door. Jake said that in a moment One would remove her robe, and I should take a good look at his slave.

He said that I should feel free to interrupt them to ask questions, and that I could say stop or leave at anytime. Anytime up until the ceremony. But at and after the ceremony if there were to be one, I would be forever bound to Joe and them as family.

One removed her robe. Oh, my she was absolutely magnificent, a beautiful desirable woman, firm and toned. One had two very large ivory tapers residing horizontally pierced through her very, very large nipples. Her areolas had been completely tattooed with a pair of bright red five pointed stars that extended onto her breasts. Two detailed bluebirds were tattooed half way between her shoulder blades and the rise of her gorgeous breasts.

She had beautifully defined arm muscles and a nice mostly flat belly with just a hint of padding. There were multiple Grateful Dead style skulls and roses tattooed from one ovary, over the curvature of her hips, across her back, over her other hip bone to her other ovary. Names of her family members were tattooed in flowing script between the roses, stems and leaves.

The arabic numeral ‘one’ was branded on her bare pubis, under a fancy navel ring with six silver chains and six small stones. I did not know then, but in time a seventh chain and my birthstone would soon be added to it. Below her pubic brand eight, no ten, ten little round balls… Some stainless, some gemstones, were at the end of five stainless steel studs holding her labia majora tightly together. It made her sex impenetrable.

I was so turned on. I understood everything well before Jake and One explained it carefully and slowly. I wanted it. To be modified just like One, more than anything I had ever wanted. I wanted to belong to Joe, body and soul, to have him change my name; to have him modify my body to show everyone that I was his. His forever and ever and ever.

Jake said that One had not had a penis in her vagina since Ben. He smiled, then he chuckled. He must have seen my quizzical look…

“Incest?” He laughed at his own questioning statement. “No childbirth. One’s front door was permanently closed after Ben.”

“But there is a party in the rear every night,” said One smiling.

I took a good long look at her. One was twenty-five or more years older than me and in better physical shape. Happier than me too, I wanted that. To be owned by someone worthy who would love me enough to kick my ass and make me do the right things. To take care of myself and him. A real man.

But my biggest surprise was the wig. One removed her wig. I hadn’t known it was a wig, it was very high quality. Her perfect platinum blonde pageboy was a wig. florya escort Her head had been freshly shaved. A tattoo of the arabic numeral ‘one’ and block lettering stating “One Property of Master Jake” had been on the back of her head underneath that beautiful blonde wig.

Joe spoke, “If you accept my offer, and become mine, it will be forever. Your new name will be Four. ‘Slave girl four, property of Joe.’ I promise to always look after your best interests and to always love and treasure you. I will walk through life by your side in all things. I will keep you happy and healthy, floating in ‘happy juice.’

“In return you will do as I say. I and no one else, unless I say so. You will serve me and my brothers, your brother masters. You will help and love your slave sisters as equals. If you accept, I will offer you to Jake and One, to bring you into our family. But they had Dan do Two and Three. So they will have me do you in front of all of us instead.

“Do me?” I asked.

“You will be branded on your Mound of Venus just like One, my mother,” he said. “Your hair will be shorn and shaved by me and your skull tattooed just as hers is. You will wear beautiful wigs. A professional artist will do the tattoos. Two and Three were tied to the couch and sucked Dan off while the backs of their heads were tattooed. I would like to do that with you as well.

“I will pierce your hood and you will wear my ring. Eventually we will pierce your nipples and your big lips. We will tattoo your areola into red diamonds and decide on other ways to add all of our names to your flesh. Anyone who looks at you will know that you are owned. That you belong to me, to this family.”

The juice from my pussy was just dripping down my leg by now. By way of an answer I knelt on the living room floor, in front of his parents, opened his robe and took him into my mouth. One stepped to me. Standing behind me she was sensuously running her fingers through my hair, gently massaging my scalp as her son throated me, and ejactulated into Four, his new slave.

After Joe had come inside of me, One helped me up and removed my terry cloth robe. As she was removing my robe Joe and Jake took theirs off. Jake and One touched, then examined and gently manipulated my breasts. They talked about where they would pierce my nipples and how pretty and more sensitive they would be afterward.

One placed my hand on her breast and let me examine her beautifully tattooed areolas, and her huge nipple piercings. In answer to my questions, One explained that they would use proper hollow surgical steel piercing needles to pierce me deep at the intersection of nipple and areola. That once they were healed, the piercings would safely bear an incredible amount of weight. That tugging and pulling on them would be a lot of fun for me. Doing it would make me juice.

She said that the tattooing was very painful, but only for a moment. That the human body reacts to painful stimuli by creating a natural painkiller and a natural high. That was why I enjoyed it so much when Joe paddled and whipped me. I looked quizzically at her, and she explained that she could see the faint marks on me. She called them “beauty marks.” She knew I enjoyed the rational, controlled infliction of sexual pain.

I hugged One so tightly. I finally had someone who understood me. Someone I could talk to about the things that I was going over in my head. One told me how happy she was belonging to Jake, how Jake would take her out like a thoroughbred racehorse and put her through her paces. Take her to places she never knew she could go. She had no doubt that her son Joe could do the same thing for me.

Then she reached down to my crotch. She touched my Mound of Venus, and she stroked it as she told me I would love having a ‘four’ branded on it. She slipped a finger inside my wetness and said that she missed doing this to herself, but that Jake’s affection made it worthwhile. She kissed me deeply with lots of tongue action. The little balls on her tongue stud felt great. I needed one of those.

One slipped two fingers in me and started working them hard while rubbing the glans of my clitoris with her thumb. I was panting and kissing her and toying with her ivory tapers in her nipples. Then just before I came… Before orgasming in front of an audience… Just before coming as the talented fingers of One, my Master’s beautiful mother, brought me over the edge. I heard Jake say to his son, my Master.

“You picked a good one.”

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