EPISODE 5: “Branded by Her”
When a collar isn’t enough… she leaves her mark on your skin — and your soul.
It started with a whisper:
“You’ll carry me forever, even when I’m not there.”
I didn’t know what she meant…
Until she pulled the blindfold from my eyes.
We were standing in a tattoo parlor.
Her heels clicked across the floor as she handed the artist a note.
He glanced at me—then smirked.
“Strip him.”
Her command sliced the silence.
I obeyed instantly.
Naked. Vulnerable. Caged.
She pulled me onto the chair, cuffs locked.
Her fingers brushed my face.
“You’re not just mine. You’re my brand. My message to the world.”
Then she read the design aloud:
“OWNED. CUCKED. MARKED.”
Bold, permanent, just above where my pride used to be.
The needle began.
I gritted my teeth.
It burned… but I didn’t flinch.
Because pain from her is love.
And I wanted every second of it.
She leaned in.
Whispered filth I’ll never forget.
Told me how her Bull was at home, naked in our bed — waiting for her to return and ride him into the sheets I used to sleep in.
“He makes me scream.
You make me laugh.
And this tattoo?
It’ll remind you of your place — every time you look down.”
When the artist finished, she pulled me close.
Ran her tongue gently over the fresh ink.
“You’re sealed now,” she whispered.
“No freedom. No future. Just me.”
We walked out together.
Her hand on my leash.
Her laugh echoing.
My thighs still shaking.
Heart full.
Marked by love, lust, and loss of control.
When a collar isn’t enough… she leaves her mark on your skin — and your soul.
It started with a whisper:
“You’ll carry me forever, even when I’m not there.”
I didn’t know what she meant…
Until she pulled the blindfold from my eyes.
We were standing in a tattoo parlor.
Her heels clicked across the floor as she handed the artist a note.
He glanced at me—then smirked.
“Strip him.”
Her command sliced the silence.
I obeyed instantly.
Naked. Vulnerable. Caged.
She pulled me onto the chair, cuffs locked.
Her fingers brushed my face.
“You’re not just mine. You’re my brand. My message to the world.”
Then she read the design aloud:
“OWNED. CUCKED. MARKED.”
Bold, permanent, just above where my pride used to be.
The needle began.
I gritted my teeth.
It burned… but I didn’t flinch.
Because pain from her is love.
And I wanted every second of it.
She leaned in.
Whispered filth I’ll never forget.
Told me how her Bull was at home, naked in our bed — waiting for her to return and ride him into the sheets I used to sleep in.
“He makes me scream.
You make me laugh.
And this tattoo?
It’ll remind you of your place — every time you look down.”
When the artist finished, she pulled me close.
Ran her tongue gently over the fresh ink.
“You’re sealed now,” she whispered.
“No freedom. No future. Just me.”
We walked out together.
Her hand on my leash.
Her laugh echoing.
My thighs still shaking.
Heart full.
Marked by love, lust, and loss of control.