Enslaved Family

©2010 Herb Cat. Do not reproduce or distribute this story without the author's permission.

As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herb_Cat@mailcity.com. Thank you.

.oOo.

Chapter 8 - The Tattoo

"So, were you surprised when you got to The Grove?" Once more we were standing naked in our living room while Master and Mistress Anderson sat on the sofa smirking.

"Sir, Yes, Sir." We all answered Master with the obvious.

"And were you angry at me?"

"Sir, Yes, Sir." We did not say it enthusiastically, but we knew we had to be honest.

"But did you learn anything in the last three weeks?"

"Sir, Yes, Sir," we admitted.

"So was it all bad?"

"Sir, No, Sir."

"Now, #3,–No, on second thought, you have A3 on your ass now. I think I'll keep using that moniker for you. I think your identity should include a part of your Master's name, don't you?"

"Sir, Yes, Sir," he said proudly. It was almost like being adopted.

"So, A3, what was the best part of the whole experience for you?" I thought he would say the final week when he was pampered, but instead he said the time he spent with the Sanjays. He said he learned if he really worked hard, he could be a good slave. "You are a very smart slave, A3. The Sanjays are a good family. I'm sure they will miss your service. So now tell me, what was the worst thing that happened? Be honest."

"Sir, when the man fucked me, Sir, when he rammed his big cock in my hiney, it hurt, Sir, it really did, Sir. But zero he told me how to make it not hurt so much, Sir."

"Yes, you learned about a very important aspect of being a slave. You're going to put that new knowledge to use a lot from now on. However, that shouldn't have happened, A3. Do you know why it happened?"

"Sir, it was her fault, A1, Sir," he answered honestly.

"Yes, you are right. You got fucked because your stupid bitch mother went and fucked another Master's young charge." Master already knew everything we did over the previous three weeks. "She should have known better and she will pay for her error. Anyone who causes you harm will pay for it, you know that, right?"

"Sir, Yes, Sir."

"Now, A2, I know the best part of your vacation was sleeping with Master Ray."

"Sir, Yes, Sir."

"The Gundersons are good friends of mine. It's a fuckin shame their kid was born that way, but they've carried their cross with dignity and grace. So what was the worst thing for you, A2?"

I thought she would speak of Master Caleb. But she surprised me. "Sir, the worst part was seeing my father humiliated, Sir. He's a good man, Sir."

"Do you have more respect for zero now than you did before?"

"Sir, Yes, Sir. Much more respect, Sir." A3 and I nodded to concur. My husband puffed out his chest in pride.

"So, zero, I guess the vacation wasn't totally bad for you either."

"Sir, No, Sir."

"When you got in the car, zero, did you contemplate not coming back here?"

"Sir, Yes, Sir."

"But here you are. By returning of your own free will, you have voluntarily submitted yourself and your family to us in service."

"Sir, Yes, Sir."

"And you give us complete control over your bodies, your possessions, your minds, your lives."

"Sir, Yes, Sir."

I kept waiting for Master to call on me. I kept running through my head the things I enjoyed and did not enjoy. So often they overlapped. Finally, Master looked directly at me, but his question wasn't one of the two I expected:

"A1, what did you learn from your vacation?"

I took a deep breath and then the words started pouring out. "Sir, I learned that no matter how far away I travel I know in my heart that You are Master, Sir. That you are somehow always taking care of me, though I might not understand how, Sir. That I can serve no one else, Sir, especially not my own selfish interests, Sir. I learned I do not deserve You, Sir, yet You have chosen me, and I am forever grateful, Sir."

"You have learned well, A1. You may now bring me the whip and receive the punishment for your errors."

For each one of the 39 lashes, I cried out, "Sir, Thank you, Sir." And I meant it.

The weeks of summer wore away. The euphoria of our experience in the mountains began to ebb, but not our newfound devotion to Master and Mistress. We returned to the thrift store to shop for new school wardrobes. When the butt IDs finally began to fade, we presented our asses to Master to be rebranded. There were more inspections, more BDSM gear in the living room, and another Labor Day party. This time, all four of us could be used for fucking, and we were pleased that we could serve Master's guests this way. Little A3 took his penetrations like a true soldier.

One Friday in September, Master looked at my calendar. "Why don't I see any red Xs, A1? It's over 29 days. You should be on the rag by now."

"Sir, my period is late, Sir."

"Oh, really?" He grinned. He told A3 to put his uniform on and they headed out to Cub Scouts.

But a week later, I began bleeding. I was so disappointed as I wrote the awful red letter. I so badly wanted to give Master the child he wanted. He had me make an appointment to see the doctor, but all the tests came back negative. I was still ovulating; there was no reason I couldn't conceive.

Master had an aversion to physicians and never went for any kind of diagnostic testing, but this time he did seek a medical opinion. I knew that was difficult for him to do. He couldn't imagine the fault could lie with him. Neither could I. Thankfully, he too was very capable of fathering. His sperm count was high and the little critters were exceptionally active. We just had to be patient. He counted off the days and made sure he bedded me when I should be ovulating.

Meanwhile, the children were both trying extra hard to please Master. They were doing extremely well in school. A2's piano playing had improved tremendously and A1 was a star on the soccer field and working hard on his Webelos badge. Both children's willingness to strive for others made them popular with both their teachers and peers.

"Junior, I never hear you complain about the way Master treats you."

"I like being his slave, Mom."

"Why is that, Junior?"

"With Master, I always know exactly what to do. It's like black and white. There's never a question. I always know when I do good and when I do bad."

"But when he punishes you, I know it hurts you."

"Yeah, my hiney gets sore but it don't hurt outside as much as inside. I feel bad that I let Master down. I want to make him happy. You understand?"

"I understand completely, Son." I gave him a big hug. I did understand. I wanted so bad to make Master happy also. I knew I often screwed things up and I got so mad at myself. I actually wanted Master to whip my ass. Then I tried to improve. Unfortunately, there was one way I kept letting Master down that I couldn't do anything about. That was in the breeding department.

At the beginning of October, A0 had a birthday. We had never fussed much as a family about his birthday, and the previous year it was ignored entirely. But this time it was the big Four-Oh, and Master felt it deserved special recognition. I baked his favorite cake for the occasion. (Not zero's favorite, Master's favorite, of course.) The children made delightful little birthday cards for their Daddy. Master had hinted he had a special present to give zero. We were all on pins and needles in anticipation. We finished our supper and cleared the table, but waited on dessert until Master and Mistress arrived. When they walked in, they had a guest with them, a plain, rather thin man with character lines on his hairless face. He was carrying a case. Master introduced us to him, "Here's A3, A2, A1, and the caged one is the man of the hour, A0." He actually used the word Man! "Slaves, this is Master Hieronymus." So far there was nothing extraordinary about Master Hieronymus's appearance. His features were pleasant enough, but not remarkable.

Then A2 offered to take his coat, like a good servant. As he slid it off, all our jaws fell open. He was wearing a wifebeater, though he might as well have been wearing a long sleeved shirt of a Hawaiian pattern, because his arms and torso (as much as we could see) were covered in tattoos. Glorious, multicolored tattoos. Fruits, naked figures of every race, musical instruments, mythical animals and landscapes all woven in a seamless tapestry.

Master Hieronymus sat down with Master and Mistress and soon had A2 on his lap. As he talked with our owners, he ignored the rest of us, feeling every inch of my eleven-year old's smooth skin. Of course his hand went to her cunnie and she opened her legs wide to give him access. But that wasn't what her brother and parents were staring at. We couldn't stop looking at his body art. It was captivating. I knew I had never seen a tattoo like it before, and yet I thought I recognized it.

Mistress finally broke the spell: "A1, aren't you forgetting why we came over here?"

I startled. "Ma'am, Sorry, Ma'am." I took my ass into the kitchen and she followed me.

I put on the coffee and got the good dishes out. She left three dessert plates and cups and put the rest back in the cupboard. "No use in dirtying extra dishes. Surely, the slaves can use paper." I took the cake out of the fridge and got the knife from the drawer along with the birthday candles. I wasn't about to burn down the house by lighting forty candles, so instead I had bought those wax numerals, a four and a zero. I placed them on the cake and lit them. Mistress snuffed out the four and snidely removed it. I carried the dishes and she followed me with the cake and it's blazing zero, singing Happy Birthday. We all joined in, "Happy Birthday, Dear Zero, Happy Birthday to you."

Master stood up and said, "Zero, you the man of the hour. Get up on the table and sit there where your family can admire you." My husband awkwardly climbed up and planted his naked ass on the dining table. "Spread your legs, zero, so Mistress can set the cake down between them. There, now make your wish." He spoke to him like a child in front of our tattooed guest. Zero took a breath and waited for permission to blow. But Master was silent. Then Master took the burning candle off the cake and tipped it to dribble some melted wax on to the cage. Zero put his hands behind him on the table and leaned back a little as Master adhered the candle to the cock cage. There it continued to burn like a flaming phallus. Master turned to me "Come on, you lazy Bitch, serve the cake." He and Mistress took their seats and I cut three large pieces for them and Master Hieronymus. The candle continued to melt its wax down on to the cage and its contents.

"Little Bitch," Master Hieronymus said to A2, "I don't have a free hand. Hold the plate for me like a good girl." She held the china plate as carefully as she could as he kept up the finger assault on her girlhood. "A3, be a good little boy and feed me." My son took the guest's fork and fed him bites from the plate in his sister's shaking hands. "Poor zero, he never blew out his candle, so I guess he won't get his wish. Son, what do you think that old slave was wishing for?"

Junior had been waiting for this opportunity. "Sir, I think he was wishing he could see the rest of your tattoos, Sir." Master Hieronymus grinned. He briefly let go of his young prize and allowed her brother to pull off his undershirt. We all stared at the new portion revealed.

"Bosch!" Everyone in the room stared at me. "Sir, Ma'am, Sir, I'm so sorry, Sirs, Ma'am. I didn't mean to call out like that, Sirs, Ma'am. Please forgive me, Sirs, Ma'am."

Our well-inked guest smiled at me. "So you are familiar with my namesake's Garden of Earthly Delights."

"Sir, Yes, Sir, I studied art in college, Sir."

Master looked at Junior. "You see, A3? Education is very important. Bring my laptop over here." My son got the computer (which like everything in our house belonged to Master) and sat down. Master had him google the famous painting and there it was in so many brilliant pixels: the exotic fruit, the naked people, the pigs and camels and sea monsters. Master had the boy describe the harp with the naked body stretched across its strings, the man shoving a bouquet of flowers into another man's ass, the scenes of carnal pleasures.

"Sir, he he, that one looks like zero, Sir," Junior giggled. He pointed to a man submerged upside down in a lake. He found the same figure under Master Hieronymus's right arm. All you could see were his legs spread wide like zero's legs with some large tropical red fruit between them, like zero's birthday cake. The figure was trying to cover his genitals so one couldn't see if he was wearing a cage. Zero's candle had down burned out and his cage was encased in melted wax.

Junior continued to match figures on the screen to the tattoo. "Sir, Where's the elephant, Sir?"

"Do you really want to see the elephant?" Junior nodded. The man pulled his wet finger out of Julie's cunt. "Sorry, Bitch, I got to stand up. He set her on the floor. She looked very disappointed. He stood up, dropped trou, and turned around slowly. The tattoo continued down covering his butt and legs down to his ankles. The pig riders, the floating fountain, the lovers in their transparent sphere, the human-eating frog, and giant severed ears.

"Sir, I found the elephant, Sir!" Junior pointed to the man's pubes. The elephant was positioned so that the man's penis provided the trunk. Junior couldn't help himself; he petted the trunk. "Sir, that is so cool, Sir."

"Well, now that I have my pants off anyway..." He picked Julie up and laid her naked body across his shoulder. "Show me where your bed is, little Bitch." Our eyes were glued to that colorful ass as it ascended the stairs to our daughter's boudoir.

"Oh, dear," Mistress moaned, "now we'll have to wait to give zero his special present."

Kind, tender Master unlocked the cage and pulled it off. The wax tore away from zero's cock, but we were both used to getting our pubes waxed. With some boiling water, the cage was soon as clean as before and Master could replace it where it belonged.

From the sound of things upstairs, it was apparent that Master Hieronymus had found a garden of earthly delights between Julia's legs and the elephant was drinking deeply from her sweet well.

Kind, tender Master also allowed us to each have a small sliver of cake as we stood around the computer looking at the painting on the screen. There was no end of details. "Sir, This one is the Master, Sir!" My astute son was pointing to the only clothed figure in the triptych, Father God standing between Adam and Eve. "Sir, he sure does have lots of slaves, Sir. You and Mistress only got four, Sir."

"Well, A3, we're just getting started." I rubbed my naked belly. I knew how desperately Master wanted to breed more slaves. Junior, who had had no prior interest in art of any kind, began to count all the naked slaves in the picture. He gave up and said "Sir, this is the bestest picture in the whole world, Sir." He looked up Bosch and learned all he could about the fifteenth century Dutch painter.

At last, Master Hieronymus returned with A2. She looked very happy. Her cunt was still wet. "Are we all set to give zero his present?" Master and Mistress told their guest they couldn't wait, handed him his case, and ordered zero back on the table, this time lying face down. Master Hieronymus sat down and opened his case, which contained bottles of ink and an electric pen. So he himself was a tattoo artist. "Come here, little Bitch, and be my inspiration." A2 squeezed one butt on the chair beside him him and hung on to his colorful waist.

"Sir, are you going to give zero a tattoo like yours, Sir?" asked my wide-eyed son.

"Yes and no, kid. I'm going to give him a tattoo, yes, but it wouldn't be fitting for a slave to have elaborate art like mine, would it?"

"Sir, No, Sir."

We all watched as the artist wrote a simple but elegant A0 on zero's left buttock. Now my husband wouldn't need to have the felt pen letters reapplied every few weeks. Also now we knew what the rest of us would receive on our birthdays.

.oOo.

As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herb_Cat@mailcity.com. Thank you.