The Mark of Ownership
Isabel stroked my trembling head as I climaxed. “Good girl. It’s only proper to show it when you come.”
“Haa… ahh…”
“Your womb has become this sensitive. I suppose we’ll have to call Elisha a special case.”
“Huu…”
The faint pleasure still rising from between my legs stretched the afterglow of my orgasm. Being praised while my head was petted made the climax itself feel like something to be rewarded, leaving me with a strange feeling.
“How does the pleasure from your womb compare to your clitoris?”
“Was the spot you pinched earlier my clitoris, Master?”
“My, there’s still so much to teach you. This is your clitoris.”
Isabel gently caressed the same spot she had pinched earlier. So that was the clitoris. I had never seen or touched it directly, only sensed its location by feel. Yet it was hard to distinguish from the surrounding area. The sensation felt similar, only the location differed.
“It feels similar.”
“Similar stimulation from the outside… remarkable. I wonder how it would feel if stimulated directly.”
While I was still dazed from the afterglow, my body was swiftly bound to the chair’s restraints. Isabel cut away my lab coat with a scalpel and operated the control panel several times. The leg section split apart and began to spread. So the chair could move like this too?
The smoothly operating chair finally stopped once my legs were spread into an M-shape.
“Oh my, how clean. Not a single hair, and so smooth.”
Isabel covered my sex with her hand and stroked it gently. The slick fluids made a wet sound.
“For someone so dry, your labia are quite plump. Your inner lips are completely hidden. You don’t masturbate, do you?”
“Um, isn’t this sexual harassment? It’s embarrassing.”
“This isn’t harassment. It’s simply an experiment. Think of it like a doctor’s examination.”
She pulled up a chair, donned latex gloves, and began touching me in earnest. Was this really all right? It didn’t feel right, yet if I thought of it as a medical examination for diagnosis, maybe it was acceptable.
“At this rate, your labia will become wonderfully plump once you put on some weight. Now, shall we take a look inside?”
I felt myself being spread open, and the sensation of cool air against my exposed flesh sent a chill through me. The shame of having a place even I had never seen laid bare to another person was overwhelming.
“As expected, you still have a hymen. Your inner lips are a lovely shade of pink, too.”
Having my most intimate place described in detail was unbearably humiliating. Even I had never examined it so closely, yet now someone else was seeing everything. Even if it was my Master, this was too much.
“There’s a hole in the center of the hymen, so it should be possible. I’ll stimulate your cervix with this rounded, slender rod. It’s direct stimulation, so don’t be surprised. Just tell me how it feels.”
Isabel continued speaking as if she had no intention of hearing my opinion.
“Ugh, please be careful, at least.”
“Of course I will. The inside of the vagina is delicate.”
She coated the rod with a lotion-like liquid and carefully inserted it. The sensation of it moving inside, occasionally bumping against my walls, was entirely unfamiliar. As it searched for the right direction, it suddenly tapped against something deep within. That small stimulus made me acutely aware of the organ called the cervix. I couldn’t describe it precisely, but my instincts recognized it.
“Hmm, this seems to be the spot.”
“Yes, that’s it.”
“Then let’s begin.”
She started stimulating the area with the rounded tip of the rod. Rubbing gently, pressing firmly, and tapping lightly made my womb respond with heightened sensitivity. The pleasure wasn’t as intense as when I was struck, but the subtle, spreading sensation was considerable.
Ahh. Being stimulated like this felt good too.
“Huu, it feels similar.”
“Does it? To have this level of sensitivity without any prior development… Has your entire womb changed?”
“P-please stop stimulating it. I’m starting to feel strange again.”
“This place is difficult to develop, but once it is, it becomes incredibly rewarding. Its mechanism differs from ordinary erogenous zones, so simple touching usually doesn’t produce much sensation. Yet because your womb has become one, the difference is this pronounced.”
Each time she pressed down, pleasure bloomed. But because the stimulated area was small, the sensation remained subtle rather than surging sharply. Ah, it’s not enough. Even less than the pleasure I felt when being hit. My hand unconsciously moved toward my crotch, only to be stopped by Isabel’s sharp slap.
“Focus. Recall the sensation of your previous climax and feel the pleasure through your cervix alone.”
“Haa… please let me touch it.”
“Be good. Concentrate on the pleasure. Recall how it felt when you came and feel it together.”
At her gentle coaxing, the memory of climax naturally surfaced. The intense pleasure of orgasm. When I closed my eyes, the inner sensations became clearer, linking with the remembered ecstasy. The insufficient pleasure began to grow. Not just the stimulated spot, but my entire womb trembled with pleasure, helping me recall the climax.
“Good, you’re doing well. That’s it.”
“Haa, ngh.”
As the rising pleasure heated my body, a familiar pain bloomed at my neck. The usual drug was injected, making my mind grow hazier while the pleasure intensified. My body, approaching climax, tensed naturally, and my heart raced in anticipation. Just a little more and I would come. Just a little…
“Ah, I’m coming…”
“Stop.”
“Ah, ah?”
The stimulation ceased just before climax, leaving me stranded on the edge. Being stopped right before release was agonizing.
“W-why did you stop?”
“If you follow instructions, you’ll receive even greater pleasure. Now, we begin again.”
The fading pleasure returned, only to be cut off once more at the brink.
“Ah, ahh…”
“Hehe, your face soaked in pleasure is adorable. Again.”
I was subjected to the same torment repeatedly—brought to the edge and denied release.
“Please let me come!”
“What did I tell you about your tone?”
The agony of being unable to climax despite desperately wanting to was immense. The repeated pleasure-torture made it impossible to think clearly; I nearly screamed without realizing it.
“Not yet. Endure a little longer.”
“P-please…”
Cruelly, she gave me pleasure again. Pleasure without release had become pain. Ah, I’m coming. I’m coming.
“No. Stop.”
“Kyaa!”
“What did I teach you to call what I’m touching now?”
“My pussy!”
“And this?”
“My clitoris!”
Just before climax, a sharp pinch to my clitoris made release impossible. The pain exceeded any masochistic pleasure and was simply torment. From the repeated torture, my clitoris was already red and swollen.
“Hic, hic… please, I beg you.”
“What else are you supposed to say at the end of every sentence?”
“Please, I beg you, Master.”
“Don’t make mistakes. Again.”
Isabel’s tone had grown stern without my noticing. She continued the torture while demanding obedience. More drugs were injected than before, leaving my mind dangerously clouded. Faced with her frightening transformation, I could only desperately comply in hopes of escaping the torment.
“Kyaa!”
“No screaming until I permit it.”
“I’m sorry, Master!”
I gritted my teeth and endured the pain inflicted on my clitoris each time I neared climax. Tears streamed down my face from the pain and humiliation, yet I couldn’t make a sound.
“You only need to do as I say. Your answer?”
Slap, slap.
“Understood, Master.”
“You are my possession. Do you understand?”
Slap, slap.
“Understood, Master.”
“What are you to me?”
Slap, slap.
“Your possession, Master.”
Amidst the endless pleasure-torture, pain, and drug-induced haze, I answered mindlessly as ordered. Each response was accompanied by two sharp finger snaps, and the precisely controlled pleasure and pain gradually eroded my will to resist.
“Well done. Now I’ll reward you. Your answer?”
Slap, slap.
“Thank you, Master.”
At the sound of the finger snaps echoing in my ears, combined with the simultaneous stimulation of my cervix, clitoris, and pussy, I reached climax in an instant. Ah, I can’t endure this… My eyes rolled back as the overwhelming pleasure momentarily robbed me of consciousness. Yet the next wave of orgasm forced me awake again. My mind felt as though it were breaking under the unbearable ecstasy. I screamed mindlessly, my body convulsing as climax after climax crashed over me.
After drifting for a long while in the throes of orgasm, my consciousness began to stabilize under the gentle hand stroking my head and the voice that sounded like an incantation.
“Good girl. Accept it deep in your heart. If you submit to your Master, you can receive this kind of pleasure.”
Slap, slap.
“U-ugh…”
“Now answer. What are you?”
Slap, slap.
“Huu… I am Master’s possession.”
“Yes. Never forget that you are my possession.”
Slap, slap.
“Understood, Master.”
After that, I was made to climax repeatedly to the sound of finger snaps. Whenever the haze began to clear, Isabel injected more drugs. Now, just two finger snaps were enough to trigger a light orgasm while bringing thoughts of my Master.
“I’ll attach a token so you can remember you are my possession. Every day, recall me and remind yourself that you belong to me.”
With those words, Isabel fitted a small metal ring onto my clitoris. The slightly large ring shrank on its own until it held gently in place. Soon, a sharp pain accompanied the sensation of being pierced.
“This ring will continuously stimulate your clitoris. Get used to it.”
“Thank you, Master.”
I automatically offered my thanks and reached down to touch the ring. Thinking of it as Master’s token, the memory of the pain she had given me faded, replaced only by the ecstatic pleasure, making my body tremble.
“Remember. Until I give the signal, live as you normally would. Call me Isabel, not Master.”
“Understood, Master.”
I struggled to recall how I had treated my Master before, my memory already growing hazy, and answered. As she carefully wiped my body and dressed me with gentle hands, I felt gratitude and engraved her commands into my mind until my strength returned.
“Once angel training ends, come straight to me. Understood?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Good. Now go to the training facility. You must become an excellent angel.”
“Understood, Master.”
Receiving my kind Master’s send-off, I left the laboratory. Before I knew it, time had passed four o’clock while I was being loved by her. Registration at the training facility closed at six, so I needed to hurry.
The ring stimulated my enlarged clitoris, rubbing painfully against my panties and leaving me aroused, yet I endured and boarded the train. The education district lay adjacent to the research district where all manner of laboratories were gathered—positioned at the eleven o’clock direction if the immigration bureau was at six. It was a zone that ordinary Eden residents, unless assigned a role and receiving vocational training, rarely had reason to visit.
The angel training facility was a heavily secured mansion deep within the education district. The three-story mansion, straight out of a movie, was surrounded by walls and a beautifully maintained garden that made it truly stunning. A security robot stood at the main gate, blocking entry. As I approached, a mechanical voice requested identification and extended a hand. Unlike androids that resembled humans, the security robot—prioritizing practicality—scanned the proffered ID with a scanner mounted on its head, then stepped aside with precise movements to clear the path.
Even entering the garden itself required an ID assigned the angel role, which explained why no one else was visible. After crossing the garden and ringing the mansion’s bell, the door opened smoothly, and someone who appeared to be a maid greeted me.
“Welcome. We’ve been expecting you.”
“Hello.”
“I’ll escort you to the supervisor. Please follow me…”
The mansion’s hallways, where only our footsteps echoed softly, were adorned with numerous artworks, exuding splendor. Oh, that painting—it’s the famous work by the renowned artist often featured on TV. It couldn’t be a fake, could it? Distracted by the painting, I hurried to catch up with the maid who had gotten ahead.
After passing through marble corridors and stairs so pristine that walking on them felt burdensome, we arrived at the top floor. At the center of the uppermost level stood a door that was conspicuously ornate even within this already lavish mansion. It was carved with the image of a handsome man bearing a halo on his back, arms outstretched, surrounded by beautiful women of various appearances offering prayers. It depicted Eden’s God and angels, the same figures shown in the murals of the central district’s temple. The three-dimensional quality of the wood carving surpassed the flat painting, drawing even greater admiration.
The maid, standing respectfully before the door, spoke toward the interior.
“Supervisor, I’ve brought the angel trainee.”
“Come in.”
She opened the door without a sound and bowed her head. After returning the bow, I stepped inside. The door closed, leaving only the supervisor and me in the room.
The supervisor… I felt oddly tense. She was a middle-aged woman wearing a black dress. Her hair was pulled back in a perfect, sleek style with not a single strand out of place, and her cold expression and emotionless eyes made her seem more like a prison guard than an educator.
“Welcome. It’s been quite some time since two angel trainees arrived simultaneously.”
“Hello.”
“As one chosen by God, I trust you will approach your training with sincerity.”
The supervisor, whose initial cold expression seemed to have been an illusion, now wore a gentle smile as she explained the angel training. We would live in this mansion while learning everything about being an angel. The first week consisted of basic training, followed by three weeks of specialized training. Additional training could be added based on talent, and the program could be extended up to three months. During training, only designated clothing could be worn, most of the day was devoted to training, with meal times and a small amount of free time. It sounded remarkably similar to the military boot camps I had read about online.
“Change into the clothes in your assigned room and rest. Basic training begins tomorrow.”
“Yes.”
Though she was clearly smiling, there was an atmosphere that made it difficult to ask questions. Her face smiled, but her eyes did not—like a chef contemplating how to prepare an ingredient. The maid who had opened the door earlier guided me to my room. Among the many rooms on the second floor, I entered one. The doors all looked similar, so I tried hard to remember which was mine, worried I might forget. My memory was fickle—some things I remembered well, others I forgot immediately. I needed to stay sharp.
The space, reminiscent of the small rooms in the sun god cult’s convent I had seen on TV, was similar to a tiny studio with an attached bathroom. On the bed lay the clothes I had been told to change into, and a pair of black shoes sat on the floor. The garment was a simple dress with a waist tie. With this design, size wouldn’t be an issue—it would fit anyone. The shoes, somehow, were the perfect size for my feet. The heels were surprisingly high.
After removing the clothes I had arrived in and putting on the dress, there was nothing left to do. Still, I should stay quietly in my room. On my first day at the training facility, I wanted to avoid wandering around and getting lost. But the small room contained only a desk and a bed—nothing else. There wasn’t even a mirror.
Sitting on the edge of the bed in silence, all sorts of thoughts surfaced. Worries and anxiety about whether I could properly fulfill the angel role, thoughts of my Master rising unbidden from the pleasure emanating from my clitoris. Enough. In times like this, exercise is best. I sprang up and tossed aside the dress and shoes I had just put on.