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Unnamed Mousie - Part 1: The Longest Day - Chapter 5: Educated

© 2015 - 2018 Nameless

One by one we were ushered back into the barn. It was the central portion was brightly lit by lamps. Two Hessans removed the sack and the manacles. I stood and waited for a little while before a fur directed me to where I should kneel. Almost without thinking I arranged my body in the manner I had been taught and waited. I hardly felt the pebbles dig into my shins and knees, compared to the agony radiating from my cheek the pain they caused me was little more than an irritation. Slowly the pain became a little more manageable and I became more aware of my surroundings. They had put me in a different spot, I was on the same side of the barn, but in the second row now. Six mirrored oil lamps hung from hooks set into the far wall. The curved mirrors focused the light, each lamp bathing two of us (the fur in front of me and myself) in a circle of light. The lamps were offset slightly that so I would not be shaded by the shadow cast by the fur in front of me. The rest of the barn was in the dark. I could see our master and his assistants, but only barely, the bright light directed at me made it difficult to see much. When we had all been settled in and had been allowed to rest for a few minutes, the assistants (there were now two of them) picked up something from the table and returned to stand in front of us, one on each side of the barn. The assistant on our side pointed the short wand he carried at the first fur. Then he touched the branded cheek. The branded female didn't move, but she made low noises, urgent with her pain. Soon I realized that he had smeared some salve on the wound. I could see her muscles relax when he pointed the wand at her a second time. Then he moved to the fur behind her, repeating the procedure. When it was my turn the leaden feeling spread through my limbs once again. My cheek exploded with pain at his touch and I screamed as loudly as the magical bonds on my vocal cords allowed. But then the salve took effect and the pain receded. It was still bad but not quite as excruciating as it had been before. He watched me and when he judged that I had my limbs under control again he pointed the wand at me again and I felt the life return to my limbs. I looked up at him my eyes brimming with tears of pain but also gratitude. His smile was gentle but there was an edge of cruelty to it. Later, much later, I found out more about the salve. They had of course not applied it to reduce my pain, apart from wanting us able to function. Its main function was to keep the brand from becoming inflamed which might have disfigured our faces further. As it was, most potential customers, who would not know the true purpose of the brand, would see it as an exotic adornment, if a somewhat barbaric one. The salve also kept the burned skin somewhat supple and sensitive. While it lessened the initial pain, it ensured that the pain never stopped completely and that I would not be able to forget about the wound for a long time. I had not noticed them before, all my attention focused on the assistant, but now I noticed the rodent slaves. There were two of them, each one served the furs on one side of the barn. When I noticed her, she had just put a bowl in front of the female dog that knelt in the first row of the second column. The dog femme leaned forward to be able to lap up the contents of the bowl which raised her rear end high into the air. The rodent crawled around her and began to lap at her exposed thighs. The dog femme's limbs quivered and her tail swished once with irritation, but then she got herself under control and held still. The rodent teased her, using only the tip of her tongue. She licked the slick fur on the thighs and around the slit, but her tongue barely touched the quivering lips. Once the tip of her tongue touched the bottom of the slit, where the lips met and then slowly moved up all the way to the tailhole, circling it one and (I think, I couldn't see it well enough) poking the tip of her tongue into that hole for a moment. Then her tongue returned to the thighs, teasing them until the dog femme had lapped up the contents of the bowl. I had not been able to tear my eye (only one of them looked in that direction) away and with a start I realized that watching them had excited me and brought the fire in my belly to life once more. It was low, barely noticeable, but it had been kindled once again. The rodent crawled back to the front of the row, picked up the empty bowl and refilled it from a jug on the assistant's table. Then she returned, offering the bowl to the fur behind the dog. I couldn't really see what she was doing, but it seemed to be much the same. My arousal grew as I watched her service the next fur, the female weasel who had been the first to be branded. She was less than two paced in front and to the left of me. As the tongue teased her, I could smell her arousal mount. The scent was still relatively faint but there was no way I could ignore it. The musky scent only fanned the flames in my own belly higher. Again, I couldn't see what she was doing to the femme, in the second row, a feline, but I could smell the results well enough. And I realized that the faintest traces of her arousal had been noticeable long before, at least since the weasel had raised her ass to lap at the bowl. The heat in my belly got a lot worse when the rodent got to the fur in front of me. Not only was I much closer, it was a male, a canine of some sort. My breath caught when he leaned forward, raising his rear end. His ass was less than a pace in front of me, I could see everything, the small pink circle of bare skin around the tailhole and his male parts, shaved bare and clearly visible between the spread legs. He looked delicious and seemed to be almost more than half erect. And this close his musky male scent filled my nostrils and fanned the flames in my loins like a bellows. I cringed a little when I got a good look at the rodent female's behind. The fur on her ass was much sparser than on the rest of her body, except on her breasts, which seemed to be almost completely bare and it did nothing to hide the numerous welts that covered the tortured skin. Some were old, almost faded, but others were clearly fresh. There were so many! And it was not just her ass, the welts were much less obvious on the more thickly furred parts of her body, but once I started looking I could see them easily enough. Her back, her thighs and legs, even the soles of her feet had been whipped. The rodent slave did everything she could to give me a good show, she kept her head out of the way as much as possible. She didn't lick him from behind, but held her body low and raised her muzzle up as far as her neck allowed and extended her tongue. She licked his quivering thighs and the fur around his balls and member, teasing them for a few moments. His member hardened and the musky scent grew stronger and stronger. She even held her head off to the left when her tongue followed the line from his cock to the tailhole and circled that. This time I could clearly see the tip poking at the hole before she returned to teasing his thighs. I was panting slightly and both relieved and disappointed when he lowered his rear end once more. Mostly disappointed, given the chance I would have gladly licked his parts and more.

And then it was my turn. What was in the bowl was clearly not water. The smell and taste were somewhat familiar to herbal teas I had drunk before. The taste was not bad, but there were unpleasant undertones, still it tasted better than most medicines I had been given over the years. I didn't care, I lapped up with gusto, I was thirsty and the potion soothed my raw throat. Almost as soon as I had started lapping the fog in my mind began to dissipate. The rodent's tongue was very distracting, especially when it touched my lips or teased the sensitive skin between my slit and tailhole. I was very horny when the tongue finally pulled away after a last quick lick at my wet, puffed lips. I was really aroused now, not quite close to a climax, but not far either. When the rodent took away the empty bowl my mind was clear, completely, even unnaturally clear. Even the bone deep exhaustion from the many draining experiences that had been forced on me seemed to be fading. My senses seemed to expand, I thought I could separate the scents of arousal that wafted in the air around me, tell from which fur they were and exactly how aroused she (or he) was. And all of us were aroused, some more, some perhaps a little less, but all of us were horny enough to be eager to get laid, of that I was sure. When the rodent sisters were finished they returned to kneel besides and behind our master's chair. I was pretty certain that they were sisters, or more likely, half-sisters. Both of them had not been blessed by birth, while they were not really ugly, their features had the rough, almost unnatural look of mongrels. The first one, the one I had seen earlier, was a bit better off, the sire (assuming they shared a mother, which seemed more likely for slaves) had, while not a rat or mouse, been of a somewhat similar breed, like a rabbit or a squirrel. The other one seemed to have been sired by a canine, though that was at best an educated guess.

Our master clapped his paws and commanded, "Look at me." Obediently we turned our heads towards him. In his oily voice he went on, "Does it not feel good to shuck off all your problems? To start a fresh life, free of all the troubles of your past? Free of all worries and obligations. Free to concentrate on the one thing I know you desire more than anything: To serve me with your body and all of your heart and soul!" There were grumbles and other noises of protest, but all the noises we could make were so low as to be barely audible and indistinct. And I realized that while he was mocking us, loosing our past had been a terrible thing. But he was right about one thing: my past was over. Even if he removed my collar and let me just walk out of here, there was nothing left for me. With the brand of the evil moon on my cheek no decent fur would talk to me or help me. The only chance at living free that I could see was to join a band of outlaws. But I had seen what sorry excuses for furs those were. My unit had spent about a month in the woods hunting them. We had flushed out and caught a small band. Most of them had been half-starved, mangy and flea-ridden. Killing them had felt more like putting them out of their misery, it had almost seemed a mercy. Besides, I still had enough decency left that I didn't want to prey on the weak and innocent. During our search we had seen some of the bandit's victims, poor farmers mostly. They had been raped, maimed, tortured and even killed. No, I would rather die. Slavery, while not a good choice, was preferable to doing that. With a start I realized that there were no Hessan guards in the barn, at least none that I could see. For a moment I wondered if this would give me chance at escape. But then I realized that the guards were completely unneeded. As long as we wore the collars our master could crush any resistance with a single wave of his little wand. Besides, what would we do, even if we managed to run away? For another, I was certain at least a few of the Hessans were close, just out of view but ready to lend a paw or fist at a moment's notice.

After a short pause to let that sink in, our master went on as if he had not heard, "You are free of all shackles of the past." Here his oily grin turned downright evil and he chuckled. His voice low, barely audible, he added, "Even your old name." "My name." I thought, "I'm still me, you can't change that, you bastard. I'm..." Suddenly I realized that I could not remember my name! The memory was there, I could feel it, but it stayed tantalizingly out of my reach, no matter how hard I tried. Panic filled my mind. And I was not the only one, the sounds of distress could be heard from all around me. But nobody moved, not much anyway, because our master suddenly had the wand in his paws, pointed threateningly. Nothing happened but the mere sight of it cowed us. When he was sure we had all calmed down he went on, "Now you are free to focus on your future. To please me, to learn my will. In time you will learn how to please me perfectly. You are free to do that, but it is your choice. I will not force my will on you. I will guide and instruct you, but only if you desire it." We all knew the truth of the matter, it was rather laughable for him to claim that, but there was nothing we could do. He was forcing his will on us, little by little, using means we could not fight. The tortures the collar could inflict, the control it had over our bodes were not readily apparent, but no less real. He had let us ponder that for a long moment and then he asked, "Who wishes to learn? To be instructed, trained and corrected when needed? Well?" I stared at him, but not for long. I felt a little pressure from the collar, a tiny little thing, no more than a warning finger touching your muzzle lightly. But the threat was there. A few moment later the pressure increased, only a little bit but clearly perceptible. I'm not sure who got the point first and submitted, I wasn't the first but I was far from the last. One by one at first and then in a rush we assumed the begging position. As soon as my face touched the ground the collar loosened. I grunted from the pain and twisted my head a little to keep my burned cheek as far away from the ground as possible. A few of us held out longer, but eventually every one of us submitted to the choking of her collar. I could not tell for sure, but I think our master remained sitting while his assistants accepted our submission. When the shoes appeared in front of my muzzle I lapped at them for a good minute, bobbing my head a little, trying to show (or at least pretend to show) as much enthusiasm as I could. The slapping noises had started well before then. A little nudge by one of by the departing shoes told me to get back into a kneeling position. Our master was still sitting but now his legs were spread wide. The two rodent slaves knelt in front of him in the begging position, each one licking one of his shoes. He had his whip in the right paw and used it liberally, alternating between the two slaves, whipping them wherever he could reach easily, their backs, thighs and especially rumps. Once or twice one of then flinched a little, my stomach knotted for a moment when I realized that it was when he let the strands of the whip wrap around her ass to torture her lower lips and the even more sensitive skin on the inside of her slit.

When we had all expressed our submission properly our master turned his attention back to us. After that he stopped whipping then randomly, but used the whip every now and then to emphasize a point of his speech. "I am pleased to see that you are so eager to serve me, my pets, and I accept your gift. I know you want nothing but to please me as best as you can. I also know that many slaves, though most eager and willing, are held back by old preconceptions, they are held back by old and useless rules about how they should behave. Often they find it hard to shake off the shackles of the past. Some furs find that they have to struggle, some have to force themselves to overcome these hurdles. Many need outside help to shake off long ingrained behavior. To aid you in this I will try give you as many opportunities to express your devotion to me as I can." "I will make you an offer, one that might seem strange, and that will be unpleasant, sometime even painful or perhaps humiliating for you, but that will give you many opportunities to express your devotion, even your love for me, your master. My offer is this: You will only get the most basic necessities of life, but you will have you beg for anything more, for little every perk. Sometimes I will set you tasks you have to complete. These tasks will teach you many wonderful things about yourself, your body, your heart and your desires and many other interesting things. My intention in this is never to hurt you or to force you to do anything, but to help you by giving you the pressure needed for you to bring yourself to overcome your limits. When you fail I will encourage you and give you the aid you need to advance. I promise I will encourage you, I will not stop until you succeed. I will give you the discipline you require. Well, do you desire this?" My mind boggled at his ability to force us to humiliate ourselves. Not only would we have to serve him in many undoubtedly humiliating and painful ways, we would have to make it seem as if it was all our idea. With morbid certainty I figured that my tongue would soon be cramping from all the licking it would have to do. I hissed in anger, but I could not deny that he was slowly wearing all my defenses. I assumed the begging position before the collar tightened a second time. Once more his assistants walked along our still ranks. This time, before they 'let' us express and accepted our submission, they touched each one of us, to remind us of things we (or at least I) would have rather have forgotten. The finger touched my tailhole and then moved slowly downwards, towards my slit, pulling away just after it reached my slit, with only the lightest touch on my the sensitive flesh of my lips. With a start I realized that I was still aroused and wet, had been all the time and now the light, short touch had fanned my desire to new heights. While his assistants made their rounds the sounds of our master's renewed assault on the poor rodents filled the air.

When had all expressed our 'eagerness' to be taught and punished and we were all looking at our master once more, he went on, "I know that there is much you desire to learn. There is so much to tell! Unfortunately the hour grows late and we have only so much time before it is time to turn in for the night. I will give you a first task so you can express and test your devotion to me. So I will keep this as short as I can and tell you only the most important things you have to know to succeed at this task:" "I, and others you will serve in my stead, do usually enjoy it when a slave teases them. But they also expect you to fulfill any desires you have raised with your teasing. Once you start a task you finish it, even if your master changes details or expresses additional wishes for you to fulfill. Never ask or beg for a task if you have no intention of finishing it." As aroused as I was my mind was clear; the arousal and the pain, especially from my cheek, were distractions, but I could still think clearly, at least most of the time. His meaning was clear enough, he would set a simple task to be completed for a perk and then it would turn out we would have to do much more, most likely much more humiliating and painful. And if we balked, we would not only loose the perk but be punished as well. "Second, you will accept all the gifts your master gives you, especially the bounty of his body, whatever it might be. Refusing such gifts would be show great disrespect." At first that didn't sound too bad, I had sucked or licked up cum from both males and females and rarely found it unpleasant. I had no idea how a human would taste but I did not think it would be much different. But then I gagged a little when I remembered just how bad his soiled shoes had tasted and realized what other 'gifts' of his body we might have to lap up. Suddenly the last part sounded a lot more disgusting and unpleasant. "Also, never lie, not to yourself and especially not to your master. Do not lie about your feelings and the needs of your body or heart. Let your master know how much you desire him. And finally, of course, please your master and obey his every whim. Do you have any questions?" There were none, we still could not speak, after all and he ignored the few noises we made.

"There is a small matter that we should take care of: You just started a new life, your old is forgotten. You have no name, yet it will make things easier for all of us if we have something to call you. In time you might earn a slave name, but that is for the future. Some masters use descriptive terms and while our noble hosts have offered many excellent and fitting suggestions, calling all of you 'slut', 'cunt' or 'bitch' isn't all that helpful." "Still I have a solution: When I accepted your offer to serve me, you earned a place in my company and a bunk to sleep in. I will simply call you by the name of the wagon and the number of the bunk. Mind you, that is not a name, just a tag to make things easier for all of us." Hearing that hurt, in my soul it hurt more than brand hurt my cheek. My old name was gone and I would not even get a new one, just a tag, something to be called. He pointed at my side of the barn, "Everybody on this side will stay in wagon Aleph, those on the other side in wagon Betha. You (here he pointed at the fur closest to him on my side) will now answer to 'Aleph One', you (pointing at the fur behind her) will answer to 'Aleph two'. And so on. My assistants will now tell each one of you your tag and inscribe it on the collar. They will show you what the symbols look like, remember them well." "Also, starting tomorrow, you will learn Peshan. I tire of speaking your barbaric tongue and soon I will give all my commands in Peshan. I expect you to understand them and to answer in a civilized tongue." The two assistants came forward. I had already figured out that I was number eight, so my tag was 'Aleph Eight'. The assistant touched the small wand to the collar and I felt a light tingle. I could not see the mark on my own collar, but I could see those of the furs kneeling on the other side of the barn, one symbol appeared on each side of the disk. The assistant told me my tag, once in my tongue and then in Peshan, repeating it twice. It sounded something like 'Aleph Och'. The squiggly symbols on the scroll were unknown to me but I did my best to remember them, certain that I would be punished if I forgot them. They looked like '?8'.

Having tagged all of us, the assistants returned to their table. Through all this, our master had continued to torture the rear of the hapless rodents with his whip. Their buttocks were bloodshot, bright pink and crisscrossed with countless red and purple stripes. Their quiet, almost completely suppressed grunts and moans of pain came more frequently than before. The whipping stopped for a moment and then our master asked, "Do you desire more punishment, my recalcitrant pets?" obviously addressing the two. Speaking almost in unison, the two answered, "Yes, Master please punish us." I shivered when heard their voices, more from the tone than the words, their voices were flat, devoid of any emotions or hope but at the same time the pain they struggled not to show was clearly evident. "As you wish, my little pelts." He brought the whip down hard, twice, once on each butt cheek and then once more, right in the center. The last stroke elicited a short howl of extreme pain. A moment later he repeated this sequence of strokes on the second femme.