Well, I'm not sure how this will be perceived, but I hope its liked. I plan on updating soon.
A Woman's World
He absolutely deserved everything he gets. He truly believed it to be true. That is why no matter how hungry he gets, no matter how much she hurts him, he would never leave her. He would never breathe a word of what happen to him at the hands of this woman to the constables nor any level of the law. He is a man and his place is underneath a woman.
Eighteen year old Damon Southern, pressed his bare back into the metal wall of the 'box' - a metal hole in the ground he found himself in often lately for mistakenly partaking undesirable behaviors. He had been in for so long now his mouth felt as if it were swollen and filled with sand. What was left inside of his stomach sloshed around and rose up his tight throat, but was quickly swallowed back down. His lady had left him inside much longer then usual.
A high pitch squeal sent an ache through his left ear. His eyelids squeezed shut as blinding mid-afternoon sunlight enters the once inky, black area filling it whole. Sweat glistened down his angular jaw, causing his midnight black hair to stick against his reddened face.
"Times up," Soon his eyes adjusted accordingly with the brightness and 'she' comes into focus. Thin, rawboned, with long narrow limps and sickly wan skin. Her pink lips were lean and pressed, blue irises narrowed in disgust and glaring contempt. "Come on now, boy, you smell like crap."
Quickly the young man scrambled fully onto his feet and reached up, fingers digging into the baked red dirt above the outer-rim and pulled himself out of the 'box'. Deep, raw, angry gashes along his back stretched with his movements. He barely winced at the agony coursing along his spine, use to it. Once out, the boy kept his head bowed, his muscles tensed. He wasn't allowed to look his mistress directly in the eye. Ever. He had learned such a rule early.
"I told you, you smell like crap. Inside, and wash the filth off you." She hissed like a deadly viper preparing to strike. He needed not be told more than once. He quickly moved, ducking his head further as he limped his way to the cottage at the top of the farmland's hill.
He entered a back door and into a small kitchen and quickly moved his worn limps through it and into a hall, and up a flight of stairs, into the hall bathroom. He flipped on the light, which flickered unwillingly on, in the bathroom, flanked by dark wooden walls and basic bathroom accessories.
"Now there's mud in my house," The woman's voice floated up between the cracks in the floorboards, his body flinches. With shaking hands, he turns on the water and begins removing his pants and underwear, "Fuck." She curses.
The boy silently prays she's not upset enough to do anything. Naked, Damon steps into the tub and began washing himself quickly, allowing the nearly scolding water to wash over his body. He's just finished washing his hair when she bursts into the bathroom, eyes wild and large in that way he never likes. He quickly backed away, his body slapping into the tile behind him. Damon dryly swallowed, his body shook as he took quick breaths. She forced a picture into his face, a picture of two smiling little girls and his father sitting on the fence which ran down Allison's small bit of property.
"You're why they aren't here." The woman yelled. "You took my daughters from me and killed your own father. You're trash, filthy, no good trash." The woman slaps him upside his wet head. "You're lucky I took you in. You're lucky I didn't let you rot in the boiler."
Pressing his back into the tile further, his body shudders. "I'm sorry." He whimpered, looking at the ground. He watched as streams of water, whirl and whirl, before vanishing, seeping through the tiny drain below him. "I'm sorry..." He truly meant it.
The woman slapped him upside the head again, her blue irises like ice blades cutting into him. Finally she took a breath. "You deserve everything you get. You believe that?" Her voice took on a softer tone. It was how it always was. His body began to relax a little, though he was aware that what would follow next wouldn't be good.
"Yes, Mi'lady," He nodded eagerly, answering without any hesitation.
He wasn't born into the male pet-trade, no, he had lived with an abusive mother and a submissive father, a normal family dynamic actually. But his mother, who had been excessively cruel, had belonged to a well-to-do family, who was important to the Women's Republic, the oldest of five girls. She had been furious when his father was unable to impregnate her with a daughter - because having female children meant you were important, blessed, only having male children was basically a curse.
Which is why is mother sold all his younger brothers after him, barely days after birth. Then eventually, when he was nine years old, his mother sold he and his father away to this woman. His father was able to give this woman daughters shortly after arriving, which upped a poor woman such as herself up a few notches in society. But then something happened, something that was all his fault, that cost his father and his baby sisters their lives.
"You wouldn't ever betray me would you, Damon?" Her hand raises again and he flinched, only this time her hand lands softly on his wet face, tucking strands of dripping hair behind his ear.
"Never, Mi'lady."
Her hands fall from his face to his chest. "That's a good boy." She coos, stepping into the tub with him.
(O)
Waking up beside the Allison Southern had become a common occurrence. He no longer feels how he once had, waking up beside his her, her arms wrapped around his waist, as he had when he was fifteen and it first began - after all he was to give her a daughter. His disgust had been buried. His shame had been forsaken. Now he felt numb. Settling into his fate, the one he was born into. Though if he had remained in his mother's household, his life may have been better. Becoming a 'husband' to a rich woman, she may have been abusive and cold, but their are certain rules in the higher class. His father had apologized daily for yanking him away from a dull yet ideal future. Here on Allison Southern's farm, there were no rules, no eyes watching. No rules made to be enforced.
Sliding from underneath the woman's arm, he untangled himself from the thin sheets and slid into a pair of black sweats. He then silently slid from the bedroom and made his way down the quiet hall and downstairs, tugging a hand quickly through his messy black hair.
He began a pot of coffee and rummaged through their refrigerator for his needed ingredients for Allison's breakfast. While the meal cooked, he cleaned, starting in their kitchen and bleeding out into the living room. He's careful to not leave a speck of dust.
Allison appeared in kitchen's doorway, wrapped in a pink robe, thin blonde hair up in a bun. She yawns and sits down at the breakfast table. Quickly, Damon fixes her a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast and places it before her. He then pours her a cup of coffee as well as a glass of juice.
Then he took a step back, waiting at her side in case the woman needed anything else. She took a bite of toast, chewing slowly.
"Have you finished your morning chores?" She asked, picking up a book at her side, flipping through it.
"Not yet..." He uncomfortably shifts on his feet.
"Why not..." Her gaze never left the book.
His body tensed more. He was always aware of when the woman was leading him into a trap. "I... I can finish it now if - "
"No," she waved her hand. "I want you to meet with Mrs. Donald later."
His stomach churned and he finally looked up at her. "Wh - " He took a calming breath, stopping himself from saying something stupid and speaking out of turn. "I don't think I can," Mrs. Donald, a fifty something year old woman - a friend of Allison's from 'church'.
Allison leaned back in the chair, bringing the book with her. "Oh, you can and you will." Her gaze flits to him and he looked away. "She's willing to pay 1500 this time, for an hour. You better last that long." It was illegal, selling him to other woman for pleasure, but their were no rules out here.
"I..."
"Rub her crusty feet, tell her she's pretty... whatever it takes. It's an hour Damon." She narrowed her eyes. "It isn't like this is your first rodeo, buddy." She huffed. "Do you have a problem with this, Damon?"
He quickly shook his head.
"Good," she got to her feet. "I'm not hungry anymore." The woman gets to her feet. "We're going into town." His hard-worked on meal is left cold on the table.
(H)
Allison had a old, dented truck, splattered in mud, which was impossible to clean and also broke-down daily. He was an expert at fixing it by fifteen. He closed down the hood with a loud pop and wiped his hands on a dirty, blue rag from his back pocket. He glanced towards the impatient Allison sitting on the truck's passenger side, her narrow frame visible and on display in her bright yellow sundress. She tapped red, brightly painted finger-nails against the door.
With a collecting breath, Alex pushed his oil rag back into the back pocket of his jeans and slid back into the car. He turned its switch and it loudly roared alive. He then swung his door shut and pulled it into gear before pulling back onto the narrow road which led into town.
When the narrow road became wider and more homes and business pop up, Damon scratches at his neck, fingers grazing across the branding tattoo around his neck. It was how the women kept men in check, with a word. A word which caused leg weakening agony. It has been around for over a century, it has broken millions of spirits. It was how the treaty came about, the one that now separated what was once North America, into two separate countries - Men's Republic and Women's Republic. The war which caused it all was once a nuclear war, but then a race war, before finally settling on a gender war years later.
After nearly two hours of driving, they enter into the city - Women's Philadelphia. Damon lightly tapped his finger on the truck's steering wheel, nail digging into the worn, peeling leather, waiting on Allison to tell him what to do. Overhead he could hear the low hum of military BSAs flying through the air patrolling the city, keeping the citizens safe. He took his gaze off the dark gray road for a second, hoping to catch a glimpse of the armored body suits. When he had been younger, being able to adorn one of those light-metal suits and sore freely above the clouds had been a dream of his, learning to fight and fly, be brave. But with being sold his dream, the one thing good about being born male in a world for women, had slipped between his fingers. If he had remained in the home of his mother he would have been a soldier and a husband, but with Allison he was simply registered under farm-hand. If he were to become a soldier it would be because of another war and a draft, even then he would be a foot-solider and never even come close to commanding a BSA.
"Pull into there," The woman pointed out a small parking area nestled between two tall buildings.
Thirty minutes later Damon stood rigidly inside a high-end clothing store, as he waited on Allison to exit a dressing booth. His gaze lingered on the clothing around him, all of it was expensive, much to expensive for Allison's farmer budget. But it wasn't his place to say. He would pay either way when she became stressed over her lack of money at the end of the week.
A sigh left his lips, blue eyes dulling.
"Tyler, dear, will you tell me which one I should try on?"
His attention turned and settled on a female and male a few feet away from him. The female had light blonde hair and was wearing a green sundress. She had obviously come from the higher part of society, the male beside her proved it. He was dark-haired and muscular, dressed in a clean button up blue and black shirt with black pants wrapped around long legs. He looked clean and well-looked after and Damon suddenly feel self-conscious in his dirty jeans and flannel. Though he had showered yesterday, he was sure he was filthy because of his work a few hours ago on Allison's car.
But it wasn't the way the tall, ebony haired boy had been dressed which had given away the woman's standings in society, no, it was the complicated branding lines on his neck, not like his basic ones, this boy's are complicated, a family brand surely. Whoever she was, she was important.
"The orange one would be lovely on you, Mi'lady." The boy answered his mistress. She lightly smirked and winked playfully.
"Exactly what I was thinking," She grabbed the orange and yellow dress, draping it over her shoulder. "Then, we'll find you something matching for Bonnie's birthday. Stay out here while I try these on."
Tyler smiled, a real, stress-free smile. Damon had never seen a male truly smile at a woman before. "Yes, Mi'lady." Both the woman and male headed his way, towards the fitting rooms. When the woman's gaze landed on him, he quickly looked away, his heart clenching in his chest. Why had he even been staring? He mentally prayed she wouldn't have a fit about it. His worry grew when the girl stopped short and openly looked him over. She made a considering noise before turning and heading into one of the fitting rooms. A breath he had no idea he was holding left him in a rush.
He glanced at the boy who has stopped beside him a few feet away. The boy glances at Alex as well, eyes flitting over him, lingering likely on the bruise on his cheek and on his filthy clothing, only to look away a second later.
Not a word is shared between them. Damon looked away a second later after noticing a gold band on the boy's finger, he was a 'husband', likely to the girl. No wonder he was being treated so kindly.
Allison quickly exited the fitting area, dressed in a too tight crimson colored dress. It was showing off too much of her at forty years of age. It was unflattering.
"How do I look, Damon?"
Lie. His mind screams for him to lie. He forced a tight-lipped smile onto his face. "Go - Good, Mi'lady." She found a mirror and began looking herself over.
"Of course I look good." She lightly scoffed.
Damon pressed his lips together. A second later, Tyler's lady exits the fitting room, flanked in the beautiful orange and yellow dress.
Tyler whistled, "lovely."
"Why thank you," she twirled, giggling a little. The girl's attention moved to Damon again, catching him staring yet again, a mischievous glint comes to her blue eyes. "How do you think I look?"
His stomach sank and his breath hitched inside him. Tyler looked at him once again and Allison who had been entertained by staring at her own reflection turned as well. Seeming to finally notice others around her, her face grew pale, upon looking at the girl.
"Caroline Fords," Allison stuttered. Fords... Fords... why is that name familiar? Damon pondered. "It's nice to see you again." Fords, Mayor, Elizabeth Fords mayor of Women's Virginia .. she's the mayor's daughter. Suddenly Damon felt ill. Allison sharp blue eyes find him, her face nearly as red as the unflattering outfit. "Is he causing you any trouble? If he is I can punish him."
Damon's body tensed.
Caroline shook her head, a small smile on her face. "No, he's fine. Only... he hasn't answered my question yet. I have a very flimsy ego, don't I, Tyler?" Allen nodded.
"You look beautiful," The black haired boy blurted
Caroline smiled. "Beautiful you say..." Her gaze fell onto Allison. "You have a charmer on your hands." Caroline 's eyes traveled up and down Allison's body. "You should possibly try something more age appropriate." With that, with utter seriousness, as if she was seriously giving the older woman advice, Caroline vanished back into the fitting room.
Allison was left behind, red face, anger rolling off her in waves. Her gaze found Damon again. He took a half-step back.
"You said I looked good in this, Damon." She growled. In a second, she is before him. He flinched as she yanked at his shirt collar, bringing him to her height. "You're in deep shit when we're back on the farm." She whispered into his left ear. She then let go of him and whirled around, vanishing back into the fitting room.
His legs wobbled like jelly as strength left them and gloom settled over him. He wanted nothing more then to run. God, he wished he could run. But he wouldn't get very far, his collar would lay him on his ass once a hundred yards from Allison. Running would only cause him more anguish.
He could feel eyes on him and glanced up at Tyler who is watching him closely. Damon looked away first, trying to mentally steel himself for what was coming.
(O)
On the walk back, he trailed behind Allison, his head down. He couldn't afford anymore trouble and was hell-bent on staying out of it all. Soon the crowd began to swell on the widened sidewalk, with the mid-afternoon crowds, but even more congested.
Allison cursed and loudly complained. People excitedly talked. As they wait to cross the cross-walk, a woman was speaking excitedly with another.
"She turned sixteen months ago and refuses to take a pet." A plump woman explained to a much skinner one. "Her sister has decided picking one for her is the way to go. So, I heard she's at the city square looking for males in-between the ages of sixteen and twenty. I would have brought my son but the lazy pig has a cold and looks like hell." She huffed the last words.
The thin woman scoffed. "Isn't that a little unconventional?" She asked. "I thought those families picked pets from some type of special breeding store?"
The fat one lightly shrugged, her large floral hat glinting in the over head sunlight.
Allison's attention had gone to the women. "Who are you talking about?"
The fat woman crinkled her nose as if Allison stunk, but hence the woman could not even hold herself from gossiping. "The Bennetts..." The woman said. "As in the family who created inking collars. One of the most well-off families in all Women's republic."
Allison hummed feigning disintrest. "How much are they willing to pay?" Damon frowned at the ground, having no idea how to feel.
"I dunno," the woman snapped. "But I heard for Lucy Bennett, her male was two million dollars. But he was from one of those training centers so..."
The cross walk light turned a bright green and Allison darted across it, he followed. Instead of going left, the woman goes right, towards the city's center. The number of people only swell as they grow closer.
Allison forced him to bend and she combed her fingers quickly through his hair. "If I would have been told about this, I would of made you take a shower." She huffed and glared at a woman who had bumped into her. "Watch it, lady." She tugged at his shirt, buttoning the last few buttons. "It'll have to do." she flips her hair over her shoulder. "You better hope they pick you, for your sake. Try to look a little less ugly, smile... come-on..."
He forced a smile onto his lips, and wondered how he was suppose to be less ugly. All he's been told his whole life was how ugly he was, by his mother and Allison. He had no doubt, he wouldn't be chosen. High society females only wanted good-looking males.
His smile fell away, as soon as Allison turned and grabs his arm, yanking him towards the line of waiting males. It took nearly two hours before they were even close enough to get a glimpse of the important family.
There's a dark-haired, dark skinned woman, sitting in a plush chair, a fair black-haired man was behind her, massaging her shoulders. She looked bored and was waving boys and young men away without actually looking at them. She nibbled at a bright crimson apple, held in her light brown hands.
A few feet away, under a tent at a table were two younger dark-haired females. One was a little girl, barely ten, hair in two long, thick braids going down her back, scribbling in a notebook, while the other was a teenager, at least fifteen, gaze on a thick leather book. Both had a striking resemblance to the unhappy woman in the chair.
He was unsure how to feel. He was certain he wouldn't be chosen. He had nothing to offer a family such as this one, but leaving Allison sounded promising. He was sure his treatment wouldn't be much better, but they had rules. At least he wouldn't have to sleep with anyone besides his lady. At least all his punishments would be behind locked doors. At least he would have to do something wrong first... ideally.
"Don't you screw this up." Allison hissed. "You do not want to go home with me."
The boy nodded quickly in agreement and understanding. They were about ten males away when the woman huffed, tossing her apple onto the ground. "I've had abou - " She cut herself off, hazel eyes landing on... Damon.
He froze and she frowned. Then a smile began to spread across her face, as she lightly shrugged hands off her and stood. Wearing a flowing yellow dress, she walked in his direction towards him. Quiet whispers started-up, as nearly everyone turned and looked at him. Alex swallowed hard.
"Don't you mess up..." Allison hissed under her breath again.
Lucy stopped in front of him, hazel irises studied him from his head down. "Perfect..."
"He is - "
Lucy cut Allison off by turning around. "Bonnie, will you please come over here?" The teenager with the book is the only person not to look at them, noticeably sighed, fingers going to pinch the bridge of her nose.
Then the teen stood, she's wearing a yellow dress, a darker shade then her cousin's, as well as shorter. Her wavy, black hair is down, framing an unhappy face. The girl headed over, slowly.
Lucy sighed, attention returning to Damon, who was still frozen, gaze locked on the ground.
"How old is he?" The woman asked Allison, still studying him.
"Eighteen..." Allison blurted. "He's - "
"Is he your son?"
Allison licked her lips. "No, he came with his father when I bought the man." Damon has to stop himself from flinching as the woman grabbed his chin, lifting his face up. He accidentally met her gaze.
"He's good-looking, wouldn't you say so, Bonnie?" Good-looking? She turned to the young woman who had arrived finally. The younger wealthy woman looked less then impressed.
"No"
"Oh come on, Bons, he cannot tell me you don't think he's good-looking." The woman whines, like a child, surprising him. He thought the upper class was suppose to be more stoic and professional.
Bonnie sighed. "What is your point?"
"I like him," she explained. "Yo- "
"Well, it is nice if you like him," Bonnie huffed. "You should add him to your wide collection of males."
"He's a little young for me, honey." Lucy smirked. "We've been out here all day. Aren't you tired? I promised our grandmother I would find you a pet before your seventeenth birthday. I'm willing to stay out here all day."
Bonnie's eyes widened. "I want to go home." The girl whined this time and stomps her small foot. "It's nearly night-time. I have classes in the AM..."
"Well, pick a pet. If you don't want him, you'll have to pick one from the others." She told her cousin. "I don't care. I want out of this place as much as you do. You should have chosen a male from MT and been done with it."
"But I don't want one!" The girl crossed her arms, pouting.
"No choice, but you do have one, you can have him, if not, we can continue to look at others."
Bonnie frowned before quietly sighing. "I'll take him, I don't care." With that the girl walked away.
Lucy sighed but seemed pleased, her attention fell on Allison. "We'll take him, follow me and we can discuss details."
Thirty minutes later, Allison dropped a drop of her blood into a bottle of clear solution, then dips a clean rag into the bottle, wetting it. Then, she ordered Damon still, and began wiping his neck with it, and soon, the black lines began to vanish from his neck.
"Hold your hair back," she ordered. The boy does as ordered, searching himself for a way to feel. He felt numb, as usual. "You're a lucky bastard." Allison whispered. "Your someone else problems now." She lowered her voice. "You thought living with me was bad... wait until they turn on you. Now your like a new toy but... you're unlovable, you taint everything that's close to you. Look what happened with your father. I was kind and kept you out of the boiler, remember my kindness to you and what you took from me." The woman took a step back, as a man steps forward, and quickly clamped chains around his wrists.
Damon never looked up, letting his hair fall back into his face. Then she's gone, like that. The woman who had for so long tormented him, left.
"Come," he looked up briefly at Lucy Bennett, before his gaze falls to the ground again. "We're leaving now." He climbed onto his feet and followed her
(O)
Their home was like a palace, huge, with smaller homes sprouting up across the acres of land. Sculptured bushes, green hills, big white horses lounging in a pasture is what he first noticed. Damon rode in the car with the blank-faced black-haired man, while the women rod in a car ahead of them. The man offered up no words and Damon doesn't offer any of his own. He noticed a ring on the man's finger however. A husband.
When they finally pull into a round driveway, in front of the largest home on the land, his stomach churned. He finally feels something, and it's fear. He understood how to behave around Allison, but this was foreign. This house would be very different.
The man shuts the car off and quickly slid out and rushes to the car in front of them, opening its door for Lucy. Damon fumbled with the handle of his door, letting himself out. His chains rattle as he closes the car door behind him. He watched as the family exits the car, his Mistress - Bonnie - looks annoyed, barely acknowledging his presence. The little one though, she openly grins at him and walks to him.
"What's your name? My name is Hanna, but everyone calls me Han." She blinked up at him innocently with identical hazel eyes of Lucy and he was unsure how to respond.
"Ic... Damon. My name is Damon." He told her softly and looked up nervously. Bonnie was watching, her face unreadable.
The child noticed him looking at her aunt. She waved her hand in a dismissive manner. "Oh, don't mind her... she acts tough, but honestly she's a big softy. You could probably walk all over her if you really want to. She hates having a pet. Mother says she's an idealist..." The child stuck her small tongue out at the older girl who obviously had over-heard, if her glare was any clue. "But you should stay away from Katherine, she's Bonnie's cousin and she hates men." She whispered loudly.
Damon blinked
"My sweet little talkative, Han." Lucy walked over, wrapping an arm around her daughter. "You should head on in for your bath..."
"Mom..." the child whined. "I am not five. I can take a shower."
"My point is, my dear, go inside."
The child huffed but listens to her mother, following the black-haired man inside, grabbing his hand as she went. Her father maybe, Damon thought.
The woman looked up at him and he looked down, stiffening. "Will you come over here, my cousin?"
Bonnie huffed. "I have to study."
"He cannot come inside until you brand him." Lucy reminded. "He'll have to remain in the yard until you do."
"I don't care." The teen shrugged. She began to head inside.
Her sister huffed. "Bon!" The woman yelled after her, following after her. "You have to brand him, damn it."
He was left alone outside, unsure what to do with himself.
(O)
Damon sat on the grass in front of a row of hedge bushes, watching as the orange horizon bled black and lights flickered on inside the mansion. No one came for him but he waited. His legs drawn against him, he counts the windows of the home. A couple of low humming BSAs had flown overhead an hour before and vanished behind the house, which had kept his attention for a little while. The Bennetts were a military family, most important families in the Women's Republic were, meaning most clan members and all belonging males were military soldiers.
He thought of his young dream of commanding a BSA. Was it a possibility again?
It became colder, but he's used to being outside in the cold. Besides, it wasn't too cold. It was summer after all. About an hour after sunset, his new mistress appeared in one of the window, looking at him from above with a frown for a few seconds before leaving again. She appeared again two hours later and left again, then another hour she appeared once again. Then, she appeared on the fifth hour outside this around, face less than thrilled.
"Seriously," she huffed. She quickly walks towards him. Damon scrambled onto his feet, his head bowed. She crossed her arms, she glared at him. "I didn't even want you."
He tensed. "I'm sorry." He apologized, worry claws at him. She hated him already. He tried thinking of how to fix this.
She's quiet for a long time. He had been expecting to be hit. Instead, she loudly sighed
"Follow me, I don't have time for this." Quickly she turned, leading him into the large home. The boy keeps his head down as he followed and stared at glistening marble floor. Bonnie's movements are quick, unfaltering as she leads him down halls.
Finally they reached an empty room, the only object inside being a metal table. "Have a seat on the table." The girl ordered. She flipped her black hair over her shoulder and vanishes through another door. Damon lifts himself onto the table, chains rattling. He looked around, unsure what exactly this room was for.
A few minutes go by before the tiny young woman appeared again, flanked in a dark robe. She carried a heavy looking black bag. Her dark hair was up in a tight bun at the top of her head. She let the bag fall onto the table beside him, opened it and looked inside. The first thing the girl removed was a blade, which caused him to flinch away, she glanced at him, before also removing a bottle of branding ink from the bag and a branding needle. He calmed when he finally realizes what's going on.
She unscrewed the lid off the ink bottle, before grabbing the blade and slicing her finger. She barely twitched as she allowed a drop of blood into the bottle. Then, setting the blade onto the table, the girl picked the bottle up, her lids closing. She began to mumble.
The boy frowned, he had never seen that before. Allison had never mumbled over anything when she had branded him. The ink bottle began to glow blue, he watched in amazement, not even realizing he was staring so boldly, not until her more green then hazel eyes popped open and locked with his.
He looked away quickly after a few seconds.
"My family created brands remember? And... Bennetts brand for life, our brands are a little... very different from others."
He blinked. "I..." He began but changed his mind about talking.
Bonnie picked up her needle and dipped it into the no longer glowing bottle. "Which do you want? You want lower neck... upper chin? upper neck... shoulder blades? Pick one..."
He frowned. He's never picked anything in his whole life. "I... What ever you want."
"How did I guess you would say that?" The young woman huffed softly. "upper neck and shoulders it is. Now," she leaned close to him, almost on top of him. "I suggest you be very still, I've never done this before."
Then she began her family's very complicated brand of branding.