Flashback...
Steven glanced over his shoulder into the mirror as he stepped into the shower, smiling as he caught sight the mark on his back, near his neck, barely low enough that his shirts hid it. And there was a memory to go with it, carved into his mind as strongly as the mark was in his skin...
The ropes that held his arms and legs spread were tight and harsh, the knife that cut through his clothes quick and efficient. The kiss was, by contrast, surprisingly gentle.
"Do you want to be mine, Steven?"
He thought he'd already made that clear, but he had no objection to saying it again. "Yes. I'm yours. I want to be yours."
Ba'al studied Steven's face, saw the desperate need in his eyes and smiled. "Very well." He stepped back and stripped to his pants then slowly paced around Steven until he was facing his back. He raised the knife and lightly traced it along Steven's spine. "I hope you realize what this means." The knife came up and traced Steven's right shoulder blade. "It means, Steven, that you are mine."
Ba'al leaned in until he was speaking into Steven's ear. "Mine to hurt, mine to heal, mine to pleasure and mine to pain. You will keep no secrets from me and you give yourself over to me fully. You will obey me absolutely and without question." He leaned back and pressed the knife into the base of Steven's neck, right where a Goa'uld symbiote would enter; not hard enough to penetrate the skin, but only just. "And you will wear my mark."
"Are you certain?"
Steven held still as the knife pressed into him. "Yes, I'm certain. I love you, Lord. Do what you will with me."
Though Steven couldn't see it Ba'al smiled, greatly pleased by this human's choice. "Good." He started to press the knife in but stopped. "This might hurt a bit." With only that warning, Ba'al began to carve his name in a long-dead ancient text. Not many outside of the Goa'uld would know it.
Steven barely flinched, trusting his Master not to hurt him worse than he could heal, letting himself actually enjoy the sensation of pain for once.
When he was finished, the tattoo was an inch tall and three inches long. "There." He walked over to a small table and retrieved a rag and some anticeptic. Ba'al went back to Steven and gently cleaned the tattoo. He returned to the table to set aside the rag then picked up a healing device and returned once again to Steven. He set the setting on low, just enough to seal the tattoo but not enough to erase it completely.
Ba'al smiled at his work then walked back around to Steven's front. He wiped the sweat from Steven's brow then cupped his jaw. "You did very well, Steven, and I'm very proud of you." He kissed Steven's forehead then his lips.
The sex had almost seemed like an afterthought, following that.
The ropes that held his arms and legs spread were tight and harsh, the knife that cut through his clothes quick and efficient. The kiss was, by contrast, surprisingly gentle.
"Do you want to be mine, Steven?"
He thought he'd already made that clear, but he had no objection to saying it again. "Yes. I'm yours. I want to be yours."
Ba'al studied Steven's face, saw the desperate need in his eyes and smiled. "Very well." He stepped back and stripped to his pants then slowly paced around Steven until he was facing his back. He raised the knife and lightly traced it along Steven's spine. "I hope you realize what this means." The knife came up and traced Steven's right shoulder blade. "It means, Steven, that you are mine."
Ba'al leaned in until he was speaking into Steven's ear. "Mine to hurt, mine to heal, mine to pleasure and mine to pain. You will keep no secrets from me and you give yourself over to me fully. You will obey me absolutely and without question." He leaned back and pressed the knife into the base of Steven's neck, right where a Goa'uld symbiote would enter; not hard enough to penetrate the skin, but only just. "And you will wear my mark."
"Are you certain?"
Steven held still as the knife pressed into him. "Yes, I'm certain. I love you, Lord. Do what you will with me."
Though Steven couldn't see it Ba'al smiled, greatly pleased by this human's choice. "Good." He started to press the knife in but stopped. "This might hurt a bit." With only that warning, Ba'al began to carve his name in a long-dead ancient text. Not many outside of the Goa'uld would know it.
Steven barely flinched, trusting his Master not to hurt him worse than he could heal, letting himself actually enjoy the sensation of pain for once.
When he was finished, the tattoo was an inch tall and three inches long. "There." He walked over to a small table and retrieved a rag and some anticeptic. Ba'al went back to Steven and gently cleaned the tattoo. He returned to the table to set aside the rag then picked up a healing device and returned once again to Steven. He set the setting on low, just enough to seal the tattoo but not enough to erase it completely.
Ba'al smiled at his work then walked back around to Steven's front. He wiped the sweat from Steven's brow then cupped his jaw. "You did very well, Steven, and I'm very proud of you." He kissed Steven's forehead then his lips.
The sex had almost seemed like an afterthought, following that.