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Chapter 16 - A Cruel Dream Fulfilled
Hanging upside down in the dark chamber, Lyral sobbed bitterly while the cord
her toes hung from gouged her soft flesh. The pain in her toes compounded the
pain from her burns of her day-long ordeal, but she hesitated to heal herself,
overwhelmed by concern for her horridly tormented friend.
She had not been able to see under what torturous predicament Kayleen had been
put this time, and she could only hope that her friend could reach her hanging
form and receive her healing. Lyral had called her friend's name through her
gag repeatedly, but moans and sobs had been Kayleen's only answer.
Worried sick as the image of her friend's ghastly torments recurred before her
eyes, she finally heard the clanking of irons. Something was moving with gasps
and stifled cries, dragging slowly on the stone floor. It took ages, but then
she heard a whisper, "Lyral ... I am almost there. Please be patient."
Lyral could not see that Kayleen was folded in a hogtie, her elbows cuffed
together and the ankles cuffed to the wrists, and her wounds were clamped with
tiny iron clips, causing the slightest movement to tear at them painfully. She
had been doused with freezing cold water and left shivering, but had retained
the sense to look for her friend in spite of the horrendous agony.
Lyral's toes ached fiercely when she turned left and right, straining her neck
to reach the friend she could finally smell nearby, then she finally touched
her hot, dry skin. A stir surged in her, a heat as close to joy as this dark
chamber had ever seen, and she rushed to heal her friend's devastated body,
but Kayleen pulled back from her kiss.
"Lyral, heal yourself first!" whispered Kayleen, smelling her friend's blood.
"Kayleen! Your wounds must be healed immediately. I can heal mine later, but I
need my full power to heal yours," said Lyral through her gag.
Kayleen sighed, craving Lyral's healing desperately, and nudged close, weeping
as her friend's power infused her body and wiped away the horrendous pain.
With a sigh, Kayleen fell back, so relieved that even the pain from her
strenuous restraint looked bearable.
"I can't believe we held on, today. The tortures you're being subjected to get
more horrendous each day," said Lyral, her voice trembling, omitting that the
her own torments were also getting harsher.
"We do what we must, Lyral. As long as we keep something from him, Zhorun will
have to enforce some restraint on his goons. But once we were of no further
use ..." said Kathleen, so bent on inspiring courage in her poor friend and to
some extent in herself that she realized only after the fact that the prospect
would scare her friend sick.
"However, if we stand united we'll defy him. If they concentrate on me, well,
I can put up with whatever they come up with, as long as you support me. You
must be brave, both facing what they do to you and what they do to me, and
they will not prevail. Heal yourself, now, and rest, my dear friend"
"I'll try, but it's going to be difficult hanging upside down," chuckled
Lyral, missing the false note in her friend's brave words, "I'll have to
expend some of my power to achieve that."
Kayleen consented silently, fully refreshed but already facing the pain of her
torturous position and the prospect of enduring it all night long. Their
predicament was worsening day by day, as Lyral was being put through harsher
and harsher torments and all restraints had been lifted on what herself was
being subjected to. She couldn't deny to herself that she's never been closer
to caving in, and it was only a matter of time before they put her through a
torture horrid enough to push Lyral into revealing Shandra's secret abode.
Although Lyral's healing restored the body and even made up for the missed
sleep, it was of no help with the unceasing abuse, humiliation and anguish
they were being put through, and heaven only knew how they had managed to
retain their sanity. Enduring the torture until rescued looked less and likely
to succeed as time passed, and yet she could find nothing with better
prospects. When she heard the footsteps announcing another grueling day of
ordeals, a heavy sigh of despair escaped from her lips.
Grod tightened her collar, constricting her windpipe, and freed her ankles in
order to lead her to the dreadful cross rack. She tried to resist, but finding
herself immediately out of breath had no choice but let him cuff her ankles to
the device, savoring the brief instant of freedom from the tight, heavy cuffs
she had worn for days as he favored a variant which spread the tremendous pull
of the device over a larger area.
The Southerner woke Lyral up unceremoniously, cuffed her wrists and ankles
together and suspended her from her wrists, clinching her knees together with
iron bands. To Kayleen's horror, he then produced a wide, studded leather
strap and lifted it in an arch at whose end it found Lyral's thighs, snapping
with a crack which was echoed by the young girl's scream of sheer agony.
Only after restraining Kayleen fully did Grod loosen her collar, proceeding
then to tighten iron bands at her shoulders, waist and hips before cranking
the rollers at the edges of the cross rack, pulling each limb taut almost
audibly while the strap cracked on Lyral's creamy skin, leaving bloody welts
while the young girl screamed in demented anguish.
Kayleen's eyes left the jerking shape of her friend when Grod produced a pair
of wooden pliers, hacked raw like the ones she remembered with dread, but with
clawed jaws curving into vicious points. His steel eyes met the dread in the
blue of hers, asking again for a surrender she was not ready to concede, and
then moved to her left breast. The claws cupped its firm flesh as he tightened
the pliers, drawing a scream of anguish as her strong body pulled at her
distended limbs in the effort to lessen the tear on her breast flesh.
Without releasing the pliers, he kept pulling, letting the points dig a row of
angry red scrapes on each side of the generous breast, elongating the pliant
flesh into a cone of agony before finally pulling clear while she screamed in
pain as the points fractured into splinters which lodged in the torn flesh.
Only when he replaced the broken implement with another did Kayleen realize
that the points were designed to flake away in splinters as they were forcibly
dragged through soft flesh, and dread crept in her scream as he slowly scraped
her other breast, the wooden points splintering in the gashes dug as she
howled in fitful agony from the vicious tearing.
He cranked the four rollers at the extremities of the rack, causing it to
start pulling at her distended limbs and joints, then produced a variant of
pliers which could be raked along limbs and closed them on her left forearm,
dragging them slowly along its length while the points dug into the distended
muscle and she screamed in fitful frenzies of tormented agony.
She screamed again for the entire duration of the raking of her other arm,
trembling in her restraints from the exertion and coughing as each movement
brought additional stabs of pain from her other joints, which had no slack to
accommodate her frantic attempts to stem the tearing of her arm.
For her left leg, he used a larger variant of pliers, with more claws which
dug angry chafes along her strong, muscular legs and nasty, bleeding gouges in
the softer flesh of her thigh, wrenching pitched shrieks of deep anguish from
her convulsing body as the pliers took a long time to reach her hips. Her
other leg was soon subjected to the same torment, rekindling her screams as a
fresh pair of pliers dug its way along her supple limb.
Lyral shook her head, still trembling from the pain of the strap and the
myriad bleeding welts it left, unable to fully grasp the torment being visited
on her friend as her experience on the rack had not included any tearing of
the distended muscles. As soon as cold water was splashed on her friend, the
strap cracked on the small of her back, sending her spinning and trembling
while she screamed fitfully from the horrendous pain.
Grod cranked the rollers again, enough to repeatedly wrench a scream from
Kayleen's parched mouth as the pull tore through her joints and ligaments, her
fully distended limbs now painfully elongated into harrowing rods of blazing
agony quivering from the tension and the pain, the muscles slowly straining
under the unyielding pull.
When he dragged the shredders along her forearm again, she convulsed in a fit
of howling agony as the points raked through the strained muscle and dug
bloody gashes where the chafed skin gave or had been pierced by a splinter
which was now being dragged along by their grip. Methodically, he slowly
dragged the shredders along her stretched limbs, lingering while she screamed
in tormented pain from the strained muscles and the bloody gashes.
Without a word, he loosened the nut in the roller pulling her left arm, which
caused it to loosen for a second before becoming taut again, wrenching a howl
of tormented pain from her lips as the arm was rattled mercilessly. One after
another, he meted out the same torment to each limb, proceeding to drag the
wooden shredders along each thereafter. He continued alternating the cranking
of the rollers, the shredding of her limbs and their sudden release until her
screams waned into pitiful wheezes of exhausted anguish.
The strap took flight and landed across Lyral's breasts just as she realized
that the raking of her friend's limbs had been suspended, the pain was so
intense that she gasped for air before screaming in agony. The Southerner
targeted her left breast first, and then the other when she turned under the
impulse of the blow, striking both in quick succession as bleeding welts
started marring the creamy skin while she howled in unceasing anguish.
Grod brought the jug to Kayleen's mouth, and she sputtered as drinking was as
difficult as breathing under the merciless pull of the cross rack. As her
sight cleared, her eyes widened when he closed the shredders around her right
breast and started pulling, raking it mercilessly while she shrieked in
demented pain. Her screams had not even subsided that he did the same to her
other breast, and then started back from the first, pulling and twisting as if
to tear her breasts from her chest.
After a litany of frenzied screams, she was splashed with cold water and her
lip trembled as her gaze wandered on the throbbing mounds of bruised flesh
bleeding from dozens of lacerated gashes which stood in place of her once
proud breasts. Fear and despair seeped into her scream when her tormentor
raked her left breast again, but dwindled quickly in favor of sheer agony as
he pulled it from her right, bracing with a boot against the rack frame and
twisting it viciously, causing her body to twist to the right in the vain
attempt to stem the tearing of her breast flesh until her shoulder, torn
between the opposite pulls, dislocated with a snap and a shriek of agony.
Her tormentor let her cry and tremble in shock, then circled and closed the
shredder on her other breast, raking it as her screams rose anew, pulling and
twisting, fighting her spasmodic attempts to contain the tendency of her body
to pull against her arm, until at last she jerked her other shoulder out of
its socket in another frenzy of fitful screaming.
Lyral added her voice to her friend's agonies when the Southerner slashed her
buttocks with the strap, tracing dozens of bleeding welts in the soft flesh of
the young girl, brutally wrenched from her unwilling fascination with her
friend's ordeals by the harsh caress of the studded leather.
Without a word, Grod busied himself with some levers under the rack, then
circled Kayleen's twitching body and positioned above her head, wielding a
fresh pair of shredders. In the haze of pain, her eyes bulged in horror when
she realized that he intended to pull on her breasts in order to dislocate her
hips, as he would tear them off her chest well before the hip joints gave.
Her mouth distended in a gaping scream of unparalleled agony when he used two
pairs of shredders, one on each breast, pulling and twisting mercilessly and
bracing with one boot and then the other while the wooden points dug into her
flesh and elongated her once generous breasts into gouged cones of throbbing
agony, causing her to pull against her racked legs, but not nearly strongly
enough to cause them to dislocate.
As he alternated between a boot and the other, she started to twist her upper
chest accordingly, and thousands of needles of white hot agony shot through
her dislocated shoulders as the movement put new strain on them. When he saw
this, he rested his boot on a lever which, when he switched his pull from the
left to the right breast, released the nut in the roller pulling at her left
leg, yanking it with a snap while he pulled savagely on her breast with all
his weight and she howled in unparalleled agony as the spasms in her muscles
almost managed to dislocate her left hip.
Undaunted by the failure, he tried the same with her other breast, and failed
again, dragging her down a hell of spasming muscles and torn flesh at whose
end she could only foresee the wrenching pain of having her hips dislocate
like her shoulders. Her breasts were two distorted cones of dark bruises and
bleeding gashes, throbbing and burning with unrelenting pain. Neither bravery,
nor resolve, nor cunning, nor prayers, nothing had delivered her from days and
days of unrelenting torture and the future offered more of the same.
Lyral's gaze found her friend's blue eyes and saw the hopelessness and despair
in them, and widened in fear as she saw that the resolve behind them was about
to shatter, because her friend was her only hope. She would later regret her
selfishness, remembering how bleeding raw flesh showed through the shredded
skin under her distended breasts.
Kayleen saw the terror in Lyral's eyes just as the latter had seen the despair
in hers, and the thought of failing her again brought her new resolve just as
he raked a fresh pair of shredders along her breast, causing her to twist and
convulse in a mounting frenzy of anguished howls as the flesh of the underside
of her breast tore in a wave of unparalleled agony and her hip joint snapped
when the nut was released and retensioned as Grod pushed on the lever.
She kept twitching and screaming in fits of coughing agony, bleeding profusely
from her half torn breast as Grod left his position to treat the wound, but a
robed figure neared silently and whispered, "The other, too."
Grod hesitated, then fetched a fresh pair of shredders and closed them on her
other breast while her screams rose higher in fear. He started to pull but, as
her mouth distended in a howl of agony, paused and said, "Tell us about the
Sorceress, girl. Nobody ever endured what you have been through, but even you
have reached your limits,"
Lyral watched her friend's perspiring body tremble and the breasts rise in a
protracted sigh, then the blue eyes locked with hers as she shook the head and
the blonde hair partly covered the face, although not enough to prevent Lyral
from seeing her lips form the words, "Pray for me". Then pain exploded in her
own breasts as the Southerner lashed them with the strap.
After pouring the contents of a jug in Kayleen's gasping mouth, Grod clenched
the jaws of the wooden shredder on her other breast and pulled viciously,
bracing with his boot on the lever releasing the nut in the roller racking her
leg. In spite of her anguished scream, the limb jerked and flailed but did not
dislodge from the hip joint. He circled her quivering form to crank it another
notch, making her scream even louder, then returned to his original position
and tried again, unflinching at her inhuman howl when the wooden points dug
new bruises into her breast flesh.
Bent on carrying out his master's wishes, he tried repeatedly to dislocate her
limb, tracing deep bleeding gashes in her breast, each one wrenching a litany
of gut-wrenching howls as the points drove new splinters in the wounded flesh
and dragged those already present in bloody gouges, but had to pause in order
to examine the torn underside of the once proud mound, where the skin had
ruptured and the flesh itself was being torn by the repeated pulling.
Sternly, he splashed her with cold water, moved to the roller and cranked it
repeatedly, inspecting her swollen hip joint while she screamed herself
hoarse, bringing it to within an hairsplit of dislocating, then circled her
and closed the bloody wooden jaws on her breast again, pulling at the torn
mound of flesh while his victim howled in unparalleled agony and delaying the
release of the nut, waiting for her body to distend in the spasmodic attempt
to relieve the tear on her chest. Her hip joint dislocated with an audible
pop, which after an instant of silence was overwhelmed a shriek of anguished
pain which wracked his victim's convulsing body.
Lyral withered under her friend's screams, but soon joined her with her own as
the pause brought the Southerner into action again, the strap landing
mercilessly on her soft pale flesh and leaving nasty bleeding marks while she
screamed in terrified agony and twitched spasmodically in her restraints.
After letting Kayleen's pitiful spasms subside in a litany of screams, Grod
let her sip from the jug again before circling her, placing himself at her
crotch and cranking the rack into distending her dislocated thighs into a
scissors spread, each crank soon wrenching helpless shrieks of demented agony
as the dislocated joints were put through this new torment.
Her shrieks turned to blood-curling bellows of raw anguish when he clenched
the wooden jaws of the shredder on her cunt lips and started pulling and
twisting, causing her to react by jerking and buckling her dislocated joints
out of their sockets in the attempt to relieve the tearing of the soft flesh.
Slowly, the repeated tearing of the shredders turned bruises into gashes,
wrenching inhuman screams of demented pain from her convulsing body. Then the
gashes were raked into bleeding gouges, as she jerked in sheer agony and the
pain from the hip sockets surged out of her mouth in a frenzy of fitful
shrieks, which waned only when her voice turned into a wheeze.
She was splashed with cold water before applying the shredder again, slowly
turning the gouges to rips as she bellowed in fits of howling torment while
the soft folds tore where the strain was beyond the ability of the flesh to
endure, ripping in flashes of unbearable pain and mad howls of sheer agony.
Lyral could not bring herself to avert her gaze from the bleeding rips in her
friend's labia, gasping in horror each time the shredder was applied again and
they were agonizingly widened while her friend convulsed in demented pain not
only from the shredding, but also from the pull on the dislocated limbs. In
spite of her prayers, the torment was protracted beyond belief, until the jaws
of the shredder could no longer find a good grip.
Grod was about to treat Kayleen's bleeding wounds, but the Southerner stepped
in and gestured that he would instead. Licking his lips, he positioned between
her thighs, and pulled out his aroused member. A sob wracked her body as she
clenched her eyes and dread contorted her visage, the sight of which he
enjoyed so much that he inserted his member very slowly, almost delicately,
his hands on her ribcage while she sobbed and heaved in pain and dread.
Then he reached for her iron collar and tightened it, constricting her
breathing and causing her vagina to clutch spasmodically his member, a grip he
enjoyed for a long instant of anticipation before pulling out viciously,
tearing at the ripped lips while a scream surged from her mouth. Laughing, he
started lunging forcefully into her racked body in a rut of growling thrusts,
enjoying her screams as this wracked her hip joints.
Only when tired of feeling her convulse in agony on his throbbing member, did
he start treating her wounds, by using pliers to tighten small iron clips on
the edges of the wound, a technique he favored because it was brutal enough to
qualify as torture and somewhat effective. He slowly released her from the
rack, then smiled when she screamed from the pain in her dislocated limbs, as
he intended to take full advantage of such condition.
Lyral cringed as the Easterner encased the big toe of each feet between the
jaws of a wooden vise, trembling in dread at the torment to come as much as
the thought of what her friend was going through. When the vise was tightened,
she tried to be brave but only managed to hold on for mere moments before she
let the pain escape her mouth in a scream of hopeless agony.
The Southerner cuffed Kayleen's ankles together, then doubled her legs and
pulled her arms so that he could cuff her elbows together above her ankles,
wrenching from her scream after scream as the position pulled cruelly at her
wracked limbs. He then clamped her nipples, and tied them with a fine chain to
her ankles. A similar chain connected a clamp on her clitoris to her cuffed
wrists, pulled taut while she screamed helplessly, so that when she tried to
lessen the tear on her joints, her nipples and clitoris would be pulled
savagely. He then sat on the floor before her and pulling her by her collar
forced her mouth, still distended by the spider gag, onto his flaccid member.
He then put on heavy gloves, grabbed her left foot and started rubbing his
gloved hand on the tender sole, which turned red while she convulsed in his
grip and screamed her agony onto his member as the sharkskin on the gloves
abraded the soft skin, causing her to wrack her limbs in reaction and pull at
her clamped nipples and clitoris at the same time. He bent his neck in
pleasure as her tongue twitched spasmodically under his manhood, while her
sole started bleeding under the unrelenting caress of the sharkskin gloves. He
trembled in ecstasy when her muffled screams of agony enveloped his hardening
member as he started to excoriate the sole of her other foot.
Panting, he kept dragging the gloves on her feet, scraping the skin raw and
drawing blood while she convulsed in agony, choking between muffled screams as
he sought his arousal, waiting for the drugs to achieve the intended effect.
After protracting the attempt at length, he exploded in her mouth, laughing as
she choked and gurgled in pain and humiliation. Now that she was but a rag
doll because of her dislocated limbs, he would have her as he always meant to.
Lyral almost puked at the sight of the semen drooling from her friend's torn
mouth, her skin crawling at each convulsion of the once magnificent body, now
trembling from the long bleeding lacerations left by the shredder, the pain in
her unhinged joints and the humiliation of the brutal rape. Her sight blanked
as she screamed in agony when the Easterner, sensing the pause, tightened the
vise on her fingers, crushing them between wooden jaws.
The Southerner cuffed Kayleen's elbows and wrists together behind her back,
then cuffed her ankles to her wrists, spreading her thighs painfully while he
dragged her to a reclined mattress he had prepared the day before, where he
lied after disrobing and where he forced her to climb by pulling her nipples
with the sharkskin gloved fingers. He forced her to straddle his manhood, her
disarticulated limbs preventing her muscles from opposing him but not from
straining in the attempt, resulting in more frenzied screams of raw agony.
He closed his sharkskin gloved hands on her curly pubic hair and pulled
upwards viciously, ripping it off and lifting her up a few inches while she
bellowed in humiliation and pain, only to let her drop onto his member
immediately thereafter, the instrument of her own violation compounding the
blazing pain from the jarring tug on her dislocated thighs.
As if his cruelty demanded further satisfaction, he pulled her up again and
tightened clamps on the flapping tatters of her cunt lips, spreading them
agonizingly wide and winding the fine chains around her thighs and behind her
back until he could fasten them to the folds of torn skin on her breasts,
shortening the chain until her moans turned to fitful screams before letting
her slide down on his member again.
Unbelievably, his member was hardening already, and she slid up and down its
wrapped length according to the thrusts imparted by her violator's pelvis or
the ripping of the pubic hair, as her unhinged thighs could exert no force and
just bent wide while she howled in maddened pain. Smiling cruelly, he kept her
bouncing and convulsing, building up his arousal and slowly ripping the blonde
hair from her mons, protracting his bliss as she agonized on his manhood and
repeatedly tightening her collar, crushing her windpipe until she turned blue
in the face while her vagina spasmodically clutched the shaft piercing her.
Lyral, still sobbing from the dull ache in her crushed fingers and toes, could
not help but yelp at each scream from her friend's convulsing body as it fell
on his stiffening member, her gaze transfixed by its girth tearing the vagina
open with the sole lubrication of the crimson droplets from the mons, where
the ripping of the hair and the abrasion from the sharkskin had removed more
skin and exposed the throbbing flesh underneath.
Only when her friend stopped howling, after repeated self impalement on the
leather wrapped member, did she realize that he had climaxed again and was now
just enjoying the sobbing jerks of his humiliated victim, just as a vise was
placed around her breasts and the Easterner started tightening it. With a sob,
the young Priestess shifted her gaze from her friend's breasts, bleeding from
the gouges left by the shredder, to her own creamy mounds of tender flesh,
already bulging between the jaws of the wooden vise.
The Southerner cuffed Kayleen's ankles to chains from the ceiling, spreading
them wide, then produced a dozen of tiny clamps which he clenched on the edges
of torn skin under her breasts, wrenching new screams of agony and dread from
her sore throat. He then pulled the chains from the clamps together and
pulling her up by the collar said, "Get ready to clamp your mouth around my
manhood here, girl, unless you want to rip the skin off your breasts,"
He forced her mouth onto his half-aroused member, then tied the chains from
the clamps on each breast on a handle which he fastened to her ankles, using a
chain which was barely long enough in her bent position. When he let go of her
collar, she immediately screamed as the fine chains stiffened and the clamps
started ripping the torn skin of her breasts, reopening dozens of bleeding
lacerations. She had not played into his game, in spite of the price.
Annoyed, her tormentor grabbed her collar and pulled her mouth onto his member
again, pinching her clitoris between abrading fingers and rubbing it,
wrenching an immediate howl of demented agony from her and repeating the
attempt to let her suck his manhood while she convulsed in abject torment from
her bleeding love bud, which he was slowly peeling raw. Unbelievably, she
still refused to debase herself before her tormentor.
He let go of her collar and let the clamps rip some more skin from her breasts
before catching her descent, savoring her howl of desperate anguish but still
deprived of his ultimate prize. He inspected her breasts, and concluded that
there was still skin enough for more attempts, so he resumed rubbing her
clitoris and watched her twitch madly, glistening with perspiration and
bleeding as the clamps widened the gouges left by the wooden shredder and
rivulets of blood flowed, feeling his member harden again.
He repeatedly tried to force her to suck, but she kept screaming and twisting
from the torment of her bleeding clitoris and the piecemeal skinning of her
breasts, rather than submit to him. His pleasure at her pitiful gurgles and
spasmodic twitches grew however to a drug-engendered climax, which caught her
mouth wide open in a gut-wrenching howl which broke into sputtering coughs.
Lyral screamed as the Easterner tightened her breast vise again, twitching in
her restraints as the pain assaulted her from her toes, fingers and now
breasts, waxing and waning as she shook in howling torment. Even if they had
decided to force her to talk by torturing her friend, they had not neglected
to cause her as much pain as her young, frail body would stand.
Enraged, the Southerner let Kayleen down and cuffed each ankle to the opposite
wrist, then lowered a thick hook fastened to a chain from the ceiling and
wrapped it in sharkskin. She screamed madly when he lifted her, both from
dread and from pain in her disarticulated shoulders, and her scream turned to
a shriek of terrified agony when he impaled her vagina on the upturned hook,
rasping it raw, and then pushing his member up her ass and thrusting while his
sharkskin gloved hands crushed her bleeding breasts and rubbed her nipples.
Growling in a frenzy of maddened lust, he drove his member up her ass while
the sharkskin reamed her womb into raw bleeding pulp and his fingers peeled
her nipples raw, his grunts punctuating her pitiful shrieks in an obscene
parody of lovemaking. After his initial rut, he protracted his pleasure by
pausing his thrusts and letting her spasms massage his member as she twitched
in screaming agony on the hook, dancing spasmodically under his fingers as
he tore alternately at one and then at the other nipple.
Once sated, he lowered his trembling victim on the floor and pulled her left
ankle behind her back until he managed to cuff it to her right wrist, behind
her neck, wrenching new screams of pain from her throat as her limbs protested
in vain. Her screams doubled when he pulled her right ankle and left wrist
until he could fasten their cuffs together on her right side, leaving her
folded in a position which pulled savagely at her dislocated limbs.
Lyral kept screaming from the unyielding grip of the vises, reaching new
heights when the Southerner tightened either of them, her own pain distracting
her from the unrelenting violation and humiliation of her friend. Yet, the
sight of the straining position her friend's disarticulated limbs were
repeatedly forced into still made her pause in horror, as she was well aware
of the horrendous torment they entailed.
While Kayleen jerked on the stone floor, the Southerner wrapped his member in
leather and knelt besides her, then grabbed her by her collar and wrist and
dragged her near, pushing his member into her vagina again while her cries
from the agony in her torn limbs turned to howls as his member rasped her
abraded insides. He started rubbing his sharkskin gloved hands down her
ribcage, forcing her to react by following the movement, first impaling
herself on his member, then pulling away in quivering disgust until his hands
stroked her skin into a rasping nightmare of burning agony again.
It took a long time for him to rasp her ribcage and hips raw, but he
protracted the torment so that her convulsions on his member would reawaken
his arousal. As this started to happen, he started tightening her collar to
cause her vagina to clutch it, wrenching new howls of unbridled agony as its
abraded inside was exposed to the searing rasp of the leather.
Lyral watched in horrified disbelief as the old man's rut seemed to know no
bounds, going beyond what nature and even drugs could make possible. He had
done something to himself, as his face was congested and his eyes bulged, in
order to be able to possess his victims for hours in a single, uninterrupted,
brutal rape. And where the most devious torments had proved unable to break
the proud Warrior Queen, the unceasing violation, the brutal humiliation of
being powerless in his hands, the intimate excoriation of femininity were
driving her friend on the brink of collapse.
The Southerner let Kayleen sip from the jug, unfastened her restraints, cuffed
her elbows and wrists together behind her back, then forcefully twisted her
legs in the position known in the East as the lotus, bending her pain-wracked
thighs out of place while she screamed pitifully at the renewed torment.
He fastened her bent legs to her collar, then turned her face down and pulled
her arms over her head, laughing at her screams and fastening her wrists to a
ring in the floor. He knelt behind her and waited until his member stiffened
again before violating her vagina again, drooling at her cries as his gloved
hands raked her back.
Mad with lust, he kept thrusting, never sated, and instead of pulling out kept
raking his hands on her bloodied back, enjoying her twitching on his member.
Only after protracting her violation at length did he free her from her
restraints, but only to cuff her wrists to chains from the ceilings and pull
her legs up until he could fasten her ankles to her wrists, leaving her
hanging in mid-air, exposed and crying from the pain in her strained joints.
With an evil smile, he brought his rapidly arousing member near the rosette
of her anus and teased it, enjoying the dread and humiliation in her cries as
he waited for the drugs to take effect. Only when it was rock hard did he
thrust it up her ass, pushing up viciously and enjoying the recoil as her
trembling body fell back down on its erected manhood. Her screams of despair
rose to howls when his sharkskin gloved hands started rasping the shredded
skin of her thighs and legs, as he used them to accompany his upward thrusts.
Lyral's eyes could not leave her friend's bouncing form, in spite of her own
torment in the Easterner's vises, unable to comprehend how her friend's
tormentor could still will and ever be able to hurt, rape and humiliate her
friend, as if there was something he had not subjected her to. All resolve was
gone from the blue eyes, and the face contorting in torment bore no sign of
defiance as the head rocked back and forth under the thrusts.
Unbelievably, the Southerner protracted the violation of Kayleen's bowels, his
eyes bulging and his breath panting from the effort and the drugs, while his
victim twitched and screamed as the abrading gloves rasped mercilessly her
shredded legs and thighs. He came with a growl, loud enough to be heard under
her frenzied screaming, and then let her twitch for some time on his upturned
member, rubbing the sharkskin on her raw nipples while she cried in pain.
He lowered her on the floor, cuffed her left ankle to the right wrist behind
her back, then pulled her up by her left wrist, letting her scream as her
weight rested on her dislocated right leg, and, once he grabbed her firmly,
on her mouth on his member. With lust in his eyes, he moved his hand to her
ass and started reaming the inside of her anus with his sharkskin covered
finger, forcing her to scream her agony onto his member again.
As he protracted her humiliation, he added first one finger and then another
inside her bleeding ass hole, elated as the drugs managed to bring him again
to arousal, fully enjoying her tongue pleasuring his member as she screamed in
mad pain, shrill cries of agony turning into pitiful gurgles as her mouth was
almost filled by his unnaturally hard member. Panting, he brought both hands
on her ass cheeks and started raking them, tearing at her ass hole as if to
rip it open while her cries brought him to climax again.
Lyral shook in disbelief and horror, her own pain a dull ache as even the
Easterner had been fascinated as her friend's rape protracted beyond all
boundaries of reason and nature. There had been no pause, no mercy, just the
brutal humiliation of forced oral penetration between the repeated violation
of her friend's orifices, perpetrated while scraping her skin raw with the
sharkskin gloves and straining her dislocated limbs. And it was not over.
The Southerner let Kayleen sip from the jug, and then cuffed her elbows and
wrists together behind her back, and her ankles to a wedge-shaped steel bar
crushing her bleeding mons, straining her legs bent besides her thighs into a
pain-wracked fold which tore agonizingly at her disarticulated hip joins. He
then clamped the flapping tatters of her cunt lips, staunching their bleeding
but causing her cries to rise in pitch as he fastened them to the bar, causing
her to lewdly push her vulva forward, balancing precariously on her knees while
quivering from the pain in her hip joints.
Her screams rose even higher when he started clamping the folds of skin on her
bleeding breasts, fastening the clamps from each breast to a chain from the
ceiling and slowly pulling up, forcing her to arch strenuously to prevent her
breasts from being further flayed, at the price of putting all her weight on
her dislocated hip joints. Pulling her wrists and twisting her arms above her
shoulders, preventing them form supporting her trembling body looked like the
last straw in depraved cruelty, until he moved between her legs and nudged her
rasped anus with his newly aroused member sheathed in leather.
Lyral watched in gaping disbelief as he thrust into her friend's torn ass
hole, the leather rasping her bloodied innards while his sharkskin gloved
hands pulled savagely at her nipples, unable to stop shaking at her friend's
pitiful howls of desperate agony, sobbing at what she could recognize as
mindless agony, the broken shell of her formerly proud friend. Now that her
friend's resolve had been shattered by the relentless assaults, the
whereabouts of Shandra would be disclosed, and it would be over.
The feeling of relief which Lyral was warming to was suddenly chilled in her
mind by the thought of what would be of them once they had nothing of value
for their captors, and especially what would be of her once they had no more
reason to preserve her maidenhood. Gripped by a fear she could not contain,
she surprised everybody in the torture chamber by shouting, "Kayleen! Don't
talk, Kayleen! Hold on, for heaven's sake, hold on!"
A desperate howl of dread, pain and humiliation rose from Kayleen's throat
when, as if in response, the Southerner knelt between her splayed thighs and
forcefully penetrated her rasped vagina, raking the sharkskin gloves on her
hips as his frenzied thrusts crushed the clamps on the wounded lips and jerked
her body off the floor, tearing at the folds of skin in her breasts, in a
contraption of devious cruelty and perverse lust which her tormentor enjoyed
with wild abandon, fueling his inhuman arousal as much on the drugs as on her
spasmodic convulsions and anguished, uninterrupted screams.
Growling, her tormentor protracted her violation, as if feeding off her
screams, pausing to let his member relish her spasmodic convulsions and then
resuming her rape to fuel new frenzies of pitiful howling, and continued long
enough to let Lyral recover her wits and shed bitter tears at the thought of
what her friend was going through and how selfish she had been.
"Faithful, loyal servants are supplied with the means to have their fondest
dreams fulfilled. Defiance is suitably punished," whispered Zhorun, indirectly
revealing the origin of the Southerner's inhuman lust, his voice thrilled and,
if possible, lustful at pleasures he could only watch.
When her friend was finally released, trembling and coughing, the sun was
setting over almost a day of uninterrupted rape, and Lyral started considering
how she could augment her healing to let her friend recover beyond the purely
physical aspects of her ordeal, when the robed figure spoke, a deviant thrill
in his whispers from beyond the grave, "Her interrogation must continue."
The Easterner moved besides Kayleen and cautiously undid her restraints, even
if she was obviously unable to resist, and cuffed her wrists to chains from
the ceiling, lifting her up by her disarticulated arms while she screamed at
the top of her lungs, her mouth distended by the gag and repeatedly violated
trembling as her body convulsed from the horrid pain. He then cuffed her
ankles to chains winding around two pillars and pulled her legs up at waist
height, distending them beyond what could be ordinarily achieved as they no
longer rested in their sockets and held only by the ligaments, as confirmed
by the sunken flesh at her hip and shoulder joints.
Just hanging spread eagled in mid air with her limbs out of their sockets
would have been more than enough torture in Lyral's eyes, but her friend's
tormentor had prepared something on par with what his colleagues had visited
on the devastated victim. At first, Lyral failed to understand how what looked
like small triangular pieces of paper could harm her friend, but she could not
deny the reality of her hopeless screams of agony as the Easterner used the
paper in his hands on her chafed and gouged skin.
Kayleen screamed in mindless agony as she withstood what her friend could not
discern clearly, the slicing of her raw flesh by a razor thin piece of paper
turned stiff and brittle, almost like glass, by bathing in some chemical whose
residual traces burned in the shallow wound like bleach.
Her tormentor cut shallow slices through her breasts and cunt lips, so thin
and shallow that they barely bled, remaining open and burning far longer than
cuts from a knife would. He then reached for her feet, and started cutting
under her nails and between her toes, making short pauses between each cut as
the wound was so minor that he could slice her a dozen times before she bled
as she would from the slightest blade cut.
He moved from her left foot to her left calf, slicing her repeatedly with
short pauses in between and taking care to cut through the gashes left by the
shredder, letting her howls of demented agony subside just enough to place the
next cut where he wanted it in spite of her trembling and jerking under the
relentless assault of the devious little implements of torment.
After spending an unbelievable amount of time on her left leg, he moved his
attentions to her left thigh, wrenching high pitched howls as he sliced softer
flesh, attempting to dig longer cuts even if the paper was not really up to
the task and bent easily. She screamed repeatedly as he cut across the bloody
gashes left by the shredder, leaving cuts thin enough that they barely bled
but burned fiendishly from the irritant used on the paper.
After thoroughly crisscrossing her left thigh with cuts, he splashed her with
cold water and knelt before her, dragging the razor thin paper on the abraded
skin of her mons as she jerked in screaming agony, then following up with a
cut at the base of a rip in her cunt lips, reopening it while she screamed
herself hoarse and a drop of blood formed where the rip had been reopened.
He started slicing through the folds of her clitoris, one cut at a time, each
a thin red line in the pink flesh, each wrenching a new scream from her as he
alternated between left and right, nearing to her bleeding love bud, abraded
raw by the sharkskin and still throbbing in pain. But when he sliced through
it with the razor thin paper, she arched in pain-wracked spasms and howled her
agony up the vaults of the torture chamber, trembling and buckling in spite of
the torment thus wrought on her dislocated joints.
Lyral could not help but tremble at her friend's scream, neither did she
manage to withstand the ones which followed, because although she could not
see what exactly her friend's tormentor was doing, she could sense the sheer
agony in her desperate howls and could guess that he was again targeting her
femininity, his cruelty second to none and no less despicable just because he
refrained from physical intercourse with his victim. Lyral shook her head as
her friend's screams continued, as if to repel the thought that he could not
find anything more to cut there by now.
Instead, the Easterner was finding plenty to cut on Kayleen's abraded love
bud, because each slice was tiny, and he prided himself in being able to slice
into an existing cut in spite of her spasmodic jerks, so he kept up her
torment far longer than his mindlessly howling victim or her terrified friend
would have considered or even hoped possible.
He moved to her right thigh and resumed the assault on her flesh, drawing the
razor thin paper in cuts across the gouged skin and into the bleeding
abrasions, pausing after each howl of demented agony to let her jerk and
convulse herself into further pain as she tore at her swollen joints.
He finally moved to her right leg, continuing to slice thin cuts across the
gashes left by the shredder and pausing to let each run its course of pain as
she screamed and jerked, furthering her agony. She was perspiring heavily, and
the salty sweat burned in her wounded and abraded flesh, creating a backdrop
of unrelenting torment against which the tiny cuts of her tormentor flashed
like lightning in a storm, followed by the thundering pain from the joints.
Lyral cried as Grod, in view of the impending pause in her friend's torture,
pulled a curl of hair from her thick bush, wrenching a howl of pain from her
mouth and throwing her in a deep pit of dread as her nightmare of an assault
on the femininity which she had distanced from inched closer.
The Easterner let Kayleen sip from the jug, allowing for the briefest respite
before reaching for her right foot, wrenching from her shrill cries of
helpless torment as he started cutting under her nails and between her toes,
lingering on each before moving to her sole, slicing into the soft flesh with
tiny cuts which barely bled but kept burning from the irritant in the paper.
He moved behind her and started slicing the back of her leg, drawing from her
new screams where pain mixed with dread as she realized that he intended to
travel the full course of her distended, quivering legs, cutting his way into
her flesh tiny wound by tiny wound, meaning that her torment was not even
halfway as he would then turn on the rest of her body.
The torment of her thigh was a protracted ordeal of slicing and cutting, and
her tormentor put an end to it only for an instant of respite, just before
dragging a razor thin paper strip down the crease in between, managing the
long cut he had so often attempted while she arched in a bellow of unbridled
agony, pushing madly on her disarticulated limbs in the vain effort to stem
the pain from the long, shallow cut which as he deepened it agonizingly.
Unlike her legs, her ass cheeks had not been raked by the shredder, so instead
of long gashes they bled from the deep abrasions left by the sharkskin gloves,
and she discovered that this was fertile ground for her tormentor's cruel
imagination as he started alternating between cutting into the skin and inside
the abrasions, opening them even so slightly and renewing their burning agony
with a new dose of merciless torment which caused her to howl and buckle,
wreaking new agonies onto her swollen joints.
He also practiced the art of slicing into an existing cut, biding his time to
avoid her spasmodic jerks as the intense pain short from her buttocks and
rattled her chains as much as her joints, fueling new frenzies of fitful
screaming while thin rivulets of blood, mere droplets, formed at the edges of
the thin lacerations which burned from her salty sweat.
Lyral watched her friend howl from pain and convulse in agony, unable to avert
her eyes from the sight of her ligaments and muscles twitching and tensing as
her jerks strained her joints, starting when the head of the dislocated bone
bulged under the tormented flesh. Then a pain flashed from her mons as another
curl of hair was cruelly ripped off, and she clenched her eyes screaming.
After splashing Kayleen with cold water, the Easterner started practicing a
different art, that of slicing under the edges of an existing wound, slicing
the skin off from the underlying flesh for the fraction of inch allowed by the
brittle paper, wrenching from her a bellow of gut-wrenching agony as the cut
brought the irritant from the paper into a larger area of tormented flesh.
After tormenting her buttocks for an unbelievable amount of time, he resumed
his progression along her limbs, moving to her right thigh and cutting across
the gashes left by the shredder, returning to a form of torment which was
maybe less refined but no less painful, at least according to his victim's
agonizing screams and spasmodic jerks.
He then circled her, reaching for her hand and slicing under the nail of her
ring finger, pausing when she jerked with a yowl which turned to a scream when
he cut the flesh between two fingers and then then sliced under the nail of
her small finger, starting the relentless torment of her fingers which he
methodically protracted while she screamed in abject torment and twitched her
arm, sending shoots of pain through her shoulder in the vain attempt to
relieve her tormented fingers.
In time, he moved to her forearm, tracing thin cuts in the flesh near the
wrist and then descending slowly, each cut a new rattling of the chains and
a new scream, full of helpless torment and deep misery, her voice trembling
from the uninterrupted effort and yet capable of rising to new heights as he
crisscrossed her flesh with tiny burning cuts.
Her tormentor reached her upper arm, and soon moved to her armpit, targeting
the soft flesh with long, slow cuts which wrenched screams of bitter pain from
her shaking body. He kept slicing the relatively unharmed skin, inspecting her
eyes as the dread regarding where he would subsequently move his attentions
built up, creeping in her hoarse screams and anguished stares as the cuts
inched closer and closer to her breast.
Lyral watched helplessly, crushed under the realization that the show was
being protracted for her benefit, to force her to talk, and at the same time
unable to silence the dark corner of her mind which hoped her friend's torture
would not stop, because her own would then begun. She tried to pray for her
friend, but she so despised herself that she could not bring herself to
continue and just wept bitterly, screaming when another curl was ripped from
her mons by her vigilant tormentor as her friend's torture was paused.
When the Easterner brought the jug to Kayleen's lips, she broke in tears,
wailing in despair, knowing what would follow and finding no mercy in the cold
eyes of her tormentor. Her breasts had been savagely torn by the shredders,
whose jaws had raked them repeatedly leaving dozens of bruises and gouges,
some chafed raw by the repeated shredding and some lacerated to the raw flesh
by the many splinters. The twisting and pulling had torn the soft skin of the
underside like a ripped curtain, exposing bleeding swaths of fat and flesh
summarily clipped but still bleeding slowly. The sharkskin had abraded the
wounded skin and peeled the nipples raw, leaving two radiating centers of
unrelenting agony pinned on top of the throbbing mounds of feminine flesh.
"Obstination will only result in more pain, for both of you. The torment shall
be protracted until either of you delivers what I request, and its intensity
will be increased to match your defiance, " said Zhorun, watching intently.
The paper cut across a lacerated gouge in Kayleen's left breast, sending her
head jerking back as her mouth distended in a scream of tormented agony,
followed by another as her joints shook under her spasms of pain. The next cut
sliced through the abraded tip of the left nipple, forming a droplet of blood
under the throbbing bud as she howled, rattling her restraints, unable to
prevent herself from pulling at her dislocated joints.
He dragged a paper across the tatters of skin under her left breast, wrenching
a sustained howl of unbridled agony as she shook her head in mad pain, the cut
not even deep enough to sever the remaining folds of soft skin but burning
painfully as it remained open while she convulsed her disarticulated joints
into further torment. She bellowed in utter agony when he sliced along a deep
gash left by the shredder, scratching the dried blood from the raw flesh and
causing her to stiffen and arch in a hoarse scream before buckling madly.
Slowly, deliberately, he sliced scores of thin cuts in her mauled breasts,
pausing after each and biding his time while she could not prevent herself
from jerking and buckling, furthering the torment of her dislocated joints
into frenzies of screaming agony. Her own perspiration brought salty sweat in
her innumerable wounds, and in spite of the efforts in reducing the bleeding
the blood loss was starting to become significant.
Lyral watched, beyond tears, as her friend's breasts quivered between howls of
unbridled agony as the paper scratched the gouges, sliced abraded flesh, and
sliced through existing cuts. Such was her friend's agony that she overcame
her deep seated fears and found herself praying for a pause, no longer fearing
that it would bring her own torment, ready for anything as long as it meant a
pause in her friend's uninterrupted torture.
After covering Kayleen's breasts with tiny cuts, the Easterner let her sip
from the jug and then moved to her right arm, no longer playing on her deep
seated womanly fears but simply dragging the razor thin paper in an intricate
graffiti of torment punctuated by her uninterrupted, hoarse screams of agony.
He splashed her with cold water, and watched while she convulsed and screamed
as the saltwater burned through the innumerable wounds all over her body. When
she stopped rattling her chains, he knelt before her and dragged a razor thin
piece of bristle paper across the rim of her sphincter, sending her buckling
again as the tiny cut brought her suffering to a new level. Taking advantage
of a momentary lapse in her trashing, he then sliced through the rim of her
abraded vagina, following up with the razor thin paper as her body stiffened
before she started convulsing in a frenzy of uninterrupted screaming.
He continued slicing mercilessly the rim of her orifices, tracing tiny cuts of
unbelievable agony in the abraded flesh while she screamed at the top of her
lungs and convulsed madly, tearing at her dislocated joints in a frenzy of
maddened pain which he protracted cruelly, alternating between deepening
existing cuts and opening new ones.
Lyral gasped as her friend's torment reached new depths of depravity, as the
cuts on her nipples and clitoris became the next target, pulled open by expert
fingers and sliced under the edges by the brittle paper, causing wild spasms
of desperate agony as the irritant burned into slices too tiny to bleed, let
alone clot, or protracted frenzies of howling torment as the paper sliced
through raw flesh in the bleeding gashes or under abraded skin.
Time and again, she hoped that a pause in her friend's screams meant that the
ordeal was finally over, but to her dismay they always resumed as cold, salt
water was poured on her convulsing form to revive her and rekindle her
torment. Only when the last howl was wrenched from her throat did their
ordeal, finally, give way to another night of torturous restraint.
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