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Chapter 17 - Partakers in Their Own Misery
The dark emptiness of the torture chamber under the ruins of Zhorun's former
castle echoed with Kayleen's intermittent, bitter cries. She hung from a wedge
shaped steel bar snug under her knees, with her ankles cuffed together, her
arms encircling the legs and cuffed before the ankles, folding her painfully
with her chest pressing on the thighs and her dislocated limbs under
uninterrupted, savage strain. Her shredded cunt lips had been pulled open and
stitched with needles to the inside of her thighs, and the flies which had
been left with them showed some preference for biting her there, as their
captors had intended, tormenting her mercilessly.
Below her, Lyral balanced precariously with her knees on a hacked wooden
wedge, with her ankles tied to iron bands at her thighs, her wrists and elbows
cuffed together behind her back, wailing in bitter agony when a fly bit her
bleeding mons, where her curly hair had been ripped. A spiked hemp rope
encircled her breasts, gouging them whenever she lost her balance and pulled
on it, her scream soon joined by her friend's as the other end of the rope had
been fastened to Kayleen's waist band, causing any tug from her friend to
reverberate cruelly on her dislocated joints. Conversely, as Kayleen convulsed
from a particularly nasty bite, the rope spikes shifted cruelly inside her
friend's breast flesh.
Of the two, Lyral was the one in better shape, as Kayleen was beyond herself
after a day of uninterrupted rape and savage slicing of her most tender flesh,
but she found herself unable to concentrate enough to use her power to heal
herself, because of the uninterrupted torment from the wedge or the spikes, so
she just twitched in misery, screaming occasionally when the pain rose for one
reason or the other. Kayleen still shivered from the repeated dousing with
freezing cold water, most of which had splashed Lyral also.
As the night went on in a nightmare of mutual agonies, it was Kayleen who
tapped some inner reserve of resolution and slowly managed to bring herself
under some control, straining heroically to still herself before the agonies
she was undergoing in order to stop tearing at her friend's breasts.
"Lyral, Lyral, is it better now ? Can you hear me ?" she called, wincing at a
bite under her sole but keeping as still as she could.
"I do, Kayleen. Oh Kayleen, my breasts ... I can't stand the pain, please
don't move again," replied Lyral, and Kayleen had to stifle a stinging remark
as her own breasts had been shredded raw, abraded and sliced with hundreds of
paper-cuts. But she could not ask Lyral to become what she was not.
"Can you heal yourself, now ?" asked Kayleen instead, worried that her friend
could not withstand the impending torments, as it was almost dawn.
"Maybe, but I cannot reach you. I cannot see so far up," replied Lyral.
"If you can heal yourself, I think I can extricate myself from this position
and lower my head enough to reach you. If my joints were sound it would be
easier, but now ... I won't be able to spare you much, Lyral," she said,
omitting that what she had in mind would amount to protracted self torture of
her own dislocated joints.
Lyral trembled, terrified at the prospect of further suffering in her breast,
and almost denied her friend, then she saw before her eyes her friend's body
being savagely raped by the old Southerner while Zhorun watched intently, and
sighed in misery, dreading the thought of what her fate would be in her
friend's absence and hating herself for her weakness.
"If you hear me scream, don't stop," said Lyral, marveling at her own words.
Steeling herself, the Warrior Queen started arching, containing a scream of
intense agony as the act distended her arms and tore at her dislocated
shoulder joints, straining in the desperate attempt to extricate herself from
her folded position and distend, reaching down with her head to touch her
friend. In doing so, she pulled her waist up, and soon had to support her
friend's weight in addition to her own, while Lyral hung from her constricted
breasts and screamed in agony, soon joined by Kayleen as she reached a point
where the pain was excruciating.
The first attempt failed in a frenzy of screams, and Kayleen had to return to
her original position, sobbing and twitching in bitter torment, but after the
shortest rest she thought she could afford she tried again, and almost made
it the second time before giving up between screams. She rested again, and
with a horrendous effort managed at last to extricate herself, letting the
bar slide painfully from her knees to her ankles and distending downward,
bringing her friend back on the ground and reaching her face with her own,
although at the price of horrendous pain in her dislocated joints.
When both recovered after the intense pain, Lyral gathered the strength to
heal her friend, trembling as her healing power diffused and she was exposed
to some of the pain her friend had been through, seeking in the empathy they
shared the traces of her friend's abominable rape and shuddering as she found
plenty, crying bitterly at the vicarious experience.
"Why do you cry ? Didn't you heal yourself ?", asked Kayleen.
"I was not sure I had power enough for us both, Kayleen, but that's not it.
When I heal you, I can feel some of what you went through," replied Lyral.
"You mean ... the old pig ?", said Kayleen, steel in her voice.
"Yes", whispered Lyral, trembling.
"Don't let them ... stain you, Lyral. Don't dwell on it, take your mind off
the thought. I know it's terrifying, but don't dwell on it. That's what they
want, they know you're afraid, and ..." she stopped in mid sentence, but
Lyral completed it, "... they rape you because of that. Oh Kayleen, I wish I
were brave enough to stand in your place, but I cannot! When that man lays his
hands on me, I feel like dying of fright! I am so worthless!"
Kayleen tried to soothe her, whispering in her ears the best words she could
find, raging silently at the thought of her young, frail friend being
subjected to the depravities they faced, and at her own inability to prevent
it. She had to find a weakness in their captors' habits, and quickly, since
withstanding the torture proved harder and harder each day.
As if to prove her right, she heard the dreaded noise of approaching
footsteps, and for a moment was about to cry in despair that it wasn't fair,
it was too early, and then sobbed silently as Lyral moaned a tormented,
forlorn "Nooo" which echoed in the chamber as the torches lit it again.
The Easterner neared and lowered Kayleen to the ground, ignoring Lyral's sigh
of relief, and immediately tightened her collar, restricting her breathing and
dragging her to a nearby bench. He cuffed one ankle at a time to one end of
the bench, then one wrist at a time to the other, and fastened an iron band
around her waist. Only then did he allow her to breathe normally again, and
then disrobed, wrapped his member in leather and entwined his legs with her
constricted form before thrusting it into her vagina, coldly raping her on the
bench while she cried in dismay.
Meanwhile, the Southerner had fastened Lyral on the ladder, and drove a thin
needle under her left toenail causing her scream to join her friend's. He drove
a few in quick succession, pausing just enough to let her screams subside, but
then stopped driving needles under her toenails to watch her friend's
violation, commenting lewdly, "It took the others a while, but they finally
decided to give her what she deserves. Too high and mighty for an old man, she
fancied herself, and now watch her service all the three of us!"
After climaxing, the Easterner extricated himself, then cranked the bench to
pull Kayleen's body taut and circled her. Soon she felt a cord tighten around
her thumb, and yelped as tiny thorns bit her skin. As the cord was tightened,
her yowls turned to a bitter cry, and soon she started screaming as pain
wracked her fingers while he tightened the barbed cords, phalanx after
phalanx, using iron pliers to slowly and viciously twist them.
His victim gazed in dread as, after mercilessly tormenting her fingers at
length, he moved by her feet and wound a thin barbed cord around her toe,
jerking her head in a scream when he tightened it and the tiny thorns started
chafing the skin. She could not see them, but could see that the cord had
knots at regular intervals, each knot winding around a small steel linchpin
whose purpose cast ominous shadows in her mind. As the toes had no discernible
phalanxes, her tormentor placed two cords on each, wrenching bitter screams as
the pain from her toes compounded the piercing ache in her fingers.
He paused again, then produced coils of rough hemp rope which he started
wrapping around her slender legs. She watched through tears as he wound a
strip of cured skin, possibly soft leather, around the limb, followed by two
coils of the hemp rope, ominously knotted around linchpins at regular
intervals and braided around a two-inch steel rod, which he used as the handle
when tightening the ropes with the same iron pliers.
She was already perspiring heavily, and the burning in her fingers and toes
told her that the cords had been tightened enough to chafe skin, and now the
pain from her legs was rising as he tightened the coils, each turn of the
tourniquet causing her to yelp as they dug deeper and deeper. Her screams rose
in pitch when he repeated the procedure on her thighs, where the ropes dug
much deeper in the soft flesh, although in some cases, for a purpose which she
could not guess, he had first snug small iron strips under the ropes.
Instead of pausing, her tormentor produced more ropes and started winding them
around her limbs, first at each mid point of thigh and leg, then at the mid
point of each intervening space, tightening them while she screamed herself
hoarse as her once shapely legs slowly turned to obscene sausage-like trunks
of quivering constricted flesh, sectioned in bulging ripples between each pair
or coils as they dug deeper and deeper.
Lyral winced at the thought of how painful the blood engorging the folds of
constricted flesh would soon become as circulation was all but cut, with only
the strips of cured flesh preventing the ropes from cutting her friend's limbs
to the bone, severing a major vessel. She had not noticed how iron strips had
been placed exactly to avoid bleeding her to death, and her eyes left her
friend's tormented form when the Southerner drove a needle with a forked tip
in the soft flesh of her left book, pushing it forcefully while she screamed
and twitched from the unimaginable pain.
The Easterner then started winding cords between Kayleen's legs, pulling them
up under her back up to her neck, but instead of tightening them he moved to
her arms, placed wooden chips on her forearms and started tightening ropes
around them in the same manner used for her legs, and kept up at his work, in
spite of her uninterrupted screams of demented agony, until her arms became a
smaller scale replica of her swelling legs.
He let her trash and scream until her tremors subsided, then poured cold, salt
water on her body, unmoved by her screams as the liquid burned her chafed
skin. He paused again, letting the liquid run its course to the fullest, then
poured more salt water, and kept pouring until he was satisfied that the
ropes had been thoroughly soaked. He then proceeded to tighten them all, one
by one, each time wrenching a new scream from her trembling body.
He then started winding ropes around her waist, abdomen and chest, tightening
them on the underlying leather strips, so that each breath became labored,
even painful, but leaving her breasts aside. Temporarily, as it turned out,
because he retrieved the barbed cords wound under her back and distended her
left nipple, elongating it and tightening first a cord around the base and
then one at mid length. She screamed in agony as he twisted each cord, gazing
in horrified fascination at how the linchpins had been placed facing each
other, crushing the delectable flesh between them.
He started laying cords on her chest in preparation, one after the other as
her eyes bulged in fear at their number, and then moved to her crotch and
pulled her cunt lips open, tightening two cords on her love bud while she
trashed in the mesh of cords and howled in agony, and trapping her cunt lips
around a wedge hammered up her vagina, looping a cord tightly around the
painfully distended folds of feminine flesh.
When he knelt under the bench and started shortening the cords connecting her
nipples to her crotch, she started trashing and screaming, unable to arch to
relieve the pull on her clitoris and nipples, which caused her breasts to
distend into cones of throbbing pain. When her trembling subsided, he
straddled her head and pushed his member down her mouth, pouring saltwater
over her restrained form to rekindle her agonies as the saline liquid seeped
into the wounds dug by the ropes and cords all over her body, and her own
jerks worsened their bite onto her flesh while she gurgled pitifully.
Once her breasts elongated far beyond their natural proportions, he started
tightening the cords he had prepared around her breasts, furthering her
torment as the pliable flesh was dug into by the tiny barbs and deformed into
grotesque ripples as he used the tourniquet where mere muscle proved not
enough. Each turn dug the barbs deeper in the soft flesh and squeezed more
salt from the soaked cord, wrenching from her throat a choked scream of
desperate agony while her body shook spasmodically, in spite of her efforts to
be still and spare herself further agonies from her other restrains.
Lyral watched in tears as the violation of her friend's mouth was protracted
alongside the torment of her breasts, unable to avert her gaze even as she
kept telling herself that they had decided to follow in the footsteps of the
old pig from the South after seeing how much rape terrified her. The latter
had been leisurely driving needles under her nails, wrenching howls of insane
torment from her quivering body, but was now engrossed in her friend's plight.
Once spent, the Easterner wound the remaining cords between Kayleen's legs and
around her neck, shortening them with a tourniquet until they started biting
between her cunt lips and cutting into the soft flesh between her orifices,
pouring more salt water whenever she stopped twitching, wrenching new hoarse
screams as he reenacted the first torments visited on her under a harsher
guise, which now included the violation he had previously abstained from.
As if to complete his grisly work, he wound a barbed twine around each of her
nipples and her clitoris, elongating each unmercifully with a pair of iron
pliers in order to find some flesh to tighten them onto while she howled in
unspeakable agony. He then drove a thin needle through each, which caused her
screams to rise as it was coated with some venomous substance, then joined the
three twines under a rope tightened on her belly, and shortened them until
they started tugging cruelly on the delectable pieces of feminine flesh, in
the opposite direction of the cords winding besides her back.
To relieve this torment, she had to bend at the waist, but even what little
relief her restraints would thus allow turned immediately into pain as the
cords under her back pulled in the opposite direction, forcing her to arch
instead, a position which caused the barbed twines to bite into her flesh
again, drawing blood and a heart-rending howl. Unable to find relief, she
started twitching between the two positions, her labored breathing a further
source of torment as her ribcage was encased in the unyielding ropes.
After protracting her torment until her screams subsided, he let her sip from
the jug, sputtering as even sipping was painful, and then with pliers in each
hand started tightening her restraints again, grabbing the steel linchpins and
using them as miniature tourniquets. She started twitching in agony between
the two equally painful positions allowed by her restraints, and screamed at
the top of her lungs when droplets of blood started flowing from her nipples
and clitoris, constricted near bursting point, swelling from the venom on the
needles, bitten by the tiny thorns in the cords and burning from the saltwater
the cords had been repeatedly soaked with.
In spite of the pain from the needles, Lyral trembled at the thought of how
her friend's torment must have been steadily mounting, with the ropes digging
deep and cutting off the circulation, causing the constricted limbs to become
engorged with blood as time went by while no respite was allowed to the
bursting pieces of feminine flesh. Her own flesh hurt horribly whenever the
Southerner leisurely drove another needle in her thighs, buttocks and belly,
teasing her breasts by scratching them while she trembled in dread.
Kayleen's limbs were swollen and purple, four rods of cramped agony where the
ropes had dug so deep that she would be bleeding freely if not for the leather
strips, which had preserved the skin from being sliced through but not from
chafing and incessant burn as they had soaked with saltwater. No such care had
been taken for her breasts and crotch, where the barbed cords had drawn blood,
abrading through the chafed skin whenever tightened and slowly sawing through
her flesh while saltwater seeped in the thin, lacerated wound, drawing ever
shriller screams of hopeless agony from her gaping mouth.
The Easterner fetched more barbed cord and wound it on her legs, between two
coils of rope digging in her calves, tightening it with iron pliers until it
snug onto the soft leather, then using pliers in each hand started dragging it
back and forth while she screamed in agony as the cord bit through the soft
strip into the chafed skin underneath and his forceful sawing motion jerked
her in her restraints, rekindling the torment in her nipples and clitoris.
He moved to the next pair of coils and repeated the procedure, wrenching new
screams of unbridled torment as she convulsed in her restraints under his
unceasing exertion. As the sawing motion protracted, blood started to tinge
the hemp ropes as the barbed cord progressed from scratching the chafed skin
through the soaked leather, to abrading the skin directly while the saltwater
seeped in the wound, and finally to slowly lacerating the flesh as the tiny
barbs sawed deeper and deeper, except where iron strips had been placed to
safeguard major vessels. He paused to drench her thoroughly in saltwater, then
resumed her torment while she screamed and twitched in demented agony.
He alternated between her upper and lower limbs, and her screams rose in pitch
and increased in duration, especially when he started sawing into the flesh of
her thighs. The soft leather no longer prevented blood loss, while the pain
from the compressed limbs found new heights as the constricted blood pulsated
as new avenues were opened to it, so he started alternate the furthering
of her torment with some treatment, smearing the paste they used on open
wounds inside the deep lacerated gashes sawed by the barbed cords.
Each pause, however fleeting, wrought new screams from Lyral's twitching form
as the Southerner drove another needle in her soft flesh, viciously targeting
the parts of the body more vulnerable to pain and as often as not her creamy
breasts, now streaked by rivulets of blood which flowed a little more each
time her body convulsed under her howls of desperate agony.
When the Easterner used the pliers to tighten the cords on Kayleen's fingers
and then started pulling back and forth on the cords, her screams and
convulsions became inhuman as the cord quickly abraded the chafed skin, saw
through flesh and started grating on the bone. Silently, he straddled her
mouth again and pushed his leather wrapped member down her throat, protracting
the torment of her fingers until he came in her mouth. Worse still was the
pain when her toes were subjected to the same torment, some cracking under the
pressure while she howled in sheer agony and tore at her nipple and clitoris
by jerking spasmodically in spite of her restraints.
He wound cords around the ropes constricting her ribcage and started pushing
and pulling on them, alternating between each as the barbs abraded the skin
and scraped the bone while she howled in demented torment, each breath a
piercing blast of searing agony while blood dripped in rivulets from her
wounds still remorselessly burning from saltwater. Rib after rib, he kept
tormenting her chest until her howls turned to wheezes, at which he brought
the jug to her lips again and quickly treated the worst wounds.
When he reached for her breasts, she stiffened and then burst in a scream of
gut-wrenching dread, aware that her nightmare was about to worsen. He started
tearing on the cords biting into her breast flesh, usually pliable but now
taut near bursting point from the protracted constriction and engorged with
blood, abrading the soft skin and lacerating the muscle which twitched as
saltwater seeped from the squeezed cord. Her screams became louder and louder
as the cords sawed deeper, digging profusely bleeding gashes which forced him
to use the paste often, only to see them torn open again when her convulsed
jerks pulled on her nipples and thus at the distended breast flesh.
He moved to her crotch, and she found herself crossing boundaries of pain she
had not conceived as the barbed cord around her lips started lacerating the
folds of soft flesh while he pulled back and forth, the harsh burn of the salt
water no more than a nuisance before the pain in her shredded cunt lips and
the mounting agony in her swelling nipples and clitoris. He brought the jug to
her lips twice, but the sawing of her cunt lips caused her to convulse in
howls of spasming torment, jerking on her nipples and ripping open again the
deep lacerations in her breasts, the blood loss limited only by the viciously
tightened cords tearing through them.
Moaning in horror, Lyral took in her friend's bleeding, lacerated wounds and
pitiful howls, dreading that she would be tortured to death and would not
survive long enough to be healed during the night, so while the Easterner
started pulling back and forth at the cord tightened around the base of her
clitoris, causing inhuman howls of maddened agony to echo under the vaults of
the torture chamber, she shouted, "Enough! You're killing her!"
"She's reaping the fruits of her stubborness, just as you will soon. Reveal to
me where the Sorceress hides, while my patience still lasts," whispered the
robed corpse of the former wizard, leaving his place near her friend's blood
stained twitching body to come near Lyral.
"Lyral! Don't tell him!" croaked Kayleen between a howl and the next.
"Secure her silence, according to the means we discussed, and continue,"
screeched Zhorun, at which the Easterner straddled Kayleen's head and drove
his leather clad member down her mouth, resuming the sawing motion on the cord
at the base of her clitoris while her muffled screams started anew.
"Tell me where the Sorceress is hiding, girl," hissed Zhorun, while Lyral
shook her head in tears at her friend's stifled sounds of agony. But in a
flash she saw herself, her athletic friend and the red-haired Sorceress in
this room, grisly tortured before a throne where Zhorun reveled in the agonies
of those he charged with his downfall, as he was wont to do because of the
nature of the condition he had chosen for himself.
She clenched her lips and lowered her head, her soft weeping turning into a
scream when the Southerner grabbed the needles piercing her nipples and
started twisting and pulling them violently, renewing her torment without
obtaining a single word from his frail but newly determined victim.
Meanwhile, the Easterner rose, ending Kayleen's torment and together with
Grod started treating her wounds, stitching them unceremoniously after using
the paste which helped in reducing blood flow. Wading through pain, Kayleen
recognized the smell, as she had also used some variation thereof before
encountering Lyral, so she knew that the paste would not save her, because she
had lost too much blood. Numbing already, she was forced to drink something
thick and vile, which cleared her mind but burned in her throat, thick with
herbs and strong, while her heart pounded in her chest like never before.
Lyral's screams continued without interruption as the Southerner was twisting
the needles in her flesh with abandon, staining his own white robe with
droplets of blood while she twitched madly in her restraints, her hoarse voice
finding new wind as he started twirling a needle piercing her left nipple
while she shook in the pangs of agony. For the whole duration of Kayleen's
careful treatment, almost long enough to wholly consume the torches, Lyral
howled in sheer agony from the unrelenting torment of the needles.
Recovering, Kayleen closed her eyes, wishing she could close her ears before
her frail friend's screams, well aware that her relief had been decreed only
by the intent to protract her ordeal. Still weak, but somehow recovering from
the lost blood, she sobbed silently when Grod tightened her collar, unfastened
her wrists from the bench and locked the cuffs behind her back at the ends of
a steel bar, ten inches wide and not allowing her wrists any movement. He then
rolled her off the bench and locked her ankle cuffs to the ends of a longer
bar, unfastening her collar before dragging her towards her next ordeal,
ignoring her trembling as she took in what awaited her.
This corner of the torture room was hot from dozens of coal braziers, ranging
from man sized beds of reddish coals to small iron kettles where cinders shone
under the ashes. He lowered a chain from the ceiling which he fastened to her
wrist bar, using it to raise her arms behind her back and continuing after she
started screaming until her feet flailed a inch above the floor. He reached
her quivering form, moved behind her and put his hands on her hips, driving
his leather sheathed member up her ass.
In the distance, Lyral screamed as the Easterner raked her soft back with a
red hot copper hook, distracting her from the effort of understanding what was
happening to her friend. The Southerner had suggested to make it difficult for
her to see what was happening to her friend exactly, to heighten her fears.
Grod's large hands moved to Kayleen's breasts while his thrusts followed her
each scream of bitter pain, building up in rhythm while the wounds on her
breasts bled again as his hands dug into the flesh. Her prolonged violation
ended with a low grunt as he left her swinging and wailing while he selected a
heavy iron brazier where the coals burned bright red.
He smeared her feet with grease, thoroughly, then fastened the steel bar to
a handle above the brazier and started cranking it, bringing her soles near
the searing heat while she writhed in mid air, wailing from the pain in her
torn shoulders. A few more cranks, and her feet started twitching madly while
she screamed in sheer agony as the heat started searing her tender soles.
He let her writhe in agony on the searing flame, then cranked the handle back,
lending her some respite, then renewing her exposure to the blistering heat
and wrenching new screams from her torn mouth as the heat licked at the
sensitized skin, heating the grease which spread the pain and formed bubbles
whose bursting caused spikes of unimaginable pain to sear her skin, sending
her hanging body in frenzies of spasmodic jerks and demented howling.
He kept cranking her feet back and forth, protracting her torment with the
help of the grease which kept bubbling over the smarting skin for some time,
and then removed the brazier and let her hang in coughing agony, weeping and
screaming, her eyes bulging in dread at the sight of the large rectangular
brazier he was laying out under her, her only relief a sip from the jug.
A new scream rose from Lyral as her anxious witnessing of her friend's torment
was brutally interrupted by the hot copper hook tracing a gash under the soft
underside of her left breast. She had realized that her friend was being
tortured with fire, and she was certain that the brutal rapes from the
executioners which had not indulged in them before were the direct consequence
of her inability to hide her horror of the act, but the pain in her soft flesh
prevented her from further dwelling on the matter.
Grod fastened a chain to the bar between Kayleen's ankles, lifting them up at
waist height and bending her painfully, then smeared the bottom of her legs,
up to the buttocks, with grease, and cranked the brazier up until she started
screaming as the heat started searing her flesh. Unbearable pain rose from her
roasted underside as she twitched in mid air, prevented from the unyielding
restraints at her ankles from turning aside and forced to buckle and twitch in
mid air, distancing herself very little from the unrelenting heat but
repeatedly jarring her shoulder joints with white hot blasts of absolute pain.
Her torment was protracted in a frenzy of screams by expertly cranking the
brazier up and down, alternating pauses where the bubbling grease tormented
the sensitized skin with actual exposure to the brunt of the heat, searing the
red skin into blistering and causing bubbles in the grease to burst in spikes
of nightmarish pain which wrenched raucous howls from her twitching form.
Lyral trembled at her friend's harrowing screams, but managed to notice how
Zhorun had silently left her, irresistibly attracted to the harrowing torments
inflicted on the cause of his demise. Lyral tried to purge her mind from the
thought of how painful the heat would be on the places where the sawing cords
had lacerated the skin, reaching the bone.
Kayleen was momentarily allowed some relief, and another sip, then she was
lowered to the floor and pulled up again, stretching her horizontally between
the chains at her ankles and wrists before sliding a brazier under her arms,
changing the cause of her desperate screams from the pain in her torn shoulder
joints to the searing agony of the red hot coals.
After repeatedly cranking the brazier back and forth, causing her to buckle
obscenely in mid air with her spread thighs twitching invitingly, Grod let her
sip again and then moved between her legs, spreading her thighs wider while
she convulsed in howling torment from the blisters bursting in her arms. He
pulled out his member, sheathed it in leather and thrust it viciously into her
vagina, ramming her forcefully while a scream of hopeless outrage joined her
cries of unrelenting torment.
Chased by her own nightmares, Lyral screamed alongside her friend, wishing she
could end all this by revealing Shandra's whereabouts and twitching like a
butterfly on a needle at the thought of the horror of their predicament. There
was a reason she had been taught to dispatch creatures like Zhorun without
hesitation or regard to their plight, and they were living through it now.
Grod kept ramming into Kayleen's love channel while her arms roasted over the
fire, screaming from the humiliating violation as much as from the unrelenting
pain at first, but as the fire kept licking her skin, forming blisters where
the bubbles in the grease burst and then peeling as the heat continued its
unrelenting assault, with the bubbling grease seeping into her stitched wounds
and causing her heaves and buckles to jar her shoulder joints to unprecedented
heights of agony, her world shrunk to a searing hell of howling flame.
In spite of her inhuman screams, he moved to crank the brazier away only
after cruelly protracting her violation, as her screams turned delirious and
the smell of burnt flesh rose from the raw underside of her arms. He let her
sip from the jug, and removed the brazier before lowering her to the floor,
but only to pull her up again while she wailed in dread as she was now lying
face down while he smeared grease on her belly.
He brought another brazier under her and cranked it up slowly, letting her
strain her shoulder joints between hoarse screams in the vain attempt to gain
an inch from the searing heat as she slumped pulled up between the chains. Her
voice reached a new pitch of frightened despair when the coals started heating
the grease under her muscular abdomen, starting her agony anew as she writhed
in her restraints and twitched in spasmodic torment.
After cranking the brazier back and forth, prolonging her suffering through
repeated frenzies of howling agony, he let her sip from the jug and once again
lowered her on the floor only to pull her up again, her arms still torn in
their sockets while a brazier was placed under her back and her suffering
began anew, to be protracted into a hell of unrelenting flame which first
tenderized her skin, tormenting it incessantly with the bubbling grease, then
caused it to blister, each blister bursting a new peak of harrowing torment
for the spasmodically convulsing young woman, then brought it to flake and
peel away, exposing the twitching crimson flesh underneath.
Lyral's breath raced as her friend was exposed to a heat she could only judge
by the increasingly horrid conditions of her friend's body. Most of her back
was angry red, and distance spared her the sight of the oozing blisters, but
where the skin flaked she could see the crimson of raw flesh. The torturers
obviously knew of how she healed her friend each night and had come to rely
on that, as even her strong friend would not survive the torments being
wrought upon her for long.
Kayleen was forced to sip from the jug again, and hung from the ceiling, her
ankles pulled up behind her. In spite of her pitiful screaming, a brazier was
placed under her grease smeared breasts and the cruelty of her torment was
raked up a notch as the heat seared her nipples, the bubbling grease scorching
the delicate flesh while she howled and buckled in unparalleled agony each
time Grod replaced the grease on her blistered buds and cranked the brazier
close again. Beyond increasing her torment, however, the grease preserved her
nipples from charring in the heat while the brazier was brought close enough
to turn her breasts into angry red mounds of scorched skin.
Cranking the brazier back and forth, he kept roasting her mounds, wreaking
unspeakable agonies in her boiled nipples and slowly turning her breast flesh
to a deep crimson, the skin peeling off in places and revealing the oozing,
raw flesh underneath. Her frenzy of pain-wracked howls found new heights when
he started raking the scorched flesh with a cat's paw, its fine points barely
scratching the surface but wreaking untold agonies in her breasts.
Lyral winced as she saw in her mind the points of the instrument tearing lines
of sheer agony in the burnt flesh, reopening the wounds left by the cords and
letting the bubbling grease seep in, causing the screams of harrowing agony
which escaped her friend's mouth. Her own screams, wrought from her mouth by
the red hot copper hook whenever the torment of her friend was paused, could
barely be noticed against the backdrop of Kayleen's unceasing suffering.
Kayleen kept screaming while Grod lowered her, poured the remaining contents
of the jug down her mouth and lifted her again, bringing the brazier under her
buttocks and quickly rekindling her torment while her sight cleared, causing
her voice to rise again in an unabated howl of dreadful agony as the fate met
by her once proud breasts was being visited on her firm ass cheeks.
He kept her screaming on the brazier, cranking it back and forth while she
howled in absolute agony, raking her with the cat's paw after pulling the heat
away and dragging some bubbling grease on the paw's points between the short
curls of her pubic hair. In spite of her desperate howls of unbridled agony,
however, something inside her was still strong enough to hold on.
Amazingly, Lyral felt the same sensation moments before losing herself in the
world of her own personal torment as the hot copper hook raked her left nipple
again, the realization of her friend's unparalleled bravery helping her to
resist the harrowing pain, as she found in herself the strength to withstand
the red hot tip of the hook lacerating her right nipple by remembering in her
mind the wisps of smoke rising from her friend's pubic hair.
Grod lowered Kayleen on the floor, and freed her ankles from the steel bar
only to cuff them to chains leading to nearby pillars which he used to pull
her up and spread her legs horizontally, then attached another chain to her
wrist bar and pulled her arms up, twisting them in their sockets and pulling
them above her head until she was lifted off the floor, screaming as the pull
tore unbearably at her shoulder sockets while he greased her front thoroughly.
He fetched another brazier, which unlike the others had rows of thin iron
spikes jutting upwards, and placed it under her, causing her to scream in
dread and pain once he adjusted its height as the spikes were red hot from the
coals beneath. But her howls rose to new heights once he cranked up the bed of
coals, exposing her whole front to the brunt of the heat in the same manner
already faced by other areas of her body.
Her slightly slumped position was matched by the reclined placement of the
brazier, which meant that her raw breasts were not exposed to much more heat
than the rest of her body, but also that her tender vulva was, and soon the
grease started bubbling between her cunt lips while she twitched and buckled
in maddened agony, trashing on the iron points which fulfilled the same
function of raking the sensitized skin he had performed manually with the
cat's paw, but were still red hot even when the brazier was lowered.
After cranking the brazier back and forth repeatedly, he lowered the coals,
fetched a thick poker from the coals and pushed it inside her ass, wrenching
a bitter howl of unbridled agony as the red hot metal seared her bowels, and
keeping her screaming while he reamed her sphincter raw. He then let her sip
from the jug again, brought the coals up and moved behind her, sheathing his
member in leather before driving it through her burned sphincter with a
powerful thrust which wrenched a heart-rending screech from her torn mouth
and violating her bowels with powerful thrusts while she convulsed on the hot
coals and the iron points raked her scorched flesh.
Lyral literally shrunk in her restraints as the violation of her friend was
again perpetrated before her eyes, praying softly to be allowed the resolve to
withstand the sight and not spoil inconsiderately the fate of them all. She
tried to distance her mind from the thought of the grease bubbling in the
lacerated wounds, of the skin flaking away under the unrelenting heat, of the
tender cunt lips writhing in unparalleled agony, concentrating on the thought
that they had to live through this day until she could heal her friend again.
Grod kept thrusting into Kayleen with jarring force, scraping her burnt ass in
blazes of hellish agony while her skin blistered under the heat and grease
bubbled on her scorched nipples, peeling them raw. Her howls of insane agony
mounted under the vaults of the chamber, subsiding only when he finally came
and cranked the brazier down, although she still twitched from the unceasing
raking of the iron points, screaming in bitter pain.
He fetched the iron poker again and pushed it into her vagina, bringing her
howls of unspeakable agony to new heights and pushing her farther along the
brazier, at which the points traced new bleeding scratches in her blistered
skin and tore new screams from her sore mouth. He cranked the brazier up while
keeping the poker pressed into her, reaming the rim of her vagina and exposing
her privates to the heat, setting the curls of her pubic hair on fire so that
when he pulled it out she kept buckling and trashing on the iron points,
screaming madly from the unceasing torment.
He brought the jug to her lips, then shifted some of the iron points under her
crotch before pushing the iron poker into her womb again, rubbing it viciously
back and forth while the points raked inside her spread cunt lips and grease
bubbled on her clitoris, viciously protracting her agonies by alternating the
hot poker and the brazier, making sure her nipples and clitoris kept bubbling
with hot grease and slowly peeled raw while the iron points occasionally raked
the tormented pieces of feminine flesh, wreaking untold agonies through her
convulsing body and drawing new screams of unparalleled woe from her throat.
Shaken, but determined to hold on, Lyral could not help but wince at every
scream and twitch of her tormented friend, blessedly unable to tell exactly
what she was undergoing but weeping bitter tears whenever the unmistakable
poker scorched her friend's innards. She was spared the sight of the nipples
and feminine parts scorched raw from the unrelenting heat, but not that of
another rape as Grod drove into her friend's vagina from behind, scraping the
scorched flesh amid a renewed frenzy of harrowing screams.
The Southerner stepped silently in Grod's place when the latter was finally
done and stood still, watching Kayleen writhe and scream in her restraints,
still shaking from the rape and at the same time seeking some respite from the
hot spikes, her thighs twitching invitingly in the effort to put some distance
between her burnt flesh and the iron points. He waited until his arousal
bulged under his white robe, then sheathed his member in leather and neared,
nudging the rim of her vagina and smiling when she cried in dread and dismay.
With a sinister smile, he cranked the brazier up, rekindling the agonies of her
scorched flesh, and once her screams rose again frantically, thrust his member
into her womb, pushing her forward again on the points and exposing once more
her tender parts to the heat. He kept thrusting viciously, grunting in a rut
which was fueled by her pitiful, bitter howls, but thankfully his arousal was
quickly consumed this time and he let go of her hips with a growl, although she
kept screaming until he cranked the brazier down.
Unable to withstand the sight, but even less able to avert her gaze, Lyral
squirmed in her restraints at the abject performance, engrossed to the point
of noticing how Grod was encasing her chest in a mesh of spiked chains only at
the very last moment. The reason her tormentor was using tongs became plain as
Kayleen's rape ended and the mesh, which was actually a kind of a shirt with a
hole for the head, was dropped on her and turned out to be searing hot. Her
howl of surprised agony superseded her friend's screams, and immediately the
only thing on her mind became how to get rid of the hellish shirt.
Without bothering to tighten Kayleen's collar, the Southerner unfastened the
bar at whose ends her wrists had been locked from the chain, ignoring her moan
of relief, and rolled her off the brazier, freeing her legs and ending her
relief as lying on her blistered back on the stone floor proved a torture unto
itself, causing her to scream and buckle in the attempt to lessen the
harrowing pains caused by the slightest contact with her severely burned skin.
Ignoring her screams, he doubled her left leg at the knee and tied her shin
under the thigh with a thick hemp rope, then did the same with her right leg
but tying the rope near the knee rather than the hip. He wound more thick hemp
rope around her breasts, and fastened it over her shoulders to her wrists
cuffed behind her back in a reverse prayer position. He then dragged her to a
post, fastened her right ankle cuff to a chain and pulled her up, letting her
scream from renewed pain as her weight partly rested on her left knee and
partly bent her right leg, while the ropes chafed her scorched skin.
Two barbed wooden wedges were pushed into her nether orifices, wrenching a
howl of desperate agony from her trembling body, and weighted clamps were hung
to her nipples and clitoris. He put the finishing touch on his grisly work by
forcing his flaccid member into her mouth, mimicking a violation he was not
able to effect in order to return to one of his favored techniques, ramming
the barbed wedges against the post by thrusting into her mouth and savoring
her harrowing screams around his member.
He kept up this torment until her forced pleasuring of his member subsided, at
which he removed part of her restraints, winding more hemp rope around her
legs and chest and fastening the clamps, including those just tightened on her
cunt lips, to her right ankle cuff. When he pulled her up by her left ankle
again, the coarse rope chafed her scorched skin like a thousand angry bees,
wrenching a harrowing scream of agony from her tormented throat and causing
her to buckle spasmodically, pulling on the clamps with the full strength of
her leg muscles thus inflicting fresh agonies on her scorched flesh. Her
screams rose to desperate howls when he started to slowly rip her fingernails
off with iron pliers, one by one.
Meanwhile, Lyral found herself in the grip of unrelenting pain as the hot
chains burned her flesh while the spikes pierced shallow wounds, her own
convulsing jerks causing them to find new skin to torment. For the first time
in days, she was being tortured without interruption, and she found herself
shriveling under the unrelenting assault, her friend's harrowing violation now
but a forgotten stain in the canvas of horror she writhed on.
After letting Kayleen sip from the jug, the Southerner cuffed her wrists and
elbows together, then pulled her arms up behind her, fastening her wrists to a
chain from the ceiling and forcing her to sit on sharp iron spikes, which
raked her scorched buttocks while she screamed her lungs out as he wound
coarse hemp rope around her thighs and legs, fastening them to a pole snug
between them and driving a large, barbed wooden wedge deep into her vagina.
His reasons for forcing her legs to bend slightly at the knee instead of
distending became painfully obvious when he refastened her nipple, cunt lips
and clitoris clamps to her ankle cuffs, shortening the fine chains so that by
extending her legs she would rip her tormented pieces of feminine flesh off.
When he started pulling her toenails with iron pliers, she had to fight the
reaction to extend her legs as this caused the pain in the scorched pieces of
feminine flesh to rise above the agony from her toes, but the fiendishness of
the torture was revealed as he suddenly released the grip on the half torn
nail, causing her to ram the wedge down her bleeding sex in reaction with the
full force of her strong leg muscles between howls of spasmodic pain.
He kept up this torment with cruel patience, putting off the ripping of her
toenails to let her repeatedly drive the wedge unto herself, actually ripping
one off only when she stopped pulling against the pliers to lessen the effect
of recoil. After dozens of strikes, the wedge was covered in blood and rasped
flesh, while the scorched rim of her vagina was in bloody tatters.
The young Priestess kept screaming while Grod rekindled the heat in the chains
by catching them between the jaws of white hot pliers, but the sight of the
bloody violation of her friend somehow strengthened the little resolve she
could muster. In a haze of pain, her gaze found the silent figure of the
former wizard watching intently the suffering of her poor friend, and horror
swept over her as her fears found further confirmation.
The Southerner poured the contents of the jug down Kayleen's throat, then
doubled both her legs at the knee and tightened more coils of coarse rope on
her scorched flesh before winding the fine chains from her nipple clamps
behind her back and fastening them to her ankle cuffs. He then cuffed her
wrists to chain from the ceiling and pulled her off the floor, smiling as her
arms started twisting her shoulder sockets and at the same time pulled her
ankles, distending her scorched breasts under the chafe of the tight hemp
rope. He raised her until he could push his member into her sore mouth, then
procured another barbed wedge, consisting of four sections, and pushed it down
her anus while she gurgled her unbridled agonies onto his member.
When her convulsions subsided, he drove a larger four-piece wedge down her
vagina, watching intently as the device bulged under her scorched mons and the
rim of her love channel bled where the barbs had ripped the stretched flesh,
counting on how her tongue scream after scream brushed his member to renew
his arousal just as her suffering renewed his ecstatic pleasure.
To further his bliss, he drove another wedge between the four sections of the
one already bulging in her bowels, using a hammer for the last half of its
course and trembling when her muffled howls rose in unspeakable torment as the
rim of her sphincter was ripped open and the barbs tore deeper in the scorched
flesh of her anal tract. And he shook with pleasure while doing the same with
the wedge into her vagina, accompanying her spasmodic convulsions with hammer
strikes while her bellows rose to high pitched shrieks of abject pain.
He kept up her torment until he noticed the first signs of renewed arousal, at
which he pulled out of her and lowered her to the floor. He then removed the
barbed wedges, summarily treated her bleeding orifices and tightened dozens of
clamps on her cunt lips and clitoris, keeping his arousal fanned with the
sight of her twitching thighs as each movement caused her ankles to pull on
her distended nipples, now bleeding after being raked over and over.
Grod had made sure that pauses in Lyral's torture did not match those in her
friend's torment, but the Southerner proved less thorough, allowing Lyral to
spend some of her respite in assessing her friend's condition. Fear mounted in
her as her eyes confirmed her worst fears, as after losing blood profusely for
half a day and being severely burned over most of her body she was now being
chafed raw by the hemp ropes, not to mention the bleeding violation of her
orifices which caused more blood loss.
With a growl, the Southerner pulled on the clamps to lift Kayleen's hips off
the floor and draw her bleeding vagina onto his leather sheathed member,
savoring her scream of agony and dismay as he abjectly violated her again,
ripping the clamps off with shreds of scorched skin attached as he forced her
to gyrate and twist around his bulging penis and periodically tightening her
collar to force her torn muscles to clutch it while she fought for breath
between frenzies of insane screaming and long howls of sheer agony.
In spite of his rut, he protracted her rape as far as he could, pulling out
often and then ramming his member viciously back into her bleeding orifice,
not stopping even when the last clamp was bloodily yanked off, grabbing
instead the sparse curls of her remaining pubic hair, adding a new drop to the
sea of torment washing over her to bring her abject violation to completion.
Lyral's gaze never left her poor friend's body, and just as their suffering
reached a new peak she found the words for praying again, asking softly
between a scream and the next for the strength to hold on against he onslaught
of evil now being visited on them and soon to wreak havoc unto the whole land.
Panting, the Southerner dragged Kayleen to the post and fastened her to it at
her neck, pulling her arms up against the post while she cried as they were
painfully twisted again. He removed the coarse ropes from her limbs, paying
little heed to the blood which stained them, and cuffed her ankles to chains
from the ceiling, suspending her in midair with her legs spread.
Smiling cruelly, he produced a bundle of branches and leaves which he dragged
on her raw flesh, wrenching a horrified scream from her torn mouth as the
harsh burn of the stinging tree on scorched flesh was infinitely worse than on
bare skin. He kept dragging the hellish leaves all over her body, lingering on
the places where the raw flesh flared its angry crimson or where the skin was
swollen and blistered, reaming both her orifices at length while she buckled
in spasmodic torment, howling her misery unto the dark vaults.
He released her when her screams waned, bringing the jug to her lips and then
doubled her legs at the knee again, winding hemp rope around them and using it
as a harness to keep two barbed wooden wedges deeply lodged into her orifices
while she screamed in mad agony. He then wound coils of rope around her
chafed breasts and pulled her up by her breasts, lifting her about a foot off
the floor and then letting her fall to impale her ravaged innards on the
barbed wedges with a howl of harrowing torment.
After protracting this torment at his leisure, he lowered her on the floor
and turned her on her belly, fastening her ankles to her wrists before pulling
her up in a suspended hogtie and pushing his member down her throat again,
renewing her agonies by slamming the wedges in her crotch against the post by
pushing rhythmically onto her face, repeatedly, enjoying the anticipation of
how he would complete her torment once his arousal was rekindled.
As her friend's screams were now muffled, the words of Lyral's prayer could be
heard for a moment, "... and from the walking dead deliver us." Stymied, Grod
tugged at the hot spikes, raking her and causing her to scream hoarsely, but
Zhorun started as if bitten.
Laughing, the Southerner fetched a heavy iron grid, with short dull spikes at
each intersection, and dragged Kayleen nearby. In spite of her condition, she
resisted his attempts to put her on the grid, capitulating only when he
tightened her collar, restricting her breathing and turning her howl as the
points dug into her burnt flesh in a pitiful, stifled gurgle.
He let her breathe normally again, and soon rekindled her screams by grabbing
her left wrist, twisting it behind her back as if to bind it in a reverse
prayer position, then pulling it outwards and down until he managed to cuff it
to the grid. He did with the same with her other wrist, ignoring her screams of
pain as her arms were horribly twisted and her front, especially her breasts,
was being forced on the spikes.
He then grabbed her left leg and pulled it to the left and up until he managed
to summarily bind her ankle to a corner of the grid with a cord. He repeated
the procedure with her other leg, smiling as this position forced her front,
especially her mons, to press painfully unto the spikes. He then placed on her
shoulders a grid not unlike the one she lay on, then fetched her left ankle and
twisted it up until he managed it to fasten it to the grid above.
Once he had done the same with both ankles, twisting her legs painfully, he
adjusted the grids so that they lined up and started tightening them using
screws placed in the four corners, slowly compressing her between the spikes
while she howled from the pain in her limbs and the cruel bite of the spikes on
her scorched flesh. He paused only to insert more grid sections around her
constricted torso, which he then tightened using screws, slowly compressing her
in a cage of merciless spikes and unrelenting distortion of the limbs.
Smiling, he circled her, disrobed, and nudged the entrance of her vagina, again
waiting for her cry of dismay at her impending violation before thrusting his
leather sheathed member inside her, grabbing the iron grid with both hands to
brace before each thrust, and occasionally twisting the grid left and right to
forcibly twist her around his hard member, savoring the screams of agony
issuing from her torn mouth as her constricted form, so tightly encased between
bars and spikes that each breath was a torment, was being raped yet again.
When his arousal was finally spent, he stood panting for a while, watching his
victim moan in her cage, screaming occasionally when the spikes punished each
deep breath, then fetched another grid section and pushed it against her
exposed bottom, smiling as the spikes dug into her flesh causing her to twitch
wildly, screaming pitifully while he fastened the last piece of the cage.
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