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Chapter 19 - No Respite Allowed
Lyral cried bitterly when her aching muscles gave way and she fell back onto
the stone floor. Her ankles had been cuffed together under her to a ring in
the floor, her arms bent under her neck and similarly restrained, in a
position which caused her hellish pangs from her arms and shoulders. Above her
head, in the darkness, her friend's head faced hers, and she winced whenever
tears landed on her face. Her friend had been forced to straddle a large wooden
wedge, cruelly set with tiny spikes not only on the top edge but also on the
sloping sides, and had been repeatedly doused with freezing cold salt water.
Kayleen's arms had been cuffed behind her and then pulled above her head,
forcing her to lean on the wedge with her front and rub the inner sides of her
lacerated breasts on the spikes while her collar was fastened to the near end
of the device. An iron band had been savagely tightened around her waist and
her legs had been bent at the knee and fastened ankle to thigh, so that when
she tried to lift her bleeding crotch from the edge the spikes dug in the
lacerated insides of her thighs causing her to scream bitterly.
In order to heal her shivering friend, Lyral had to push herself up, but even
in her best bridge push-up she could only reach the hair, and after hours of
torment her arms and shoulders hurt terribly when she attempted it. Healing
from the lips trough the hair was possible, but terribly curtailed, with an
effectiveness far short of what her friend needed.
"Heal yourself, Lyral. You cannot heal me tonight," whispered Kayleen.
"Kayleen, please try. You've been on the edge of death twice today. The paste
they used on your wounds barely staunched your bleeding, but half of your skin
has been scraped off. If you lower your head, I could restore you to ..."
"Face another day in hell," sobbed Kayleen.
Lyral stood still, chilled by the prospect that her brave friend could lose
heart. She had been looking to the strong woman as a paramount of courage and
resolve, while despising her own weakness, and now she had no safe harbor for
her fears and doubts. "Kayleen, ..."
"Don't worry, Lyral, I don't mean to give up. It's just that sometimes I would
like, for example, to get these cuffs off just long enough to snap Zhorun's
neck. Never mind. get ready," said Kayleen, gathering her resolve to gain the
inch which would allow her friend to heal her. She forced herself onto the
wedge, compressing her chest and screaming hoarsely as the spikes dug in her
sternum. This allowed Lyral to reach her friend's head and start the healing
process, at least until her muscles could no longer sustain her bridge push-up
and she fell down, screaming from the pain in her throbbing shoulders.
If she healed herself, she would still be unable to keep up a bridge push-up
for long, so she chose to heal her friend instead. It took her many torturous
attempts, but she managed to convey some of her remaining power into healing
her friend at the price of awful pain in her shoulders.
"I feel much better," lied Kayleen, sensing what was going on.
"Thanks, but I know," replied Lyral, well aware that her friend's healing had
been incomplete. The healing power worked from the inside out and from worst
to least, so dangerous internal wounds had been repaired but her skin had been
restored only partially. Her burns would still hurt, and she would not face
the day ahead with a body restored to its full health. Somehow, Lyral felt
that this had been the intent of their torturers from the beginning.
"Kayleen, if they insist on curtailing the healing I can deliver, you'll be
ground into submission sooner or later, by exhaustion if nothing else. How
much time can your bravery still buy ?" asked Lyral.
"All the time I can, Lyral. I doubt the capture of Shandra would improve our
position. Taking my life would thwart him, sure, but I have not been given
many chances, and if the first attempt fails they would make sure I could not
try again. Besides, I would abandon you in their hands," whispered Kayleen.
Lyral trembled at the thought, and had to admit that even if she could muster
the resolve to take her own life in moments such as now when they were given
some semblance of respite, she could not bear the thought of abandoning her
friend, bereft of what little comfort her healing brought. Her mind still
shivered at the memory of the anguish she had sensed when healing her the
first time, from the accumulated agonies of days and days of torture; even if
the individual torments had grown harsher thereafter, she had not experienced
anything comparable again. She only said, "I'll be with you, whatever you
decide. But we must rest now,"
Neither found much rest, especially Kayleen under the pain of her twisted arms
and the unrelenting torment of the wedge, but when the light from the torches
marked the start of another day of torments, their eyes exchanged a gaze of
mutual support and encouragement.
Lyral gulped when the Southerner neared her, freeing her from the rings in the
floor only to drag her across the chamber to the wooden ladder, where her
ankles and wrists were fastened to the device. But when she saw the glass jars
where horrific critters twitched ominously, a wail rose from her lips and she
started praying softly in terrified whispers.
Grod tightened Kayleen's collar before releasing her arms, and while a fitful
sigh escaped her lips he rolled her off the wedge and dragged her by her legs
between two pillars, where her ankles were fastened to chains which he then
pulled up to spread her legs wide in a lewd inverted suspension. When he
grabbed the wrists and twisted them, first under her and then above her head
again, a bitter cry surged from her mouth as the ache in her arms and
shoulders had not healed and was now being rekindled.
He then started pouring water on her, freezing cold salt water. She screamed
as the salt seeped again in her wounds, buckling in the taut chains, although
the pain was less excruciating than the day before when the same treatment had
been visited on flesh scraped raw. Yet, the water was so cold and she was
drenched with such insistence that she started to shiver, and the cold became
painful when he doused her with a powder so cold that it almost burned, while
vapor rose from her skin turned pale and covered in icicles.
He fetched a barbed flogger and with a powerful swing raked its tails on her
ass cheeks, wrenching a pitched scream of utter agony from her mouth as a pain
surpassing all her previous whippings radiated from her buttocks. She screamed
again when the next strike landed on her left thigh, coiling around the limb
and leaving tiny wounds which immediately oozed blood.
A third strike hit her on her other thigh, and the fourth squarely on her
crotch, sending droplets of blood spraying while her mouth bellowed in the
throngs of agony. He paused while she writhed in torment, then flogged her
crotch again, and again, landing over a dozen evenly spaced strikes between
her splayed legs while she screamed in inhuman pain.
He then reduced the pull on the chains, lowering her loins until she was at
the right height, then silently penetrated her suffering vagina, ignoring her
howl of rage and pain as the violation scraped her dry innards. Holding her
hips, he kept pushing back and forth with methodical force, probably aware of
how his thrusts jarred her shoulder joints, furthering her agony.
As the rape was protracted, it was as if despair was seeping, scream after
scream, in her voice, and he increased his rhythm, climaxing within her with a
long deep breath. Her chest heaved in bitter cries, and then she screamed when
he poured more cold saltwater on her before flogging her repeatedly again. As
if the thought of breaking her with his manhood excited him, his member rose
again while he kept flogging her feminine parts and he renewed her violation
viciously while she writhed and buckled, screaming in forlorn torment.
The rapes of her friend, much to Lyral's chagrin, were meant for her, but this
time the Southerner apparently intended to torture her in earnest, because he
repeatedly dragged a venomous caterpillar on her pale skin, rubbing it under
the armpits, or under the soles of her feet, keeping it there while she burst
in screams of harrowing agony and was too absorbed in her own torment to take
notice of what was being perpetrated on her friend.
Kayleen's second violation was brief, as Grod's excitement brought him to come
rather quickly, but he kept shaking her body for a while before pulling the
chains taut again and savagely lashing her ass cheeks. In a change from his
previous technique, he was now repeatedly targeting the same area of the body
over and over and frequently pouring cold water, maybe because it did not
linger as long as during the previous sessions because of her position.
He lashed her left leg, coiling the tails around her calf and tracing deep
crimson wounds which oozed blood after the barbs had torn the skin, causing
her to jerk in abysmal torment and scream helplessly as lash after lash left
its mark. When he switched to her right thigh, her screams became louder and
more desperate as the soft skin of the inner thigh was cruelly raked by the
barbed tails while her body trembled in a frenzy of anguished screams.
When he moved to her front, a sigh of despair coursed through her chest and
became a scream when the flogger slashed her breasts, still wounded from the
day before and burning from the salt, spraying droplets of blood as the barbs
tore the skin. Instead of continuing, he let her sip from the jug, but then
resumed the flogging of her breasts in earnest while her screams found new
strength as the horrific barbs raked them mercilessly, rising to howls of
unspeakable torment when a barb ripped a tiny bit of flesh from a nipple.
Lyral's respite was an indirect consequence of her friend's agony, however, as
the Southerner's gaze turned to the screaming blonde, ogling the strong thighs
and sumptuous breasts writhing under the barbed flogger. Lyral gasped when she
saw bits of flesh being ripped off her friend's breasts by the merciless tails
as a inhuman scream echoed in the chamber, aware that the cold water increased
the pain while reducing the blood loss.
After protracting the torment of Kayleen's breasts, Grod circled her writhing
body and targeted her back, first between her shoulder blades and then slowly
moving up to the small of her back, always pausing between a strike and the
next and pouring cold water on her withering form, keeping her in
uninterrupted torment as the screams caused by the bloody whipping were
interspersed with the cries caused by the harsh sting of the salt water.
The hellish barbs tore the skin of her back in dozens of places, leaving tiny
wounds along the thin welts like pearls of blood on a cord, but the shivering
cold she was being subjected to somehow reduced her blood loss, although it
made the pain all the more unbearable. Her back slowly turned into a nightmare
of welts and wounds, oozing blood and burning horribly from the salt in the
tiny wounds. Her screams rose to a frightening pitch as he repeatedly lashed
the small of her back, tearing at wounded skin with all his strength.
He changed his position slightly while she writhed in desperate agony, and her
gaze frantically looked around fearing that he would target her front again.
The next strike landed instead on her left side, tracing thin welts on the
ribcage but sending the barbs coiling around onto her left breast, wrenching a
new howl of unparalleled torment from her torn mouth.
He poured more cold water on her front, then when she stopped writhing encased
the base of each breast in a tight iron ring, causing them to bulge out of her
chest and bleed from the many tiny wounds. The next strikes landed on her arms
and while she screamed in agony, she was painfully aware that he was just
waiting for her breasts to swell from the constricted blood. She tried to
gather her resolve, telling herself that she only had to hold on until evening
came, telling herself that they could not break her, telling herself that they
were desperate for time, her mind spinning around the ever increasing torments
being wrought on her and dreading the long hours before dusk.
With methodical cruelty, he started whipping her sides, making sure the tails
coiled around and raked their barbs on her taut belly, spacing his strikes so
that each scream was not quite finished before pouring more water, but waiting
for her gasps and cries to finish after doing so. The welts and wounds marking
her pale skin traced a web of torment which was sapping her will, as if the
extreme pain of the barbed whip was somehow more intense than the harrowing
torments she had been put through in the preceding days.
Lyral cried in sheer agony when the Southerner returned briefly to rubbing the
horrid caterpillars on her soft breasts, but she started praying under her
breath for her friend, whose wounds she would be able to heal only in part and
so would be denied any rest or respite from the horrid attentions of Zhorun's
minions. The former wizard stood, completely motionless, less than two feet
from Kayleen's screaming and convulsing form, apparently transfixed by her
agonies and, Lyral suspected, discovering how they soothed his own.
Despair tinged Kayleen's inhuman screams as Grod started whipping her legs
again, ripping bits of flesh from the limbs kept taut by the chains while her
chest shook back and forth spasmodically. The wounds in her breasts were
bleeding again as the blood engorged the constricted flesh, but the rest of
her body was not, and her pale skin shivered while he repeatedly poured cold
water all over her, not excluding her breasts, causing her to cry in harrowing
pain from the relentless burn of the salt in her wounds.
He fetched a number of clamps and cruelly distended her cunt lips, exposing
her feminine parts and her clitoris which had already been whipped before her
rape. When the first strike landed between her inner lips, she bent at the
waist and howled in absolute agony as a droplets of blood sprayed after a bit
of flesh was ripped from the rim of her vagina. Why did they always target her
there, she asked herself in a haze of numbing pain, her grip on the reality of
her condition teetering momentarily.
More howls of unparalleled agony followed as the tails raked repeatedly her
soft nether regions, reaching a new peak when her clitoris was raked by a barb
while her body stiffened in an arch of desperate pain from the previous strike
under whose effects she was still screaming her lungs out.
At the top of her agony, he landed another vicious strike aimed at ripping
another bit of flesh from her clitoris and then penetrated her vagina again,
thrusting his member into her without even lowering her as before, forcing
himself on her with all his weight as the chains pulled on her limbs and pain
surged in her ankles while his member scraped her innards.
Panting, he pushed his manhood back and forth with cruel strength, twisting
left and right while she writhed between screams of dismay and gasps of acute
pain. To protract her humiliation, he stopped after a while and whipped her
again a couple times, then resumed her violation after pouring more saltwater
on her twitching form without waiting for her screams to subside.
Lyral, being momentarily spared the hellish torment of the caterpillars as her
tormentor savored the sight of her friend's violation in aroused anticipation,
inspected her friend's body frantically, trembling at the thought of how she
could best heal her with the limited power she would be afforded. In spite of
the continual dousing with ice cold water, too many wounds oozed blood.
After interrupting and resuming Kayleen's violation twice more, Grod finally
came inside her ravished love channel, possibly in spite of himself, but kept
his manhood inside her while she shook from the pain and humiliation of the
brutal rape. After composing himself, he let her sip from the jug and then
circled her, reaching her front and bringing the flogger in a wide swoop on
her right thigh, rekindling her screams as the barbs tore the soft skin.
The next strike was placed across her breasts, targeting the soft undersides
which exploded in pain as the barbs left tiny wounds in the constricted flesh
while her chest shook under a scream of sheer agony which had few equals in
what had been heard in this torture chamber. In a haze of pain, the thought of
how wrong she had been in assuming that a whipping would be easier to
withstand flashed through her minds, immediately confirmed by a white hot
blast of pain from her thigh as the barbs ripped more flesh from it.
With time, the strikes on her thighs alternated with those on her breasts on a
regular basis, as the number of wounds left by the barbs on her cold skin rose
to frightening levels while she buckled spasmodically under each strike, since
very little of her exposed skin had been spared and when a barb raked the welt
left by a previous strike a blast of unbearable pain seared through her
writhing body and a howl of pure agony rose to her tired lips.
Lyral vainly attempted to hide how her friend's screams made her shiver, but
only managed to avert her gaze, prompting her tormentor to rub the venomous
bristles of a fresh caterpillar under her left nipple with a laugh which her
scream drowned immediately. If they were buying time for their friends, they
were paying a horrid price for it.
Kayleen's body was now covered by rivulets of blood oozing from countless tiny
wounds where the barbs had ripped the skin, and after being whipped repeatedly
in places where the wounds were crowded together she was finally exposed to a
new level of pain as a barb ripped through the wound left by another, bringing
her to scream in demented agony while her body stiffened and then convulsed in
a jerk which could have snapped her spine.
When her throes subsided, Grod brought the jug to her lips, then raised the
flogger and brought it down on her left breast, bringing one of the barbs to
land on her nipple and causing her to scream in renewed torment. The next
strike landed between her legs, and a barb ripped a tiny bit of flesh from her
exposed clitoris, drawing a howl of inhuman agony from her sore mouth while
his evil intent started dawning on her.
Striking repeatedly, with skilled blows which caused the barbs to rake her
feminine flesh more often than not, he slowly dragged her down into pits of
hell she had not experienced yet, at the bottom of which lied the torment he
had demonstrated on her flesh and wanted to visit on her femininity. Strike
after strike, he repeatedly wrenched screams of anguished pain from her lips
until her nipples and clitoris were covered in tiny wounds.
When he managed to send a barb to rip through the raw flesh of her left
nipple, her howl rose to heights which had been seldom heard in this chamber
before, echoing under the dark vaults and fading only to be replaced by
another as he managed to obtain the same result again. He poured more salt
water on her writhing form, then when her cries subsided resumed whipping her
clitoris until her voice burst in another howl of unspeakable agony as her
love bud was ripped through by a barb and pain unlike any she had experienced
so far blazed through her convulsing body.
While she was still screaming from this last strike, he neared and penetrated
her again, fanning her screams to a new peak as his manhood scraped the rim of
her vagina where the barbs had ripped tiny wounds. Pain, rage and humiliation
roared in her voice as she started screaming in rhythm with his unrelenting
humping, writhing in his grip while he kept her at crotch height by leaning on
her with his full weight with each thrust, yanking her legs painfully and
subjecting her again to a humiliation which had grown more and more unbearable
as the repeated violations had followed one another.
Lyral twitched in mad agony from the stinging touch of the caterpillars under
the soft undersides of her creamy breasts. Her tormentor had momentarily
resumed her torture, but was looking forward to abusing her friend, as between
tears she saw him swallow some moldy concoction while watching. When Grod
finally pulled out of her friend's vagina, he left her side and reached him
immediately, as if to reclaim his turn.
The Southerner tightened Kayleen's collar, lowered her on the floor, cuffed
her ankles together and the wrists to her waist band before dragging her to a
heavy wooden trestle and laying her with her back on it, with the point of the
wedge lodged in the small of her back. He fastened her ankle cuffs to the
trestle, doubling her legs at the knee and splaying her thighs wide, while her
arms were pulled behind her neck, wound around a wedge-shaped bar nudged under
the elbows and her wrists were cuffed to a chain. He released her collar and
shortened the chain, forcing her to arch on the trestle.
She shivered when he moved between her legs, hiding a sob as she was well
aware of what her position entailed, and her voice rose to a shriek when he
pushed a thin needle through the rim of her vagina. She screamed again when
the needle was extracted and then reinserted, as he was threading a cord
through the flesh, folding it into ripples in spite of her twitches as the
salt burned into the wound, painfully reducing the width of the opening while
her screams continued in fits of harrowing torment. He revealed his aroused
manhood and, holding the ends of the cord with both hands, penetrated her with
a growl, thrusting viciously while she screamed in abject agony as the tight
passage was ripped through in beastly frenzy.
Pulling on the cords, he pushed back and forth into her while she twitched in
pain, howling when the combined action of his member and the cords ripped a
wound open for the salt. To protract her agony, he repeatedly pulled out while
tightening the cords, so that her channel would be ripped from the opposite
direction, and then thrust in again, wrenching new screams of pain although
the lubrication from her blood made the penetration less painful. When his
lust was spent, he tore the cord free, wrenching howls of desperate agony from
her sore throat and leaving her to cry in bitter pain as some remaining
saltwater seeped into the bleeding wounds and the scraped love channel.
Lyral shook her head between tears, as if to toss away the thought that this
new abject violation of her friend had been thought up because of how rape
scared her. As her friend's cries receded, dread mounted in her as she saw the
Easterner heating thin copper needles in a brazier.
With a cruel smile, the Southerner drove a four piece wooden wedge up
Kayleen's ass, causing her to twitch in screaming agony as the hacked, dented
surface scraped her bowels, and then with the help of both hands lodged his
flaccid member inside her vagina again, reveling in her inability to oppose
the disgusting act and the raging frustration which showed on her visage. Of
their three torturers, he was the one who took such unabashed pleasure in
hurting and ravishing her. At the bottom of her soul, Kayleen probably shared
her friend's deep fear of him.
Leaning forward, he started driving short, thin needles through the base of
her breasts, each one causing her to let a sharp cry escape her painfully
gagged mouth, alternating one pointing up towards the nipple with the other
pointing down towards the chest. Once done he tied a fine cord over each ring
of needles, tightening it with a tourniquet and causing the needles to bend
inside the firm flesh of her breasts, wrenching a howl of devastated agony
from her heaving chest. Each time he tightened a cord, alternating between her
left and right breast, her screams rose in pitch and duration, as her breasts
started swelling from the harsh constriction.
He fastened the cords constricting her breasts to a chain dangling from the
ceiling, which he then pulled up slowly while she twitched in pain, lifting
her a few inches from the trestle and leaving her dangling between screams as
the slightest movement shifted the needles inside her breast flesh. To renew
his arousal, he started driving needles through her buttocks, slowly pushing
them in the firm flesh as the forked tip dug searing pits of blazing agony
which surged through her mouth in long, howling screams of desperate pain.
Lyral's screams joined her friend's as the Easterner drove a hot needle under
her toenail, causing her to stiffen and arch in torment while her young voice
rose in shrill screams of pain. Only when not immediately subject to torture
was Lyral herself enough to shame at the thought of how a mere needle caused
her to scream madly while her friend withstood dozens through her breasts.
Savoring how Kayleen's screaming convulsions massaged his manhood, the
Southerner fetched more needles, long and thin, which he drove in her chest
after bending them so that he could slide them under a rib and the point would
exit on the other side, allowing him to pick it up. Amidst harrowing screams,
he used iron pliers to bend each needle again and push it under another rib,
braiding it into her ribcage two and even three times.
By slowly braiding dozens of needles through her ribcage, he turned her
breathing into a searing exercise in wheezing torment, panting while her
vaginal muscles clutched his member as spasms of pain coursed through her in
rhythm with her breathing, which they turned to fitful screaming. Nearing
arousal, he twisted a number of needle points so that they touched the taut
skin of her breasts, digging in whenever she took a deep breath, including
when her chest heaved before each scream.
With sadistic glee, he used the iron pliers to tighten pieces of iron wire
around the base of each nipple and of her clitoris, causing blood to engorge
her pieces of feminine flesh just before piercing them with wicked barbed
needles, which he twisted into her buds with vicious abandon while the screams
thus induced burst into her tormented ribcage fanning the flames of pain in
her lungs into roaring blasts of hellish agony.
As his manhood stiffened under the spasmodic clutches of her vaginal muscles
twitching from the uninterrupted torment, he grabbed the blonde curls of her
pubic hair and started pulling her loins onto his member, thrusting with his
hips so that the shredded rim of her love channel would be stretched into
ripping the torn wounds wider, finding his abject efforts rewarded by a
harrowing scream of hopeless torment which shook her to the point of bending
some of the needles braided through her ribcage.
Again, Lyral shook in her restraints almost in unison with the beastly thrusts
tearing into her friend's ravaged womb, echoing her screams of harrowing
torment with ill concealed sobs of mindless terror. She dreaded her own fear,
continuously repeating in her mind that if they threatened to rape her just
once, she would collapse immediately and give her friend away, and hating
herself for not being as brave as her screaming friend. And yet, she
repeatedly caught herself wishing that her friend's torment was not
interrupted, as each interruption caused the Easterner to insert another hot
needle under her nails or in her breasts.
The wedge in Kayleen's ass bulged inside her, making her love channel cramped
and its penetration harrowing, and the Southerner's thrusts also rammed the
wooden horror inside her bowels, furthering her torment as the wood scraped
them mercilessly. Her rape was again protracted by repeatedly interrupting the
penetration, only to resume it after the briefest respite, tightening the
collar on her windpipe so that her vaginal muscles would contract
spasmodically on his manhood. When he finally pulled out, her misery was
immediately renewed by pouring cold salt water all over her bleeding body,
causing her to twitch in howling torment while he recovered his breath.
A gasp surged from her mouth when she saw him fetch a pair of tiny hooks, and
her scream when he drove the hooks through her cunt lips was but the first of
many to follow, as he proceeded to stretch them open by driving hooks through
them and stitching them to the inside of her thighs with needles whose forked
tip wrenched pitched shrieks of torment from her mouth when he pushed them
through her flesh, letting her wrack herself through harrowing spasms of
searing agony as each scream fanned the torment of her ribcage anew.
Forcing her to scream until his arousal was rekindled, therefore, became his
pastime, which he indulged with abandon and little actual interest in forcing
her to talk, such that he barely bothered to check if she was still being
defiant before driving needles under her partly regrown fingernails, and then
through her toenails, twisting each repeatedly and then letting her scream
through the resulting fit of spasmodic convulsions, the pain from the needles
in her ribcage now compounded by the points tearing through her crotch.
After tiring of this game, he lowered her back on the trestle and began
another, fetching a small barbed needle and driving it along the side of a
nipple held between pliers, then picking up the point after it cleared the
flesh, bending it back up with pliers and pushing it up into the nipple flesh,
creating a crude hook which pierced her nipple twice along its full distended
length while she screamed pitifully.
With deliberate slowness, he repeated the procedure on her other nipple, and
once her screams subsided, on her clitoris, which took much longer as her
jerks of hopeless agony made the second part of the game much harder. After
pouring more water on her writhing form, he twisted another needle into a hook
through her left nipple first, then her right nipple, and then her clitoris
again, laughing as her howls rose to hoarse shrieks of deranged torment and
managing to drive a third horrid implement through each nipple.
He poured more salt water on her, so that she would not slide into shock, and
watched drooling as the liquid stung harshly her many open wounds, wracking
her through anguished jerks of mad pain and helpless howls of savage agony.
When her throes subsided, he fastened the hooks to chains dangling from the
ceiling using fine steel chains, and slowly pulled her off the trestle as her
voice burst into howls of unspeakable agony.
Lyral's mouth opened wide in disbelief when she saw her friend being pulled up
by hooks in her feminine parts, gasping as she recollected how deeply the
proud warrior resented being faced with the weaknesses of the female body and
trembling at the sight of the hands clenching on thin air, a tremor which
echoed her friend's pitiful quivering in the throes of abysmal agony.
The hooks ripped savagely through Kayleen's feminine flesh, tearing open
bleeding wounds into which the salt water started seeping immediately, but not
to the point of tearing free, leaving her suspended in convulsing pain by the
three pieces of tormented flesh. With fiendish cruelty, the Southerner started
pushing fine needles through her distended breasts and folds, targeting the
base of the delectable buds first and then slowly piercing the very pieces of
flesh she hung from, driving the forked tips through the taut pinkness with
deliberate slowness to protract the frenzy of screams bursting from her mouth.
While she hung in twitching agony, he fetched a steel bar brimming with barbs
in its mid section, which he lay on her mons and twirled so that the barbs
caught curls of her blonde pubic hair, pulling them taut, and then fastened
her ankle cuffs to the ends of the bar, so that each movement of her strong
legs ripped her pubic hair and dragged the barbs across her skin, leaving
shallow cuts which stung fiercely once the saltwater seeped in.
He poured some of the contents of the jug down her mouth, then pulled her cunt
lips wide, stitching them to the inside of her thighs with hooks and braiding
needles through the distended folds of bleeding flesh while her screams echoed
under the vaults of the torture chamber, making sure the needles were bent so
that they pulled on the hooks mercilessly each time she twitched in pain. Lost
in a haze of uninterrupted agony, she tried to call for her friend, deluding
herself that the torture was almost over and her pain would soon be soothed.
When he fetched more hooks, a shiver coursed through Kayleen's writhing body
and surged as a scream of despair from her torn mouth, the first of a streak
which aroused him to abject excitement while he pulled the hooks through the
rim of her vagina, then braided their ends around two bent needles whose tips
he pushed through the sides of her clitoris, wrenching a torturous howl of
sheer agony from her heaving chest as she writhed in torment.
Lyral wondered, and not for the first time, how her friend managed to defy
their torturers, as herself was by now in such pain that she would do anything
to prevent the Easterner from inserting another hot needle in her breasts.
Almost anything, actually, as she managed to suppress her wish to scream that
she had had enough, thinking at how her friend's agonies would be wasted.
Somehow, they could not cause her friend a pain so unendurable that avoiding
further agony would override any other consideration. It was not because of
reduced pain sensitivity, as in the syrup they were fed she had recognized
pain enhancing herbs, not to mention that it consisted mostly of sugar.
Smiling, the Southerner procured a short branch of the hellish stinging tree
and started birching the soles of Kayleen's feet, each strike causing her to
twitch as the pain from the stinging tree was overwhelmed by the agony of the
implements he had so fiendishly set up. Each jerk of her thighs pulled
savagely on the hooks tearing at her cunt lips and the rim of her vagina, but
also raked her mons and ripped some pubic hair, both reason enough for her
chest to heave in a scream which wrought unspeakable torment through her ribs
and breasts, while the ripping agony of the hooks in her nipples and clitoris
was rekindled to white hot blasts of searing pain.
After protracting the birching of her soles and the resulting torment of her
hanging body well beyond the point when her screams had turned to wheezing
wails of hopeless anguish, he let her sip from the jug again and then moved
between her thighs, inserting a four piece wedge in her bleeding vagina and
hammering a fifth wedge between them so that they distended her wracked love
channel while her howls echoed in the torture room. He then fixed a wooden
plank before the butts of the two wedges jutting from her orifices, and tied
them both to the plank with fine chains while she sobbed bitterly, remembering
how he had already used this harrowing technique before.
He moved to her head, pulling out his member and thrusting it into her sore
mouth, in spite of her vain attempts to resist. He then started thrusting into
her, each movement wreaking renewed agonies through her hanging form as her
crotch was rammed against the plank, driving the wedges inside her, and then
swinging back, pulling them out while they scraped her insides and pulled
hooks and needles to new peaks of merciless agony while her throat screamed
her torment onto his stiff member in choked gurgles.
Lyral almost retched, more disgusted than scared by the violation of her
friend's mouth, raging in a corner of her mind at the humiliation of her proud
friend. The impassive Easterner slid another hot needle in her left breast,
piercing the areola and sending her head jerking in a scream of harrowing
torment, but her mind was still occupied by the image of her poor friend's
bleeding orifices, raked and torn not only by the wedges but also by the hooks
and needles, some of which had ripped horrid wounds through the flesh.
Still not sated after protracting Kayleen's harrowing violation, the
Southerner pulled out of her mouth to remove the wedges from her orifices, but
then resumed the ravishment of her throat, ignoring the blood flowing between
her legs. In a rut of panting viciousness, he started birching her distended
slit with the stinging tree branches, causing her to convulse madly while
droplets of blood spurted from the many wounds thus torn wider by her jerks.
He laughed while her gurgling screams pleasured his member, continuing her
abject violation until her agonies finally outlasted his arousal.
The Easterner stepped in, inspecting the bleeding orifices of his would be
victim, and immediately started treating the wounds, alternating liberal use
of the paste with cauterization by hot iron, which shook Kayleen's quivering
body into new fits of agony as she had not been freed from the hooks and
needles tearing her flesh. Brutal as they were, his ministrations staunched
her bleeding for the time being, although Lyral knew all too well that unless
she managed to heal her friend within a few hours, she would probably die.
With little ceremony, Grod unfastened Lyral from the ladder and forced her to
sit on a heavy wooden chair, brimming with iron spikes, refastening her wrists
and cuffs to the solid frame. She lifted herself above the spikes, but soon
she realized that she could not hold the position forever. The chair was fixed
to the floor, placed so that she could have an unobstructed view of what would
her friend would be subjected to.
After removing hooks and needles, showing little mercy to his crying victim,
the Easterner tightened Kayleen's collar, constricting her windpipe, then
cuffed her wrists together behind her back and her ankles together, with great
care, before releasing her from the trestle and dragging her between two
pillars. There he cuffed each wrist to a chain, pulling it up behind her back
and painfully twisting each arm in its socket, and once her feet dangled a few
inches above the floor fastened each ankle cuff to a chain from each pillar,
spreading her thighs wide while her crotch slumped forward.
Without a word, he moved behind her, sheathed his member in rough leather and
penetrated her asshole from behind, thrusting up while grabbing her hips as
her glistening body shook in pain and despair while an anguished cry erupted
from her mouth. Panting slightly, he protracted her rape for a while before
pulling out abruptly, leaving her hanging, her chest heaving in bitter sobs
and wracked by occasional screams of anguish. Although of the three he was
apparently the least excited by her violations, he was always coldly brutal in
ravishing her, using his manhood as just another instrument of torture.
When she saw him drag a brazier nearby, a scream of hopeless terror escaped
her lips as she took in the implements being heated within. He fetched an
iron cat's paw, its three iron claws heated red, and raked her distended left
thigh, wrenching from her a gasping scream of raw pain. He placed the paw back
on the brazier and started smearing her body with a thick goo, not unlike the
grease favored by Grod, which caused her to start writhing in pain as it
burned like salt in the innumerable tiny wounds scattered on her body.
The hopes of being spared the hot iron, born when he had put the cat's paw
aside, were shattered when he picked up the implement again, and satisfied
with the bright red glow of its points tore three gashes of hellish torment
under her left breast, causing a howl of unspeakable agony to surge from her
aching mouth, followed by gasping screams of pain as he paused silently.
After a while, he dragged the points across her chest while she screamed in
abysmal pain, and then after another pause climbed along her upper left arm,
tearing shallow bleeding wounds in her muscles while her arm shook
uncontrollably and her head ebbed back and forth, hiding the expression of
unbridled torment on her contorted visage. The goo he had smeared her with
melted under the heat and flooded the gashes, burning like salt and bubbling
in the open wound, furthering her torment well beyond the white hot agony of
the points ripping through the flesh.
Lyral shook her head in disbelief, gasping at the agony being inflicted on her
friend and comparing it to the similar but much milder torment she had been
subjected to two days ago, by the Easterner, who had used a hot copper hook on
her maybe two dozen times, while her friend had already been hurt more times
with an iron implement bearing three points instead of one. The iron points
were thicker and probably hotter, and he was using one hand to use the horrid
device and the other to pull the skin taut under the points. As with the
spiked chair, which she was placed on without further torment, they were
lenient with her because they thought she was the weakest.
The Easterner fetched a fresh cat's paw from the brazier and dragged it along
Kayleen's left leg, tracing bleeding gashes in her calf while she twisted her
leg in the attempt to stem the scorching torment, then climbing up along the
front of her thigh while she howled in unspeakable agony, throwing her head
back while her mouth distended almost to the point of tearing as if to allow
the waves of agony coursing through her to find their way out. He ripped
slashes of red hot pain in her legs and thighs, criss crossing them until her
screams of abject woe turned to pitiful wheezes.
He let her sip from the jug, then moved the brazier behind her and started
dragging the cats-paw down her muscular back, cutting along the line of her
muscles while she convulsed in spasmodic agony and screamed her lungs out in a
fit of screaming desperation, occasionally interrupted when he changed
direction in the raking of her back, causing her to stiffen abruptly before
jerking in unabashed pain. The torment was mercilessly protracted in spite of
her cries, convulsions and howls, splashing her with cold water twice and on
occasion bringing the jug to her lips again.
Pausing each time, he switched to raking her buttocks, tracing irregular,
bleeding gashes in the firm flesh, wrenching inhuman screams of maddened agony
from her convulsing body while her restraints rattled with her agonized
convulsions. Although her buttocks offered a target smaller than her back, he
protracted the torment even longer, raking repeatedly the soft crease between
her ass cheeks and ripping through the flesh between buttock and thigh with
controlled abandon, skillfully avoiding major blood vessels.
He then dragged the cat's paw across her vulva, from behind, causing her to
arch in a stiffened bow of unparalleled agony while a pitched howl rushed from
her throat and shook her chest. Using a fresh cat's paw, he started dragging
the points from her mons down, slowly twisting the implement left and right
while the sizzling points ripped through her flesh and her howls surged
one after another as her abysmal agony surpassed the limits of her screaming.
Lyral buckled in the chair, now appreciating how the iron spikes hurt her soft
flesh each time she tired of pulling herself up but also trembling before the
agonies her friend was being put through. She recollected how, in one of her
rare lapse, she had let out a glimpse of how much the torment of hot iron and
the targeting of her feminine parts weighed on her, and seeing her friend arch
in howling agony as the hot points tore dented gashes in the pink flesh was
almost too much to bear.
When the Easterner circled Kayleen, bringing the brazier along, a sob heaved
in her chest as her mind focused in dread on what would follow. He grabbed her
shredded nipple with iron pliers and then raked the red hot points of the
cats-paw along the elongated breast flesh, causing her to burst in a desperate
howl of trembling agony while blood oozed from the gashes. The fangs of a pain
which knew no bounds ripped again through the flesh of her breast, wrenching
another howl of unparalleled torment from her throat, and once this also
subsided the pliers pulled at her other breast.
With slow, deliberate cruelty, he ripped lacerated gashes of red hot agony
through the firm flesh of her breasts, letting her scream herself hoarse as
the pain of the goo bubbling in the wounds followed the agony of the points
raking through the flesh. In spite of the horribly irregular wounds, she had
not lost much blood, because the cats-paw to a great extent cauterized the
wound it created and the bubbling goo also contributed in stemming the loss.
A moment of relief followed, but her wracking sobs burst into a scream again
when his member sheathed in rough leather penetrated her vagina, scraping the
scorched flesh while her body twisted in agony. Thrusting back and forth with
cold viciousness, he ravished her hanging body, wracking her twisted arms and
tearing her wounded innards mercilessly, pulling out only when his arousal
was spent and leaving her gasping in bitter pain.
He let her sip from the jug before lowering her to the floor, but only to drag
her to the ladder, ignoring her pain-wracked sobs as she knew that being
restrained on the ladder would entail torments which required her to have no
freedom of movement, those which were so hellish that extreme precision in
administering them was required to let the victim live through the ordeal.
Unable to keep herself above the iron spikes, Lyral cried in dismay as her
sore muscles gave and the points drew blood again, taking her mind momentarily
off her friend's abject ravishment. She wondered if the spikes would prove so
unbearable that she would be forced to give in, saying to herself that she had
to be strong but with the mind full of dread at the thought of being unable to
resist, wasting her friend's heroics with a single act of weakness.
The Easterner laid Kayleen on the ladder, fastening her collar and waist band
to the wooden structure so that her head lied slightly lower than her pelvis,
cuffing wrists and ankles in a taut spread eagle position which exposed her
crotch. The red hot points of the Caspar were then dragged on her left foot,
ripping through the flesh between her toes repeatedly while she screamed in
harrowing pain, rocking the ladder in mad agony.
After letting her sip briefly from the jug and heating carefully the cat's
paw, he raked it forcefully along her forearm, ripping open a deep gash which
he scraped repeatedly, using only the left point and heating the device often,
deepening the gash until he reached the bone. She burst in screams of
horrendous torment, which rose even higher once he started scraping the
exposed bone with the red hot left point. After a few rakings he did the same
with her other forearm, so that he could alternate the torment, spreading the
damage while keeping up the pain.
Her screams rose under the vaults of the torture chamber, echoing her torment
with heart-wrenching peaks of sheer agony, but a desperate resolve could still
be heard in her voice as she clung to what was dearest to her in a feat of
astounding courage which had little precedent. In spite of the horrid gashes
lacerating her body, in spite of the abysmal torment of having a hot iron
point scrape her bone, she knew that if she could hold on just some more time,
they would be defied again.
Unmoved, her tormentor heated the cat's paw again and pressed its points on
the left of her ribcage, carefully ripping through the thin muscle to expose a
rib so that the red hot point could scrape it, wrenching hoarse screams of
abysmal pain from her convulsing chest, the first step her down the pits of a
personal hell of searing hot pain, ripped flesh and uninterrupted agony.
Slowly, rib after rib, the fiendish torment of her exposed ribs was protracted
while her labored breathing turned to a wheezing wail and foam bubbled from
her mouth upon each anguished howl.
When she saw the white of her ribs, Lyral opened her mouth in disbelief,
unable to make sense of what was occurring to her friend until her eyes fixed
on a red hot point sliding along the white of the bone, while her friend's
voice rose in another howl of unspeakable torment. The agony of spikes under
her soft thighs almost vanished before the thought of what horrid torment her
friend was being put through for the benefit of her eyes, and her mind ran in
circles again in search of something which she could say to stop this horror,
or at least relieve her from being the cause of her friend's agonies.
As Kayleen's body was shaken by fits of coughing and uninterrupted tremors,
the Easterner had to force the contents of the jug down her mouth, bringing
her back from the pain induced relief of shock before dragging the fiendish
paw up her leg, repeatedly, until the white of bone showed, ready to be
subjected to the horrid torment of scraping. To staunch the bleeding, since
the cut was bound to be deeper and wider than on her arms, he repeatedly
rubbed the red hot points along the edges of the gash, then heated the device
again and let the point skid along the gleaming white at the bottom of the
gash while a howl of absolute agony surged from her frothing mouth.
With time he started alternating between her left and right shin, which had
been similarly ravaged, splashing her with cold water as soon her screams
waned, as the pain from a few rakings was enough to induce shock in spite of
what she drank from the jug, and he wanted the full horror of the unspeakable
agony she was undergoing to wrack through her body in spasms of unbearable
torment, hoping to shatter her resolve before shattering her body.
In spite of the harrowing agonies being wrought on her scraped bones, in spite
of the uninterrupted torments, her resolve still held on, so he took a chance
and, after letting her sip from the jug again and pouring more cold water on
her trembling body, raked the red hot cat's paw on her thighs, first one and
then the other, placing the utmost care into slowly reaching the bone while
avoiding the major blood vessels while her screams reached new peaks of agony.
The scraping of her thigh bones was, if possible, worse than what she had been
put through thus far, so painful that in spite of her restraints she convulsed
madly, pulling and straining a number of muscles while pitched howls of sheer
agony surged from her lips, bubbling through the reddish foam in her mouth,
each bursting out before its predecessor waned as her torment surpassed the
limits of her ability to express her pain through screams.
Lyral jumped on the spikes, screaming her lungs out from the sudden pain, when
she saw white slivers splintering from her friend's thigh bones under the
force of the red hot points. She could not believe that her friend could
withstand that and just scream, however blood-curling her howls rose under the
vaults of the torture chamber. For a moment, the essence of her being, her
faith, was shaken by the thought that the powers of good had abandoned them
both in the hands of the minions of evil incarnate.
Yet, as the Easterner's eyes sought defeat under Kayleen's clenched lids, all
he found was a desperate resolve, born of courage and dedication, and to break
the resolve behind the visage contorted in a mask of unbridled agony he heated
a fresh cat's paw which he inserted into her vagina, raking it from the inside
out while she stiffened in a scream of fitful agony as the red hot points
ripped through the most sensitive part of her love channel, above the rim.
He let the horror and pain sink into her, then set his jaw, moved between her
legs and thrust his leather sheathed member into her shredded vagina, partially
cauterized but still bleeding profusely. With his hands on her hips, he drove
into her with cold viciousness, ramming and twisting to rip the lacerations
left by the cat's paw wider and wider on each thrust while she jerked in fits
of unbridled pain and howls of unspeakable agony.
After keeping up her violation, pausing it repeatedly to splash her with cold
salt water, he pulled out, momentarily leaving her to cry in misery while he
heated the device again. He brought it up before her, inspecting her eyes for
a sign of defeat, then, after shaking his head once, dragged it forcefully up
her vulva, slowly ripping her open from the rim of the vagina upwards, tearing
the clitoris in two while an unparalleled howl of agony exploded from her
mouth, fanned by the spasms in her heaving chest as the points ripped through
her femininity with excruciating slowness.
Using a pair of hot pliers, he grabbed the tatters of her left nipple and
distended the breast, repeatedly sawing through its base with the points of
the cat's paw while she screamed in unspeakable agony until he reached the
white of the rib. He then scraped it forcefully, careful not to let the red
hot point stray while her chest burst in howls of unparalleled pain. In a haze
of unbearable pain, the last shards of her resolve were being scraped from her
one by one, and she clung desperately to the thought that if she could hold on
a little more, the torture could not last much longer.
Impressed by her endurance, he moved to repeat the procedure on her right
breast, but since this one had been somewhat less damaged by the hooks and
needles he first ripped through the nipple, inspecting her eyes for signs of
a defeat which was not there. He let her sip from the jug, but he noticed that
the effectiveness of the syrupy concoction was waning, although her eyes
cleared and she screamed as the pain made itself felt in full again. Using the
hot pliers he pulled the breast and raked the underside repeatedly until he
exposed the bone again, listening to her pitiful screams as he could not
believe that she could hold on further.
When he started scraping the exposed rib, he did forcefully, not having to
worry about the heart and determined to force her to submit at last, but in
spite of the unparalleled howls and the chips of bone scraped from the rib,
which cracked twice as he relentlessly raked it, her hoarse voice never
conceded defeat. Unable to speak, unable to call for her friend, foaming at
the mouth in unbearable agony and screaming pitifully, she still found the
resolve to deny them their prize, ultimately defying her torturers.
Lyral watched her friend's contorted face with a mixture of admiration, dread
and pity, as the amazing courage and endurance demonstrated could not hide the
fact that the wounds her friend was being dealt were lethal, in spite of her
extraordinary physique and of the tormentor's ingenuity in dealing pain while
limiting damage. Even if not bleeding freely, the skin was lacerated in so
many places that there was probably more flesh than skin exposed, and the
scorched flesh oozed a clear fluid which mixed with the salty goo smeared over
her body, and dozens of gashes reached to the gleaming white of the bone,
albeit in places where the bone was close to the surface. She would have to
heal her as soon as possible, and with her healing power almost spent, she
would not be able to heal her fully anyway.
When the Easterner unfastened Kayleen from the ladder, the screams which had
been wracking her chest waned into moaning cries, as the relief of having made
it through another day of torture washed over her, even if she knew that she
would be put in some form of torturous restraint. It took her some time to
realize that her tormentor had laid her on the cross rack and was now pulling
her limbs taut and spreading her thighs open. Her scream as the pain in her
thigh joints burst through her mouth was heavy with the despair of seeing her
relief being wrenched from her and replaced by further agonies.
He pulled the rollers at each end of the cross rack unmercifully, until he
could hear her joints creak between the pauses of her hoarse screaming, then
poured the contents of the jug down her throat while she sputtered in pain and
fear as she had guessed that he wanted to break her resolve now, by subjecting
her to agonies so unthinkable that they would even surpass what she had been
put through so far. He moved between her thighs, stretched painfully wide, and
using a freshly heated cat's paw slowly raked the point through the tense
cords which stood out in the underside of her strained thighs, wrenching howls
of demented pain as muscle and tendon trembled on the verge of rupture.
The pain was such that convulsions shook her body, wracking her joints near
dislocation, and as he repeatedly tore through the taut flesh her limbs one by
one dislocated under the pull of her spasmodic jerks. With a snap, the hot
iron points also ruptured the strained cords under her thighs, but her howls
were by now so raucous and pitiful that even this horrid wound hardly made a
difference in the litany of her screams.
What made a difference was that he heated the cat's paw again, after dousing
her with cold water and pouring more syrup in her torn mouth, and with
excruciating slowness raked it through her mons, ripping the skin off in
strips and searing the bleeding flesh, a torment so hellish that the
unspeakable agony fanned her voice to new heights of demented torment which
echoed under the vaults of the torture chamber. When the pubic bone was
exposed and the hot points raked the white surface, the dislocation of her
right thigh, last among her limbs, added little to her howls.
Lyral, still twitching on the iron spikes of the chair, was out of her mind
from dread and horror at the sight of what her friend was being subjected to,
her head shaking mindlessly in the effort to distance herself from the sight
of the cat's paw scraping white slivers from the bloodied triangle of her
friend's mons, wrenching inhuman howls of unparalleled agony from the heaving
chest convulsing in the throes of abysmal torment.
Kayleen was now being forced to drink from the jug each time, so deep in shock
that each new scraping added less and less to her agonies, even when the bone
cracked; her face was a horrid mask of pain, with the eyes rolling and showing
the white and foam drooling from the mouth, while each howl rose through her
chest in choking spasms of coughed blood. After slowly raking her pubic bone
again, scraping tiny white chips while her howls rose in a wheeze of exhausted
agony, her torturer put the cat's paw aside, no longer confident that the
torment could be protracted without killing her outright.
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