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Chapter 20 - Ambushing the Rescuers
Lyral's cry of dismay faded slowly in the unlit vaults of the torture chamber
under the ruins of Zhorun's former castle. She had just failed again to bring
her lips to touch her friend's forehead, cursing herself for not being what
she had never been, agile and athletic.
With her wrists cuffed behind the back to her left ankle and hanging upside
down from a thumbscrew gouging her right toe, Lyral's attempts to swing and
bend at the waist to reach her friend with the lips had resulted in some
healing for her friend and much frustration for her, and now her tired muscles
were starting to ache from the effort and from her position. What brought her
to tears was that this was nothing before the torment wrought on her friend.
Kayleen hung with her left wrist cuffed behind the back to her right ankle,
and the right arm cuffed at the elbow and wrist to her left leg, in a
grotesque lozenge which pulled strenuously on her dislocated joints, wrenching
raucous screams of pain from her trembling frame. She still shivered having
been drenched in freezing cold salt water, and her weight hung from
thumbscrews savagely crushing her right toe and left thumb, which had cracked
under her efforts to help in getting healed and were now painfully swollen.
The healing which Lyral had managed to convey had restored most of the flesh
scraped from her limbs and mons, although the white of the bone still showed
in her ribcage through wounds whose pain was almost on par with the blazing
agony from her shredded nipples and clitoris, which had been restored only
partially. Lyral's healing, however miraculous, would not restore her joints
as long as they were under the traction induced by her position.
What Lyral and Kayleen ignored was that Kayleen's predicament was the result
of Zhorun's directions, as the undead wizard had wanted to relish in seeing
his nemesis suffer the beginning of agonies which would last through the
night, because he would not be able to witness them as he had taken to.
In the last days, his spies had warned him that, in spite of the precautions
taken by his henchmen, a group of Priestesses had been able to follow the
trail of Lyral's abductors, probably detecting residues of the magic carried
by items of hers which had been brought along. Nothing in his tomes had hinted
that Priestesses possessed such abilities, although, in hindsight, the notion
that stealing from them was unwise had been there. Whatever the ability, it
had a limited range, because their had to spread from a known point, and
apparently employing many Priestesses allowed them to cover a wider area.
It was also likely that the Priestesses had found some residual of the corpses
incinerated by Lyral's power, because they were taking precautions against the
undead. What they did not expect, as there were many Priestesses and few
fighters, was living opponents led by a wizard, of a might the likes of which
had been forgotten in the kingdom; he would storm their camp at dawn with his
troops, wiping out over half of the Priestesses in existence in a single blow.
He planned to take some prisoners, have them deprived of their power by his
men, which would be their just reward, and interrogated, because he hoped to
find most of the others gathered together in some shrine, and if he got his
timing right he would be able to obliterate them also before news of the fate
of those investigating Lyral's disappearance spread.
Meanwhile, he watched silently, with his netherwordly gaze for which darkness
was not an obstacle, as Lyral's efforts improved the health of her friend,
causing the scorched gashes in the limbs and crotch to heal, although the
flesh on the ribs and the breasts still pulsed and oozed. The nipples bled
slowly now, but the pain from the innumerable small wounds left by the needles
and hooks was still remorseless.
"Kayleen, I believe we're against a wall. It's impossible for me to heal your
joints in that position, and any healing I further infused on you would be
wasted in trying just that, without improving the rest of your wounds."
"Do you have ... enough ... for yourself ?" croaked Kayleen, crying.
"I have already healed myself," lied Lyral, blessing the darkness.
"Kayleen, I am stumped," she added, "We're playing into their hands. They
torture you, I heal you, and then the next day they torture you even more. Now
they've taken to curtailing the little help I was able to give you, and I am
forced to sit hearing you scream all the way to the gates of hell because of
me, being abjectly raped because I'm too weak to stand it myself!"
"Lyral ... don't play into their hands even more. What you give, however
little you manage to ... accomplish, is what keeps me from breaking. Even in
the worst ... torments, I know that if I just hold on some more, a time will
come when ... the kiss of a friend will soothe my pain. Get over your guilt,
they are playing upon it, ... besides, it's because of my weakness that you're
undergoing this, so you're not alone," whispered Kayleen between fits of pain.
"It's not us, it's them ... it's them we should stand against, together. As
much as I regret dragging you into this, ... it was worse when I was alone,
Lyral. Alone with the pain, the humiliation ... crying in the dark, never free
from these cuffs, ... no kiss of a friend before another day of merciless
torments," mused Kayleen, trying to muffle her bitter sobs.
Zhorun left shortly thereafter to join his minions, his mind divided between
the task ahead and the delicious anticipation of further sufferings to be
inflicted on his prisoners, especially the Queen. He had considered ordering
today's session postponed until his return, but then settled for allowing the
torture to continue, intending to use magic to have a look whenever possible.
At the end of a restless night, punctuated by Kayleen's bitter screams as the
pain in her joints mounted, the torturers returned for another session, and it
was the Southerner who moved towards her, his arousal prominent under his
white robes as he lewdly inspected her quivering form.
Without releasing her from the restraints she had spent the night in, he
produced a small blade and started tearing small wounds in the rim of her
sphincter, almost purring whenever she screamed pitifully, and then pulled out
his manhood and rammed it into her ass, causing her voice to rise in a howl of
hopeless torment as the wicked thrust ripped the wounds wider.
He kept jarring viciously back and forth for a while, grabbing her thighs
while she cried and sobbed bitterly, then pulled his bloodied member out and
reamed her orifice with pinches of white powder, which soaked her blood so
that he could resume her violation denying her its lubrication, rekindling the
flames of agony in her voice until his lust was finally spent.
Lyral was dragged by the Easterner near a heavy iron grate, set with dull
spikes, on which she was forced to lie with her back, immediately realizing
that her muscles would not hold the strain of keeping the worst of the points
from her flesh for long. Her gaze, however, followed the violation of her
friend, whose dislocated joints which she had not been able to heal were now
compounding with their agonies the humiliation of yet another abject rape.
The Southerner tightened Kayleen's collar, constricting her windpipe, and then
lowered her on the floor, dragging her near a low, reclined plank. He cuffed
her wrists and elbows behind her back, fastening the wrists to a chain from
the ceiling, and then spread her legs wide by cuffing her ankles to chains
from two pillars at her side, adjusting the chains so that her front lay on
the plank, with her face almost touching the floor and her loins raised up, a
position whose significance she realized immediately with a bitter sob.
She started screaming when her dislocated joints were forced to bear the brunt
of her weight, as her arms were pulled up behind the head and her thighs
rotated and spread unmercifully, wrenching harsh cries of agony as lances of
white hot pain shot from the wracked sockets, and then howled when he started
driving short needles under her partially regrown finger and toe nails,
twisting the forked tips, waiting for his member to harden again.
After leaving her to sob bitterly thereafter, he pulled the chain fastened to
her wrists, raising her front while a protracted scream rose from her mouth as
pain surged in her wracked shoulders, exposing her muscular abdomen and proud,
generous breasts. He brought the jug to her mouth, letting her sip repeatedly.
He started inserting tiny hooks around her navel, pulling the flesh taut and
braiding them with short needles whose forked tip he drove slowly just under
the skin, pausing whenever she quivered in screaming agony and resuming when
her voice subsided. He stopped after about two dozen, admiring his work for a
moment before producing a barbed steel rod which he used to administer a
vicious strike across her pierced abdomen.
The barbs tore the skin in a number of places, causing her head to jerk back
in a scream of surprised pain, but the contraction of her muscles pulled on
hooks and needles, which tore through the muscles just under the skin slitting
lacerated gashes of bleeding agony in her quivering abdomen. Overwhelmed by
the sudden pain, she shook in her restraints, howling repeatedly in abysmal
torment while blood oozed from the tiny wounds after each strike.
With a smile, he produced a jar and emptied it on the plank, revealing dozens
of critters, each half an inch long, which scuttled around, crowding where
drops of her blood stained the wood. Her eyes grew wide when he started
lowering her, until her abdomen contacted the plank and the true measure of
her torture was revealed as the tiny crabs, a variant of land crab for which
her tormentor had found this cruel use, started biting the edges of her
wounds, tearing minuscule bits of skin and flesh off.
Her howls rose in pitch as the tiny crabs, used to feed on dead or wounded
creatures, swarmed her wounds, apparently ignoring sound skin, and used their
surprisingly strong jaws to rip off a morsel of flesh and then rush away, to
laboriously ingest it. She kept screaming and howling while dozens of jaws
tore her wounds open, convulsing pitifully in uninterrupted agony, until
somehow she realized that she could lessen her torment by raising herself off
the plank, as the crabs were poor climbers and were apparently unable to hold
onto her flesh and bite at the same time.
Almost immediately, the agony of her lacerated flesh was compounded by the
devastating torment of her dislocated joints, shot through by waves of
abysmal pain as her muscles trembled in the spasmodic effort to keep her
wounds outside the reach of the crabs. The sheen of perspiration covered her
body, and her chest panted in between strangled screams as her physique
managed again to pull off an astonishing feat of endurance and determination.
Screaming herself from the iron points in her back, Lyral was still horrified
at the thought of the agony in her friend's joints, partly because the true
purpose of the plank was not visible to her. What she had feared thus far was
that they guessed this limitation of her healing and turned it into a further
source of agonies for her brave friend, but her fear found a cause much closer
to her as the Easterner shoveled a load of burning coals under the iron grate
she lied on, forcing to her to arch to distance her back from their heat.
Meanwhile, anticipating the tingle of renewed arousal, with a tiny blade the
Southerner started tearing small cuts in the rim of Kayleen's vagina, watching
as she shivered after each, sliding closer to the plank and pulling back with
a hoarse scream of utter agony as her trembling muscles managed to deliver her
again. With a smile, he started prolonging each cut, letting the blade linger
in the cuts torn through the most sensitive area, just above the rim, pressing
it down so that she was forced to lie on the plank for the joy of the crabs,
briefly renewing her agony as their jaws bit her wounds.
She was but halfway in a scream of mad agony when he grabbed her hips and
penetrated her vagina, ripping the tiny wounds wide open while her voice rose
in a choked scream of pain and despair and her trembling muscles gave, dropping
her on the plank amidst the hungry crabs. Although his jarring thrusts caused
many crabs to be crushed, she was also repeatedly forced onto the plank
exposing her wounds to more bites, while her orifice was being ripped open by
his vicious rut and he relished in her spasmodic screams of utter torment.
Lyral's screams matched her friend's as her muscles could deliver her from the
raging heat of the coals only at intervals, so her attention returned to the
abject rape of her friend in between, although in a corner of her mind her
horror mounted at how the violation was being protracted.
The Southerner pulled out of Kayleen's womb twice, tearing more cuts in her
vagina while she howled in trembling agony and rubbing her innards with more
white powder before resuming the abject penetration of her orifice in a
renewed frenzy of rutting thrusts. When his lust was finally spent, he
lingered inside her, driving hooks in her twitching ass cheeks while she
screamed as the pain of raising herself off the plank and the agony of having
morsels of flesh ripped from her bleeding wounds alternated.
Still with his flaccid member within her, he braided needles through the hooks
in her ass cheeks and back, just under the skin, twisting the forked tips so
that she howled in abysmal pain and let herself on the plank for a few
seconds each time. Only after tormenting relentlessly the parts which could be
reached while still filling her love channel did he pull out, trouncing her
sob of respite with a vicious strike from the barbed rod across her buttocks.
He let her sip from the jug again, then a new phase of her torment commenced
when he started using the barbed rod all over her needle pierced body, slowly
ripping open her skin bit by bit and causing her to stiffen and howl in
torment as each jerk shifted hooks and needles in new positions, tearing
through her muscles in endless variations of searing agony.
Panting with exertion, he put the rod aside and started picking up the crabs
one by one and depositing them on her back, ass cheeks and thighs, placing
each near and even inside a wound just as a jerk tore it open, so that the
creature would sink its jaws while she was still wracked by the pain of the
wound itself. He watched with delight as the technique worked, wrenching howls
of ever increasing pitch from her hoarse throat while her body shook in her
restraints, shuddering from the relentless ache of the dislocated joints and
jerking from blasts of pain as morsels were ripped from her wounds.
Lyral, arching in torment, watched in disbelief the convulsions of her friend,
realizing that some critter was causing the spasmodic jerks which undoubtedly
wracked the dislocated joints well beyond the boundaries of human endurance.
Her back burned from the heat and the pain from the iron spikes, which became
overwhelming when her aching muscles gave, so she had a fitful picture of what
her friend was undergoing, and the horror mounted within her as each time her
gaze wandered off to her friend's form she was still convulsing and screaming.
The Southerner pulled the chain fastened to Kayleen's wrists, raising her off
the plank and exchanging more torment on her shoulder joints with some respite
from the crabs, most of which fell down, and splashed her with cold salt
water, waiting for her subsequent screams to subside before letting her sip
from the jug. But then he started driving hooks under the skin of her ribcage
and into her breasts, drawing out sharp howls of bitter pain which turned into
fitful screams as he braided them with needles, screams he cruelly protracted
by twisting the forked tip under the skin, relishing the contact with her
shaking body and the hoarse screams of utter torment in his face.
Not satisfied with the dozens of hooks and needles deforming her breasts into
bleeding cones of trembling agony, he spent an inordinate amount of time in
driving needles through her distended nipples and then pulling each through a
small hole in a two-inch metal platter, bending the needles inside the nipple
while her voice trembled in howls of demented torment, rising again when he
drove thin needles under each platter to stitch it to the tip of the nipple.
Her screams became, if possible, even louder when he drove hooks and needles
through her thighs and her crotch, braiding dozens of hooks in her cunt lips
with needles and using iron pliers to savagely pull her clitoris through the
hole of another metal platter before laboriously stitching the tip of the
bleeeding feminine flesh to the platter with thin needles.
Lyral was not able to follow this new stage of her friend's torture, because
her own was now an all-consuming agony which wrenched desperate howls of pain
as she could no longer distance herself from the heat, and the torment in her
buttocks and the back of her thighs was uninterrupted and excruciating. Her
tear filled eyes only managed to notice that her friend hung with arms twisted
behind the back, screaming from some abject torment being inflicted on a
femininity which had become the preferred target of their captors.
When the Southerner lowered Kayleen on the plank again, the crabs swarmed her
bleeding front and sunk their jaws in her wounds, wrenching new screams of
abysmal torment from her as she forced her aching muscles to gain the inch or
so she needed to preserve her proud breasts from dozens of painful bites. Her
howls turned into gurgles as he circled her and inserted his member into her
mouth, still distended by the spider gag, pushing with his loins so that she
contacted the plank with her bleeding crotch, his member hardening at the
thought of the crabs ripping flesh from her wounded femininity.
The next scream engulfed his member while her warm tongue rubbed it in the
spasmodic attempt to scream her agonies without choking, and as more crabs
found the wounds in her crotch her howls gurgled around his manhood one after
the other, rising even higher when her clitoris was bitten and a pink morsel
was forcefully torn off, causing her to convulse in unbearable agony.
He protracted the violation of her mouth, pulling out frequently and striking
her back with the barbed rod on occasion, but his pleasure ebbed on the rhythm
of her desperate screams from the harsh bites of the crabs and bulged when her
tongue lapped spasmodically his hardening member in a choked howl of agony as
his thrusts filled her throat and wracked her dislocated joints.
When his lust was spent, he lingered inside her mouth, watching her fingers
stiffen and contract spasmodically before him as morsels of flesh were ripped
off her wounds by the crabs, causing her to gurgle her screams of abysmal
torment onto his manhood and buckle violently, wracking her swollen joints
into deeper pits of unrelenting woe.
Still screaming in bitter pain, Lyral tried to reduce her own agonies by
using her healing power on herself, and managed to soothe her torment enough
to be able to see clearly how a tiny creature reached into the gash torn by
a hook in her friend's cunt lips, tore back and forth at the bleeding edge and
finally ripped off a morsel of flesh while her friend's burst of anguished
pain gurgled in the stuffed mouth. Horrified, she stopped healing herself,
determined to save her power to deliver her friend from such abject torments.
After pulling out, at last, the Southerner brought the jug to Kayleen's lips
again, although she managed to sip little between screams and jerks, and then
picked up a crab with tweezers and deposited it on the platter stitched to her
left nipple. The creature, momentarily confused, turned to the bleeding flesh
and sunk its jaws where a needle pierced the distended bud, tearing back and
forth until it managed to rip off a morsel while she shook in screaming agony.
Smiling, he did the same with her other nipple, slowly adding one crab at a
time while her screams mounted, her pain so unbearable that her convulsions
even managed to cause some crabs to fall off, although her tormentor promptly
replaced them. Her chest trembled, heaving in panting exertion often
interrupted by a bitter scream, but her muscles literally twitched like violin
cords in the harrowing effort to preserve her bleeding front, and especially
her breasts and crotch, from the biting crabs.
He kept up this torment until his manhood hardened again, and then inserted
his hardening member down her throat, pushing with his loins so that her
crotch was again exposed to the swarming crabs, changing the origin of her
screams but not the horror of her unrelenting agony. As her woe gurgled around
his manhood, he kept up the violation of her mouth while her body convulsed in
pain, repeatedly thrusting his bulging member back and forth in her throat
until he finally came again.
Her tormentor let her scream and convulse under the relentless tearing of the
crabs, teasing her mouth with his member, savoring how her physique still
managed to deliver her from most of their bites but for the occasional lapse
which exposed her breasts to a dozens of biting jaws, which swarmed them in a
single instant of unparalleled agony which shook through her body and burst
off her mouth in a howl of harrowing woe whose echoes lingered under the
vaults of the torture chamber while her pain-wracked body shook pitifully.
When her sufferings managed to rekindle his drug enhanced arousal, he violated
her mouth again, sending her crotch into the jaws of the crabs for a variation
of her torment which lasted as long as his cruelty and lust proved able to
protract it. This cycle of horrid agony and abject violation was repeated as
many times as it pleased her tormentor to repeat it, and soon she lost count.
Finally, instead of lingering in her mouth, he brought the jug to her lips,
and then picked up more crabs which he placed on the platter stitched to the
tip of her clitoris, smiling as her mouth distended almost to the point of
letting the gag fall off in a howl of demented torment when another morsel of
flesh was ripped off from her pierced femininity.
As her convulsions paused, he added another crab to the platter stitched to
her left nipple, followed up after a while by one to the right, and kept
adding or replacing the creatures piecemeal while she howled in uninterrupted
agony, wracked by the searing torment her jerks caused on her dislocated
joints and jerking violently when a morsel of flesh was ripped off her pierced
femininity by the vicious jaws of a crab. The spasmodic convulsions of her
loins, the twitching of her strained thigh muscles, and her fingers grasping
at air, meanwhile, slowly fanned new fire into his drug enhanced arousal.
Lyral, still buckling strenuously over the hot coals, watched anxiously as her
friend convulsed violently from the searing agony of having her feminine
flesh ripped off bit by bit, the bleeding now more pronounced but still fairly
limited, but the pain unparalleled, and showing plainly in the contorted face
and the harrowing screams. Dread consumed Lyral at the thought of finding her
friend so horribly mutilated that not even her healing power would restore
what had been torn off, but as far as she could see each crab actually took a
single morsel and then laboriously consumed it before coming back for more, so
although her torment was uninterrupted, actual damage was rather limited.
When ready, the Southerner used a candle to scare off the crabs scuttling
around Kayleen's crotch area, cruelly searing the flapping shreds of her
vagina, then threaded a cord through them, carefully knotting it to the
needles piercing her flesh, and pulling it through her clitoris twice while
she stiffened in a howl of demented torment. Then, with a vicious smile, he
penetrated her love channel in frenzied abandon, pulling the cord taut so that
his thrusts shredded her flesh, twisting needles and hooks and ripping through
her clitoris and the rim of her vagina while she howled in abysmal torment.
Growling in frenzied excitement, he thrust into her with increasing
viciousness, pulling out to smear white powder inside her bleeding womb so
that her violation would resume without the benefit of being lubricated by her
blood and pulling the cord left and right repeatedly so that his penetration
tore the wounds in her vagina wider open. Her pitiful screams continued even
after he came inside her, as he kept pulling alternately on the cord while
she shook in harrowing pain.
When Grod stepped in the Southerner's place, Kayleen's teary gaze focused on
something he was carrying. He freed her from the chains, but without
unfastening her restrains or even removing hooks and needles from her bleeding
body dragged her to the cross rack, where she saw that he was carrying a set
of cuffs. He had already replaced the cuffs she wore when racking her, to make
sure her blood vessels would not be slit open, but her joints had been
dislocated for hours now and surely he did not mean to rack them further.
He placed her with her back on the rack, removed her iron waist band and
replaced it with another, which wrenched a gasp from her torn mouth as it was
studded with dull iron spikes. Unlike its predecessor, this could be tightened
with screws, and the spikes dug in her soft flesh, while another pain told her
that the iron band's edges were also serrated and scratched painfully the skin
once the band was tightened, constricting her breathing.
Now that she could not roll off the rack, he replaced the cuffs at her ankles
with wicked, heavy iron cuffs which had dull spikes and dents in places were
they would not endanger blood vessels, and which he tightened savagely with a
screw almost to the point of crushing her ankles in them. Thus, when he
replaced her wrist cuffs, the relief of having her wrists free for the first
time in weeks was brief and soon replaced by the crushing torment of dull
spikes, soon joined by similar ache from elbow and knee rings.
Next, he produced two thin iron bands, again studded and dented, which he
tightened around her thighs, near her crotch, turning the screw so tight that
the iron sunk in her flesh, tracing bleeding scratches and breaking a few
needles while she howled in sudden pain. When he cast her old restraints
negligently away, she realized that these were the restraints that she would
wear from now on, designed to torment her bitterly and without relief, day and
night, increasing her suffering another notch.
Lyral screamed in fear as the Southerner neared her, almost wishing he let her
on the hot coals although her back and buttocks had been burned crimson by the
relentless heat. Even if the torture had not been as severe as the horrors
inflicted on her friend, she had often been near breaking when her aching
muscles had failed to deliver her back from being scorched raw. But the mere
thought of what the swarthy old man was capable of doing inspired in her a
terror so boundless that only Zhorun's obsession with tormenting her friend
could explain how their torturers failed to exploit it.
Kayleen gasped when Grod produced a serrated, hinged iron band which he closed
around the base of her left breast, which bulged while he screwed it tighter
and tighter, unmoved by her screams as it caught on needles and hooks,
dragging them further through her suffering flesh. A similar fate befell her
right breast, and as the pain mounted in her constricted mounds a bitter sob
shook her at the thought of spending whole nights in such agony.
Her eyes widened in fear when he trapped her left nipple in a vise and screwed
it painfully tight, causing blood to spurt while she screamed in mad pain as
the device bent the hooks and needles still piercing the mauled flesh. As the
same happened to her other nipple, she realized that the vises had fine chains
meant to be attached to rings in her restraints, her collar in this case, and
could also become instruments of further torment. And the fears fanned by this
train of thoughts burst into bitter screams when he crushed her clitoris in a
similar vise, pulling its chain savagely to fasten it to her waist band.
Just as she wondered whether today's session, since Zhorun was not present,
would be interrupted here, leaving her to suffer in her new restraints, her
tormentor made obvious what the cross rack could still do to a female victim
whose joints had been already dislocated. The device he was fastening between
her trembling legs consisted of a stout bar, which he fastened to her ankle
cuffs, from whose middle protruded a long steel pole, whose tip tapered into
a roughly hewn wooden cone, wickedly hacked and dented.
Another cross bar was fastened to her knee cuffs, and when the tip nudged her
torn sphincter she screamed in bitter despair at the thought of its size and
dents. The cone distended the tattered rim of her sphincter, dislodging some
of the hooks and needles still piercing it, causing her to arch with a scream
of hopeless torment. The dents scraped the shredded rim, and then the cone
filled the opening of her bowels while she convulsed in pain around its girth,
her screams waning and waxing in bitter woe.
A wave of white hot agony surged from her left thigh when he cranked the
roller, pulling the leg by the ankle and stretching muscles and ligaments,
while pain throbbed in her ankle and knee smarting under the constriction of
the wicked cuffs. What in her previous experiences on the rack had been the
pinnacle of agony, the tearing of muscles once the bone had been wrought out
of its seat, was now the beginning of her torture, and compounded the tearing
of her sphincter, as the only avenue for the pull on her leg consisted in
further penetration by the girth of the cone.
Remembering the torment she had perceived in her friend's dislocated joints,
Lyral gasped when she realized that they would be stretched on the rack again,
beyond herself at the thought of the atrocity her friend was about to
withstand. From her position, she could not see the pole well enough to
understand its function, and her mind was still under the impression of the
agonies of dislocation since the night before. As for her own predicament, the
Southerner had fastened her ankle cuffs to a chain from the ceiling, hanging
her upside down with the wrists cuffed behind her back, but was apparently
more interested in following her friend's agonies.
Kayleen's screams rose higher when Grod cranked the other roller, and the cone
bore deeper through her sphincter, ripping the cuts along its rim slightly
wider as it had already distended her bowels near tearing point and was thus
ripping the flesh where it had been already weakened, wrenching howls of
abysmal pain from her stretched body as her taut legs quivered spasmodically
from the consuming pain and her chest heaved, panting heavily, shaken by
bitter screams and fits of howling agony.
He splashed her with cold, salt water, causing her screams to change in pitch
as the pain from the salt seeping in wounds all over her momentarily replaced
the agony from her limbs and bowels, but as he slowly cranked the rollers
pulling on her ankles her torment kept increasing as her sphincter was ripped
further open and her strained muscles shot blazes of white hot pain through
her convulsing body, while the dents now scraped her insides and her mouth was
distended in an uninterrupted scream of abysmal agony whose pitch changed with
the waves of anguish wracking her stretched body.
One notch at a time, he pulled her spasming legs beyond dislocation, wrenching
raucous screams as the tendons strained near the point of being wrenched from
the trembling muscles, while the cone distended her sphincter tearing its
wounded rim wider as she convulsed in howling agony. Just as the thought of
having reached the bottom of this hell formed in her mind, a new agony burst
in her breast as droplets of bubbling grease scorched it, chasing the
constricted nipple while she jerked in renewed torment and a howl of absolute
agony surged from her distended mouth.
It took only a split second for her spasmodic jerk to reverberate through her
strained leg muscles, rebounding in a blaze of unbelievable torment as the
fibers of tendon and muscle trembled near rupture under her spasmodic efforts
to wrench herself away from the sizzling grease. Grod had correctly guessed
that his favored approach, bringing bone and muscle near the edge and letting
the victim cross it briefly upon each pain induced jerk, would have been very
effective on the athletic woman, as her toned physique lent her jerks a
strength far beyond the ordinary. Now this strength was slowly tearing the
supple tendons of her thighs near the point of rupture, while her ass was
being ripped open by the merciless cone.
Lyral gasped when the sizzling liquid scorched her friend's breast, unable to
believe that such cruelty could be perpetrated and protracted, even more as
she understood that the grease was meant to cause her friend to tear her own
limbs into deeper pits of hellish agony. Her own back was now hurting horribly
as the burns oozed, and she could only guess at what unbearable torment would
her friend suffer once grease started to blister burned skin.
Grod stopped dripping grease on Kayleen's scorched chest and poured the
contents of the jug in her mouth, using one hand to keep her head from jerking
left and right while she howled from the unrelenting torment of her bowels and
legs, and splashing her with more cold, salt water for good measure. He slowly
cranked the rollers again, notch after notch, inspecting her thighs and
watching as signs of rupture in her tendons and thigh muscles surfaced as he
dripped sizzling grease on her mound and cunt lips, starting where a needle
or hook had lacerated the skin, while she howled in demented agony and wracked
her limbs with her own spasmodic jerks.
He circled her, moving above her head between her stretched arms, and cranked
the rollers pulling on her wrists, fanning new despair into her screams as she
realized that more torments were to come. Once her arms started trembling as
the rack stretched her muscles and tendons, he grabbed the vise on her left
nipple and pulled it, dripping sizzling grease on the distended breast flesh
while she howled in helpless agony.
Unlike her lower limbs, where the pain originated from the ripping of her
sphincter was on par with the straining of her muscles, so that a few drops of
grease were more than enough to keep her jerking in merciless agony, with her
upper limbs the grease was an integral component of her ongoing torture as it
wandered mercilessly on her breast, drop by drop, wrenching gut-wrenching cries
of desperate torment from her convulsing chest, whose spasmodic jerks sent
lances of pain through her hip and shoulder joints, especially the latter, just
as her tormentor's intended.
Her head shook aimlessly while he lingered on her nipple, repeatedly scorching
it with the sizzling fluid and pulling it left and right in order to expose
different areas of feminine flesh to its burning kiss, each drop bubbling on
the pink flesh turning it crimson while a new howl of demented pain wracked
her panting chest. Biding his time, he alternated the cranking of the rollers
with relentless dripping of sizzling grease on her chest, mostly on her
breasts and nipples as these wrenched the loudest screams from her torn mouth.
Lyral kept watching her friend's agonies until the Southerner produced another
crab, about two inches across, and dragged slowly it along her burned back,
until the creature suddenly pinched her flesh and tore a bit of scorched flesh
with its strong jaws, causing her to bend and buckle in sudden agony. He had
waited for her burns to become painful, and was now going to slowly rip off
her blistered flesh one morsel at a time.
After protracting Kayleen's agonies until her screams waned, Grod let her sip
from the jug, then with steel in his eyes cranked the rollers again, dripping
grease on her chest, belly and limbs, without interruption, always careful to
alternate between the left and right sides of her body so that she would jerk
and buckle spasmodically while screaming in unbearable agony, pulling
repeatedly at the stretched muscle of her suffering joints.
He kept up with this for a long time, then returned to dripping grease on her
breasts and nipples, always inspecting her shoulder joints, watching for signs
of tearing as cries of sheer agony surged from her mouth one after the other.
Her nipples had been peeled raw by the repeated application of sizzling grease
and the vises had been tightened, so that they would not slip off, causing
them to bloodily scrape the feminine buds between howls of desperate anguish.
Swaths of breast skin flared with the angry crimson of scorched flesh, and when
rivulets of grease crossed them, blasts of hellish agony surged from her mouth
in howls of unspeakable anguish. But the pain from her shoulder joints was
growing even beyond that, as the relentless pull of the rack had stretched
them beyond recognition, leaving the muscle sunken and wracking new pinnacles
of torment on her as bleeding tears started appearing where the muscle and
tendons were being slowly ruptured, turning into sickeningly ripping gashes
while her howls echoed desperately under the vaults of the torture chamber.
Although he protracted the torture almost to the point of ripping her arms off
their sockets, although she screamed and howled in appalling agony, not once
did his gaze catch in hers the signs of defeat he was seeking. He could have
torn her limbs off, but he lessened the pull of the rack instead, allowing the
strained strands of muscle to wreak new pain though her trembling body as they
contracted spasmodically. He tried to break her by repeatedly pulling and
releasing her arms, watching her gaze as her body stiffened in seizures of raw
agony and convulsed in jerks of desperate torment, but she defied him again.
Lyral's own screams now echoed her friend's, as the Southerner had procured
another crab and alternated them, lewdly targeting her buttocks and the soft
back of her thighs. Although the crabs, just like their smaller cousins, tore
flesh one morsel at a time before laboriously consuming it, she was bleeding
from dozens of small bites where her scorched flesh had been ripped off, and
her gaze wandered to her friend only when a scream rose loud enough to pierce
the haze of her own agony. Still, she saw enough to realize in horror that her
friend's muscles and tendons were being ripped to shreds,
Grod let Kayleen sip from the jug again then circled her, removed the cross
bars from her lower limbs and slowly pulled out the cone from her torn
sphincter, releasing the rollers one notch at a time while she screamed and
trembled as blood flowed from her wounded bowels. He used the same paste which
had been used in the previous sessions to staunch bleeding, which led her to
hope that her torture was almost over, but then brought the jug to her lips
and poured its contents in her mouth, in spite of her scream of helpless
despair as she realized that such was not the case.
He procured another pole, tipped by a wooden cone whose size and girth
bespoke the intent to distend and rupture the womb while scraping it raw on
the dents hacked into its surface, and she shuddered as he fastened the
supporting crossbars to her ankles and knees. When the tip nudged the bleeding
tatters around the rim of her vagina, a bitter sob shook her stretched form.
She was about to see her torment intensified and the core of her femininity
subjected to further abject sufferings, and even her determination faltered at
the thought. Somehow, she found her last ounces of resolve in the sobbing form
of her friend, who was being tortured because she had slipped. She would not
allow that to happen again, at any price.
Ending the only relief allowed to her panting body, he resumed the cranking
of the rollers pulling on her ankles. The restraints she had been imprisoned
in added to her torment, just as those on her arms had, as the studs pressed
on the bone while the dented edges scraped her skin, but the pain from the
pull on her dislocated joints mounted unrelentingly, surpassing everything
else while screams burst from her throat in a frenzy of sheer anguish.
Just as she thought that it could not get worse, the penetration of the cone
in her vagina reached the point where its girth started distending her love
channel, ripping the cuts along its rim slightly wider while the dents scraped
her innards and blood flowed again while she jerked in abysmal pain. As he was
wont to do, he had set up her torment so that the rack pulled her thighs near
the point of shredding her muscles and tendons, forcing her to impale herself
on the cone, so that the agony of having her vagina ripped wider and wider
caused her to jerk violently, pulling her limbs beyond the point of rupture.
Lyral managed to get a glimpse of her friend's predicament as she happened to
bend in screaming anguish from another bite at the same time her friend jerked
herself into further agony, and the sight of the blood-stained wood tearing
her friend's femininity asunder and ripping it apart was impressed on her mind
by the gut-wrenching scream of unbridled torment which followed.
Whenever Kayleen screams subsided, either out of exhaustion or because she had
found a precarious balance whose level of pain was slightly less unbearable,
Grod would drop sizzling grease on her mons or thighs, causing her muscles to
contract in a jerk of harrowing agony while the fluid seared skin and flesh,
leaving angry crimson blisters or flowing agonizingly over already scorched
burns, rekindling the sounds of her anguish in a neverending nightmare of
harrowing screams and wheezing howls of hopeless torment.
In spite of the mind-numbing waves of relentless pain, she managed to hide the
despair from her contorted visage, denying her tormentor any hint about how
close she was to breaking, but the horrid price of this feat of courage was
ever increasing torment, so devastating and all-consuming that he had to hold
her mouth open and pour the contents of the jug over and over to prevent her
from sliding into the exhausted stupor induced by overwhelming pain,
especially once tears started forming in the sunken flesh where her hip joints
used to be as her torture was protracted, tears which her violent convulsions
ripped into bleeding gashes as he pulled the chain on her clitoris, distending
it unmercifully and dripping sizzling grease on her scorched femininity.
This was the pinnacle of agony, where he wanted to keep her until anything
else became secondary to the imperative of stopping the pain, so he lessened
the traction on her limbs one notch, resuming the dripping of grease on her
quivering crotch, and then cranked the rack again, alternating traction and
release in a dance of contrasting agonies while repeatedly searing her
distended clitoris, initially turning it an angry crimson, then slowly peeling
it while she howled in unspeakable torment, and finally stopping just short of
ripping it off her crotch in tatters as tears formed along the distended flesh
and started bleeding while the grease seeped in and her screams of abysmal
woe echoed uninterruptedly in the torture chamber.
Lyral somehow managed, in between the blasts of hellish pain coursing through
her whenever the jaws ripped a morsel of her scorched flesh, to keep herself
from admitting defeat. She hated herself for it, but she could not stand the
sight of the bleeding gashes lengthening in her friend's hips where the muscle
was being torn asunder, while her vagina was being literally ripped apart and
scraped raw and the sizzling grease was blistering her crimson flesh. But this
made her realize that Zhorun, whom she wanted to address, was not present,
and the surprise for a moment made her forget even her agonies.
As if in confirmation, while she was still sizing up the discovery, as Grod
was about to let the Easterner take his place the Southerner stepped in,
asking mockingly "Do you mind ?" before nearing Kayleen's crotch and producing
a needle and a cord. Lyral noticed her friend's body shaking in a sob of
bitter despair, and then closed her eyes as screams echoed in the room while
the cord was again threaded through the tatters of her friend's vagina before
the swarthy old man penetrated it, thrusting with rutting force which wrenched
desperate howls of torment as they pulled on the shredded thigh muscles.
The episode made Lyral realize that Grod had foregone raping Kayleen today,
and the only explanation she could find was that he had been doing that only
on Zhorun's orders. It was hard to believe that the feared executioner could
do anything merciful, and the sight of a breast scorched raw by the grease
canceled any such illusion, but the fact remained that Zhorun was not present
and probably not watching either.
The Easterner neared the rack and slowly released the rollers, ignoring
Kayleen's cries as her strained muscles contracted in trembling spasms, not
nearly as agonizing as the unrelenting alternation of traction and release they
had been subjected to but still harrowingly painful. Once her limbs were back
near their sockets, he removed some of the needles and hooks still piercing
her and started treating her wounds, including the gashes in her torn muscles
and the rips in her orifices, smearing them with paste and painstakingly
stitching them. She had undergone such treatment after battle before meeting
Lyral, but now she cried bitterly as it was performed, in part because it was
just like torture, applied to fiendishly painful wounds and with no intent to
spare her in any way, in part because it was only meant to prevent excessive
blood losses from sparing her further torments.
When he released her from the rack, he hesitated a moment as a scream rose from
her chest when her limbs were deprived of support, but then his jaw set and he
tightened her iron collar, constricting the windpipe before cuffing her wrists
and ankles together and dragging her by the hair between two pillars. Choked
screams wracked her chest during the brief trip, whenever her shredded muscles
were pulled even slightly, but when he cuffed her ankles to chains dangling
from the ceiling her face contorted in a mask of screaming agony as the
shredded muscles of her hip joints had to bear her full weight. Her screams
rose in full once he released the collar, and she found little comfort when he
also cuffed her wrists to rings in the floor, because spreading the weight had
reduced the risk of her thighs being torn off but increased the agony since her
arms had been cruelly twisted in their sockets.
A bitter sob of despair shook her heaving chest when she saw him produce a
sharp, thin blade and grab her left foot. With cruel determination, he snug
the blade under her partially healed toenail and cut, causing her to stiffen
and then arch in a scream of pain while the blade slowly lifted the nail off
its bed and freed the needle still lodged there from the morning. He let her
buckle in bitter woe for a while, then repeated the procedure on her other
foot, causing her to writhe in abysmal torment again and fanning her terror
as his hands caressed her other toes and the needles therein.
As he was fond of, he slowly protracted the torment of her toenails and then
repeated it on her fingernails, cutting under each nail and using the tip to
remove the needle piercing the nail bed with excruciating slowness while she
shook her head, screaming in renewed agony as she could not prevent her limbs
from jerking in response to the pain inflicted upon them, causing blasts of
hellish agony to surge from the torn strands of muscle at her joints.
Lyral had been tied with her hands and feet in front of her, trapped in a
pillory, and gasped when she saw Grod fetch a iron crusher, trapping her
middle finger in its serrated jaw. She started screaming when he closed the
jaws, as the device was essentially a fiendish nutcracker which was breaking
her finger bone, and her scream rose in shrill agony when it did.
The Easterner poured the contents of the jug in Kayleen's mouth, holding it
still with one hand as she quivered and sobbed bitterly, then moved behind her
and tied cords to a pair of hooks left in her buttock, pulling on them with
one hand to distend the skin in between before dragging the blade just enough
to slice it open, and kept pulling so that the wound was slowly ripped open
while she screamed from the mounting agony until one hook tore free with a
spurt of blood, which he quickly quenched by smearing paste in the shallow
wound. His hand caressed her buttock, lingering in the places where a hook or
a needle pierced it, causing her to shudder each time in anticipation of
further agonies, finally grabbing a needle and twisting it while the blade
slowly cut it free, wrenching a howl of pure agony from her sore throat.
With exquisite patience, he chased each hook and needle still piercing her
buttocks and used it as the pinpoint of new agonies. He would pull on each hook
until skin and flesh became taut as a drum, which often was enough to cause
her to writhe in unbearable pain, and then he would slowly cut through, leaving
a shallow slit which he excruciatingly ripped wider until a hook was torn
free. With needles, he would pull on one end while the tip of the blade dug
under their length, ripping them out by slowly lacerating the seat they had
been pushed into. Sometimes, he would also stitch the worst wounds, once they
were past their prime of pain and had thus fulfilled their purpose.
In either case, the agony thus inflicted surged through her hung frame in
spasmodic jerks of sharp pain, wrenching from her harsh gasps of bitter anguish
which burst into howls of unspeakable woe once the waves of searing torment
from the shredded muscles of her joints followed in reaction. He extended his
ministrations to her muscular back, and then to the back of her thighs, slowly
protracting her agonies until her screams waned to pitiful wheezes.
Lyral's own screams punctuated her friend's as Grod crushed her toes and
fingers, one at a time, letting her agonize over each for how long as it took
before breaking the next. The pain was so unbearable that she was tempted to
heal herself on the spot, but something told her that what their tormentors
wanted was just that, so she refrained from it, trying to gather resolve by
looking up at the courage of her friend suffering the hellish agonies of the
blade ripping heinous wounds in her mauled body.
Kayleen sputtered while attempting to drink the syrup the Easterner was
pouring in her mouth, craving and hating at the same time the liquid which
furthered her torment by lending her new strength but also exacerbating her
sensitivity to pain. He promptly demonstrated the latter by grabbing a hook
lodged in her thigh, using it to pull the skin taut and then slice it open
with his blade, since her howl rose to unprecedented heights as the skin had
been burned and blistered by the grease and the pain when the hook ripped it
open was beyond description.
As slicing through blistered skin proved vastly more painful than through
sound skin, he could bid his time and achieve the same level of torment, or
press the matter and wrench strangled howls of unparalleled agony and violent
convulsions, violent enough to bend and break some of the needles still lodged
deep in some of her muscles, which engendered fits of spasmodic jerking as the
pain from the shredded muscles of her joints fed on itself instead of
subsiding, until exhaustion mercifully prevented her from further wracking her
joints into hells of unbounded again. He coldly alternated between the two,
sparing her breasts and crotch for later but always watching her joints for
signs of tearing, although as the torture progressed he started to increase
the level of her torments in the hope of breaking her.
As each cut was often short, even when subsequently ripped open by a hook, he
could afford to inflict them in numbers, crisscrossing her blistered front with
agonizing lacerations but also occasionally returning to unscorched skin, such
as between her fingers or toes. He stayed well clear of her joints, well aware
that the strands of muscle connecting her limbs to her torso had been already
weakened and were however causing more than enough pain as they stood.
Having removed most of the hooks still lodged in her flesh, he introduced a new
twist in her torment by chasing the needles broken by her jerks, digging under
them with the tip of the blade so that the needle would be dislodged and its
tip would scratch the wound underneath while being pulled out. Rivulets of
blood traced their way down her front as he thus removed the needles, and
eventually, even if he tried to minimize the loss of blood, her oozing flesh
was covered in a sheen of blood and sweat, interrupted only by the dozens of
crimson slits where her skin had been ripped open. Her suspended body twitched
and shook as she screamed bitterly, and long howls of desperate agony surged
from her chest whenever the blade cut her skin open again.
As over half of Lyral's toes and fingers had been broken, Grod had begun to
bid his time in between, allowing Lyral's gaze to wander in the direction of
her friend's hellish screams. Although her vision was clouded by pain, she
gasped at the dozens of wounds slowly bleeding in her friend's muscular back,
taking some time to realize that they had been treated or her friend would
have been dead by now. Even so, considering the convulsions caused by the
ripping of the scorched front, she feared that her friend would not survive
long enough for her to effect any healing.
As Kayleen was sliding into exhaustion the Easterner poured the contents of
the jug into her mouth, restoring some energy to her voice, thus returned to
howls which echoed under the vaults of the torture chamber when he started
slicing through the blistered flesh of her breasts. As they had been seared by
the sizzling grease many times over and scorched deeply and repeatedly, the
blade even lightly applied lifted shreds of oozing flesh and traced gashes of
blinding pain even before the pull of the hooks blasted harrowing surges of
unspeakable woe through her heaving chest, wracking her like a rag doll while
her frothing mouth stood agape in a protracted howl of unbridled agony.
Such was the condition of her nipples that once he switched to torment them,
even his cruel inventiveness was unable to protract the torture for long,
although he managed to wreak howls of unprecedented anguish from her shaking
form by slowly peeling scorched tissue off the blistered bud until the
remaining hooks and needles could be freed by the tip, alternating between
left and right nipple and tightening the vises on the bleeding tatters of one
delectable bud while tormenting the other.
She sputtered, shaken by harsh cries of despair, when he brought the jug to
her lips again, aware in the haze of her agonies of what he would do next, the
next step down the pits of hell her tormentors were so fond of and which she
feared so deeply that she had tried her best to hide from them. He brought the
blade near her cunt lips and sliced them, bursting blisters open with
harrowing slowness and tracing short, shallow gashes of searing pain on taut
skin which he would then tear wider open by pulling on the last hooks, the
tiny hooks inserted by the Southerner and which he had not removed yet.
Such was the torment that her convulsions rattled the chains in spite of the
devastated state of her muscles, and as this was the result of jerks in her
torso, it also resulted in raucous screams of agony as the torn strands of
muscles in her joints were also rattled unmercifully. With savage cruelty, he
used the tip of the blade to rip pieces of scorched skin off her mons and
inner lips, lingering with the blade on the pulsating flesh until the pain
caused her to jerk spasmodically, ripping the scorched tissue off.
He had to bring the jug to her lips often now, because each application of the
thin blade engendered unprecedented agonies in the cut flesh, causing her to
scream her lungs out during the whole excruciating mutilation and also during
the subsequent frenzy of convulsed howling as the agony from her ripped
muscles was rekindled into a vicious spiral which lasted until she exhausted
herself to the point of being unable to jerk herself into further pain.
Unlike in previous occasions, he had chosen restraints which did not
immobilize her, so he kept the blade clear of vital areas lest a jerk caused a
lethal wound, but for her crotch he used his other hand to be sure. She
jerked in mad terror when he removed the vise from her clitoris, in
anticipation of the horror which followed.
Using the tip of the blade, he scraped a bit of scorched tissue from her
tormented femininity, pulling towards himself until she pulled back in a jerk
as the pain of the tip twisting in a blister rose to unbearable agony and
surged in a howl of abysmal torment, causing as a reaction she could not
prevent another frenzy of torment of her joints.
As the tip tore the tiniest bits of scorched tissue, the torture could be
protracted on and on, even longer than the torment of the crabs as the
repeated application of sizzling grease had left burns which oozed slowly
rather than bleeding profusely. Although the tiny wounds he left were shallow
enough to not endanger the furthering of her abysmal torments, however, her
clitoris, like her nipples, had been subjected to such abuse that he could not
protract its torture for long.
As he started using the tip to carve tiny bits of flesh from the tattered rim
of her vagina and the sensitive initial tract of the love channel, extending
her torment with agonies maybe less intense but more deeply frightening, the
grip of despair clutched her heart. Beyond courage, beyond dedication to the
friends of a lifetime, her world had been narrowed to the agony of the blade
and the blazing pain of the ripped flesh.
Another gut-wrenching howl shook her as he ripped another wound in her
clitoris, rising in a surge of despair and torment not unlike the many which
had left her mouth today but with nothing of her resolve left behind. He cut
her again before tearing the inside of her vagina, and her howls formed a word
which broke the silence she had opposed to her tormentors in the last
sessions, a word of begging and defeat, a plea ... "Enough!".
Lyral had seen defeat in her friend's eyes, and saw everything crumble before
her eyes. In a split second, almost unaware of herself, she let her pain and
despair and agony vent in a scream, a "NOOOOOOOOO" louder than any other
scream they had managed to wrench from her, ... loud enough to dwarf her
friend's exhausted whisper.
The Easterner was an experienced executioner, and was aware of the fact that
Kayleen was on the verge of breaking, but she had looked on the verge of
breaking before and had always found the resolve to hold on. He subscribed to
the notion that Lyral could be broken by tormenting her friend, so finding his
approach confirmed, he moved so as to be able to watch Lyral's reactions
while he protracted Kayleen's torments.
The tip of the Easterner's blade ripped bits of blistered flesh from Kayleen's
clitoris and vagina, and unredeemed howls of unspeakable anguish from her
torn mouth, but in the depths of her agony she had found in her friend's
gesture an anchor for holding on a bit more, so she hid between her screams
and buckled in spasmodic agonies which subsided quickly. Even forcing her to
sip from the jug was no longer enough to prevent her from sliding into shock
whenever the blade ripped some flesh from her bleeding femininity, so after a
few more attempts her torture was finally interrupted.
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