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Chapter 22 - The Taste of Defeat
The lightning died on Zhorun's gnarled fingers as his mind registered the
warning from one of the many spells he had strewn in his lair, a spell meant
to tell him when somebody used magic on his premises. This was an old
precaution, from the times he still lived and feared for his life, and he now
found inconceivable that someone could think of standing up to him.
"Who dares ?" screeched the former wizard, his voice high pitched with rage.
In a split second, the Southerner found himself alone in the room, blinking at
the spot where Zhorun had been. Then a cruel smile curved his lips as his gaze
shifted towards Kayleen's hanging form,
"He left, but we're still here. And I don't feel like sleeping,"
He lowered her shoulders on the floor and cruelly penetrated her sphincter,
laughing at her scream of bitter despair. He had resented Zhorun's impatience,
but thought better of standing up against him. Besides, he knew that the
insult was unwarranted: the bitch really hated being taken against her will,
and the more painful and bloody the violation, the harder it was on her.
When Zhorun returned, the Southerner's drug-enhanced lust had been spent and
rekindled twice and he was now about violating the sobbing Kayleen again, but
the former wizard was in no mood to find this amusing.
"Idiot! Pig! I had told you to make her suffer, and you indulge your filthy
cravings instead ?"
Surprised, the Southerner darted away without even composing himself, fearing
the wizard's wrath, but no magic followed the enraged words.
"Grod, it's always you who I can count upon. Without the Priestess, we must
have this girl tell us where the Sorceress hides. Resume her interrogation on
the double, with quicklime if you still have some."
Grod, whose apron had saved him from the worst effects of the flame arrow, was
nevertheless badly burned, and in no shape to carry out his Master's orders.
"If I may speak, Master ?" he croaked hesitatingly, then continued.
"We should allow her to recover, Master. Her friend's healing no longer
offsets the damage we inflict. Besides, I am not at my best, at present."
"They think so, do they ? Her friend thinks that we'll have to be soft. But
they underestimated me. You, my loyal servant, are granted the use of any
healing potion found in the Priestesses' camp, and bring a spare one here.
We'll give it to her so that Chang can make sure she spends the rest of the
night in pain. And you had better get some sleep, Hadrad, because tomorrow
morning you are expected to put your rutting frenzies to some use. Myself,
I'll make sure the three of you can make her regret her defiance, unhindered."
After Grod and the Southerner departed Zhorun stood there, motionless, while
the Easterner lowered Kayleen on the floor and slowly removed the implements
of her torment, one by one, summarily treating the worst wounds. It took him a
long time, and he shook his head often, but finally Grod arrived and the two
poured the contents of a flask down Kayleen's throat.
Kayleen trembled and moaned as the liquid, created by the Priestesses for
their own use and occasionally sold for money, coursed through her body with
an effect similar to her friend's power, although of lesser impact. A hoarse
sigh escaped her lips as her worst wounds, those bleeding deep inside her
innards, were mended at least in part.
The Easterner cuffed her ankles together and tightened the iron bands at her
knees and thighs. Wrists and elbows were already tight enough, as the chafed
and bleeding skin testified, and the same could be said for the serrated iron
band at her waist and the iron rings at the base of her breasts. A low cry
escaped her lips when he reached for the barbed cord.
When they left, taking the light of the torches with them, Kayleen was already
sobbing softly from the pain of her restraints and the prospect of spending
the rest of the night in unrelenting torment. She had to stand with her
wounded feet wrapped in of barbed cord, her legs slightly bent at the knee so
that she could not find respite for her leg muscles and had to shift her
weight from one dislocated hip joint to the other as the barbs bit her soles.
She had to bend with her arms pulled up behind her back to prevent the barbed
cord around her breasts from raking the flesh broiled by the quicklime, but
this pulled two more strands of barbed cord through her bleeding crotch and
put most of her weight on her dislocated shoulder joints. The salt from the
repeated splashes with freezing cold salt water burned in her wounds, and she
shivered helplessly from the chilling water.
She hung there, and as time passed her agonies increased, causing her to sob
bitterly and scream occasionally when her shifting weight caused flashes of
agony in a hip joint or a barb raked the shredded flesh of her crotch and
forced her to swing from her swollen shoulder joints. The iron band at her
waist cut her skin whenever she tried to breathe, and the blood from her
wounded soles pooled at her feet. And she was alone.
She called Lyral countless times, hoping beyond all reason that she could
somehow appear out of nowhere. Her poor friend was no more, probably because
one of the two torturers went too far. Zhorun had been away just enough to win
a confrontation with the Priestesses, and if he had defeated them Shandra was
the only remaining hope that he could be stopped. She trembled at the thought
of how important her silence had become, because very little remained of the
proud Warrior Queen in the sobbing girl hanging in the dark.
In spite of her exhaustion, however badly her body craved rest, she only
managed to teeter on the brink of sleep, because as soon as her muscles
relaxed pain bit her somewhere, either the joints or the crotch mostly, and
she kept sobbing and screaming, unaware of Zhorun who stood in the darkness
and savored every bit of her anguish in lieu of pleasures now beyond him.
He had considered looking in his collection of magical treatises for some
means by which the damage inflicted during her torture could be offset, but
just now he wanted to see her suffer first and foremost. The battle had
provided a number of healing potions which were of no use to him, baneful
even, in his present condition. He would use them first.
When footsteps announced the return of the three torturers, a sigh of despair
coursed through Kayleen's body, softly rattling her chains. She was already in
bitter pain, most of her body covered in burns left by the raging heat of the
coals or broiled by quicklime, her dislocated joints swollen and ready to send
blazes of searing agony when stressed, her femininity bloodily ripped and
repeatedly torn. How could she face another day of torture, more harrowing
violations at the hands of the swarthy old pig, the exquisite cruelties of the
Easterner, or Grod's merciless grinding of muscle and bone, she did not know.
Then the torches lit the chamber, and she screamed in terror when the
Southerner neared, mostly naked, his slim build a silhouette of horror against
torchlight. He wore a harness of leather straps, with small iron studs, which
would rake her body mercilessly while he indulged in raping her. The straps
around his hands looked different, and as his gaze met hers as he rubbed the
left one against wood, letting the rasping noise confirm her fears.
"I see you appreciate what's next," whispered the Southerner.
Her scream had been caused by the sight of his member, which stood swollen and
prodigiously erect in a studded leather harness. The old man looked on the
verge of a stroke, and was drooling and cackling insanely while licking his
lips in anticipation. When he unfastened her restraints, she tried to escape
his grip, but her dislocated joints prevented her from achieving anything
beyond wracking herself into screaming agony.
He fastened her wrists behind her back, then drove hooks through her nipples,
reopening the partially healed wounds from the day before amidst her screams,
then lifted her off the floor by her ankles and wound the chains from the
hooks through her crotch, forcing her to bend and raise her chest until he
fastened them to her wrists. He left her there, straining to spare her nipples
from being ripped off, then grabbed her hips and penetrated her sphincter.
She screamed in raw pain as the rasping of her bowels compounded the the agony
in her joints, the ripping of her nipples, and the flaying of her scorched
thighs by the sharkskin stripes under his palms. Her voice rose in screeches
and rumbled in moans as he thrust, using his hands to find the partially
healed cuts from yesterday and guide his member to tear them open again.
It took an inordinate amount of time to slake his lust, but as he pulled out
of her bleeding orifice he immediately proved his cruelty was undiminished. He
lowered her briefly on the floor, only to lift her again shortly thereafter by
chains fastened to the bands around her elbows and knees. While she cried from
the pain in her joints, he fetched a heavy, braided whip and lashed the soles
of her feet, watching her bend and distend as screams surged from her mouth.
The heavy whip traced a bleeding strip on the soft underside of her thighs,
causing her to jerk and howl in unbridled pain. The next lash flared on her
arms, and when he stroke her buttocks blood sprayed all around as the whip had
cut scorched and broiled skin, causing her to arch and tremble in screaming
pain. When the whip flayed the tender flesh between her thighs, her voice
tinged with bitter despair, which he fanned by repeatedly lashing her labia.
She screamed and writhed as the whipping rekindled his drug-induced arousal,
whose resurgence she watched in loathing as he changed her restraints,
cuffing each wrist to the corresponding ankle and suspending her lewdly spread
between two pillars, her crotch ready to be shafted by his bulging member.
A scream erupted from her mouth when he pulled her up by the few curls of her
pubic hair left and penetrated her vagina with unbridled lust, tearing the
cuts around its rim open again while wracking her joints into depths of white
hot pain. The studs raked her insides, and when she started bleeding he paused
his assault to smear her insides with the white powder he used to dry them for
the pleasure of chafing them raw while she arched in mad agony.
As the violation continued, she realized he must have had taken extra doses of
whatever he had used before because his neck veins bulged, his eyes were about
twice their normal size and he seemed out of his mind, lost in a deranged
frenzy which scraped her love channel raw over and over before abating. As he
let her sip from the jug, the face of her friend flashed in her mind, only to
be obliterated by a wave of pain when he poured salt water over her.
While Zhorun watched intently, he changed her restraints, cuffing her elbows
and wrists together behind her to a chain from the ceiling, and bending her
left leg back until he could fasten the chains from her nipple hooks to its
ankle cuff. He then pulled her up slightly, forcing her to stand on the ball
of her right foot in a position which wracked unrelenting pain through her
dislocated joints and tugged on her bleeding nipples unmercifully.
When she saw him light a candle, she twisted in her restraints, crying as the
waist band bit her flesh again, dreading the searing touch which inevitably
rubbed her smarting skin as he let the flame lick the undersides of her breast
or the clitoris between the spread labia while she screamed, buckled and
twisted herself into frenzies of wracking pain from her joints or bloodily
ripped the hooks through her nipple flesh another fraction of an inch.
He used his hands to scrape her broiled skin with the sharkskin, and then
rake it with the studs or sear it with the candle, always moving from tender
spot to tender spot, watching her howl in demented pain as her nipple was
slowly peeled by the sharkskin or her clitoris twitched above the flame.
In spite of the uninterrupted torment, she saw in desperation that his member
was hardening again. As a confirmation, he put away the candle and changed her
restraints, pulling her arms up behind her and cuffing her ankles wide open to
chains from the ceiling, adjusted so that her belly was just an inch above the
floor. Laughing, he slid stinging tree branches under her belly and breasts,
and hammered a wedge soaked in hot pepper oil in her ass hole while her hoarse
screams echoed pitifully under the vaults of the chamber.
Only after savoring her convulsions for a while did he grab her pubic hair and
lift her vagina up to violate it again, drooling as his swollen cock raked the
studs on the burns left by the candle. Her voice rose in harsh screams as he
twisted her hips left and right around his rigid member, causing her front to
rub on the stinging leaves and renewing the agony in her joints.
As pain coursed through her violated body, her mind reeled behind clenched
eyes under the assault. Whenever a thrust raked the studs inside her bleeding
love channel or against the scorched labia, Lyral's screaming face flashed in
her mind and she was no longer sure whose screams echoed in the room, at least
in the instant before her suspended body swung and her nipples burned from the
caress of the stinging tree leaves. As she convulsed in mad agony, new blazes
of pain wracked her dislocated joints and her eyes sought her friend, wishing
that the young warm body could again support her weight and heal them.
So lost was her mind that she almost failed to notice that her tormentor had
momentarily expended his lust, although she kept screaming from the brush of
the leaves and the pitiful convulsions which wracked her rectum under the
relentless burn of the oiled wedge. She was given the jug again, and cold salt
water immediately thereafter, then he moved to her front, jerked her head up
to push his manhood down her reluctant throat and then lowered her loins so
that the leaves started burning the broiled flesh, seeking in her eyes the
glimpses of humiliation, rage and despair that would rekindle his arousal as
much as the involuntary licking from her tongue's relentless screaming.
Once her screams started waning, he rolled her on a side and cuffed her wrists
to a ring in the floor and her ankles to another two, a couple feet apart,
then lowered from the ceiling a contraption of steel bars from which he ran
hooks through her breasts and belly. Her intermittent gasps turned to
unbridled screaming once he pulled the contraption up, forcing her to swing
from the hooks with most of her weight on her bent arms and legs wracking her
dislocated joints to new depths of mad agony.
Only when every movement caused a shriek of raw pain did he push tiny hooks
through her nipples, labia and clitoris, keeping the fine chains leading to
the steel bars short so that each movement ripped them through the flesh a wee
bit more, forcing her to swing herself on her teetering joints. Her convulsed
jerks of mad pain resulted in harrowing fits of screaming torment which turned
to desperate gurgles as he penetrated her throat again, thrusting rhythmically
to cause her to pleasure his manhood with her desperate howls of agony.
As his member hardened in her mouth, she started choking spasmodically and he
pulled out, moving between her legs and adjusting the chains so that her loins
were pulled up, lifting her feet and hands above the floor, except for her
fingers, which tried spasmodically to relieve the pull of the hooks ripping
through her flesh. Her now unrestrained screams burst to new heights once he
violated her again, pulling with both hands the cords of a number of hooks
purposely left in her crotch without fastening them to the bars above.
She clenched her eyes in a sudden burst of rage at the thought of her violator
savoring the agony in them as his hands pulled the hooks to splay her bleeding
love channel before his ravaging member, an instant before unthinkable pain
swept through her. The tiny hooks had been pushed just under the skin and then
bent back and slid under the skin again, tiny enough to place four along the
distended sides of her bleeding clitoris and dozens along the rim of her
vagina, but fueling a wave of pain far beyond their size as they ripped
through broiled flesh while his member tore the cuts open some more.
As his drug-induced frenzy raked the studs on the harness around his swollen
manhood inside her bleeding love channel, she heard among her own screams the
sickly noise of hooks coming free after tearing through skin and flesh as
white hot blasts of pain surged from her breasts, labia and then clitoris,
causing her to howl her helpless despair and swing under his relentless
assault, wracking the torments of hell on her dislocated joints while cramps
shot through her rectum from the burning wooden intruder.
Still wearing a mask of deranged lust, once he had spent his arousal on her
twitching and bleeding body he circled her, reached for her mouth and pushed
his member between her lips again, while she cried bitterly in despair as her
debasement was being prolonged beyond all boundaries of cruelty. Her harsh
gasps turned into gurgling screams when he started dripping molten beeswax on
the bleeding gashes torn by the hooks, forcing her to jerk spasmodically under
the dripping fluid and tear further wounds in her flesh, while her tongue
screamed her torment onto his spent manhood.
Since each hook getting free caused her weight to spread among the remaining
hooks, her agonies increased steadily until the last remaining hooks tore
through her writhing flesh more or less together, dropping her on the floor in
a protracted gurgling scream while she buckled under the relentless stream of
molten wax. In spite of the insane lust distorting his face, he was still able
to assess her conditions and opt for pouring a healing potion down her throat.
She called softly for her friend between wracking pangs of hopeless torment,
because the potion had effects not unlike the healing delivered from Lyral's
own power, although on a lesser scale. Her worst wounds receded, especially
the bleeding gashes in her insides and those ripped by the hooks. As her agony
receded, she thought she saw Lyral's face ... but then a cruel smile cracked
the swarthy visage and she screamed in agony as twin hooks ripped through her
clitoris, lifting her off the floor before letting her fall down again.
He turned her on her back and twisted her arms up behind her until her screams
rose above the creaking noise from her tormented shoulders, then put a
wedge-shaped steel bar behind her elbows and twisted her legs, pulling them
out of her hip sockets until he managed to cuff them to the ends of the bent
bar while she trembled and shrieked from the pain in her joints.
He slowly added hooks on her clitoris, folds and labia, always pushing them in
and then bending them back with pliers so that they pierced the skin twice,
and then threaded a cord around the rim of her vagina, pulling it closed while
she screamed in uninterrupted pain. Her voice rose to a howl of hellish agony
when he tugged on the hooks, slowly ripping her vagina open enough to violate
it again while blood squirted from the gashes.
Her clenched eyes tried between tears to catch a glimpse of her friend's face,
but only saw his hand smear her insides with white powder before her violation
resumed without the lubrication offered by her blood and the agony from her
womb coursed through her wracked body in waves of searing hot pain which did
not stop until his drug induced lust waned.
The heat of red hot iron replaced his member as he seared her wounds, keeping
her buckling spasmodically and wracking her joints into helpless agony. The
iron scorched her skin and was repeatedly pushed inside her womb, but also
used to singe her clitoris as it was being distended by pulling on the hooks,
until his arousal returned and he could violate her again, in a frenzy which
wracked her into agonies which robbed her last shreds of hope.
Just as she hoped that he was done and would let her die, he pulled out,
poured cold salt water on her twitching form, let her sip from the jug and
then cut into the rims of her vagina with the toothed blade, lacerating the
scorched flesh and shredding her clitoris while distending it with the hooks,
and then violating her again while her heart sank in a sea of anguished
despair as each frenzied thrust tore the cuts wider and wider.
He paused her debasement, and she hoped for a moment it was over, but only to
drag folded sharkskin through the cuts, causing her to buckle spasmodically
in screeching torment before resuming her violation with renewed fury, pulling
on the hooks with unrestrained cruelty and slowly ripping one of the cuts
wider until it split her vulva to the point that the studs on the harness
around his member started raking her clitoris.
She screamed and howled in unrelenting torment for an amount of time which she
lost track of, sinking under waves of white hot pain which wracked her body
and burst from her mouth in pitiful screeches of helpless woe, a torn bundle
of suffering flesh and sinew now beyond resolve, rage and humiliation, but
whenever she was about to shout her defeat, a "NOOO" surged from inside her,
spoken in Lyral's anguished voice, and finally she realized that she was
hanging in twitching agony, her wheezing screams still echoing under the
vaults of the torture chamber, but her tormentor was no longer shredding the
rim of her vagina by tugging the cord around his thrusting member.
The Easterner lowered her on the floor, and she caught a glimpse of Grod
dragging the Southerner's limp body away. When the healing of a potion she was
given soothed her agonies, she realized that she had managed to hold on again,
for her friends, and for a moment thought that she would find the strength to
hold on whatever further torment they would come up with.
Silently, the Easterner cuffed her wrists behind her neck over the wedge
shaped cross bar of a wooden post and cranked up a spiked wooden seat, forcing
her to stand on the balls of her feet to avoid the spikes. He then pushed a
wooden wedge through a hole in the seat, forcing it up her rectum while she
cried as the hot pepper oil burned her insides again.
Her eyes widened as she saw another, larger wedge, but he pulled up her ankles
and fastened them to the iron rings around her thighs, causing her weight to
rest on the spikes until she managed to pause her screaming and pull herself
up by her arms in spite of the pain in her joints. At this point, when she was
arched and her muscles taut, did he drive the wedge up between her labia,
ignoring her pitiful howl as she raked the spikes across her buttocks in pain.
Her breasts were subsequently encased in a spiked vise, which he tightened as
she screamed herself hoarse until blood flowed in rivulets from her bulging
breasts, and finally he fastened a board under the wedges in her orifices so
that when she tired of arching, her own weight would drive them deeper inside,
denying her the support necessary to keep her buttocks off the spikes.
He let her like this, watching her tire and scream when the wedges and spikes
caused her to jerk in spasmodic pain, then grabbed a fold of her thigh flesh
and slowly cut through it with a thin steel blade. She arched in raw agony as
the blade cut just under the skin, avoiding blood vessels and slowly opening a
shallow wound which bled slowly as fits of screaming shook her while the blade
progressed mercilessly.
When he finally stopped dragging the blade, she barely had the time to take a
deep breath before another howl shook her as he dragged a feather inside the
wound, causing her to writhe spasmodically as the burning powder the feather
had been rubbed in seeped in the wound. A second feather followed, dipped in a
liquid which smelled like bleach and caused her to buckle spasmodically on the
spikes while wheezing shrieks wracked her heaving chest.
She shriveled on the spikes in hellish torment as he dragged feathers in
the open wound over and over, dipping them in different substances, each
bringing new depths of agony into her flesh and all causing her to wreak havoc
on her joints, which the Southerner had pulled beyond dislocation and the
healing potion had not restored fully. After unbelievable agonies, he closed
iron clips around the edges of the wound using pliers and then proceeded to
cut another in her other thigh, resuming her torment with a new set of
feathers while her wheezing cries surged to new peaks of howling anguish.
Slowly and deliberately, he protracted her agony by cutting shallow gashes in
expertly chosen folds of her flesh and then dragging feathers in the open
wounds, deviously dipping them in substances intended to cause pain or just
keep the pain from subsiding. After her legs, thighs and soles, he cut about a
dozen gashes in her belly and chest, one after the other, timing the use of
the feathers with her breathing so that the cuts under her ribcage burst in
agony whenever she fought for air after a long, protracted scream.
As rivulets of blood flowed over her twitching body, both from the clipped
wounds and from those being actively tormented, she felt like sliding under
a blanket, as if the pain was subsiding, and barely noticed that she was
being freed from her restraints. Her mouth drank the healing potion almost
without thinking, and her mind cleared while pain made itself felt again,
returning her to a world of misery as he cuffed her wrists to her ankles,
spread her legs wide and replaced the wedge in her vagina with a large hook,
suspending her from her wounded womb as her feet barely touched the floor.
The cries from the pain in her crotch surged in howls of unabated agony once
he grabbed a fold of her left breast and sliced through it, tracing another
shallow wound which he promptly savaged with a feather dipped in spider venom
which burned inside the wound and caused a bloody foam to bubble at the edges
just as froth trickled from the corner of her mouth as it vented her helpless
woe in trembling howls tinged with pitiful despair.
The cuts in her breasts accumulated, each one dragging her screaming down the
stairs of the hell she had found in this room as the firm flesh was slashed
and ravaged to new peaks of agony. Most cuts followed the curve of her breasts
and were not clipped, counting on her reclined position to limit her blood
loss while the feathers moved from one to another while she buckled on the
hook impaling herself amidst screams of harrowing woe.
A pair of pliers was used to distend the breast by the nipple, dragging the
feather through the distended flesh to increase the torment, especially when
using burning powder or salt. Her clenched eyes darted in anguish, attempting
to guess at what substance was about to rake its agonies through a bleeding
gash, as if this made any difference when the feather entered the wound and
was slowly dragged back and forth while her voice rose in howling pain.
He kept her screaming and twitching on the hook for as long as possible,
dousing her frequently with cold, salt water and bringing the jug to her lips
while she sputtered in screaming agony, clipping the bleeding gashes in her
breasts while dragging the feathers through fresh ones to keep the flames of
her agony fanned, until her howls waned to pitiful wheezes. She drank the
healing potion between tears, sobbing bitterly at the thought of more agonies
to come as her wounds receded, calling her friend under her breath.
Her brief respite was shattered with a gut-wrenching howl as he cut into her
left nipple, peeling a layer with a diagonal cut which exposed it to the
burning caress of a feather dipped in some acid, too mild to affect the
feather but still strong enough to bring unparalleled fire into her nipple and
fanning it through her shuddering chest until it burst from her throat in fits
of howling torment. As more cuts followed, in spite of her spasmodic attempts
to buckle her nipples away, her eyes almost glazed over as the pain became
more and more unbearable and yet impossible to escape.
Her mouth started gasping between screams as the blood from her nipples
reached it, often mixed with foul tastes of venom or acid which had wrought
hellish pain on her poor feminine flesh just moments before. She thought of
Lyral's face just as the blade cut her nipple flesh again, sending her mind
reeling from the agony and wondering how many times was it possible to cut
such a small piece of flesh before nothing remained. Her own subsequent howl,
however, confirmed that enough remained to suffer as a feather dipped in some
burning powder was dragged through her bleeding nipple, wreaking such pain
on the small piece of feminine flesh she found herself wishing he would just
chop them off rather than protracting her agonies thus.
In the end, although much later than she had wished, he actually reached the
point where no more cuts could be inflicted on her nipples, and repeated
splashing with cold, salt water resulted in little or no reaction, so he let
her down and poured the contents of the jug down her throat. While her mind
cleared, he encased her breasts in a spiked vise and bent her legs towards her
head, forcing the inside of the knee under the outstretched arms of the vise
before twisting her arms up behind her, wrenching a new scream of pain as her
weight rested on the wedge in her rectum and her legs pulled the vise
outwards, squeezing her bulging breasts into bleeding agony.
When she realized that her position proffered her crotch to the same treatment
inflicted on her breasts and nipples, she arched in such terror that her chains
rattled and blood squirted from the spikes raking her constricted breasts. The
thought of having her femininity subjected again to merciless torture gripped
her mind and rattled her exhausted body, and the resulting scream turned into
a demented howl as her fears materialized in the blade slicing across her
labia, reopening one of the gashes left by the hooks, and in the feather
immediately searing it with barbs dipped in venom.
With a swiftness which was a harrowing change from his usual procedure, he
practiced dozens of small cuts across her labia, folds and clitoris, rubbing
the feather repeatedly in each as the venom caused her to howl in unbridled
agony and her blood flowed lazily as she jerked in hellish torment, causing
the spikes to rake her wounded breasts mercilessly while the pain from her
joints shot through her in waves which never abated.
After a while, he returned to long, drawn-out cuts across folds of flesh
pinched between his fingers or pliers, followed by rubbing with feathers
dipped in bleach, vinegar or one of many varieties of venom which caused her
to twitch and buckle spasmodically as her pain surged from her mouth in mad
fits of protracted torment. Her eyes no longer sought her friend, her voice
no longer attempted to call her between screams, she only knew pain.
As her agony was slowly protracted, the swelling caused by the bee venom
caused her labia and clitoris to deform, twisting the hooks still in place
into wreaking further agonies through her bleeding wounds, distending her skin
and flesh before the merciless lacerations of the blade, and tugging on open
wounds while they twitched under the burning caress of a feather dipped in
heavily salted water. Her voice was hoarse and her visage a deformed mask of
helpless agony, but he kept up the torment splashing cold, salt water and
bringing the jug to her lips, without further recourse to potions.
She sputtered her own blood from the wounds cut in her breasts by the spiked
vise which her convulsed jerks rattled agonizingly, screaming in gut-wrenching
frenzies of mad torment as the blade slowly sliced along her swollen labia or
peeled a clitoris horribly distended by pulling on the accursed hooks while
foam frothed at her mouth between a howl and the next. Her joints teetered on
the verge of being pulled out of seat by her spasmodic jerks as a feather
dipped in burning powder was repeatedly dragged inside the cuts along the rim
of her vagina or along the lacerated edge of her swollen labia.
Pain washed over her in waves as he started sawing through the gashes in her
nipples with a feather tipped in some caustic powder, which burned on contact
and abraded flesh even under the delicate rubbing of the feather, causing her
voice to achieve peaks of demented screaming while she twitched spasmodically
trying in vain to escape the agony in her nipples.
Lost in unbearable pain, she fought to remember her friend's smile, but the
image of Lyral's face turned into a mask of bloody agony just as he sawed
through the gashes in her clitoris with a feather dipped in caustic powder,
causing her legs to twitch spasmodically out of their sockets while blood
spurted from her love bud which was starting to give as the hooks ripped
through its distended length and the caustic slowly abraded it. The agony of
the torture she most feared and hated blasted through her body, surging in
shrieks of unparalleled woe from her torn mouth.
He protracted her unbelievable agony, using cold, salt water to revive her,
the laced syrup to renew her energies, and clamps to keep the hooks from
shredding her femininity too quickly, continuing the slow abrasion of her
bleeding raw flesh while frenzies of demented screaming punctuated her descent
into yet deeper hells until so little remained that one after the other the
hooks ripped through the last tatters of her clitoris.
He kept her screaming by slowly abrading the tatters of the quartered piece of
feminine flesh, until her waning screams and pitiful twitching proved that she
was at least temporarily beyond pain. The cuts in her nipples alone numbered
in the dozens, and her breasts and crotch were awash in blood, and no amount
of treatment would restore her shredded femininity.
When the soothing warmth of healing suffused her body, the thought of Lyral
bubbled through the depths of her anguish, but the callous touch of hands
folding her legs to cuff her ankles to the bands constricting her thighs and
then bringing up her arms between her legs to cuff the wrists to the ankles
washed the memory of her friend's face away. As Grod pushed a thick, studded
hook down her vagina, using it to lift her loins off the floor and let her
rest just on her shoulders, she gasped in abject terror at the sight of the
implements of her forthcoming ordeal.
She had thought that Grod would bend or break her bones, stretch or strain
her muscles, then fear of the hot irons had grown inside her as she had caught
the unmistakable scent, but now in spite of her neck collar fastened to rings
in the floor she could see that it was due to a pair of metallic pears being
heated on a coal bed. Tears streaked her face and bitter sobs wracked her
chest as she realized that her femininity would be tormented again, scorched
raw and ripped open in spite of the atrocious tortures already inflicted on
the tender feminine parts that had become the crucible of her agonies.
As he inserted something in her rectum, she barely had time to realize it was
a kind of wooden wedge before the hacked and dented surface raked her bowels.
The horror of past violations returned to her mind just as she screamed in
sudden pain, compounded by the agony from many small cuts from what she would
later recognize as a spiked metal ring, wrought around the wedge.
When her tormentor fetched the small pear, dread mounted in her at the thought
of where he meant to push it, since both her orifices were occupied, and he
let her shudder for a while before pushing the red hot point into the rear end
of the wedge, splitting its four sections apart and allowing four red hot
spikes to descend in the resulting creases and scrape her bowels while she
arched desperately on the hook, twitching and buckling in desperate anguish.
Her pain reached a new peak when the pear forced its way through the spiked
ring, distending it at the expense of her bleeding innards after the hooks
caught against it, requiring her tormentor to twist and push the pear back and
forth to disengage them, rattling her in frenzies of screaming agony.
The wood in her bowels was being charred by the heat, causing her innards to
be slowly singed, causing slivers and splinters to wreak untold agonies to her
insides at the slightest twitch, twitches which he made sure she went through
plenty of. He slowly cranked the pear open causing her to howl in unbridled
torment as the hot spikes sank in the flesh and the spiked ring was slowly
guided back, tracing bleeding gouges in her singed insides.
He continued the torture of her sphincter, folding the pear to extract it and
heat it again before resuming the torment by cranking it slightly wider, and
unlike her previous ordeal with the pear felt no compunction in tearing her
orifice open, using a thin red hot blade to sear the lacerations while her
howls wracked her body in unparalleled frenzies of mad agony.
When he freed her of her restraints, she shook in horrible pain and the thick
wedge he pushed in her bleeding ass maybe reduced her blood loss but did
little to soothe her anguishes, especially since, as she realized while he
twisted her arms behind her back, it was coated with something whose sting was
mounting relentlessly and she was forced to sit on it. He doused her with cold
water, let her sip at length from the jug and pushed a large four section
wedge in her mauled vagina, and followed it with a red hot pear of gruesome
size which she tried in mad panic to avoid by buckling her hips, the agony by
the wedge in her rectum notwithstanding.
In spite of her convulsed jerks as the heat in her womb charred the wooden
sections of the wedge and even set them ablaze temporarily, he managed to
cuff her ankles together and fasten them to the ring of the pear. While she
still shook from pain, he grabbed her ankles and pulled them, distending her
arms behind her back and bringing her ass, legs and feet above the coal bed
where the pears had been heated. As he fastened her ankles to a chain, she
found herself with her calves and especially soles exposed to the heat of the
coals, which also caused the pear to heat, albeit slowly.
Almost immediately, her legs started twitching and snapping in the effort to
spare her tender soles, but this caused her strong legs to pull on the pear,
raking its red hot hooks against the singed walls of her love channel and
pulling the ring back towards the rim of her vagina while its spikes traced
bloody gashes in the martyred flesh. As the devious torture forced her to
jerk and buckle spasmodically, dozens of splinters and slivers pierced her
singed insides, often catching fire shortly thereafter.
To protract her agonies, he started tightening and releasing her iron collar,
causing her to gasp for air and her vagina to reflexively clutch the
instrument of her torment, sending more slivers through the flesh which was
now being scorched raw by the protracted exposure to the heat.
"I know a better way," chimed a voice she refused to acknowledge.
A swarthy hand caught her blonde mane and with a nod in Grod's direction, sort
of a mocking "May I ?", the Southerner pushed his member into her screaming
throat, fucking it violently and achieving an effect not unlike the collar as
she choked on his member while her screams gurgled in unspeakable torment and
pleasured his member and the insatiable lust induced by the drugs.
With savage abandon, the Southerner kept throat fucking her even after his
semen filled her mouth, once, twice, many times, in a debasement which would
have shocked her to the very roots of her soul in other circumstances but was
next to nothing before the unceasing scorching and tearing of her vagina.
Her nightmare of pain and debasement lasted for a time she lost track of,
until she caught herself gulping avidly a healing potion, trembling as her
burns and wounds receded before sputtering in horrified disgust once she
realized she had also been drinking the semen invading her mouth.
Her tormentor cuffed her ankles together and fastened them to a steel bar,
then bent her legs at the knee and forced her to arch until he could bend her
elbows around the bar, nudge her wrists between her calves and her arched back
and cuff them together in spite of her screams at the torment this position
wrought on her dislocated joints. But the horror returned on her face when he
inserted the four-section wedge and the pear in her rectum again, cranking it
open before using its end ring to pull her off the floor while she buckled
desperately in harrowing torment.
Although the pear was no longer red hot, its spikes still gouged her rectum
and its arms still cracked the wedge sections, driving splinters in the flesh
scorched raw by the preceding exposure to searing heat. Besides, as her harsh
cries soon testified, this wedge had been rubbed in sand and caustic power and
was abrading her bleeding bowels mercilessly.
In spite of her agonies, she tried to buckle away when he inserted a similar,
albeit larger, wedge in her vagina, and when he brought up the red hot pear
meant to follow it, her convulsed jerks wracked her into inflicting further
pain on herself as her almost pleading shrieks echoed in the torture chamber.
Her thighs twitched and tensed as the hot metal charred the wood and wracked
its agonies on her already singed womb while she howled in abysmal pain as he
cranked the device open, stretching her vagina and ripping the cuts along its
rim wider and wider. This pear had ridges, red hot ridges which seared the rim
and dug new blistered cuts where they failed to find an existing one, and he
slowly cranked it so wide that the wooden section cracked, driving splinters
into her innards which soon caught fire, causing her to arch in howling pain
as the small flames licked her insides.
Just as Grod twisted the device inside her, causing her to buckle her hips in
the desperate attempt to spare her insides some of the scraping and of the
splinters, the Southerner thrust his member down her throat again, causing her
to gag and clutch the instrument of her agony spasmodically as her vaginal
muscles contracted while she gasped for air. Choking on her own screams, she
howled in mad agony as her violated mouth was almost dislocated by his thrusts
and the pear ripped her vagina open while scorching it raw.
Even the short pauses of respite, when Grod heated the pear again and cold
water was poured over her, were but a nightmare of abraded flesh and searing
pain from her dislocated joints, a haze of bloody agony where she caught
passing glimpses of Lyral's smiling face only to have them blasted into
searing hot waves of torment when the pear was again inserted and cranked open
rekindling her agonies into fits of howling woe.
Gurgling screams and unbridled howling alternated under the vaults of the
torture chamber as the two torturers protracted the torment of the young
blonde woman while Zhorun watched silently, until the bleeding from the cuts
in her vagina and her insides became so severe that another potion was poured
down her throat while under her breath she called her friend's name.
True to self, Grod changed her restraints to increase the torment of her bones
and muscles, bending her legs back until he could nudge the leg under the
corresponding elbow and cuff the ankles behind her arched back, while pulling
her arms up between her knees and suspending her by chains fastened to her
wrist cuffs, chains he immediately started pulling apart causing her thighs to
spread and twist out of their sockets while she howled in unspeakable torment.
As wedge and pear were thrust into her vagina again, a new dimension of pain
was wrought upon her as the pulling on the pear stretched her dislocated
thighs, tearing the ligaments and sending white hot blasts of pain through her
convulsing body, thus wracking it into harrowing agonies as it ground its
scorched, raw innards against the splinters and spikes invading it. At the
same time, her body was swung against a reclined grid of blazing coals and
thick iron spikes, exposing her to the searing heat and to the merciless cuts
of the spikes across singed flesh.
Her exposed breasts turned slowly red and then crimson as the heat peeled them
raw, while the repeated cuts from the spikes wracked her chest as she rattled
her restraints in screams of harrowing torment. Fire had returned to fan her
agonies into nightmares of searing torment, and Lyral's touch was nowhere to
deliver her nipples after they curled in the heat or soothe her flesh as a
spike raked a oozing blister open while she screamed her lungs out in anguish.
It took him a number of perpetrations of this cruel procedure before he
managed to pull her clitoris onto one of the spikes protruding from the grid,
wrenching from her sore throat a howl where abysmal pain mixed with utter
despair as she found her deepest fears confirmed again. He prolonged her
torment, keeping her writhing there while the heat rose to blister her flesh
and the pear ripped the lacerations in her vagina a bit wider, stretching them
while the tendons in her neck strained from protracted howls of raw agony.
As the pear was cranked wider, its red hot ridges bulged under her flesh,
visibly distending the scorched tract between the tattered rim of the vagina
and the clitoris, while the spikes not only punctured her from the inside but
even ripped bleeding gashes through her belly. Blood started coursing in
rivulets along her convulsing body, while her screams turned hoarse and foam
dripped from her mouth as abject pain wracked her chest. Not visible, but ever
present in her screams, were the constant prodding of her cervix by the red
hot tip of the pear and the bloody abrasion of her rectum by the other pear.
"Don't stop, Grod," said Zhorun's voice, almost inaudible among the horrid
screams wracking Kayleen's convulsing body as the pear was slowly rupturing
the largest of the cuts inflicted on her vagina, tearing it slowly open as it
ripped its way up to her urethra. In spite of his prompt searing of the
profusely bleeding edges by hot iron, he could only keep this torment up for
a few minutes. Her howls of unbridled anguish echoed under the vaults of the
torture chamber for a time which looked endless to her, but then the soothing
of another potion diffused through her body while her screams broke in fits of
wheezing gasps as the healing remedied her worst wounds.
"Our esteemed guest from the South will now continue," the wizard announced.
A gasping sob shook Kayleen's pain-wracked body at she realized that her
torment would continue unabated, her mind worn by the torments enough to
perceive as unfair the additional session. The Southerner, still visibly
under the effect of the drugs, had been preparing this, as the tray of clear
jugs he fetched demonstrated. She tried not to look inside the jugs where a
number of largish, legged horrors twitched and turned.
He pulled out from one of the jugs a beetle, over two inches In size and with
long, serrated jaws which clacked ominously as the irritated insect wriggled
in the pinch of tweezers he wielded with much diminished adeptness because of
the drugs. Her subsequent scream as the jaws bit her left breast, however,
proved that he had retained enough to let his cruelty run its full course.
While the pears still invaded her orifices, he repeatedly brought the beetle
to bite the flesh of her exposed breasts, pausing between each bite to let
her jerk as the agony coursed through her body and rekindled the pain in her
joints and the merciless ripping of her orifices, temporarily alleviated by
the potion but bound to slowly wreak them to the same peaks of agony again.
Each bite left a nasty, lacerated wound where a bit of flesh was ripped off by
the strong serrated jaws while she arched in howling torment and then bled
profusely while howling in gasping fits of searing pain until he used pliers
to tighten clips around the bleeding gash.
He removed the pears and lowered her on the floor, on her back, and fastened
her ankles to chains in order to spread them wide, adjusting the chains so
that her feet hung about a foot high. He then circled her and pulled her arms,
twisting them in their sockets while she screamed madly and pulling them back
until he could fasten them also to a chain, which he pulled until her body was
lifted up while she convulsed in mad agony from the pain in her joints.
He then knelt between her legs and, just as her screams paused while dread
crept upon her as she focused on what he was doing, penetrated her violently,
pushing his member in her vagina with the obvious intent to rip the cuts just
healed open again. He kept thrusting into her with drooling rage while she
shook like a rag doll, screaming madly as he pulled savagely her wounded labia
after having ripped what little remained of her pubic hair.
He paused briefly to smear her innards with the white powder he used to offset
any lubrication bleeding may offer, then resumed her violation while her cries
rose harsher and harsher as her womb was repeatedly rasped dry. As he finally
came inside her, she was in such agony that she barely noticed.
Her voice barely had the time to recover in a series of low moans that her
chest heaved in a scream as another beetle sunk its serrated jaws under her
left sole, causing her to twitch and buckle in jarring pain. More bites
followed, harsh bites leaving shallow bleeding wounds which wrenched pitched
screams from her sore throat while her position mercilessly ground her torn
joints into swelling and straining torment.
After summarily clipping the wounds in her soles, he fetched a new beetle and
started dragging it along her legs, letting the irritated insect sink the
serrated jaws on her flesh and rip with surprising strength in spite of her
convulsed twitching and raucous howls of bitter torment. She had hoped that
the drugs had abated his lust, but when he squeezed the insect so that it tore
a bit of flesh she realized that his cruelty had no need of drugs.
He lowered her with her back on the floor, examining her ripped nails which
the applications of healing potion had not restored and then dragged her to a
iron trestle, forcing her to straddle it with her legs spread awkwardly, her
thighs splayed and her ass thrust up. He then trapped her toes and thumbs in
spiked iron vises, which he started tightening while she cried in mounting
pain until her voice exploded in a desperate howl when the thumbs were
cracked, followed by another when the same occurred to her toes.
He shifted her position so that the dull point of a trestle slid into her
vagina, and then cranked the device so that it pushed deeper and deeper into
her, causing her to raise her loins as the point was at the wrong angle to
penetrate her love channel, but stretching her legs between the dislocated hip
joints and the crushed toes and causing her voice to rise in recurring howls
of abject torment. When the jaws of a beetle closed on the flesh of her left
ass cheek, the jerk caused by the harsh pain turned into a fit of nightmarish
agonies as her joints were brutally shaken into abysmal pain by the strong
muscles of her own supple legs, just as her scream at the ripping wound turned
into a frenzy of bitter howls from the agonies in her joints.
Out of her mind with pain, she shook at the thought of the vast expanse of her
own white flesh which stood before the serrated jaws of the insect he wielded
with ability partially impaired by the drugs but with unbridled cruelty. Pray
was something she had been doing more often during her recent ordeals than in
any other moment of her life, but pray she did in bits and pieces between the
desperate howls of raw pain caused by the bites and the incessant agony of her
joints as her tormentor let beetle after beetle loose on her twitching flesh,
favoring her firm buttocks and the tenderness of the thigh.
In a haze of unrelenting pain from the protracted torment, she heard her
tormentor wonder aloud whether he should take her in her ass or in her mouth,
and somehow the dread at her impending violation was mitigated by the thought
that her vagina would be spared the hellish agonies he favored over simple
rape. The pain in her bowels told her of his choice, and although it mounted
while he thrust into her, waxing and waning as his thrusts rattled her joints,
she somehow found a measure of relief in the abject debasement.
After he pulled out, spent, her relief turned into abject horror when she felt
something prod her distended sphincter and was blown away by a wave of raw
agony when the insect ripped a wound in her sphincter, from a cut which had
been partially healed and then reopened during her violation. She buckled and
shuddered in her restraints, wracking untold pain on her swollen joints, but
could do nothing to prevent her tormentor from unleashing the beetle on her
distended bowels and letting it rip shallow, bleeding wounds inside.
The jug was brought to her mouth, allowing her a brief instant of respite as
she sipped avidly, then unquenchable agonies burst from her bowels again as
the insect ripped morsels of flesh from her bleeding innards. He proceeded
with cruel patience, nudging the jaws against her flesh to let her twitch in
terror before letting the beetle actually deliver its bite, and treating the
worst wounds to prevent excessive blood loss. But each morsel ripped from the
scorched innards came loose only after interminable seconds of excruciating
tearing, which sent blazes of white hot pain through her whole body, causing
her muscles to jerk spasmodically and wreak further agonies onto her joints.
She realized that he had freed her from the trestle only when she found
herself on the cold stone floor, twitching and weeping, wracked by spasms and
moaning hoarsely while he folded her legs, cuffing each ankle to the elbow and
the wrist to the iron band under the knee. As she lay on her back, her thighs
spread and shuddering between cries, he inspected her breasts. Between the
agonies wrought on her, the serrated iron bands tightened around the bases of
her breasts had been almost forgotten, and this spoke volumes of what she had
been through, because the unyielding iron constricted them mercilessly, chafed
the tender skin and caused them to bulge, ripe for the abuses which had not
failed to follow. Now, he used them to lift her off the floor, watching her
cringe and then scream as her breasts bore her full weight.
As if one of the horrid critters was not enough, he fetched two beetles, one
per hand, and let them sink the serrated jaws onto the soft flesh of her belly
while she arched in desperate pain, twitching her thighs invitingly as agony
coursed through her shuddering body. The tense muscles of her thighs were next
in his course of torment, and he bid his time while tugging the insects to
make sure they tore and ripped furiously while she howled in mad anguish.
He played with her terror, rubbing the jaws against her nipples or clitoris
before letting them sink somewhere else, edging closer and closer to the soft
attributes of femininity whose torment, as had been abundantly clear for days,
she feared above everything else. So the jaws dragged around the trembling
areolas of her bristles closed on the layer of flesh above a rib, while those
tracing the rim of her vagina sunk in the lower belly between the remnants of
her pubic hair, causing her protracted wails of abject terror to end in harsh
gasps of searing pain and fits of screaming anguish as the jaws tore and
ripped back and forth before drawing a morsel of bleeding flesh.
She shook in pain as cold, salt water was poured on her, and then jerked in
convulsed agony when he tired of his game and started ripping bleeding wounds
in her breasts and labia, watching her arch in sustained fits of howling agony
with enough force to wreak her hip and shoulder joints out of their sockets,
her muscles straining and trembling as she tried to evade the ripping torment
which repeatedly ripped her flesh. Her mind raced in abject terror at the
sight of the twitching jaws, alternating bits of mindless prayer to hoarse
invocations of her friend's healing touch.
What touched her tormented infinity, instead, was a pair of twitching jaws,
which sank in her love bud and started tearing and ripping while her howls
rose under the vaults of the torture chamber and her convulsed jerks rattled
the chains her breasts hung from. When the other beetle was unleashed on the
rim of her vagina and the inside of her love channel, ripping short threads of
scorched flesh off the innards ravaged by the red hot pear, she lost her last
shreds of resolve, sinking into unparalleled anguish and calling desperately
her friend's name between shrieking howls of deranged agony.
Her tormentor was an experienced executioner and would have noticed that his
victim had been effectively broken, but he was so inebriated by the drugs
that her defeat aroused his lust and he immediately put the beetles back to
violate her in a fit of demented lust, scraping her wounds with drooling
abandon in spite of the profuse bleeding which he did not bother to dry before
as his urge to inflict himself on her proved enough of a source of agony.
With his own hands and nails he started ripping the tatters of her labia,
reopening the cuts which had not been ripped open before and scraping new
bleeding wounds as white hot agonies coursed through her swinging body, always
thrusting mercilessly with his unnaturally erect manhood as if he wanted to
pierce her innards and split her in two, intoxicated by her uninterrupted howl
of unbridled anguish and drinking the wine of her agony directly from her
face, contorted in a mask of abject suffering.
Somehow, this beastly assault on her defeated body stirred something under the
haze of liquid pain which had submerged her soul, holding the pleading which
surged from the depths of her despair from escaping her lips and the terror of
further torment from rolling out a torrent of implorations. When his lust
waned, she had already found some shred of her former resolve, and in spite of
her bitter howls while he held two beetles on her nipples, repeatedly tearing
bits of bleeding flesh from them, she no longer feared. At the peak of her
agonies, when dignity, courage and even hope were being ripped from her by the
merciless tearing of the jaws, she had heard her friend's voice.
"Angels of heaven, make her strong. Uphold her bravery before the agonies she
endures, make me worthy of her bravery. Angels of heaven, make her strong."
Her tormentor protracted her agonies some more, but the drugs he had abused so
heavily were now abandoning him, and his grip started wavering until both
beetles escaped. As he was obviously no longer in the position to continue, he
was led away while Kayleen, although still screaming bitterly in abject pain,
almost smiled at the thought of having defied them all once again.
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