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Chapter 25 - The Mundane and the Magic
Kayleen's cries echoed at intervals in the darkness of the unlit chamber, her
back against the wall and her spread arms, cuffed at the wrists to rings set
just above her head, unable to provide the support which could prevent her
broken bones from teetering. The same applied to her legs, pulled wide in a
savage split with her ankles cuffed to rings at hip height and twisted
outwards because of a wooden wedge pushing her loins forward.
Forcing her weight on her outstretched limbs had displaced her fractures, but
her screams were in no small part due to the stinging tree branches set under
her slit, too low to lean on but just high enough to brush her nether regions.
She could spare her labia their caress by pulling herself up, at the price of
wracking hideous pain throughout her fractured limbs.
She was still shivering violently from the repeated splashes with cold, salt
water, a parting treatment whose inception she had lost track of, although she
remembered that Lyral was there. She had always been wounded enough for the
salt to find plenty of avenue to add its harsh bite to her torment well into
the night, but in the long run the cold and the bitter shivers were the worst.
Her friend hung nearby by her toes, close, yet not enough to provide healing,
moaning softly in the attempt to withstand the torment in her toes in order
to preserve her power. Just after the last torch left, Kayleen had called.
"Lyral ... help me, my arms ..." she had croaked.
"They hung me too far from you, Kayleen," replied Lyral.
"Please ... try, it hurts." cried Kayleen, sobbing when the rattling of the
chain Lyral hung from confirmed the harrowing truth.
Lyral bit her lip, then closed her eyes in resignation. She flexed her legs as
much as she could, and then let herself down, screaming at the top of her
lungs when the jerk savagely gouged the thumbscrews she hung from.
"Lyral, what's up ?" asked Kayleen, not realizing that her friend was trying
to sever her own toes in order to heal her. More rattling and screams.
"Lyral, what are you doing ?" cried Kayleen, her voice still hoarse.
"Don't ... worry, Kayleen. I am going to heal myself after", croaked the young
Priestess, dizzy with pain and surprised at how resilient her toes were - when
she had decided to try, she had thought that they were almost severed already.
"Please stop it, whatever you're doing. I'll need your help, tomorrow" sighed
Kayleen. Lyral gave up, worried at her friend's condition but realizing that
her desperate stunt had little chance to work anyway.
The rest of the night was an uninterrupted nightmare of agony for Kayleen, who
slowly abandoned any attempt to lift her crotch off the stinging leaves, even
as her labia began to swell horribly from the constant rubbing. She tried to
stifle her screams, but Lyral missed none of her bitter gasps and wretched
hisses, sobbing silently after running out of words of comfort.
When heavy footsteps announced morning, Kayleen's relief at the healing she
thought forthcoming almost overcame her dread at what lay ahead. A knot formed
in her stomach, however, when the Southerner cuffed her elbows and wrists
behind her back, and dragged her to where she had been whipped yesterday.
A desperate scream surged from her throat when she was pulled up by the
ankles, because the savage split that had been painful yesterday was now
excruciating for the broken bones of her legs. The Southerner splashed her
with cold water and then started whipping her breasts, buttocks and between
her legs, causing her to writhe and scream in renewed agony.
Such was the pain from her bones that it took her some time to realize how
much the whipping was being protracted this time, while the pain in her
striped breasts and buttocks mounted steadily. When the whip stroked her
swollen labia, a bright flash of white hot torment rattled her whole body and
wrought a scream of animal anguish from her torn mouth.
She continued to writhe and buckle in insane pain, hanging upside down with
her thighs spread for the whip and screaming in agonies whose origin was no
longer discernible in a haze of uninterrupted torment. She was finally let
down, at the hands of the impenetrable Easterner, and dragged to a place where
Lyral lay on the floor in a strict hogtie, the head encased in a wooden box.
The silent torturer pulled her arms up behind her, wrenching a howl of
desperate agony from her mouth as strain wracked the fractured limbs, further
displacing the bones inside the swollen flesh. She offered no resistance when
he guided her right foot into a hole in the box encasing Lyral's head.
When her toes leaned on something wet and mobile, as her ankle cuff was being
fastened to the box, she recognized Lyral's gurgled pleas and realized that
her foot had been forced into her friend's mouth. Her other leg had been bent
and fastened to the right wrist, leaving her suspended by the left arm, her
torso at an angle and Lyral's mouth under her right foot, shifting her weight
from which wrought unspeakable torment through her fractured left arm.
While she shifted her weight back and forth between bitter sobs and occasional
screams, she suddenly felt Lyral's soothing power course through her. Just as
warm tears of gratitude started replacing the bitter tears of woe streaking
her face, a devastating burst of white hot agony surged in her left foot. Her
tormentor was drilling a corkscrew in the tender sole, twisting it slowly by
its T-shaped handle while holding her curling toes with his other hand.
The excruciating pain continued unabated while she rattled her chains and
shook in a fit of howling woe, no longer able to spare her friend who saw her
precarious concentration shattered. Once the corkscrew stopped, she hung there
trembling in wretched pain, but as her screams diminished her tormentor
started twisting the corkscrew back, slowly pulling it out and rekindling her
screams of unbridled agony as blood squirted from the lacerated flesh.
Still wracked by pangs of throbbing agony, Kayleen could not believe her own
body when the soothing warmth of Lyral's power suffused her again. She wished
desperately that her tormentor would not notice, but she saw his gaze inspect
her teary eyes and his hands reach for her right breast. Just as she closed
her eyes, too late, the corkscrew drilled its way in the firm flesh of her
generous mammary, wracking her into a jerk of howling agony.
She continued jerking and buckling in hideous pain, with the blood squirting
from the wound while her tormentor grasped her flesh and twisted the corkscrew
slowly deeper and deeper, wrenching new howls of wretched torment each turn.
When the bloody tip broke through the other side, he just kept twisting while
she vented her anguish from hitherto unexplored depths of hellish agony.
The soothing from Lyral's attempts at healing her returned many times, always
followed by bursts of white hot torment as the corkscrew was twisted back and
forth through her quivering flesh. After drilling twice more through her poor
breasts, her thighs and legs were slowly drilled through in spite of her mad
jerks of deranged torment. The screw was never pushed deep in the flesh,
trashing through stiff muscle until the bloody tip emerged in a squirt of
blood while her mouth almost dislocated from the howls wracking her chest.
Moving behind her, he started drilling up from the back of the thigh until the
tip emerged from the buttock, twisting the corkscrew with excruciating
slowness through muscles stiffened by the strain of her position and spasming
from the compounded torment of the drill and the fractures, each turn causing
a new howl to burst through the foam in her mouth and jerk her head in a
snap before losing itself under the vaults of the chamber.
With methodical cruelty, he always returned to drilling through her bloody
breasts, squeezing a firm mammary in the hand while slowly twisting the long
corkscrew in until it pierced through the other end, and then continuing to
twist it while she howled in mad pain. In spite of Lyral's efforts, she bled
from dozens of excruciating wounds and when he started drilling the corkscrew
around her sphincter, keeping the tip buried inside the wall of her rectum,
repeated frenzies of howling agony and spasmodic buckling wracked her to the
point of badly displacing the fractures in her right arm and left leg.
When the Easterner let Kayleen down, Lyral put all her efforts into healing
her friend as quickly as possible, allowing some semblance of sanity to return
to a mind awash in mad pain for so long. Kayleen felt her friend's mouth, but
the warm flow of healing was suddenly broken when she was dragged away.
Kayleen was carried to a contraption not unlike a steel chair deprived of the
seat, and had her ankle and knee cuffs fastened to the front legs before being
forced to arch back until he could fasten her wrists to the ankles. He let her
sip from the jug, then twisted into her rectum between her screams of pain a
sturdy hook lowered from the ceiling and used it to lift her off the floor.
He then suspended Lyral's hogtied body from a wedge-shaped steel bar under her
arms, near enough to be able to yank Kayleen's hook until her face ran into
her friend's hands, bound behind the back. He spent some time adjusting the
position of the two girls, then grabbed Kayleen's dangling left breast,
clamped the nipple and pushed up the corkscrew between the jaws of the clamp,
slowly twisting it into her breast flesh between squirts of blood and hellish
screams bursting past her foaming mouth while she twitched madly on the hook.
The corkscrew pierced the sole of her right foot while a scream of desperate
pain shook her mouth, and she kept buckling and screaming her lungs out while
her tormentor protracted the torment of her twitching foot. When her screams
waned to a wheeze, he yanked her face between Lyral's hands.
"Kayleen, is it you ?" called the young Priestess, her fingers exploring the
features of Kayleen's face. She did not wait for a response to allow her power
to flow freely. The syrupy liquid of the jug tasted bitter in Kayleen's mouth.
Sobs and harsh gasps wracked Kayleen's hanging body until her tormentor let
go, causing her to swing back and the healing to stop. Grabbing the left fold
of her labia, he started driving the corkscrew through the tender flesh and
kept drilling in spite of her spasmodic jerks, wrenching hellish screams of
nightmarish torment from her her and bringing her agony to bottoms of depraved
cruelty when the tip reached her clitoris and he guided it through the
sensitive feminine flesh with a pair of pliers, continuing to twist the
corkscrew while her mouth distended in a frenzied howl of pain after another.
He protracted her torment drilling into her clitoris through the other labia,
and then squeezed her breasts together and drilled through the bases of her
nipples while she frothed at the mouth, gurgling in unabated anguish and
screaming when her voice found some of its former strength again. But a new
chill gripped her throat when she felt the tip of the corkscrew on her left
leg, where her fractured bone was easily felt in the swollen flesh.
The agony of a thousand hells raged through her body when the corkscrew
penetrated the swollen flesh at the fracture point and insinuated between the
displaced ends of the broken bone, howling through her foaming mouth in
shrieks of unabated torment and wracking her body into spasms of demented woe.
The pain shook her without mercy nor interruption and was protracted as each
limb in turn was savaged by the corkscrew while waves of blazing pain coursed
through her body and burst in gut-wrenching howls from her torn mouth. She
kept writhing in raw pain on the hook while the drill trashed her displaced
fractures, her voice waning and waxing in screams of harrowing agony, until
her tormentor pushed her contorted face between Lyral's hands again.
Only despair set apart Kayleen's scream when the healing was interrupted from
those which had echoed under the vaults before, and she hung sobbing bitterly
while the Southerner changed Lyral's restraints, connecting the wrists and
ankles with a slender chain wound around a pulley. He then let Kayleen down,
with a wedge under her back so that she was a few inches off the floor, and
spread her arms and legs wide, cuffing them to iron rings.
Lyral tried to dive and reach her friend's forehead, discovering with a scream
that this caused her shoulder joints to bear most of her weight. Yet, after a
few attempts she managed to reach her friend's forehead with her lips and kiss
it, causing Kayleen to burst in a sob of disillusioned relief.
"Lyral ... too much ... I can't ..." she whispered between bloody coughs.
"Do not despair, Kayleen. I'll be with you to the end" answered Lyral.
Slowly, Lyral's healing power coursed through Kayleen's wracked body, and soon
the fractures started to improve visibly. Kayleen's position no longer
prevented the magic from melding the bones together, and her agony was
receding rapidly when the devious imagination of her tormentor manifested
again as he put the tip of the corkscrew against the inside of her thigh and
started drilling obliquely, keeping the corkscrew inside the flesh while she
buckled in mad pain until he brought the tip against the bone and started
scraping it with forceful twists on the T-shaped handle of the corkscrew.
As unbridled agony wracked violently her stretched body, the soothing warmth
of Lyral's power was swept aside by the raging torment of the scraped bone,
and even when Lyral managed to resume the process, it addressed her fractures
before the comparatively minor but excruciating wounds reaching through stiff
muscle and chipping at her bones. Unspeakable torments wracked her stretched
body as the flesh of her limb was trashed by the corkscrew seeking the bone
to inflict protracted, spasmodic frenzies of hellish agony.
With uncharacteristic savagery, the Easterner slid the corkscrew through the
base of her breasts to repeatedly scrape her ribs, one after the other,
placing himself between Kayleen's buckling body and Lyral's lips. Wretched
howls of gasping torment surged from Kayleen's mouth as the blood squirting
from the pierced breasts flowed in rivulets down her heaving chest, so wracked
by screams that she could not find the breath to articulate the pleads
mounting within her. The Easterner could not discern the croaked syllables
which escaped her mouth between screams of unspeakable torment as he twisted
the corkscrew through the base of her clitoris to scrape her pubic bone.
When he moved off, to continue drilling from a more advantageous position,
Lyral plunged again, ignoring the pain in her shoulder joints, and reached
Kayleen's sweat-soaked forehead.
"Kayleen, I'm here! Don't shake your head, let me heal you" she whispered,
her teeth chattering from the agony in her shoulders.
However much Kayleen craved Lyral's soothing touch, keeping still before the
blazing agony tearing through her clitoris and scraping her pubic bone was a
feat beyond human possibilities, but the mirage of Lyral's healing gave her a
goal beyond making her pleads heard.
When the merciless continuation of the torture brought exhaustion, she had
managed to offer Lyral half a dozen chances to deliver her some healing
through kisses which suffused her pain-wracked body with temporary relief from
the unspeakable agonies inflicted on her, slowly mending her broken bones.
The wounds in her breasts and crotch still bled, and she still buckled in
horrid agony whenever a twist on the corkscrew scraped her pubic bone and
savaged the tattered strands of flesh from her clitoris, held between the jaws
of the pliers wielded by her tormentor, but the warmth of her friend's help
had temporarily swept the pall of despair away.
When Grod stepped in, she was still twitching in anguish while her restraints
were carefully changed. She had vaguely hoped to be left in Lyral's care, but
her tormentor had other plans and while she was left chained on the floor to
sip from the jug like a dog, Lyral was dragged to the cross rack. Kayleen's
sight cleared enough to realize what fate awaited her friend, and the terror
of having her friend's limbs broken like hers coursed through her, spurring
her to a mad jerk which caused Grod to lose his grip on her strong body.
Although not quite in her best shape, Kayleen seized the chance with the
strength of desperation and flexed her chained legs in a double kick, ignoring
the pain in her feet as her nail beds had not been healed. Grod was pushed
back, fighting for balance, and an armor clad figure materialized just as
Zhorun rose from his seat. With sudden quickness, Shandra extended her arms
and a shower of tiny sparkles engulfed Kayleen, leaving her paralyzed.
"I commend thy quickness, my apprentice. That spell I should learn," said
Zhorun, dismissing the armor clad figure once Grod nodded in confirmation.
"She'll be able to move soon. Just wait a few minutes," said Shandra.
"Why wait ?" said Zhorun after a while, "Grod, twist her fingers. Hard."
Grod did as ordered, puzzled at first, inspecting her while tentatively
twisting her stiff fingers and arms.
"The paralysis made the muscles stiff, although she still breathes. It seems
the effect is more intense on long, thin muscles. If I pull or twist them, I
can see signs of pain. Even her face contorts, albeit slowly"
"Unfortunately, we would have to wait the expiration of the spell to hear the
information being sought. A glaring opportunity for thy test, my apprentice,
if the spell can be made more selective. You may proceed, Grod."
Grod dragged Kayleen near the cross rack, but had to wait until her muscles
returned to normal before fastening her wrists and ankles to the device, her
shoulders and hips caught by the bands which allowed the pull to be applied on
the limbs without endangering the spine. She had been able to see Lyral hung
under the arms of the device, an obviously improvised predicament.
Once she was firmly fastened to the device, he started encasing her limbs
between heavy wooden planks, whose purpose Kayleen recognized as a knot formed
in her throat. She had already been tormented with a variant of the devices,
which squeezed the limbs and cracked bone under the relentless pressure of
hammered wooden wedges. These planks came in twin pairs, kept together by iron
screws at the four corners, and the inner planks had iron spikes.
He started tightening the planks, one at a time, verifying that the spikes did
not endanger major blood vessels, ignoring her gasps and cries as the skin was
being pierced. Under the device, Lyral felt the blood drip on her flesh while
Kayleen's screams mounted, and twisted left and right, attempting to reach her
friend's arms. Being shorter, she managed to reach the planks encasing the
forearms; the rack itself made landing a kiss with the lips out of question.
Kayleen's bitter gasps and short screams continued while her tormentor made
sure that the iron bands at her shoulders and hips were firmly in place, then
poured in her reluctant mouth a good third of the contents of the jug. When he
started cranking the rack, the left arm first, she was wracked by a scream of
bitter despair as the limb was stretched through the grip of the spiked planks
which cut bleeding gashes through her quivering flesh.
The torment of the spikes being dragged forcefully through her stiff muscles
surged from her mouth in protracted screams of helpless agony, broken by
pitiful choking and then resumed as another notch was measured in fractions of
an inch through bleeding, lacerated flesh. When the tension was released, the
limb snapped, in spite of the planks, and the spikes trashed the edge of the
wounds they had dug, causing her howls to rise to high heaven as she jerked
her head in demented agony. When tension was applied again, they resumed the
forceful ripping of her flesh as the pull of the rack dragged them inside
wounded flesh between trembling screams of convulsed torment.
As her limbs were slowly stretched, since each notch released was followed by
two notches of stretching, sometimes applied to both upper or lower limbs and
sometimes to an arm and a leg instead, her shoulder and hip joints were
brought almost to the point of dislocation, wracking savage waves of
excruciating pain through her convulsing body and gut-wrenching screams of
helpless agony through her heaving chest.
The heads of her long bones teetered agonizingly in their joints, ready to be
torn off at the slightest increase in tension ... such as a convulsed jerk
when a red hot iron was lightly dragged under her left breast, leaving a
smoking crimson burn in the tender flesh and a demented howl echoing in the
torture chamber. By repeated, protracted scorching of her breasts she was
slowly made to dislocate the left arm by her own convulsed jerks.
"May I help ?" asked the Southerner with a smirk, watching the robed corpse
and studiously avoiding Grod's irritated frown. When Zhorun assented, the old
man consumed some concoction with a loud sigh. He positioned between Kayleen's
arms and grabbed her head, thrusting his erect member down her throat with a
force which pushed on her neck and sent pangs of torment through her shoulder
joints, forcing her howl to envelope his manhood while she gurgled in despair.
"Hold the iron there ... closer, closer ... fine, I'll do the rest" said the
Southerner to an irritated Zhorun, making him hold the glowing red hot iron
across Kayleen's nipples, close enough to singe them upon each strangled
breath but not enough for actual contact. The Southerner continued enjoying
Kayleen's gurgled pleasuring of his member for a while, then grabbed her hair
and thrust forcefully his member into her mouth, pushing her enough to wrench
blazes of white hot agony from her shoulder joints and to push the nipples
into contact with the red hot iron, arching in rutting pleasure when her
spasmodic screams enveloped his bulging member while she shook in mad agony.
Lyral kept sobbing from impotence as her friend's torturous violation was
protracted a few inches from her head. When the Southerner's lust was spent at
last, Kayleen's screams as her breasts were slowly scorched with the hot iron
resumed, until the sound of her other shoulder tearing off its socket could be
heard for an instant before being drowned by a bitter howl of raw agony.
Just as she was consumed by the agony in her shoulders, Grod started hammering
wedges between the twin planks encasing her arms, each of different thickness,
forcing the planks to tighten their grip on her strained muscles and the
spikes to dig fractionally deeper. When the red hot iron rubbed her labia, she
arched in mad agony, not only from her scorched femininity but from the spasms
in the constricted muscles of the arm, forced to stiffen in the spiked grip of
the savagely tight planks. As the red hot iron was repeatedly dragged inside
her thighs, through her slit and under her clitoris, she twitched and buckled
between demented howls of raw agony until the Southerner moved between her
splayed legs, taking the iron from Grod's hand and thrusting it up her ass.
A gurgled howl burst from her mouth as she arched as much as her constraints
allowed, wracking her hip joints through white hot blazes of searing pain,
vainly attempting to escape the slow searing of her bowels. When the iron was
pulled out, the Southerner returned it to Grod and pointed insistently to her
nipples. Grod, still visibly irritated, heated the iron again and placed it
close to her nipples again, so that when the Southerner thrust his member up
Kayleen's scorched rectum his push brought the nipples in contact.
Kayleen's desperate screams continued unabated for the whole duration of her
violator's drug enhanced lust, fanned by the repeated scorching of her nipples
and the incessant scraping of his manhood on the oozing walls of her bowels.
She continued screaming even when he pulled out, quivering from the residual
pain and occasionally wracked by a wave of hellish agony.
With manifest irritation, Grod proceeded to hammer wedges between the planks
encasing her lower limbs, wrenching more screams of atrocious pain from her
shaking body which became demented howls once he started to brush her labia
and clitoris with the hot iron again, because the planks squeezed the spikes
into the muscle just as the limb strained near dislocation, and the agony from
the spasms in the twitching legs was almost on par with the searing pain from
burned flesh. Upon Zhorun's assent, Grod pushed the hot iron deep up Kayleen's
bowels, reaming them slowly while she arched and buckled in atrocious pain,
screaming mindlessly as her chest heaved in a convulsed jerk after the other.
The Southerner returned between her legs, savagely grabbed her scorched labia
and thrust his drug hardened manhood inside her blistered love channel, the
drool at the corners of his mouth matching the foam bubbling in hers as she
howled in pitiful agony under the repeated tearing of her scorched innards.
After a protracted frenzy of savage lust, her violator pulled out and pointed
to the red hot iron, as if to complain because it had been left in the
brazier; Grod's irritation was about to burst in violence when Zhorun's voice
slithered through the room, audible in spite of Kayleen's cries.
"Your exemplary cooperation has been noted, Grod," said the former wizard.
A strange expression distended Grod's lineaments, so quickly that Shandra was
not able to tell if she had really seen fear on the executioner's face, and he
again placed the red hot iron close to Kayleen's nipples just as the old man
was almost done smearing her love channel with white powder. When he resumed
her violation, the innards dried by the powder were deprived of the meager
benefit of lubrication from the blood and ooze from the blistered walls and
agonizingly chafed by the studded leather harness worn on his drug hardened
member, while new shrill screams of wretched agony coursed through her
convulsing body, until his frantic thrusts forced her left thigh to teeter
into and out its socket until ripped off between desperate howls of agony.
Lyral felt something drip on her buttocks and squirmed in horror at the
thought of the savage old man's semen being released inside her friend's
ravaged innards. It took her a while to realize that Kayleen's torturous
violation was continuing, because the Southerner's frenzied lust had been
fanned by his victim's agony and he continued to linger inside her, relishing
in her convulsed jerks and sobbing humiliation at being abused beyond lust.
Meanwhile, Grod started tightening strong iron bands at her knees and elbows,
apparently unconcerned with her predicament save for another sip from the jug,
Upon the old man's request, he handed over a small grater and ignored him when
he started rasping and peeling her blistered clitoris, drooling while she
twitched and buckled her pelvis around his member, massaging it in the
exhilarating rhythm of excruciating agony while her mouth sang the song of
pitiful woe which most aroused her deranged tormentor.
Before Grod was done with his work, the Southerner thrust violently into her
vagina with renewed lust, screaming hoarsely in rhythm with his pumping while
her voice croaked in pitiful shrieks of bitter torment. Grod was no longer
holding the iron to her nipples, but the Southerner kept her bleeding clitoris
between the rasp and his thumb so that each thrust brought a new squirt of
blood from her femininity and a new howl of hellish agony from her mouth.
At long last, his rabid thrusts managed to force the dislocation of her other
hip joint, at which her howls of abysmal pain brought him to increase his
rhythm in triumph, but in his frenzied lust he continued violating her, and
continued pushing violently with his loins even after squirting his release
within her womb with a strangled gasp of ecstatic pleasure.
Grod poured the remaining contents of the jug down Kayleen's distended mouth
and splashed her with cold water, but allowed her no other respite before
cranking the rack again. Slowly, arm by arm, the device stretched her limbs
further, pulling from ankles and wrists on her elbow and knee joints. Lyral
took a while to take stock of this new development and her mouth opened in
mute terror, as her training told her that a dislocation of the knee or elbow
was if possible even more painful than at the shoulder or hip.
Kayleen's wretched screams soon confirmed her friend's worst fears, and her
head alternated between banging on the rack and contorting into fits of
unbelievable agony, her mouth wracked by screams so devastating that it almost
looked like it could not stretch enough to accommodate them. The planks around
her limbs had been further tightened by hammering more wedges and squeezed her
limbs into misshapen bundles of unrelenting pain, turning the pull from the
rack and from her convulsed jerks into bone cracking pressure. The spikes dug
bleeding gashes in her strained muscles, causing them to snap and twitch in
abysmal torment while she howled in wretched anguish.
Just as her knees and elbows were slowly dislocated, the savage compression
started cracking her bones, one by one, arm by arm, protracting the hideous
torment of her deformed, convulsing body into a nightmare of hellish agony
which refused to end when marrow squirted from her thigh bones, when her voice
waned into wheezing howls as her forearms snapped from the elbows, even when
her knees tore while he crushed her feet inside spiked iron boots.
When the nightmare of hideous agonies and protracted screams finally ended
into a fitful aftermath of raucous moans as the rack was released, Lyral's
efforts to reach her friend succeeded as her fingers touched Kayleen's elbows,
which to Lyral's horror had been atrociously dislocated out of their
restraints and hung between the arms of the cross rack.
While Lyral managed to stop screaming and started delivering whatever healing
she could to the mangled body of her friend, the Southerner was disrobing and
wearing the same spiked harness he had worn a few days ago. Shandra, aghast,
looked at him in disbelief.
"What demented antics is this ?" she blurted.
"My apprentice does not appreciate your efforts, my esteemed guest" whispered
Zhorun, with a dangerous streak of cruelty in his chuckle.
"If my Master let me have my ways with her ..." commenced the Southerner, his
member already hardening in the leather harness.
"You forget your stature, my esteemed guest. Besides, this specific area of
expertise has traditionally been the province of sorcery, has it ?" he asked.
"What ..." replied Shandra, dumbfounded until realization hit her. Sorcery was
magic that sprung from within, unlike wizardry which took years of study, and
many budding sorcerers found their lot in life by selling love potions and
love spells. Or arousal spells. They sold well, Shandra remembered. She had
never shared the outrage and embarrassment which hung over such applications of
magic, but now a knot formed in her stomach at the implications.
"Make thyself useful, my apprentice. Put some of thy power to the help of our
aged guest here, and make sure his manhood is up to the task for the whole
duration of the forthcoming endeavor. I might still learn something."
"He ... he won't endure it. He's too old" stuttered Shandra, her eyes bulging.
"He can have a potion when necessary. I'm sure he's ready to take the chance,"
said Zhorun just as the Southerner nodded with a lewd grin.
Trembling, Shandra recalled the arousal spell and neared, extending her hand
to touch his erect member. It hardened visibly just as she recoiled.
Meanwhile, Lyral had continued pouring her healing power into Kayleen's
mangled body. The hideous cracks in the leg bones had been mended and almost
healed, but the position of the arms prevented a similarly effective healing,
which in turn made further efforts pointless. Lyral forced herself to stop and
conserve her power just as the Southerner neared and released her.
The old man seemed to notice that something had changed in the young Priestess
while she cuffed her wrists and ankles. The girl who used to shake in terror
before him no longer was, although her eyes still filled with tears when her
friend's voice rose in a gurgled, wheezing scream. He discarded the impulse of
investigating the matter as he wanted to possess the blonde Northern goddess
as soon as possible, and once done released Kayleen from the rack, letting her
slide to the floor in a heap of dislocated limbs like a screaming rag doll.
Spurred by hope, Lyral wriggled on the floor in the spasmodic effort to bring
her hands to touch Kayleen's trembling arms, which rested on the floor, cuffed
together in a position that would not impede healing. She started immediately,
her eyes closed, and sensed the bones mending and reshaping as desperation
lent her power an effectiveness she would not have expected in the times
devoid of nightmarish agonies that were but a dim shade of the past.
She was allowed to continue for some more time and then a swarthy hand yanked
her by the hair, breaking contact. Kayleen's scream of heart-rending despair
as the healing was interrupted short of fully restoring her dislocated limbs
tore through Lyral's tears like a whiplash.
The old man cuffed Kayleen's wrists and ankles together behind her back, then
pushed a small hook through the firm flesh of her left breast, wrenching a
protracted scream from her torn mouth. More followed, into both breasts,
thighs and belly, often tightened with pliers while she buckled in harrowing
pain, and fastened one by one to the crossed steel bars he favored for
suspensions. She continued to scream as more hooks pierced her feminine flesh,
distending her outer labia and deforming her vagina, one tearing at the bottom
cleft while two pulled on the inner labia tearing open the upper cleft.
When he pulled her up, demented howls of excruciating pain wracked her chest,
as there were not enough hooks to bear her weight and she had to support
herself with hands and feet to prevent the hooks from ripping off, a support
which her dislocated limbs could offer only at the price of harrowing agonies.
Her tormentor made sure the chains were barely long enough to let her stand on
her toes and fingers, and for a while just savored the sight of her spasmodic
trashing while her limbs teetered and twitched, wracking bitter screams
through her panting chest while the hooks tore at her flesh.
Suddenly, he grabbed her by the hips and thrust his sheathed manhood into her
vagina, tearing some hooks as he pushed violently into her scorched love
channel while she swung from the hooks and her dislocated limbs were savagely
shaken and trashed. Drinking her bitter screams like fine wine, he kept up her
violation, with a wide grin at the unnatural endurance allowed by magic.
When his arousal finally found release, he pulled out, panting heavily, and
slowly pushed a fine hook through the distended rim of her vagina, watching
her scream hoarsely as he twisted it left and right and then tightened it with
the pliers. Dozens more followed, their fine chains pulled together to a pair
of handles to which he also connected four more hooks which he raked through
her distended clitoris while her wretched howls echoed in the room.
After clamping the bleeding piece of feminine flesh, he smeared her insides
with the white powder which left them parched dry, and viciously pulled her
torn vagina onto his erect manhood, lifting her feet off the floor in a rut of
rabid lust. A shrill scream surged from her mouth, followed by many others as
her singed innards were scraped raw and the rim torn and shredded. Sustained
by both magic and drugs, he kept impaling her savagely up and down his erect
member, well beyond the expected endurance of even a healthy youngster, until
he burst in release between squirts of blood from her torn wounds.
Still panting, he circled her screaming form and grabbed her cheeks, seeking
fear in her bulging eyes before pushing a tiny hook through her lower lip. In
a bloody feast of cruelty, more hooks pierced her, all around her mouth and
under her tongue, until he pulled her screaming throat onto his unnaturally
hardening member, panting in excitement while viciously savaging her bleeding
mouth in a grunting rut punctuated by her desperate gurgling screams. Only
when his semen bubbled off her mouth, mixed with her blood, did her voice
surge again from the bloody mouth in a howl of hellish torment.
Fueled by magic, fanned by her pain, her tormentor's lust knew neither bounds
nor respite. He didn't bother with staples such as splashes with cold water or
a sip from the jug, and set about driving hooks in the rim of her sphincter in
prelude to another hideous violation. With untiring brutality, his sheathed
member tore her rectum as he pulled on the hooks, but her voice had already
lost its strength and her wheezing cries did not justice to the agony being
wrought onto her wracked body. Screaming and gasping, she continued buckling
in abject torment, impaled on his manhood until he finally let go of her.
While she teetered on her dislocated limbs, sobbing bitterly after being
splashed with cold, salt water, her tormentor had lowered from a sturdy steel
bar four chains ending in meat hooks. Once done, he started forcefully ripping
off the hooks suspending her to the crossed bars, lingering on those
lacerating her vagina while she convulsed in demented howling.
After cuffing elbows and wrists together behind her back, he thrust one meat
hook in the flesh of her forearm, just under the wrist, twisting it deeper and
deeper between the twin bones while she arched in spasmodic agony, until it
engaged the edge of the cuff. Once he had both her arms hooked, he pulled the
bar up until she was on her knees, cuffing her ankles to a ring while she
howled in unabated pain, then pulled her another inch off the floor, so that
she could not help her arms support her weight except with her toes.
Her screams surged and then waned to a helpless gurgle as he pulled her mouth
onto his unnaturally erect member again, drawing new blood from the gashes cut
by the hooks around her mouth. The repeated blasts of white hot pain from her
dislocated arms and legs, and the ripping agony in her violated mouth, gurgled
around his engorged manhood in screams of wretched woe, which so pleasured him
that he repeated the violation over and over, pausing to pour some syrup from
the jug down her sputtering mouth now and then.
His face red under the swarthy complexion, he reached for her calf and started
twisting a meat hook into the jerking limb, pushing it among her pitiful
screams until it engaged the cuff. He then bent her leg until he could fasten
the hook back to the chain, doing the same to her other leg while foam bubbled
in her mouth between screams of helpless anguish.
While she swung back and forth in mid air, convulsing in agony, he started
twisting fine hooks through the blistered flesh of her breasts, including the
nipples which he clamped with the pliers again. She had been subjected to such
protracted violations that her orifices were torn, scraped and shredded into
gaping holes of bleeding, pulsating crimson flesh, and only after a similar
fate was wrought on her quivering breasts did her tormentor leave her,
swinging and lost in the agonies of hanging from the hooks, her bloodied form
wracked by pangs of abysmal torment from her limbs and her mauled flesh.
Lyral was forced to sit with her back to her friend's face, which prevented
the delivery of any healing, screaming bitterly as the restraints were
perfected. The Southerner then moved behind Kayleen's splayed thighs, winding
the chains from the hooks in her breasts over the bar she swung from.
Cackling madly, he penetrated her sphincter again, thrusting forward until his
crotch pushed her thighs apart, while a wail of bitter despair wracked her
bloody chest. With both hands, he pulled on the chains leading to the hooks in
her breasts, viciously distending the latter into deformed cones of bleeding
agony and forcing her to arch forwards, sucking his member into exhilarating
pleasure as her spasming muscles clutched it and then engulfing it into raging
arousal as she swung back rending her own bleeding sphincter apart and chafing
her own bowels raw in a screeching howl of wretched anguish.
An unexpected bump in the back told Lyral that the swings were wide enough for
contact, but not enough to turn her head and deliver some healing. Kayleen
continued to swing back and forth, wracked by the agonies in her bowels, the
torment in her dislocated limbs and by the shredding of her breasts, but only
when she felt her tormentor's release inside, and realized that his arousal
was prodigiously being rekindled again, only then did desperate pleads for her
friend's help surge between her coughing frenzies of desperate screaming.
Trembling, Lyral arched back with a scream of her own, delivering a fleeting
wave of healing power through the brief contact, but also revealing that her
breasts were pierced by hooks whose chains ran to her toes, so that she could
arch only at the price of ripping horrid gashes through her flesh.
Relishing his own cruel debauchery, the Southerner had no wish to impede the
continuation of his victim's defilement and set about making her swings wider,
so that she could be healed longer, and find her agonies increased upon
swinging back. After coming within her bowels again, he replaced the harness
on his member with a studded one, then reiterated her violation with the
horrid implement over and over, wallowing in her convulsed screaming.
Not sated yet, he replaced the harness with another, smeared with hot pepper
oil and rubbed in sand, and resumed violating his victim's bowels before
Shandra's horrified eyes. The effect of his drugs and her magic had unleashed
a rabid lust a beast would be ashamed of, fueling it beyond any boundary of
nature. The violations continued, each long and harrowing, with the briefest
pause in between for a sip from the jug or a splash of cold water.
When Kayleen collapsed on the floor, the repeated brushes with her friend's
healing power had staved off death by blood loss, but bottomless pits of agony
burned behind her clear blue eyes. She twitched in terror when he placed a
chair under her and spread her legs wide in mid air, fastening heavy weights
to the iron bands at her knees. He wound the chains from the hooks in her
shredded breasts around a pulley above, lifted her with both hands to sit on
the chair, then among her screams of bitter despair pulled her vagina down his
unbelievably erect member, sheathed again in simple leather.
Relishing in the game he was fond of, he then pulled viciously on the chains,
lifting her by her shredded breasts between squirts of blood while the
scorched, defiled walls of her love channel clutched his member and her voice
trembled in a howl beyond her possibilities. When he let her drop down, the
weights at her knees pulled her thighs at the dislocated joints and rattled
her legs still suspended by the dreadful hooks, forcing her voice to rise in a
scream fueled by the devastating pain coursing through her lower limbs.
Lyral, no longer able to intervene, watched her friend's vagina repeatedly
shredded as she trashed up and down his erect member. When she was dropped,
her dislocated hip joins were jarred as her thighs were torn apart by the
weight, and after a few violations he treated her with the white powder which
parched her love channel dry, turning each slide down his impossibly erect
member into repeated scraping of her raw flesh, which wrenched long howls of
demented agony from her bleeding, torn mouth.
When he changed to the studded harness, the studs started scraping bits of
flesh which squirted together with blood each time she came down. Their traces
inside her womb could be seen as bruises tracing a dull point bulging under
the flesh, because the clutching reflex as she was pulled by her breasts stuck
them in the wall before they got dragged down between howls of abysmal pain.
Still panting but spurred by a lust which the exhilarating wine of her agony
only enraged, he let her down enough for Lyral to wriggle nearby in spite of
the torment in her breasts and stamp her lips on her friend's quivering back,
bent on delivering as much healing as possible while the Southerner changed
her restraints again. He freed her arms from their suspension and wound them
around a wedge-shaped steel bar under her elbows, then ran the chains from the
hooks in her breasts to the bands at her knees and the chain from the hooks in
her forearms to those at her ankles, forcing her arms to bend backwards and
her legs to twist outwards into renewed agony for her dislocated joints.
Using a needle, he then threaded a knotted cord all around the shredded rim of
her vagina, crudely stitching its tatters together into a smallish hole whose
flapping rim he pierced with hooks while Kayleen howled in pain so hideous
that her bloodied face had many facial muscles strained from the contortions
forced by the appalling agonies wrought on her quivering body, not least the
threading of the knotted cord through her shredded clitoris. When done he ran
the cord to her cuffs, and then pulled her by the bar under her elbows.
The agonies wracking her screaming body, from the strain on the dislocated
joints to the hooks ripping through her flesh whenever pain instigated her
convulsed jerks, found new hellish depths when he wore a sheath soaked in hot
pepper oil and rubbed in sand to penetrate her with a vicious thrust, which
reverberated through her body and forced her wrists to pull on the cord around
her vagina, tightening it while his member shredded it back and forth.
As her howls continued unabated, echoing under the vaults of the torture
chamber in trembling frenzies of wretched agony, he reiterated the violation
of her womb, always driven by a lust whose rage sustained an arousal beyond
mercy. He continued thrusting viciously, peeling the rim of her vagina raw and
slowly abrading it while desperate screams of excruciating agony wracked her
heaving chest, until the knotted cord was exposed and scraped free.
Shandra had to use a spell to prevent herself from puking, three times.
Lyral's eyes watched in bulging horror her suffering friend, hanging outside
her reach. Kayleen's nightmarish screams echoed in their ears without
interruption and it looked like the horror would never end. But the drugs and
the magic reached their limits, when the old man slowed his rhythm and then
pulled away with a hiss. Upon Zhorun's command, Grod unenthusiastically yanked
the Southerner's head and poured a generous helping of potion down his throat.
The Easterner lowered Kayleen on the floor and looked behind his back at the
silent corpse, who nodded. He cuffed Kayleen's wrists and ankles and dragged
her near an iron pillory. He then grabbed Lyral, freed her toes and dragged
her nearby. While he lowered a chain from the ceiling, Lyral wriggled near her
friend and managed to touch Kayleen's mangled body.
"Lyral ... it hurts ... please" croaked Kayleen's voice.
"Here, Kayleen. Be still. I am here now" answered Lyral.
"It never ... stops. Always worse. I can't take it" gurgled Kayleen.
"Don't let them win, Kayleen. Hold on," urged Lyral, trembling under the
impression of the anguish coursing through Kayleen's poor limbs.
She managed to address her friend's hideous wounds, stopping blood loss and
reversing some of the hideous damage, and was about to relocate her elbow and
knee joints when the Easterner grabbed her by the ankles, causing Kayleen to
arch in a cry of forlorn despair. Lyral was hung upside down from the ceiling,
arms and elbows cuffed behind her back. Before her eyes, Kayleen would be
plunged again into nightmarish agonies for Zhorun's ... pleasure. They no
longer bothered torturing her, but being proved right was torture enough.
The Easterner fastened Kayleen's wrist cuffs to a vertical steel pole and
pulled her ankles sideways and back, enough to fasten her ankle cuffs to rings
set in the floor, too far back for her to support her weight even on the toes.
Soon her sobs turned to bitter screams as pain wracked her dislocated limbs,
forced by her slumped position to bear the strain of her full weight.
He neared, holding in his hands two wooden handles connected by three strands
of thick, coarse rope, like hemp but darker and bristling with tiny hairs. He
wound the rope around her left forearm and started rubbing back and forth,
slowly at first and then with increasing intensity. Puzzlement immediately
turned to horror on her face, followed by a wretched howl as her elbow joint
teetered under the pull. The immediate pain momentarily overshadowed the
friction of the ropes burning and scraping, but as the chafing was protracted
and the ropes started drawing blood she started buckling, vainly attempting to
offset the progressive, burning abrasion of her skin.
The merciless chafing continued, scraping the skin burned by the relentless
friction to expose the pulsating flesh underneath while she arched and
buckled in excruciating pain, her mouth gaping in a wheezing howl for which
she no longer had the strength. The ropes had been wound around her forearm in
a simple loop designed to bring them, in adept hands, to chafe the skin around
the entire girth of the limb. Used forcefully, the dry, coarse rope generated
enough friction to burn the skin before abrading it slowly, wreaking atrocious
pain on Kayleen's twitching form as the burned skin was shredded raw.
When he stopped, panting, Lyral's eyes bulged at the swaths of chafed, bloody
and shredded skin crossed by gashes of torn flesh marring her friend's slender
forearm. As if this horror was not enough, he poured a liquid on the open,
shredded flesh and the acrid smell of vinegar reached Lyral's nostrils almost
at the same time as Kayleen's inhuman howl of wretched agony, which continued
unabated as she rattled her dislocated limbs arching between demented screams.
After catching his breath, he circled her and started chafing the right leg,
wringing new screams from her buckling chest because the back and forth motion
caused the leg to teeter at the dislocated knee. Kayleen was withering between
hellish torments which started with the white hot agonies from the dislocated
limbs, saw them eclipsed by the burning agony of friction on the skin and then
culminated in the shredding of the skin and the scraping of raw flesh below,
hideous lacerations slowly diminished by the blood lubricating the rope.
On taut muscle, such as her leg, the shredding caused spasmodic strains which
added to her agonies, drawing long howling screams as the leg quivered as if
burning from within. In some places, such as the shins, white bone showed
through in places. Lyral balked at the horrid torment, which proved how much
the torturers had come to rely on magical healing, absent which Kayleen, in
spite of her exceptional endurance would never live through such an ordeal.
Meanwhile, the Easterner had poured vinegar on Kayleen's leg and was catching
his breath while her screams echoed unabated in the room, fueled by the agony
of the acidic liquid as much as the uninterrupted torment of the joints. Her
elbows and knees were swollen and bruised, even worse than her shoulders and
hips, and her spasmodic jerks often allowed the heads of bones to be seen
twitching and displacing under the skin. Her face was a contorted mask of
sheer anguish, still bloody from the harrowing violations of her mouth
deformed by the spider gag into a gaping outlet of the agonies wrought on her.
Her other forearm was subjected to the chafing ropes, with the same merciless
cruelty visited on her other limbs. Lyral tried to swing closer, but Kayleen's
slumping position precluded contact, sometimes by mere inches. At least three
times her lips almost touched Kayleen's heaving shoulder blades, giving her a
close view of the harrowing screams wracking her heaving chest but not a
chance to deliver the healing her friend needed. When blood finally made the
ropes slippery, before vinegar was poured, Lyral called.
"Kayleen, I can't reach you. Try to lift your back!"
Her friend's strangled scream as vinegar washed over her shredded flesh made
Lyral fear that she might have not heard, but then she saw the muscles stiffen
in spite of the harrowing agony from her dislocated limbs, and Kayleen's pain
wracked back rose enough for her to touch her with her lips. The fleeting
contact did not allow much, and Kayleen's slumped position prevented her from
healing the dislocated joints, but Lyral could not stand aside before the
excruciating torments her friend was being subjected to.
The chafing of her other leg followed, slowly protracted until her shin bone
gleamed white in a number of places of the bleeding limb while Lyral's healing
at least stopped the blood loss from the swaths of shredded skin but could not
help with the frenzies of demented howling as the harrowing pain from the
burned skin being shredded wracked the leg, rattled the knee joint and coursed
in spasmodic jerks through the whole body before bursting from her torn mouth
in fitful, winded screams of uninterrupted anguish.
After bringing the jug to her lips, he splashed her with cold, salt water and
while she still trembled and gasped in wheezing agony, set a wrist free and
cuffed it to a chain from the ceiling, followed by the other. He then pulled
her arms up behind her back and fastened her ankle cuffs to chains from both
sides which he pulled until her legs opened in a savage split which fanned new
agonies in her dislocated hip joints. He adjusted the chains until she hung in
mid air, each arm twisted up behind her back and the legs spread in a
dislocated split which caused harsh screams upon each breath.
She trembled in a hissing sigh of bitter despair when he wound the ropes
around her left arm, a sigh which turned a scream as pain surged from her
shoulder and elbow in jarring waves of atrocious agony. Lyral continued her
fleeting deliveries of some healing, but the inability to address the
dislocations impeded treatment of lesser but equally painful wounds such as
the swaths of burned skin being shredded on her arm.
Vinegar was poured on her hand, flowing down her arm and renewing the agony
in the forearm before evoking it in the newly shredded upper arm, and healing
could help little with the white hot bursts of raw torment rattling her hung
body while gut-wrenching winded screams jerked her head back and forth. Nor
could it help when the skin of her left thigh was slowly shredded, fold by
fold, protracting the agony with the white powder which left it parched dry
so that on softer skin the rope could inflict its burning agonies much longer
and then shred it unmercifully while harrowing frenzies of excruciating pain
wracked her buckling body into mad fits of demented screaming.
Vinegar was poured again on a leg twitching in torment, turning the twitches
to spasmodic jerks as the liquid seeped in the crisscrossing swaths of chafed,
burned and shredded skin to reach the crimson of raw flesh or the gleaming
white of exposed bone, reverberating through the convulsing body with hideous
wheezing howls of forlorn anguish interspersed by choked gasps of raw pain.
She drank avidly from the jug again, unable to refuse the strength which only
made the pain worse. The torment of her other thigh began and was carried out
while she rattled her chains from the torment in her joints, convulsed in
frenzies of howling anguish from the burning of the skin, and arched in
spasmodic jerks as it was shredded between winded howls of excruciating agony.
When he wound the ropes around her belly, Lyral burst in tears at the sight of
the expression in Kayleen's blue eyes. She had tried to heal her repeatedly,
but could not shield her from such agonies. The ropes chafed her belly and her
chest, wrenching hideous screams from her mouth as her limbs rattled under her
demented buckling, rising up and down and leaving angry red swaths of chafed
skin which turned angry red as it was slowly burned by the friction from the
merciless rope, augmented by generous helpings of white powder.
Slowly the burned skin was rasped away by the ropes, torn and shredded in
bloody tatters as the ropes dug shallow gashes of fiery torment in her
quivering body while she screamed her lungs out. The white of her ribs was
exposed in several places, but that was nothing before the atrocious torment
inflicted on her breasts when a single rope was dragged under the iron rings
constricting their base, slowly sawing them off her chest through relentless
friction while her mouth tore at the corners from the withering howls surging
through it and then chafing them raw while tight nipple clamps distended them
into pulsating cones of raw tormented flesh.
Not even the harrowing torment of abundant aspersions with vinegar over her
mostly flayed body wrenched from her howls like those wracking her convulsing
chest when her breasts were slowly shredded raw in atrocious fits of howling
agony, seizing her visage into a mask of contorted torment shaken by screams
bursting through the foam bubbling in her mouth. The distended nipples were
peeled off between the unyielding jaws of the clamps, scraped raw and slowly
shredded until torn off by her spasmodic jerks. Nobody objected.
As vinegar was poured on her wounds, her wheezing screams waned and waxed
pitifully, and continued while her tormentor lowered her on the floor, keeping
her legs spread and lowering her shoulders until her elbows reached the
ground. She was in such pain that when he twisted her arms in their sockets,
pulling the elbows back behind the head and then stretching them to a ring in
the floor, her reaction was a pitiful wheezing scream. But she trembled in
dread when he wound the ropes through her crotch, while Lyral turned her gaze
praying softly under her breath. The jug was emptied in her mouth, and cold,
salt water was repeatedly splashed on her quivering body.
The chafing started slowly, with the ropes pulling her loins off the floor in
jerks which wracked her dislocated joints and wrenched winded screams of raw
pain from a throat which supposedly could no longer contain the agonies she
was enduring. The chafing and burning were mercilessly protracted by repeated
use of the white powder and frequent recourse to new, dry ropes, dragging her
screaming feminine parts through nightmarish hells of endless torment as the
soft flesh was chafed and burned with atrocious deliberation.
A clamp distended her clitoris, bearing a good fraction of her weight, and
exposed it to relentless chafing and burning in spite of her spasmodic efforts
to lessen the agony of having it slowly peeled raw. The ropes wound back and
forth through her feminine flesh, searing the cleft between her legs from the
sphincter through her vulva and shredding her labia raw. In spite of the
demented howls wracking her convulsing chest, the chafing was protracted,
shredding skin and flesh and tearing through her inner lips. No respite was
given, scraping the rim of the vagina and the distended clitoris raw while
drawn out frenzies of inhuman woe shook her buckling body. New ropes were
produced, shredding the raw flesh in thin strands while atrocious screams
wracked her spasmodically convulsing chest, over and over until the tatters
of her shredded clitoris were torn off from the clamp.
Lyral's pleads, which could not be heard between Kayleen's barrage of screams,
were silently acknowledged and she was brought down and allowed to heal her
friend. She wriggled to bring her hands in contact with Kayleen's twitching
body, and almost puked when she felt the agony coursing through it, worried
sick at the torn nipples and clitoris because healing magic could not attach
severed body parts. She silently prayed for a miracle, for the power to help
her friend ... and her heart sang when she saw her horrid wounds slowly
recede, her swollen joints deflate and her pulsating flesh stop bleeding.
A swarthy hand yanked Lyral's head while Kayleen screamed in despair, while
the Southerner's voice mocked, "That's enough. She gets feisty otherwise."
"Indeed," whispered Zhorun, adding "Would my apprentice show us how her study
progresses so far ?"
Still trembling, Shandra concentrated, and moments later a bullwhip uncoiled
from a table nearby and snaked to Kayleen's limp body. The whip cracked across
her shoulder blades, drawing a hissing scream from the torn chest. The lashes
followed one another, in quick succession, tracing angry red welts on the
twitching shoulders.
"Too quick," commented Grod after a dozen lashes.
"We defer to your expertise in these matters, Grod, but if this is a variation
of the rope animation spell, it does not last long, pauses would be wasteful.
The concept is interesting, however. Please arrange the prisoner suitably, my
apprentice needs more tuition"
Grod cuffed Kayleen's wrists to chains from the ceiling, twisting the arms up
wide behind her back, then cuffed each ankle to the corresponding wrist by a
chain shortened until the leg was pulled off the floor. While she started
screaming from the strain in her dislocated limbs, he spread her ankles until
her shins came to rest on wedges, to which he fastened the bands at her knees.
Zhorun concentrated, reanimating the bullwhip that lay on the ground after
about two dozen lashes. The whip coiled and cracked inside Kayleen's splayed
thighs, alternating quickly between left and right as she arched screaming.
"Switching target helps deliver more lashes," commented Zhorun.
The handle turned upwards and impaled Kayleen's rectum, while the tip moved to
her soles, always alternating between left and right while she jerked with a
strangled scream upon each thrust from the handle.
"Two hands are no longer a limitation", added the corpse.
The tip cut across a nipple and then switched to the other with blinding
speed while the handle snaked inside her vagina, about to draw blood again.
"The spell allows remarkable precision", he chirped.
Shandra watched in disbelief as the lashing continued, its duration a measure
of Zhorun's power. After over sixty lashes, the tip left the nipples and slid
inside Kayleen's vagina, vibrating inside as it lashed her innards under the
impulse of the spell while she buckled and howled in bitter pain.
"Areas ordinarily hard to reach can be targeted", said Zhorun.
The lashes started tearing at her clitoris while the handle penetrated her
rectum again, and continued for a dozen strikes before falling on the floor
while Kayleen's body arched and twitched in screaming agony.
"Amusing, but too brief," whispered the grating voice of the former wizard.
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