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Chapter 26 - Diligence Demonstrated
The rattling of chains was drowned by a bitter cry as Kayleen twitched in the
vain attempt to lessen her torment. She hung in mid-air, her knees wound over
the serrated edge of a wedge-shaped steel bar and her arms pulled between the
thighs, under the bar, the wrists cuffed to the inside of the ankles.
Her own arms squeezed together her breasts, still constricted by the serrated
iron rings around their base. Her thumbs bled in thumbscrews fastened to the
wooden wedge penetrating her womb up to the cervix, but the worst agonies came
from the dislocated joints, which her position strained mercilessly, and the
swaths of skin chafed raw, which rubbed together at the slightest movement.
"Lyral .. are you here ?" she croaked, her mind still lost in a haze of pain,
not able to see that her friend was there but could not answer, her mouth
stuffed with rags so that she could only moan and rattle the chains she hung
from, too far to reach Kayleen's shivering body.
"Lyral ..." cried Kayleen again, wracked by pain as the shivers she had tried
to control coursed through her drenched body. The wedge made bending at the
waist painful, its dents and slivers cut her insides and its girth rubbed the
lacerated rim of her vagina incessantly. A pearly glow enveloped Lyral's head,
revealing her predicament to her sobbing friend, whose head sank in despair.
Deprived even of the comfort of a friendly voice, Kayleen shivered in misery
and bitter pain for a time she lost track of, until heavy footsteps turned her
nightmares into reality again. Desperation wracked her bitter sighs.
"No ... please. Not already," she muttered.
Zhorun entered, followed by Grod and the Southerner. It was actually very
early, before dawn, and Kayleen could not yet realize that he had ordered
changes in how she would be interrogated. She was lowered on the floor, then
Lyral was brought nearby, still gagged and blindfolded, and allowed to heal
Kayleen's mercilessly restrained body at length.
As the healing power coursed through her body, Kayleen's mind climbed back to
some semblance of sanity from unfathomable depths of horrid agony, enough to
weep softly at the prospect of more tortures to come. Although she had craved
her friend's healing power until now, she caught herself wondering if she
could ask not to be healed, as this only allowed her torturers more latitude.
Just as the thought of conceding defeat grew in her mind, the Southerner, who
had been waiting for blonde curls to appear again in Kayleen's pubic area,
yanked Lyral away by her hair.
Grod tightened Kayleen's collar first, to make sure she would have severe
difficulties breathing until fully restrained again, then cuffed her wrists
and elbows behind the back and pulled her off the floor by chains fastened to
the ankles, her thighs stretched in a painful split. As he fetched a heavy
bullwhip, she sobbed bitterly, smelling the bleach drenching it.
The first whiplash traced a crimson stripe on the exposed underside of her
breasts, causing her to bend at the waist while screaming her lungs out. The
second cut through her slit, leaving a thin bleeding laceration while she
arched in howling torment, and the following crisscrossed her exposed flesh,
each administered with ample pauses during which she twitched, crying in pain
as bleach seeped in the cuts. The whipping was long and brutal.
At last, the Southerner lowered her, seized her arms and dragged her to an
elevated platform where a wooden pole stood ominously. The top end was a
tapering cone, dull at the tip but hacked and dented along the sides, and the
pole had creases and ridges at least half of the way down. Kayleen's eyes
filled with tears, because she had experienced what agonies similar devices
could bring, but she could barely walk, much less struggle.
She was made to climb the platform and had to stand on the balls of her feet
as her ankle cuffs were locked in a sliding vise, the dull tip nudging at her
sphincter already. He tightened the bands at her knees, thighs and elbows
while she screamed bitterly, until droplets of blood trickled from under the
edges, which showed glimpses of the bruised, chafed and scraped skin below.
He carefully wound a thin hemp rope under her collar, and pulled both ends up
behind her ears, fastening them to an iron handle dangling from a chain above.
Once satisfied with her restraints, he pulled a lever and the platform gave
under her feet, causing her to slide down the pole while the cone violently
distended her sphincter and penetrated her bowels.
Maybe reflexively, maybe remembering similar torments she had been subjected
to, she managed to clench her thighs around the pole, slowing her descent but
not stopping it. She twitched and screamed in fits of heinous agony as she
found out all the cruel angles of her torment. The violent stretching of her
sphincter had torn it in several places, and the quick succession of creases
and ridges tearing at it had left it in bleeding tatters. Her bowels had been
raked and pierced by dents and splinters, and the incessant burning mounting
inside her meant that the wood was soaked in something caustic.
She continued sliding down slowly, clenching her thighs spasmodically while
her chest heaved and turned in fits of hoarse screaming. Her rectum was being
forcibly straightened inside her, and the burning increased mercilessly. The
dents and splinters raked the sensitive walls, and the torn muscle at the
sphincter was about to be distended again to accommodate another ridge.
She slid down some more, twitching as the pole forced her to shift her stance
to reduce the agony and the wooden surface scraped her thighs. The dull point
had found a turn in her insides and was pushing against something, causing
waves of dull ache to wrack her into trembling screams of wretched woe.
She was in such pain that when her tormentor violently penetrated her vagina,
pushing up with a leather sheathed member engorged by frenzied lust, her cry
was almost indistinguishable from those which preceded it, although during her
protracted violation humiliation and despair fueled her screams.
Her nostrils widened at the smell of a brazier just before she opened her
eyes to see her tormentor grab a fold of her breast flesh with a pair of
pliers and skewer it with a red hot copper needle. She arched in a howl of raw
pain, and her thighs let go for a fraction of second, causing the dull point
to carry her full weight and pierce whatever barrier had stopped its advance,
with a sickening squish which was followed by mad screams of hideous pain.
She had barely managed to clench her thighs again that her tormentor twisted
the skewer inside her wounded breast, demonstrating that it carried dozens of
barbs which brought a howl of harrowing pain from her distended mouth. With a
smile, he tightened the grip of the pliers, causing unthinkable pain to the
flesh being torn by the barbs while in the tight grip of the pliers.
She resumed her harrowing descent, each fraction of an inch punctuated by a
new scream as she twitched and turned from the consuming torment in her bowels
and from the blazes of searing agony wracking her as the point lacerated her
insides. She realized that the rope around her neck had slowly tightened,
supporting a fraction of her weight, because now her thighs managed to prevent
her from sliding further down.
Shortly thereafter, her tormentor pulled on the handle, tightening the cord
around her neck and causing her to gurgle as the lift pulled the pole back
through her wounded insides, revealing that the hacked edges of each ridge
doubled as barbs, especially when her muscles spasmed as she fought for
breath. He slowly dragged her up by her neck, her face contorting in agonies
she could not vent but her thighs twitching spasmodically while droplets of
blood from her sphincter stained her legs and feet.
Once pulled up almost to the point of being free from the pole, she was
abruptly let down just as she was shaking from the harrowing howl of anguished
torment been building up inside her chest. Her sphincter and rectal walls were
torn and scraped again by the dented ridges, and bits of skin were scraped
from the insides of her thighs as they stopped her descent.
A gurgling, pitiful howl wracked her as she twitched spasmodically, sliding
again down the pole as he skewered her other breast with a red hot needle,
twisting it in flesh discolored by the pliers' grip while she arched as much
as the pole rising through her bowels allowed. As her voice waned, she was
splashed with cold, salt water, and a sip from the jug revived her screams.
The harrowing torment was reiterated several times, always twisting new red
hot needles through some part of her body when she managed to suspend her
descent into hell and dragging her up between choked gurgles when she caught
up with the slack in her suspension. As the dull point lacerated her innards,
it reached higher and higher up inside her, tearing wounds which she would die
from in a few hours had this been an ordinary impalement.
When repeated splashes with cold, salt water and generous sips from the jug
failed to revive her screams beyond pitiful wheezing, the blindfolded Lyral
was brought forth and allowed to heal her friend, while the Southerner
replaced the pole with a thicker one, coated with multiple layers of encrusted
salt hacked into jagged, upturned dents and ridges.
Kayleen was dragged to the platform again, screaming in terror at the sight of
the device she was made to straddle, restrained almost the same as before but
for subtle shifts in the placement whose purpose became immediately clear as
her feet failed to find purchase and the conic tip tore her inner labia, while
the jagged edges lacerated the flesh among her howls of pain.
Just as she arched in torment, trembling from the agony of the salt dents
against her tightly clenched thighs, a pan of glowing coals was placed under
her cuffed feet, not close enough for contact but enough for the heat to lick
the soles of her feet and make her twitching on the pole restless.
She arched in a scream of despair when her tormentor penetrated her torn
sphincter, pushing upwards and supporting her without actually lifting her
feet off the flames, grasping her pubic hair from behind while her convulsions
pleasured his manhood. Gurgling meaningless words escaped her mouth until the
violation of her bleeding rectum was finally over.
As she slid down, more jagged ridges lacerated her love channel and the rim of
her vagina in spite of her desperate attempts to slow the progression of the
dull tip, while the salt encrusting the shaft was slowly melting and burning
her insides, freeing wooden splinters which pierced the parched tissues
causing her mouth to distend in howls of wretched anguish as the heat under
her soles made itself felt against her trembling feet.
Her descent continued until the rope around her neck started strangling her,
but unlike before her tormentor allowed her frantic legs some leeway to avoid
the licking heat, the pain in the singed feet enough to keep her awake. Freed
to do his bidding, he grabbed her left nipple between pliers and twisted a red
hot barbed needle inside the gripped feminine flesh, savoring how her visage
contorted in excruciating pain as he twisted it back and forth.
Having let her writhe while tormenting both nipples and clitoris, the latter
with a finely barbed needle which reached to the pole within, he then lifted
her by the rope around her neck, stifling her howl into a fit of desperate
gurgles as the movement caused the tip of the needle to teeter against the
surface of the pole and the barbs to trash the blistered flesh with jerks
which caused blood to sputter from the tip of the twitching feminine nub just
as the ridges caused howls to burst from her mouth.
When she was finally dropped, the ridges on the hellish pole ripped the cuts
in the rim of her vagina again, causing her head to jerk upwards in a gut
wrenching howl of abysmal torment. She resumed her screaming descent, and when
her soles felt the heat of the coals again her legs twitched and she shook in
atrocious pain as her cervix was ripped through by the dull point.
The torture was reiterated several times but, unlike with her rectum, each
time she was dropped the tip followed a different path before reaching the
cervix, repeatedly lacerating her insides with wounds which required Lyral's
intervention while Kayleen twitched in screaming agony.
The repeated lifting and dropping had pushed the teetering tip of the needle
transfixing her clitoris somewhat back, but at the price of having the barbs
shred the feminine flesh mercilessly, scraping a wound which healing could not
address as long as the needle tore through it back and forth, wrenching
pitched screams of unabated torment from her hoarse throat.
Each time she was lifted, her eyes went blank as the rope choked her throat
and pain burst from her womb while the ridges traveled back through her
wounded insides, scraping the tissue inflated by the burning caustic while she
lacked even the breath for venting her agony. Fire invaded her lungs and
throat while her body spasmed and her vaginal muscles reflexively clutched the
instrument of their own agony just as it shred them mercilessly.
After dropping her dozens of times, he stopped her in mid descent by keeping
the chain short and started threading a knotted cord through the shredded rim
of her vagina, a cord which burned from the unknown venom it was soaked with,
and waited for the shredded inner labia to swell painfully before resuming her
torment, smiling lewdly at the renewed intensity of her wretched screams.
Once her womb was ruptured and the tip tore through her stomach, the expert
hand of her tormentor guided her slow, screaming descent into hell, repeatedly
drenching her in cold, salt water to keep her awake. As she slowly slid down
the pole, the tip started bulging above her stomach, and horrid bruises burst
from within her when she was lifted and dropped again and again as he tried to
drive the pole up her esophagus, counting on the melting of the salt crust to
bring the girth that had torn her vagina open to lesser proportions.
Smiling cruelly, he continued lifting and dropping her, short stunts of less
than a foot which gained less than inch each time, while her face turned red
and then blue as the pole compressed her trachea. Lyral was sobbing at her
friend's feet, unable to see and hear but hideously aware of the agonies of
her friend whenever her lips were forced against Kayleen's bleeding thighs.
Kayleen's feet continued flailing in spasmodic agony as the heat had peeled
her soles raw, but the coals had also slowly heated the inside of the pole
which was now charring her from within, smoking here and there, revealing red
hot iron spikes whose burning cuts caused her to shrivel like a paper doll on
a spit, her voice wheezing in frenzies of pitiful shrieking which shook her
convulsing body from toe to mouth.
When the Southerner guided the tip to protrude from her open mouth, the blood
on top bubbled while her screams had turned to a wretched gurgle of demented
agony, her feet spasmodically rattling the irons at her ankles and her fingers
curling and clenching under the splashes of cold, salt water drenching her,
while her body shook and trembled impaled on the fuming pole which ran it
through, the old man was not done yet. Pulling on the thread around her inner
lips, he brought her wheezing form another inch down, until a crown of jutting
red hot spikes pierced her labia causing her twitches to become more
spasmodic. He then sat down below her, his manhood hard under the robes as he
savored the elixir of her descent into deeper and deeper hells.
Lyral was allowed to heal her friend briefly, then dragged away as the
torturers closed the door behind them, leaving Kayleen convulsing on the pole,
plunged in the near darkness of a torture chamber echoing of her own pitched,
harrowing screams, lit only by the coals placed under her feet, whose reddish
light did not reach the shadows where the silent corpse of the former wizard
stood motionless. Zhorun found solace in her agonies and yet could never be
satisfied, as the most harrowing torments always seemed inadequate to him
after the fact. His mind went to past tortures, reveling in how they could
have been made more excruciating.
The salt crust was melting inside her, causing the caustic brine to burn her
parched insides while protracted exposure was bringing the abraded tissue to
swell, starting from the labia and the shredded vaginal rim, making her slide
more excruciating by the minute and fanning the agony behind her howls.
The ridge of embedded iron spikes, red hot under the bubbling crust, had not
completely stopped her descent by hooking her swollen labia, and thereafter
whenever she sought a moment of respite for her charred soles, the spikes
would rake the swollen flesh while she convulsed in gurgling agony.
Her twitching anguish continued in a litany of restless screaming, an horrid,
protracted nightmare whose length she could not gauge, an apparently endless
torment which kept her convulsing in excruciating pain under Zhorun's silent
gaze while her howls echoed under the vaults of the torture chamber.
When the torches returned, she vaguely felt Lyral's lips on her belly just as
Grod's strong hands lifted her from the pole, her agonies so overwhelming that
even her friend's soothing touch could not calm her convulsed jerks of pain.
"I cannot ... take ..." croaked Kayleen's broken voice. Her awareness ebbed
under waves of abysmal pain, and the pall of dread often clenched its grip on
her resolve. Had she believed that conceding defeat would have really stopped
the torture, the tatters of her resolve would have been too few and too far
between to stop her from doing so.
Lyral, still gagged, managed to take her friend's head between her arms, as
awkwardly as the wrists tied behind the back entailed, and cuddle her, sobbing
in unison and attempting to deliver more healing to her dying friend.
After Kayleen's horrid wounds receded, Grod dragged her on the floor near the
ominous wooden mass of the rack. She twitched, her legs recoiling while a
hoarse scream tore from her mouth, as her back found spikes on the wooden
planks. No change of irons occurred, and the chains of the rack were fastened
to the same heavy irons she had worn for days.
Her delirious mind returned to her first time on the rack, when Grod had been
afraid of cutting into her blood vessels at the wrists. Now she wore cuffs
that had been screwed savagely tight, enough to chafe and cut the skin, with
studs inside which had dug bloody grooves of agony in her flesh, although not
where major blood vessels ran. The agony at her wrists and ankles had been the
bitter companion of her relentless torment, and yet it looked tame before the
horrid torments being heaped on her.
Instead of the leather bands he had used to prevent the rack from breaking her
spine, he produced a thin, barbed chain, which he wound under her shoulders
and through her crotch while she convulsed in pain. The chains cut through the
folds of her sex, two outside and two inside the labia, crushing a clitoris
cruelly distended by a clamp tightened with iron pliers.
He cranked the rack until her body was taut, splendid again after Lyral's
power had restored it almost fully, except at the elbows, waist and knees
where the tight iron rings dug into chafed and bleeding skin. The serrated
rings around the bases of her heaving breasts made them bulge, but not enough
to hide the gashes dug in the soft skin which had been another source of
uninterrupted pain for days. A shiver coursed through the splendid stretched
body when she saw Grod retrieve a red hot piton from a brazier.
The knifeblade piton had an almond cross section and a cloven head, which did
not hinder Grod as he hammered it through her forearm while she screamed in
mad pain. He expertly slid the blade between the bones of her forearm without
breaking them, slowly driving the implement through amidst squirts of blood
and smoke as the wound was scorched by the heat.
The serrated edges made the agony all the more excruciating, and Kayleen
convulsed and screamed, frothing at the mouth in pain well beyond what wounds
wrought by blades of like size had caused. Grod continued hammering it until
it pushed through and stuck in the wood. The hammering stopped only when the
piton had been deeply driven in the wood, but resumed immediately with another
through her other forearm before she caught her breath.
After both pitons were driven into the wood, the upper roller of the rack was
cranked, pulling at her wrists and causing her stretched arms to be pulled
against the serrated edge of the pitons, slowly tearing twin bloody gashes
through her stretched muscles and scraping the bone while she convulsed amidst
pitched screams of deranged agony.
The torment was repeated several times, cranking the rack a few notches more
each time so that the edge of the gash would be cut again each time, causing
her to arch in howling agony as much as her restraints allowed. After
splashing her with cold water and letting her sip from the jug, another pair
of pitons was driven into her legs, again sliding the implements obliquely
between the bones and avoiding major vessels while she trembled and shook,
banging her head against the wood while pain contorted her features in
reiterated frenzies of demented howling.
Grod moved to the lower roller, cranking it to tear the pitons through her
legs just as he had done with her forearms, progressively increasing the pull
to add the agony of racking proper to the shredding of her twitching leg
muscles while she howled in uninterrupted woe. Cold water and the jug became
the only moments of respite in the hellish tug of war being wrought through
her limbs, especially since Grod started operating both rollers, pulling in
opposite directions and releasing either in turn.
She tried to twist away when Grod put a piton against her ribcage, but she was
stretched taut and could only scream and tremble while the red hot blade was
driven between her ribs, expertly avoiding the lungs but tearing through
muscles taut from the tension of the rack. The spiked chains had dug through
her crotch bloody gashes of searing agony, the spikes tore at the muscles of
her back and when he cranked the rollers untold agonies surged from her
ribcage as the serrated blade scraped the ribs while she convulsed in demented
frenzies of excruciating torment.
As the blades cooled, the agony came from the shredding of the stretched
muscles and, especially in the case of those braiding her ribcage, the
scraping of the bone by the serrated edges. Lyral was brought forward to heal
her friend several times, allowing her only the time to mend the worst wounds
while Kayleen convulsed in uninterrupted agony, bleeding profusely in spite of
the repeated healing. As more blades were driven through her ribcage, each
scream became a hell unto itself and broke in fits of desperate, choking woe
which shook her chest and reverberated through her limbs.
Grod proceeded to encase her bulging breasts in an ominous wooden vise,
screwing it tight until her screams returned as the constricted flesh turned
purple within the wooden jaws, and then drove a red hot blade through the
squeezed flesh, ignoring the shrill screams of pleading woe surging from her
torn mouth as blood squirted from the laceration and hammering the blade until
it stuck securely in the wooden device.
When he operated the roller again, the hot blade bent and slowly cut through
her breast flesh, tearing a horrid gash which pulsated while her mouth almost
dislocated in inarticulate screams of demented agony as the shredding of her
breast matched the torment in her limbs and ribcage.
The rack was momentarily released to allow another blade to pierce her other
breast, and then cranked back slowly while she howled again in pitiful
torment, her eyes wide in agony and terror at the sight of her own shredded
breasts being repeatedly cut through as another blade was slowly introduced in
her bleeding breast flesh before the rack was released and then cranked back
while her howls of excruciating agony echoed in the chamber.
The torture continued slowly, pausing for splashes with cold, salt water but
stretching her writhing form either from above or from below, or heating the
pitons again with white hot pliers before the pull dragged them another
fraction of an inch in the gashes which alternated between being cauterized
raw from the heat and being sawed through again by the serrated edges while
Kayleen's head trashed left and right in hoarse screams of deranged agony.
Lyral was brought forth, blindfolded and weeping, and turned back so that her
hands could feel for her friend's quivering breasts and provide enough healing
to stem the blood loss. Kayleen's blue eyes barely focused on her friend's
pale figure when the process began, as if from far away.
"Make it ... stop, please. No more" pleaded her torn lips.
Lyral was immediately dragged away and a thick wooden pole was placed against
Kayleen's vagina while the rack was cranked a few notches, dragging her labia
along the roughly hacked surface of its tip while the pitons drew now blood
from the wounds in her limbs and breasts, scraping her ribs while she writhed
in atrocious torment and screamed mindlessly through the foam in her mouth.
The roller above her head was released a few notches, causing her stretched
limbs to snap and another howl to wrack her as the muscles contracted onto the
serrated edges shredding themselves even more while she stiffened from the
horrendous pain in her ribs. The roller under her feet was cranked the same
number of notches, pulling her further down onto the wooden intruder while her
mind returned to similar torments inflicted on her during the preceding days
and contrasted them with the added agony of the pitons.
She was splashed with cold, salt water again and then the pitons were heated
again, lingering on those shredding her disfigured breasts while her howls
rose frantically and alternating with stretching her trembling limbs one notch
at a time until the pole had torn open her vagina and bulged visibly inside
her womb, scraping her innards while she writhed spasmodically as each breath
wrought unspeakable agonies through her scraped ribs.
The contents of the jug were poured down her throat and then another piton
was driven through her labia, searing them and nailing them to the pole while
she stiffened and howled in wheezing agony, unable to vent her anguish as her
ribcage could not gather enough hair without shrinking from the atrocious pain
of the pitons braiding the scraped bones.
Her tormentor started cranking both rollers, one notch each, stretching her
already taut body and hammering new pitons through her labia and the folds of
her clitoris, trapping it between two red hot serrated edges. Each crank of
the roller below her pulled it further along, and he used heavy pliers to bend
the pitons back against her pubic bone.
As the pull continued, the tips of the pitons pierced the skin and started
scraping her pubic bone while her clitoris was forced against the cleft of the
two bent pitons crossing, dragging the sensitive flesh between as if between
serrated scissors which her tormentor took care to heat repeatedly.
The flesh at her joints started showing bruises as the muscle tore under the
relentless pull, slowly nearing dislocation while being yanked and tugged by
her spasmodic jerks as howls of unremitting agony wracked her drenched body
and blood squirted from her wounded limbs and shredded breasts.
Her eyes rolled and foam bubbled in her mouth while the atrocious pain fanned
occasional hoarse screams from a wheezing throat, and notch after notch her
joints were brought on the brink of dislocation ... and left there. She was
given more syrup from the jug, and then Grod simply continued heating the
pitons with white hot pliers, lingering until one was red hot and unspeakable
pain surged again in her desperate screams.
On the brink of dislocation, the slightest movement pulled her arm or leg out
of its socket for a brief moment, but the traction of muscles and ligaments
pulled it back, although only after the pain of dislocation had wracked her
stretched body into screaming her excruciating agonies with the little voice
she still had. This traction ran counter to the pitons piercing her limbs, and
shredded her muscles some more each time, forcing her to twitch and pull some
more each time in order to redress the devastating torment of dislocation.
Unfortunately for her, this also caused the pitons to shred her breasts even
further, scrape her ribs and pubic bone and saw along her clitoris, now
trapped between the serrated edges and stretched upwards, bloodily scraped raw
by the repeated dragging against the tiny red hot teeth. Her agony grew as her
voice waned, causing her horrendous screams to alternate between wheezing
shrieks of pitiful anguish and fits of choked screaming as pain coursed
through her stretched body and inside her sunken, twitching joints.
After being wounded and slowly shredded, her muscles one by one reached the
point where they could no longer pull back her limbs, and the limbs were torn
out of their sockets while her visage contorted in unspeakable agony as the
muscles trembled from the protracted pain. Her tormentor continued heating the
pitons, keeping her screaming until all four of her limbs were dislocated by
her spasmodic convulsions and wretched howls rose again from her torn lips.
The torture continued while she howled in mindless agony, writhing and jerking
spasmodically as the pitons shredding her clitoris or scraping her ribs were
heated repeatedly, until the emptiness in her eyes and the hollow echo of her
wheezing screams suggested to Grod that she was almost beyond pain, enough to
make further torture pointless.
Lyral was brought forth to heal her again, and then Grod extricated her from
the rack, exchanging a glance with the silent corpse before continuing. In
ordinary circumstances, the victim should have been allowed to rest in order
for the memory of the agony to play in her mind and erode her resolve while
her body recovered enough to bring before her the prospect of giving up to
avoid farther torture, but there had been nothing ordinary in this woman's
ordeal and Zhorun's orders had been explicit.
Her tormentor cuffed Kayleen's left ankle to a chain dangling from the
ceiling, while the right ankle was fastened to a ring in the floor. Her right
hand was pulled up behind her while she screamed incoherently until he managed
to tighten a thumbscrew onto her left toe and right thumb, stretching her
dislocated limbs while she howled from the excruciating pain.
He bent her left arm behind her back and pulled it down until he caught it in
a thumbscrew fastened to the ring constricting her leg under the knee. He
then started pulling her left leg up, watching her writhe from the horrid
stretching of her dislocated limbs, while Zhorun's gaze inspected the sunken
flesh at the joints as they twitched in abysmal pain.
Grod placed a stout spike under the ball of her right foot, adjusting the
chain so that she could relieve the stretching of her legs in the excruciating
split, which only her dislocated joints made possible, by standing with her
full weight on the spike. He finally tied a bundle of stinging tree branches
to her right elbow, so that they rubbed through her crotch.
Her tormentors left her thus, straining to stand on the ball of her feet to
ease the abysmal agony of having her dislocated hip joints stretched, and
screaming hoarsely when her muscles failed her nevertheless. The spike soon
became slippery as blood trickled from the gash ground under her foot, and the
branches caused her to convulse when their touch burned her feminine parts.
She continued crying and screaming in the dark, a feast for Zhorun's silent
enjoyment, slowly gyrating on the spike while her body trembled from the
repeated waves of wretched torment. Her mind was spinning in nightmarish agony
and it took her long to stop begging for Lyral's touch, although she knew that
her friend had been taken elsewhere.
When they returned, she had barely managed to recognize the Southerner when
the bundle was removed and she reeled under the violent penetration of her
swollen vagina by his leather sheathed member, in a rut of frenzied lust which
her desperate screams did nothing to shorten. She was then taken down and
Lyral was briefly allowed to heal her again, but this did not lift the pall of
despair from her soul. She trembled and begged incoherently when the gnarly
hands of the Southerner dragged her to the corner where the pyramid awaited.
"Our Whore Queen has become much more malleable", cackled the Southerner.
"If only the fools dying in her name could see her now", spat Zhorun.
Kayleen's pleading stopped, but the remark that once would have pricked her
pride now simply added to her humiliation. Teetering on the brink of collapse,
she barely held onto herself as the Southerner fastened her wrists and elbows
together behind her. After cuffing together ankles and knees, he placed a vise
between her thighs and fastened a number of chains to the iron band at her
waist and her other restraints, which he then made use of to lift her and
deposit her on the pyramid so that the tip distended her sphincter and
penetrated her bowels as he skillfully caused her weight to bear on the
hellish implement while she convulsed from the pain in her dislocated joints.
He then produced a collection of jars, most crawling with various kinds of
ants with disproportionately large mandibles and one full of a fine yellow
powder. He pulled her chains so that her soles were at eye level, then waited
for her screams to subside before fetching an ant and dousing it with the
powder, which apparently was rather sticky.
He immediately placed the ant against the sole of her left foot, just as the
insect started fuming and burning. She cried in pain as the sole was burned
red and then crimson, but her spasmodic twitching added to the torment from
her joints without dislocating the insect which, burning slowly, started
biting madly the singed flesh as if to dig through.
Her convulsions turned to a rattling frenzy as the burning insect gnawed into
the scorched flesh, while her head shook frantically left and right as she
screamed herself hoarse from the abysmal torment. Even the scraping of her
bowels by the wooden tip and the jolts of white hot agony from her dislocated
hips and shoulders paled before the horrid torment burrowing through her.
The ant finally died after burning over the skin and deep inside the wound in
an excruciatingly protracted agony, but another was placed on her other foot
and her torment was reinstated amidst her rising howls of desperate woe. The
ant sought instinctively the wound left by the spike, leaving a fiery trail on
her sole which turned red and then crimson as it burned from the residues of
yellow powder. The cords in her neck strained under her pitched howl as the
ant burrowed in the wound, searing it with the fuming flame in its mindless
search for safety from the fire consuming it.
When the second ant died, she was splashed with cold, salt water and allowed
to sip from the jug, but then another ant was let loose on her supple left
leg, proving that the ants had no problem clinging to her trembling skin,
searing it thoroughly while the insect crawled madly along the limb before
sinking its jaws in the tenderized flesh and ripping with mindless desperation
while her own jaw almost dislocated as howling screams of abysmal pain tore
through her throat and echoed under the vaults of the torture chamber.
Lyral shook and cried desperately, reeling at her friend's desperate howls as
if physically overwhelmed by the agonies she endured. Slowly, one after
another, dozens of ants were brought to bear against her twitching limbs,
tracing long crimson trails of scorched agony on the perfect skin and leaving
ugly charred wounds where the insects had died ripping through the flesh.
Lyral could not see the convulsed twitching, the hands opening and closing
spasmodically, clutching at thin air, the chest heaving and buckling in
restless woe or the blood trickling down the pyramid, but could imagine all of
this and much worse from the uninterrupted screams of excruciating torment.
The Southerner lavished his hellish attentions on Kayleen's thighs, bringing
ant after ant to bear onto the soft skin under the supple, twitching limbs,
drinking the agony shooting through her clear blue eyes when they bulged from
the abysmal pain of an ant burrowing through scorched flesh as a howl of pure
torment shook her contorted visage. He occasionally splashed her with cold
water, but otherwise continued the torment while she screamed herself hoarse.
He then screwed the vise between her thighs open, pulling them apart and out
of their sockets enough to leave a cleft in between and send her in a frenzy
of screaming woe from the excruciating pain in her hips. The next ant was put
between the curls of her mons, which caught fire as the insect started running
around mindlessly while she convulsed spasmodically, screaming in choked gasps
through the froth at the corners of her mouth. Her body stiffened and arched
in a protracted bellow as the insect found her vagina and entered, bringing
the fiery trail inside her love channel and up her womb.
Lyral prayed desperately for her friend's screams to pause, even for a moment,
because the agony of this ant lasted much longer and wrought fiery torments
throughout Kayleen's womb for its entire duration. No sooner had her screams
subsided that another ant was stuck under her clitoris, searing it amidst her
howls before seeking refuge in her womb again and reiterating a long frenzy of
convulsing jerks punctuated by desperate screams of hellish pain.
The horrid torment continued while she twitched spasmodically on the blood
soaked tip of the pyramid, arching and buckling while the mad ants burned her
labia and love channel in their desperate rushes to a grisly end inside her
womb, wreaking protracted agonies throughout her insides while the neverending
torment of her dislocated joints waxed and waned alongside her howling jerks.
She was offered the jug again, and then pulled up and left to hang screaming
from her dislocated arms twisted behind her back while her tormentor hacked
the wooden tip of the pyramid, tearing thick splinters and deep dents with a
heavy woodcarving tool before repositioning the restraints on her legs so that
he could spread them in a painful split and lower her on the pyramid with the
gaping opening of her vagina engaging the tip, slowly letting her weight bring
it deeper inside her in spite of her twitches and screams.
A chain fastened the iron band constricting her waist to a ring in the floor,
and her legs were spread even more, causing her to jerk and twitch from the
agony in the hip joints and the scraping of her singed innards as splinters
and slivers lodged in the scorched walls of her love channel. When he circled
her and pushed his leather sheathed member into her torn, bleeding sphincter,
the despair in her voice made Lyral collapse in a weeping heap.
Kayleen's violation continued in a frenzy of vicious thrusts, hideous screams
from the jarring of the dislocated joints which twitched and teetered under
the stretched skin and blood squirting from her vagina as slivers and dents
cut her singed innards. He lingered inside even after his lust was spent,
savoring her twitches and the clutching of his member by her strained muscles,
then pulled off and placed an ant near the torn sphincter, waiting for her to
buckle as the flame seared the delicate muscle and then scream while the
insect climbed inside her to renew the agonies visited inside her.
More fiery ants were set loose on her ass cheeks and inside her bowels, always
pausing in between to let her bear the brunt of the torment to its full extent
and occasionally splashing her with cold, salt water or letting her sip from
the jug to renew her sagging strength. Lyral was brought forth once to heal
her when the blood flowing from her scraped vagina seemed excessive, with a
large splinter piercing it from within and jutting through a gash just under
her left labia, but one of a few ripping through the distended rim.
With cackling glee, her tormentor nudged an ant under her left breast, just
past the chafing caused by the serrated ring constricting the base. An
hitherto unknown level of torment was wrought on her when the flame seared the
soft underside of her mammary, only to be followed by the ripping from the
frantic jaws seeking an impossible escape. Her head snapped in a howl of
abysmal pain which her voice could not sustain and broke in gasping screams
fueled by the continuing agony burrowing through the firm flesh of her breast.
He moved to the other breast before she stopped convulsing from the rippling
agony, watching her writhe in the vain attempt to prevent him from doing it
again and then grabbing her by the curls of her pubic hair to pull her further
down on the wooden pillar of her agony while the flesh of her breast was being
scorched and ripped by the frenzied insect.
Pausing occasionally to drench in cold, salt water or let her sip from the
jug, he kept setting loose the flaming ants on her breasts, mostly on the
undersides before adjusting her restraints to force her to recline so that the
ants could course through the full extent of her mounds while she screamed
from the pain in her scorched breasts but also from the wooden tip bulging
inside her and causing some splinters to jut through bleeding gashes in her
pierced womb which each convulsed jerk tore wider.
Lost in ecstasy at her agonies, he continued the torture of her breasts until
dozens of dead insects had dug their fiery grave in her flesh, licking his
lips at the sight of the proud globes quivering while she howled in demented
pain through the foam at the corners of her mouth. He fetched a pair of small
pliers and savagely distended a nipple to cut a gash at the base, wide enough
to push the twitching mandibles of an ant inside just as it caught fire.
Kayleen's jerk caused blood to squirt from the wounds pierced by the splinters
in her crotch and belly as she stiffened and arched spasmodically from the
agony as her nipple was slowly roasted in the flame while the frenzied ant bit
the piece of feminine flesh tearing its way through. Her pitched screams kept
shaking her heaving chest while the tiny mandibles ripped minuscule nips of
scorched, oozing flesh in the frantic attempt to escape the fire but only
managing to bring it deeper inside the excruciating wound.
Lyral could not believe how Kayleen's voice managed to rise even higher when
the Southerner pulled on her clitoris, cut a gash at the base and stuck a tiny
ant in, causing it to sear again the heart of a femininity Kayleen had been
brutally discovering as a prime source of agony. The tiny insect ripped
mercilessly at the sensitive flesh, making so little progress that when it
died there was room for more to follow, protracting Kayleen's excruciating
torment into an hellish nightmare whose end was nowhere in sight.
He doused her with salt water and let her sip from the jug before returning
his diabolical attentions to her neglected nipple, which soon twitched in the
flame consuming another ant biting it mercilessly. Another ant was then placed
on her previously scorched nipple, wrenching new screams from her frothing
mouth, and then more tiny ants were placed in cuts around her rim or though
her labia, causing her to twitch spasmodically on the pyramid which her
buckling had turned into a heap of wooden splinters, one of which her
tormentor had managed to drive up to stab at her cervix.
Kayleen continued screaming even after being lowered to the floor, consumed by
agonies which wracked through her chest and burst in wheezing screams of raw
torment, and when he cuffed her elbows and wrists behind her back after
pulling her up from the floor by spreading her legs with chains pulling at her
ankles from the ceiling resumed her incoherent pleading for mercy.
After a quick glance at Zhorun, the Southerner pulled savagely on her left
nipple and cut another gash at its base, placing another flaming ant to sear
the upper side of the nipple which had been somewhat spared thus far, and
repeating the torment on her other nipple shortly thereafter while she still
buckled in convulsed jerks of howling torment.
"Please ... enough. Mercy!" she croaked once she managed to catch enough
breath before a vicious clamp was tightened on her distended clitoris.
"No more, I can't ... take," wheezed her hoarse voice as Zhorun neared.
"If she concedes defeat, Master, may I claim the Priestess as mine instead of
the prize ?" asked the Southerner hurriedly, like a petulant child being
deprived of his favorite toy. A strangled cry of bottomless anguish erupted
behind Lyral's gag, its inarticulate words of despair cutting into Kayleen's
soul just as another ant was cutting through her scorched feminine flesh.
"Do you submit to me, then ?" asked Zhorun's voice, for once booming like a
thunder under the vaults of the torture chamber.
Kayleen hesitated, still shaking from the torment of her clitoris but also
from the weeping anguish coursing through her poor friend's body. She sought
within herself the pride of the former Warrior Queen, the courage which had
carried her through many battles, the resolve to further endure unfathomable
stretches of harrowing torment with no prospect of respite.
Another ant burned her feminine flesh, biting through the charred flesh and
wrenching her from her brief moment of awareness back into the unending
nightmare of her torment. She sought the words to vent her hatred, but they
escaped her as she was swept by waves of searing agony.
"No" she croaked at last, causing the Southerner's lips to curve in a wicked
smile and Zhorun to start. Long tendrils of blue lightning arched from his
gnarled hands and reached her breasts, tracing crimson stripes of smoking
agony and causing her to twitch uncontrollably while her voice waned in a long
speechless scream. The tendrils seared her nipples and clitoris, dozens of
times, until Zhorun gestured the Southerner to continue.
As gash after gash was cut between the curls of Kayleen's pubic hair, each
soon hosted another tiny flaming ant whose heat seared her cruelly distended
clitoris, slowly turning the clamp red hot while her tormentor placed tiny
ants inside the gashes cut in the broiling crimson flesh to watch her stiffen,
arch and buckle in excruciating agony while howls of wretched woe shook her
convulsing body and Lyral kept sobbing and stumbling on the words of a prayer.
When the torture finally had to be suspended, Lyral was brought forth and had
to feel for her friend, gasping when her hands reached her hot, quivering
flesh and the first flow of healing allowed her to perceive the horrid agonies
coursing through her body. She was only allowed a few moments before her
friend was lowered on the floor and a metal bar with a wooden cone on top was
fastened to the bands constricting the base of her thighs and to her ankle
cuffs, adjusting it so that the cone penetrated deeply her bowels, causing her
to scream in renewed anguish. Her arms were pulled down behind her until her
wrists could be fastened between the rings clinched under her knees.
Three crooked iron spreaders were placed in her vagina, one pulling on the
lower cleft and two tearing at the upper corners, distorting it into an
obscene triangle whose border immediately tore where cuts had been ripped in
the rim, bleeding again. Her tormentor tightened vicious jagged clamps on her
nipples and clitoris, pulling their chains to the last ring of a stout chain
dangling from the ceiling which he then pulled until she hung screaming from
her clamped femininity while pliers were used to rip the nails from her toes.
A large bowel full of water was then bolted to the floor under her feet, and
when she was lowered again and attempted to relieve the pull on her feminine
flesh she realized that the water was actually salty as brine, causing her to
jerk her feet up, screaming from the pain of her suspension and the cone
distending her sphincter while the salt burned her bleeding nail beds.
They left her again, forced to inflict on herself the harsh bite of brine to
find respite from the horrid tearing of her scorched nipples and clitoris
while gyrating on the pole in constant pain from the stretching of her
dislocated joints and the scraping of her seared bowels. However she twitched,
however she tried to spare her bleeding nail beds, the scorched flesh of her
nipples and clitoris was torn and scraped by the tiny jaws, causing her to
burst in harsh screams of wretched pain amid bitter moans of helpless anguish.
Zhorun watched her from the shadows, her agony coursing through his loins as
the heat from a fireplace coursed through a traveler finally safe in the inn,
and yet wishing he could enjoy her torment as much as the Southerner did,
wishing he could make her suffer himself, wishing he could have her twitching
in pain on the manhood he had forever lost.
He kept watching her eerie dance with his netherwordly gaze, enjoying the
convulsing agonies and bitter screams of this marionette of pain whose strings
he could pull only through intermediaries, savoring her wretched woe while
time trickled by in a long, dark nightmare of uninterrupted torment.
When the light returned to the room, it was the Easterner who cautiously undid
her restrains after tightening her iron collar on the windpipe. Lyral was
allowed to heal her briefly, and she tried once more to deliver through her
soothing touch something above physical healing, something she could not
define herself but which she felt her friend desperately needed.
Lost in pain, Kayleen recovered her awareness only when, after putting some
implements in a brazier, the Easterner dragged her under a chain dangling from
the ceiling, cuffed her wrists and elbows together behind her back and lifted
her off the floor by her wrists, ignoring her screams from the agony in her
dislocated shoulder joints. He then wound around her twitching body a thin
barbed chain, whose sharp hooks soon ripped tiny wounds through her convulsing
flesh as she rattled her restraints, jerking from the devastating pain in her
torn shoulders.
Her eyes filled with tears when he produced a small red hot blade and a pair
of equally hot pliers, with elongated, flat jaws brimming with tiny spikes
which he used to grab a fold of flesh on her left thigh, slicing it open with
the blade while her screams rose to high heaven in a desperate fit of
gut-wrenching agony.
While her screams trailed off, he used a spoon to scoop a pinch of tiny white
crystals and pour them in the gaping wound, tightening the grip with the
pliers to prevent them from trickling away and then twisting the wounded flesh
between the jaws while she convulsed in demented pain. Her howls continued
unabated while the red hot pliers crushed the tiny rock salt shards inside her
bleeding, scorched wound, grinding them back and forth and twisting the flesh
through unthinkable depths of protracted, excruciating torment.
When he finally let go, she continued twitching and rattling her chains
between coughing screams of miserable anguish, her chest heaving in bitter
sobs at the prospect of more to follow. Pain exploded in her left arm when the
pliers tightened on a fold of her stretched muscle, and then rocked her when
the red hot blade cut through the taut fibers amidst her pitched howls of
unabated torment. Her ears picked up, among the echoes of her own screams,
Lyral's soft voice, singing an old country song she used to sing in the lulls
between a battle and the next, when they discussed what would be of their
lives once Zhorun's tyranny had been lifted.
The wretched agony of a thousand needles bursting inside her stretched muscles
cut through her recollections like an hurricane, howling in despair and
filling her mouth like molten lead before surging in raucous howls of
gut-wrenching anguish. The pliers ground the tiny shards into recesses of
twitching flesh she never suspected a wound could hide, and the memory of
happier times wavered under the relentless torment wracking her mind.
The Easterner grabbed a fold of her left ass cheek, cutting through the soft
crease between buttock and thigh, through skin already scorched by the ants,
up to a point where one had found its demise. The horrid pain of the
constricted, scorched flesh being sliced through prevented her from
appreciating the care her tormentor used to stay clear of major blood vessels,
although the wounds bled profusely until the crushed salt inside mingled with
blood to form a crust which left the wound open and hurting but reduced blood
loss considerably. Her restraints allowed her ample room to buckle and twitch
for the enjoyment of Zhorun's eyes, and her spasmodic jerks raked the hooks
of the thin barbed chain encircling her all over her bleeding body.
Her soles were next, savagely sliced open, the grip of the pliers fighting the
flailing of her strong legs while she howled in demented agony and the smell
of charred flesh lingered as the torture was mercilessly protracted. The agony
was made worse by twisting the pliers back and forth, or left and right,
forcing her to arch and buckle in spasmodic torment and wreak further agony on
her dislocated joints to lessen the devastating pain of the shards being
repeatedly ground inside scorched flesh.
Another wound was cut in her other thigh, and her torturer hung with his full
weight on the pliers to add his weight to the torment of her torn shoulders
and drag the crushed salt shards down the length of the wound while blood
squirted from the constricted flesh and harrowing screams of demented agony
surged from her foaming mouth. Cutting across the straining muscle of a limb
always resulted in harrowing pain, and her tormentor availed himself of this
opportunity over and over until Lyral had to be brought forth to stop her
friend from dying from excessive blood loss.
After drenching Kayleen with cold, salt water and bringing the jug to her
lips, the Easterner reached for her firm buttocks again and cut, slicing
through a fold of firm flesh an inch at a time and using the blade to scoop
shards into the newly cut wound, progressing slowly amidst her raucous
screams until he reached the cleft between her buttocks and then proceeding to
crush the salt inside the bleeding cut. This was but the first of many
harrowing gashes cut through her buttocks, experimenting several variations of
the torment which all resulted in desperate shrieks of harrowing pain and
spasmodic convulsions in the raking embrace of the barbed chain.
She was lowered on the floor and then stretched between chains leading to four
pillars, her full weight hanging on her dislocated hip and shoulder joints
torn mercilessly while she hung lewdly exposed in mid air, her head sagging as
a cry rattled her torn mouth. Then the Easterner grabbed a fold of flesh on
her left side, and cut deep enough to scrape a rib while she rattled her
chains from the unimaginable agony her convulsions wrought through her joints.
After stuffing the wound with salt shards, he crushed them with the red hot
pliers, positioning the jaws so that the shards would scrape the flesh from
the bone and grind the bone itself, a horrid refinement of bone scraping which
wracked excruciating agonies through Kayleen's heaving chest and kept her
stiffening and arching between wheezing howls of wretched torment and
convulsed jerks, mercilessly jarring her dislocated joints
The torment alternated between ribs on either side, pausing only to splash her
with cold water whose salt added little to her screaming agonies, or to bring
the jug to her torn lips, unable to articulate as they trembled and frothed
from depths of pain she could not fathom. Somehow she still realized that the
syrupy liquid fed to her was meant to protract and intensify her agony, but
she craved it, hating this telltale sign of how her will had been broken.
Lyral was brought forth again when the white of several ribs showed under the
bleeding gashes, still praying under her breath for her screaming friend,
whose spirit was being mercilessly crushed. When the healing process allowed
Lyral to feel her friend's plight, she could not help but sob in horror.
"Kayleen, angels of heaven ..." she whimpered behind her gag.
Her friend's voice reached Kayleen in spite of all odds, possibly because of
the healing process, a feeble anchor between the waves of an ocean of pain in
which she was being drowned. She had withstood day after day of atrocious
torture, brutal rape and unrelenting suffering, first through her own resolve
and then with the strength lent by Lyral's power, but what remained of her
resolve had been savagely eroded and Lyral was beyond her reach, healing her
body but unable to soothe her weary soul, leaving her alone with pain.
She tried to whisper something just as her friend was pulled away and then a
howl surged from her mouth as the pliers caught a fold of her breast and
seared it for the blade to slowly slice open, followed by more pitiful screams
as salt shards were poured in the bleeding wound and crushed inside while
white hot agony blazed through her suspended, convulsing body.
Her breasts were slowly shredded, alternating between them so that she could
better sustain the agony, slicing horrid wounds and twisting them savagely
while the salt inside wrought unspeakable torment through her writhing body
and demented howls coursed through her bleeding chest. The crust formed by the
searing jaws did not hold when a fresh wound was savaged nearby, and returning
to open wounds to break the crust and renew the agony slowly became obligatory
as wound after wound striped her proud breasts.
Her mind raced through halls echoing with her own screams as her tormentor
moved between her legs and grabbed a fold of her pubic mound, cutting through
with excruciating slowness while the red hot tip exposed the pubic bone. She
had always known that it would come to this, that her femininity would be next
and that more horrid torments would descend on her, almost reading the mind of
her torturer as he poured tiny salt shards in the wound and then closed the
red hot jaws over it, viciously crushing them onto her scorched flesh and
pubic bone while she arched in a protracted howl of demented pain.
With exquisite slowness, he cut another gash in her mound and repeated the
torment, wracking unspeakable agonies through her body and repeatedly crushing
and twisting the salt in her wounded flesh, pulling against her convulsed
jerks and grinding bone while she stiffened in long screams of inhuman agony.
After protracting the torment at leisure, he moved the pliers to her left
nipple and sliced it open from tip to the areola, sliding shards in and then
crushing the nub of feminine flesh between red hot serrated jaws while her
howls rose desperately under the vaults of the torture chamber. He splashed
her with cold, salt water before repeating the torture on her other nipple and
clitoris, and then splashed her again before cross cutting each cut again
while she arched and jerked in atrocious agony, screaming hoarsely in fits
of hopeless woe as her mouth almost tore from the effort.
The red hot jaws repeatedly crushed the bloody crust inside the slashed nubs
of feminine flesh in protracted fits of excruciating torment which shook her
body almost to the point of tearing her limbs off her dislocated joints, while
desperate howls of wretched agony consumed her wheezing voice which only
unspeakable waves of pain could fan beyond a wheezing moan.
New howls echoed in the torture chamber when the jaws closed on the labia
being sliced through, and then on the rim of the vagina being cut and twisted
while the salt shards found little purchase and the torment was attempted over
and over while she convulsed uninterruptedly, screaming in inhuman pain.
Even when the jaws allowed her an instant of respite, unspeakable agony surged
white hot from her stretched joints and burned from her exposed ribs and
scorched breast wounds, drowning her in a maelstrom of anguish which she tried
to escape by calling upon her friend, begging for her touch, straining to
reach her beyond the walls of hellish agony crumbling on her from all sides.
The pliers closed repeatedly on her nipples, searing the scorched flesh again
and scraping it while she tried in vain to listen for Lyral's answers to her
inarticulate pleas. She was in such pain that she could not have answered any
of the questions she was supposedly being tortured for, and her mind reeled in
the vain search of any answer that would stop the pain, although Lyral had
guessed that she was being tortured for Zhorun's pleasure only.
When the jaws scorched her shredded clitoris and the encrusted salt pierced
her sensitive femininity again, her eyes rolled over as excruciating agonies
tore through her frothing mouth in piercing howls of wretched torment. Blood
squirted from the torn petals of the nub as they were crushed onto the shards
inside by red hot serrated jaws which peeled and scraped the sensitive tissue
as the pliers were savagely twisted left and right, forcing her writhing body
to arch and buckle in spasmodic agony, rattling the chains pulling her limbs
while gut-wrenching screams of demented pain shook her dangling body.
When Lyral was brought forth again, she gasped when the healing revealed to
her the extent of the agonies wrought on her screaming friend's dangling body.
Although the empathy of healing was no substitute for direct inspection, she
shuddered at the thought that Kayleen's nipples and clitoris had been shredded
and burned even beyond her ability to restore them, and doubled her efforts to
bring some respite to her screaming friend's flesh.
Well before Kayleen's wounds were completely healed, Lyral's comforting touch
was abruptly taken away. As she was thrown onto he ground, Kayleen cried in
bitter despair, still unable to articulate the pleads she could not prevent
from wracking her will as the thought of further torments loomed before her.
Her wrists and elbows were cuffed together, and her legs were next.
The torn corners of her vagina were stretched by crooked hooks which distended
the bottom cleft and the top corners while she was forced to stand on the
balls of her feet by clamps savagely tightened on her peeled and scorched
nipples and attached to a chain from the ceiling. A ridged meat hook was
pushed up her bowels and attached to thumbscrews clinching her thumbs, and a
clamp on her clitoris forced her to bend her knees as it was pulled down and
fastened to a ring in the floor, stretching her partially healed breasts by
the nipples and forcing her in a precarious position which brought about a
wheezed cry of pain and despair as she realized how this restraint would
torment her in the subsequent hours.
Even as her tormentor left, plunging her in darkness, her fears materialized as
her agonizing legs gave and unbearable pain enveloped her nipples as most of
her weight rested on them, causing her to jerk up with a bitter scream and
then shudder as white hot agony shot from the clamp savaging her clitoris. Any
position she found entailed various degrees of pain in the nubs of feminine
flesh and, much to the delight of the silently observing Zhorun, could not be
maintained for long. She had ran out of tears, and even of screams, but the
hoarse, wheezing noises which wracked her torn mouth in the subsequent hours
proved satisfying for the silent spectator of her torment.
Even when the agony from the numbed bits of tormented feminine flesh turned
almost bearable, Kayleen was still in hellish pain from her dislocated joints
and from the restraints which had been her most inseparable tormentors for
days and nights of relentless anguish. Her wrists and ankles were cuffed so
tightly that they sometimes cracked, and even whey they didn't the dull studs
inside dug bleeding sores in the flesh and rubbed the bruised flesh onto bone.
The iron band clenching her waist had serrated edges which cut tiny gashes on
each breath and chafed the tender skin into purple bruises of relentless
torment. The bands at her elbows were the excruciating instrument through
which her shoulders were visited with the most relentless torments, as she had
been for so long subjected to painful pulling of her arms behind her back in
various positions that she barely remembered the times when her arms flexed
with might instead of trembling in relentless pain.
The bands at her knees and thighs at least only caused chafing and bruising,
except at the knees where the studs inside dug thin flesh onto the bone. The
thigh bands hurt the most when her hip joints were not dislocated, as they
brought the thighs cruelly together and dug into the soft flesh mercilessly.
The worst, however, were the serrated rings constricting the base of her
breasts and the crooked hooks distending her vagina into a gaping, obscene
triangle. It was not the first time that their pull kept the wounds left by a
session in her feminine parts open and bleeding. Yet, the soft skin of her
breasts had been uninterruptedly chafed and bruised by the dents of the rings
squeezing them into sore bags of throbbing pain.
As a light shone in the chamber of horrors she sobbed bitterly, fearing new
torments, and then croaked and coughed as she recognized Shandra, alone before
her. Hope clutched her heart.
"Shandra ... please," she managed to articulate, choking.
Obviously distressed, and pale as death, the Sorceress looked behind as
Zhorun caught up, pretending to join her from the corridor.
"As you can see, my apprentice, even harsh, protracted punishment is not
enough to bring down her defiance, although some progress has been achieved
with due perseverance. Although we feed her with herbs which enhance her
sensitivity and awareness, her resolve outlasts her endurance," said Zhorun.
"Maybe her will can be weakned," said Shandra noncommittally.
"I would much prefer her endurance to be protracted instead," retorted Zhorun.
"From what I've seen, the tortures already take her on the brink of death
already. The torturer's experience would not help them to stop in time, if the
telltale signs of the victim are suppressed," answered Shandra, her face
ghostly pale and wincing at Kayleen's wheezing cries.
Kayleen had managed to wade through her painful recollections enough to
remember Shandra's betrayal, and could not help but sob as the hope of being
rescued on seeing her former friend was shelved.
Suddenly, Zhorun cast a spell and the band around Kayleen's waist warmed
slowly, then turned hot. As the heat increased she buckled in pain and her
nipples and clitoris were brutally stretched and scraped while a howl rose
from her mouth. She continued screaming as the iron turned red hot, jerking
in convulsed agony while her head shook in pain and continuing as the band
cooled with excruciating slowness between her harsh gasps.
"Less than a minute," whispered Zhorun.
Shandra extended her hand to touch Kayleen's forehead, and touched it while
murmuring the words of a spell. Kayleen's mind cleared, and her clear blue
eyes opened wide in hatred at the red haired Sorceress. She was about to say
something when the iron band constricting the base of her left breast turned
warm, and soon her newfound voice surged in bitter screams as it slowly turned
red hot while she convulsed in howling agony until the metal slowly cooled.
"Enough! Make him stop!" cried Kayleen repeatedly, pleading her former friend
as if she had forgot her betrayal, the toll of weeks of torment crushing her
into incoherent terror, her resolve shattered. She would have answered any
question by now, but Zhorun was not interested in asking.
Under Shandra's transfixed gaze, Zhorun meticulously used his magic to heat
the iron restraints constricting Kayleen's body, returning to her breasts,
nipples and clitoris most often as they elicited the most heinous convulsions
and desperate screams as she rattled her chains, twitching in harsh pain but
apparently never losing the unnatural awareness brought about by magic.
After a while, however, the effect apparently faded and Kayleen's eyes lost
focus as pain distended her mouth in a scream from the searing heat sizzling
her clitoris in the vicious grip of the tight clamp linked to the floor.
"Again," commanded Zhorun, and Shandra obliged with a dreary expression, cold
sweat all over her face as she cast another spell on her former friend.
The torture continued for maybe an hour, until Shandra protested that her
ability to cast the spell again had burned out. Kayleen had been repeatedly
seared by her red hot restraints, although she had never begged for mercy
again, as if Shandra's magic had bolstered her resolve. Zhorun considered for
a while, then continued heating the clamps on Kayleen's nipples, watching her
writhe in convulsing agony while her voice screamed in choked fits of wretched
woe, only to finally give up in blatant irritation.
"You have thy task lain before thee, my apprentice," he whispered.
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