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Crown of Torments

Chapter 20 Ambushing the Rescuers

Chapter 20 - Ambushing the Rescuers


Lyral's cry of dismay faded slowly in the unlit vaults of the torture chamber

under the ruins of Zhorun's former castle. She had just failed again to bring

her lips to touch her friend's forehead, cursing herself for not being what

she had never been, agile and athletic.


With her wrists cuffed behind the back to her left ankle and hanging upside

down from a thumbscrew gouging her right toe, Lyral's attempts to swing and

bend at the waist to reach her friend with the lips had resulted in some

healing for her friend and much frustration for her, and now her tired muscles

were starting to ache from the effort and from her position. What brought her

to tears was that this was nothing before the torment wrought on her friend.


Kayleen hung with her left wrist cuffed behind the back to her right ankle,

and the right arm cuffed at the elbow and wrist to her left leg, in a

grotesque lozenge which pulled strenuously on her dislocated joints, wrenching

raucous screams of pain from her trembling frame. She still shivered having

been drenched in freezing cold salt water, and her weight hung from

thumbscrews savagely crushing her right toe and left thumb, which had cracked

under her efforts to help in getting healed and were now painfully swollen.


The healing which Lyral had managed to convey had restored most of the flesh

scraped from her limbs and mons, although the white of the bone still showed

in her ribcage through wounds whose pain was almost on par with the blazing

agony from her shredded nipples and clitoris, which had been restored only

partially. Lyral's healing, however miraculous, would not restore her joints

as long as they were under the traction induced by her position.


What Lyral and Kayleen ignored was that Kayleen's predicament was the result

of Zhorun's directions, as the undead wizard had wanted to relish in seeing

his nemesis suffer the beginning of agonies which would last through the

night, because he would not be able to witness them as he had taken to.


In the last days, his spies had warned him that, in spite of the precautions

taken by his henchmen, a group of Priestesses had been able to follow the

trail of Lyral's abductors, probably detecting residues of the magic carried

by items of hers which had been brought along. Nothing in his tomes had hinted

that Priestesses possessed such abilities, although, in hindsight, the notion

that stealing from them was unwise had been there. Whatever the ability, it

had a limited range, because their had to spread from a known point, and

apparently employing many Priestesses allowed them to cover a wider area.


It was also likely that the Priestesses had found some residual of the corpses

incinerated by Lyral's power, because they were taking precautions against the

undead. What they did not expect, as there were many Priestesses and few

fighters, was living opponents led by a wizard, of a might the likes of which

had been forgotten in the kingdom; he would storm their camp at dawn with his

troops, wiping out over half of the Priestesses in existence in a single blow.


He planned to take some prisoners, have them deprived of their power by his

men, which would be their just reward, and interrogated, because he hoped to

find most of the others gathered together in some shrine, and if he got his

timing right he would be able to obliterate them also before news of the fate

of those investigating Lyral's disappearance spread.


Meanwhile, he watched silently, with his netherwordly gaze for which darkness

was not an obstacle, as Lyral's efforts improved the health of her friend,

causing the scorched gashes in the limbs and crotch to heal, although the

flesh on the ribs and the breasts still pulsed and oozed. The nipples bled

slowly now, but the pain from the innumerable small wounds left by the needles

and hooks was still remorseless.


"Kayleen, I believe we're against a wall. It's impossible for me to heal your

joints in that position, and any healing I further infused on you would be

wasted in trying just that, without improving the rest of your wounds."


"Do you have ... enough ... for yourself ?" croaked Kayleen, crying.


"I have already healed myself," lied Lyral, blessing the darkness.


"Kayleen, I am stumped," she added, "We're playing into their hands. They

torture you, I heal you, and then the next day they torture you even more. Now

they've taken to curtailing the little help I was able to give you, and I am

forced to sit hearing you scream all the way to the gates of hell because of

me, being abjectly raped because I'm too weak to stand it myself!"


"Lyral ... don't play into their hands even more. What you give, however

little you manage to ... accomplish, is what keeps me from breaking. Even in

the worst ... torments, I know that if I just hold on some more, a time will

come when ... the kiss of a friend will soothe my pain. Get over your guilt,

they are playing upon it, ... besides, it's because of my weakness that you're

undergoing this, so you're not alone," whispered Kayleen between fits of pain.


"It's not us, it's them ... it's them we should stand against, together. As

much as I regret dragging you into this, ... it was worse when I was alone,

Lyral. Alone with the pain, the humiliation ... crying in the dark, never free

from these cuffs, ... no kiss of a friend before another day of merciless

torments," mused Kayleen, trying to muffle her bitter sobs.


Zhorun left shortly thereafter to join his minions, his mind divided between

the task ahead and the delicious anticipation of further sufferings to be

inflicted on his prisoners, especially the Queen. He had considered ordering

today's session postponed until his return, but then settled for allowing the

torture to continue, intending to use magic to have a look whenever possible.


At the end of a restless night, punctuated by Kayleen's bitter screams as the

pain in her joints mounted, the torturers returned for another session, and it

was the Southerner who moved towards her, his arousal prominent under his

white robes as he lewdly inspected her quivering form.


Without releasing her from the restraints she had spent the night in, he

produced a small blade and started tearing small wounds in the rim of her

sphincter, almost purring whenever she screamed pitifully, and then pulled out

his manhood and rammed it into her ass, causing her voice to rise in a howl of

hopeless torment as the wicked thrust ripped the wounds wider.


He kept jarring viciously back and forth for a while, grabbing her thighs

while she cried and sobbed bitterly, then pulled his bloodied member out and

reamed her orifice with pinches of white powder, which soaked her blood so

that he could resume her violation denying her its lubrication, rekindling the

flames of agony in her voice until his lust was finally spent.


Lyral was dragged by the Easterner near a heavy iron grate, set with dull

spikes, on which she was forced to lie with her back, immediately realizing

that her muscles would not hold the strain of keeping the worst of the points

from her flesh for long. Her gaze, however, followed the violation of her

friend, whose dislocated joints which she had not been able to heal were now

compounding with their agonies the humiliation of yet another abject rape.


The Southerner tightened Kayleen's collar, constricting her windpipe, and then

lowered her on the floor, dragging her near a low, reclined plank. He cuffed

her wrists and elbows behind her back, fastening the wrists to a chain from

the ceiling, and then spread her legs wide by cuffing her ankles to chains

from two pillars at her side, adjusting the chains so that her front lay on

the plank, with her face almost touching the floor and her loins raised up, a

position whose significance she realized immediately with a bitter sob.


She started screaming when her dislocated joints were forced to bear the brunt

of her weight, as her arms were pulled up behind the head and her thighs

rotated and spread unmercifully, wrenching harsh cries of agony as lances of

white hot pain shot from the wracked sockets, and then howled when he started

driving short needles under her partially regrown finger and toe nails,

twisting the forked tips, waiting for his member to harden again.


After leaving her to sob bitterly thereafter, he pulled the chain fastened to

her wrists, raising her front while a protracted scream rose from her mouth as

pain surged in her wracked shoulders, exposing her muscular abdomen and proud,

generous breasts. He brought the jug to her mouth, letting her sip repeatedly.


He started inserting tiny hooks around her navel, pulling the flesh taut and

braiding them with short needles whose forked tip he drove slowly just under

the skin, pausing whenever she quivered in screaming agony and resuming when

her voice subsided. He stopped after about two dozen, admiring his work for a

moment before producing a barbed steel rod which he used to administer a

vicious strike across her pierced abdomen.


The barbs tore the skin in a number of places, causing her head to jerk back

in a scream of surprised pain, but the contraction of her muscles pulled on

hooks and needles, which tore through the muscles just under the skin slitting

lacerated gashes of bleeding agony in her quivering abdomen. Overwhelmed by

the sudden pain, she shook in her restraints, howling repeatedly in abysmal

torment while blood oozed from the tiny wounds after each strike.


With a smile, he produced a jar and emptied it on the plank, revealing dozens

of critters, each half an inch long, which scuttled around, crowding where

drops of her blood stained the wood. Her eyes grew wide when he started

lowering her, until her abdomen contacted the plank and the true measure of

her torture was revealed as the tiny crabs, a variant of land crab for which

her tormentor had found this cruel use, started biting the edges of her

wounds, tearing minuscule bits of skin and flesh off.


Her howls rose in pitch as the tiny crabs, used to feed on dead or wounded

creatures, swarmed her wounds, apparently ignoring sound skin, and used their

surprisingly strong jaws to rip off a morsel of flesh and then rush away, to

laboriously ingest it. She kept screaming and howling while dozens of jaws

tore her wounds open, convulsing pitifully in uninterrupted agony, until

somehow she realized that she could lessen her torment by raising herself off

the plank, as the crabs were poor climbers and were apparently unable to hold

onto her flesh and bite at the same time.


Almost immediately, the agony of her lacerated flesh was compounded by the

devastating torment of her dislocated joints, shot through by waves of

abysmal pain as her muscles trembled in the spasmodic effort to keep her

wounds outside the reach of the crabs. The sheen of perspiration covered her

body, and her chest panted in between strangled screams as her physique

managed again to pull off an astonishing feat of endurance and determination.


Screaming herself from the iron points in her back, Lyral was still horrified

at the thought of the agony in her friend's joints, partly because the true

purpose of the plank was not visible to her. What she had feared thus far was

that they guessed this limitation of her healing and turned it into a further

source of agonies for her brave friend, but her fear found a cause much closer

to her as the Easterner shoveled a load of burning coals under the iron grate

she lied on, forcing to her to arch to distance her back from their heat.


Meanwhile, anticipating the tingle of renewed arousal, with a tiny blade the

Southerner started tearing small cuts in the rim of Kayleen's vagina, watching

as she shivered after each, sliding closer to the plank and pulling back with

a hoarse scream of utter agony as her trembling muscles managed to deliver her

again. With a smile, he started prolonging each cut, letting the blade linger

in the cuts torn through the most sensitive area, just above the rim, pressing

it down so that she was forced to lie on the plank for the joy of the crabs,

briefly renewing her agony as their jaws bit her wounds.


She was but halfway in a scream of mad agony when he grabbed her hips and

penetrated her vagina, ripping the tiny wounds wide open while her voice rose

in a choked scream of pain and despair and her trembling muscles gave, dropping

her on the plank amidst the hungry crabs. Although his jarring thrusts caused

many crabs to be crushed, she was also repeatedly forced onto the plank

exposing her wounds to more bites, while her orifice was being ripped open by

his vicious rut and he relished in her spasmodic screams of utter torment.


Lyral's screams matched her friend's as her muscles could deliver her from the

raging heat of the coals only at intervals, so her attention returned to the

abject rape of her friend in between, although in a corner of her mind her

horror mounted at how the violation was being protracted.


The Southerner pulled out of Kayleen's womb twice, tearing more cuts in her

vagina while she howled in trembling agony and rubbing her innards with more

white powder before resuming the abject penetration of her orifice in a

renewed frenzy of rutting thrusts. When his lust was finally spent, he

lingered inside her, driving hooks in her twitching ass cheeks while she

screamed as the pain of raising herself off the plank and the agony of having

morsels of flesh ripped from her bleeding wounds alternated.


Still with his flaccid member within her, he braided needles through the hooks

in her ass cheeks and back, just under the skin, twisting the forked tips so

that she howled in abysmal pain and let herself on the plank for a few

seconds each time. Only after tormenting relentlessly the parts which could be

reached while still filling her love channel did he pull out, trouncing her

sob of respite with a vicious strike from the barbed rod across her buttocks.


He let her sip from the jug again, then a new phase of her torment commenced

when he started using the barbed rod all over her needle pierced body, slowly

ripping open her skin bit by bit and causing her to stiffen and howl in

torment as each jerk shifted hooks and needles in new positions, tearing

through her muscles in endless variations of searing agony.


Panting with exertion, he put the rod aside and started picking up the crabs

one by one and depositing them on her back, ass cheeks and thighs, placing

each near and even inside a wound just as a jerk tore it open, so that the

creature would sink its jaws while she was still wracked by the pain of the

wound itself. He watched with delight as the technique worked, wrenching howls

of ever increasing pitch from her hoarse throat while her body shook in her

restraints, shuddering from the relentless ache of the dislocated joints and

jerking from blasts of pain as morsels were ripped from her wounds.


Lyral, arching in torment, watched in disbelief the convulsions of her friend,

realizing that some critter was causing the spasmodic jerks which undoubtedly

wracked the dislocated joints well beyond the boundaries of human endurance.

Her back burned from the heat and the pain from the iron spikes, which became

overwhelming when her aching muscles gave, so she had a fitful picture of what

her friend was undergoing, and the horror mounted within her as each time her

gaze wandered off to her friend's form she was still convulsing and screaming.


The Southerner pulled the chain fastened to Kayleen's wrists, raising her off

the plank and exchanging more torment on her shoulder joints with some respite

from the crabs, most of which fell down, and splashed her with cold salt

water, waiting for her subsequent screams to subside before letting her sip

from the jug. But then he started driving hooks under the skin of her ribcage

and into her breasts, drawing out sharp howls of bitter pain which turned into

fitful screams as he braided them with needles, screams he cruelly protracted

by twisting the forked tip under the skin, relishing the contact with her

shaking body and the hoarse screams of utter torment in his face.


Not satisfied with the dozens of hooks and needles deforming her breasts into

bleeding cones of trembling agony, he spent an inordinate amount of time in

driving needles through her distended nipples and then pulling each through a

small hole in a two-inch metal platter, bending the needles inside the nipple

while her voice trembled in howls of demented torment, rising again when he

drove thin needles under each platter to stitch it to the tip of the nipple.


Her screams became, if possible, even louder when he drove hooks and needles

through her thighs and her crotch, braiding dozens of hooks in her cunt lips

with needles and using iron pliers to savagely pull her clitoris through the

hole of another metal platter before laboriously stitching the tip of the

bleeeding feminine flesh to the platter with thin needles.


Lyral was not able to follow this new stage of her friend's torture, because

her own was now an all-consuming agony which wrenched desperate howls of pain

as she could no longer distance herself from the heat, and the torment in her

buttocks and the back of her thighs was uninterrupted and excruciating. Her

tear filled eyes only managed to notice that her friend hung with arms twisted

behind the back, screaming from some abject torment being inflicted on a

femininity which had become the preferred target of their captors.


When the Southerner lowered Kayleen on the plank again, the crabs swarmed her

bleeding front and sunk their jaws in her wounds, wrenching new screams of

abysmal torment from her as she forced her aching muscles to gain the inch or

so she needed to preserve her proud breasts from dozens of painful bites. Her

howls turned into gurgles as he circled her and inserted his member into her

mouth, still distended by the spider gag, pushing with his loins so that she

contacted the plank with her bleeding crotch, his member hardening at the

thought of the crabs ripping flesh from her wounded femininity.


The next scream engulfed his member while her warm tongue rubbed it in the

spasmodic attempt to scream her agonies without choking, and as more crabs

found the wounds in her crotch her howls gurgled around his manhood one after

the other, rising even higher when her clitoris was bitten and a pink morsel

was forcefully torn off, causing her to convulse in unbearable agony.


He protracted the violation of her mouth, pulling out frequently and striking

her back with the barbed rod on occasion, but his pleasure ebbed on the rhythm

of her desperate screams from the harsh bites of the crabs and bulged when her

tongue lapped spasmodically his hardening member in a choked howl of agony as

his thrusts filled her throat and wracked her dislocated joints.


When his lust was spent, he lingered inside her mouth, watching her fingers

stiffen and contract spasmodically before him as morsels of flesh were ripped

off her wounds by the crabs, causing her to gurgle her screams of abysmal

torment onto his manhood and buckle violently, wracking her swollen joints

into deeper pits of unrelenting woe.


Still screaming in bitter pain, Lyral tried to reduce her own agonies by

using her healing power on herself, and managed to soothe her torment enough

to be able to see clearly how a tiny creature reached into the gash torn by

a hook in her friend's cunt lips, tore back and forth at the bleeding edge and

finally ripped off a morsel of flesh while her friend's burst of anguished

pain gurgled in the stuffed mouth. Horrified, she stopped healing herself,

determined to save her power to deliver her friend from such abject torments.


After pulling out, at last, the Southerner brought the jug to Kayleen's lips

again, although she managed to sip little between screams and jerks, and then

picked up a crab with tweezers and deposited it on the platter stitched to her

left nipple. The creature, momentarily confused, turned to the bleeding flesh

and sunk its jaws where a needle pierced the distended bud, tearing back and

forth until it managed to rip off a morsel while she shook in screaming agony.


Smiling, he did the same with her other nipple, slowly adding one crab at a

time while her screams mounted, her pain so unbearable that her convulsions

even managed to cause some crabs to fall off, although her tormentor promptly

replaced them. Her chest trembled, heaving in panting exertion often

interrupted by a bitter scream, but her muscles literally twitched like violin

cords in the harrowing effort to preserve her bleeding front, and especially

her breasts and crotch, from the biting crabs.


He kept up this torment until his manhood hardened again, and then inserted

his hardening member down her throat, pushing with his loins so that her

crotch was again exposed to the swarming crabs, changing the origin of her

screams but not the horror of her unrelenting agony. As her woe gurgled around

his manhood, he kept up the violation of her mouth while her body convulsed in

pain, repeatedly thrusting his bulging member back and forth in her throat

until he finally came again.


Her tormentor let her scream and convulse under the relentless tearing of the

crabs, teasing her mouth with his member, savoring how her physique still

managed to deliver her from most of their bites but for the occasional lapse

which exposed her breasts to a dozens of biting jaws, which swarmed them in a

single instant of unparalleled agony which shook through her body and burst

off her mouth in a howl of harrowing woe whose echoes lingered under the

vaults of the torture chamber while her pain-wracked body shook pitifully.


When her sufferings managed to rekindle his drug enhanced arousal, he violated

her mouth again, sending her crotch into the jaws of the crabs for a variation

of her torment which lasted as long as his cruelty and lust proved able to

protract it. This cycle of horrid agony and abject violation was repeated as

many times as it pleased her tormentor to repeat it, and soon she lost count.


Finally, instead of lingering in her mouth, he brought the jug to her lips,

and then picked up more crabs which he placed on the platter stitched to the

tip of her clitoris, smiling as her mouth distended almost to the point of

letting the gag fall off in a howl of demented torment when another morsel of

flesh was ripped off from her pierced femininity.


As her convulsions paused, he added another crab to the platter stitched to

her left nipple, followed up after a while by one to the right, and kept

adding or replacing the creatures piecemeal while she howled in uninterrupted

agony, wracked by the searing torment her jerks caused on her dislocated

joints and jerking violently when a morsel of flesh was ripped off her pierced

femininity by the vicious jaws of a crab. The spasmodic convulsions of her

loins, the twitching of her strained thigh muscles, and her fingers grasping

at air, meanwhile, slowly fanned new fire into his drug enhanced arousal.


Lyral, still buckling strenuously over the hot coals, watched anxiously as her

friend convulsed violently from the searing agony of having her feminine

flesh ripped off bit by bit, the bleeding now more pronounced but still fairly

limited, but the pain unparalleled, and showing plainly in the contorted face

and the harrowing screams. Dread consumed Lyral at the thought of finding her

friend so horribly mutilated that not even her healing power would restore

what had been torn off, but as far as she could see each crab actually took a

single morsel and then laboriously consumed it before coming back for more, so

although her torment was uninterrupted, actual damage was rather limited.


When ready, the Southerner used a candle to scare off the crabs scuttling

around Kayleen's crotch area, cruelly searing the flapping shreds of her

vagina, then threaded a cord through them, carefully knotting it to the

needles piercing her flesh, and pulling it through her clitoris twice while

she stiffened in a howl of demented torment. Then, with a vicious smile, he

penetrated her love channel in frenzied abandon, pulling the cord taut so that

his thrusts shredded her flesh, twisting needles and hooks and ripping through

her clitoris and the rim of her vagina while she howled in abysmal torment.


Growling in frenzied excitement, he thrust into her with increasing

viciousness, pulling out to smear white powder inside her bleeding womb so

that her violation would resume without the benefit of being lubricated by her

blood and pulling the cord left and right repeatedly so that his penetration

tore the wounds in her vagina wider open. Her pitiful screams continued even

after he came inside her, as he kept pulling alternately on the cord while

she shook in harrowing pain.


When Grod stepped in the Southerner's place, Kayleen's teary gaze focused on

something he was carrying. He freed her from the chains, but without

unfastening her restrains or even removing hooks and needles from her bleeding

body dragged her to the cross rack, where she saw that he was carrying a set

of cuffs. He had already replaced the cuffs she wore when racking her, to make

sure her blood vessels would not be slit open, but her joints had been

dislocated for hours now and surely he did not mean to rack them further.


He placed her with her back on the rack, removed her iron waist band and

replaced it with another, which wrenched a gasp from her torn mouth as it was

studded with dull iron spikes. Unlike its predecessor, this could be tightened

with screws, and the spikes dug in her soft flesh, while another pain told her

that the iron band's edges were also serrated and scratched painfully the skin

once the band was tightened, constricting her breathing.


Now that she could not roll off the rack, he replaced the cuffs at her ankles

with wicked, heavy iron cuffs which had dull spikes and dents in places were

they would not endanger blood vessels, and which he tightened savagely with a

screw almost to the point of crushing her ankles in them. Thus, when he

replaced her wrist cuffs, the relief of having her wrists free for the first

time in weeks was brief and soon replaced by the crushing torment of dull

spikes, soon joined by similar ache from elbow and knee rings.


Next, he produced two thin iron bands, again studded and dented, which he

tightened around her thighs, near her crotch, turning the screw so tight that

the iron sunk in her flesh, tracing bleeding scratches and breaking a few

needles while she howled in sudden pain. When he cast her old restraints

negligently away, she realized that these were the restraints that she would

wear from now on, designed to torment her bitterly and without relief, day and

night, increasing her suffering another notch.


Lyral screamed in fear as the Southerner neared her, almost wishing he let her

on the hot coals although her back and buttocks had been burned crimson by the

relentless heat. Even if the torture had not been as severe as the horrors

inflicted on her friend, she had often been near breaking when her aching

muscles had failed to deliver her back from being scorched raw. But the mere

thought of what the swarthy old man was capable of doing inspired in her a

terror so boundless that only Zhorun's obsession with tormenting her friend

could explain how their torturers failed to exploit it.


Kayleen gasped when Grod produced a serrated, hinged iron band which he closed

around the base of her left breast, which bulged while he screwed it tighter

and tighter, unmoved by her screams as it caught on needles and hooks,

dragging them further through her suffering flesh. A similar fate befell her

right breast, and as the pain mounted in her constricted mounds a bitter sob

shook her at the thought of spending whole nights in such agony.


Her eyes widened in fear when he trapped her left nipple in a vise and screwed

it painfully tight, causing blood to spurt while she screamed in mad pain as

the device bent the hooks and needles still piercing the mauled flesh. As the

same happened to her other nipple, she realized that the vises had fine chains

meant to be attached to rings in her restraints, her collar in this case, and

could also become instruments of further torment. And the fears fanned by this

train of thoughts burst into bitter screams when he crushed her clitoris in a

similar vise, pulling its chain savagely to fasten it to her waist band.


Just as she wondered whether today's session, since Zhorun was not present,

would be interrupted here, leaving her to suffer in her new restraints, her

tormentor made obvious what the cross rack could still do to a female victim

whose joints had been already dislocated. The device he was fastening between

her trembling legs consisted of a stout bar, which he fastened to her ankle

cuffs, from whose middle protruded a long steel pole, whose tip tapered into

a roughly hewn wooden cone, wickedly hacked and dented.


Another cross bar was fastened to her knee cuffs, and when the tip nudged her

torn sphincter she screamed in bitter despair at the thought of its size and

dents. The cone distended the tattered rim of her sphincter, dislodging some

of the hooks and needles still piercing it, causing her to arch with a scream

of hopeless torment. The dents scraped the shredded rim, and then the cone

filled the opening of her bowels while she convulsed in pain around its girth,

her screams waning and waxing in bitter woe.


A wave of white hot agony surged from her left thigh when he cranked the

roller, pulling the leg by the ankle and stretching muscles and ligaments,

while pain throbbed in her ankle and knee smarting under the constriction of

the wicked cuffs. What in her previous experiences on the rack had been the

pinnacle of agony, the tearing of muscles once the bone had been wrought out

of its seat, was now the beginning of her torture, and compounded the tearing

of her sphincter, as the only avenue for the pull on her leg consisted in

further penetration by the girth of the cone.


Remembering the torment she had perceived in her friend's dislocated joints,

Lyral gasped when she realized that they would be stretched on the rack again,

beyond herself at the thought of the atrocity her friend was about to

withstand. From her position, she could not see the pole well enough to

understand its function, and her mind was still under the impression of the

agonies of dislocation since the night before. As for her own predicament, the

Southerner had fastened her ankle cuffs to a chain from the ceiling, hanging

her upside down with the wrists cuffed behind her back, but was apparently

more interested in following her friend's agonies.


Kayleen's screams rose higher when Grod cranked the other roller, and the cone

bore deeper through her sphincter, ripping the cuts along its rim slightly

wider as it had already distended her bowels near tearing point and was thus

ripping the flesh where it had been already weakened, wrenching howls of

abysmal pain from her stretched body as her taut legs quivered spasmodically

from the consuming pain and her chest heaved, panting heavily, shaken by

bitter screams and fits of howling agony.


He splashed her with cold, salt water, causing her screams to change in pitch

as the pain from the salt seeping in wounds all over her momentarily replaced

the agony from her limbs and bowels, but as he slowly cranked the rollers

pulling on her ankles her torment kept increasing as her sphincter was ripped

further open and her strained muscles shot blazes of white hot pain through

her convulsing body, while the dents now scraped her insides and her mouth was

distended in an uninterrupted scream of abysmal agony whose pitch changed with

the waves of anguish wracking her stretched body.


One notch at a time, he pulled her spasming legs beyond dislocation, wrenching

raucous screams as the tendons strained near the point of being wrenched from

the trembling muscles, while the cone distended her sphincter tearing its

wounded rim wider as she convulsed in howling agony. Just as the thought of

having reached the bottom of this hell formed in her mind, a new agony burst

in her breast as droplets of bubbling grease scorched it, chasing the

constricted nipple while she jerked in renewed torment and a howl of absolute

agony surged from her distended mouth.


It took only a split second for her spasmodic jerk to reverberate through her

strained leg muscles, rebounding in a blaze of unbelievable torment as the

fibers of tendon and muscle trembled near rupture under her spasmodic efforts

to wrench herself away from the sizzling grease. Grod had correctly guessed

that his favored approach, bringing bone and muscle near the edge and letting

the victim cross it briefly upon each pain induced jerk, would have been very

effective on the athletic woman, as her toned physique lent her jerks a

strength far beyond the ordinary. Now this strength was slowly tearing the

supple tendons of her thighs near the point of rupture, while her ass was

being ripped open by the merciless cone.


Lyral gasped when the sizzling liquid scorched her friend's breast, unable to

believe that such cruelty could be perpetrated and protracted, even more as

she understood that the grease was meant to cause her friend to tear her own

limbs into deeper pits of hellish agony. Her own back was now hurting horribly

as the burns oozed, and she could only guess at what unbearable torment would

her friend suffer once grease started to blister burned skin.


Grod stopped dripping grease on Kayleen's scorched chest and poured the

contents of the jug in her mouth, using one hand to keep her head from jerking

left and right while she howled from the unrelenting torment of her bowels and

legs, and splashing her with more cold, salt water for good measure. He slowly

cranked the rollers again, notch after notch, inspecting her thighs and

watching as signs of rupture in her tendons and thigh muscles surfaced as he

dripped sizzling grease on her mound and cunt lips, starting where a needle

or hook had lacerated the skin, while she howled in demented agony and wracked

her limbs with her own spasmodic jerks.


He circled her, moving above her head between her stretched arms, and cranked

the rollers pulling on her wrists, fanning new despair into her screams as she

realized that more torments were to come. Once her arms started trembling as

the rack stretched her muscles and tendons, he grabbed the vise on her left

nipple and pulled it, dripping sizzling grease on the distended breast flesh

while she howled in helpless agony.


Unlike her lower limbs, where the pain originated from the ripping of her

sphincter was on par with the straining of her muscles, so that a few drops of

grease were more than enough to keep her jerking in merciless agony, with her

upper limbs the grease was an integral component of her ongoing torture as it

wandered mercilessly on her breast, drop by drop, wrenching gut-wrenching cries

of desperate torment from her convulsing chest, whose spasmodic jerks sent

lances of pain through her hip and shoulder joints, especially the latter, just

as her tormentor's intended.


Her head shook aimlessly while he lingered on her nipple, repeatedly scorching

it with the sizzling fluid and pulling it left and right in order to expose

different areas of feminine flesh to its burning kiss, each drop bubbling on

the pink flesh turning it crimson while a new howl of demented pain wracked

her panting chest. Biding his time, he alternated the cranking of the rollers

with relentless dripping of sizzling grease on her chest, mostly on her

breasts and nipples as these wrenched the loudest screams from her torn mouth.


Lyral kept watching her friend's agonies until the Southerner produced another

crab, about two inches across, and dragged slowly it along her burned back,

until the creature suddenly pinched her flesh and tore a bit of scorched flesh

with its strong jaws, causing her to bend and buckle in sudden agony. He had

waited for her burns to become painful, and was now going to slowly rip off

her blistered flesh one morsel at a time.


After protracting Kayleen's agonies until her screams waned, Grod let her sip

from the jug, then with steel in his eyes cranked the rollers again, dripping

grease on her chest, belly and limbs, without interruption, always careful to

alternate between the left and right sides of her body so that she would jerk

and buckle spasmodically while screaming in unbearable agony, pulling

repeatedly at the stretched muscle of her suffering joints.


He kept up with this for a long time, then returned to dripping grease on her

breasts and nipples, always inspecting her shoulder joints, watching for signs

of tearing as cries of sheer agony surged from her mouth one after the other.

Her nipples had been peeled raw by the repeated application of sizzling grease

and the vises had been tightened, so that they would not slip off, causing

them to bloodily scrape the feminine buds between howls of desperate anguish.


Swaths of breast skin flared with the angry crimson of scorched flesh, and when

rivulets of grease crossed them, blasts of hellish agony surged from her mouth

in howls of unspeakable anguish. But the pain from her shoulder joints was

growing even beyond that, as the relentless pull of the rack had stretched

them beyond recognition, leaving the muscle sunken and wracking new pinnacles

of torment on her as bleeding tears started appearing where the muscle and

tendons were being slowly ruptured, turning into sickeningly ripping gashes

while her howls echoed desperately under the vaults of the torture chamber.


Although he protracted the torture almost to the point of ripping her arms off

their sockets, although she screamed and howled in appalling agony, not once

did his gaze catch in hers the signs of defeat he was seeking. He could have

torn her limbs off, but he lessened the pull of the rack instead, allowing the

strained strands of muscle to wreak new pain though her trembling body as they

contracted spasmodically. He tried to break her by repeatedly pulling and

releasing her arms, watching her gaze as her body stiffened in seizures of raw

agony and convulsed in jerks of desperate torment, but she defied him again.


Lyral's own screams now echoed her friend's, as the Southerner had procured

another crab and alternated them, lewdly targeting her buttocks and the soft

back of her thighs. Although the crabs, just like their smaller cousins, tore

flesh one morsel at a time before laboriously consuming it, she was bleeding

from dozens of small bites where her scorched flesh had been ripped off, and

her gaze wandered to her friend only when a scream rose loud enough to pierce

the haze of her own agony. Still, she saw enough to realize in horror that her

friend's muscles and tendons were being ripped to shreds,


Grod let Kayleen sip from the jug again then circled her, removed the cross

bars from her lower limbs and slowly pulled out the cone from her torn

sphincter, releasing the rollers one notch at a time while she screamed and

trembled as blood flowed from her wounded bowels. He used the same paste which

had been used in the previous sessions to staunch bleeding, which led her to

hope that her torture was almost over, but then brought the jug to her lips

and poured its contents in her mouth, in spite of her scream of helpless

despair as she realized that such was not the case.


He procured another pole, tipped by a wooden cone whose size and girth

bespoke the intent to distend and rupture the womb while scraping it raw on

the dents hacked into its surface, and she shuddered as he fastened the

supporting crossbars to her ankles and knees. When the tip nudged the bleeding

tatters around the rim of her vagina, a bitter sob shook her stretched form.

She was about to see her torment intensified and the core of her femininity

subjected to further abject sufferings, and even her determination faltered at

the thought. Somehow, she found her last ounces of resolve in the sobbing form

of her friend, who was being tortured because she had slipped. She would not

allow that to happen again, at any price.


Ending the only relief allowed to her panting body, he resumed the cranking

of the rollers pulling on her ankles. The restraints she had been imprisoned

in added to her torment, just as those on her arms had, as the studs pressed

on the bone while the dented edges scraped her skin, but the pain from the

pull on her dislocated joints mounted unrelentingly, surpassing everything

else while screams burst from her throat in a frenzy of sheer anguish.


Just as she thought that it could not get worse, the penetration of the cone

in her vagina reached the point where its girth started distending her love

channel, ripping the cuts along its rim slightly wider while the dents scraped

her innards and blood flowed again while she jerked in abysmal pain. As he was

wont to do, he had set up her torment so that the rack pulled her thighs near

the point of shredding her muscles and tendons, forcing her to impale herself

on the cone, so that the agony of having her vagina ripped wider and wider

caused her to jerk violently, pulling her limbs beyond the point of rupture.


Lyral managed to get a glimpse of her friend's predicament as she happened to

bend in screaming anguish from another bite at the same time her friend jerked

herself into further agony, and the sight of the blood-stained wood tearing

her friend's femininity asunder and ripping it apart was impressed on her mind

by the gut-wrenching scream of unbridled torment which followed.


Whenever Kayleen screams subsided, either out of exhaustion or because she had

found a precarious balance whose level of pain was slightly less unbearable,

Grod would drop sizzling grease on her mons or thighs, causing her muscles to

contract in a jerk of harrowing agony while the fluid seared skin and flesh,

leaving angry crimson blisters or flowing agonizingly over already scorched

burns, rekindling the sounds of her anguish in a neverending nightmare of

harrowing screams and wheezing howls of hopeless torment.


In spite of the mind-numbing waves of relentless pain, she managed to hide the

despair from her contorted visage, denying her tormentor any hint about how

close she was to breaking, but the horrid price of this feat of courage was

ever increasing torment, so devastating and all-consuming that he had to hold

her mouth open and pour the contents of the jug over and over to prevent her

from sliding into the exhausted stupor induced by overwhelming pain,

especially once tears started forming in the sunken flesh where her hip joints

used to be as her torture was protracted, tears which her violent convulsions

ripped into bleeding gashes as he pulled the chain on her clitoris, distending

it unmercifully and dripping sizzling grease on her scorched femininity.


This was the pinnacle of agony, where he wanted to keep her until anything

else became secondary to the imperative of stopping the pain, so he lessened

the traction on her limbs one notch, resuming the dripping of grease on her

quivering crotch, and then cranked the rack again, alternating traction and

release in a dance of contrasting agonies while repeatedly searing her

distended clitoris, initially turning it an angry crimson, then slowly peeling

it while she howled in unspeakable torment, and finally stopping just short of

ripping it off her crotch in tatters as tears formed along the distended flesh

and started bleeding while the grease seeped in and her screams of abysmal

woe echoed uninterruptedly in the torture chamber.


Lyral somehow managed, in between the blasts of hellish pain coursing through

her whenever the jaws ripped a morsel of her scorched flesh, to keep herself

from admitting defeat. She hated herself for it, but she could not stand the

sight of the bleeding gashes lengthening in her friend's hips where the muscle

was being torn asunder, while her vagina was being literally ripped apart and

scraped raw and the sizzling grease was blistering her crimson flesh. But this

made her realize that Zhorun, whom she wanted to address, was not present,

and the surprise for a moment made her forget even her agonies.


As if in confirmation, while she was still sizing up the discovery, as Grod

was about to let the Easterner take his place the Southerner stepped in,

asking mockingly "Do you mind ?" before nearing Kayleen's crotch and producing

a needle and a cord. Lyral noticed her friend's body shaking in a sob of

bitter despair, and then closed her eyes as screams echoed in the room while

the cord was again threaded through the tatters of her friend's vagina before

the swarthy old man penetrated it, thrusting with rutting force which wrenched

desperate howls of torment as they pulled on the shredded thigh muscles.


The episode made Lyral realize that Grod had foregone raping Kayleen today,

and the only explanation she could find was that he had been doing that only

on Zhorun's orders. It was hard to believe that the feared executioner could

do anything merciful, and the sight of a breast scorched raw by the grease

canceled any such illusion, but the fact remained that Zhorun was not present

and probably not watching either.


The Easterner neared the rack and slowly released the rollers, ignoring

Kayleen's cries as her strained muscles contracted in trembling spasms, not

nearly as agonizing as the unrelenting alternation of traction and release they

had been subjected to but still harrowingly painful. Once her limbs were back

near their sockets, he removed some of the needles and hooks still piercing

her and started treating her wounds, including the gashes in her torn muscles

and the rips in her orifices, smearing them with paste and painstakingly

stitching them. She had undergone such treatment after battle before meeting

Lyral, but now she cried bitterly as it was performed, in part because it was

just like torture, applied to fiendishly painful wounds and with no intent to

spare her in any way, in part because it was only meant to prevent excessive

blood losses from sparing her further torments.


When he released her from the rack, he hesitated a moment as a scream rose from

her chest when her limbs were deprived of support, but then his jaw set and he

tightened her iron collar, constricting the windpipe before cuffing her wrists

and ankles together and dragging her by the hair between two pillars. Choked

screams wracked her chest during the brief trip, whenever her shredded muscles

were pulled even slightly, but when he cuffed her ankles to chains dangling

from the ceiling her face contorted in a mask of screaming agony as the

shredded muscles of her hip joints had to bear her full weight. Her screams

rose in full once he released the collar, and she found little comfort when he

also cuffed her wrists to rings in the floor, because spreading the weight had

reduced the risk of her thighs being torn off but increased the agony since her

arms had been cruelly twisted in their sockets.


A bitter sob of despair shook her heaving chest when she saw him produce a

sharp, thin blade and grab her left foot. With cruel determination, he snug

the blade under her partially healed toenail and cut, causing her to stiffen

and then arch in a scream of pain while the blade slowly lifted the nail off

its bed and freed the needle still lodged there from the morning. He let her

buckle in bitter woe for a while, then repeated the procedure on her other

foot, causing her to writhe in abysmal torment again and fanning her terror

as his hands caressed her other toes and the needles therein.


As he was fond of, he slowly protracted the torment of her toenails and then

repeated it on her fingernails, cutting under each nail and using the tip to

remove the needle piercing the nail bed with excruciating slowness while she

shook her head, screaming in renewed agony as she could not prevent her limbs

from jerking in response to the pain inflicted upon them, causing blasts of

hellish agony to surge from the torn strands of muscle at her joints.


Lyral had been tied with her hands and feet in front of her, trapped in a

pillory, and gasped when she saw Grod fetch a iron crusher, trapping her

middle finger in its serrated jaw. She started screaming when he closed the

jaws, as the device was essentially a fiendish nutcracker which was breaking

her finger bone, and her scream rose in shrill agony when it did.


The Easterner poured the contents of the jug in Kayleen's mouth, holding it

still with one hand as she quivered and sobbed bitterly, then moved behind her

and tied cords to a pair of hooks left in her buttock, pulling on them with

one hand to distend the skin in between before dragging the blade just enough

to slice it open, and kept pulling so that the wound was slowly ripped open

while she screamed from the mounting agony until one hook tore free with a

spurt of blood, which he quickly quenched by smearing paste in the shallow

wound. His hand caressed her buttock, lingering in the places where a hook or

a needle pierced it, causing her to shudder each time in anticipation of

further agonies, finally grabbing a needle and twisting it while the blade

slowly cut it free, wrenching a howl of pure agony from her sore throat.


With exquisite patience, he chased each hook and needle still piercing her

buttocks and used it as the pinpoint of new agonies. He would pull on each hook

until skin and flesh became taut as a drum, which often was enough to cause

her to writhe in unbearable pain, and then he would slowly cut through, leaving

a shallow slit which he excruciatingly ripped wider until a hook was torn

free. With needles, he would pull on one end while the tip of the blade dug

under their length, ripping them out by slowly lacerating the seat they had

been pushed into. Sometimes, he would also stitch the worst wounds, once they

were past their prime of pain and had thus fulfilled their purpose.


In either case, the agony thus inflicted surged through her hung frame in

spasmodic jerks of sharp pain, wrenching from her harsh gasps of bitter anguish

which burst into howls of unspeakable woe once the waves of searing torment

from the shredded muscles of her joints followed in reaction. He extended his

ministrations to her muscular back, and then to the back of her thighs, slowly

protracting her agonies until her screams waned to pitiful wheezes.


Lyral's own screams punctuated her friend's as Grod crushed her toes and

fingers, one at a time, letting her agonize over each for how long as it took

before breaking the next. The pain was so unbearable that she was tempted to

heal herself on the spot, but something told her that what their tormentors

wanted was just that, so she refrained from it, trying to gather resolve by

looking up at the courage of her friend suffering the hellish agonies of the

blade ripping heinous wounds in her mauled body.


Kayleen sputtered while attempting to drink the syrup the Easterner was

pouring in her mouth, craving and hating at the same time the liquid which

furthered her torment by lending her new strength but also exacerbating her

sensitivity to pain. He promptly demonstrated the latter by grabbing a hook

lodged in her thigh, using it to pull the skin taut and then slice it open

with his blade, since her howl rose to unprecedented heights as the skin had

been burned and blistered by the grease and the pain when the hook ripped it

open was beyond description.


As slicing through blistered skin proved vastly more painful than through

sound skin, he could bid his time and achieve the same level of torment, or

press the matter and wrench strangled howls of unparalleled agony and violent

convulsions, violent enough to bend and break some of the needles still lodged

deep in some of her muscles, which engendered fits of spasmodic jerking as the

pain from the shredded muscles of her joints fed on itself instead of

subsiding, until exhaustion mercifully prevented her from further wracking her

joints into hells of unbounded again. He coldly alternated between the two,

sparing her breasts and crotch for later but always watching her joints for

signs of tearing, although as the torture progressed he started to increase

the level of her torments in the hope of breaking her.


As each cut was often short, even when subsequently ripped open by a hook, he

could afford to inflict them in numbers, crisscrossing her blistered front with

agonizing lacerations but also occasionally returning to unscorched skin, such

as between her fingers or toes. He stayed well clear of her joints, well aware

that the strands of muscle connecting her limbs to her torso had been already

weakened and were however causing more than enough pain as they stood.


Having removed most of the hooks still lodged in her flesh, he introduced a new

twist in her torment by chasing the needles broken by her jerks, digging under

them with the tip of the blade so that the needle would be dislodged and its

tip would scratch the wound underneath while being pulled out. Rivulets of

blood traced their way down her front as he thus removed the needles, and

eventually, even if he tried to minimize the loss of blood, her oozing flesh

was covered in a sheen of blood and sweat, interrupted only by the dozens of

crimson slits where her skin had been ripped open. Her suspended body twitched

and shook as she screamed bitterly, and long howls of desperate agony surged

from her chest whenever the blade cut her skin open again.


As over half of Lyral's toes and fingers had been broken, Grod had begun to

bid his time in between, allowing Lyral's gaze to wander in the direction of

her friend's hellish screams. Although her vision was clouded by pain, she

gasped at the dozens of wounds slowly bleeding in her friend's muscular back,

taking some time to realize that they had been treated or her friend would

have been dead by now. Even so, considering the convulsions caused by the

ripping of the scorched front, she feared that her friend would not survive

long enough for her to effect any healing.


As Kayleen was sliding into exhaustion the Easterner poured the contents of

the jug into her mouth, restoring some energy to her voice, thus returned to

howls which echoed under the vaults of the torture chamber when he started

slicing through the blistered flesh of her breasts. As they had been seared by

the sizzling grease many times over and scorched deeply and repeatedly, the

blade even lightly applied lifted shreds of oozing flesh and traced gashes of

blinding pain even before the pull of the hooks blasted harrowing surges of

unspeakable woe through her heaving chest, wracking her like a rag doll while

her frothing mouth stood agape in a protracted howl of unbridled agony.


Such was the condition of her nipples that once he switched to torment them,

even his cruel inventiveness was unable to protract the torture for long,

although he managed to wreak howls of unprecedented anguish from her shaking

form by slowly peeling scorched tissue off the blistered bud until the

remaining hooks and needles could be freed by the tip, alternating between

left and right nipple and tightening the vises on the bleeding tatters of one

delectable bud while tormenting the other.


She sputtered, shaken by harsh cries of despair, when he brought the jug to

her lips again, aware in the haze of her agonies of what he would do next, the

next step down the pits of hell her tormentors were so fond of and which she

feared so deeply that she had tried her best to hide from them. He brought the

blade near her cunt lips and sliced them, bursting blisters open with

harrowing slowness and tracing short, shallow gashes of searing pain on taut

skin which he would then tear wider open by pulling on the last hooks, the

tiny hooks inserted by the Southerner and which he had not removed yet.


Such was the torment that her convulsions rattled the chains in spite of the

devastated state of her muscles, and as this was the result of jerks in her

torso, it also resulted in raucous screams of agony as the torn strands of

muscles in her joints were also rattled unmercifully. With savage cruelty, he

used the tip of the blade to rip pieces of scorched skin off her mons and

inner lips, lingering with the blade on the pulsating flesh until the pain

caused her to jerk spasmodically, ripping the scorched tissue off.


He had to bring the jug to her lips often now, because each application of the

thin blade engendered unprecedented agonies in the cut flesh, causing her to

scream her lungs out during the whole excruciating mutilation and also during

the subsequent frenzy of convulsed howling as the agony from her ripped

muscles was rekindled into a vicious spiral which lasted until she exhausted

herself to the point of being unable to jerk herself into further pain.


Unlike in previous occasions, he had chosen restraints which did not

immobilize her, so he kept the blade clear of vital areas lest a jerk caused a

lethal wound, but for her crotch he used his other hand to be sure.  She

jerked in mad terror when he removed the vise from her clitoris, in

anticipation of the horror which followed.


Using the tip of the blade, he scraped a bit of scorched tissue from her

tormented femininity, pulling towards himself until she pulled back in a jerk

as the pain of the tip twisting in a blister rose to unbearable agony and

surged in a howl of abysmal torment, causing as a reaction she could not

prevent another frenzy of torment of her joints.


As the tip tore the tiniest bits of scorched tissue, the torture could be

protracted on and on, even longer than the torment of the crabs as the

repeated application of sizzling grease had left burns which oozed slowly

rather than bleeding profusely. Although the tiny wounds he left were shallow

enough to not endanger the furthering of her abysmal torments, however, her

clitoris, like her nipples, had been subjected to such abuse that he could not

protract its torture for long.


As he started using the tip to carve tiny bits of flesh from the tattered rim

of her vagina and the sensitive initial tract of the love channel, extending

her torment with agonies maybe less intense but more deeply frightening, the

grip of despair clutched her heart. Beyond courage, beyond dedication to the

friends of a lifetime, her world had been narrowed to the agony of the blade

and the blazing pain of the ripped flesh.


Another gut-wrenching howl shook her as he ripped another wound in her

clitoris, rising in a surge of despair and torment not unlike the many which

had left her mouth today but with nothing of her resolve left behind. He cut

her again before tearing the inside of her vagina, and her howls formed a word

which broke the silence she had opposed to her tormentors in the last

sessions, a word of begging and defeat, a plea ... "Enough!".


Lyral had seen defeat in her friend's eyes, and saw everything crumble before

her eyes. In a split second, almost unaware of herself, she let her pain and

despair and agony vent in a scream, a "NOOOOOOOOO" louder than any other

scream they had managed to wrench from her, ... loud enough to dwarf her

friend's exhausted whisper.


The Easterner was an experienced executioner, and was aware of the fact that

Kayleen was on the verge of breaking, but she had looked on the verge of

breaking before and had always found the resolve to hold on. He subscribed to

the notion that Lyral could be broken by tormenting her friend, so finding his

approach confirmed, he moved so as to be able to watch Lyral's reactions

while he protracted Kayleen's torments.


The tip of the Easterner's blade ripped bits of blistered flesh from Kayleen's

clitoris and vagina, and unredeemed howls of unspeakable anguish from her

torn mouth, but in the depths of her agony she had found in her friend's

gesture an anchor for holding on a bit more, so she hid between her screams

and buckled in spasmodic agonies which subsided quickly. Even forcing her to

sip from the jug was no longer enough to prevent her from sliding into shock

whenever the blade ripped some flesh from her bleeding femininity, so after a

few more attempts her torture was finally interrupted.




Review This Story || Author: Synon55
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