 |
|||
|
|
Chapter 24 - Shriveling Hopes
For the first time after many days, a light shone in the torture chamber under
the ruins of Zhorun's castle. A reddish glow emanating from Shandra's hands
shone on Kayleen's tormented body. She hung upside down from a chain fastened
to her left ankle cuff, and her weight exacerbated the pain from the tight iron
and the studs placed to torment the ankle. A long oblique pole jutted from the
wall nearby and impaled her vagina, forcing her to angle her loins to lessen
the painful intrusion. Her other leg had been braided around the pole,
fastening the ankle to the iron ring under her left knee.
The worst of her agony, however, was not originated by her legs, nor by the
pole. Her left arm had been wound down behind her neck, and the right arm
twisted up behind her back, pulling the wrists close until they could be cuffed
together. It was almost a parody of the gesture which warriors used to draw a
sword carried on the back, but it caused a terrible strain in her muscles and
untold agonies in her dislocated shoulder joints. Even the serrated rings
constricting the base of her breasts were a nuisance in comparison.
The Sorceress had witnessed the preparation of her ordeal without a word, just
as she had watched without a word when the Southerner had violated Kayleen's
ass after she had been taken down from the cradle. She had waited silently
until the three torturers left, not sure about the latitude allowed to their
Master's apprentice after she showed no sign of following them.
"Shandra, please ... bring me down. It hurts, please." said Kayleen, starting
to come back to herself after being lost in numbing pain.
"I cannot, Kayleen" whispered the red-haired woman.
"Please, I can't ..." croaked Kayleen, her words ending in a scream.
"I am not here to oppose Zhorun. He won. He has become the mightiest mage ever
known, and ... I've asked to become his apprentice."
"Apprentice ? Shandra, I have been tortured for days because I refused him the
location of your place!" gurgled Kayleen, shaking violently.
"Lyral told me. I had hoped that with his victory Zhorun would no longer need
anything from you, but I was mistaken."
"Nothing," sobbed Kayleen, "I should just betray my soldiers and my people,
like you betrayed ..." A harsh cry prevented her from continuing.
"I am not happy about this, Kayleen. But magic defines a Sorcerer, and its toll
is sometimes steep. I helped you in the past, and I do not regret that. Now our
goals set us on different paths, and I know I am going to regret what I will
have to do to follow mine." she said with a sigh.
"There's no way to soften it, Kayleen. I will be asked to join them in
torturing you. Maybe in keeping you alive, although I guess only if Lyral does
not, since they wanted her back."
"You ... brought Lyral back into their hands ?", asked Kayleen.
"Zhorun would not have accepted otherwise" answered the red-haired woman.
For once, Kayleen's voice found again the strength of the former Warrior Queen
in addressing her former friend.
"May you live through hells ten times worse those I withstood on your behalf,
Shandra, and never attain the wretched prize you sold yourself for."
With a sigh the Sorceress left, taking the reddish light with her and plunging
the chamber in darkness. She winced hearing a bitter scream from her former
friend just before she closed the doors behind her.
In the chamber, Kayleen hung in pain, trembling from the ache in her shoulders
and occasionally quivering as her attempts to find a less painful position
stirred the wedge in her orifice or rattled her hip joint, wrenching harsh
gasps from her sore mouth. For an indeterminate amount of time, when lapses in
her torment allowed her mind to clear, she would curse her former friend.
"Kayleen ?" asked a young voice in the darkness.
"Lyral ? Thanks heaven, Lyral! I am almost mad with pain, ... help me." asked
Kayleen, pausing after rushing her first words.
"I wish I could, but I am chained to the wall, Kayleen. Maybe they'll allow me
to heal you tomorrow, like last time," said the young voice.
"Lyral, forgive me ... it hurts so much. I am ashamed ... you're back to hell
and my first thought has been ..."
"Don't ever say it, Kayleen. In your place, I would have done worse. I would
have betrayed you, my sisters, everybody, anything as long as they stopped the
torture. Your bravery has been beyond comparison,"
"It has all been in vain. You are a prisoner, Shandra betrayed us all for her
own perverted ends, and Zhorun will crush the whole kingdom under his heel
again," said Kayleen between brief, bitter cries.
"You make me afraid, Kayleen. What will be of me if you crumble ?"
Something clicked in Kayleen's mind. Zhorun had wanted Lyral back so that her
healing power could offset the damage from the torture. Potions did not cut it,
as she could testify, and Zhorun's supply would not last forever. The moment
he obtained her own submission, Lyral would become a toy for the swarthy old
pig to rape at leisure. The thought of her young friend being subjected to the
horrors the Southerner found pleasurable chilled her to the bone.
"I told you already, Lyral. I won't give up. But the toll is heavy," she said,
hoping that her words were enough, since her friend was sobbing softly.
During the rest of the night, she made an effort to stifle her screams of pain,
although the accursed spider gag which stretched her mouth wide open,
lacerated the corners and scratched her cheeks made it difficult. Lyral was
singing something under her breath, whose words Kayleen could not discern, but
which soothed her anguish somewhat. Somewhere between gratitude, hatred and
duty she would have to find some of her resolve again.
When morning came, Shandra entered after Zhorun. Grod lowered Kayleen on the
floor while the Southerner brought Lyral before Zhorun. The young Priestess
managed to ignore the old man, who used to scare her witless, because she had
eyes only for her poor friend. Torchlight revealed that Kayleen's formerly
stunning beauty had been horridly ravaged, with her body covered with ghastly
bite wounds and purple, oozing burns while her joints were swollen to almost
twice their size and her crotch was horribly battered and bleeding. Two shreds
of raw burned flesh oozed on top of the mauled mounds on her chest, and her
muscles trembled intermittently.
"May I heal her ?" she asked, her lip trembling, watching Zhorun. He nodded.
She crawled near her friend, turned to bring her hands onto her face and
concentrated. Almost immediately, a deep sigh coursed through Kayleen's body
as her wounds receded slowly. Lyral caressed her friend, muttering under her
breath continuing the healing process. She trembled when Kayleen's lips
brushed against her arms in anguished gratitude, fighting to hide her tears.
"Be strong, Kayleen. I'll be with you to the end," she whispered softly.
The Southerner waited for the blonde beauty to be fully healed, up to the
restoration of her pubic hair, then grabbed Kayleen's ankle cuffs and fastened
them to chains, pulling her off the floor, her legs spread taut. Grod
blindfolded Lyral, ignoring her pleads, and left her on the floor arched in a
savage hogtie. Kayleen's wrists and elbows were cuffed together behind her
back, then the swarthy old man fetched a thick braided whip.
The old man sent the whip across Kayleen's stretched buttocks, leaving an
angry welt and causing her to rattle her chains and arch between harsh gasps.
A second lash immediately followed, tracing a ragged purple stripe across her
firm breasts while she hissed in pain. Shandra stood silent.
With cruel abandon, the Southerner whipped Kayleen's writhing body, wrenching
harsh gasps and bitter cries from her mouth as her renewed health was again
confronted with pain. His aim was spotless, and angry welts accumulated on
Kayleen's thighs, buttocks and breasts. When the whip cut into her slit, a
scream surged from her mouth while her blonde mane shook in agony.
The untiring barrage was striping Kayleen's writhing body with purple welts,
some of which bled where another lash had crossed the first, wrenching harsh
gasps and brief screams from her mouth. When her labia and clitoris were
targeted, all could hear true agony creep in her howls.
At a gesture from Zhorun, the whipping stopped and Grod neared, tightened the
collar crushing Kayleen's windpipe, and dragged her to another torture device.
Kayleen had been forced to straddle wooden rails before, but this one
consisted of two iron plates forming a wedge, and as she was forced to
straddle it she noticed with a cry that the plates were set with small spikes.
He left her elbows cuffed together behind her back, but freed her wrists,
fastening them to chains from the ceiling. Her lip trembled when he placed her
breasts between the spiked jaws of a heavy breast press, to which he fastened
the chains which ran through pulleys to her wrists. When her ankles were
pulled off the floor and fastened to the back of the device, she soon found
herself forced to spread her thighs wide to avoid the spikes, sawing her slit
onto the edge of the iron planks which soon became stained with her blood.
Grod shortened the chains at her wrists so that her breasts were pulled up
painfully, forcing her arms to twist into a hitherto undiscovered source of
agony if she wanted to save her breasts from the crushing bite of the vise.
The torment in her slit and breasts was enough to wrench occasional harsh
screams from her, but the worst was about to come. Grod fetched a brazier and
placed it under the iron plates, then tightened the vise around her breasts
causing her to howl in agony as the spikes drew blood.
Her screams continued as she jerked her chest left and right, trashing madly
at the mauling of her breasts, but over time a new horror crept in her face as
the plates heated relentlessly, forcing her to flail her thighs in the vain
attempt to offset her fate. The spikes, whose body reached down into the
brazier, were already red hot, and each time they scraped the inside of her
thighs a howl escaped her mouth and she ground her slit on the edge.
As the heat increased, her efforts became frantic and the red hot spikes cut
shallow sizzling gashes inside her twitching thighs, causing her to trash
wildly and scream in bitter despair as the progression of her torment appeared
in all its deviousness. She lacked leverage to lift off the device, and soon
the heat would slowly scorch her bleeding sex.
She tried to push on the cuffs around her ankles, which had been fastened to
the rear of the device to pull her feet off the floor, but the legs had been
forced to fold and she only managed to push herself a few inches forward along
the edge, sawing the metal through her slit with a scream of quivering agony.
In her wild flailing, she realized that by exerting her arms she could pull on
the vise constricting her breasts, gaining a fraction of an inch of respite
for her singed slit at the expense of having her breasts ripped by the spikes
in the vise. She tried once, then twice, but soon the agony in the bleeding
breasts surpassed the searing pain between her legs and she let go, howling
upon contact with the hot iron.
New howls surged from her mouth once Grod started dragging a curved red hot
iron along the folds of her soles, scorching them piecewise while the agony
between her legs and on her breasts increased mercilessly. He also moved the
iron to her back, forcing her to lean forward, increasing the weight on her
breasts and forcing her to spread her thighs even wider.
The iron plates were now a dull red, and her screams an uninterrupted litany
of mad pain. She clenched her fists to pull on the breast vise, shredding her
bleeding breasts between howls of demented tormented, just to gain whatever
respite she could for her singed slit, where purple swaths of oozing skin
crisscrossed the soft flesh. In places, raw flesh already showed where the
skin had stuck to the red hot iron.
When the pain in her breasts became unbearable, her arms gave, and she fell on
the red hot edge with a tortured wail which rose to a pitch of howling torment
as her thighs were pierced by the spikes again, causing her to jerk them up
like wings bringing her weight to bear on the edge scorching her slit.
Grod poured the contents of the jug down her through, continuing in spite of
her sputtering as she choked in pain, listening as her repeated flailing
furthered her agonies and the burns between her labia turned to angry, oozing
blisters which burst when her arms gave and she dragged her raw flesh on the
red hot edge in frenzies of harrowing torment.
Her agony continued unabated as she kept writhing on the edge, screaming in
pain as the heat burned new blisters between her labia and the vise bloodily
savaged her purplish breasts. Grod had to repeatedly douse her with cold water
and pour the contents of the jug down her screaming mouth to keep her from
sliding into shock as her crotch was slowly scorched and peeled off.
Almost casually, Grod produced a pair of copper hooks which he slowly drove
through her nipples, causing her to buckle and scream as the new torment for a
moment surpassed the blistering agony in her slit. The hooks were connected to
long copper chains which he wound under the plates. He then released her ankle
cuffs, bending her legs behind her and pulling the ankle cuffs back until they
could be fastened to the copper chains pulled through holes in the plates.
Almost immediately, the pitch of Kayleen's screams changed because now each
convulsed twitch from her legs, especially when her thighs twitched from the
agony of the red hot spikes, pulled on the hooks, sending white hot blazes of
pain radiating from her distorted nipples. To prevent her increasingly
desperate jerks from ripping her nipples off, he used pliers to tighten iron
clamps on the elongated nubs of feminine flesh.
As the scorching of her femininity had seen no interruption, her agony was
leaping beyond the bounds of human endurance. Previous applications of fire
had been intermittent, but even restored to full health she could not endure
the torment wrought on her. When she tasted the healing potion in her mouth,
the soothing of her scorched flesh turned to dismay as she realized how her
tormentor had chosen to protract her torture, and the stabbing pain of hooks
stretching her clitoris confirmed her fears.
While she tried to preserve the temporarily restored flesh between her labia,
Grod reached for a screw on the front of the device and started twisting it,
causing a wickedly serrated steel rail to rise between the plates, already red
hot from having been near the brazier. She tried to pull herself away from the
cutting dents which drew blood from her blistered innards, screaming madly in
the vain effort to stay away before falling back with a squirt of blood as her
chest was wracked by howls of hopeless anguish.
If the agonies of the red hot plates had been harrowing, the dents in the
serrated edge introduced a new depth of horror. The slightest move raked the
red hot protrusions across blistered skin and raw flesh, and the incessant
torment in her thighs, breasts and nipples provided uninterrupted causes for
convulsed jerks of desperate agony. Her voice waned and waxed in howls of raw
pain, and blood from the cuts sizzled on the red hot iron plates.
Kayleen's eyes sought between tears Lyral's pale body, but focused on a mass
of red hairs and a pale face instead. With seething rage, she watched her
former friend strain to keep her horror hidden. As her head jerked up in a
scream when a red hot dent lacerated her inner labia again, any consideration
of how her former friend had put herself in a situation beyond her herself was
melted as the searing of her femininity fueled bitter hatred.
As her agony on the serrated edge continued, it took her time to realize that
a new pain was mounting, because the heat caught by the chains ended up making
the hooks in her nipples searing hot. Her jaw set between desperate howls, and
for a moment it looked like she could bend the steel of her spider gag, but
she only managed to arch in convulsed agony in the vain effort to rip the
hooks from her nipples before falling back on the dented edge with a tortured
scream of pitiful agony as she twisted her pelvis left and right, bringing her
thighs repeatedly at the mercy of the red hot spikes.
Just as she thought that no torment could be worse than the continued
shredding of her crotch by the red hot dented edge, Grod cranked something
under her and she felt in horror a red hot metal tip rising between the
plates, pushing into her sphincter whose skin stuck to the searing surface
causing her to pull madly on her nipples, her fists clenching in the effort to
distance her sphincter from the rising intruder tormenting it.
As the iron pole slowly rose to impale her, her howls rose under the vaults of
the torture chamber as her breasts distended into cones of bleeding agony
under the pull of her own mad jerks. The pole had ridges and spikes, and was
meant to rake and wound rather than distend, so when she could no longer hold
herself up, she fell down on its full length with a pitiful howl of defeat and
found the red hot dented edge ready to shred her femininity again.
She was given some drops of potion, which she tried to swallow between mad
screams as the torment of her bowels continued unabated, and the repeated
splashes with cold water eased her torment somewhat as they momentarily cooled
the device, but she was never once given further respite from the scorching
and shredding of her feminine flesh, which was cut through each time she fell
down from her trembling attempts to distance herself from the heat.
Her torment continued in spite of her rapidly dwindling endurance, of the
horrible agony in the crushed and torn breasts which after repeatedly bearing
her weight had been flattened to purple masses of raw agony which the spikes
ran through to scrape the wood on the opposite ends of the vise, of the
savage torment of her nipples as the blood sizzled on the red hot copper of
the hooks. Her crotch was crisscrossed by angry burns and oozing blisters
which the dented edges had repeatedly lacerated, and the spiked pole in her
bowels burned her flesh relentlessly as the last remnants of her voice surged
from her mouth in desperate howls of unparalleled anguish.
Just as the hooks in her clitoris became searing hot, Grod cranked something
under her again and a second red hot pole rose, pushing the iron plates aside
and making her stretch her thighs spasmodically to escape the spikes, although
she no longer had the strength to pull herself up and could only tremble and
twitch as the pole penetrated her, pushing aside the shreds of her labia
while its red hot spikes tore bleeding gashes inside her, wracking her sweat
soaked body into frenzies of convulsed howling as the torment reached heights
she had not imagined even in her worst nightmares.
With two red hot poles in her orifices, it took repeated doses of potion and
sips from the jug to keep her on the peak of agony, forcing her to lacerate
her nipples and clitoris in the desperate effort to remove the sizzling hooks
which had been solidly clamped in place. Now her thighs had little to nothing
room left to distance the red hot spikes, but the blood from the cuts inside
the thighs was but a fraction of what sizzled on the red hot edge as her
bowels and womb were being shredded while she jerked in spasmodic torment,
impaled on the spiked red hot poles. Her voice rose in pitched howls which
turned into wheezing fits of inarticulate gurgling, and spasms of agony
wracked her trembling body while foam bubbled in her mouth as she tried to
articulate a plea, calling for Lyral's soothing touch.
In spite of the uninterrupted torment, something in her still managed to hold
on, sustained by the thought of her last friend's fate and by blasts of hatred
for her tormentors. The Southerner was becoming restless, but disentangling
her quivering body from the device took quite some time, and Grod was about to
let her have some potion when the other gestured his disagreement.
He dragged Kayleen to a post, cuffed her elbows and wrists together and forced
her to bend her head until he could fasten both against the post, then cuffed
chains from the ceiling to her ankles and pulled her legs off the floor,
spreading her thighs obscenely before his aroused manhood.
Before a surprised Shandra could say anything, pausing only an instant to
take in Kayleen's muscular back, stretched buttocks and blistered sphincter,
the swarthy old man thrust his member into her scorched, scraped rectum, with
enough force to cause the wooden post to creak, although the noise was
immediately dwarfed by Kayleen's bitter scream.
"This is an accepted method of eliciting cooperation, my apprentice,"
whispered Zhorun, "I expect thee to devise something better."
Kayleen's harsh screams resonated in the torture chamber as the old man's
member raked her scraped and scorched insides, which he had not wanted healed
to savor how his manhood fanned the agony of lacerated flesh anew. His lust
quickly spent, the Southerner nonetheless lingered with his member inside
her bowels, enjoying for a while how his twists caused her further agonies.
After a while, he pulled out and fetched a tray, from which he picked up a
thick needle which he slid under the scorched flesh of Kayleen's left buttock,
pushing it sideways across the muscle while she howled shaking from pain.
When he used pliers to grab the tip of the needle and pull it, everybody
realized that the needle was being used to thread some kind of cord.
Her screams rose to desperate howls as the cord was pulled through the
scorched flesh, because it was knotted at regular intervals and the knots dug
a bloody trace of howling torment through blistered and burned tissue. The jug
was brought to her mouth, and she drank from it between gasps.
Each knotted cord subsequently threaded through her firm buttocks caused her
to madly rattle her chains, while her fingers wriggled helplessly above the
tight wrist cuffs and her toes curled and flexed as unspeakable torment
wracked her convulsing body. As more threads were pulled through the scorched
flesh, her agonies were increased by dragging them back and forth, or by
yanking two or three at the same time to watch her arch in midair, her muscles
rigid in unspeakable torment which could be protracted at leisure.
Cackling softly, he continued threading cords through her firm body, always
pushing the needle through stiff muscle when singed flesh was not available,
then slowly threading the knots one at a time through the wound, listening to
the progression of howls from her mouth as each knot added to the pain. After
her back, he threaded dozens of cords through her strained arms, watching her
long, supple legs rattle the chains holding them while she cried in despair.
The reason of this inspection turned up soon enough, when he started threading
cords through her lower limbs, alternating between the taut muscles of her
legs and the scorched, wounded insides of her thighs, causing her loins to
twitch spasmodically left and right while choked screams wracked her suspended
body as yanking the cords caused the flesh to pull and deform horribly.
Left alone, the cords by themselves would staunch the bleeding somewhat, but
pulling them back and forth as he repeatedly did caused blood to spurt while
unspeakable torment coursed through the wound, causing her voice to rise in
anguished despair followed by fits of choked howling.
She was doused with cold, salt water, causing her new agonies as the salt
seeped in her wounds. Her aroused tormentor, instead of grabbing her hips,
grabbed the ends of cords running through her thighs and pulled to drive his
erect member deep into her scorched rectum again, drooling at the desperate
howl which shook her body as a consequence.
Pulling left and right while he thrust his member violently inside her bowels,
the old man panted and cackled while Kayleen screamed in bitter pain, which
worsened when he pulled out to ream her insides with white powder which dried
them, denying even the respite of lubrication by blood when her rape was
subsequently resumed in earnest and cruelly protracted.
"Our esteemed guest from the South is no longer in his prime, and can use a
little help," commented Zhorun when Shandra noticed the Southerner consuming
something during Kayleen's violation. The explanation left the red-haired
sorceress gaping in disbelief at perversions she never contemplated before.
Panting, the Southerner released Kayleen from her suspension and fastened the
bands at her knees and thighs together before cuffing her ankles to a chain
from the ceiling. Like the wider band at her waist, these tight iron bands
worn without interruption for days had been a constant torment, chafing and
nicking skin and rubbing agonizingly over wounds as they slid over the limbs.
But this was nothing compared to the pain caused when he threaded the cords
running in her thighs and buttocks to those in her legs, shortening them so
that she had to keep her legs partially bent at the knee or have the knotted
cords rip through her flesh, a position sustaining which brought harrowing
screams when he lifted her completely off the floor by her ankles.
He let her hang there, screaming as the least attempt to distend her legs
resulted in devastating pain in her buttocks and thighs. After a while, he
produced a thick wooden pole and started pushing it in her vagina, screwing it
left and right while she howled in demented pain at the violation and at the
tearing of her flesh as keeping her legs bent proved almost beyond her means.
Somehow, she managed to endure the penetration without ripping the cords out
of her buttocks and thighs, although at the price of harrowing fits of
demented howling as the knots coursed back and forth in the wounds. When the
jug was offered to her, she drank avidly between fits of coughing.
The Southerner fetched another needle and slowly pushed it through her
dangling left breast, followed by the knotted cord and making sure to pull
down on it whenever she stopped screaming and convulsing from the pain. One
cord after another, he wound her breasts in a web of bloody torment, which
increased when he started soaking the cord in a powder which caused it to
chafe and burn inside the wounds, bringing her to spasmodic convulsions while
howls of unbridled agony surged uninterruptedly from her foaming mouth.
After both nipples had the fourth cord threaded through their sides,
distorting horribly whenever he yanked on the cords to force her to bend at
the waist in spite of the thick wooden pole impaling her, he straddled her and
grabbed the cords running through her bleeding breasts, pulling her chest up
between his legs and keeping her there, screaming and gurgling with her head
shaking left and right in relentless pain.
With a leer distorted by lust, he slid his erect manhood between her bleeding
breasts and pulled viciously on the cords, shredding the wounds as the knots
coursed through the firm flesh in rhythm with his thrusts. The first of many
desperate howls surged through her mouth as her neck distended in unbridled
agony, her jaw almost dislocating under the waves of torment rising from her
shredded nipples and the tormented flesh of her breasts. As he accompanied
each thrust downward with a pull on the cords, the agony of the knots coursing
inside the wounds in her thighs and buttocks raked her flesh mere moments
before the pain from her distorted breasts joined it, while the same cords
ripped another bit through her flesh each time he let her down.
Although the worst pain came from her nipples, which the knots were literally
shredding from inside between squirts of blood and gut-wrenching howls of mad
torment, he was pleasuring himself by tightening her breasts around his erect
manhood, folding the firm flesh to form a crevice of constricted flesh.
He clamped her nipples to prevent them from being shred to tatters, then kept
up his frenzied thrusts for a long time, tightening his grip on the cords in
search of a release which came only after many knots had ripped through her
breasts and nipples between bloody jerks and screams of desperate agony.
Even after his semen squirted on her neck and face, he continued yanking the
cords to rip more knots through her wounds, smiling while she tried between
screams to spit the drops entering her mouth. When he finally let her go,
hanging upside and swinging slowly, her breasts were crisscrossed by gashes
where the flesh had been ripped through by the cords, and to stop her profuse
bleeding he yanked her head until he brought her back against the face of her
friend, still sobbing from what she had been forced to witness.
The touch was enough to make Lyral tremble in horror, but she concentrated on
her power again, recognizing the need of her friend and conveying her healing
power through the inadequate conduct provided by the lips. Shandra watched
with surprise the horrid tears in Kayleen's breasts recede visibly, although
the nipples were still bleeding because other wounds were being healed.
"Priestly healing is not necessarily appropriate, my apprentice. Sometimes an
executioner would prefer sensitive areas to be restored first, in order to
bring them under duress sooner," quipped Zhorun.
Where the cords still coursed through wounds, Lyral's healing was nullified as
soon as it occurred, but the Southerner kept Kayleen in contact until he saw
her nipples recover, although not long enough to heal fully. Words formed in
Kayleen's mouth, but as she swung back they were drowned by a scream brought
about by the knots coursing again through the wounds in her thighs, and she
forgot them because he started yanking the cords in her breasts, left and
right, causing her to twirl in howling torment.
When he finally let her down, her breasts and nipples bled again, although not
as profusely as before, and he fastened her wrists to the chain, pulling her
arms up behind her back in a position which he had used on her so many times
that she shuddered, sobbing bitterly at the forthcoming pain. He subsequently
pulled her legs up, spreading them wide and fastening her ankles to a wedge
shaped steel bar placed behind her elbows, forcing her to bend at the waist.
To add his own personal touch to a technique he owed to Grod, he undid some of
the cords coursing through her legs to redo them differently, threading longer
cords through her breasts and nipples before reaching between her legs. Her
screams of bitter agony as knots coursed relentlessly inside her wounds raced
after each other when he pushed a needle through her left labia, threading a
cord soaked in caustic powder through the soft flesh, each knot wrenching a
ghastly scream from her torn mouth. The worst came when he threaded thin cords
through her clitoris, raking the knots through her flesh while she gurgled her
agony in desperate frenzies of fitful agony.
When ready, he pulled her off the floor by her wrists, twisting her arms in
their sockets while she cried in pain, and slid under her until his erect
member was placed under her vagina, painfully spread by the knotted cords
coursing through the labia and rim. He lowered her on his member, causing her
to howl like a demented animal because she was sliding down knotted threads
coursing through wounds all over her body, including her nipples and clitoris.
He then tightened the thread around her rim and yanked her up, pulling other
threads running through her breasts to lift her off in a howling jerk followed
by a hoarse scream as she slid down again.
He continued pulling her up and down with demented abandon, causing the cords
to course through her wounds among spurts of blood, distorting her breasts and
ripping the flesh open on each jerk. The knots in the tight ring constricting
her vagina rubbed his manhood through her flesh, bringing him further pleasure
and wreaking unspeakable agonies through her tender femininity. He made sure to
yank the thread occasionally, as it loosened from repeated traction, soaking
the despair this brought to her eyes like the finest of wines.
When he let her down, the orifice curled into folds by the knotted thread was
violently distended by his erect manhood, which found the knobbed grip almost
as pleasurable as her strangled howl of abject pain. The yank on her twisted
shoulder joints was almost forgotten before the agony of having her nipples
and clitoris violently traversed by two or three knots each time. If he had
not clamped them, they would have been shredded after a few pulls.
Under the effect of the drugs, his arousal was inordinately protracted and
quickly restoked, allowing him to enjoy her agonies several times, using the
white powder to dry her insides and wrapping his member in a spiked leather
harness to see her convulse in even more abject agony when he found the need
to compensate the dwindling of his frenzied lust. When he finally let her
down, her bleeding body was shaken by tremors while uninterrupted wheezing
screams surged from her foaming mouth.
The Southerner brought her briefly in contact with Lyral's lips again,
watching her wounds recede and proceeding to remove the cords, causing her to
scream again in demented pain, before letting Lyral heal her for some time. He
then dragged her under a chain which he fastened to her waist band, cuffing
her arms and belts to chains fastened to rings in the floor and pulling her up
by her waist until she hung belly up in mid air.
Kayleen had been unable to, but Lyral had paid attention to his preparations,
hearing metallic noises as items were being shuffled about, and the
recollection of her agony from the bronze cat jumped to her mind. He tightened
a vise shaped like a crocodile head across Kayleen's toes, enough to rekindle
her screams, and Lyral found her worst fears confirmed when he used a large
white hot pair of pliers to turn it red hot.
A gurgling scream wracked Kayleen's body because the device not only was
searing the tender flesh under her toes, but was apparently built of different
metals and deformed when heated, grinding its red hot metal teeth into her
flesh with relentlessly increasing force.
The same torment was repeated on her other foot and on her fingers, wrenching
howls of bitter pain from her twitching frame. Another crocodile encased her
left breast, and Lyral's eyes barely had time to widen before demented howls
of unbridled pain rose in the room as the red hot jaws cut into the firm
flesh, causing Kayleen's body to jerk spasmodically in screaming torment as
her breast was scorched and lacerated mercilessly while her tormentor kept
the crocodile red hot by frequently changing the pliers.
Although she tried to buckle away, another crocodile was placed on her labia
and soon she arched in demented agony as the tender flesh was scorched and
cut by the tightening copper jaws while she buckled and rattled her chains.
Pouring the contents of the jug down her mouth proved easy, thanks to her
position, but she fought the attempts to wind around her left arm a contraption
of metal bands in the fashion of a constrictor snake, twitching as the scales
cut bleeding scrapes in her skin. In spite of her efforts, he slowly tightened
it using screws and then started placing white hot iron nuggets in the
recesses spaced evenly along its length, causing it to contract around the
limb while the copper scales turned hotter and hotter.
Soon pain started wracking her limb and surging in pitiful screams as the
torment mounted uninterruptedly in spite of her convulsed jerks. Her eyes
darted to her other arm, where he was starting to assemble another metallic
snake, but the agony in the constricted limb increased beyond the shallow cuts
from the red hot scales as the bones of the forearm started hurting under the
mounting pressure. Meanwhile the constriction of her other arm had been
started and her tormentor started replacing the nuggets which had cooled off
with freshly heated ones, keeping her in screaming agony as her bones were
slowly cracked while red hot scales mercilessly raked her twitching limbs.
He continued the torment until the noise of cracking bone made itself heard
among her screams, although drowned immediately by a gut-wrenching howl from
her frothing mouth, and then set about winding a similar contraption around
her legs in spite of her convulsed attempts to wriggle free. As her hands
clenched and curled spasmodically, another crack could be heard between her
pitched howls as the agony from broken bones swept her twitching body.
Methodically, her tormentor heated the spires constricting her legs, bringing
her voice again to pitches of horrid agony after a brief lapse of sobbing
exhaustion. Her supple, strong legs took much longer to crack, a protracted
nightmare of red hot shredding by the copper scales while the bones creaked in
ever tightening anguish and foam bubbled from her mouth whenever she howled
her unbridled despair. When the sound of cracking bone echoed in the room, her
voice had been reduced to a wheezing croak, and the unspeakable pain wracked
her heaving chest like epileptic convulsions.
She drank from the jug in long, desperate gulps and immediately her renewed
energy burst from her throat in bitter screams. He lowered her on the floor,
and bent her broken and scratched legs at the knee against a wedge-shaped
steel bar before doing the same with her arms. Her wrists were then pulled
behind her up to her ankles, forcing her to arch to relieve the pain on her
broken limbs. The relief proved short lived because she was then hung between
the two bars, stretching her broken limbs into screaming torment.
Another metal contraption, fashioned after a coiling cobra, was fixed to her
chest and tightened on her left breast with pliers, bending the jaws until
they caught her nipple and distended the firm flesh by snapping back up while
she twitched in horrible agony as the pain had strained her broken limbs. New
tears streaked her face when a white hot iron nugget was inserted in the device
and it started singeing her nipple while the neck of the cobra distended,
stretching the bleeding nub of female flesh and the coil tightened on the rest
of her breast while the scales turned hot.
Her convulsed jerks made securing another coiled cobra on her other breast
difficult, but her tormentor had time and when the first one was already
making her left nipple sizzle and smoke between the fiery jaws, the second had
just began tightening. As she buckled and jerked spasmodically, screaming at
the top of her lungs, her broken limbs twitched under the flesh and even cut
through the skin in places, causing profuse bleeding which was summarily
staunched with cauterization. Slowly, her breasts were being blistered all
over by the tightening copper coils while, between hoarse screams of pure
agony, her nipples sizzled and oozed in the merciless grip of the fiery jaws.
After pouring the contents of the jug in her sputtering mouth, he placed a
spiderlike contraption on her vulva, pushing the legs under the folds of her
labia and tightening the oversized jaws on her clitoris while she arched in
pain while the second cobra heated fully. He let her buckle and scream until
the cobras started cooling off, then inserted a white hot iron nugget in the
device in her crotch. She felt it heat and started buckling in the mad attempt
to dislodge it, tearing ugly cuts in her clitoris but failing in her intent as
the legs of the device were distending and piercing the folds of her labia,
securing it into place and getting hotter by the minute.
The tendons of her neck distended in a wretched howl as the searing bite on
her femininity became intolerably hot and the red hot legs punctured her
insides, wracking spasms of unspeakable torment through her body which brought
her broken limbs to twitch agonizingly inside her aching limbs. Two freshly
heated nuggets rekindled the torment of her nipples, and the agony in her
vagina raged unabashed while she twitched between screams of raw agony.
Her screams waned and waxed as he changed the nuggets with freshly heated
ones, keeping her torment continuously stoked so that her convulsed jerks
wracked her broken limbs into twitching frenzies of wretched agony. Nipples
and clitoris were covered in sizzling blood and peeled raw by the heat, with
the copper jaws tearing them slowly to shreds while wracking fits of howling
torment shook her twitching frame and surged in hoarse cries from her mouth.
She was lowered and brought close enough for Lyral, still blindfolded, to
smell her and extend her lips to deliver her healing again. Tears streaked the
young Priestesses' face under the blindfold as she felt the anguish of her
friend, whose pain was such that she could barely articulate anything beyond
harsh gasps and wheezing screams.
"I can't ... " choked Kayleen, coughing blood. Lyral tried to intensify the
delivery of her healing power, crying in the hope to cover her friend's words.
"I can't ... take ..." repeated Kayleen, alerting the Easterner who yanked her
head to inspect the face, still contorted in unspeakable agony.
"The fabled Warrior Queen has collapsed rather quickly," spat Shandra, loud
enough to make onlookers turn in surprise. Lyral sobbed silently and tried to
whisper "I am here, Kayleen" in her friend's ear.
The words of the two women reached Kayleen's pain-wracked mind almost at the
same time, and stoked her rage. The friend she had betrayed was facing the
torments of hell with the her, while the one she had withstood untold agonies
for had betrayed her.
"It took you much less to sell yourself, bitch" spat Kayleen, enraged.
"You'll have ample occasion to regret your foul words," whispered Zhorun.
Kayleen was lowered on the floor, where her knees and thighs were cuffed
together, just like her elbows and wrists, behind her back. She was then
dragged screaming to a post, around whose base her feet were cuffed. A chain
was used to pull her wrists from behind her, forcing her body to slump forward
in a light arch while she screamed in horrid pain as heinous agonies wracked
her quivering, broken limbs forced to bear her full weight.
A long metal pole with the head fashioned after a porcupine was slid between
her distended legs until it reached her vagina, at which her tormentor guided
it so that it snug against the lower cleft and distended the upper, bulging
inside her and pushing her clitoris outward while she howled from the pain of
the violation, the barbs on the head and the pull on her broken legs. In her
pain, she failed to realize the deviousness of her predicament, because her
arms had been pulled back towards her calves, not up towards the ceiling, so
her weight now rested on the barbed head and yet pulled agonizingly on her
broken arms and legs, which twitched intermittently in bitter pain.
Ignoring her harsh sobs and occasional, pitched screams of despair, he wound
tightly around her body long threads of clamps fashioned after marching ants,
one following the other, the legs pinching her flesh after a quick grip with
the pliers which caused her to twitch with a brief scream.
The coals roaring nearby left little doubt about what would follow, and her
sobs turned into wracking jerks when he clasped her nipples and clitoris
between jaws fashioned after a dragon's head weighted down by a copper jug
heavy with liquid. The final step in the preparation of her ordeal was a long
wedge-shaped metal bar snug under her arms, to whose ends he fastened two
chains ending in two curved hooks, of which one from each side was used to
stretch her sphincter and the other to stretch her inner labia.
A sobbing scream of dread wracked her when he dragged a coal brazier under the
pole, because the heat immediately started licking her soles and she found out
that moving caused the barbed head she straddled to rake her insides and push
against the upper cleft of her vagina, while the curved hooks stretched her
orifices and the clasps drew tiny droplets of blood. As the torment of her
soles continued and the pole heated, the barbs on the head started rising and
her voice broke in a wretched scream as she realized that her innards would be
roasted and raked by the porcupine head she straddled.
Just as she started to twitch on the head, he dragged another, larger brazier
directly under her, from knees to breasts, whose heat rose immediately along
with her howl of agony and despair as the heat singed her flesh. He had made
sure that the ends of the chains of copper ants fell in the raging coals, so
that one by one each would heat, the pinch tightening and searing the flesh
while pulling it up against the scorching copper body.
She started convulsing in screaming pain, her scorched toes curling as the
heat reddened her soles and her hands clenching and stretching while her chest
heaved and buckled, wracked by howls of helpless torment which rose one after
the other as the searing barbs started cutting the tender flesh inside her
vagina while the ants pinched folds of her thighs, belly and breasts in a
vicious, scorching grip which rose along the chains wound around her body,
buckling left and right wracking heinous agonies through her quivering limbs
as she screamed and howled in wretched, raging pain.
Her tormentor grabbed her by the hair and poured the contents of the jug down
her sputtering mouth, well aware that soon her pain would increase. The oil
inside the jugs trapping her nipples and clitoris was beginning to sizzle the
trapped pieces of feminine flesh, rising between the clenched jaws with hot
droplets of unbearable pain which surged through her mouth as she convulsed
in spasms of atrocious torment. Her soles had turned crimson, and the flesh
caught in the grip of the copper ants blistered and oozed under the relentless
searing grip. Her innards sizzled and bled as she jerked spasmodically on the
red hot barbs, wracked by the torment of the porcupine head bulging under her
mons as if about to rip through, the barbs piecing through the flesh and
tearing blistering gashes in her vulva.
The sizzling agony in her nipples and clitoris mounted to unbearable levels
and compounded the agonies wracking her body, wrenching spasmodic howls of
absolute agony from her torn mouth before her voice waned to a pitiful wheeze
as her ability to vent the pain coursing through her body dwindled. She was
given a few sips of healing potion, which redressed her worst wounds and
restoked the agony in her voice, protracting her torment some more in spite of
the skin peeling from her soles and the blisters bursting in the grip of the
copper ants all over her body. A sip from the jug renewed her strength for a
while, and kept her convulsing on the barbed pole for some more time.
She had to be given a sip from the potion again, because her soles were now
scorched raw like the insides of her vagina, while the barbs had shredded her
vulva, with long gashes of singed flesh and crimson pieces of peeled meat hung
between copper jaws were her nipples and clitoris once stood. Her screams
echoed again under the vaults of the torture chamber.
The agony of her broken limbs was almost forgotten before the burst and
pierced blisters all over her body, especially her breasts where the flesh had
been shredded raw by too many copper ants, often hanging tenuously after
ripping through the burnt flesh under their weight. She kept howling as blood
mixed with foam at her mouth while she agonized on the barbed head.
Spasmodic jerks and demented howls wracked her body from toe to chin when her
exhausted muscles recovered enough to react to the uninterrupted torment,
while her voice rose in wheezing screams and waned in bitter gasps when they
didn't, her lips forming the name "Lyral" as her voice failed to speak it.
When her torturer decided to finally end the torment, it still took work and
further agonies to disentangle her from the post. When Grod stepped in, she
was dragged to where Lyral hung blindfolded and upon Zhorun's assent her head
was jerked up so that Lyral could reach her with her lips.
A harrowing moan shook Kayleen's devastated body as the soothing effect of her
friend's healing power coursed through her burns and wounds, the worst of
which were allowed to recede before Grod yanked her away. Kayleen's cry of
bitter dismay was desperate enough to crack the vaults above, but Lyral spoke
softly between tears, "I'll be with you to the very end, Kayleen."
The burly executioner dragged his sobbing victim to a table which she
recognized as a rack, but a rack where rows of spiked rollers awaited the
unfortunate victim. To Kayleen's horror, he placed her with her front on the
rollers, instead of her back, and she tried to put up a fight with her meager
forces when the barbs raked through the burns in her breasts. Her broken limbs
made her effort vain, and she was soon stretched over the rollers, her sobs
increasing when more rollers were laid across her back and buttocks and
screwed down, squeezing her on the rollers below.
When he cranked the rack, her wrists pulled her body through the spiked
rollers as if squeezing her through, leaving dozens of bleeding cuts in her
scorched flesh and wrenching a demented scream which rose to a howl once the
her muscles were pulled across the places where her bones had been broken.
When the pain waned, she shuddered in terror at the thought of what would come
next. Several of her long bones were broken, or badly cracked, and pulling on
her limbs would break and splinter them well before they could be torn off
their sockets. For a moment, she wished a splinter would sever an artery and
bleed her to death. A wave of atrocious pain flashed from her arms as the
stretching resumed, followed by the agony of dozens of cuts and the harsh
tearing of the flesh when her convulsed jerks raked the points inside the
cuts, burns and blisters fueling her voice into fits of helpless screaming.
Another wave of torment coursed through her arms when he released the tension
of the rack, and just as she twitched in spasmodic agony, a third blast of
white hot pain caught her when the rack was cranked again and blazing hot
torment rattled her arms and coursed through her quivering body while her
lungs shook from one harrowing screams after the other, her breath caught
short by the flashes of searing pain. He needed not bother with her joints if
healing could make her live through this, she realized.
He cranked the rack again, dragging her further along with a scream as the
cuts from the rollers compounded the agony in her arms, and then released her
before quickly cranking her back twice. Her screams echoed under the vaults in
harrowing fits of desperate pain. He kept cranking the rack, releasing her
occasionally so that she would snap back and twitch spasmodically from the
pain in her arms, raking the spikes inside her flesh between harrowing screams
of demented anguish. The places where her bones had been broken were now
visibly sunken, and he stopped her torment to encase them in tight splints and
let her sip avidly from the jug.
When her stretching resumed, she had been elongated enough that portions of
her back had been pulled clear of the rollers above, showing dozens of ugly
bleeding cuts. The rollers under her extended further, to make sure her
breasts would not fare so easily she thought, and the torment in her stretched
arms was slowly being matched by the agony of the rollers which increased with
each pull and the dozens of new cuts it brought. Her tremors were now almost
uninterrupted and the consequent trashing of her wounds wrenched uninterrupted
cries and screams from her drooling mouth.
As she was stretched further, another bone broke in her right arm and she
felt the tearing of her muscles as they stretched over the broken bone, while
pain mounted also where the bones of her legs had been broken. More cranking
and releasing wrought further harrowing screams from her wracked chest, and
when she was offered the jug again she was in such pain that most of what she
tried to drink she sputtered between screams.
Her tormentor moved to the other end of the rack and started cranking, pulling
on her legs and wrenching a desperate howl from her as pain coursed through
the broken bones in her lower limbs. After stretching her legs until her howls
became a single, uninterrupted bellow of desperate torment, he moved back and
released her arms one notch, an act which did not lessen her torment one bit
as her arms snapped from the release and the bones teetered along the fracture
lines, bringing gut-wrenching howls of helpless agony from her torn mouth.
He continued stretching her from her legs, slowly dragging her all the way
back through the rollers which had cut her when she was being pulled by her
arms. The points were her leg bones had been brisked were also wrapped with
splints. She was in too much pain to realize that the rollers had been made
small on purpose, so that over the course of a stretching they would complete
two or three full turns and subject her to the various kinds of spikes strewn
across them. Some were dull and long, some wickedly hooked, some had a forked
tip and the worst were thin razor sharp bristles of hard steel which shredded
the skin with a swath of parallel cuts.
When she had being dragged back about halfway, he reached her feet and pushed a
clamp under the nail of each pinky, which he then screwed wickedly shut while
her feet trembled as pain made her scream and bang her head on the wood. When
he resumed cranking, the clamps started pulling the nails out of their beds,
causing her to stiffen before bursting in a howl of mad torment which
continued while the nails were slowly ripped off.
She was doused with cold, salt water, and while she still writhed from the
salt seeping in her wounds two clamps were tightened on the nails of her
little fingers, and he resumed the stretching of her arms while slowly ripping
her fingernails off their beds between her protracted screams of wretched
agony. He methodically alternated between fingers and toes, occasionally using
salt water or a sip from the jug to revive her while ripping her fingernails,
stretching and releasing her broken limbs, dragging her back and forth through
the spiked rollers in abysses of pain and torment whose depth her voice soon
failed to relay, waning to wheezing howls of abject despair.
In the depths of atrocious torment, her broken limbs trembling from the
uninterrupted pull, it took her time to notice that he had bent under the
rack. A stab of searing white pain from her crotch fanned her voice to new
heights of deranged howling, because her tormentor was using a small scalpel
to trace crisscrossed shallow cuts through her mons, to which he patiently
attached small globs of sticky substance at the end of fine chains.
When done, a new agony burst from her crotch as a pan of coals was brought
under her, searing her flesh and clitoris as he moved it in small circles. The
scorching heat caused her to twitch and buckle, wracking horrendous pain in her
broken limbs and causing the spikes to trash in the wounds they seated in,
torments either of which would have been enough to wrench bitter screams from
her sore mouth but which together carried pain beyond her ability to voice it.
The true scope of the torment, however, was revealed when the candle was
removed and her legs cranked another notch, because her pubic hair had stuck
firmly in the dried globs and she felt its pull on the skin as her legs were
being stretched. After a few cranks, her howls were being fueled by the
ripping of her pubic hair, which often caused small patches of skin separated
by the shallow cuts to be pulled also. The release of the tension in her arms
wrenched new screams from her because of the agony from the broken bones but
helped none with the ripping of her pubic hair, and when the pull on her legs
resumed a patch of pubic hair and skin was pulled near ripping off while she
twitched in howling spams of wretched pain.
Slowly and excruciatingly, the first patch was ripped off her, while others
were being pulled from her bleeding mons in a steadily mounting nightmare of
unbridled anguish. Her pubic hair had been targeted before, but pulling by
hand was nothing like the protracted ripping notch by notch which wracked her
wounded body in wretched fits of convulsed pain between the spiked rollers.
The jug was brought to her lips, but her position and the continued pain made
sipping difficult. She drank enough to lend her voice some of her former
strength, which she spent soon after when after repeated cranking of her legs
she was dragged onto a roller unlike the others, a narrow wheel brimming with
short steel bristles placed to saw into her slit. The bristles punctured first
the area between her sphincter and the lower cleft of her vagina, then, guided
by his hands, the expanse between her inner lips and then, as he continued
pulling on her legs while she writhed in unspeakable torment from the agony of
her broken bones, the upper cleft. Slowly but inexorably, she was being
dragged into having her clitoris punctured by dozens of steel bristles.
Her agonies found new peaks, starting from her stretched limbs were the broken
bones showed under the trembling flesh, sunken and purplish from the traumas
of alternated stretching and releasing, the splints only intended to prevent
the severing of blood vessels. Her body from thighs to neck was punctured by
hundreds of wounds, some tiny and almost closed and others badly trashed,
bleeding and lacerated by her spasmodic twitches. Her mons was a bloody swath
of flayed flesh as hair and skin had been ripped off with excruciating
slowness, and the steel bristles were mercilessly piercing her clitoris.
The jug was brought to her lips again, and in spite of her efforts she all but
sputtered the contents between screams of harsh pain. Another liquid was then
poured on the rollers, and the acrid smell of bleach reached her nostrils just
as the substance flared in her bleeding wounds, causing her spasmodic jerks
desperate enough to rattle the wooden table in a howled frenzy of agony.
The bleach soaked the rollers at first, but as she was dragged back and forth
by stretching and releasing her limbs it was squeezed onto her wounds, burning
like molten lead and seeping in the cuts being further lacerated by her frenzy
of atrocious agony. Her voice waxed and waned endlessly in a pain which found
no avenue to its expanse, and even the splints barely managed to prevent her
from pushing the splintered head of her broken bones out of her own flesh.
"Lyral ..." she could be heard imploring between screams, a plea her young
friend could not fulfill until allowed by their torturers.
Her tormentor instead fulfilled Zhorun's silent will to the hilt, dragging her
back and forth on the bleach soaked rollers while her helpless scream rose
uninterrupted under the vaults of the torture chamber. She was never given
respite, except to let her sip from the jug in order to renew her strength.
She was squeezed mercilessly through the spiked rollers, notch by notch, by
pulling her from either pair or limbs until they almost tore at the point
where the broken bones teetered inside the trembling flesh, and then releasing
the other end while her voice surged in unbridled torment.
In a showoff of woeful expertise, Grod managed to protract her agonies until
she was in such deep shock that pain no longer reached her, all without having
her healed in any way. With Zhorun's assent, he extricated her from the rack
and dragged her trembling form near Lyral, letting the priestess heal her
friend for a while and then pulling Kayleen away when he noticed that her
fractured limbs were showing signs of redress. Kayleen's strangled cry of
bitter despair drowned Lyral's sobbing words as the splints were removed.
Zhorun gestured to have Kayleen brought before him. She lay there, coughing
and moaning, her broken arms kept together behind her back at the elbows and
wrists but her legs twitching as the ankle cuffs alone were no substitute for
the splints. Her body was still littered with spike wounds and her mons a
swath of pulsating raw flesh, but her tear-streaked face looked up.
"As thou should know, my apprentice, spells are devised to deal a decisive
blow," whispered Zhorun, raising his hands and then unleashing thin rays of
white light which traced bluish bruises on Kayleen's battered body, causing
her to buckle and scream as her flesh was being subjected to intense cold.
"Only the weakest, by virtue of the limited damage they inflict, can be of any
use in an interrogation," he added, and while Kayleen was still sobbing,
tongues of reddish flame left his gnarled fingers and washed over her body,
causing her to arch in screaming agony as the flames caused extensive burns.
"In any case, they're either instantaneous or soon expired. Thy test is about
this, my apprentice. I expect to be surprised by thy inventiveness."
|
|
|