“KORG!!! KORG! KORG!” The rhythmic chorus and drums from the surrounding hills made Alysea shudder. With some effort she tried to raise her head to the hillside where only ghostly shadows revealed the presence of certainly some thousand Orcs. A rude pull on the rope, and she stumbled forward again, trying to keep the balance. While a sharp pain from the pressure in her shoulder joints made her cough and groan. The bonds were a cruel torture for their own, her arms pressed on her back against the arm-wide wooden stake, that ended in an u-shaped metal fork pressing against her neck, at her throat fixed with rough ropes whose one end was in the hand of the orc who pulled her forward like an animal to the slaughterhouse. Alyseas shoulder were hurting like hell, and each slight move made them feel like breaking out of their sockets, each try to lower her arms to a little bit more comfortable position pressed the rope against her throat and strangled her cruelly.
What did they have in mind for her? She had to watch like all the other prisoners had been slaughtered by her captors, always waiting for her turn. But they treated her not so bad all the time during the long days of the travel into the badlands; so far away from the green forests of her home, that each hope of help from the army of her father was less than a stupid dream meanwhile. No torture, no abuse like the other captured females had to endure, she even still wear her tunic, even if the former shiny white, precious cloth has turned meanwhile to a dirty, stinking and sticking rag; but at least it gave her a kind of dignity, a small illusion of protection.
The chorus of the voices got louder and its rhythm faster, the whole air was filled, and a sudden pull made the prisoner finally loose her balance and send her to the ground, where she tried to regain breath and to relax her hurting arms as far as the ropes allowed… .A cold and smooth surface of some kind of polished marble, so cold, that it made her shiver when she touched it with the bare skin. A kind of rotten smell, sweet and disgusting like putrefying flesh rose in her nose and made her feeling sick. Too weak even to raise her head at the moment, she only saw the pale feet near her face and the robes, so black that they seemed to swallow even the ghostly light from the torches that enlightened the circular platform she was lying now with trembling limbs.
The figure said something in the guttural orcish language with a voice that made her blood freeze, and at once she felt forced on her knees, her arms pulled upwards even more, so that her face was pressed against the cold stone. The chorus of the Orcs had stopped know, for some short moments it was silent apart from the waves of the nearby sea and the low wind, a nearly peaceful silence, that was disturbed too soon by this horrifying voice again, who intonated a kind of ritual song.
This was obviously a kind of ritual, and Alysea knew too well, that she probably would play an important role during this ritual, an she was even more sure, that she wouldn’t like this at all. She closed her eyes and tried to forget, to pray to her own gods, but the singing voice from above filled her with terror, making it impossible to think at anything else than her near future.
Finally he stopped, and she was raised, still kneeling, but the torso hold upright, and then a hand touched her head and her face, the fingers hard like bones and even colder than the stone below her knees, colder than the death itself, and again a swell of rotten air filled nose and made her cough with sickness.
“A beauty of Royal blood, young pure and innocent… oh yes, you are the one I have looked for such a long time. Just the perfect bride for KORG and the perfect mother for his children.”
His look, his smell, his icy fingers on her cheeks and lips, all this terrified and shocked her too much to listen to his words. Alysea only realized that she should be sacrificed indeed to a cruel god or demon of those Orcs and this devilish priest who filled her heart with an unspeakable terror, that she tried to hide behind a furious look, a despiteful reply that made him only laugh in his rattling deep voice.
But then he let her head go, stepped back to this huge black statue that she avoided to watch until this moment and with a diabolic smile he laid his hand on the erected penis of the statue and he pointed at her. Her eyes widened in disbelieve, when she recalled his former words, understanding that ‘Bride of KORG’ had a realistic, cruel meaning.
She opened her mouth to protest, this huge thing could impossible fit, it would tear her in pieces, but the terror had paralyzed her voice, nothing but a stifled rattle passed her trembling lips.
“Yes, this is all for you, daughter of Kerlilias,” the devil feasted his eyes on the terror of the girl. “…and soon mother of KORG’s breed!”
A hooked spear hit the ring at the end of the stake that hold her arms, and she was lifted, pushed forwards and to the black statue. The pain from her shoulder increased still more, but at this moment she didn’t feel it all, could only stare at this giant penis, that seemed to grow even more, now she nearly touched it with her face.
posted August 17th, 2003
But then she was lifted more, her shoulder felt like breaking, when they suddenly had to carry all the weight of her body. Alysea screamed in pain, kicked in panic, rough hands hold her, ripped her dress off and finally she hung completely naked from the corns at the statues head, her legs hold widely spread by two Orcs, and the tip of demon’s penis touched her pussy lips, emitting such a cold that she thought her private parts would freeze to ice.
The priest gave a sign, and the rhythmic calls from the crowd started again, louder than ever before it howled in Alyseas ears, the Orcs who hold her legs started to pull, and slowly, the icy stone divided her lips, hard and merciless, opening it as far as possible burning the inside with its icy cold; and further, deeper inside of her, until flesh, tendons and muscles torn with a sound that over tuned the now nearly orgiastic shouting of the crowd. She howled and screamed while this stone penis intruded her deeper and deeper, froze her insides, her nerves that send shockwaves of pain through the martyred body. She felt the cold stone on her buttocks and inside her belly; blood nearly hot compared to the icy-cold inside of her, run in small streams along the curves of her spasming legs and dropped to the marble below.
She didn’t realize that the Orcs meanwhile moved away, her legs were free, kicked wildly the air and the statue behind her, the soles pressing against the smooth stone behind, trying to find a hold with the sweat-wet soles. Caught in her own agony Alysea didn’t realize anymore her surrounding, didn’t notice how she sharp ceremonial knife the priest hold in his right hand when he advanced again.
posted August 25th, 2003
A new sudden pain made her scream still louder, as the sharp tip of knife hit her chest and pierced the skin to the bone. Her body revolved, tried to get away, but like magically attached to her ski the knife continues to draw a straight line downwards along the inner side of her left breast; it made a rest at the height of her last rip, piercing deeper here again, and it seemed to glow, to absorb most of the blood from the cuts deep in her skin and flesh.
Now she heard the undead priest’s voice, murmuring prayers in a strange language, words that made her tremble even without understanding it, while he continued to draw bloody lines across her chest, her belly and breasts, accurate and exact, following each of her twisting moves, until the two pentagrams were completed.
Nearly crazy from pain and terror her eyes followed the knife that now drew strange runes into the pentagrams, runes that seem to burn the skin from inside. Fire run trough her veins, her nerves, met with ice from the penis so deep inside her. Fire and ice were fighting its own furious battle inside her tortured body, and slowly the fire seems to win. Not longer the stone felt cold; no, now it gets warm, and warmer, so hot that she thought to burn, fine vapor was pressed between the stone and the torn remains of her vagina.
Filled with terror and agony, Alysea didn’t notice how life begun to fill the statue, its eyes started to glow, its mouth opened and a head of a snake left it like seeking. The arms moved, enormous muscles tensioned and relaxed like awaking from a long sleep, the hands opened and formed to fists and claws. Finally a deep howling sound came together with a cloud of sulfur and rotten meat from the open mouth of the demon.
His giant hands get Alysea’s legs, pulled them back, while his hip arch backwards. Now she realized what had happened in her back, the demon that came alive and started to fuck her brutally, each pushes tearing her more and more. The demon ejaculated pure fire, acid, poison, that filled her inside completely from vagina to the throat, dropped out of her mouth, burning sperms dropping down on her skin, and in a short moment of clearness, she wondered how she still could alive, feeling a foul, rotten liquid running through her veins, replacing the spread and vaporized blood…