A long travel from New Zealand to Germany for Countess Lulu on the traces of her ancestors. An old village with an museum that showed the cruelness of medieval inquisition, and wasn’t one of her ancestors an inquisitor himself? Strange old-fashioned people here and all this walking is tiring, Countess Lulu went to bed after the supper, nothing else to do in this boring village, but then…
…drop…drop… it’s the sound of water drops and the feeling of their coldness, when they drop on your face and elsewhere on your skin makes you finally awake. You try to weep the wetness away, but somehow your arms are ‘heavier’ than usually and cannot reach your nose, where the latest drop hit you. Still not fully conscious… your head feels like after being drunken, your stomach as well. And when you open your eyes, you see: nothing. Only darkness surrounds you. When you try to move a metal sound of chains on chains and chains on stone adds to the irregular falling of the drops.
You are sitting, cold stones on you’re back and beneath your legs…. both a bit wet, you can feel it through on your naked skin tell. Weights on your wrists and ankles: heavy iron shackles, rough iron old and cold; fixed somewhere at floor and walls restricting your movements. Your legs cannot reach your buttocks, they are stopped from the chains some inches before. At least not both.. if you pull your left to your body, your right is pulled in the opposite direction away from you until it lies fully stretched on the stone floor. The hands are above your head, not stretched, but they seem to be connected by a longer chain that leads to a ring some distance above your head. You can reach your hair with one hand, if the other arm is fully stretched upwards.
Another weight on your shoulders, also a shackle that encloses your neck, not very narrow, it lies on your shoulders, the pressure on the collar-bones there hurts a bit, and the skin there feels wound from the rough metal. If you’re heads leaning on the wall, you can feel there the chain from the neck-shackle leading upwards, also you can touch it with your hands. Your throat is rough and dry… and still no light and no other sound…
The shock of finding herself shackled somewhere in the dark makes Lulu awake quickly. She tries to move, her buttocks ache from the sitting on the hard stone floor, her arms and shoulders protest against the uncommon position, her hands cold and numb… yes, cold, she now feels how cold it is, her naked skin wet from the water drops that hit her infrequently but often is covered with a goose-skin, and her lips are trembling.
‘Who could dare to do this to her?’ Lulu felt anger raise, tests the shackles, the chains, blind in the darkness that surrounds her and gives her the feeling to be lost in a dark grave.
“Where are you? leave me out of here at once!”
Furiously she starts to pull the chains, their metal sounds seem to be very loud after the previous silence, but of course they easily resist her pulling and struggling, leaving her soon still more weal and exhausted, only the cold was forgotten for a short time she falls back to the ground, searches for a not too uncomfortable sitting position and breathes hardly.
Her fantasy filled the silence with alarming sounds. Ware this steps? A loud screaming from far away? A kind of tripping of tiny feet on stone? Maybe rats? In beginning panic her eyes try to find a focus in the darkness, are there little red eyes? Something touching her skin? A wet fur? Or an insect or an spider crawling along her leg, her belly?
How long is she here now? She tries to calm down, forget her dark fantasies, but a strange warmth starts to fill her, when she remembers all the things she had seen in the museum – yesterday? or was it more days ago? She feels her nipples nearly painful erected by the cold and her thought, and groaning she tries to stand, leaning on the wall, using each limits of the chains to reach her nipple with the hand and caressing her breast slowly, feeling a strange excitement that makes her faces glow.
But not for long, then her legs start to tremble, she cannot hold this position anymore, too weak, hungry and thirsty she falls back to the ground. Her head sinks down and she falls in a numb state, not a sleep, not really fainted but near to this, the pain that she feels in each limb, in her empty stomach and the cold prevent her from fleeing in a world of dreams. To weak to do anything else she hangs in her chains, lowly crying and waiting for the things to come.
Hours? Or even days? Lulu has completely lost any sense for the passed time, that she spent in the dark. The water drops running down the walls and dripping from the ceiling helped a little bit against the thirst, but her stomach is empty; weak and trembling of the cold, she is somewhere between being awake and sleeping. Not a deep sleep, her position is too uncomfortable, the stones are hard, and the rough shackles had rubbed the skin of her ankles and wrists.
Suddenly the door opens, the light seems to be like bright sunshine after the long time in the darkness. Through the tears of her set eyes she only recognizes a silhouette in long ark robes advancing.
A thousand thoughts in her confused mind. ‘I hear it! Who might it be?! My rescuers? Has this mistake in my imprisonment been understood? Am I to be set free at last or is this my chance to escape! Only one figure…Good! I am a fierce young girl with a very dark soul! I have some experience in martial arts too and am not afraid to hurt anyone who resists me. I will overpower them! I will have my own cruel revenge before I flee!’
Her muscles tighten instinctively with the last thoughts to fight, to resist. She tries to raise, but a heavy kick hits her stomach, throws her back to the floor and the wall, drives away the breath out of her lungs so fast, that she even does not have the chance to scream.
Lulu is fully surprised, feels anger raise inside her, wants to make him pay, but more than before she feels her complete helplessness, still enhanced by her nudeness, that she suddenly becomes aware of.
Before she cannot do anything, her neck-shackle is replaced by another one, part of a restraint – a kind of metal fiddle, as she remembers from her museum visit. She is pulled upwards, the metal presses her throat, she is choking, gasping for air.
She tries to struggle, to resist, but is much too weak, and some moments later her wrist are securely bound in this fiddle. Her shoulders are touching her breast, calling back her nudeness in her mind and she wants to cover her breasts, her sex, twist away from his eyes.
Still he hasn’t spoken any word, but when her struggling is stopped by two hard blows in her face. Her head flies from side to side, and backwards to the wall. Some blood runs from burst lips, her cheek feels numb and swollen, she want to shout and scream, as his fist hits her stomach and make her cough; her stomach too empty to vomit, but bitter liquid fills her mouth and runs over her lips and chin.
Lulu is dazed and shocked, her mind drifting. She wants to cry and fight to keep control, but her body is betraying her. No strength and shaking in fear now.
‘Why doesn’t he speak? Please let him speak, God; then I can explain that this is all wrong…’
A pulling with chain makes her stumble forward, only small steps allowed by the foot chains, her torso forced bent forward she tries to follow his steps when she is led outside of the cell in a small corridor enlightened by some old fashioned torches.
Her ankles hurt like hell, but when she slows down the only reaction is a harder pull with the chain, her neck and chin is already wounded by the rough iron rubbing along her skin there, and somehow she knows, that she would been dragged on the floor, if she falls down.
‘Twisting my wrists to try and get them comfortable…can’t! So sore…and it just pulls on the collar around my neck…fight the fear Lulu!… You will be okay…faster steps…faster…don’t fall down…You can’t protect yourself if you do…a trickle of blood reaches my lips and I lick it away…fear…’
Many thanks to Countess Lulu for being the perfect witch :-)…
Confused, filled with fear and pain, her cheeks swollen and a metallic taste still in her mouth, remembering her this pear that filled her mouth and stopped her protests, her tries to explain, her begs and her curses. She still cannot believe what just happened, but the pain from her backwards-arched torso and from the trembling muscles of her widely spread legs, the rough metal on her neck and wrists… this is so real, more real than in each horny dream she had before.
This big hall with so many people in the dark behind her, who stared to her nude body; furious speeches and accuses in this strange language, where she only understood some few words…’Hexe’ what means ‘witch’ as she know too well… each time she tried to say something, she was silenced, first by brutal blows in her face, and as this didn’t stop her words, this pear was inserted in her mouth; she still feels not only the metallic taste, but also the wounds this device has left on her palate, when the pear was opened until she thought her jaw bones would break. A scene like in those medieval pictures of witch-trials she had seen in the museum.
And now she stands on her tiptoes in this small room, empty besides a small fireplace and some chairs surrounding her; her torso arched backwards, the fiddle rubbing under her chin, fixed to the chain from the ceiling; rough ropes at her ankles fix her legs in position.
The door opens behind her, steps of several people. Lulu tries to catch a look at them, but her head is forced to look to the ceiling. She only can catch some shadows.
“Who’s there?! Let me loose you bastards. Please! My back is breaking…please…”
No answer, only the sounds are telling her, that the people sit down to the chairs. She twists her body until she has the feeling her bones would break, and recognizes four men and a fat ugly woman, looking at her with a mixture of jealousy and satisfaction.
“The witnesses, anything should happen as the law says…” the inquisitor surrounds her, while the other sit down on their chairs, touching her trembling body with greedy eyes.
Lulu shudders by his cold voice, feels panic raise when she remembers his merciless gaze during the trial. But at least this one speaks her language good enough to talk to her.
“I have money…I could give you money…Please? Let me go…”
“Be silent, witch; only a Judas accepts devil’s coins!”
He stops his walk in her back and she feels his fingers on the bare skin of her shoulders, sweeping her hair aside. Two fingers are examining her neck inch by inch, then move slowly along her skin from shoulder to shoulder.
She feels so vulnerable…so ashamed…her legs spread open and no way to close them… her breasts bare, her nipples hard in the cold room…
The fingers stop suddenly while they are on a point at her left shoulder…a fingernail presses something, scratches, testing if it is dirt what he has found there.
She jerks in her shackles in shock and at the slight pain…”Hey! Careful! What are you doing?”
“A mark! But is it the mark of the devil, that each witch has on her body?” He goes to the fireplace, takes needle from the shelf, longer than a finger, with a thin and sharp tip…
“You certainly are knowing this: a devil’s mark will not bleed when the needle pierces it.” He is moving in her back again, and passing her, her eyes are attracted by this needle in his hand.
Needle? Pierces?! With the understanding, the panic grows…”Hey! Stop! Don’t do this. Please No! Don’t do this! ”
Thumb and index finger above and under the mole… the sharp tip touches the skin… the watchers hold their breath.
Lulu feels like paralyzed from fear. ‘God help me, but they really think I’m a witch! They’re going to prick my mole!’ Time is frozen…’Will it hurt? I don’t know…Will they stop? Please God, make them stop…’
The skin moves under the pressure… a bit more force, and the tip pierces it… one millimeter… no blood yet. She jerks in her chains and bites her lip…
The needle follows her move without loosing contact… deeper now…the skin is passed, now the tip is in the flesh, and she feels how the needle is twisted. She is straining against her chains and ropes, using the pain at her ankles and wrists to block out the needle… A snarl is in her throat as she tries to keep down her tears.
“Rrrrrr!!!!!” Her teeth are gritted, her eyes squeezed shut tightly…
A drop of blood slowly pearls out along the needle’s steel… pushed deeper and hit something hard: the bones below the pierced skin and flesh, and a small ripple of blood leaves the pierced mole, runs in a single line downwards.
First nothing… then her eyes flies open and she gasps…”Uuuuuh!!!” body rigid in shock. Then the pain hits in a sickening wave and she screams: “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”
Slowly the needle is pulled back… her skin now covered with sweat, trembling like freezing… “This was not the devil’s mark, I have to search further to find it…”
Lulu feels all her strength gone; she falls slack in her bonds, sobbing and groaning lowly. “Oh God, not more… Please no more! What do you want! I’ll give it to you.”
Again the fingers glides searching along the skin of her back and now she knows what they are looking for. She feels panic growing up. The only noises besides her low moaning are her own heartbeat beating like drums in her ears, the heavy breathes of the witnesses and the pen of the writer scratching on the paper.
“Sex? You want sex? Tell these people to leave and you can fuck me, fuck me hard! You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Come on…please…Take me! I know you want to… fuck me and drop the needle…” She started lowly, but ends in a loud desperate scream:
“I’m young! I’m only 18! I’ve hardly been with anyone and I’m tight! REALLY tight! You’ll like raping me! Stop! Please stop…”
And indeed he fingers stop their movement rather abruptly, a finger presses hard against her trembling spine. “SEX? With a witch used by the devil every night? How can you dare to talk like this? You’ll face God’s law! THE WHIP!” The voice shouts out loudly, trembling in anger.
“Fuck me, come on; fuck me! They can even stay and watch if it turns you on… Is that it? You want them to watch? Okay then…”
*CLASH CLASH CLASH*
Lulus desperate offers end in a shocked howling scream when the knotted lash furiously hit her bare back several times, leaving finger wide red stripes on the soft skin.
She shudders in her bonds. “I’ll be good to you; I swear, I’ll be really, really good, you will never forget…”
*CLASH CLASH CLASH*
Again and again the whip hit her back, beating furiously and in a fast sequence. The leather not only hits her back and sets it on fire, but also the sides of her swinging breasts where the skin turns red and swollen at once.
Now she is only screaming and crying like a wounded animal… maybe begging but she doesn’t even know… just the pain of the lash on her sweat-soaked back… sometimes her feet losing grip, choking her in the fiddle…
*CLASH CLASH CLASH CLASH*
New stripes crossing older ones where the already damaged skin bursts at some spots… Swollen welts cover her back, and ripples of blood run down with the sweat that flows down in streams now.
“Don’t dare to ask this again, or I will burn out your mouth with Holy Fire, that the devil cannot use your tongue anymore!” Hardly breathing, he stops the whipping finally and looks at her with disgust.
“Yes I promise, I promise, I promise… No more please… PLEASE no more… I’ll do anything… Any!” She whimpers, heavily sobbing and gasping for air. She tries to get back the control of her body that trembles like set under current.
“You are here because your soul can still be saved, but more important is to fight the devil wherever he dares to show his ugly face!” Calmer now, he threatening shows the girl the blood covered whip with a strange light in his cold, dement eyes.
“I understand,” Lulu stutters nearly crazy from the pain on her back… “Fight the Devil… I understand… You’ll fight the devil and save my soul… Yes, I understand…”
His hands touch her glowing back red like sun burnt, now crisscrossed with dark red and some even bluish swollen lines. Sweat mixes with blood running down in streams along her spine, vanishing in the cleavage of her trembling buttocks that were also hit several times.
“Good… you better should never forget what I said!”
“Yes… yes… never… but please no more… you don’t need to hurt me anymore. I’ll be good… Get rid of the Devil, then let me go… Okay?”
The inquisitor murmurs something she couldn’t understand, but her eyes widens in terror when she sees that he takes that long needle again, the tip spoiled with now dried blood… her own blood! “NOOOOOOOOOOO, NOT AGAIN!!!” Her body cramped, she holds her breath trying to guess where on her skin he’ll find another place for the pricking…
The fingers are at her tender waist again, she feels them more intensely now, especially when they touch one of the numerous welts.
Lulu flinches but remains silent…only her quite sobs fill the room…
Her back is stinging now from the salt of her own sweat in the cuts from the lash… her broken skin is on fire…
The searching fingers reach her buttocks… open the cleavage widely. Silently but harder breathing, the inquisitor carefully examines the inner, hidden sides… often a favorite place for a devils mark, as he knows very well.
A sweet smell fills the room, not very intense. Obviously at least one of the watchers just have had an orgasm and now tries to hide a wet spot in his trousers.
Through it all, the pain, the fear, Lulu smells it too… and she knows for the first time that they are getting off on her torment; liking it; wanting it to go on…
She groans at the indignity but says nothing… ‘I must avoid the lash…’ This thought fills her mind.
With a low groan of disappointment, the inquisitor leaves her buttocks. Nothing there… but wait. His fingers stop moving. Isn’t there small scar on the left hip… nearly hidden below a whip mark? The tip of the needlepoint touches the scar.
‘What’s he doing?’ Lulu twists her eye to have a look in raising panic.
“NOOOO! I said I’d be good! No needles NOOO! Please…”
But nobody cares her screams; slowly he pierces into the soft flesh… blood comes early, runs along the metal of the needle and starts to drop down
“No no no no no… Not the needle again… What do you want? Just tell me now.” The pain is rising rapidly…
Again no reaction, only the needle is moving, deeper… one inch now inside… it twists in the flesh, the tip moving up and down…
Lulu is screaming now and threshing wildly, hips bucking and back arching… the shackles chaffing her wrists and neck… the ropes rubbing her ankles raw… But she feels nothing but the needle deep inside her flesh…
“No, this was not the mark… to much blood here!” The Inquisitor pulls the needle slowly back, and cleans the bloody tip with a cloth.
Relief… exhaustion… Lulu slacks in her bonds… throat dry and raw… breath coming in gasps… ‘How am I still conscious? …will he stop now? …please let me pass out if he starts again…I can’t take it…’
But the search continues… the left tender leg, now trembling and wet. Muscles and tendons tighten under his fingers and hands as he searches from hip to the thin ankles.
She shudders at his touch but doesn’t resist… She knows she can’t resist…
The sole… nothing… and the same with the right leg upwards now… ‘Her skin is nearly TOO clean’, he thinks. ‘It is not normal, that a body has only such a few moles and marks.” He tells the writer his thoughts and orders to write this down to the protocol.
The back is done… now to the front. The inquisitor looks in her face… severe… but now she can see his face the first time so clearly… There is a grin behind the severity… a diabolic grin, not visible for others, but clearly visible for her now.
‘BASTARD!!! He’s enjoying this…mauling me like a piece of meat on a hook… it’s all so brutal; the fiddle, the lash, the smell of sweat and blood and semen thick in the air… BASTARDS!!!’ She wants to shout it in his face, but remembers the lash just it time and bites her tongue with force.
His eyes fix a point near her mouth, licks his lips and the needle enters her field of view… “A spot from a devil’s kiss?” Sometimes it is difficult not to laugh, and from this near distance Lulu sees to well, like he suppresses a loud laughter.
Her anger is rising again. Try to hold it down, Lulu… he still has the lash!’
But she will not let him get satisfaction this time! She will not break down!
Cold steel touches her skin again… this time the mole at her chin… VERY soft flesh, very flexible skin… needs some pressure, and the skin ‘retreats’ until stopped by the bones below.
Her teeth clenched, the cheeks trembling.
He presses with more force, just a bit…. of course blood at once, at this point are a lot of veins immediately below the skin… but he doesn’t stop and pierces deeper and deeper.
‘Jesus – the pain!’ Lulu is staring at a cobweb on the ceiling… focuses on the cobweb, while needle reaches the bone of chin, a line of light red blood runs along the tender neck… collects at the clavicle, then runs down deeper to her chest and breast… “So quiet? Feeling no pain is just another prove for the devils mark!”… The writer writes this thought of his master to the protocol, while he inquisitor scratches the tip a bit along the chin bone
She is grunting at the pain but holding it in. She’s feeling stronger now… but the pain is bad, she wants to vomit but she’s empty… Her teeth are feeling as if they’ll break; she is clenching so hard… loosing her strength now… used too much…
“Nothing here, too.” He pulls back the needle, and caresses the bleeding spot with a finger; wipe some blood on her dry, trembling lips.
She groans… ‘I did it… but I want to die and escape this monster… his touch on my lips so sensual and filled with lust…’
He smells her lust… grins a last time in her eyes, before getting serious and look to the witnesses… ‘Hmm, they wouldn’t even recognize, if I would laugh out loud… all male with bulges under their trousers, the looks rather concentrated on her open pussy, wet…’
Again he grins in her face, his fingers touching her pussy lips, and in his eyes she can see that he knows very well, that this liquid it is not only sweat…
Her face turns red; ‘No… as ashamed as I am; no… not just sweat…’
The arms are done quicker, also the fingers and the hands… then her chest and the breasts…
His fingers glide over the soft flesh of the breasts, the nipples; erected… it isn’t so cold here inside, isn’t it? no mark here… bad luck.
The rough touch is becoming powerfully sensual to her… Is it the control? ‘Am I going insane from the pain?’ Lulu shudders, he must be finished looking…
“But didn’t I say that the devil is malicious?” She heard his rough voice like from far away. “ESPECIALLY at the breast he often uses invisible marks!” The needle touches her skin below the nipple.
She nearly cried out with terror. ‘Again… he’s going to do it again… And this will be too much:’ She knows it now before the first cruel prick…
The tip deforms the skin until it penetrates… but then just a bit too fast and easy…
She gasps for air, loudly, her eyes wide opened.
No blood yet… The torturer knows that the shock sometimes prevents bleeding, but he has to be sure and the needle moves deeper into the soft flesh.
Lulus eyes wide and staring, staring upwards… mouth wide open in a silent “O”, fists clenched…
Her strength is failing… even to cry out in her pain and suffering…
Deeper and deeper… he can now move her breast up and down with the needle…
Suddenly her body looses all the strength, without any tension she just falls back in her bounds, her body twisting slowly and her sweat shimmering chest moves with the fast irregular breathes.
This last movement was too much… now some blood appears and she fainted…
“The devil helps his witch to resist the pain… wake her up again!”
SPLASH… a bucket of ice-cold water in your her face.
“Argh!!!” Shock. Confusion. What… where… And then she’s remembering and she groans, while he continues to examine her body inch by inch… the waist done quickly… but what’s this here below her thin pubic hair, a strange symbol? Witch work? A fetish? Something that protects her?
His finger stops, and with a sudden terror, Lulu remembers her tattoo… nothing but a small tattoo she got their some time ago. She regretted this several times, but it was usually well hidden. But now! Her eyes widens in terror when she understood what this tattoo would make these sick bastards think. And there was no chance to hide it now.
Filled with terror she heard his words: “Shave the witch, there is something hidden in there!”