Dawn [ED]


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by Ed. All rights reserved.

Year 1557. England

It was a dangerous time to be a protestant in England. Mary I, Mary Tudor, daughter of Henry VIII, known as Bloody Mary, ruled the land with the Catholic Phillip II of Spain. Any slight deviation from the Catholic Catechism was sufficient to interrogate and execute the so-called “heretics”. Under Mary’s rule, lovely young Dawn Smith, a bonded servant, had been accused of avoiding confession and communion by anonymous voices. A beautiful young woman with no one to speak up for her, the local magistrate had wasted no time in issuing the order of arrest on the charge of heresy.

Corto Hayward, the magistrate, had her seized, charged, and immediately embarked on a determined assault to break the girl’s innocent resolve. Down in the basement of the city keep, the pretty straw-haired wench was rudely stripped naked by the secular minions. The brutal, foul-smelling men tossed her between them, laughing at the way her cute bare breasts jiggled and fondling her buttocks and sex lewdly. They knew that they would have her for rape play once the magistrate had broken her by cruel torture—and taken her first, of course.

Her first night in the dungeon was spent in a hellish depilatory: an apprentice executioner was tasked with plucking the hairs from her underarms and genitals. A standard exercise to teach the young male apprentices patience, he used a small pair of tweezers to grasp and pluck Dawn’s fine blond underarm and pubic hairs one by one. Dawn was laid out on her back on an angled punishment frame, her slim white legs tied widely apart. The position was designed to expose a female’s torso and sex totally to the techniques of the inquisition. The gradual and relentless plucking the wispy hairs under her arms hurt like the devil as they were removed, but that pain was as nothing compared to the inevitable final attention paid to her slit. Dawn Smith did not yet have the pubic pelt of a fully mature woman, yet it still took five and a half grueling hours before the apprentice had plucked her labial lips clean to the base of her moons. As each pubic hair was individually grabbed by the pliers and slowly tugged up and away from the sensitive genital flesh, the pretty blond writhed on the torture bench, squealing loudly when the hair ripped free. They could have used larger pliers, of course, and ripped the hair out in batches, but that often tore the skin open and caused profuse bleeding. The hair-by-hair method employed not only preserved the skin, but also prolonged the gnawing pain of having her genitals so slowly and deliberately bared. The 17-year old apprentice was forbidden to fuck the beautiful naked girl, but shortly into the plucking his youth and budding sadistic urges found his pants undone and hanging around his ankles to expose his hard penis to the pleasures of the lurid chamber. He came twice, the hot cream of sex jetting from his rigid shaft, before the hair ripping was over. The second time, just after he had finished the blonde’s pubic plucking, he stood up and made use of Dawn’s swelling raw labia, rubbing the taut underside of his throbbing erection up and back against the pretty blonde’s hot yawning lips until he crossed the thin line of control. The apprentice groaned with pleasure, his hands gripping her tits while the hot, demanding spasms between his legs shot their load out over the remnants of her pubic mound and up to her cute dimpled navel. His jerking motions soon subsided and he quickly cleaned Dawn’s lower torso with rags dipped in hot water.

No sooner had he finished, than Corto returned to resume the primary interrogation. The first thing he ordered was the rubbing of Dawn’s denuded pudenda with a fiery hot pepper oil imported from the West Indies, causing immediate and anguished cries of pain. Both minions covered their hands with goat-skin gloves, to prevent the burning oil from blistering their fingers as they dipped their fingers into the red slurry and rubbed it deeply into the blonde’s tender notch. The prolonged and relentless plucking of her labia left the delicate lips swollen and raw. The pepper oil penetrated into every gaping raw follicle, irritating the countless genital nerves with a fierce, relentless chemical burning. Dawn’s lovely young body squirmed wildly on the angled bench under the hellish chemical torment of her labial lips. Sweat, bursting from her body from fear and pain, lubricated her back as it slid over the hardwood table. Her groans and squeals were pitiable, but only served to enhance her male torturers’ pleasure.

Then Dawn’s nude body was untied from the bench for her next torment. The minions carried her naked body to the Iron Horse, a sharp-ridged metal wedge. The naked girl shrieked and struggled madly as they lifted her blazing slit up over the sharp steel back of the Horse and then roughly dropped her down on it. Dawn squealed when the cold iron first cut up between her legs. The men quickly attached 10-kilo weights to each ankle, pulling inexorably down on her limbs and making it feel as if she were being split right up the middle. The blond groaned in abject misery. But even all that was just the beginning of her ordeal. Corto ordered that thin leather laces be tied around her thumbs and passed through a ring overhead. Now Dawn was unable to lean forward or back; held upright, her entire nude torso was available to the cruel inquisitors. The pleading girl was horribly aware of the way they were all staring at her nude young torso. Then her torture began in earnest. They started on her lovely young body with the pincers; long, two-handed jaws that could not only pinch the captured flesh painfully, but also crush and rip the tender morsels away.

“Confess, you heretic bitch, confess and save your soul!” The two-handed tongs darted in to grip small portions of flesh along her sensitive concave sides. The minions had to push hard against the tight skin to grip enough to pinch. Then the cold jaws gripped and closed on her sides.

“HEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH! OH, IT HURTS, IT HURTS! AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHH!” The pincers grabbed tiny morsels of skin and slowly pinched the flesh between them until the skin cracked and droplets of blood oozed down over her hips. Dawn squirmed desperately on the cunt-splitting ridge at the intense pain, but could do nothing to ease the bitter biting agony afflicting her sides.

“But I’ve done nothing, nothing wrong! I’m just a poor tavern maid. Please, I’ve done nothing.”

“LIAR! Pinch her again, both of you!” The dark tongs darted in, one gripping a bit of flesh along one tender side while the other pinched an equally tender morsel where her thigh met the rounded ass cheek. Both of the jaws crushed and worried at the delicate meat until the skin tore and blood started seeping down her body.

“AAAAARRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH! Oh, it hurts, it hurts! AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Oh, gods, my poor cunny is burning! Please, I’ve done nothing wrong!”

“LIAR! Again! Pinch her nipples this time! I’ll teach the bitch not to lie!” The minions moved to the girl’s front and reached in with their pincers to capture both of Dawn’s tender nude nipples. Slowly they squeezed and twisted.

“AAAAAAAIIIIIIIEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Oh my tits, my poor tits! Stopitstopitstopit! Ah, the pain, the pain. PLEASE, I’m innocent.”

“LIAR! Pinch her tits again!” “AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHH! AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” The two torturers were highly skilled and the pincers came forward with fiendish accuracy to find the young girl’s pointed nipples with their metal jaws. The tongs pressed together about those two nubbins of female flesh, squeezing and squeezing until the pretty blond screamed in sexual agony. The minions kept pinching and twisting the pink buds to the edge of ripping the flesh. Dawn screamed again at the harsh burning pain ripping through her tittie tips.

“Confess, heretic! Save your damnable soul!”

“But I’m not, I’m not! Please, oh please, I’m innocent.”

“LIAR! Pinch her some more! Make the bitch bleed! Only through pain will she be purified!” “AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRAAAAAAHHHH! I KNOW NOTHING!”

“LIAR! Pinch her fat tits again! I want to hear the bitch scream.”


“LIAR! . . .”


* * * * *

Dawn Smith held out for fifteen hours. Fifteen hours of endless torment; the entire period spent perched on the fiendish Iron Horse. At three hours and eight into the interrogation, the minions added additional 10-kilo weights to the miserable girl’s ankles. It felt as if she was sitting on a white-hot sword slowly splitting her up the middle of her tender sex. The steel ridge pressed inexorably up between her sex, splitting, always splitting her tender loins. Each additional weight only served to add to the pain between her thighs. Dawn had passed the point where she could simply pass out from the pain. Corto was a skilled interrogator; he knew how to break these heretics down. The pincers gave way to supple, inch-wide leather straps. Hayward ordered her gagged and then flogged with the belts for two straight hours.

The two brutal men swept their straps viciously across Dawn’s nude torso in an endless tattoo of loud moist smacks. From neck to knees, front and back, every millimeter of her soft female skin took repeated strokes from the slapping leather. The strikes on her pert round buttocks and lower back hurt atrociously and made her grind her plucked and oil-irritated slit on the cruel metal ridge, but it was the bitter stinging lashes over her jutting naked tits that caused her the greatest agony. In the full flush of her sexual maturity, Dawn’s large bare breasts had steadily increased in sensitivity along with their increasing size. Not content with flogging the proud white globes, their belts caressed the plier-pinched and erect nipples often, punishing the pink tips and causing excruciating pain. Denied even the minor release of screaming, the young beauty could only squirm on the sharp ridge and endure the fiendish naked strapping in silence. The magistrate poured himself a mug of ale and watched the flogging with interest. More than once he had to reach inside his breeches to rearrange the delicious swelling there. One of the minions moved from side to side behind her to apply the tip of his belt up her inner thighs and crossing the moons and top of her aching genitals. It already felt as though her tender gash was being split up its center by a white-hot sword. The skin had started cracking at top and bottom, marking those areas of the Horse with growing patches of scarlet, and exposing raw wet nerve endings to the savage chili oil. For the final fifteen minutes, they concentrated their strokes across her heaving, welted tits. The sweat-shiny bare breasts quickly empurpled under the relentless strapping. Dawn was near swooning when they finally stopped the hellish tit torture. “Remove her gag.

“Confess, heretic, and save your miserable protestant soul! Confess and beg forgiveness.”

“I-I’m innocent,” she whimpered miserably. “P-Please don’t hurt me any more. Please, I beg you. No more, no m-more. Please, oh please stop hurting my poor titties and take me off this infernal thing. Ooowww, it hurts, it hurts me so . . .”

“Whore! Filthy whore! You think you hurt already, do you, bitch! No, soon you will feel real pain, but you will need all your strength. Soon you will really suffer for your heresy!”

Hayward gave the wench twenty minutes to rest. He personally poured a large shot of brandy down her throat to aid in her recovery before having her gagged. Once he had determined that she was strong and aware enough, he immediately returned to the torture of her breasts, stabbing the swollen red globes with a dozen fine steel needles each. Every penetration was rewarded with a chuff of pain from her nostrils. After the prolonged strapping, both of the nude mounds were appallingly swollen and sensitive. Then Corto held up a long heavy rod from the brazier. An inch thick, the thing glowed with fierce unholy heat. Dawn tried to recoil from the hideous implement. She had already suffered horribly, but as yet, her soft flesh had not been subjected to the intolerable kiss of fire. Corto saw the look in her eyes and smiled. How well he understood these feeble wretches. He bent down and slid the radiant rod into a hole in the front of the Horse. Inside of five minutes, Dawn began to feel the hellish splitting ridge between her thighs warming. But Corto Hayward was too experienced to attack on only one flank. He could read the signs; Dawn Smith was close to breaking. All it would take was one more level of agony. Now with Dawn’s gag removed, the townspeople would hear the screams from the inquisitor’s questioning and Corto was never one to disappoint. And the purpose of the gagging had been fulfilled—Dawn knew that they wanted her to confess heresy, but for hours of agonizing torture, they had kept her gagged and voiceless. Even had she broken and desired to confess, she couldn’t.

“Fit her with the ‘Spanish stirrups’,” the magistrate ordered. The miserable girl mewled in horror.

The two burly men took up the loosely connected iron plates that made up the ‘stirrups’ that comprised this version of the ‘Spanish Boot’ and placed them almost gently on the young blonde’s captive feet. It took only minutes for the hideous devices to enclose her tiny feet.

Large, ornate wing-screws projected from the sides of the relatively broad forefeet. Two more stuck out from her heel-bones and a third stood out from the tops of her feet just behind the toes.

“Squeeze them—you know how to maximize her suffering. Enough so she screams and bleeds, but not enough that she is permanently crippled. She must walk to the pillory and stake, after all.”

The two loin cloth-clad men both knelt down and started turning the forefoot pair of wings. Each twist moved the inner plates almost a quarter-inch closer, every turn pressing the small tender bones against each other. After five full turns, hairline splits and compressions started in both feet. The agony was incredible and the pretty young blond could only shriek and writhe on the Horse while her fore feet were crushed together.

The magistrate knew that the girl couldn’t last much longer. While the minions worked on her feet, he went for a fresh assault. Corto lit a candle and lifted it close to Dawn’s left breast. Without a moment’s hesitation, he moved it in until the flame found the end of a needle protruding from the underside of the aureole. “Confess to your heresy. Spare yourself more pain. Think on it, bitch. Nothing but savage sexual agony until you confess and tell me the names of the other heretics here. Or do you prefer the pain, eh?” It took only a few seconds before the end of the tit skewer glowed bright red and the flesh beneath started to hiss and sizzle. Before it had cooled, the magistrate moved the yellow flame under a needle sticking from the right breast’s bottom curve. Even after two hours of having her tender tits and nipples whipped, the pain did not compare with this new horror. Burning, fiery heat that relentlessly seared female breast nerves so lately strapped beyond endurance. Down between her legs, the iron ridge splitting her genitals had heated up to the level where the hot metal was raising countless small hard blisters on the delicate skin of her labia. The remorseless pain between her thighs gave way every few minutes to the sudden sharp searing pain of a breast needle heated red-hot searing her proud nude breasts. There was no end to the hellish pain. Corto sought out one needle after another, heating the round buds until the steel lancets glowed red and the girl’s breast flesh hissed with burning pain.

Dawn’s resolve finally cracked under the excruciating and relentless sexual torture. Thin runnels of blood dripped from the fronts of the stirrups. She finally broke when the seventh tit-piercing lance was heated to torture her naked left nipple and her outraged genitals started to sear as the iron ridge cutting up between her labia grew red-hot, but the cruel grinning man waited until all 24 of the needles in her helpless bare breasts and nipples had been heated incandescent and fried the tender flesh they pierced. Her cunt lips were already blistering when Corto finally removed the gag, the needles in her teats still sizzling. The desperate girl confessed to heresy and witchcraft and everything else she could possibly think of to just stop the ghastly and intolerable torment afflicting her naked body. The minions removed the hot rod from the Horse and dribbled more of the fiery brandy down her throat and she thought that her hellish ordeal was finally over. But even then, she had failed to comprehend the depths of Corto’s cruelty.

Once her breathing had slowed somewhat, the magistrate approached her. “Sometimes a confessed heretic recants after she has had time to heal and think. You will not be so tempted. Go to the public post and you can die quickly in the flames—a painful end, but a quick one. Recant, and you will be returned down here to me. Recant, and suffer this—and worse.

“Finish with the stirrups, but use the water, not the oil. I want her able to walk to her execution.”

The two hulking minions understood exactly what the magistrate meant. Fine droplets of blood still dripped from Dawn’s crushed forefeet. Now the two brutal men knelt down again and started twisting the ornate wing nuts at the back of Dawn’s feet.


The guards continued their slow turning pressure on the back nuts. Each turn, like the ones earlier, compressed the bones of Dawn’s ankles and heels a quarter-inch until they began to split under the contracting pieces of iron and more blood began to seep. The elder of the two started alternating turns on the wings centered over the tops of her feet. Every crank drilled the small, sharp spike down into and between the tendons of her upper feet. The tavern maid was screaming steadily as the bones in her feet were crushed together. At this point, three more turns on each would cripple her for life, but the magistrate had forbidden that for now. They let go of the wing nuts, but Dawn continued wailing, so great was the pain in her feet.

Then, just when she thought that there was no greater suffering, the minions started pouring cupfuls of boiling salt water down into specially placed holes around the stirrups. The young girl’s shrieks were painful to hear. Broken and crushed flesh and bone was suddenly bathed with boiling brine, wringing unutterable agony from her small tender feet. Even still, the boiling brine was less destructive than the boiling oil. That left the flesh of her small feet crushed by the cruel stirrups broiled and blistered and useless to walk upon. The blonde’s tits still throbbed and her notch sent waves of pain up from her genitals. Hayward moved to her side with a small pair of tongs. These he employed on one whip-swollen teat after the other, squeezing the sensitive bud painfully and then twisting the buds side to side. It was only then that the awful affliction finally overwhelmed her senses and Dawn sagged inert on the Horse.

“Take her down and lay her on the bench,” he ordered. “Confine her, but see to it that a physician attends her. She must be healthy and strong for her execution next fortnight.”

Her immediate torture had ended, but now the rape began. First Corto bathed her hairless crotch with cups of boiling water to clear away the remnants of the pepper oil from her plump labial lips. Dawn’s regained consciousness in the worst possible way. Her screams rose in volume and pitch when he had the guards undo and raise her legs so the magistrate could pour a couple of cupfulls of the steaming water directly into her gaping vagina. He then used a coarse sponge to scrub the tender flesh between her legs clear of the oil and hot water. The delicate labial flesh turned bright red and bloated up between her thighs. Erect from the hellish genital torment, Corto mounted her, gasping and sweating on the whipping bench, her nude body still throbbing from the prolonged interrogation. He thrilled to the feel of her hot blistered labia sliding up and back along his rigid prick before he finally shot deep inside her.

Over the next two weeks, all the guards entered her cell some time or other to take her in countless, ever more degrading ways. Even the young apprentice executioner who had picked her armpits and genitals clear of hair got his shot, using the same tweezers to tug and twist Dawn’s nipples while he pumped his prick inside her. In this way, the pretty young blond spent the two weeks before her death.

* * * * *

On the appointed day, Dawn Smith had largely recovered. The ugly bruises and burns of torture were pretty much gone; her young body again smooth and white. Her feet still hurt terribly from their crushing, but she could walk, if barely, to her place of execution. They gave her her dress back, although they withheld her old chemise and panties. Dawn was glad to be dressed again after her days of helpless nudity. Just the feel of cloth covering her made her feel somewhat safe again. Then they took her out of the keep and marched her across the square to the raised stone execution platform.

Once up on the punishment stage, the two hooded executioners held the pretty blond girl between them, facing the jeering crowd. Corto opened the note of condemnation. “Dawn Smith, you have been found guilty of Heresy against the One True Church. Sentence is public death by torment. Now strip the wench and begin!”

The townsfolk drew silent in anticipation. The two guards immediately reached their free hands for the top of Dawn’s tattered blue dress. In moments they ripped the soiled remnants away and the young blond stood gloriously nude in the late morning sun.

Only eighteen, yet still Dawn had the form of a fully matured woman. Long slim legs rose up to swelling hips. Then the waist fell inward to taut curved sides and a hard concave belly. These swelled out again to accommodate a short, but deep ribcage that served as a platform for her two splendid bare breasts. Dawn’s narrow back and slim stature made the 35C mounds appear much larger than they were, although even on a much taller woman they would still have been impressive. Still firm with the pride and resilience of youth, the soft white tits thrust out, trembling to her breaths. At their tips sat doubloon-sized disks of delicate rose-pink. A breeze drifted across them, starting the center points to rise up. Every man in the crowd had seen her in town and had wanted her. Now they wanted to see the proud maid humbled. Finally seeing her stunning nudity on the stage aroused them. Every woman in the crowd hated her for the passions she engendered in the men. No one would stop the coming horror.

“Take her, and secure her to the stocks!”

The two soldiers grabbed the naked young girl and dragged her over to the vertical pillory. In a minute, they bent her over and locked her wrists and neck into the three holes. Dawn’s pert round ass cheeks stuck out behind her at the top of her slim white legs. The soldiers then grabbed the blonde’s ankles. Cords were wrapped around them and pulled a full yard apart. Dawn squealed in shame as her genitals were exposed between her legs. Then both men yanked the limbs they held a full foot farther apart and tied them off. Now Dawn’s position was even more acutely uncomfortable. Her long legs were spread hugely, beyond 90 degrees. Her ample round buttocks stuck out towards the crowd and the plump young lips of her genitals were totally exposed beneath the crack. The terrified girl was forced up on tiptoe to keep from choking. Her naked white body performed a lascivious little dance as she tried to escape the stocks and somehow hide her most sensitive and private parts from the torturers. Corto stepped up. His calloused hands wandered all over the girl’s naked flesh. Dawn shivered in shame when his fingers caressed the skin up and down her trembling thighs. For a couple of minutes, he fondled the yawning pink lips making the girl’s face blush bright red and drawing an appreciative murmur from the crowd. Dawn’s face contorted and blushed as the magistrate played with her labial lips, teasing the slit intimately. Then he reached one long finger slyly up between the labia and stabbed it deep into her vagina. Dawn squealed in shame and tried futilly to move her gash off the prying finger.

“She’s no virgin!” he yelled to the jeering audience, knowing full well why she wasn’t. Corto made a big display of teasing the miserable girl’s bared sex, playing with the gaping lips for the delight of the crowd. He could feel his prick filling as he watched her hips writhing lasciviously under his intimate fondling. At the moment, he would have dearly loved fucking the helpless young blond, despite the public exposure, but certain proprieties had to be followed and anyway, he told himself, he had another fresh young wench waiting in the cells. Whatever passions this executions aroused, he would exercise away with her this evening.

Then it was time to begin the torment, but there was one last refinement to inflict. One soldier lifted her small body, straining the ankle bonds while the other carefully inserted a spiked iron rod into a hole at the bottom of the pillory, just below her captured neck. Dawn Smith was released as they went for their weapons. A low groan of agony passed her lips. The only way to keep the metal spikes from piercing her inner breasts and belly was to stick out her buttocks and keep her loins lifted high. The miserable wench had to rise up on her tiptoes to avoid the stabbing pain up her bared front. She jiggled slightly side to side, an action that created a most delicious dance. Corto stepped up again. He pressed his hips up against Dawn’s and pretended to be fucking the captive maid by humping her ass. Dawn could feel the hardness of his sex rubbing against her gaping genitals at the obscene playacting. The townspeople howled in laughter. Corto moved back to her side, his hands busy roaming over her soft naked skin. He fondled her ass and delved down between the cheeks to coarsely tease the fat pink lips bulging between the straining thighs. He slyly slipped a couple of fingers up into the plump genitals and the people who could see her face laughed at the look of shock that she adopted.

“Normally, I would have a vaginal pear shoved in here and opened, splitting you apart, but not today. The pear is awful, but what you face today is even worse and I don’t want your sex spread too much,” he said to the imprisoned maid. “No, I want you to stay just as small and tight as you are. After I have fully enjoyed you, I will give your slit a real fucking.

“Time to begin, men. One hundred lashes. Neck to knees. Your straps will have to work hard to crack that pretty skin, but I want to see her back and bottom bleed if you can. Begin the execution!”

The two stocky soldiers took up their positions to the right and left of Dawn’s beautifully displayed backside. The supple straps went up as one and then the torment began in earnest.

WHACKKT! WHAPPT! WHACKT! WHAPT! WHACKKKT! With no further warning, the two brutal men began flailing Dawn’s back and buttocks with their heavy belts. Again and again and again the whistling leather flew through the air to burst across Dawn’s slim back, round ass, and straining sculptured thighs. Again and again, the harsh leather stung Dawn’s helplessly exposed bottom and sex.

Not even the pain of the spiked bar was sufficient for Dawn to keep from trying to somehow bend her bottom away from the fiercely punishing straps that continued to beat her. The strokes across her lower back actually caused her more pain, the skin being so much thinner there, but the cracks over her ass and thighs were still ghastly. Both men were skilled enough to ensure that the broad tips of their straps bit over her yawning genitals every third stroke, stinging the tender pink lips viciously. Dawn Smith shrieked loudly as stroke after stroke slapped her back from neck to knees. One soldier swept a lengthened stroke across the maid’s middle back so the stinging tip could reach down to strike the soft white side of her dangling right tittie. Then both employed the diabolic longer reach. Stinging blasts tortured Dawn Smith’s dangling naked tits from left and right with fiendish intensity. The final bitter tips caressed the screaming girl’s nipples until they swelled up to twice their original size. After a couple of dozen strokes had punished her naked tits, they delivered the next agonizing indignity. WHACKKT! The more powerful elder minion curled his strap up from the boards to slap straight across the vulnerable lips of her cunt.


The two minions laughed as they attacked the stocked girl’s hairless genitals with their whips. Again and again the cruel leather kissed her tender labia. The elder maintained his rising strokes while the younger used a darting downward slash over Dawn’s hips that snapped the the end two inches against the plump pink lips with savage force.

Dawn hung from the cruel stocks, utterly miserable in her agony. “Bring the lard,” Corto commanded. The soldiers brought up a small vat of fat and set it in the coals. Immediately, it started melting.

Corto splashed a cup of water into her face and slapped her cheeks to bring the wench fully back to consciousness. “Not much longer now, bitch, but it will still be hard. Look.”

Dawn shook her head and followed the man’s gaze. She gasped in horror. The two guards had just finished screwing an iron post into the stone platform. At its top, the metal pole broadened into a wide phallus shape liberally adorned with short sharp spikes.

Corto Hayward dipped his hands into the melted lard. Returning to Dawn’s side, he knelt down and began slathering it up and down her trembling inner thighs. “This will keep your skin intact a little longer when you ride the fire, bitch. It won’t do anything to reduce the agony you will feel, of course.” He chuckled, now rubbing the grease over and into her swollen pudenda. Finally, he smeared the lard over Dawn’s ripe bare breasts. He didn’t really have to treat the mounds, but he enjoyed the sight of proud female breasts shining in the sun. The feel of the naked gourds sliding slickly under his fingers was a thrill in itself. He paid special attention to the large naked nipples, tugging and rubbing the broad disks with his grease-slick fingertips. “The flames won’t reach these beauties right away, heretic,” Corto said to the helpless girl, “but I have some interesting other tools to apply to them and the lard will help there too. But that’s later. Now it’s time to mount you for your just punishment.” Finally, he stopped and gestured to the soldiers.

The two freed her from the blood-streaked pillory, dragged her over, and then lifted the petite nude girl and carried her over to the hideous iron post, stopping only long enough to lock her neck and wrists into an iron cangue that held her arms out and away behind her nude torso. So desperately did the welted young girl struggle that it was difficult for the two men to control her slippery nude body. But they were just too strong. Dawn screamed in pain and terror as they slowly lowered her, carefully inserting the rounded head between her swollen labial lips. Her own blood added to the lubricating lard as the metal penis reached up into her vagina. They only stopped when her toes just reached the stones and then released her. Dawn wailed in agony. Only by straining to her utmost could she ease the inexorable pressure against her cervix. The spikes sliced the tender female flesh and created a fierce burning pain between her legs. With her hands and arms spread and locked into the iron cangue, the girl was utterly helpless to either escape the impaling shaft or hide her naked female torso from the other cruel devices close at hand.

First the two torturers went to work on her nude torso with their whips again, starting with her front this time. The lashes caressed Dawn’s pert bare breasts and belly repeatedly as the girl’s strength waned and she dropped down, impaling herself on the spiked iron post. The sharp steel ripped that most sensitive flesh open and bright beads of blood began to ooze down her inner thighs. Stepping constantly around the screaming wretch, they swept their braided leather tools repeatedly across her body. Back, belly, and buttocks all soon sported fresh raw red streaks that leaked fresh bloody trails. But it was the twin turrets of her tits that took the majority of their strokes. By bending the rods holding her wrist cuffs back at an angle, Dawn’s ripe bare breasts were forced to jut arrogantly out and away from her heaving ribcage. They were natural targets for the cutting whips and both soon sported numerous fresh red welts. The crowd relished the cruel sexual focus of the torture, calling out vile suggestions to the guards.

“The titties again, good gaoler! Girls hate having their udders whipped!”

“No, no, flog her bottom! It’s red now, but blood will make it redder!”

“Whip the heretic wench harder. Make her scream!”

“Torture the maid harder! Whip those fat breasts of hers! Make her scream!”

Now Corto took a hand as well. Pulling on a pair of heavy gloves, he drew a long rod from the brazier. Even in the bright sunlight, the end third clearly glowed with fierce internal heat. The crowd roared its approval. Keeping out of the way of the two floggers, he reached in to press the red-hot implement against the girl’s naked flesh. Dawn was sweating profusely from her ordeal and every demonic touch was accompanied by a loud crackling hiss. As this was an execution, no effort was made to keep from leaving marks and Corto usually held the rod in place until her skin charred black beneath it. The blond’s screams were painful to the ears. Already her suffering was excruciating, intolerable in its intensity, and yet it only continued to grow still more extreme. Corto came around to her front with a fresh rod. He pressed the glowing steel up against her chest, right where the tits met her ribs. The miserable girl wailed hoarsely at this new attack. The magistrate pressed up against the rounded undersides, lifting the two globes. One guard took advantage of the new presentation, pumping his meaty arm down in a flurry of vertical strokes that blasted the raised mounds from armpit to teat while the red-hot iron rod seared the sensitive white undersides.

Blood was now running freely down the steel post impaling her vagina. Her frenzied motions under the sadistic torture had the effect of making her ride the metal phallus like a lover. The numerous spikes that covered it had shredded her genitals, inside and out. Worse, before the cunt blood reached halfway down the pole, it started bubbling away. Though they had kept the roasting fire low, the steel was anchored in its center and was absorbing the heat up its length. The base was already glowing like Corto’s irons. Soon the end buried inside her would grow hot as the fire and sear her inner walls. The insides of both slim legs starting at her ankles were flushed bright red and liberally covered with painful burn blisters. The outer lips of her labia were bloated, red, and blistering as well.

One executioner moved behind her so he could sweep his whip across Dawn’s slim back from shoulders to thighs. He sent ten straight lashes over her lower torso, over the demure sacral dimples where the skin was thin and delicate. The other savaged the front from ribs to knees, abrading the skin and drawing oozing scarlet with almost every cut. The two men had entered her cell late last night, promising to kill her quickly if she would consent to willingly pleasure them. Each had fucked her and forced her to use her mouth and lips to fellate them to orgasm before leaving her cell. Dawn had reassembled her tattered dress, weeping in humiliation as she waited for morning and her public execution. She knew now that the promises had been nothing more than tricks to get her to voluntarily open her mouth and spread her legs. Under Corto’s direction, the two guards were presently doing their best, not only to cause her the most extreme agonies possible, but also to prolong those agonies as long as they could.

Hayward doused a bucket of brine against Dawn’s savaged front, reviving the wench for the end of her ordeal. The saltwater had the added advantage of penetrating the countless bleeding welts across her naked torso and further inflaming the nerves even more. There was to be no pity for the girl and, in truth, the magistrate relished the sight before him. He had another accused witch waiting in one of the cells. A tall, well-fleshed redhead named Matty Ross, tonight he would take out the lusts inflamed by watching Dawn Smith’s bloody death with her.

The assembled crowd yelled out their approval as the whips and irons relentlessly caressed the lovely blond girl’s tender white body. Hideously impaled on the spiked iron phallus and with her hands locked helplessly behind her shoulders, the nude young girl could only shriek out her agony and writhe on the cruel iron post. This ordeal lasted a full hour. An hour of feeling the whip lashes biting across her round bare breasts, scouring her delicate nipples, and always, always, Corto’s devilish touches against her thighs, sides, and back with the red-hot rods. Each and every one began with a loud, sharp hiss as it contacted the sweating white skin and the girl screamed. The hiss turned into a moist crackling sound as the flesh seared and burned down to raw blackened meat. Dawn was displayed for execution—there was no reason to spare her any scarring. Corto Harwood next touched a fresh glowing rod to the bulging undercurve of Dawn’s left breast, holding it there until the skin blistered and then charred. “HEEEEEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH! HEEEEEEAAAAHHHHH!

“HEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHH! Oh my poor titties, oh they hurt so. No more, please, no more, no more . . .”

By the time the long hour was over, Dawn Smith’s naked young body was heavily decorated with dark weals that seeped blood down her torso and the brighter red marks left from the irons that highlighted most of her most sensitive curves. The lovely young girl’s form heaved and danced on the torture prod, on the edge of insanity from the barbarous suffering. Corto stuck his last iron back into the coals.

Now he picked up a short, oiled torch. Sticking it over the brazier, he set it alight and then held it aloft before the yelling crowd.

“Now the heretic burns!” he cried out. “There can be no mercy for any unbeliever!” The magistrate then lowered the torch and held it to the pile of wood arranged around the base of the vertical post. After a couple of minutes, the sticks started burning on their own and Dawn could feel the first dainty whispers of heat caressing her impaled and bleeding slit.

Oh no. No. NOOOO! Now the full horror of her ordeal was made clear. They were going to burn her alive while she perched at the top of the cruel iron pole. The fire was made deliberately small to prolong her suffering, roasting her thighs and genitals before consuming her. In the meantime, the rest of her lovely female body was helpless and exposed to whatever additional horrors they chose to inflict on it before she was consumed by the fire. Numerous whips and demonic implements of torment still lay waiting on a table nearby. Dawn shrieked in mindless agony. The bright yellow flames danced up to lick at her trembling inner thighs with tongues of hideous pain. The roiling heat continued up between her legs to lave at her whipped and puffy labia.

Corto went behind the hapless wench with a fresh rod of red-hot steel. He dragged it roughly up and down both inner thighs, bursting open many of the blisters and searing the raw flesh revealed beneath. The pole was now glowing over halfway up; she was certainly starting to feel the heat up inside her notch. It clearly wasn’t hot enough to cauterize yet as blood continued to flow liberally. His rod was still hot, so Corto applied a devilish kiss. Taking careful aim, he pressed the rounded tip against her anus and slowly pushed it up between the spasming bottom cheeks.

It was hard to believe that such a noise could come from such a little girl. Her eyes bulged and she hopped desperately up and down on the cruel dildo as she tried to escape the hot iron sliding slowly into her ass. More blood gushed, only now it boiled mere inches beneath her gash. The shredded flesh between her legs was already starting to cook.

This time Corto chose a set of short tongs from the coals. Standing in front of the girl, he raised them toward her left nipple. He had to grab the breast to steady it, so vigorously did it wobble. Then the jaws found the swollen pap and he started to squeeze. Corto felt his prick hard as steel inside his pants. The maid’s blue eyes were wild with indescribable suffering. Her strength was fading now, but she was still aware enough to feel this new atrocity. Corto squeezed and twisted, crushing the rigid teat even as the hot steel roasted it. He gave one final squeeze, inflicting the final measure of crushing agony and then ripped the nipple off her chest. The crowd’s roar of approval couldn’t drown out Dawn’s wail of pain. The guards added a fresh pile of sticks to the smoldering embers between her feet. They caught immediately and the hellish yellow flames reached up anew to lick at her blistered thighs and slit. Then all three men went to work on the miserable nude girl with the red-hot tongs.

Dawn Smith’s screams took on a new crazed quality. Fresh pincers were pulled from the large brazier repeatedly, glowing bright with fierce internal heat. The jaws opened and darted forward to grip a morsel of naked female skin, pinching the flesh painfully even as the hot metal broiled it. Corto continued the torture of her bare breasts, burning and ripping her tender undercurves and upper slopes alike. After seven of the cruel bites, he crushed the right nipple to charred ruin. Her taut sides produced some good screams, as did her whipped buttocks, but the loudest of all came when they applied their red-hot tongs to Dawn’s burning inner thighs and labia. The iron was easily hot enough to cauterize the skin, but the ripping and pulping left tears that dripped scarlet down her body. More blood oozed from the cuffs holding her wrists uselessly out and back. Dawn Smith was fading fast under the hellish torment. Corto now shifted to the Cat’s Claw, four curved blades that hooked to a needle point, resting in the coals of the brazier. Hayward held it up and smiled, blowing on the ghastly instrument to send out a stream of brightly glowing sparks. Now the claws gleamed with a dull red glow. The magistrate started with Dawn’s taut sides, hooking the tips of the claws into the into the tender skin of her right underarm and then slowly drawing the sizzling blades down to her hips. The young blond shrieked madly in agony as four hissing red lines ripped her skin. Corto decided against the breast rippers, terrifying instruments, but once employed, there was little left for additional pain.

Hayward drew another Claw from the coals. This one he dragged straight down Dawn’s back, slicing the skin and briefly exposing the white bones of her spine and back ribs before the blood ran and then was quickly cauterized closed.

Corto drew three more fresh glowing paws from the coals. One raked down her left side and the other two shredded the backs of Dawn’s thighs from buttocks to knees. The girl’s screams grew ever more raw and ragged under the fiendish ripping of her tender flesh, but they were scarcely louder than the roars of the assembled villagers watching her martyrdom.

The metal rod piercing her sex was now red with heat right up to the puffy seared lips. The torn flesh inside was broiling now and bloody steam hissed from her loins. Dawn had been strong—she was still alive after an hour and a half of the most brutal tortures, after all—but she couldn’t endure much more. All three men attacked her at once, their three glowing pincers biting lower thigh, breast undercurve, and front of the slit where the clit sat. Dawn let out one final raw shriek of impressive volume that stopped suddenly. Her legs buckled completely and she sagged down on the red-hot iron post penetrating her genitals. The outer lips sizzled as the glowing metal rod between them roasted the flesh, but it was the fierce inner heat that caused her the most excruciating pain. Sweat burst from her body at the hellish suffering, adding to the melted lard to make the lusty young blond shine in the hot afternoon sunlight.

By this point, Dawn Smith’s screams had faded to pathetic mewling whimpers. The Magistrate and his minions continued to pinch, crush, and burn ever new morsels of female flesh while her swollen gash hissed out a steady gush of steam. Her once soft white body was now liberally decorated by the long red stripes from the whips and the brighter scarlet marks of the red-hot irons. Blackened spots, many oozing trickles of blood, were spread across her body where the glowing pincers had bitten.

The executioners kept feeding the fire down between her feet, adding faggots to maintain the fire and continue roasting the impaled girl’s inner thighs and cunt. Dawn’s ever louder shrieks of desperate suffering rang out over the assembled crowd. One guard greased his hand liberaly in the pail of lard, his other constantly replacing a glowing iron from the brazier. He would grease a thigh or breast with the liquid lard and then slide the red-hot instrument in his other hand over the slippery female skin just greased. The radiant implements hissed and crackled as they fried Dawn’s welted skin.

The pretty blond was once again screeching dementedly under the insanely excruciating torture. Her nude young body jerked and thrashed on the top of the spiked iron phallus with the end of her strength. The flesh between her thighs was bloated and sizzling around the red-hot post, the once tender white skin blackened and cracked. Her entire nude torso was liberally decorated with the scarlet around black of long thin burn scars. Corto gripped her remaining intact nipple with pincers fresh from the coals. Dawn’s inchoate shrieks ripped out of her throat as the tender bud was crushed between the glowing jaws and finally ripped away. The crowd yelled out its approval at the stimulating and sadistic sight.

The long hours of hideous torment finally took their toll. Dawn’s screams had been reduced to pitiful ragged wails. The blonde’s naked body heaved with her efforts to suck in enough air to somehow endure the savage torment the men inflicted on her. By now, both back and front of her naked lower body were flushed bright red and heavily adorned with hard wet burn blisters. A steady stream of shiny blood leaked out of her impaled vagina, only to burst into crackling steam on the red-hot rod the moment it exited her body. The pyre had been steadily built up to the point that it was uncomfortable for the executioners to continue to use their pincers. Not that it really mattered any more. The young tavern maid was in terrible pain and clearly near death. The two now changed to long bullwhips, stroking the braided leather out to caress Dawn’s torso with a rapid pattern of explosive cracks. Corto stood back, watching the end. The tapered whips continued carving the girl’s spasming body, breaking countless burn blisters open and splashing the closest audience members with blood.

This last assault managed to lift the maid to a final, even higher, level of suffering and Dawn Smith shrieked out her frantic agony. There was one last loud keening wail and the girl’s horribly abused nude body collapsed down on the glowing vaginal spear. Her form shook and thrashed in its final agonies and then, suddenly, hung still. Corto listened to the steady clink of coins in his tip jars while Dawn Smith’s form hung motionless, slowly consumed by the fire.

The magistrate acknowledged the frenzied approval of the crowd before picking up his tips. In his pants, his prick was hard as rock, aroused and ready for release. “Prepare the Ross girl for me,” he said to the two minions. “Mount her on the X-Frame. I will be there shortly to begin her interrogation. She should be broken and ready for next weekend’s entertainment.”


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