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“Move your ass, scum! The Centurion does not like to be kept waiting!”

Crysana looked up and tried to straighten her tormented back. It had been a long march since her capture that morning, but now she found herself in the fortress, the centre of Roman power in her country.

She tried to relax her aching arms and shoulders, but those were kept firmly in position by the two branches that formed a stock-like restraint. The rough wood had rubbed away the skin from her wrists and neck during the seemingly endless day.

Behind her she heard Belisandra’s low sobbing. She felt pity for the young apprentice who had had the bad luck to have been at her side when the Romans attacked the hidden sanctuary. The few defenders had been completely surprised and killed in a short bloody battle. But they had wanted Crysana alive, and to her sorrow they had overwhelmed her before she could use her dagger to commit suicide. Now she knew all too well that her death would not be so easy.

“On your knees, slut!” An abrupt pull on the rope brought her back to reality and she fell forward, staring at the dusty boots of a Roman soldier who stepped on her braid, keeping her bent in a humiliating position of supplication.

“Ave, Centurion! It was as easy as expected.”

Crysana didn’t listen to his report as she tried to regain her breath and calm her pounding heart. Would they crucify her at once? She shuddered in fear at the thought, but probably this would be the best thing that could happen to her.

“I can’t tell you how happy I am that you are finally our guest.” The centurion grasped her chin firmly and forced her head up so she stared into his grinning face. “But I still miss your sister. Certainly you can tell me where I have to send my invitation?”

Crysana didn’t answer, just looked at him disdainfully.

“No?” He laughed loudly. “Well, then take her to Severinus and his toys. I’m sure he knows a way to make her sing!”

“Never, you Roman bastard!” Crysana struggled in vain as she was dragged to her feet and pushed in the direction of a dark building closed by heavy wooden doors.

“HAHAHA…maybe, maybe…. but maybe your screams will be loud enough to be heard in her hideout and she will come here on her own.” He smiled maliciously. “And be sure that we will have prepared a friendly welcome for the Queen. Take her away!”

“What shall we do with this one, Centurion?” The soldier pointed to the black haired apprentice who still lay exhausted on the ground following the scene with eyes open wide with terror.

“A sweet little thing, but not that important. Your men have earned a reward; they can have some fun with her, then nail her to a cross here in the courtyard so she can listen to the screams of her high priestess during her last hours!”

posted May 18th, 2003

The smell of blood, sweat and tears nearly made the young priestess vomit when the Roman soldier dragged her into the rotten building, completely ignoring her desperate struggles. Crysana’s eyes widened in horror when she saw all the cruel devices in the large room, but she could not avoid being pushed forward to a tall man in a short tunic who watched her advance with a malicious grin.

“This is one of those Amazons? She doesn’t look very dangerous to my eyes.”

“Yes, Severinus, but she is a priestess, not a warrior.” The soldier laughed. “You should treat her with respect, she is the sister of their Queen!”

“Royal blood, ehh? Very nice. I think I have a fitting throne for her.” Laughing he pointed to iron triangle that was fixed to a vertical post with cross-like arms. The traces of dried blood on the iron and the ground below it left no doubt about its use, and filled Crysana with terror as she was pulled struggling in its direction.

“Sometimes I envy you your job,” the soldier sighed, “and today more than ever.”

Severinus laughed loudly. “Yes, it seems this is going to be a rewarding day filled with fun. But you can help me to place this sweet cunt on her throne.”

Quickly the branches were bound to ropes and Crysana was hoisted upward until she was suspended helplessly in the air, the rough wood pressing her chin and neck. “And now away with those clothes. We don’t want to spoil them with blood, would we?” She kicked wildly and twisted in her bonds until her chin, neck and wrists were rubbed bloody, but her desperate struggles couldn’t stop them from tearing her tunic from her body in just a few seconds. She felt strong hands at her thighs, lifting her further until the iron triangle touched the insides of her trembling legs. She ignored her tormentors‘ mocking and insults and with closed eyes prayed silently to her Goddess to give her strength. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt the edge of the triangle divide her lips and then a moment later a bolt of pain exploded from her pussy as her full weight was dropped hard on the iron ridge.

Crysana had never felt pain like it in her life. In an instant a cold sweat was rolling off her body and she was shivering uncontrollably. But with incredible strength of will she gritted her teeth until she thought they would shatter and choked a loud scream into a guttural moan. In excruciating pain Crysana cried out to her Goddess, trying to ease her agony with prayer. So great was her suffering she was barely aware of them binding her ankles with strong ropes, bending her legs at the knees and fixing them behind the pole. She was naked now except for her sandals and immobilized on the iron wedge, leaving her totally defenceless and open to any of the thousand methods her sadistic captors had available for her torture.

posted May 26th, 2003

“…And don’t forget – it’s not only for fun, Severinus! The Centurion wants to find her sister, and rather quickly too. “The rough hand on the soft skin of her belly, the thumb playing with her pubic hair made her forget the pain from her vagina for a moment, and she stared at the soldier with hate and disgust.

“You are wasting your time, Roman bastards.” She tried to control her voice but it was hoarse and trembled from pain and fear. “You might as well kill me at once, I will never betray my people and my sister!”

“No?” Both men laughed loudly and with his thumb the soldier pressed her clit harder onto the iron edge, getting a loud moan of pain from her. “Maybe you are as stubborn as you pretend, but killing you now would ruin all the fun I intend to have with you.” Still laughing Severinus pulled away the last straps of her sandals completing Crysana‘s denuding.

“Well, she is yours now,” the soldier sighed with envy, “but outside is another Amazon cunt crying out for good Roman dicks. I should hurry to get my part while she is still useable.”

The soldier left and when he opened the door to the courtyard Crysana could hear the desperate screams of Belisandra. For a moment her own torment was forgotten for she knew all too well what the Romans were doing with her.

“Well, well… now that we are all alone, the only question is how to begin spending our time together.” With a lascivious grin his eyes ran along her naked body trembling and sweating despite her efforts to hide her fear. Crysana closed her eyes to avoid his hungry eyes. But closed eyes were no protection and she felt his hands on her firm breasts, first softly and then with greater and greater force. “These are very nice! I’ll bet this makes your pussy wet, right?”

“You will pay for this… you and all Romans will learn the Revenge of the Goddess!”

“The Goddess…ohhh,” he grinned maliciously and cowered in pretended fear. “I shudder… but I have never met her. Maybe we should call her?” Without a warning he drove his fist into her belly, driving the air out of lungs. She was fighting desperately to breathe when another blow crashed into her stomach. He beat her methodically, pounding her belly, stomach and liver. With each blow she slid back and forth on the iron triangle so that the rough metal tore at the tender flesh of her vagina. She wanted to scream out her pain but couldn’t draw in the breath before a new blow left her wheezing and coughing. The only sounds she could manage were grunts and a loud gasping for air. A hard blow to her lower belly forced up a bitter yellow liquid from her empty stomach which mixed with blood from where she had bitten the inside of her mouth. Blood from her pussy ran down the metal triangle and mixed with her sweat in a puddle beneath her.

“Hmmm… it seems your Goddess doesn’t care much about you.” He laughed out loudly and watched her sweat-bathed body, greedily contemplating what he would do with it in the coming hours. “No lightning from above yet. But I think we can go on; maybe she will come later to watch her brave little priestess. Just scream loud enough so she will be able to eventually hear you.“

posted June 3rd, 2003

“Wake up!” A wave of ice cold water hit Crysana’s face and brought the priestess back to consciousness.

“Maybe a slender girl like you is not heavy enough to enjoy this throne?” He laughed and began tying a wooden bucket behind her knees so it hung below her. Crysana watched with growing dread, not yet comprehending what he intended but knowing it would cause her more pain. She watched him closely, afraid of what would come next but needing to know nonetheless. He fetched a heavy stone and lifted it above the bucket tied behind her knees. Crysana shook her head from side to side, her eyes wide with fear. “No…please don’t…no…no…“ she whimpered. He smiled up at the bound priestess and slowly lowered the stone into the bucket. The added weight pulled Crysana’s thighs down and forced the metal edge deeper into her bloody vagina. She stiffed a scream but couldn’t hold back her loud pain-racked groans.

After the second stone he smirked at her, “There is enough room for many more stones in the bucket. Do I need to use them all?” He dropped the third stone from a meter’s height and finally Crysana could hold back her screams no longer. By the time the bucket had been filled the poor girl was shrieking like a wounded animal, scream after tortured scream. The torturer grabbed her waist and stepped onto the bucket adding still more weight and the young priestess felt like an axe had been driven up her groin. Tears ran in streams from eyes that stared into the distance as though searching for help. Her mouth was open but all that issued were a series of croaking gasps. The pain was overwhelming; she barely felt his fingers pulling at her nipples.

“Well, enough with your cunt for the moment.” He laughed out loudly. “Time to do something about these delightful tits!”

Eyes wide with fear the beautiful priestess followed each move as her torturer prepared her breasts for the masher. Uncertain at first as to the operation of the device she was sure of its purpose – as with every other instrument in the chamber it was to cause her pain.

He began to carefully turn the screws, each twist increasing the vice-like pressure, slowly crushing her imprisoned breasts. She fought back her screams until her eyes fluttered and her head lolled forward. But he would not let her escape her torture by fainting. The torturer stepped down hard on the bucket, driving the rough edge of the triangle deep into her bleeding vagina. The sudden agony between her legs snapped her head back and brought a sharp cry from her lips.

ФYou think this is pain?Ф he laughed, ФI am only starting with you.Ф He fixed the masher to the stake behind her, binding her naked torso even more tightly to the rough wood and increasing the pressure on her poor breasts trapped between the bars of the press. Crysana moaned in pain as the torturer twisted her nipple and moved to the brazier and lifted one of the glowing coals with the tongs.

ФNo, please…Ф she bit her tongue. She knew begging was useless and she swore silently to her Goddess that she would bear her torture with dignity before this Roman scum. Still, as he came toward her with the red-hot coal she turned her head from him, terror stricken and unable to watch.

ФLast chance to talk before we get serious with the coals.Ф He held the coal for long seconds so close she could feel the heat singe the tiny hairs on her left calf, letting her anticipate the agony she would soon suffer. She clenched her fists and shut her eyes tightly, steeling herself for the pain. But when the coal touched her skin, burning it with a sizzling sound like dry paper in flames, all her self-control was forgotten and she screamed like a banshee, writhing and struggling in her bonds. She was still screaming from the first branding when the coal was pressed a second time to the side of her hip, her torturer twisting it into her flesh until the heat started to fade and Crysana could no longer scream, her voice ruined from her high pitched shrieking. When he continued with a new coal, touching her thighs and belly, she could only sob and croak out gurgling moans. The torture was relentless, Severinus only pausing to take new coals from the brazier. Tears streamed down the helpless girlТs face and her body jerked and twitched with each application of the fire. She was half crazed with the pain but he didnТt stop, burning her again and again until her body was covered with angry red wounds.

“Now, my dear priestess, are you ready to talk to your new God?” She opened her eyes in despair when she felt his hands on her wet face, her whole body trembling and sweating, nothing but a source of pain. She wanted to say something, anything to stop the torture, but her throat was raw from screaming and when she tried to cry out, ФStop…stop…IТll tell you.Ф All that emerged was a rasping cough. She swallowed trying to regain her voice so she could surrender to her Roman torturer but in that moment of silence BelisandraТs agonized shrieking reached her from the courtyard. Severinus smiled. He could tell by the sound of the young girlТs screams that the soldiers had finished raping her and had started her torture. Crysana knew that if she broke now she would soon be listening to the screams of her sister.

So she only closed her eyes. “Very well, so we will have still more fun,Ф he said, her fresh tears wetting his hand that gripped her face, УAnd sooner or later you will beg me to allow you to give up your sister.”

posted June 23rd, 2003

Severinus measured his captive carefully. How much more could she take before she talked? Or died? The only important thing was that she did the first before the second. She was barely conscious and he was sure that for the moment she was beyond his reach. When he released the terrible weight that hung between her legs splitting her pussy open on the iron wedge, she had merely sighed with relief. And her eyes had barely opened when the masher was removed – when the easing of the awful pressure was followed by new sharp pain as the blood rushed back into her tormented breasts – but she had given only a short low groan before they closed once again.

Her naked body fell limply over his shoulder when he lowered her from her throne of pain. He was going to carry her to the next station but decided it would be more humiliating for her to have to walk to her own torture. He dropped her so she lay against the stake, forced awkwardly to her side by the pillory-like branches that imprisoned her wrists and neck. ФGet up!Ф he ordered, and when she did not respond he prodded her with his toe then kicked her in the side. ФGet up you heathen slut!Ф

He might as well have ordered her to fly. She did not have the strength to rise to her knees, no less stand. But he took her failure to obey him as arrogant resistance and snarling with anger kicked her once more before dragging her across the floor to what appeared to be a low bench.

Crysana saw the sharp ridges and felt the rope tied to her rough pillory, but it was the iron shackles and the bars that ran through them that filled her with dread. Their purpose was obvious – to hold a human being helpless and immobile under torture. Still she didnТt understand how she would be held until the rope had pulled her to her feet and the torturer had lifted her left leg back and placed it in the shackles.

Severinus worked quickly, first locking her ankles and then pressing the iron bar behind her knees so her shins were forced into the sharp wedges of the bench. This new pain seemed to reawaken the old agony of her burns and mutilated pussy and she couldnТt stop the groans of pain that came from her lips. Worse, she knew this was nothing. He hadnТt even started her new torture yet. What would he use on her to make her talk? The lash? The flaying knife? Oh Goddess, what if he used the hot coals on her breasts and between her legs? She whimpered and prayed her heart would burst from the pain before she screamed out her sisterТs betrayal.

He stood in front of her and she tried to keep the terror from showing on her face. Be brave, she said to herself, Be brave forPaniesha, but when he pressed his finger into her wounded vagina she thought she would start screaming right then. Instead she managed to gasp out the last brave thing she would ever say, ФGet on with the torture you Roman dog.Ф

ФSoon enough, Priestess, soon enough.Ф There was a timbre to his voice that Crysana had never heard before and his anger had disappeared as quickly as it had arisen. When she looked down she saw he had pulled his stiff cock from beneath his apron. She had never seen a manТs organ before, but she knew immediately what the tumescent member and the musky odour that emanated from his sweating body meant – she was going to be raped.

ФNoЕnoЕnoЕplease no. You canТt. Please you canТt.Ф Crysana sobbed and begged but Severinus had already walked behind her. ФIТm a Virgin for the Goddess,Ф she wailed in utter despair when she felt his hands on her flanks and his prick between her buttocks, ФDonТt do this to me!Ф She had sworn an oath of celibacy to the Goddess and no torture could have made her willingly surrender herself to a man. That she was helpless to stop her rape did not matter. Her vow would be broken and now not even death would release her from eternal suffering.

ФDonТt worry little Priestess,Ф he yelled over her agonized pleading, ФYou will remain a virgin in your cunt…for now,Ф and he pushed his cock into the tight passageway of her anus.

When the soldiers heard CrysanaТs scream they paused in their torture of Belisandra and looked at each other with wonder. Even the Centurion seemed frozen for a moment, then said without irony, ФWherever in the world she is, her sister will have heard that.Ф

posted July 7th, 2003

Severinus removed the rough pillory that had kept CrysanaТs arms and neck painfully imprisoned for hour upon hour. Her arms fell at her sides useless and numb and her neck bowed forward. Still she couldnТt help but feel a hopeful stirring in her heart. The bondage had been more than physical; the heavy branches had represented her capture, her torture and her ultimate loss. Even though her ankles and knees were still locked in the iron gybes she felt an uplifting – and foolish – sense of freedom. It did not last long.

Getting his helpless victim locked onto the heavy timber was not difficult for the practiced torturer. He secured her wrists and neck loosely, then bent her hands back at the wrists so clamps at the ends of the beam could capture her fingers. Only when she was splayed out like a crucified martyr did he begin to tighten the clamps, and only then did the young Priestess realize that the clamps were fitted with spikes. He first tightened one wrist, then the other, then the finger screws, a quarter turn each, before returning to the right wrist to start the cycle of pain again, and then again and again. At first it was the spikes that caused her the most pain as they dug into her flesh. But soon it was the pressure of the clamps that had her groaning, then crying aloud with each turn. The blood ran down her arms and between her fingers. She was moaning and sobbing constantly now, certain that with the next turns the iron spikes would crack the bones in her wrists and crush her fingers. It was here that Severinus began to tighten the collar around her delicate neck until the iron pressed against her throat in a grip that left her gasping for air, but just short of strangulation.

Severinus did not say a word as he continued torturing his beautiful prisoner. He turned from her and walked to the wall where a stack of stone slabs lay piled and waiting. Crysana watched his progress wondering with a strange detachment what new torments he had in store for her. When he returned almost staggering under the weight of the stone she twisted as best she could to watch him place it with care on top of her calves. The pain was awful, so much greater than she had expected that she could not quell a sharp cry of anguish. The sharp ridges cut into her shins with unrelenting ferocity and when he walked to the pile of slabs she began to plead, not with him but with the fates that were allowing all this to happen to her. ФNoЕnoЕnoЕФ she wept over and over in a voice no louder than a whisper.

He eased the second stone on top of the first so the pressure on her calves and shins built to a crescendo that reached its climax when he leaned his knee on the two slabs adding his weight to the total. As Crysana screamed he reached around her and squeezed her nipple. ФNow for those soft sweet tits,Ф he said.

The naked young Amazon was stretched open before him on her knees, her back arched and her arms spread wide as though welcoming his attentions. Severinus drank in her beauty and before he fitted the crusher around her torso he showed her the spikes that lined the metal plates. She started to shake her head but the iron collar bit into her neck and prevented even that meagre effort at denial. When the metal touched the soft skin of bare breasts she tried to twist away from the terrible device, but pinned as she was by stone, metal and wood she could only manage to swing her pinioned arms like broken bird wings.

The crusher was set. He had one hand pressed against the rear plate, holding the instrument steady against her back. She could already feel the spikes scraping the skin of her shoulder blades. His left hand was on the screw ready to start the slow destruction of her breasts. Their eyes met, torturer and victim, and hers searched his for a sign of humanity, pleading silently for mercy, then going wide in terror as he turned the screw and she felt the spikes grab hold of her breasts.

The centre spikes stabbed CrysanaТs nipples drawing the first drops of blood, then pushing the tender buds back into her breasts. As the press flattened her breasts the spikes just to the sides came into play, and then the ones outside those. By then the centre spikes had pierced her to the core, stretching her nipples around the tapered iron prongs that spitted her breasts.

Severinus went about his task in a workmanlike manner, ignoring her screams and pleas. He only smiled occasionally and did not show the same pleasure in her agony that he had prior to the rape. After he had flattened the centre of her breasts against her chest he added another stone slab to the weight crushing shins against the sharp wedges, and the pain that Crysana didnТt think could get worse intensified.

“I’m going to pull out your fingernails now,” he told her matter-of-factly. By now Crysana understood nothing but the agony that racked her entire being. She had even forgotten why she was being tortured. In a pain-filled fog she stared at him as he fitted the tongs over the middle finger of her left hand, her mind trying to grasp exactly what it was he was going to do to her. All she knew for certain was she could not stand anymore pain. She wanted to die.

”I will do it slowly. All ten nails. I think before we reach the half way mark you will be ready to talk.”

Searing white-hot pain cut through the fog. Crysana shrieked. It felt as though her finger had been thrust into a brazier of glowing coals, but the pain did not ebb, it grew and grew. Crysana twisted her head QUOOM.COM ENEMIES OF ROMEdespite the choking metal collar, her screams echoing off the stone walls of the torture chamber. She stared in disbelief at the nail straining to come lose from her finger. Why did it not end? Why did the pain keep growing? Then with a slight sucking noise the nail came lose leaving Crysana bent under the weight of the timber, sobbing with relief at the end of the agony. Then, ”Where is your sister?”

Before Crysana could form an answer he had clamped the tongs on to the next nail. ”I don’t know! I don’t know!” she screamed in horror. The agony wasn’t over; she had nine more nails to be torn out.

After the fourth nail she broke, ”No more…no more,” she begged, ”I’ll tell you.” She gasped, her voice a thin rasp destroyed by her own screams. Severinus paused and looked at her but said nothing. ”In the hills,” she whispered.

”Where in the hills?”

”In the forest. With our warriors.”

”No! Where exactly.” He was losing what little patience he had, anxious to get back to torturing his beautiful prisoner. The sight of her naked and helpless begging him for mercy had awakened the lust temporarily dulled when he had emptied himself inside her.

”I…I don’t know. How could I know?” she sobbed.

Severinus moved to her right hand. ”I will leave your thumbs for last,” he said.

posted July 23rd, 2003

After ripping out each nail Severinus held the bloody sliver in front of Crysana’s face and asked her, ”Where is your sister?” After she stopped screaming from the pain of her torture she would beg for mercy, sobbing that she had told him the little she knew. He would smile and simply fasten the tongs to her next fingernail, ignoring her shrieks of ”No! No! Not again! Not again!” and begin to slowly pull another nail free of her finger.

She fainted four times before Severinus even started on her thumbs. Each time he would wait until she regained consciousness before resuming her torture, twice speeding the process by splashing her face with water. She passed out twice more as he slowly pulled out the nail of her right thumb, the last nail remaining on her mutilated fingers. The first time he woke her by slapping her face and pinching her earlobe, not wanting to release the pressure on her tormented finger by going to the bucket, but not wanting to waste his efforts on the unconscious Priestess. Finally she gave a low whimper and fainted as the final nail came free. This time he did not bother reviving her.

The torturer surveyed his beautiful captive for a moment, her naked body bent under the weight of the timber across her bare shoulders. He would now prepare her for the next round of torture. He pulled the rope that ran from the beam taut, first lifting Crysana’s head and shoulders, then stretching her body into tight arc. The tortured girl moaned, but did not come to. Next he carefully nailed her long blond braids to the wood bending her neck back and lifting her face up. Her eyes fluttered but did not open.

He had a number of chains with hooks on the end and carefully selected the one that was the correct length and fastened it to the press that crushed her breasts. With the same tongs that he had used to tear out her nails he now squeezed her nose closed, forcing the semiconscious girl to open her mouth. At the same moment he inserted the hook over her jaw her eyes opened wide in fright and confusion. With her head held back by the nailed braids and the hook pulling down on her jaw, she could not close her mouth.

Utterly helpless she could only watch and whimper, ”Stop. Stop,” in a voice distorted by her gaping mouth as yet another slab was carried over to her immobile body. The air rushed from her lungs as it was added to the others crushing her shins into the sharp ridges.

Before she realized what was happening he had seized her tongue and stretched it out of her mouth using the tongs. For the last time she tried to beg him to stop her torture but all that emerged from her mouth was a garbled cry of pain and desperation that rose to a shriek as he pushed the hot needle through the meat of her tongue.

Crysana gave up all hope. She realized they would never let her go, never stop her torture no matter what she told them, even if she promised to deliver her sister to them in chains. She also knew in her heart that whether she talked or not her sister was doomed. There could be no escape from the all-powerful Roman Empire for her sister just as there could be no escape for Crysana from her mortal torture.

Severinus toyed with her, demanding to know where her sister was even though with her mouth forced open and the needles through her tongue she could issue pitiful mewling noises from her throat. He enjoyed watching her body twitch and writhe as he prodded her with hot needles to her arms and legs and belly. Then as a final degradation before he raped her he pissed into her wide-open mouth.

posted July 28th, 2003

After all the pain, after all the torture and humiliation, it was the rape that totally destroyed the young priestess. When she felt his cock penetrate and break her hymen, something deep inside her cracked. Her Goddess had not helped her, would not even allow her to die. The Roman gods were more powerful. No, even her Roman torturer was more powerful than her Goddess was. And to prove it he added to her agony by tightening the spikes that penetrated her breasts even as he fucked her virgin pussy.

Even though he was sure Crysana did not know her sister’s whereabouts, that all he could get from her now were screams of agony, Severinus continued the cruel torture’ He burned away the skin from the soles of her feet, used the hot iron on her back and finally penetrated her anus with the glowing iron, happy to listen to her hoarse yelling and screaming that filled the room in the hours before dawn. With the rising sun the Centurion entered the torture room.

He looked at the broken body of the priestess with something like amusement. “What did she tell you? I think she must have given up everything.”

Severinus shrugged his shoulders. “Not much, only that the Queen was somewhere in the woods, but I’m sure that she really doesn’t know much more.” He laughed hoarsely and touched her breast with the tip of the glowing iron, but even this no longer had the power to make her react.

A quick look in her bloodshot eyes convinced the Centurion that she was somewhere else at the moment, but still alive. “If she cannot lead us to her sister, maybe she will lead her sister to us.”

“A trap?”

“Yes, of course… and this nice piece of flesh will be the lure. Prepare her for the task. I’m rather sure we won’t have to wait very long…”

“NO, NO!” The screams of the young Amazon priestess filled the courtyard. With wide opened eyes she followed Crysana when she was dragged to the large building, but they hadn’t left her much time. Before the doors finally closed behind the high priestess, Belisandra was grabbed by rough hand, pushed from soldier to soldier, a helpless toy between the laughing and mocking men until they reached the mid of the courtyard, where she was dragged to a strange wooden construction, a kind of triangular pyramid made of a couple wooden posts.

“I fetch some ropes,” she heard one of the soldiers say, still out of breath, and trying to get rid of all those hands, fumbling and touching skin, her breasts, her slender thighs.

“Not necessary, don’t waste any time the spikes will hold her as well as ropes!”

The laughing increased, and filled with terror and fear she felt lifted by strong hands, her right arm stretch upwards, the back of the lower arm pressed against the sharp tip of a nail.

Now she realized the meaning of the words, and desperately she struggled with all of her remaining forces, but of course the soldier were much too strong.

A hard push and the nail penetrated her arm, found its way between the two bones of her lower arm, and left it on the front side, together with a fountain of blood shooting out of the wound.

The shock of the pain made the girl scream in agony, she didn’t notice that she lost control over her bladder, just yelled, screamed and twisted wildly in the firm grip of the soldiers.

“Stupid idiot, you hit the big vein,” one shouted out loudly. “Hurry on, fetch a hot iron to burn out the wound before she dies – Severinus has certainly one for you!”

The grip loosened and pulled downwards by her own weight the hole in her arm was increased to a finger long slit until the nail was stopped by her wrist bones. The shock of pain was too much and with a final loud scream, Belisandra fainted, hanging like dead at her right arm.

While one soldier run to the door in her back where Crysana vanished just some minutes ago, she was lifted again, her left arm pressed against another nail on her left.

“No, please,” she whispered sobbing, nearly nor audible in the noise from the laughter and mocking of surrounding crowd of soldiers. And of course nobody cared about her beseeching. This time with more care her arm was pressed backwards deeper and deeper into the nail, until its tip burst through the skin on the front side of her lower arm.

Her screams certainly could be heard miles away, but finally Belisandra hung limb from the nails, not even recognizing the soldier who returned from the torture chamber with a glowing iron in his hand.

posted August 17th, 2003

“Don’t worry, the doctor is here with the right medicine for you!” Laughing the soldier pressed his hand against Belisandra’s trembling arm and scratched with his fingernails in the still heavily bleeding wound, causing another wild scream.

“Hurry up, idiot. I don’t want to fuck a bloodless corpse!”

The soldier with the iron showed his teeth, and then the glowing tip of the iron touched the wound, penetrated it with a sizzling sound. A cloud of vapor raised from the wound, the smell of burnt flesh filled the air as did the screams of the martyred priestess who kicked and twisted wildly, blind and nearly crazy from the pain until she fainted another time. But she was still alive, her muscles winced like in spasms and her chest moved with the hectic and irregular breathing. The stream of blood had decreased to a tiny ripple that ran out of the burnt and crusted wound.

Two other soldiers moved to her left and right, both armed with long whips, and without hesitating they started to beat the girl. From both sides and accompanied by the laughing and mocking of the exhausted crowd of dozens of soldiers, the lashes smacked against her flesh, shredded the thin cloth of her dress to rags and covered her skin with bleeding welts on her back and her front.

She yelled and kicked in desperation, thrown from side to side and twisted by the pure force of the lashes and her futile attempts to avoid the lashes, until she lost all of her force and hung lowly sobbing and whimpering in the air, only moved by the whips, that hit her without any mercy until the sad remains of her dress finally fell down to the ground.

She only wanted to be dead now, prayed silent prayers to her Goddess to take her away from here, but it was not over yet. Through tear stained eyes she had to watch how the first soldiers quickly threw away their armours and advanced…

posted September 6th, 2003

Marcus Gracchus watched thoughtfully the battered body of the young priestess who hanged limb from the nails. She didn’t scream anymore after she had been raped and abused all over the day. But this silence didn’t fit in his plans; more screams from the fortress would enhance the motivation and lower the caution of this damned Amazon Queen. And she was near!

Gracchus knew this, somewhere outside the fortress in the hills, probably together with her best warriors and waiting for a chance to rescue her sister.

A loud groan from the crucified girl made him look at her again, her body started to tremble and shudder, indicating the begin of another attack of spasms, that shook her body for some minutes, causing some lower, hoarse screams, before her head fell down on her chest again, and she only sobbed in pain and desperation.

He raised her head, his fingers touched the trembling lips, her half open eyes didn’t seem to see him, didn’t seem to see anything. He smiled and looked at the silently watching soldiers.

“It will be cold tonight, make a fire for our guest.” He pointed to a pile of wood near the walls. “Maybe this will give her enough heat to sing again a little bit louder!”

Quickly a fireplace was made in the center of the triangular cross, while Gracchus called his officer Gaius Liptinus.

“You will leave tonight together with most of the soldiers.” Liptinus looked at him with some astonishment.

“So Severinus made the cunt talk and we know where the rebels are hidden” He laughed out loudly.

“Well, not a surprise after all this screaming today. But shouldn’t we wait until tomorrow? In the night we could easily run in a trap.”

Marcus smiled. “No, we don’t know where this Queen and her army have crept in the hiding-place, but I think she will come soon. You will lead the army to the hills until dawn and return then. Just make it look like you would exactly know where to go.”

A howling scream stopped him, as the first flames licked upwards and touched the priestess’ skin.

“I’m sure this will call another guest tonight.”

The centurion laughed. “I understand, you think Paniesha is watching us, and think the leaving army is a chance for her to rescue the prisoners.”

“Yes,” the Centurion nodded. “And because she has to think that the our army knows know where her people are hidden, she will send most of her soldiers back to defend her people. So she will come alone or only with some few soldiers. Our guards will wait for her…”

Again a loud scream echoed in the night. He looked to the crucified, the flames where not high enough to burn her fast and completely, but her thighs were already reddened and covered with blisters from the fire.

“Lower the fire a little bit,” he ordered. “She shall survive and scream some hours until she is roasted!”

He pointed at one of the soldiers. “And you take care that she doesn’t stop to scream. Give her something to drink if she is too hoarse to yell, and otherwise use the fire to make our bird sing!”

The terrible screaming echoed still in Paniesha’s ears when she glided quickly down the wall into the fortress. She had to listen it all day long until it stopped at dawn the first time, only to get worse later. It had stopped some minutes ago, and the fear to come to late made her hurry even more. The Romans were caution less; her eye fell to the guard towers where bored guards looked more often to the centre of the fortress than to the surrounding area.

She knew the risk, even if most of the soldiers had left the fortress, there would be enough here to defend it. Nariala had warned her often enough until she finally followed her order to lead the other amazons back to their hideout to warn and protect her people from the danger of the Roman soldiers. She had no illusions; certainly her sister had been tortured until she told the Romans anything. Crysana never was a warrior, she didn’t know pain from battle wounds; she only had her strong believe into the Goddess, but Paniesha doubted that this was enough. And probably the Romans could also break a warrior with the torture.

She shuddered in fear what she would find when she carefully gazed round the corner and her look fell on the wooden construction in the centre of the courtyard. A body hang there motionlessly, well lighted by the fire beyond, but the girl’s hair were black, not the golden curls of her sister. She hated herself for the sigh of relief; this must be Belisandra the other priestess the Romans took with them alive, a young girl, that never had touched any weapon or did anything against Romans! But those devils didn’t care about that, had tortured and abused her without any mercy.

For a moment she was careless in her rage and the sound of her step seemed to fill the air, overturned the low crackling of the fire below the tortured priestess. Paniesha kept her breath and covered in the dark, the guards on the watchtower really seemed to sleep, they didn’t react, and anything else stayed quiet, too. But the crucified girl had raised her head, looking at her. She was not dead, as she thought some moments ago; no, she had heard her, and even tried to tell her something, but her low voice was inaudible. Quickly Paniesha looked to the guards, the movement of her victim seemed to wake them up, they all stared down to her, and each try to move towards the priestess would end in her own reveal. The girls eyes pointed to a door behind her, and again she moved her lips, did she say ‘Crysana?’. Paniesha pointed asking to the door, and the girl nodded with wide-open eyes, until even this move was too much, and she passed out with a low scream.

But this short sign of life brought the nearly sleeping soldier back.

“Still alive, bitch?” Laughing he inflamed the fire with a wooden stick, and as the new heat didn’t show any effect, he raised the wood, hold the flame to Belsiandras breasts. Her scream was silent, when her body bounced, her head thorn upwards, wide open eyes and a mouth opened to a scream, but only a hoarse rattling could been heard, easily overturned by the laughing of the torturer, and from the watchers on the towers that now fully were concentrated on the centre of the courtyard.

This was her chance! Filled with hate and suppressing with force each thought to pierce her sword in the body of those bastards, Paniesha sneaked along the walls until she finally reached the door, Belisandra had pointed to. How she wished to help her, but each try at this moment would only reveal herself; she knew she couldn’t do anything for the poor girl now, even if she nearly broke the grip of her sword in her clenched fist when she saw how the Roman hold the torch between the girls legs, and when the flames licked on her ass and pussy. This finally brought another loud scream, that didn’t sound human anymore before she finally passed out, showing no reaction anymore, whatever the Roman tried.

Paniesha prayed silently that she would be dead finally, while she quickly opened the large door and sneaked inside before the attention of the guards was no longer attracted from their prey.

The smell of blood and sweat nearly made a cough, when she closed the door behind her as silently as possible. Her heart was pounding and she was filled with terror and fear what she would find inside. And she didn’t have to search for a long time. Lit by some torches a body hung at the other end of the hall, nude and motionless, with spread arms like crucified, her skin covered with wounds, sweat and blood shimmered in the flickering light.

For a moment Paniesha was paralysed by the terror of the sight of her sister, who was suspended by her braids and by her bluish swollen thumbs. Then she noticed the trembling and the weak breathes, indicating that Crysana still was alive.

“Crysana! Holdon, I’m here,” she only noticed, how her sister opened her eyes, tried to turn her head towards her, when she run towards her. She didn’t understand the croaking words, and she even didn’t recognize the heavy net falling down. The terrified eyes alerted her, but too late, a moment later she run into the net and fell down, entangled by the net, and fully helpless, when suddenly a horde of Romans surrounded her, some jumping from the roof-bars, others running inside from suddenly opened side-doors.

Desperately she tried to escape from the net, tried to kick, to reach the dagger on her side, but the net only entangled her further, her arms were pressed to her body, while blow after blow from long wooden stakes hit her legs, her torso and her head. Somehow she freed her arm, and her nails hit something soft, a scream and curse gave her a little satisfaction, but of course each struggling was useless in the end. A strong blow hit her face, others followed, to her belly, her sides her face again and again, until the whole world vanished behind a veil. Her resistance weakened more and more. The last thing she noticed before she fainted, was the desperate sobbing from her sister.

posted September 27th, 2003

“What a nice dagger. I’m curious if it is as sharp as it look like.” Grinning the Centurion pulled Paniesha’s dagger out of its sheath and touch the leather armor that covered her chest..

“Shouldn’t we wake up her first, before removing her clothes?” Crysana shuddered in terror, when she heard HIS voice, the voice of the man who did all this pain to her. She couldn’t see what happened; even if her eyes wouldn’t be blinded by the tears, hanging on her braids her head was immobile forced to look upwards. She had seen this net falling down, had tried to shout out, to warn her sister, but her swollen tongue didn’t allow any understandable word. And then she had to listen to those terrible sounds when her sister was overwhelmed, wooden bars hit flesh, she saw the ghostly shadows on the opposite wall, heard the lowering curses and shouts of her sister, until it was finally quiet beside of the laughing and mocking of the Roman soldiers, the orders of the Centurion, metallic sounds when iron shackles where closed. From the corner of her eyes she just got a glimpse to the feet securely hold to wood by iron shackles.

“Oh yes, you are right, Severinus.” The Centurion laughed. “Wake up this cunt first, she shall enjoy this moment as much as I do!”

With the first deep breath of water that filled her lungs, Paniesha woke up. She didn’t realize her situation at once, the lack of air, the pain of the water that seem to burn out her lungs didn’t leave any place in her mind for other thoughts. With some effort she raised her head far enough that her face left the water, and she spent some time, coughing and spitting, until her ears could listen the loud mocking laughers, and her eyes stared upwards in grinning faces.

Filled with rage she pulled at the shackles that hold her arms spread and her legs pressed to the wood below.

“Roman steel has conquered the world, it is more than strong enough to hold a girl like you.” The Roman laughed and increased the pressure of the dagger that pressed her loincloth against her sex. “Relax, soon it will be more comfortable for you!”

“Don’t dare it, you bastard, I will kill you!” She didn’t need to hear the laughers to know that this threatening was rather ridiculous in her current desperate situation, but she couldn’t anything else; being helpless like this was a fully new experience for her, and it was something she couldn’t deal with stoic patience. So she continued to struggle and shout out curses, while the cross was turned in a more horizontal position, and this Roman centurion started to cut her armor in pieces.

posted October 12th, 2003

“I’m curious if she has as nice nipples as her sister.” Crysanas hoarse and shrill scream overturned her sister’s curses, when Severinus squeezed her badly damaged nipples between thumb and index finger; nipples that were swollen and black and blue from the previous tortures.

“Let her go, you coward!” To be forced to listen the screams of her sister nearly made her crazy, made her nearly forget her own situation, until she felt the cold steel of the dagger pressing against her nipple.

“Do you need a nipple for a better comparison?”

She held her breath, waiting for the pain to come, but instead of it she had to listen to another loud scream, when Severinus twisted Crysanas nipple cruelly.

Suddenly the hand with dagger resting on her chest was near enough, and without thinking Paniesha clenched her teeth into the flesh. This scream was a new one, and filled her with satisfaction, gave her more strength to hold the flesh between her teeth, until fresh blood run over her face.

“Let me go, you damned bitched!” His fist had to hit her face several times until she finally couldn’t hold him any longer, and her head banged backwards.

“This you will regret!” She saw the boot coming, but couldn’t avoid that her head was hit by the brutal kick, that made her lips burst at once.

“Take this!” She spitted blood and more kicks followed, her head felt strange, completely numb, she had lost totally the orientation, her head flied from side to side, and she coughed the blood that had entered her lungs.

“Maybe we better should cool down this hottie?” Water mixed with the blood when the cross suddenly was turned backwards and she again swallowed the water with her next breath. Nearly blind from pain, Paniesha raised her head with last effort, only to feel the sole of the boots in her face that pressed her down with force.

She didn’t feel the pain from her wrists and ankles that she damaged with her instinctive furious struggling, didn’t hear the screams and begs of her sister, who beseeched the torturers to stop. Her lungs seemed to burst, sometimes she got a short breath, only enough to keep her alive, before she was pressed again in the meanwhile blood coulored water. When her mind darkened, she didn’t feel the blows and kicks anymore that hit her face, chest and belly. She even didn’t feel, how her legs were spread widely with the cross’s legs and how her last cover was ripped from her hip with a single rude pull.

The first thing she noticed was the low sobbing of her sister. With some effort she tried to open her eyes, to raise her hurting head, but even for this she hadn’t enough strength left and let her head fall backwards with a single loud groans. Her face felt swollen and hurt everywhere, and a sharp pain from her chest made run through her body with each deep breath. Maybe a rip is broken, she thought, and tried to avoid deeper breathes.

Then she got aware the hand on her belly, fingers playing with her pubic hair, touching her vagina. The shock of understanding made her stiffen her body, all muscles in her leg tried to close them, but of course her ankles were still firmly hold by the shackles, and this times her legs were spread far away as she realizes with a shudder.

“Back again, cunt?” The fingers ignored with ease her try to keep her pussy lips closed, rough skin glided inside an inch and rubbed along her clit.

“No, not,” she groaned hoarsely. She never had been touched there before; not that she or most of the other Amazons didn’t like men or sex generally. Only the priestesses had to keep their virginity, no rule forbidden the other Amazons to choose a friend. No, they were the guardians of the holy places, and it was an honour for each man to be chosen as a one time- or not so rarely even long time- partner of one of the Amazons. But since she had become a woman, herself filled Paniesha’s world with war against the Romans, even more since her mother was killed in a battle and she had to lead the battle of her people. There was no room for anything else in her mind but the war, and now it was her worst enemy who touched her, and humiliated her more she ever thought it could happen.

Her body was covered with sweat from one moment to the next, cold sweat that made her tremble, when the fingers glided deeper and deeper and finally touched her virginity, stopped for a short moment, and then tore and destroyed it with a hard push, that made her bounce in the bonds not from the short pain, but from the knowledge of this deep humiliation, that she – the Queen of the Amazons, was nothing but a toy in the hands of her enemies. Through the blood rushing through her ears she heard their laughing, as this Roman bastard smeared his blood-covered fingertip along her thighs and in her soft pubic hair. Paniesha bite her lips to avoid any scream, struggling was useless now, as she knew too well, and would only encourage her captors even more.

“I think, this cunt needs a bit more to get wet enough, Severinus, let her taste the kiss of the whip!”

“At your command, Centurion.” She hold her eyes closed, tried to fight her fear from the expected pain. And she hadn’t wait for a long time, until the whip lashed through the air and the leather knotted tip hit the soft and sensible skin between her legs exactly targeted one finger wide away from her exposed pussy lip.

The pain was a shock, worse than she ever thought. Her body pranced so wildly that the whole coss vibrated, and she couldn’t avoid an excruciating shriek, quickly suppressed by biting her tongue as she got aware her own scream. Hectically breathing she awaited the next blow; her look fell aside to this Roman officer who looked at her with such an amusement and pleasure! The hate and rage made it easier to endure the pain of the following blows that followed now, making their way systematically starting from the mid of her thighs upwards until they reached their base at her hip.

She even could suppress most of the screams, but finally the tip of the whip kissed her pussy lips directly with its cruel force, and now each self-control was gone and she screamed like hell at last, her body seemed to belong to someone else, spasming and twisting in the poor limits that the firm shackles allowed.

“Not too much now, Severinus, don’t destroy her pussy; I want that she still can feel something after the whipping.”

“Maybe those amazons need another method to get really excited?” Severinus grinned and let the whip fall to the limb dangling body to his right. The blow hit Crysana’s breast and brought her back to reality with its cruel force, her mouth stood open as wide as her eyes, but only a gurgling sound was heard, until the tip of lash hit her nipple a second time. Now finally her shrieks filled the room, that got still louder as the whip hit her a third time well targeted to the same nipple again where a stream of light red blood run down shimmering in the torchlight…

The wild screams of her sister made Paniesha forget her own pain, she cursed and struggled, nearly crazy from her helplessness to be forced to watch the brutal whipping of her sister without any chance to help her.

posted November 29th, 2003

“Bring this cutie to her sister; I want to see how much those bitches are loving each other!”

With terror Paniesha followed the moves of this torturer who advanced her sister with a knife in his hands. But to her relief he only used it to cut the rope which holds her swollen thumbs. For a moment her body was hold now only by her braids; streams of blood running down the sides of her face showed how this weight started to tear the skin of her scalp, and with another fast cut he cut her left braid, too. Now she was suspended only by the one remaining braid, and this was too much for it. With an ugly tearing noise overturned by a yelling scream the braid tore, ripping away a nearly palm-sized piece of her scalp, as she fell down heavily to the floor.

The young priestess was nearly insane from the pain, screamed and yelled, pranced in agony while the left part of her face was covered from the heavy stream of blood.

“Come on, bitch, don’t cry, time to meet your lovely sister!” Severinus dragged the girl to the cross and hold her forced to kneel between Paniesha’s legs, pressed her wet face against the bleeding thighs of her sister.

“Lick her and give her some pleasure, certainly you know how to do this!” Crysana stared at him in disbelieve, needed some moments to understand what he wanted her to do. With a last remain of resistance she twisted her head away, feeling the soft pubic of her sister on her face, smelling her sex, that her mouth and nose were forced to touch.

“Let me say it like this, whore: you will give your sister some pleasure, or I will give her some pain!”

posted December 14th, 2003

With short pliers the officer gripped Paniesha‘s nipple, and began squeezing it tighter and tighter. Paniesha‘s face distorted into a grimace of pain and her well-defined muscles stood out in stark relief beneath her skin. Her body shimmered in the torchlight as a new sheen of sweat broke from her every pore. She bit her lip until fresh blood flowed and her eyes bulged in their sockets but in spite of her agony she managed to hold back her screams. Grinning, the Roman increased the pressure even more, twisting her ravaged nipple until she couldn’t hold bear the pain anymore and her suppressed groans finally ended in a loud howling scream. Paniesha’s back bent like into a tight arch, in spasm and trembling until she fell back to the wood with a loud thud. Her breathing was now a series of frantic gasps. She tried to speak but the pain had stolen her voice and she could only cough and groan as the officer massaged the black and blue colored nipple between thumb and index finger, stretching her breast in his grip and placing the pliers again at the bleeding base of her nipple.

“No, please, stop…” Crysana whispered in tears, “I…I will do anything you want.”

“No, don’t do it!” Paniesha managed to cry, but Crysana could not stand to see her spread-eagled sister tortured anymore and ignored her plea. She opened her mouth, whimpering softly as her badly burnt and wounded tongue touched the lips of her sister’s pussy.

The soft touch on her swollen pussy lips still pain-racked from her whipping sent a shower of heat though Paniesha’s body. She uttered a low groan. The feeling from her sex, the wetness of her thighs, now mostly tears and blood from her sister’s face, drove her nearly crazy. She almost forgot the pressure of the pliers at her nipple. But the officer now increased the pressure enough to make her groans of pain louder. Hearing her sister’s new moans Crysana intensified her efforts, her tongue splitting her sisters lips, softly stroking the inside of her pussy and her clit.

A wave of lust and a pleasuring heat filled Paniesha’s body from her sex upwards. She hated her body for reacting like this, hated this wetness and smell between her legs. She twisted her chest as far as her bounds allowed to increase the pain at her nipple and help her suppress the feelings of pleasure. The laughing and mocking of her captors also helped, and as she opened her eyes and her look fell on those mocking staring faces, any thought of pleasure was gone. Still she felt the heat between her legs, but it didn’t reach her brain anymore, and her heart was cold as ice.

She succeeded in hiding her despair and only glared at the officer with disdain, even as she saw that the torturer had knelt down behind her sister and had started fucking her with brutal force from behind, pushing her mouth hard against her pussy. She could feel Crysana‘s tears falling on her belly.

“What are you waiting for, you brave Roman.” She looked contemptuously at the officers loins were his excitement showed in great measure below his tunic. “Or do you prefer tender boy asses. I’m sure your mother would be proud to see her little son now!”

“Damned bitch!” His face turned dark with anger and with a last squeeze on the pliers he nearly tore off her nipple. Paniesha didn’t scream, and that she didn’t show her pain but only laughed, made his anger even greater. He kicked Crysana heavily, so she fell sideward to the floor, followed by her rapist, who was so busy with his rape that he didn’t notice anything else and continued with his abuse as if nothing had happened. Then the officer took the place between Paniesha’s spread legs.

“I will show you what a good fuck is, you whore!” Quickly he raised his tunic. “And then you will learn what real pain is!”

Without hesitating, he impaled her brutally with the whole length of his penis, so his hairy balls slapped against her wet buttocks. He started to fuck her with brutal force. Paniesha wanted to scream and yell, but she merely closed her eyes so as not to betray her suffering. Her body vibrated under his powerful thrusts, and while sometimes she could not stifle a groan of pain, she succeeded in staying calm and motionless even as he emptied his semen deep inside of her.

“Was that the best you can do?” She fought back an almost overwhelming need to cry, spitting at him instead as he rearranged his tunic. “Now I know the purpose of the many slaves that Roman women have at home while their husbands are at war. Certainly the slaves teach your wife and daughters how to pleasure a woman!”

She could see the effort with which he fought his disappointment with her calm reaction and his anger at her insults. “Don’t think you can make me angry enough to give you a quick death, bitch!” He hissed between the teeth. “You will wish a thousand times to be dead, before this mercy is given to you and to your beloved sister and I shall have the pleasure of hearing you beg for it. He pointed the floor beyond, where Crysana lay in her blood, fully beaten and was now without any resistance licking the penis of her rapist and torturer.

“She seems to learn rather quickly how to become a good pleasure slave, and you shall have the honour of watching this process for the rest of the night. Maybe she can teach you something!”

Severinus looked to him asking, “What do you mean?”

The Centurion laughed roughly. “Time for another present for our brave soldiers.” He pointed to a bending block and then to the priestess. “Bind her there, but in a way that her sister can always watch her, and then the bravest of our soldiers can fuck her wherever they want.”

“You damned bastard,” Paniesha coughed and fought once again against her shackles, as desperately and uselessly as before.

“You not… not yet. Watch and learn from your sister how to be a good girl.” He took a metal belt from a hook and threw it to Severinus. “Protect this one, I want to be sure that our hot soldiers don’t forget my orders.” He laughed out loudly and wiped her lips – this time carefully avoiding her bared teeth – while Severinus fastened the iron chastity belt with its spiked insides. “If someone will be brave enough to try your mouth, he may try – of course at his own risk!”

Laughing, he left his helpless captive, and only a short time later the first of the soldiers entered to rape her sister who lay bound just some inches away from her face. And that soldier was only the first of many on this seemingly endless night.

posted January 25th, 2004

Severinus hurried to the torture chamber at the break of the dawn, ignoring the corpse hanging in the middle of courtyard. He had smelt enough burned flesh that the sickly sweet odour no longer bothered him and he barely took notice of it as he rushed by. A group of soldiers looked at him with obvious disappointment that they would not get their turn at the young girl. Severinus called to them, “Don’t worry. Give me a few minutes and I’ll give you the Priestess. I don’t need her anymore and you can take the whore with you to your quarters. ‘ He hurried inside, not so much because he couldn’t wait to continue his work, but more because he knew that it had been rather careless of him to let the other girl hang upside down for so many hours. This Amazon bitch was strong but nevertheless is was not impossible that she hadn’t survived her ordeal. Certainly he would be the one who would be held responsible, even if he had only obeying the centurion’s order. A soldier who was fucking the priestess didn’t even notice his entrance, and only looked up as Severinus turned the cross right side up with one move. The Amazon groaned and opened her eyes and stared at him with virulent disgust and hate. Her breath rattled and her muscles showed the effects of tightness and cramping; certainly she endured many painful spasms over the past hours, but now she was awake and there was no sign of weakness in her reddish eyes.

“This bitch is really strong,” he thought to himself, “It will be a real job breaking this one, not as easy a game as the other one who was broken in just a few hours.” Meanwhile the soldier finished raping the helpless Priestess with a final lustful grunt and started to leave, but Severinus held him back.

“Wait a moment, help me with this one, then you can take the whore with you to the quarters.” Crysana didn’t show any reaction as they removed the bonds from her blood-crusted wrists, only her shallow breathing showed that she still was alive. Her limbs had no strength and her body was like a rag doll’s. Her mouth and eyes were half-open but she didn’t seem to see anything. He opened her eyes wider but didn’t get any reaction. “Useless to ask her anything, she wouldn’t even understand the question now. Well, some more fucks won’t kill her and closing her legs will be impossible for her in the next days regardless how many fucks she still gets.”

He looked down at her thighs and pussy and the putrid mass of more or less dried blood and semen. Her ass had also has been used by a number of the Romans and her face was barely visible below a dirty sticky mass of scum. He pulled her upward with ease and pressed her against her sister on the cross, near enough so their noses touched. He noticed with satisfaction the terrified look in the Paneisha’s face. So she has her weak spot, too! “Look at you lovely sister, you look in the mirror of your own future!” The terror in her face disappeared and as she looked at him now there was nothing but hate. “The gods will punish you,” she coughed. Her voice was rough and barely audible but somehow still strong. “And if you are not careful for one second I will be more than pleased to be their tool.”

He believed her and had to fight back a bad feeling that started growing inside him, the result of looking into her hate-filled eyes. “You will not get this chance, but I can give you another one.” He grinned diabolically. “You have heard the Centurions words. You will be tortured, no matter what you say. Perhaps you will resist the torture for a while. Then you will tell us everything, you will beg us to stop, and maybe you during us all you will curse us and call out to your gods. This won’t change a thing for you – you will die more than one death and each will be slow and painful.” He noticed a shudder that ran over her skin but her look didn’t change at all – if anything it burned with even more hate.

“Then start, or are you paid for talking?”

“Stupid cunt!” He bent back the face of her sister that had sunken down on her chest by her hair. “Have another look. You cannot change your fate but if you make us content enough maybe you can change hers. Some scars, some fun with men…. nothing has happened to her that will not heal with the time.” He played with her broken thumbs, nothing more than a bloody swollen mess of splintered bones. “Well, most will heal, but a pleasure slave doesn’t need thumbs so urgently, right? If you cooperate she could become a rather nice pleasure slave. If not, you will watch her die slowly on the cross.” He laughed softly as her face showed some terror again. “You are her Queen, so it is your decision. The future of your sister lies in your hands – a cruel death or a life for pleasure?”

He laughed loudly, as she opened her mouth to curse him again. “Stop! Don’t decide so quickly; think about it while I help you understand the meaning of true pain. When you have learned this lesson I will ask you again for your decision.” With a push he threw the limp body of the priestess to the watching soldier. “Meanwhile your sister will go to the training camp for her slave career.”

He told the soldier to leave. “Go with her, but make sure that she stays alive; you are now responsible for her, understood?” The soldier nodded with a grin and left with a last regretful look at the girl on the cross. How he wished to stay here and watch Severinus at work!

The torturer wiped his hands and gave a long careful look at the perfect body of his victim. “And now we will begin our lesson. Are you ready?”

Paniesha didn’t have any illusions that she could endure the coming torture with calm and without giving him the reactions that this bastard seemed to love so much. She tried her best to hide her fear, but her heart seem to beat so loudly that its noise filled the room as he started to prepare his tools. Already now her whole body was a source of pain from wrists to ankles. Some hours she had spent now in this position, the rough iron shackles had damaged her wrists and ankles, so that meanwhile it rubbed over raw flesh; her muscles were spasming and clamped, she had to breath carefully to avoid the piercing pain from her probably broken rib and each try to move seem to encourage her muscles to protest and remember her with starting spasms better to do anything to let them relax. The whip-marks at her thighs were still burning, her squeezed nipple hurt like hell, and maybe the worst was the feeling of sickness from her stomach, that made a sick again and again, even if she had emptied her stomach more than once, and nothing but bad smelling bitter and sour liquid came in her mouth and dropped down to her chest with each new attack of sickness. She felt hot and cold at the same time, and somehow dizzy, her head hurt like glowing needles would move behind her eyes; but this all would certainly be nothing compared to the expected pain.

Her look fell to the knives, the needles, the spikes, the brazier with glowing coals, meanwhile carefully placed between her legs and already warming her thighs with its heat. She tried to imagine and to prepare how those coals would feel on her skin; she had seen the wounds on her sister’s body too clearly. Her sister! The thought what had happened to her and what currently was happening filled her with wild rage, made it easier to forget her own misery, but at the same time she remember the cruelness of this question she had to answer. To condemn her to the cross, or to a life as a slave of the Romans. She knew how she had to decide as the Queen of the Amazons, but as her sister she were filled with doubts and despair, asked her to forgive her decision that would condemn her to a cruel death. ‘Goddess, show your mercy, and let her die now quickly,’ she prayed, because she knew that there was no other hope to avoid more pain.

“I want that you learn something of the pain your sister will get, if you decide to crucify her!” She felt his hand on her thigh, how he tried to grab it, but the muscle beyond the soft skin was cramped and hard as a stone, only the skin bulged in his grip. She opened her eyes and saw the long needle in his other hand. Instinctively she tried to twist away, but there was no way out at all. First the sharp tip pricked the skin and the thin layer of flesh, before it was stopped for a shirt moment by the hard muscles.

She bite her tongue, cursing herself at the same time for this useless waste of strength. Who cared if she screams or not? But a look in his waiting face while he slowly twisted the needle deeper and deeper inside the muscle, piercing flesh, nerves and veins on its way gave her stubbornness more strength, and not more than a loud groan clenched between pressed teeth was the result of his effort, that ended when the tip of needle left the muscle on the other side, bulged the skin from inside and then burst out again together with a thin shower of light red blood.

Her buttocks bounced back to the wood below, now she realized how strongly she had arched her body and the effort made her cough and spit, new cold sweat covered her body and she trembled with clutching teeth despite of the heat in the room.

The next needle… placed higher, near the base of her thigh, just where the hardened tendon connected it to the hip. She groaned and the first tears shot in her eyes when this tip was pierced inside, inch for inch, until it had found its way and burst out scratching along the bones of her hip.

Now she breathed with wide open mouth, the eyes wide open, but nearly blinded by the pain, she couldn’t get enough breath after she had hold it the whole time while the needle was on its way. The pain from her rib was forgotten, a negligible little matter compared with the revolting pain in her thigh and hip, that send one wave of pain followed by the next downwards to her curled toes and upwards along her left side, as if a long needle would be piercing her from hip to shoulder. Something dropped out of mouth… spittle and blood, but this didn’t make any difference. With all effort she calmed down, tried to control the hectic breathes. But he already advanced with another needle, scratching the tip along her skin like looking for the next place to pierce her.

‘My Goddess, this I cannot endure a long time!’ Desperation filled her, she even couldn’t close her eyes, felt like forced to follow the needle, that finally came to rest at her hardener calm.

“Pleaa…” she nearly bite her tongue in pieces to suppress a useless beseeching, and the blood from her tongue filled her mouth and a moment later her lungs as she breathes sharply, when this needle was pierced deeper. She coughed and spitted, the pain filled her now completely her head bounced forward and backward, and spasms run trough her right leg without end.

Her torturer worked silently, carefully he looked for each reaction, because he still was not sure about her strength. The night upside down on the cross was a strong effort for her heart, and even if it obviously hadn’t weakened her mind very much, it has weakened her body quite a lot, and in each case he had to avoid that this heart would stop to beat.

So he gave her a short rest after this third needle, clapped on her chest, not to torture, but to help her to spit out the inhaled blood, and then watched her quietly for some minutes. She hung rather limb now, the head sunken down, the hands clawed to fists. Blood dropped out of this fists, showing that her fingernails had pierced the skin of the palms. Her muscles still strongly hardened at her whole body, but somehow her right leg, pierced now with the three carefully placed needles seem to live its own life, stretch and bend in the poor limits of the bounds, and spasmed without an end. The sharp smell of the urine from a rather dried out body rose in his nose, as her bladder emptied uncontrollably. He nodded contently; from a stranger from the Eastern countries he had learnt this method of placing needles at very special places. He hadn’t tried this before, but obviously it was very effective. Not much blood, at least not enough to weaken the victim, but a maximum of pain, like this stranger had told him.

posted May 12th, 2004

He filled a cup with dirty water from a barrel and walked toward her. She raised her head at his approach, panic written on her face as she was sure he had another needle for her torture. She regained control of herself quickly and looked away in despair. Although it was water he carried she knew her torture would resume in a matter of minutes.

She couldn’t hide the pain anymore. It showed in her eyes, her breathing, her every movement and expression. Nonetheless he admired her mental strength and control. To break this bitch would really be a task worthy of his skills. He pressed the cup to her lips. She wanted to refuse, but her desiccated body’s desperate need for liquid forced her to drink quickly and greedily before she twisted her head away again. Her disdainful scowl covered the shame she felt at giving in to her body.

One again he looked at her pierced leg and placed his hand on her flesh to feel the trembling muscles below, gauging her condition before he took the next needle. This would be a very special insertion and he was curious if it would be the one to crack the first line of her resistance and make her scream loudly for the first time. The short rest had given her back some of her strength, but she knew all too well that this was no blessing and that it would only allow this bastard to torture her longer and harder. Meanwhile the pain from her leg had nearly paralyzed her left side from her foot to her head. It seemed as if not three, but a thousand needles were stuck in her flesh. But in spite of this unrelenting agony it was somehow easier to take than before, perhaps because when she thought of the way they had tortured her sister she felt she had to resist this pain if only for Crysana.

So Paniesha took only a short sharp breath when her torturer placed the next needle directly under her knee cap and pressed just hard enough for her to feel the sharp tip begin to prick her flesh. A cold shudder ran through her body, and she pressed her teeth firmly together, waiting for the pain, but determined not to give her torturer the pleasure of her screams.

When the pain came it came with a power she could never have imagined. She would have screamed like a banshee but the shock of the pain stole her breath and left her mouth gaping silently open. Quickly she turned her head and pressed her wide-open mouth against her shoulder. The pain was too much – she had to scream. She bit down hard until she tasted blood in her mouth but she felt no pain from her arm, only the incredible agony from her knee. She was blind and deaf from the pain. It filled her world. There was nothing else but pain. She surrendered to it, screaming uncontrollably now, but kept her open mouth clamped tightly on her shoulder, gagging herself with her own flesh so only the suffocated remains of her screams could be heard.

The pain from her knee was driving her close to madness. Her eyes rolled in their sockets and blood ran from her nose. Again and again her back arched and then slammed backward on the cross, but there was nothing she could do to ease the pain or make it any more bearable. Still he pushed the needle in deeper, twisting it as he did to milk every last ounce of pain from his victim. Finally she could bear it no longer. She was ready to give up: to scream for him to stop, to beg, to promise, to do anything that might make it end. But as she pulled her mouth away from her arm to plead for mercy she saw the face of her sister as clearly as if she were before her, Crysana’s vacant expression showing all too clearly that her mind, body and will had been completely broken by the endless hours of Roman torture. This picture gave Paniesha new strength and she fought back the pain. She would survive and get revenge, or at least die nobly, if for nothing else than for her sister’s sake.

She took a sharp breath and started to laugh, and laughed even louder when she saw the astonished face of her torturer who stopped twisting the needle sticking deeply in her knee. Confused he gave the needle another push until it burst out on the other side before he cleaned his blood-soiled hands on his tunic.

At first he thought she had gone mad and would be lost to him for further torture, but her eyes were still clear; she knew what she was doing. Perhaps she was trying to get him to kill her but this wouldn’t happen. No victim of his had died by accident in many years, and certainly he would make no fatal mistake now when he had finally found prey worthy to his skills.

He looked out the window – it was perhaps one hour after dawn. The Centurion would be sleep late after last night, and certainly no soldier would dare to enter without permission. He licked his lips and his eyes wandered over Paniesha’s beautiful body, shimmering in the light, trembling and in spasm. She had stopped laughing and stared at him through narrowed eyes, inhaling through a half opened mouth. Her look was full of fury, pain and hate. There was no sign of weakness, even with tears running down her cheeks. He made a quick decision and unlocked her chastity belt, letting it slip from her loins while he lifted his tunic…

He grabbed her hair and held it so her face was close enough to his own that he could see each pore, each fine hair on her soft skin. But he held her far enough away to avoid her teeth. By the look in her eyes he could clearly see they were still dangerous. “I love you my dear,” he whispered in her ear with a grin and then groaned in pleasure as his cock penetrated her tight wet vagina. She fought against him, tried to press the lips of her pussy tight to keep him out, but that only made her even tighter and almost drove him crazy with desire. Holding her head upright by the hair near her ears, he forced her to look at his face while he fucked her, and he fucked her as he had never fucked anyone before.

The rape was worse than any torture, worse than the all the agony she had suffered. It was not his penis impaling her with a force that made her feel she was being split in two. No, it was his face that radiated a pleasure beyond words and the thought that it was she who was giving him this bliss. This bastard who had broken her sister with his torture and rape, who had inflicted such unbelievable pain on her and would – as soon as he was done pleasuring himself with her – continue to torture her with his horrible needles. More than anything she wished to reach his face, his nose, anything with her teeth, to rip away the expression of bliss with her nails. But she was pinioned helplessly on the cross and could only stare at him and watch him enjoy himself with her rape.

When he had finished fucking her he looked down at her with a smug satisfied expression on his face that made her cry out in despair. She couldn’t bear being the source of his heavenly pleasure. She raged and cursed, screamed and spit at him, but his only reaction was to laugh until she had exhausted herself completely and hung moaning and sobbing in her bonds. She had vented her rage and now the pain rushed back with a ferocity that left her gasping in agony.

She felt his hand on her chin and he raised her head to look in her eyes. She gathered herself to spit in his face but her mouth was dry as dust and she could do no more than look at him with helpless hatred as he licked his lips.

“You are a great whore, Queen. Maybe I will ask to buy you as my private sex slave when you are finally broken.” He laughed loudly, his eyes showing the immense enjoyment he was getting from humiliating her. It was not lost on her that he had used the word “when” and not “if,” and once again she felt her anger rise. He seemed to have no doubt he would be able to break her, but she would show him how he had underestimated her courage. “Never!” she swore silently to all her gods, “Never will you break me!”


posted August 20th, 2004

The torture with the needles continued: her right leg, her arms, then her breasts and finally her nipples, drawing scream after scream from her lips. But Severinus was aware something had changed. She still screamed and bucked against her bonds, sometimes howling like a wounded animal. But although her body reacted as the torturer expected, her eyes seemed to show a mind that he could not reach, as though the pain was somehow distant from the core of her being.

He began to feel uneasy under her stare, her steady gaze of hatred that promised to remember each second of her torture for the time when she would pay him back tenfold. “I have to take care, not to give her even the slightest chance,” Severinus said to himself. Nonetheless for the first time he was unsure he would be able to break her. To break her body would of course be no problem. Any fool with the proper instruments could do that. But at this moment he had no idea how to find a way into her mind again, a way to make her surrender and beg.

There were four needles remaining. Maybe with those four needles he could finally break her will? He doubted it, she was the strongest victim he had ever tortured, but he had an idea. There would be nothing lost to try it.

“Four needles left, my love,” he whispered keeping his voice as gentle as he could, grinning when she stiffened, not on the word “needles” but when he called her “my love.”

“Yes, my LOVE,” and he put special emphasis on the word, enjoying her outrage as he repeated the endearment, “These four needles will teach you something about the agony your sister will feel on the cross. Maybe you will like it so much that you will present her with this execution as your final gift.” She didn’t answer, but pressed her lips into a tight line, following him with her burning eyes.

He moved around her until he reached her left hand and opened her fist. This was not difficult; she had been weakened by her torture to the point physical resistance was impossible. She was too weak to even clench her fist again, or to move her hand away when he bent it upwards. The palm was shredded and bloody from her own fingernails, and the fingernails themselves were partially broken from the force with which she had clenched her fist in the throes of agony during her hours of torture.

“Needles for you but nails for your sister. Please remember this is just a taste, nails are a lot worse because they splinter the bones instead of merely piercing the flesh. But you will get a better idea of what her pain will be like when I take care of your feet.”

He could see her swallow deeply but she did not answer. Well, he hadn’t expected one. Holding her hand bent he placed the tip of the needle at the back, looking for the soft flesh between the bones of her middle and ring fingers. Then slowly he started to pierce the flesh. The needle entered rather easily. Although he nearly lost his grip on her hand as it was slippery from sweat and blood and the pain made her fight with her last ounce of strength.

She was screaming again, louder than ever, and throwing her head from side to side. He worked slowly, drawing out her agony, until the he could actually see a bulge under her palm from the tip of the needle. When it split the skin he smashed the back of her hand against the wood to drive the rest of the needle through her flesh. It shot through her palm, the blood smeared tip standing ten inches above the palm and the fingertips that were clutched into a claw.

Trembling as though she were naked and freezing in a snowstorm she tried to speak but all that left her lips were some indecipherable murmurs and a foam of spittle and blood while she stared at her pierced hand with eyes wide open in disbelief as though unable to comprehend how a single thin needle could cause such pain

“As I said… only a small comparison to the pain your sister will endure if you force us to crucify her.”

Paniesha managed to find her voice, even though her words were no more than gasps of pain “You…you…bastards… goddamn bastards…I pray you…. never find peace…. you and all your family.”

He simply laughed at her and her curse. She spit at him when he moved to her other hand, scratching the needle along her face and leaving a fine bleeding line from cheek to cheek. This time she knew what was coming and she clenched her fist with a new strength born of desperation. Cursing under his breath he tried to pry open her fingers but it was as though they were petrified. After his grip had slipped off a few times he shrugged his shoulders and bent her fisted hand upwards, forcefully pushing the needle through the back of her hand until the tip pushed aside her cramped fingers after exiting her palm. He ignored her agonized screams and banged the back of her hand against the wood until the needle was fully driven through.

“Now try to imagine that these are nails driven through your flesh and into the wood behind it. And that you are hanging suspended from the nails!” He pulled at both needles from behind, pulling her hand backwards as far as her bound wrists would allow. She shrieked and bucked in agony and he wondered where she got the strength to arch her body again and again, but of course he knew that pain was a good motivator, revealing even the most secret strengths of the human body. When he let go of the nails the wounds in her palm had enlarged to slits nearly an inch long, clearly visible because there was not much blood in her arms after the long hours of her suspension.

“Could you really do this to your little sister? Maybe a strong warrior like you can endure such torture…” And here he mockingly he massaged her rock-hard biceps, then pulled and twisted the needle that pierced it until there was no more air in her lungs and her screaming stopped. “But your sister isn’t a strong warrior like you, is she?”

Quickly he tilted the cross backwards so as to bring his suffering victim’s feet to the right height. “And the hands are not the worst part. There are more bones in the feet to be splintered when a nail is driven from the bottom to the top.”

He pressed the needle against her sole, letting her feel the point break the skin. She was trembling now, violently, as though racked by a fever. But it wasn’t a fever, it was fear, and Severinus began to think again that he could break this girl. The first millimeters were easy but then the needle struck bone. Paniesha whimpered, and when he had to use a mallet to drive it further through her foot her agonized screams started again. It took three blows, then finally the tip of the needle broke free and appeared in the midst of a fountain of blood that spurted from the top of her foot. With another blow the needle’s head almost disappeared into the blood-smeared sole, but this time she didn’t react. She had fainted from the pain of the nailing of her foot and she hung on the cross now as though dead. Only her rattling breath showed that she was still alive.

For a moment he thought about waking her with a bucket of water, but then thought – better, I will wake her with pain. And indeed, together with sound of splintering bones came the sound of her scream as he drove the final needle into her left foot. And she didn’t faint again. Not when he finished his bloody work with two more blows. And not when he went to her head and spread the movable arms until they formed a horizontal line and then righted the cross and closed its legs, so that she hung suspended from her shackles. Crucified.


posted September 9th, 2004

“This is similar to what your sister will feel, but of course she won’t have metal shackles to help support her weight, only the nails that hold her to the wood. How long will she suffer? I doubt that she can endure much more than one day; maybe two if we give her enough to drink. But maybe three or even more if we support her a bit.”

Grinning he impaled the tortured Amazon with four fingers, the thumb outside pressing hard against her clit. He pushed her upward – she was surprisingly light – and now all her calmness and self-restraint disappeared and she screamed and cried and danced wildly on the invading hand.

His fingers felt the strong muscles inside her cunt tighten and spasm and the thought that his cock could now be in there instead of his fingers, gave him an almost painful erection.

“Not such soft fingers for your baby sister. When she is on the cross we certainly will need paling at least an arm’s thickness to fill her completely. And of course this pale will be studded with dozens of fine nails.” To illustrate this he raked his fingernails inside her pussy, and feeling the wetness running down – even if it was only blood – along with her screams and frantic writhing he couldn’t hold back his ejaculation any longer and just succeeded in lifting his tunic so that his semen shot upwards and hit her thighs and torso, and even her face.

Breathing heavily he let go and she sank down, flaccid and pale with terror and panic. “I will take a rest now and give you some time to think what a nice present a crucifixion will be for your sister. In the afternoon we will continue our lessons in pain, so get some rest. I don’t like it when I have to use so much water to wake you up every few minutes.”

She didn’t show any reaction just hung limply in her bonds, but her eyes flashed with anger and defiance. “Fuck you, you animal!” She coughed heavily, before her head sunk down on her chest and her only movements were the rise and fall of her rib cage and the spasms which rippled her muscles from her fingers to her toes and back again.

She looked down the length of her crucified body, at the shimmering skin, the blue nipple, the breasts pierced with long needles, blood and dried semen, fresh and dried sweat. Then below her belly to legs pierced with more needles, more dried blood and finally to her feet, obscenely spiked from sole to instep. Whose body was this? It couldn’t be hers. But the pain, the excruciating, never-ending pain told her it was indeed hers. Still she did not want to believe that her body which she had taken such pride in had been so disfigured. But when the spasms started she could not deny the horrible truth.

The first started at her neck and ran along her arms, arms that a moment before had been numb and lifeless. Now they trembled with a violence that racked her with pain. She groaned and cried, too weak to even scream, and when the fit was finally over her sigh of relief had not even died in her throat when another began, starting at her spine and running down her buttocks and legs to her spiked feet, leaving her trembling and covered with a new sheen of cold sweat.

‘Crucified’, she thought with a shudder, but not nailed to the beam, nothing like what her sister would have to endure. And certainly not for as long either. Could they really keep her sister alive and suffering for three or four days? Paniesha had no doubt they could, and she realized with horror that she would be kept alive that entire time to watch her sister’s slow and horrible death. And before that? Certainly she would be freed from this cross soon to be tortured in ways even crueler and more horrible than what she had already suffered. She couldn’t imagine anything worse than the agony she had already been through, but before this morning she couldn’t have guessed pain like she had already suffered would have been possible.

New pain racked her shoulders; in this position they seemed to carry much more than her weight. She felt like huge iron weights had been tied to her ankles and were slowly pulling her shoulders out of their sockets. Worse, with each passing minute breathing became more difficult and more painful. She only could inhale small amounts of air with each breath so her breathing was now as fast and desperate as a fish out of water. Four days of this? Tears started to run down her cheeks. “Chrysana,” she thought, “Oh Crysana what have I done?”

Somewhat she noticed, that she was not alone anymore, but carefully watched by this damned torturer and the Roman centurion.

“I think we should give her rest, and continue tomorrow,” Severinus snapped with his fingers against the needle in her leg muscle and made it vibrate, but he didn’t get more then a little bit louder groans. “After some hours rest, new tortures will have more effect than now.”

The officer nodded thoughtfully, and twisted the needle in her breast so heavily, that the encrusted wound was torn and a new ripple of light red blood run along the steel and dropped. Her breathing got heavier, but again no other reaction, and so he agreed.

“You are right, Severinus; it would be a waste of time to go on now, and until tomorrow the wheel will be finished. I cannot wait to see your new construction in use.” He laughed out loudly and pulled the needle out of her flesh, causing a new severe pain, when the encrusted wound was torn open again, and this time his effort was rewarded by a low hoarse howling and a weak try to twist the body away from him, immediately stopped by another wave of spasms running along the muscles of the legs and belly.

The removing of all those needle was another torture for itself, and more than once she couldn’t keep back a hoarse scream, and in the end she was barely consciously, could not even move a limb when she was finally freed from the cross, only to be fixed in a triangular device. She wanted to fight, fight, should scratch his eyes and break his neck, but none of her muscles didn’t obey at any command, a helplessness that hit her even more than the one before when iron shackles prevented her to fight back.

“A whore like you shouldn’t rest without a good fuck, hmm?” Laughing and filled with greed the torturer played with her sex, quickly lied down between her widely spread legs and fucked her another time with violence. The hate and helpless rage in her yes made him even more excited, and still not fully satisfied he turned her bound boy, that she rested on her knees, that hurt like hell in this bent position from the wounds the needles had left.

Paniesha was almost unconscious from the sharp pain, when she suddenly felt his cock at her ass. With all remaining forces she pressed her muscles to avoid this further humiliation.

Paniesha was still sleeping, when the door was opened and the Centurion entered together with torturer, but a bucket of water purred over her dangling head made her awake quickly.

“Slept enough, cunt. Time for another day of work!”

He kicked in her side when she didn’t show a reaction at once, but it was the other loud noise that made her curious enough to raise her head and to open her eyes. Through the strands of wet hair she watched a couple of cursing and sweating soldiers busied with carrying a huge wooden wheel into the torture chamber.

“Is this all for me, what a honor to see your effort,” she spitted out mocking with hoarse voice that she didn’t recognize by herself, but her heart seem to stop and she felt cold fear running down her spine, when she saw the sharp spikes shimmering in the morning sun… spikes that would too soon shred her back in pieces.

“Your mocking will come to an end rather soon, and replaced by your whimpering screams, slut!” He beat her face with the back of the hand, and nearly her teeth got him at the second blow.

“You seem nearly relaxed a bit too well,” he laughed as he draw quickly back his hand. “But I’m sure, that this little toy will calm you down soon enough.”

She let her head hang down, pretending to be hit stronger than she was. At least they had to free her arms to bring her to this wheel, and even if this was only a very tiny chance, it would be her only one!

Through the dangling hair she watched as he sent the soldiers outside as soon the wheel was placed in the centered of the room and she tried her best to look even weaker as she felt when the torturer started to release the iron. The Centurion watched her grinning leaned against the wheel, maybe five steps away, and like a promise the grip of his sword hung on his right side.

The Amazon held her breath, and as soon as the last shackle were opened she jumped up on her legs and in his direction.

At least she wanted to do so, but even the first of the five steps was too much! Not only that the hours in this bent position had stiffened all of her muscles so much, that she barely could move it, no, as soon as she stood on her feet, a piercing pain was sent from her knee through all of her body – a pain that made her blind at once, and instead of running further she kicked like a broken branch, fell heavily to the floor, tossed and turned in agony, blind from the pain and screaming like a wounded animal, screamed and yelled less because of the pain but more from the disappointment of this lost chance that never has been one, as she knew now, while she felt grabbed and dragged along the floor.

As she got her sight back, she already stood upright – or better hung at her wrists that were fixed again, this time above her head with the shackles connected to the wheel. Each try to stand, to give even a small amount of her weight to her legs to support her hurting wrists, was impossible, was only answered by breathtaking pain from her knees, so she just hung down on her wrists, feeling the hard iron at the bones of her thumbs, and already the spikes on her back.

“Nice try, bitch! Brave, but not very smart!” She felt like crying by hearing this mocking, by the knowledge how hard the previous torture already damaged her body, had stolen her skill and made her a helpless victim even without any shackles. And worse, his voice told her that he had known that she would try this, that he had given her this ‘chance’ as a part of the torture, and indeed it was a worse torture than each pain she experienced until this point. This has really hit her more and deeper than any needle, hurt her more than any rape.

Her hair was grabbed and beaten to the wood behind, she hated the tears running down her face through pressed lids, that her torturers could see now; and she didn’t dare to open her eyes, didn’t want them to show him how successful this last torture had been. But the tears were treacherous enough.

“Oh, our brave warrior is crying like a little child, I just wait that you cry out for your mom!” Their laughers brought back the hate, helped her to regain her. Her mother was dead – but at least she had a honor death in battle, while she was condemned to this hell, humiliated and tortured and ripped off all honor and pride, if she’d give up and surrender to her torturers. Her body stiffened and she swallowed hardly.

“Sorry to disappoint you, bastard, but my knees hurt a bit. Hurry up with this wheel, that I can hung more comfortably!”

Her eyes flashed at him with hate and she was hoping that she could hide the trembling in her hoarse voice.

“Now you know why I love her so much, isn’t she wonderful?” Severinus laughed out loudly, and clapped her cheeks, and after a short moment of astonished anger the Centurion agreed in his laughter.

“Oh yes, you are right. I bet she will even stand this new toy of you without being broken! 100 Dinars?”

Severinus scratched his head and watched her thoughtfully. “A difficult bet, I’m not earning so much like a centurion… 100 Dinars is quite a lot for me and she is really not an easy job.” He turned the wheel slowly backwards and listened to her groans when her body was stretched, her back bent backwards and pressed against the spikes beneath. His rough hand stroked along her breasts, her now emerging rips and her sunken stomach until it reached her sticky pubic hair and the fingers played with her clit.

“And maybe I even would prefer, if she isn’t broken so fast… but you have hit my honor.” His nails scrubbed open a crusted wound at her pussy and the blood reddened his finger cups before he accepted the hand of the Centurion. “Okay… by the blood of those bloody Amazons… 100 Dinars for you if I don’t break her today. But instead of your 100 dinars, I want her to become my slave if I succeed.”

The Centurion raised his brow. “No cross for her?”

Severinus grinned. “There will be more than enough crosses when she has talked and we finally get the whole bunch of those Amazon whores. Maybe later, when I’m tired with her!”

The centurion nodded. “Okay… certainly a good deal for me, no matter who will win.” He laughed louder and shook Panieshas dangling head. “You are the looser in each case, bitch… you and of course you little sister who gives my soldiers so much pleasure all the time while you are suffering!”

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