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“Let me go, at once, with this crime you won’t get away!”

Still half stunned from the terror, Bernadette de Tranceval fought against the hard grip of the soldiers who dragged her down into the dungeon of her own castle. Minutes before she had been forced to watch the cruel murder of her father and brothers, the slaughter of the few guards in the hall… the banquette to the honor of Simon de Montford and his crusader army, who chose Narbonne as meeting point for their crusade against the Cathars, had changed into a bloodbath.

“Oh my dear Marquise, you should know that a crusade frees the good catholic from all the sins he had done so far.” Laughing Simon de Montford followed his soldiers and the beautiful prisoner downstairs. “and also the Pope himself has ordered, that the land of the Heretics fells in the hand of the brave crusaders who send them to hell!”

“But we are no Cathars, and my family has friends at the court as you know very well!” Furiously she struggled, but of course she had no chance and found herself shackled to the iron bars of a prison cell.

“At least your uncle, Roger de Tranceval, is a well known heretic, and I’m very sure, you will confess rather soon, that you and your family are heretics as well; Master Arnaud has the proper methods to get such confessions.”

Still laughing his hands glided along the skirt of the Marquise, her legs and pressed the cloth against her sex, until a sudden furious kick send him down to the floor.

“Keep your hands away from me, you murderer!”

His angry gaze stopped the laughers of his soldiers, and then without a sign of warning his fist hit her face with brutal force, made her head punch against the bars behind her and made her almost faint.

“You’d better learn quickly that you haven’t anything to command anymore!” He raised her head and Bernadette felt the warm streams of blood running rum her nose and from her mouth while his fingers played with the soft lips and his sword lifted her skirt between the legs, higher and higher until the cold steel touch her sex, revealing her thighs to the greedy looks of the surrounding men.

Forced on her tiptoes and the arms hold by the iron shackles, Bernadette couldn’t do anything, when her precious dress was torn in pieces with some quick moves.

“Do you understand better now?”

Sneering he increased the pressure of the sword against her sex, and she needed all of her remaining self-control to suppress a scream, when the sharp blade hurt her enough to cause a small ripple of blood.

“Does this feel as hard as the cock of the devil you fucked during your satanic rites, you whore?” Grinning the man called Arnaud pressed her breast harder.

“If this is your accuse, you can forget it: I never have been touched by anyone!” Bernadette snarled seethed with rage and shame.

“Never been touched, hmm?” Laughing the Vicomte pulled away the sword to touch her private parts with his fingers. “This is a such important assertion in this matter that I have to …hmm… check this at once.”

His laughter made her shudder even more than the rough fumbling with his fingers at her private parts. “Leave us alone until I have checked this!”

Laughing and cheating the soldiers left the prison, and before the door has closed behind them, Simon de Montford had pulled down his pants.

“For God’s sake, no… you may not do this.” She whispered almost unhearable, knowing too well, that there was nothing that could help her to avoid the coming.

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Posted November 15th, 2004

The rape seemed to be endless; again and again he impaled his helpless victim, replying each sign of resistance with brutal blows and leaving her finally half stunned, trembling in shame and fear, when he finally retreated with a satisfied groans.

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“You may enter now,” Montford called, when he has dressed again. “I have examined her carefully, and I’m quite sure that she has lied.”

Laughing he lied his hands on her blood smeared thighs. “She certainly is not a virgin at all anymore. And I’d guess she would agree now, that the devil himself has taken her virginity!”

Loud laughers filled the room, and filled with shame Bernadette tried to turn away to hide her abused private parts from the greedy gazes.

“Master Arnaud, what’s left on her is yours as usually.”

“Everything?” Arnaud asked with a greedy trembling in his voice.

“Of course, just treat her like each other heretic cunt. Tomorrow she certainly will confess, that she is one!” He left without looking back again, and slowly the meaning of his words finds the way in her paralyzed mind.

“God no, you may not…” She whispered and coughed some blood, but he already has closed the door behind him, and Arnaud didn’t waste much time.

“This is part of my payment.” He took he pearl necklace, while touching her sweat and blood covered face with his other hand. “And the second part of it I will take now.”

Stunned from terror and weakness Bernadette sunk to the floor, when he released her shackles, and went away to fetch a stock like device.

“Do you need some help with her, Arnaud?” The soldiers look down at her, commenting mocking the beautiful body at their feet. With trembling arms she tried to cover her breasts, her sex, but rude hands grabbed her and forced her on her knees.

“That you would like, eh?” Arnaud laughed and put the heavy wood on her shoulders. “As usual, you can have her for a little fee when she has confessed.” The stocks closed around her neck and her wrists.

“But you should bring some more coins with you… she is a noble, so she will cost a little bit more than the common whores!”

Bernadette heard the words without understanding the meaning at this moment; the rough, heavy wood on her shoulders, the shame, the pain in her sex, filled her mind completely, and she only groaned lowly, when she was pulled upwards until she stood on her tiptoes, the torso bent backwards, more hanging in the stock than standing on her trembling legs.

“I hope, she will confess quick enough, that you leave something worth to fuck!” The guard gave her a clap, and turned to the door with a regretting last look at her tender thighs.

Arnaud ignored the leaving guards, already fully concentrated to tear away the sad remains of her dress.

“You are my first noble, little Marquise, and I’m sure I will enjoy you a lot!”

“Who is this? Another heretic?”

The voice of the torturer finally ended Bernadette’s light, troubled sleeper, brought her back to the cruel reality and sent shivers on her skin. Her wrists hurt as did her arms, that were forced in this uncomfortable position for so many hours, and her neck and shoulders felt wounded and rubbed by the heavy wood resting on it.

Her face felt swollen, but worst was the foul taste in her mouth, the reminder at the worst humiliation she had to endure since her capture, when she finally had given up each resistance under the cruel torture. Piercing pains from her injured vagina, dried blood in her face from the beatings and from her scalp, where she had ripped strands from her hair, as she winced in the agonizing pain, suspended on her braid, while he massaged her most sensible parts with this knotted roped, until she finally beseeched him to stop, promised to do anything he wanted from her, if only this pain would end.

“Well… she is a maid and in her chambers Lord Montford himself found some heretic writings.” The soldier laughed lowly. “And of course, no one will tell you loudly, that she refused to spend the night in the bed of our beloved leader, but instead almost scratched his eyes, when he tried to …hmm… persuade her.”

Arnaud laughed out loudly. “Such a stupid cunt…and now he wants her to scream here instead of his bed, I assume?”

“He thinks it would be a good idea to have an accuse from a confessing heretic, before we start to torture the Marquise herself… politics, you know.”

“This kind of politics I really like… it will not last long… one, two hours and she will tell whatever he wants to hear from her.” He lifts the face of the girl who stared at him with fearfully widened eyes. “Or do you confess your sins right now already?”

“I…I have done nothing wrong, I…”

Her voice ended in a low scream, when Arnold pulled at the rope, and her arms were pulled upwards behind her back, forcing her body upwards, until she stood on her trembling legs.

God, she knew this voice… it was Louise, a maiden in her castle since one year or two, and now she watched filled with terror, how the girl was pulled upwards further inch for inch, the cracking of her stretched shoulders seem to echo in the large dungeon, even over tuned her screams, her begging, her desperate affirmations of her innocence. Finally her feet left the ground, her toes dangled some inches above the dirty ground, and shrill shrieks filled the room, while her body slowly twisted and swung, her arms unnaturally twisted on her back.

“God, please, you are breaking my arms, stop it please!”

The torturer only laughed, fixed the rope and started to rip off her clothes, not without pulling at her body and punching and squeezing the big, but firm breasts.

“You don’t need you arms at the stake… confess and it will be over soon!” He gave her a stronger push, and again her body started to swing, increasing the pain on her overstretched shoulders, then he stopped the swinging with a rude grip in her pubic hair, causing another yelling scream.

“Stop this, you pervert bastard. You know she is innocent… what will she do with heretics writings? She cannot even read!” Shocked by this terror, Bernadette had shouted it loudly, but now, when the torturer turned to her, she regretted it at once.

“Ah, our Marquise has finished her sleep finally!” He let his victim go, and advanced Bernadette’s cell. “Are you jealous? Shall I care about you right now?” Trembling in fear, Bernadette watched him opening her cell; then he grabbed her braid and pulled her towards the suspended Louise, who still screamed and whimpered in pain.

“Look at her closely… and watch how I make her confess. Then I will ask you some easy questions.” Laughing he forced her into a narrow man cage.

“And if you need to shit, do it now… I hate if my dungeon is spoiled by shit.” Bernadette’s body stiffened, when she felt his fingers in her anus, but her fury answer was over tuned by a louder scream of the suspended girl.

“Let me down here, please, I beg you, I…”

“Shut up cunt… maids have to be silent, when a I talk to the Marquise, right, milady?” He twisted the cage that Bernadette has to watch the struggling girl. “Watch and decide by yourself, if you want to take her place later. And you can be quite sure, that a noblewoman like you will even increase my efforts to get what I want!”

Laughing about her obvious terror, he grabbed a branding iron and started to heat it in the flames in front of her eyes.

“And now, little Lady? Do you pray now, that she resists, so that I can enjoy to torture her for a long time?”

He advanced with glowing iron near enough, that Bernadette felt the heat almost painfully.

“You…you…” The terror took her voice, with wide-open eyes she stared at the iron and tried to retreat as far the narrow cage allowed.

“Tell me, Marquise… would you take this for your maiden?”

“God no, please, go away with it!”

“As you wish, my lady, then I will use it on her – first!” Laughing he went away from Bernadette who felt ashamed for her relief. Without any visible effort Arnaud grabbed the ankle of the dangling girl and pressed the hot iron on her bare sole. Her bloodcurdling scream filled the room, as did the revolting smell of burnt flesh that almost made her sick, when it reached her nose.

“…And now I ask you again,” quietly the torturer took the other leg of the poor girl, who was bathed in sweat now. “Are you one of those heretics?”

“God, NOOO! Please… God is my witness, that I’m a good catholic, I…”

Again the sizzling sound of burnt flesh came first, followed by an almost inhuman scream, when he pressed the iron on her sole and left it there, until it was to cold to produce any vapor anymore.

He threw it away and fetched another iron out of the coals.

“This is made for burning you deep inside your more delicate parts, do you want to taste it?”

“God… no…I swear that I’m innocent… please…” Louise’s hoarse entreaty was barely audible, ended in a desperate sobbing, when he advanced her anus with the glowing tip of the iron.

“Now?” He touches the skin, one, two times, and then slowly penetrated her anus that vanished in a cloud of dark vapor. Louise’s shrill shrieks ended in a long whimper.

Finally Bernadette could close her eyes that were like magically by the terror in front of her but she easily heard, the ‘confession’ of the broken girl.

“Yes, yes. I’m heretic, whatever you want… don’t hurt me anymore… please…”

Cold rage filled her heart listening to this brutally forced wrong confession that was the death sentence for Louise, as she knew to well.

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Posted December 27th, 2004

“… and how far are you with this little cunt?” Bernadette shuddered when she heard the voice of Simon de Montford. She hadn’t noticed his arrival, but now he stood near the suspended girl.

“She has ‘confessed’ her heresy already, but she still cannot remember her evil teachers!” Rudely he pulled at the girl’s hip, causing another hoarse scream that overturned the cracking from her shoulders.

“In Gods name, please, no…” Louise whimpered and sobbed. “I don’t know what you want to hear, please…” Her voice ended in low sobbing.

“I bet, she will remember, when she feels something solid between her legs!” Montford pointed to a spiked pole. “Let her ride this, it will feel like the devil’s cock that she felt during the dark rituals!” Both men laughed out loudly, and the torturer placed the cruel device between the legs of the girl, who started to scream and yell again, when she felt the spikes at her thighs and at her sex, while Arnaud fixed her legs in the iron shackles.

“Stop this, you pervert animals!” Bernadette shouted it out loudly, but then immediately wished to be invisible, when Montford looked at her with a sadistic grin.

“Shut up and watch… as soon as she has talked, it will be your turn!”

“You know she is innocent, let her go!”

Montford only laughed. “Innocent? Didn’t you listen to her confession?” He grinned even more. “I’m really curious what you will confess in some hours! You should use the time to think something up, that could make me content enough to stop your torture then!”

“I’m not a maiden, I’m Marquise de Tranceval!” She tried to answer as calmly as possible. “You will never make me soil the honor of my family!”

He just laughed derisively. “Pain doesn’t make any difference between master and servant, Marquise… you will learn this lesson very soon!”

“No… you may not do this… I have confessed everything… what else do you want from me?” The desperate entreaties made him turn back to the suspended girl and to Arnaud, who had meanwhile fixed her legs widely spread.

“It was the Marquis and his daughter who introduced you to the Cathar heresy, right?” He grabbed her hip and pushed her deeper into the spikes.

“YEEEEEHHHH!… no, no… they are good people, they… YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEH!”

Her howling scream echoed from the walls of the dungeon, when he pushed her deeper, ignoring the sharp cracks from her overstretched shoulders. The pole with the spikes rudely penetrated her vagina, blood dropped down to the floor below.

Bernadette had closed her eyes, but the screams of the tortured maiden filled her with unspeakable horror, and almost even more the laughing and joking of the two men who enjoyed this unbelievable torture.

“Yes… yes… whatever you want… it was the Marquis…!”

“…and his daughter here?” A short hesitation to take breath was enough reason to pull her upwards some inches and let her fall down again.

“YEEEEESSS… aaahhh… yes, his daughter was even more heretic, stop it, I beg you, stop it!”

“And you will repeat this, when you are asked in front of your judges?”

“Yes, yes… everything… I will do everything, but don’t hurt my anymore, please…” Her last words were barely audible, then her head sunk down as she finally fainted.

“This is enough, I think… now we can take care of our lovely Marquise.”

Bernadette opened her eyes, when she heard the steps advance. Her look fell on the greedily grinning men, on the poor Louise, whose wincing limbs showed her, that she still was alive. The marquise tried to straighten her tired body, tried to hide her fear, but her heart certainly beat loud enough that it even overturned the chattering teeth.

“Any preferences, Milord?” Simon de Montford sized her up and licked his lips.

“Hmm, I’m sure the Marquise will look great on the rack, and certainly she will be pleased to lie during our certainly rather interesting conversation.”

Laughing Arnauld grabbed her arms and pulled the Marquise rudely to the wooden table, passing the lowly sobbing Louise who still dangled from the ceiling impaled by this cruel pale.
“By our Lord, why don’t you put her out of her misery?”

Montford laughed. “Don’t bother about a maiden, Marquise. You have your own problems now!” Invitingly he pointed to the rack. “Here you will grow some inches, if you don’t confess your heresy in time.”

“You know that I’m as innocent as this poor girl, and whatever you are going to do to me, I will not make any wrong confession!”

“Great words – I’m curious how long you have to learn the true meaning of the word ‘pain’!” Laughing he grabbed her legs and laid her down on the old wood. Quickly Arnaud fastened finger thick ropes at her wrists and ankles, while Montford held her down, easily suppressing her weak resistance with his weight and his strong hands.

“This is your last chance to talk, before the torture will start!” Bernadette just turned her head away from him as an answer and pressed her lips, when the wheel of the rack was turned the first time with a loud squealing.

First the nooses at her wrists moved until stopped by the bones of her hand, tightened to the limits given by her petite wrists and stretched her arms until her shoulders had reached the height of her ears. Then slowly her back was pulled towards the wheel, inch for inch over the rough wood whose tiny teeth bitted her soft skin.

Bernadette groaned lowly, her legs were stretched now, too, and the rope tightened at the ankles, squeezing flesh and tendons painfully, while she instinctively tried to avoid a further spreading of her thighs. Of course this was a useless effort; with the following turns of the wheel her legs were spread further and further with merciless force and finally her body was stretched out completely, stretched enough that even breathing became difficult.
But Arnaud didn’t stop, turned the wheel a bit further, beyond each natural limit that her shoulders had ever experienced before. A sharp pain ran through her arms from shoulders to wrists like glowing needles, a pain she never could imagine, and her loud screams echoed from the walls. She didn’t feel the fumbling fingers at her exposed vagina, not the cold sweat that covered her skin, didn’t hear the mocking and laughing of her tormentors; only the sound of the wheel, when it was turned more and more and the cracking of the overstretched shoulders near her ears.

Now the pain run downwards along her spine; hips, knees and elbows were new sources, from where a glowing liquid seemed to be filled in her veins. She screamed and screamed, filled with panic that she would been torn in pieces here on this devilish rack, when she heard louder and more dangerous cracking sounds from her shoulders, that protested against this unnatural stretching with new waves of agonizing pain.

Finally her screams ended in a suffocated coughing and choking, when her lungs were empty, her chest stretched too much to inhale any air. Then they released the tension a bit, just enough to allow some hectic breathes.

“Do you confess now?” Again she heard the wheel turn, tried to tense her muscles to fight the stretching in a useless effort, that made her calves and biceps move convulsively in spasms.
“No, ever!” She wanted to shout it out loudly, but it became nothing but a croaking sound that ended in another howling scream, when another flash of pain run through her body, as her wrist broke with a sharp cracking sound.

“Don’t kill her, better use the thumbscrews now.” Bernadette was almost fainted, her numb fingers didn’t feel much, when the iron of the screws enclosed them, but then the screws were tightened, and squeezed her fingers with merciless force, until the pressure drove the blood from below her nails and the first bones of the finger joints were mashed between the iron plates of the thumbscrews.

“STOP, I confess, everything…. stop…please stop!” Forgotten was each will of resistance in this moment of unbearable pain; despite of the stretching that should make each movement impossible, her buttocks raised some inches from the wood and slapped back on it several times, while her back arched like a bow.

“What do you want to confess?”

“I…” she hesitated, searching for anything she could tell them to stop the pain, hesitated too long, and he increased the pressure on her fingers even more, broke more of the tiny bones in her fingers like dry branches.

“God, stop… whatever you want… I’m a heretic, a Cathar…”

With a rest of remaining reason she tried to find answers to all his strange questions, answers that made him content enough that he smiled amused while he hold her face and looked in her tear-stained eyes.

“… well and during those dark rituals you certainly were fucked by your father, right?” She didn’t remember what she had said about rituals, but this accusation revived her resistance regardless of all the pain that filled her whole body.

“No, no… not my father, he was a good…” With a metallic sound some pliers were beaten on the thumbscrews, the smashed bones between them.

“Don’t tell me lies, heretic bitch, or do you need to remember the feeling of your fathers cock between your legs?”

Arnaud reached him a pear, and Simon de Montford gloated over her panic and terror, when he demonstrated her the use of this device.

“I’m quite sure this will bring back your memory, do I have to use it?”

“Please no. I confess everything, but let my father rest in piece…”

Ignoring her entreaties, he forced the cold metal between her labia.

“Was it like this? Or even wider?” He turned the screw and the pear opened inside of her sex, squeezing the soft flesh, pressing against the most sensible nerves. Bernadette got deaf and blind from the pain, couldn’t hear the questions and couldn’t see the tongs that now pressed her nipples, the flesh of her belly, her breasts. Several times she fainted, always quickly revived by buckets of cold water.

“Confess now, then it is over!” She wanted to deny, but only spitted a swell of blood from her lips and tongue that she had bitten without noticing it before.

“Did it feel like this?” The tongs pressed her clit brutally, causing another hoarse scream. “Or has it been hotter? Shall we heat the pear a bit?”

“God NO. Forgive me, father…yes, he… he took me during the rituals…”

“Took? You mean he fucked you like hell, right?” The tongs were pressed harder, her clit squeezed between tongs and pear below.

She closed her eyes and sobbed lowly, her body dried out so much, that she had no tear left.

“Yes, he … fucked me…please, let me die now.”

Simon giggled, when he retreated from the beaten girl on the rack. “No, not yet. You first have to repeat your confession. Are you sure you remember it, when you are asked in front of witnesses? If not….” She shuddered, knew very well, that then the torture would be continued, maybe even worse than this one, even if she couldn’t imagine anything worse.

“Yes,” the Marquise breathed sobbingly, “yes, I will remember it…”

“Cover those bitches a bit, I’m not sure if the old man’s heart can stand so much naked flesh!” The laughing of Simon de Montford and his torturer brought her back. She bitted on a kind of metallic tongue, part of a metallic bridle, whose sharp needles touched the skin of face. Strong chains hold her in the sitting position, tied her hands, her legs were hold by the wooden stocks.
Arnaud just tore the remains of Louise’s skirt in twig pieces and threw it on the hip of the bound girls.

“We soon have a guest here, who wants to hear your confessions! Don’t say anything wrong…” He squeezed Louise’s nipple between thumb and index finger, “…or you will regret this!”
Louise rebelled against the grip, pulled at the chain, that hold her arms as well as Bernadette’s bridle, whose needles now pricked her face, scratched along the skin, but the tongue effectively suppressed her screams, when she desperately tried to follow the erratic moves of the bridle with her head.

So she didn’t notice the entrance of the towns Major who was accompanied by Simon de Montford into the dungeon and led to the prisoners.

“For God’s sake, this is the Marquise?” He had needed some time to recognize her, almost nude and with the traces of the beatings in her face below the bridle. Bernadette felt her cheeks glowing, feeling the look of the mayor on her bare breasts, her legs revealed to the eyes of the old man, who she knows since she was a little child.

“Yes, indeed … and she will tell you some shocking news later. But first to this one… a maiden of the noble family who had heretics writings in her chamber.”

“What…what have you done to her?” His shocked eyes gazed on her smashed fingers, the swollen wrist of her broken hand.

“Not much… it was not necessary to give her a hard torture, she confessed rather early, even before we needed to use the branding irons…. But as I said, first to this one.”

He pointed to the girl. “Look at the mayor and tell him about your sins.”

Louise swallowed hardly and croaked with hoarse voice “Please, give me some water, milord.”

“Water?” Arnaud let the whip slap against her bare breasts. She howled out loudly, and Bernadette screamed in her metal gag, when the sudden move from Louise made the bridle’s needles scratch along her face.

“Water, bitch? You will get enough to drink later, but now repeat your confession first!” With each word the whip hit her chest, belly and breasts. “And don’t forget anything!”
She repeated her confession, speaking haltingly, when she accused the Marquise and her family.

“Now you understand, why we had to care about Marquis de Tranceval and his daughter, right?”

“The Marquis a heretic? I cannot believe it.”

“We also were surprised, but you will be convinced, when the Marquise has repeated her confession, too. But first give the maiden her sign, her guilt is doubtless.”
Quickly Arnaud took a glowing iron from the coals, hold her head in a strong grip, and pressed the ‚H‘ for heretic on her forehead. The smell of burnt flesh filled the room, when her screams ended and she hung fainted in her chains.

“Now it’s your turn, Marquise.” Arnaud removed the bridle and laid his heavy hands on her trembling shoulders. “You’d better repeat everything exactly like you told us before.”

Bernadette swallowed hardly, for a moment she wanted to resist, but then they would torture her again, maybe even worse than before, and she knew she could not stand such a torture anymore. Haltingly she started to speak, forced to look at the mayor during her confession, that she now begun to understood in detail, her own words made her cheeks glow, and she was relieved when it was finally over and she was allowed to turn her head away.

“You have heard it, my dear Mayor.” Simon de Montford laid a hand on his shoulders. “Certainly you agree, that only another heretic can have any doubt on the guilt of the Marquis and his family.”

The mayor nodded and murmured a low consent. “Unfortunately the Marquis himself flew from the punishment and sought his own dead when we tried to arrest him. So his soul is condemned forever – .he will be buried on unholy ground outside the city walls. But his daughter’s soul can be saved… after her confession the flames of the stake will save her soul from eternal doom.”
This was no thread anymore for Bernadette, she only hoped that she could die soon, flee from this misery, even if she had to go through the flames for this.
“And you, as the mayor of the city, you will have the honor to mark this heretic with your own hands!”

Grinning Arnaud reached him the grip of reheated branding iron.

“Me? I…I’m no henchman, I cannot do this!”

“Come on, and show me, that the heretic thoughts have not penetrated the minds of more people in this town… it is easy, Arnaud will hold her, and you just press the glowing end of the iron on her forehead for some seconds.”

The Mayor was not stupid enough to ignore the barely hidden thread and took the iron with trembling hands. He avoided Bernadette’s imploring eyes, and pressed the iron on her forehead, tried to ignore the bloodcurdling screams, when skin and flesh were burnt away by the glowing heat of the iron.

“Well done, Mayor. Now you can announce that the two heretics will be burnt tomorrow at noon on the marketplace. I expect that each good catholic citizen of this town will be present and pray for the souls of those sinners!”

“I think, we should make sure, that our Marquise doesn’t say anything wrong tomorrow in front of all the citizens.”

Simon de Montford looked at the fainted girl, now with the heretic mark glowing on her forehead.

“Shall I break her neck? The devil sometimes does this with his favorite witches, so that her souls cannot be cleaned by the flames.” He grinned cynically when he made the neck-breaking gesture with his hands.

“And miss the sight of the lovely Marquise dancing and squirming in the flames?” Montford laughed. “Not for all gold of the world I want to miss this. Just pull out her tongue, this will be prevent her good enough from saying anything I don’t want to hear.”

“As you wish milord… and tonight?”

Montford made a depreciative gesture. “As usual… she has to earn the money for the stake as each other heretic; I’m quite sure that not few of my brave soldiers will pay double of the usual price to fuck a real Marquise!”

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