Desiree clenched her teeth around the leather gag, more to
stifle her moan as her calves cramped. She wanted to collapse, but she didn't
dare. The bronze "member" was larger than any man she had been with,
and as far up inside her womanhood as possible. Her nether region ached, and
not with desire. Her arms also ached, but she didn't dare move them, either. If
she did, the bronze hook in her backside would drive itself further in. How
long had she been standing like this? All day? An hour? It was impossible to
tell inside the windowless cell.
The man she knew only as His Grace approached closer. He smelled like fresh
lilacs. He never smiled, but Desiree could sense his glee at her situation.
"Now, my dear, if you would only answer my question," His Grace said,
his voice as smooth as a cat's purr.
Desiree tried to curse him around the gag. A murmur escaped the saliva drenched
leather. He didn't really want to hear her answer. Not that she could answer.
He had asked ten times since she had been thrust upon the pole. By what
means did you get such enormous breasts? The answer would do him no good.
It hadn't been her fault! All right, so it was. However, it was an accident,
fueled by naivete' and impatience. Just a simple breast enhancement potion,
brewed when she was but seventeen and in the magic phase of learning to be a
spellsword. But the grimoire was written in code, to prevent people exactly
like her from doing exactly what she did. She should have used only a quarter
of the ingredients. She no longer remembered all the ingredients, nor where to
find a copy of the grimoire.
"Why are you so reticent?" His Grace continued. "Why do you play
this game with me? I mean you no harm."
Liar, Desiree tried to shout. All His Grace meant was harm. He wished
to inflict pain on her. All he wanted was to give his wife the gift of more
feminine breasts, he said. She doubted that. The real reason, she suspected,
was she refused his offer to share his bed.
His Grace gently slid a finger across her wet chin. "If you but answer my
question, I shall set you free. I will return your clothes. I will even feed
you a fine meal, and you can go about your business unharmed." The man
sighed. "Very well. Have it your way. But I shall loosen your tongue
yet." His Grace looked beyond her to the hulking man sitting silently in
the shadows. "Gert!"
"Aye, Your Grace," the man said. She presumed Gert was the actual
torturer, but so far all he had done was move the brazer closer to make her
sweat. His Grace performed all his own work. So far.
"I am going to retire for the evening. After I leave, deprive her of her
tits! And pry out the pleasure parts of her nether regions. Perhaps she will be
more talkative in the morning," His Grace said. With that, he strode from
the cell, and disappeared down the corridor.
Gert slowly stood up. He took his time walking to the brazier, as if he had all
night to carry out his orders. Perhaps he did. Desiree knew enough about
torturers to know they often took hours to perform what stable masters did in a
few moments. The big man fingered several instruments, before selecting what
looked like a butcher knife with a foot long wooden handle. He lifted it to his
face, and smiled. Then, he walked up to Desiree. She clamped her teeth down on
the gag as tight as she could. Her breathing came through her nose in quick
gasps. Involuntarily, she jerked her legs in an attempt to flee. That only
drove the bronze member deeper and pulled the anal hook up higher.
The knife glowed as bright as the sconces on the wall. It drew closer to her
left breast. Then, Gert plunged the knife into the bucket of water.
"I'd soona geld meself than butcher a woman like you!" he snarled.
"I have me limits, and His Grace just done crossed 'em."
Desiree's eyes flew wide. Did she dare believe this? With the member inside
her, she had no control and felt her bladder relieve itself.
Gert stepped close to the startled woman. He leaned next to her. She almost
gagged on the sour odor of a bad tooth.
"If you was a spy or traitor, it'd be diff'rent. But His Grace is only
doin' this because you wouldn't fuck 'im. 'E ain't got no wife! Not above
ground, least wise. Now, lissen 'ere." He lowered his voice. "W'en
the watch calls two, I'm breakin' you out. I knows where the sally port is. You
can get two miles away afore sunrise." Gert threw himself back from her
and snapped, "Oh, sod me! 'E'll know it was me what broke you out."
He blew air through his lips before muttering, "Well, the pay's worse'n
arse, if you ask me. All right. I'm goin' with you."
Desiree closed her eyes and sighed. She wanted to faint, this time in relief.
The winds had changed direction, and not from any actions of her own.
Sometimes, the gods just smiled on those they pitied.
Gert jerked his head toward the corridor behind him. "I'm goin' to get
some ale. I'll tell the guards not to mess with you, and nobody else is to mess
with you." He lowered the member a few inches, and loosened the shackles
around her breasts. Then, he loosened the hook up her backside. "I can't
take 'em all the way out, or the guards will smell somethin's up. But that
oughta make you a bit more comf'ble. I'll fetch you some clothes while I'm
out." He stepped to the cell door. Over his shoulder, he said, "Don't
do nothin' stupid while I'm away, and don't go nowhere's, neither."
Then, he was gone. Desiree stood in the cell. It was no longer as cold as it
had felt, nor quite as dark. Everything ached, from her feet to her legs to her
womanhood, all the way up to her arms and mouth. But for the first time since
she had been stripped naked, she had hope. It came from an odd place. Didn't it
always, she thought.
So, they were going to walk out? After suffering the indignity, and presence,
of the bronze member inside her, and the torment of having to stand in one place
for hours, Desiree wasn't sure her legs would even move. Gert might have to
carry her. Well, he looked like he could carry her, and probably another woman,
without strain. Desiree doubted he was all that good with a sword, but he no
doubt could handle himself with his fists. That should help put some distance
between them and His Grace by sunrise. Then, when they could stop, she would
just have to repay the man for losing his salary and position. After all, she
didn't have these breasts for a lark, and after enduring bronze for hours, it
would be nice to feel warm flesh.
Comments
Post a Comment