View Single Post
  #2  
Old 02-16-2022, 05:59 AM
corncobby corncobby is offline
Trusted user EB
 
Join Date: Apr 2011
Posts: 29
Rep Power: 176
corncobby is an unknown quantity at this point
Default

Chapter 1: The Ordeal of Alina (cont.)


The other half-naked slavegirls labouring under the hot sun and the relentless lash of the overseers paid little attention to the torture of their former princess. They had been here for eight years or even longer and there was nothing that shocked them anymore. Alina had been their great hope and inspiration, but that had clearly just been a mirage. Now she was just a tortured and broken girl, just as they were.

The 22-year-old had no idea how many times she was whipped against the post. It seemed to go on forever, the heavy lash thumping relentlessly against her smoldering back, cutting her ragged flesh to the bone. Twice more the draks paused to add boiling salt to her wounds and once they took the red-hot charcoals from the brazier and sizzled them against her flesh for minutes on end. By the time they were done, the whole of Alina’s body from her shoulders to her knees was an angry mass of livid open wounds and terrible bone-deep burns. The draks did not bother to heal them, for there was no danger the girl would die from injuries such as these. Over the course of the next several hours, her body would heal them naturally, unfortunately for the princess an intensely painful process, akin to being stitched together with red-hot wire thread. Her punishment during that time would, of course, be incessant, meaning that as one injury healed, another would be created, leading to a constant cycle of agony from both torture and healing, a hell that Alina had known every single moment for over eight years.


Beluar and Lathrak ripped the iron nails from the girl’s hands and feet, pressing pain sticks into the livid wounds on her back to ensure every second was filled with as much pain as possible. Alina’s legs collapsed beneath her as she was released and the two draks kicked her viciously in the ribs with their heavy hobnailed boots.

“Get on your feet, you lazy whore! You’re a slave, not a princess, bitch.”

As Alina struggled to push herself up, the elves stamped on her wounded hands and ground her fingers into the rough wooden planks of the platform. Beluar smashed a mailed fist against the back of her head while Lathrak kicked her hard in the side. Pinned by her hands, the girl could not move and the two draks continued to beat her as she knelt helplessly on her hands and feet. Finally they stopped beating her long enough for her to struggle to her feet. She stood shakily in front of the two seven-foot elves, naked and helpless as a child. Beluar drew back his fist and thumped her in the stomach, doubling her over in pain. When Alina straightened up, he did it again.

“You’re going to the salt mines today, bitch. Now give me your arms so we can get you ready.”

Alina meekly held out her arms, too weak to resist, and allowed the draks to place a pair of manacles over her wrists. They were sharp and viciously tight, cutting into the skin, and connected by a short chain that permitted only the minimum of movement. Leg manacles on her ankles similarly restricted her movement, and in that painful state the girl was kicked off the platform into the dust beneath. Lithrak kicked her several times before dragging her up by the hair. Then the two draks settled into a constant routine of flogging her with rhino whips, striking her with staves and torturing her with pain sticks. Around her, slavegirls of every age were shuffling through the dust with loads of stones, timber or mortar. They had been working in the construction camp since dawn, many having been raped, whipped or tortured for at least several hours during the night. Guards harassed them constantly with whips and pain sticks, yelling at them to work harder and move faster. They were given no breaks other than the two mealtimes at midday and dusk, and any girl who failed to complete her work fast enough was subject to fearful punishments throughout the day. There were also frequent rapes as the amarok, high on pain energy, took the naked captives aside and filled them with burning ichor.

The scenes were so familiar that Alina did not even look around her as she was hurried through the camp. The salt mines were over five miles away and the 22-year-old knew exactly how she would have to travel there. When they reached the edge of the sprawling camp, they attached a rope from the girl’s hand manacles to the back of a saddled horse, removing the chains from her ankles so she would be able to run. The horse rider, the drak, Vulmon, prepared to move off, only for Lathrak to call a quick halt.

“Wait on there, we’ve not prepared the bitch properly for the journey yet.”

As the dark elf brought his steed to a halt, Lathrak clubbed the young girl to the ground and ordered her to raise her feet in the air.

“Can’t have you running on perfectly healthy feet, can we?” he said, casually stomping on Alina’s flat stomach.

Beluar was already ready with a glowing red-hot poker which he pressed slowly into the heel of her left foot. Alina cried out in agony as the searing metal hissed into her sensitive flesh, but there were a lot more burns to come as the elf systematically branded each inch of her foot before, without any hesitation, doing the same to her right foot. After that, he gave her thirty hard lashes with the rhino whip, cutting angry bloody lines into her smoldering flesh.

“Now you’re ready to run, slave.”

Alina struggled to her feet just as Vulmon nudged the horse forward. She took a dozen agonising steps on her tortured feet before the drak kicked his steed into a trot and forced the girl to run. At her sides Lathrak and Beluar mounted their own horses and prepared to slash at her with rhino whips or prod her with pain sticks to make sure she did not slow her pace.

“If you let yourself fall, bitch, we’ll drag you along the ground like a fucking chariot and when we’re done you’ll get a pair of red-hot pokers up your cunt. You got that?”

Alina was too busy running to answer, so the two draks leaned down and pressed pain sticks into her bare, lacerated body.

“I said, have you got that, bitch?”

“Yes,” the girl replied, in no kind of condition to resist.

Hearing the exchange, Vulmon picked up the pace, forcing the girl to sprint in order to keep up with the running horse. The rope pulled Alina’s arms straight and the manacles bit further into her abraded wrists. The girl stretched her aching legs out and ran at full pelt, ignoring the agony ripping through her feet as she landed on sharp stones and hard dusty ground. In perfect condition, she could have run like this for miles, but with mangled feet, a lacerated and burned back, a parched throat, and the sheer mental and physical exhaustion resulting from so many years of torture, every step was a torment. At her sides Lathrak and Beluar continued to punish her, their desire to hurt the young princess a burning fever inside of them. Alina took in gulpfuls of hot air as she forced herself to keep running. Every few moments she felt herself slipping away, a sudden painful tug on her manacles urging her into another enervating effort. If she had been a normal girl, she might have let herself fall, hopeful that the dragging would bring a painful but merciful death from the horrors of her captivity. But she had been in this position too many times to believe that. They would drag her until her body had been all but flayed of skin. Then they would torture her with red-hot irons, whips, pain sticks, lightning rods and anything else they fancied, and still she would not die.

For Alina, there was nothing she could do each day other than somehow attempt to minimize the punishment she received, or rather try not to maximize it. So as Vulmon forced her to run quicker and quicker over the rough ground, the 22-year-old summoned every last drop of energy and stamina and continued to sprint. For three and a half miles she ran until her legs were like jelly and her cracked ribs were burning like fire. Then suddenly she could go no further. Her knees collapsed beneath her and plummeted to the ground, smashing her face on a rock as she hit the floor. Seeing her fall, Vulmon immediately quickened his pace, sending the horse into a gallop. Alina was dragged helplessly, her naked body bouncing and twisting as she slammed into rocks, gravel, spiky plants, and hard sand. She could feel her skin being lacerated, torn and flayed, but there was nothing she could do but wait for the horror to end.

“You’d better get up, bitch. We’re not going to help you,” mocked Lathrak, galloping alongside her on his horse.

Alina tried to somehow scramble onto her knees, but the horse was going too fast and when she placed her hands on the ground all she succeeded in doing was flaying her palms raw. She screamed as the horror went on and on for more than a mile before finally Vulmon slowed his horse and dismounted. The three draks surrounded the bleeding, tattered young woman and drove their boots hard into her naked body, pounding her ribs, stomach and thighs.

“Fucking lazy whore, now you’re going to have to be punished.”

They kicked her until they heard at least half of her ribs crack and break, then hauled her up by her hair and punched her hard in the guts. They slammed her face into a tree and kicked her legs apart, keeping her manacled arms in front of her. As Beluar got to work kindling a fire to heat up the iron pokers, his two friends pushed pain sticks into the girl’s private parts and struck her randomly with staves and fists. Her flesh was tattered and flayed on both sides of her body, but the three draks knew they did not need to heal her with demon stones yet. Let the bitch suffer hours of agony as her own natural powers did their work.

When a pair of pokers had heated up sufficiently, the creatures held Alina steady against the tree and began to push the first of them slowly into her vagina. The girl let out a scream of agony as the searing poker was forced into her tight hole, the red-hot metal burning into her flesh. Beluar pushed the poker in four inches, then withdrew it slightly, and then forced it a further inch, back again, and then an inch more, drawing out the agony to its maximum. There was no danger of killing her. Alina could have an entire red-hot spit impaled from her anus to her mouth, and frequently did, and it would not lead to death. Beluar pushed and pulled and wrenched and twisted the burning metal in her, while the girl howled with agony and desperation. There were none of her former subjects around her to hear her distress now, so the young girl did not hold back. The agony ripping through every part of her body overwhelmed her and she cried like a baby, screaming at the elves to stop her torment.

Lathrak, Beluar and Vulmon just laughed and tortured her all the more, adding pain sticks and punches to the poker being fdraked ever deeper into her orifice.

“What a weak little whore, you are. I think you need something to quieten you down a bit.”

The dark elves employed a variety of gags to keep their slaves quiet. As well as ordinary wooden bits, there were salt gags, wolf nettle gags, cactus gags, and lighning gags that tortured the women with exaspark energy. The draks chose a wolf nettle now, stuffing a large hard ball of compressed nettles into her mouth and securing it with straps around her face. Wolf nettles were one of the most virulent poisonous plants in the entire Eight Kingdoms, so painful that even just a couple of stings would render even an drak screeching in agony. Few women could take more than an hour or two of a nettle gag before the poison and pain overwhelmed her, but the 22-year-old princess could wear it all day without any relief.
As Lathrak fastened the gag in her mouth and Vulmon pressed pain sticks into her breasts, Beluar continued to pound the red-hot poker into her vagina, puncturing her womb with a full eighteen inches of burning metal. As soon as the poker had begun to cool, sticking inside her with her melted flesh, he took the second poker and inserted it into her anus, even smaller and tighter than her pussy. Alina could only make throaty squeals of agony behind the nettle gag, and the elves laughed at her again as she wept and trembled in anguish. Lathrak lashed a cane across her flayed back as Beluar bent the girl over to force the poker in deeper and Vulmon crushed her bare toes with his hard boots, trying to break a bone or two to make the final run to the salt mine even harder.

Eventually the second poker cooled and the drak ripped the two lengths of metal out of her anus and vagina, tearing a layer of burned flesh along with it. Vulmon re-mounted his horse as his two companions pulled the girl back into position, punching her in the stomach as they tied her manacles to the saddle once more.

“We’ve got another half-mile to the mines, bitch, and now we’ve got some time to make up. Better get ready to run.”

Vulmon spurred his horse on without giving the girl any time to prepare herself. Suddenly Alina was running on her mangled feet with her private parts smoldering with burns and her entire body flayed almost to the bone. The agony of each step was overwhelming, but somehow the girl managed to make it almost to the entrance of the mine before a sharp rock tripped her and sent her sprawling to the ground once more. Vulmon dragged her into the camp and left her bleeding in the dust as he went to greet the mine commandant, Thurrec. Thurrec regarded the bleeding girl with a mixture of contempt and excitement. Her pain energized him physically while her existence filled him with hatred and anger. He took a pain stick and pressed it hard into the girl’s bleeding breasts, watching it light up brightly like a beacon in the night. Alina’s pain energy flooded through him like a drug and his cock stiffened at the prospect of her torture.

For updates: http://subscribestar.adult/darkstories

Last edited by corncobby; 02-16-2022 at 06:02 AM.
Reply With Quote

------ You can help a EXTREME BOARD and get a VIP access ------