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Review This Story || Author: Von Schmiser

Inquisition

Part 22

PART 22

PART 22


With Tashya carried off to the care of the good sisters of the convent, and no one being stretched on the rack or being scourged or flayed, Konrad relaxes with a stroll around the chamber of horrors which he so happily oversees.  His title of Grand Inquisitor bestows upon him absolute power to do whatever he sees fit in achieving the goal of eradicating heresy, and making witches, sorcerers, conjurers or other enemies of the church, scream for nonexistent mercy. While initially he duly followed the dictates of the Holy See in accomplishing this sacred task, early on he discovered he derived extreme sexual arousal watching the most vile and extreme tortures inflicted upon the beautiful and helpless women his venal henchmen found and brought to his grim chamber of horror.

A refreshing meal had been placed by his throne like dais, and he casually enjoyed the succulent food and expensive wine while awaiting his Torture Master to return with the next offering of gratification for the now debauched Inquisitor. The Grand Inquisitor was the ultimate example of the supreme corruption engendered by absolute power.

Gurd had manhandled the weeping and shuddering shell of a broken human in the person of Tashya up to the keeping of the good sisters and unceremoniously cast her on the floor of a room allocated for this purpose.  On the way up from the dungeon he had considered from whence the next quarry should be chosen.  He recalled how much Konrad enjoyed the resumption of  torture of earlier "witches", and decided to return one of these women to the horrors perpetrated there.

Searching in his twisted, vicious, and not very bright brain for one suitable, he settled upon Ilse, the auburn haired peasant girl who had provided such strident screams previously.

Ilse had been nursed by the sisters, her terrible injuries attended to and nursed back to a semblance of normalcy, though she still suffered recurring nightmares of her hideous torment in that chamber of terror.

She had languished in a dank stone cell barely 10 feet square. Her only covering a by now filthy, tattered shift which did little to cover her voluptuous body.  An iron collar about her neck was chained to the manacles joining her wrists, which were in turn chained high on one wall.  Water trickled down the walls and dripped from the overhead.  A shallow trough along the rear wall served as her toilet.  Food, when irregularly given to her, was usually rotten and worm ridden.  Her water, a bucket in a corner.

Day after day she leaned against the cold stone, praying for deliverance from her fate.  Visions of the vile tortures inflicted upon her haunted her nightmares and she prayed to just be left to die if she could not be released.  Her most ghastly fear was to be returned to the chamber of horror and questioned again.  Days turned to weeks, weeks to months.  Every day the inhuman shrieks and screaming coming from below, preyed upon her.  Every time she heard the thumping of boots in the passage outside her dismal cell she trembled and shook in fear that "they" were coming for HER, then tremendous relief when they passed on by and she soon heard some other poor soul being dragged away to that vile place..

This day the clumping boots stopped outside her door.  A key turned in the lock and the door burst open. There stood the beastly animal who had inflicted the barbaric tortures on her.  Ilse shrank back in her chains, her eyes wide in terror, trembling in fear.

"Come along little one, his Grace wishes to continue his conversation with you."

"NOOOO!!!   Please NOO!!"

Ilse cowered against the rear of the cell, her chains rattling as she frantically searched about for a means of escape.  

There was none!!!

Gurd strode across the cell, grabbing her chains he quickly unlocked them from the wall. Leaving them still on her wrists and neck he grasped the end attached to the neck collar and drug her from the cell.

"NOO!  NOOOOO!!!   Please  don't take me back there!!!  Not again!!  Please,,   not again!!!"

"Shut up you filthy whore!  It's time to tell  all and confess"

"But I have told you.   I am NOT at witch.  Please believe me!  It's all a mistake.   Please don't take me back.   Please don't hurt me again! PLEASEEEEE!!!"

Gurd took a short grip on the chain hanging from the neck collar and lashed out with it, striking her across the back.

Ilse screamed and fell to her knees.

Gurd held the chain up close to her neck and yanked her to her feet.  Turning he dragged her from the cell, along the passage, and down steps, down, down.

Ilse was weeping and pleading as she was propelled closer and closer to the infernal cave of terror.

Dragging her by the cruel iron collar about her neck Gurd flung Ilse to the stones in front of Konrad.

"Hmmm,  don't I recognize this Satan's whore?"

"Yes your Grace.  She declined to cooperate on her last visit.  Claims she is innocent."

"Nonsense!   She's a witch!  We shall question her until she recants her allegiance to that Archfiend and confesses she is a witch!"

"I am innocent sir!  I am not a witch.  I told you that.  Please!   Please believe me!!  Don't hurt me again!   I beg you, please!!"

"You don't seem to have learned a thing from your earlier visit.  We will soon see if we can change your mind and you confess your sins."

"Please!  NOO!!   No more!  Please!!"

"She is filthy.  Take her away and remove that rotten cloth, at least dash some water on her."

Gurd ripped the tattered shift from her, baring her bounteous form.   Her previous tortures and the grime could not conceal the sumptuous curvaceous body.

"You three, clean her."

Three of the always present acolytes, grabbed buckets and filled them from a large cask along the wall.   They dashed several buckets of icy water over Ilse and using her torn shift wiped her down, taking especial care in "certain" areas.  When they finished she was by no stretch of the imagination clean, but her superb body was better displayed in all its richness, and after all that's what was important to his Grace.

"I ask you once more woman!   Confess and we need go no further."

"I cannot confess to what is not true!  I am NOT a witch!"

"Get on with it then." 

Gurd unlocked and removed the wrist manacles and detached the chain from the iron collar around Ilse's neck but left the collar in place.  Ilse was shaking and trembling as Gurd grabbed an arm and drug her to a large platform, slanted at an angle to the floor. There was a hump in the center. He threw her onto it, the hump under her lower back. This arched her body. With the assistance of a couple acolytes they stretched her arms up and out to iron shackles near the upper corners.  The same was done to her ankles, spread wide and locked into shackles at the bottom corners.  Each of the four shackles were linked by chain to four small windlasses. 

With Gurd on one and acolytes on the other three the cranks were turned and the chains wound in.  As they were, Ilse's arms and legs were drawn out till she was tightly spread on the planks of the platform, her midsection thrust forward. 

Gurd grinned and ran his brutish hands over Ilse's fine form, poking a finger into the opening between her legs and twisting till she feebly whimpered, then taking both of her generous breasts in his hands, squeezing and pinching, the nipples stiff and hard in the cold air of the chamber. 

"Tighter!,"  The acolytes strained on the cranks and pulled Ilse's arms and legs further and further till she groaned in pain.

Gurd went to the wall were hooks and pegs held the wide variety of whips, flails, paddles, canes, rods and scourges.  He selected a short dog whip, thin and flexible.  He returns to stand next to Ilse and leers down at her magnificent body spread so helpless before him.  Ilse whimpers and shakes.  She knows how terrible Gurd's whippings are.  Her eyes stare in wide eyed terror as she looks to the fearsome weapon about too be used on her quivering body. 

"Oh NOO!  Please!!  NOOOOOOO!

The first lash was delivered with all the ferocity Gurd could manage.  Ilse started screaming even  before the first vicious blow tore into her lower torso.  She strained at her shackles, her body lifting from the surface.  Gurd paused, letting the fiery burn of the quirt spread outward from the growing red mark   Ilse moaned and shuddered as Gurd prepared to smash another searing lash on Ilse's defenseless flesh.  This blow tore into her torso, a little higher this time.  The unbearable pain was worse, and the tormented girl shrieked.   It was true, the pain is worse when torture resumes, even after such a long period since she had been tortured previously.  Each blow burned with such abominable, piercing pain into her flesh she barely had time to recover when the next slash of the whip cut her. 

Gurd was pausing between each malicious blow to allow the pain to swell and spread, the flesh quivering as angry red welts rose in the path of the whip.  Gurd flogged her tender body from below her bountiful breasts to her hips.  He laid off for several seconds, then belabored her thighs, inside and out from knees to crotch.  He spent some 30 minutes scourging her body.  Now he moved to her arms, covering them with a crisscross of stripes.  Ilse screamed and thrashed on her bed of torment as Konrad watched enthralled by her bodies sensual undulations and her screaming.

Gurd paused a bit longer now, watching as Ilse trembled and shuddered. her body twisting and quaking, her cries of agony and pleas for mercy rent the fetid air in the terror filled room. 

He looked to Konrad, then nodded toward Ilse, his eyebrows raised.

Konrad's face took on a look of demonic greed and retuned the nod, "Of course, of course, finish the untouched areas."

Gurd stepped closer to Ilse and leered menacingly, his maniacal gaze on her so far untouched beauteous bosom.

Ilse caught his gaze and started struggling, screaming, 'In God's name, NOOOOOOO!!!!    NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

Lashing out with all his strength Gurd placed a fierce blow across the very center of Ilse's quaking globes.  The whip sunk deep into the silky texture of her breasts, almost disappearing into the resilient flesh, then springing out, a vivid red track left across the seared globes.

Ilse's shrieks of agony bounced from the walls and roof of the room, echoing and re-echoing, as she screamed like an animal being torn to shreds.  Gurd waited for the shrieking to subside just a bit and lashed another fierce blow across her bosom, just below the first.  Ilse rose up on the planks, her frail body shuddering and quaking. The sinews in her arms and legs taut as cables as she fought against the bindings holding her in their grasp. 

Gurd whipped her breasts brutally, pausing between strokes to allow the excruciating agony of the weapons blows to spread.  Ilse writhed and shook as the whip continued it's inhuman torment. Each blow of the vicious crop sinking into the soft flesh of her large breasts.  Her nipples had been struck so many times they were difficult to distinguish from the huge mounds themselves.

Finally Gurd stepped back and watched as Ilse quivered and vibrated in the throes of agony, her screams one long continuous howl of terror, she couldn't stop wailing in the unquenchable agonizing pain.  Blood ran from her wrists where the hard iron of the shackles tore her flesh as she struggled

"Well child?   Do you now wish to confess?  Or shall I have my faithful servant move on to more persuasive methods?"

"I have nothing to confess.   I am innocent!"

"Very well!  You may proceed."

Gurd returned the whip to it's place on the peg.  He ordered an acolyte to help trundle a large iron kettle over beside the whimpering Ilse.  A grate of red coals glowed under it, curls of steam rose from the surface.  He retrieved an iron ladle hanging on the side and dipped it into the bubbling contents.  His eyes shone in malevolent anticipation. 

Konrad was rubbing his hands together in a hand washing movement, his eyes devouring the young woman so the magnificently displayed for his enjoyment.  His tongue darted from his mouth to lick away a bit of spittle at the corner of his lips. He was enjoying the merciless display of barbarism being played out for him.

Gurd reached out with his arm till the ladle was above Ilse's trembling body, and tipped it ever so slightly.  A golden drop of clear, viscous liquid hung on the lip, then the scalding drop of boiling oil fell toward the quaking form of Ilse's body.

Ilse gazed in incredulous horror as Gurd tipped the ladle further and a glistening stream of hot, boiling oil descended toward her.



To Be Continued.................


Review This Story || Author: Von Schmiser
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