Interrogation of an Amazon

The following totally fictitious writings of M Coolham are intended for the sole readership of those of LEGAL AGE. The ADULT ONLY material contained within is also for personal use only where local standards permit scenes of violence, torture and sex. Please do not read further if any of these subjects offend, or if you are not of legal age.

This is a work of fiction. The author does not condone violence of any sort.

The following is under Copyright and is for your sole enjoyment. Your cooperation in not using the material in any other application without the express permission of the author is requested. Thank you.

Interrogation of an Amazon

CHAPTER SIX

Ennuta

Glaina fought against the lasso, her arms trapped against her body. Chrim was upon her in seconds pinning her to the ground. Kicking out her legs she threw him off, rolled sideways, and then onto her feet. Before the Amazon could run five steps the other members of the group arrived and surrounded her. With her arms immobile she was unable to fight and they captured her easily. Pilo held the woman from behind, his forearm around her throat, her hair flying in his face, her torso pressed against him. Jemius removed her weapons and threw them to the ground.

"Leave me alone you bastards," she screamed, her emerald eyes glaring at the four breathless onlookers. Pilo could feel her wrestling the lasso.

"You're not going anywhere," said Chrim. "We've traveled a long way to find you".

"I don't want her raising the alarm," said Jemius between deep breaths. "There might be others around. We need to gag her".

Chrim searched in his uniform, found a cloth, and passed the rag to Jemius. The leader approached the captured woman and grabbed a fistful of her thick copper-coloured hair. He yanked back her head simultaneously pushing the gag against her full lips.

"NNNNGGHHHH".

"Open your mouth bitch," he snarled.

She fought, her mouth remaining closed.

Chrim took Glaina's sword and drove the hilt into her belly winding the struggling warrior. Her lips parted a fraction and Jemius took the opportunity, forcing the rag into her mouth. She pushed against the cloth with her tongue but it was in too deep. While Pilo held his palm across her face, Jemius cut a piece of rope from the end of the lasso and wrapped it around her head, knotting it tight, snagging her hair painfully in the rope.

"Nice job," said Jemius. "Now her arms".

The soldiers threw Glaina to the ground chest down, her breasts flattening inside her jerkin. She struggled against the gang but five onto one was too many. They tied her hands behind her back and bound her elbows together. The men turned their prisoner onto her back and stood up to admire their handiwork. With her arms forced back the power of her shoulders was amplified, the sinews under her bronzed skin working as she struggled against the bondage. Her triceps stood proud, rock hard with the exertion. Her breasts thrust forward, straining against the front of her laced jerkin.

"On your feet."

Using the lasso they hauled her up.

"Blindfold her," said Jemius.

Pilo tore a sleeve from his shirt and wrapped it around Glaina's eyes, tying the material tight behind her head. The Amazon's world was plunged into darkness.

"You're coming with us," said Jemius. "We have some questions for you". He passed the lasso to Chrim. "You have the honor".

The men started the journey back to the Lynx, Chrim pulling their leashed trophy like a dog.

* * *

Four hours later Sempha arrived at the caves by the crooked sycamore tree. Very few people knew this place; she felt safe and allowed herself to relax a little. Looking around she saw no sign of her bodyguard but she was not worried. There were still a couple of hours left before their agreed rendezvous time. Just to the south of the caves there was a mound of earth hidden amongst some trees, a good vantage point from which to survey the surrounding area. The Princess went to sit on the hillock and soak up the late afternoon sun.

Her stalker watched and waited. Patience was his byword.

* * *

Haalet's captors arrived back at their camp. They tied the Prince to a post in full view of their assembled comrades. The troop leader walked up to him.

"My name is Lema," she said. "I need some information. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. You choose".

The frightened man gulped.

"How old are you?" asked Lema.

"Twenty-eight," he replied.

"Old enough to know better than enter Lumana uninvited," she said.

* * *

The rendezvous time approached. While Jemius's group was setting up camp, binding Glaina to a sturdy elm for the night, Sempha was sitting with her legs pulled up under her chin, her arms folded across her knees. She was enjoying the dramatic blood-red sunset. The Princess wanted to see the sun slip below the horizon before entering one of the caves to wait for her bodyguard. Fireflies had appeared sparking out their mating calls. Mosquitoes, too, had come out and Sempha felt herself being bitten.

Just as she got up to leave, Sempha felt a nasty sting on her thigh. She looked down to see what type of insect had inflicted such a vicious bite. But rather than a fly, to her horror she saw a small feather dart sticking out of her leg. Before she could react, another pierced her shoulder. The Princess panicked and tried to stand but her leg would not hold her. Her sword arm had been paralyzed. She collapsed on the earth losing consciousness fast. She tried to call out but could not link her mouth to her thoughts. The stricken woman felt her eyelids growing heavy. Visions flashed through her mind; anger at herself for being so careless and concern that Glaina might not come in time.

The poison overwhelmed her body and a few seconds later she passed out.

An owl hooted three times. Rufus heard the call and knew it was no owl. The same sound again, coming from the north. He and his men walked towards the direction of the calls.

* * *

Amphora had been removed from the rack, washed, and fed as instructed. For the dungeon master it was important to keep the woman in good condition - as good as was possible given the nature of the ordeals being inflicted upon her. Now that he was free to experiment upon her in any way he wished, he wanted this most precious subject to last. For him the pleasure was doubled if his victims remained feisty and able to resist. He liked a challenge; the more they fought the greater the excitement.

The Amazon had been chained to the floor, her back rubbing against the rough stone. Despite the appalling ache in her joints, the burning pain in her shoulder, and the rawness of her buttocks and the back of her body, she had slept deeply. The racking had exhausted her. Just as the dungeon master desired her strong, she, too, wanted to replenish her resources. She was determined to remain silent no matter what horrors the brutes were to impose on her.

The prisoner was awakened by a sharp kick to her branded shoulder. She came round instantly and reached to protect her wound. But they had chained her limbs to manacles either side of her. She was unable to protect herself.

"Wake up bitch," said a woman's voice. "It's my turn".

While Amphora had slept the dungeon master had presided over the drawing of lots to decide the sequence in which his accomplices were to question the Amazon. Ennuta was to go first. The ugly woman had been thrilled. All her life she had resented the beauty gifted to others. Now in her forty-third year a profound bitterness was etched into her heart. It was her deep hatred of attractive women that had brought her to the attention of the dungeon master and that had resulted in an invitation to join his ghoulish band.

The warrior opened her eyes and saw all five of her tormentors standing over her.

"You know where to take her," said Ennuta.

It was a tradition that the person leading the interrogation session gave the instructions. On this day, Ennuta was the dungeon mistress.

Clen, Puno, and Breet joined the dungeon master in releasing the Amazon's arms, sitting her up, and retying them behind her back. Only when she was fully secure did they untie her legs. Two of the men grabbed fistfuls of her hair and hauled the bound woman to her feet, the other two gripping her arms. Considering the dreadful nature of the treatment already metered out to her, Amphora felt surprisingly fresh. She struggled against the ropes holding her wrists and wrestled with the men. The dungeon master stood behind her and put his arm around her throat. She thrashed against him but her exertion was futile. He held her tight. Ennuta stood back watching her victim's gorgeous breasts swaying violently. The older woman's heart began to quicken. She had waited a long time for this moment and was going to enjoy every moment of it – she had promised herself that she would take it nice and slow.

The four men pulled their victim towards a wooden post sticking up through the flagstones. The post was thick oak, a little over five feet tall and nearly two feet in diameter, the top cut off cleanly leaving a smooth surface. The area around the post was clear of equipment bar three manacles driven into the dungeon floor, two at each side and one eighteen inches behind the oak.

Ennuta watched while the gang threw Amphora against the post. The rough wood aggravated the damaged skin on her back. The dungeon master had executed this maneuver many times before and quickly positioned himself behind the post. He reached across the front of the bucking warrior pinning her to the wood, his forearm hard against her neck constricting her breathing.

The other three men untied the Amazon's wrists and pulled her arms behind the post, her muscles pronounced as she resisted her aggressors. The dungeon master tightened his grip and she gasped, her eyes widening as she fought for breath. He could see that her resistance was causing difficulty for his accomplices. Using his other arm the ogre prodded the weeping sore on her right shoulder. Amphora shrieked, the momentary distraction allowing the three men to finally knot her wrists together. She was tied securely against the oak but, purposely, not too tight.

The four men stood in front of the warrior and leered. Their desire for her muscled body was stronger than ever. Ennuta joined them.

"She's all yours," said the dungeon master.

Ennuta positioned herself in front of the prisoner keeping a safe distance back, all too aware that the Amazon's legs were still free. The bound woman struggled against the cords holding her wrists, each movement driving small splinters into the cuts that ran down the back of her body. Amphora's bouncing breasts increasingly excited Ennuta.

At six foot, the victim was considerably taller than her female tormentor. To Ennuta this was unacceptable.

"Kneel," said Ennuta.

The women glared at each other, small dark eyes locked in combat with catlike amber.

"I said kneel," snarled Ennuta through gritted teeth.

"Never," hissed the prisoner.

Ennuta clicked her fingers. The four men went to stand behind the warrior, two on each side.

"I said – KNEEL".

The Amazon struggled furiously, the men watching her fists balling and unballing, her triceps taut as she worked against the ropes.

The smaller woman clicked her fingers again. The men reached down and grabbed Amphora's ankles pulling them out from under her. The warrior fell to the ground, her knees smashing against the stone floor.

"Aaarrrgghhh".

Before she could regain her footing the men forced her ankles together and tied them to the manacle behind the post. They pulled her thighs apart and tied her knees to the manacles on either side of the post. When they had finished the Amazon was helpless, her legs wide, her arms behind the post, her feet immobile.

Ennuta walked up to Amphora and stood inches from her prisoner's torso. Now the aggressor was an inch taller than her victim. The ugly woman grinned broadly.

The difference between the two women was striking. Whereas Amphora was tall and muscular, Ennuta was short and scrawny. The Amazon's hair was thick and shiny against her bronze skin while the torturer's lay lank and dull amplifying her pale complexion. The warrior had a stunning face, feline eyes, full lips, and perfect teeth; the dungeon mistress had always been plain, with small eyes set close together, thin lips, and crooked teeth. Amphora had generous provocative breasts. Her interrogator was flat-chested and featureless. Ennuta had come to despise beautiful women, envy building up inside her layer upon layer. She had tortured lovely females on other occasions but none of her previous subjects could challenge the manifestation of beauty that was now tied and at her mercy. Years of simmering frustration started to boil.

Ennuta watched while Amphora struggled, her muscled thighs straining against the ropes that held her legs three feet apart, her breasts wobbling as she fought against her bondage.

"Where's Sempha?" said Ennuta calmly.

Amphora remained impassive her heart racing. The warrior could sense the venom lurking just beneath the surface in the woman standing before her.

"You survived the rack but you won't survive me," said Ennuta, her hands clasped behind her back. "Where will we find the Princess?"

Silence.

Ennuta lashed out, slapping the Amazon's cheek with the back of her hand driving her captive's head to one side.

Amphora turned back to face the woman.

"What's it like being pig ugly?" said Amphora, a smirk across her lips.

Ennuta flushed, her victim's remark fuelling her anger.

"You'll know soon enough," replied Ennuta. "By the time we've finished you'll be unrecognizable. Sure, men will still stare at you – but with horror, not desire".

Before Amphora could reply, Ennuta drove her knee into the Amazon's stomach. The warrior was ready, her lightening reflexes tensing her abdominal muscles to repel the blow.

Ennuta took a step forward and studied Amphora's left breast enjoying it quiver as the prisoner's chest rose and fell. Ennuta reached out and held the succulent globe, letting its weight sit in her palm. The thin woman had small hands so the flesh of the Amazon's breast escaped either side of her palm. She brought up her other hand and cupped the soft orb as if she was about to drink from it. She massaged the tit all over, pulling at the prominent brown nipple, running her fingertips around and around the pebbly aureole. She appreciated the sheer size of the breast sitting in her little hands.

The thin woman repeated the exercise with the warrior's right globe. The Amazon looked away. For Amphora, the humiliation of being fondled in this way ate away at her. That her legs were held apart was worse. She had never felt so naked – so exposed – so completely vulnerable.

Ennuta released Amphora's right breast and marveled at the way it immediately returned to its original position, firm and proud. The dungeon mistress turned her attention back to the Amazon's left orb. Again she held it with both hands. This time, though, rather than stroking and enjoying the young flesh, she scratched at the bronze skin with her long dirty fingernails, gouging her thumbs into the Amazon's unprotected tit. The warrior winced but held back a cry. The torturer moved to the right breast, hanging as if inviting abuse. For ten minutes Ennuta scraped and groped her victim's chest, squeezing the firm flesh hard between her palms.

For Amphora, the pain from the aggressors' sharp nails digging into her sensitive flesh was acute but she endured the discomfort and humiliation in silence.

She pulled her hands away and studied the scratches that now soiled the perfection of Amphora's chest. In a sudden frenzy she started slapping the defenceless woman's breasts. Again and again, harder and harder, Ennuta's hands smacked against the Amazon's vulnerable breasts making them bounce from side to side.

SLAP. SLAP. SLAP.

The sound of open palm against beaten flesh echoed around the chamber. When the torturer had finished both women were sweating.

Ennuta walked away and returned with a brown leather pouch and a short whip. The Amazon swallowed hard. The ugly woman placed the whip on the floor ensuring it was in her victims' line of sight. Slowly she unraveled the pouch, allowing the contents to reveal themselves instrument by instrument. Amphora's eyes were drawn first to the knives and scalpels then the hooks and long pins. She swallowed hard.

"Do you want to tell me where we'll find the Princess", said Ennuta, spreading out the pouch on the flagstones.

Nothing.

"Be sure – I'm only just warming up".

"I'll never be broken by a troll like you," said Amphora, glaring.

Ennuta stroked the Amazon's breasts.

"I'm going to make you feel pain beyond anything you could possibly imagine," said the interrogator.

The warrior fought in vain against the bonds.

While Ennuta prepared her tools, a smell of burning began to fill the chamber. From behind the post Amphora could hear someone working – sounds of shuffling and grating.

Once the dungeon mistress was satisfied that the warrior had taken in the sight of the hideous equipment, she walked up to her captive and stood before the bound woman looking down into Amphora's eyes. Ennuta's heart rushed with the simple pleasure of having made the tall muscular Amazon look up at her.

"Tell me where to find your leader," Ennuta hissed, tantalized by the rivers of sweat running down Amphora's naked body.

Silence.

Ennuta shot a glance at the men standing behind the post.

"Chains," said Ennuta.

The dungeon master and his three accomplices forced the warrior's elbows together and encircled them in chains. They placed a clasp between the links holding the chains fast. Amphora's shoulders were pulled back. Her breasts thrust forwards and upwards.

Ennuta grinned. "A little more please".

The men tugged on the metal and tightened the clasp across another two links. The warrior cried out, her face contorted, her pectoral muscles stretched unnaturally. The ache in her shoulders became a searing pain, her back a mass of agony as her torn skin pressed harder into the splintered wood. With each additional link her mouth-watering orbs protruded further from her body.

Ennuta savoured the contrast between her victim's toned limbs and solid torso, able to resist the harshest of blows, and the vulnerability of her prisoner's fleshy breasts, unprotected and open to torture.

"Just one more," Ennuta whispered hoarsely.

The men worked the chains.

Tick.

Another link fell under the clasp.

"Noooooo. No more!!" Amphora's pleading echoed around the airless chamber. She closed her eyes in an effort to block out the pain.

The Amazon's body was completely immobilized. She could move only her head.

"Where's Sempha?" Ennuta asked calmly.

Amphora opened her eyes and looked at her torturer. The warrior was breathing deeply, the exaggerated rising and falling of her chest, the concave shape of her stomach, further exciting the older woman. The Amazon shook her head.

Ennuta picked up the whip and ran her hands along its length. The weapon had a thin beech handle, three thick strands of black leather protruding from the end, tiny knots gathering the leather at the tips. The dungeon mistress held the whip in her right hand and opened the palm of her left. She whipped her open hand as if to mock the captive. The warrior heard a slapping noise, the sound competing with the din of her heart pounding.

The four men walked over and stood behind their female colleague to watch the show.

CRACK

The whip crashed into Amphora's left breast, the three straps connecting separately, each piece of leather stinging fiercely.

"Eeeeaaarrggh".

WHHIIPP

The same, but on her right tit.

"Nnnnggghhh".

CRACK. WHHIIPP. SMACK.

Left right left.

The Amazon shook her head wildly, her thick hair lashing the post.

CRACK

Left.

CRACK

Left again, one of the strands landing directly on her nipple, the pain excruciating.

Ennuta came to stand beside her victim and continued with the torture, bringing the whip down onto the top of Amphora's quivering orbs.

WHHIIPP

"Aaaeegghh".

Again the whip found its target. Fresh pain seared into the newly scarred flesh. Silent agony across the Amazon's face.

CRACK. WHHIIPP.

Leather contacted her upper chest, one strand marking her shoulder. Amphora turned her head away, anxious to protect her face.

WHHIIPP. WHHIIPP. WHHIIPP.

Angry crimson welts appeared on the victim's luscious globes. The stinging sensation reached to her very core, the pain intensifying as the blows rained down. For twenty straight minutes Ennuta whipped the Amazon's gorgeous breasts, from the front, from the side, and from the front again. To Amphora, it felt as if her ordeal would never end.

And when, eventually, the torture stopped there was no bronze skin remaining on her beaten orbs, the warrior's sensitive breasts red, swollen, and raw. Tiny pinpricks of blood oozed from cuts where the leather knots had pierced her skin.

Amphora's body was slick with sweat. Her head lay back against the post, her eyes tightly closed, her breathing ragged.

Lines of sweat ran down Ennuta's face; she raised her arm and pulled it across her forehead. She gasped for breath, her slim frame unaccustomed to such arduous exertion. Usually her victims lasted only a few minutes. That a woman should have remained silent throughout such a thorough whipping was unheard of. The onlookers whispered amongst themselves expressing surprise and disgruntled admiration for the bound woman.

The acrid scent of burning continued to the stifle the atmosphere

Ennuta threw down the whip, walked up to Amphora, and reached into the captive's mass of hair. She yanked back the Amazon's head pleased to see that deep pain was evident in the eyes that looked up at her. With her free hand the aggressor ran her hand across the warrior's damaged breasts. Amphora winced, a moan escaping from her throat.

"Are you ready to talk bitch?" Ennuta growled.

Silence.

She bashed the helpless woman's head against the post.

"I said, are you ready to talk yet?"

Amphora screwed up her eyes. Summoning strength from some deep reserve, she shook her head free.

"Didn't you hear me the first time?" hissed Amphora. "I will tell you nothing!"

Ennuta flushed. She moved back to her position in front of the warrior and turned to the small audience.

"I want to engage the next level," she said calmly, her composure regained.

The men walked out of Amphora's sight. Through a haze of pain the Amazon heard a trundling sound, starting softly and getting louder as whatever it was they were pushing approached the post.

"Stop there," said Ennuta. "I want to try something else first". She pointed towards the corner of the chamber.

Again there was the sound of something being brought over to where the muscular warrior knelt. As the noise came closer the smell of burning grew more intense. Before the brazier came into view, Amphora recognized the scent of roasting coal. She tried to struggle but the chains and ropes held her rigid.

The male attendants pulled the brazier over to Ennuta.

"Thank you," she said. "I'll take it from here".

She picked up the leather pouch and placed the sharp ends of several instruments into the hot coals. In moments the tools were glowing red.

"Ennuta," said the dungeon master, looking at her intently. "Remember our conversation earlier?"

"Yes," said Ennuta. "I haven't forgotten".

Those who watched saw a gruesome display of torture by an expert in the field. The ugly woman bent over her subject like a master technician tackling a difficult problem, her concentration unshaken by the warrior's hideous screams - and the sound and smell of sizzling flesh. Twice the Amazon fainted and twice they brought her round, drenching her in cold water so that the interrogation could continue. Ennuta applied the heated instruments in turn. First the tiny hook, its point as sharp as its edge. Then a series of scalpels, each one ideal for a different purpose. Pins followed. A serrated knife finished the exhibition.

For two whole hours Ennuta worked on Amphora's breasts. She stopped occasionally to let her victim recover, or to ask about Sempha's whereabouts.

When Ennuta finally stepped away, Amphora was almost senseless with pain. Her head was slumped against her chest and spittle drooled from her mouth. Parts of her breasts were burnt and gouged. A section of the aureole on her right tit had been partially peeled back, the nipple ruined. But her aggressor had held back leaving the Amazon's orbs still remarkable even if they now bore evidence of appalling cruelty.

The torturer had wanted to continue but the dungeon master had given her strict instructions that morning.

"Ennuta," he had said. "Today the prisoner is yours to interrogate. Do what you wish - I want her to talk. But do not destroy her breasts. I have an experiment I wish to undertake on them when she is strapped into the device. And leave her face intact. Clen, Puno, and Breet have the woman after you. I want them to enjoy watching that pretty face suffer".

In truth, it took all of Ennuta's will to refrain from applying the blades to her victim's face.

And although Amphora had screamed from the very centre of her being, cried out until there was no more breath in her lungs, and once even pleaded out loud for Sempha to come and rescue her, the interrogators had learnt nothing about the Princess's whereabouts.

Ennuta walked up to the wounded captive and slapped her left breast. A jet of pain reached into Amphora's consciousness and she raised her head to meet the gaze of her aggressor. The thin woman couldn't help noticing how, despite the brutal torture, Amphora remained stunning. Envy bubbled up. Ennuta decided to secure another session with the Amazon – perhaps after he'd conducted his experiments with the device – when all limits would be off.

"Amphora," said Ennuta, aware that time was running out for her methods to work. "Sooner or later I will make you talk. Save yourself yet more pain. Tell me where to find your leader".

The Amazon narrowed her eyes.

"You cannot hurt me more than this. I will not talk".

"You are mistaken my beauty," said Ennuta. "I can hurt you more than this. And I will".

Ennuta called to the four men.

"I'm ready for the next level," she said, motioning towards the piece of equipment that had been positioned behind the post. The men moved the instrument a few inches nearer to the post and started preparing it for use.

Clen, the dungeon master, and Ennuta stood in front of the prisoner, their eyes fixed on a point above the oak post. Amphora tried to look up but the movement caused her breasts to wobble, intensifying the pain, so she chose instead to look straight ahead.

The sound of chains passing through links filled the chamber, the mechanism grinding and squeaking. The Amazon watched as her interrogator's eyes followed the slow progress of the instrument downwards. Little by little the warrior sensed the thing getting closer. Risking the pain, she stole a glance upwards. She saw it. Her eyes widened, her mouth gaped, her face frozen.

A seven-foot tall wooden gantry had been placed behind the post, a beam jutting out from the top of the upright and hanging over the Amazon. A winch was bolted to the upright at the halfway point. A chain ran from the winch up to, and then along, the beam, the links hanging over the end of the beam. Attached to the end of the chain was a manacle, the manacle in turn driven into a thick slab of oak three-foot long and six inches wide. An identical length of wood hung below the first piece, the two slabs held together by thick iron screws, one screw at each end of the slabs. Small handles that operated the screws sat on top of the upper slab.

As the vice was lowered, the two slabs of wood were held eighteen inches apart at the furthest point of the screws.

They brought the vice down level with Amphora's breasts. The Amazon fought, struggling again at the ropes and chains that tied her open and immobile. It was no use. She was held fast. Her breathing deepened. The rising and falling of her chest heightened the pain in her quivering tits.

Puno and Breet drew the instrument close to the warrior's chest so that her breasts were framed by the slabs, one above and one below her savaged orbs.

"Perfect," said Ennuta. "I can take it from here".

The men retreated and the female interrogator stood close to her victim, enjoying the fresh lines of sweat running down Amphora's taut body.

"Where's the Princess", said Ennuta. "Such a simple question".

Amphora looked away, a surge of anger and fear momentarily invigorating her.

Ennuta turned the two handles. The trap closed on the Amazon's battered globes. One slab pressed down against her swollen flesh while simultaneously the other pushed up. Amphora winced.

"You appear to be in pain," said the plain woman. "And I haven't started work yet. Again, the location of the Princess?"

The Amazon laid her head back against the post and closed her eyes.

Silence.

"I will apply the pressure," said the torturer, unable to hold back a smile. "And I will continue until you talk".

Adjusting the position of her feet, Ennuta turned the handles - slowly. The screws began to rotate and the slabs of oak moved closer. Within moments the vice had gripped Amphora's breasts hard. The inside edge of the wood slabs was rough, aggravating the welts and burns. Blood oozed from her right nipple dripping onto the lower slab.

The vice bit.

Amphora shrieked.

Ennuta stopped.

"Last chance," she said. "Tell me what you know".

The warrior clenched her teeth.

"You bitch," the Amazon hissed.

Ennuta tightened the screws. For five minutes she worked, relishing the new depths of Amphora's agony; the screams, the sweat, the blood.

When Ennuta had finished Amphora looked down at her chest. She could see her ample breasts flattened, tender flesh protruding from the sides of the vice. Her dark brown nipples stuck out from the front of the instrument, the pressure of the wood further discolouring her damaged globes. The tortured woman saw that her right nipple had been badly disfigured. She fought to hold back tears. She beat the back of her head against the post in frustration at her utter helplessness and humiliation. Her eyes were closed, her breathing had become shallow again, her hair lay matted with sweat against her shoulders.

"One last turn," said Ennuta.

The Amazon opened her eyes.

"Please no," Amphora implored, the words slipping out involuntarily. "Please".

"That's more like it," said Ennuta sensing victory. "I will free you with pleasure. But first I need some answers".

Amphora closed her eyes again. The words were on the tip of her tongue. But then she saw Sempha's face - it was a sunny day somewhere sometime that seemed an age ago – and she imagined the Princess taken by the Thoranians, and shivered at the thought of what they would do to her leader to extract information about the treasure.

She opened her eyes and glared at her interrogator, amber fire engaging dark hatred.

The gesture was enough.

Ennuta turned the screw a final time.

Two floors higher, through walls of solid granite, people heard the victim's screams.

* * *

Jemius and his men approached the Lynx. It had taken all his authority as a commander to prevent the soldiers from abusing their captive during the thirty-hour journey. But the order from the King had been clearly spelt out and the fear of punishment had kept their appetites in check. As they came within two hundred yards of the vessel the lookouts heralded their imminent arrival.

The ship's crew gathered at the side of the deck. Of the six groups that had left three had already returned, all empty-handed. Tevo had also arrived with news of the ambush and Haalet's capture. That left two groups; those led by Jemius, and Rufus.

Chrim walked ahead and the sailors cheered when they saw the blindfolded woman being dragged along behind him. They saw how she fought, her struggle intensifying the closer she came to the boat. For most of the men, this was only the second time they had ever seen an Amazon.

"She's magnificent," said Trem, the ship's bosun. Murmurs of agreement from the crowd on deck. Everyone was wondering if this was the Princess. On one hand they hoped she was – they'd be showered with praise if they brought home the ultimate trophy. On the other hand, if she were a mere foot soldier they would have a plaything for the return voyage. A win-win situation.

Tevo and Costall were in the Admiral's cabin discussing the crisis of Haalet's capture. Hearing the commotion outside they went to investigate. Looking down from the poop deck they saw Jemius's group arriving.

"Is that the Princess?" asked Costall.

"I don't know," said the Captain. "But I'm going to find out".

Tevo strode off towards the gangplank, the Admiral following.

* * *

It didn't take much to make him talk. A short while after the interrogation had started – and finished - Haalet was tied in the back of a cart being driven to Tolana's base. A band of Amazons provided an escort. They couldn't believe their luck. It seems they had captured a Prince.

* * *

They had left Amphora to her thoughts, her breasts crushed in the vice. Occasionally Ennuta returned to her victim. The torturer checked that the screws had not loosened and, if necessary, tightened them a notch or two. Amphora was conscious – just. Every time Ennuta made the adjustments fresh waves of pain brought the warrior back to lucidity.

"Remember Amphora," Ennuta said each time. "Talk and I will free you".

The Amazon would move her mouth in response but no words ever came out.

The interrogators left their subject in this wretched state for the remainder of the day.

* * *

The Captain congratulated Jemius's group.

"Good work men," he said, shaking Pilo's hand. "You will be handsomely rewarded".

"It was Chrim's lasso," said Pilo modestly.

"How will we know if she's the Princess?" asked Chrim. The crowd was silent. This was the question on everyone's lips.

Glaina stood proud, her blindfold somehow adding to her presence. The sound of waves, voices, and flapping sails disorientated her. She sweated from the rigours of the journey. The pace had been fast demanding energy and concentration to keep her footing on the uneven ground.

Tevo circled the prisoner looking for clues to her identity. She sensed the man and tried to follow him with her head.

"Remove her gag," said the Captain.

Pilo untied the rope and she spat out the rag. She flung back her head, the end of her flame-orange hair blowing in the fresh breeze.

"I am Princess Sempha," she said. "Release me".

The men laughed at her audacious request.

The Captain came to stand in front of the woman. Her beauty certainly matched the reputation that preceded the Princess. He doubted that she would identify herself so freely but he knew of her cunning and, by drawing attention to herself, she would draw the heat from any prisoners the Thoranians might have taken.

"Prove it," said Tevo. "Tell us where the treasure is hidden".

"I cannot tell you that," said Glaina. "Free me before my forces arrive or risk certain death".

The men laughed again, this time an unease in their mirth. They saw her strength and admired her pride.

"She reminds me of the other one," said one of the sailors.

"What other one?"

"The woman strapped to the log," he said. "She has the same…..the same…..attitude".

"Are your troops nearby?" Tevo asked the woman, well aware that Rufus's group had yet to return.

"Yes," said Glaina. "Many of them. Untie me and I will allow you to leave".

Releasing her was out of the question. But he had insufficient soldiers to fight off a large Amazon force. And he couldn't depart until Rufus's group was safely on board.

He studied their captive. The Captain knew that the Amazons were a tall beautiful race; that many of them were as remarkable as the woman standing before him. He lingered, enjoying her powerful body, his pleasure heightened by the sight of this muscular creature tamed.

Something about her seemed familiar; something he couldn't quite place.

"How do I know you are who you claim to be?" asked Tevo.

"Do you want to wait until my army arrives to find out?" she replied.

The Captain felt the eyes of his soldiers boring into him. The men were enthralled by this intriguing game of wits. He looked up at the flags flying from the masts, the Minotaur's head plain for all to see. Then it came to him – a recognition from another place a few days earlier.

He walked up to the Amazon.

"Hold her," he ordered. A man gripped each of her arms, two others drew their swords.

"Chrim," said Tevo. "Pass me that decoration on her arm".

Glaina struggled against the men. Pilo grabbed her from behind, his forearm around her throat. Chrim removed the serpent.

Tevo read the inscription etched into the gold and pocketed the band. He turned to address the waiting throng.

"This is Glaina," he said, his arm spread back towards her. "The second of the Princess's notorious bodyguards". The men cheered. The Amazon struggled, her heart pounding.

"She is your reward for the journey home," he continued. Cries of delight went up from the soldiers and crew. Tevo held up his arms and the crowd hushed.

"We cannot stay for long. We will wait for Rufus to return and then we must set sail. Now that we have both her bodyguards, it cannot be long before the dungeon master is able to tell us where to find the Princess".

He paused.

"Take her away".

Men surrounded Glaina. Hands grabbed at her body. She tried to stand her ground but found herself propelled towards the ship. Trem ran down the gangplank and grabbed the end of the lasso.

"Hello my beauty," he said, his breath foul against her face. She turned away.

"Leave me alone you scum," she yelled.

"Am I not good enough for a Princess?" he said, grinning from ear to ear. Laughter from the others.

"This way," he whispered, pulling on the leash. "Welcome on board. I think you'll enjoy the journey home".

He hauled her up the gangway and onto the ship, men pushing from behind as she fought blind against the gang. Clammy hands pawed at her thighs and arms. She was powerless to prevent them. They pulled the struggling Amazon towards an open hatch and took her below deck.

* * *

Half an hour later, while the crew was distracted preparing Glaina for the voyage back to Thorania, and Amphora knelt helpless in the grip of the vice, the last of the groups arrived back at the Lynx. Rufus walked ahead; his four colleagues followed carrying a long thin tree trunk, two men at each end. A tall supremely beautiful woman was tied to the pole, her wrists, ankles, and waist, roped to the wood. The group leader eagerly anticipated the Captain's reaction to his trophy. Rufus reached inside his pocket and fingered the puma's head. For the hundredth time he recalled her eyes – the palest blue he'd ever seen. He had one thing in common with the dungeon master. They both adored blondes.

To be continued……..

* * *