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Barbaria1 said:
6.

The trail taken by Bárbara Morales and Diego de Arana as they fled the town of San Sebastián de La Gomera followed one of the deep ravines, or barrancos, that led a steeply torturous course into the mountainous terrain surrounding the island’s central peak ... cloud and mist shrouded, Alto de Garajonay.

Their progress was slowed by the steepness of the rock-strewn path and by the fact that Bárbara was barefoot. In addition there was the fact that the leg iron attached to her ankle, and its trailing broken chain which kept catching on rocks and roots, made walking difficult for her, and soon had her winded, footsore and complaining.

“We must move faster!” admonished Diego when she abruptly sat herself down on the side of the path to inspect a bloody cut on the sole of her left foot. “Listen, Bárbara! Do you hear the bells tolling in the town below? It means the alarm has been raised. They’ll be coming after us soon!”

“Move faster? Easy for you to say, Diego. You’re the one wearing shoes.”

“Give me your hands!”

“Why?”

“Just do it!”

Reaching down he grasped her by her outstretched wrists, and raised her to her feet. And then, sliding his hands down her arms and sides to her waist he hoisted her into the air and dumped her torso, head first, over his broad shoulder.

“Put me down!” she cried, legs kicking and fists pounding on his lower back.

Ignoring her protests, he set off up the trail with her draped over his shoulder, his arm firmly wrapped around her bare ass ... the heavy woolen seaman’s tunic she was wearing having fallen and bunched around her chest.

View attachment 761104

Meanwhile, down in the town Cristobal Colon and the Spanish governor were meeting outside the Torre del Conde. The town by then had been thoroughly searched without success, and the two leaders had come together to coordinate pursuit of the fugitives into the back country.

Before long men from both the garrison and Colon’s ships had formed search parties and were fanning out to comb the barrancos. Diego and Bárbara could already hear their shouts as they gave chase and steadily closed on their slower moving prey.

“They’re gaining on us. We need to hide somewhere, Diego,” she called from behind his back.

“Not here. Our only chance is to make it to the rain forest tree line higher up. The scrub down here isn’t dense enough for concealment,” he replied through gritted teeth as he tried to pick up the pace.

“I thought you promised me they’d never find us?”

“I may have been wrong. Listen! Sounds as though we’ve been spotted.”

“Put me down then, Diego! I’ll give myself up. Save yourself!”

“I won’t.”

“Don’t be foolish. Leave me!”

“No, Bárbara! We’ll face this together,” he announced with resignation, stopping to set her down.

“I’m so sorry, Diego,” she cried, modestly pulling her raised tunic down into place before turning to face the colorfully pantaloon-uniformed soldiers approaching and encircling them with pikes leveled.

************

“I’m here to collect the fugitives. I understand they were captured this afternoon and brought here,” declared Cristobal Colon to the uniformed guard at the entrance to the Torre del Conde. Behind Colon stood his two constant companions, Juan de la Cosa and Rodrigo de Escobedo, and an escort of four armed seaman.

“Word travels fast ...” grunted the guard. “Wait here.”

Left waiting outdoors, under darkening clouds and a steady drizzle, Colon paced irritably back and forth, fuming about the lack of respect just afforded by a lowly provincial to he ... he, who was destined to hold the esteemed title, Admiral of the Ocean Sea! Such insolence! The governor would hear about this!

Returning, the guard admitted Colon and his entourage, but told them they must remain in the vestibule until the governor could see them. And there they cooled their heels for what seemed an interminable time, until at last the governor appeared.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting, Captain Colon,” he said, without bowing or offering any gesture of respect.

“I’m here to collect the fugitives. I understand they were captured this afternoon and brought here,” replied Colon, repeating what he had originally said to the guard.

“Ah Yes, but not so fast,” said the governor, holding up both hands, palms out. “As it happened, the man and woman were captured by my men, not yours.”

“But Diego de Arana is a member of my crew, and Bárbara Morales is ... um ... well ... mine too!”

“Ah, but we established when we conferred this morning, did we not, that the man and woman are fugitives? And these two fugitives have been apprehended on the run by my men, not yours, within the bounds of my jurisdiction, not yours ... is that not true?”

“Well, yes but ...”

“Then under the law, as detained fugitives they must be questioned, prosecuted and punished, if found guilty, right here in San Sebastián de La Gomera. Now if you wish to see them ... I will accede to taking you to them, my dear Colon. But understand that you cannot take them away with you, nor can you interfere in the proceedings. My people are, in fact, busy right now preparing to extract confessions of guilt from them. And I have no doubt the man and woman will be persuaded to talk. Should they admit to leaving your ship without permission and in possession of stolen property, as you have charged, they will be appropriately and publicly punished here, on the town square, for their misdeeds. Now, do you wish to accompany me to where they are being held?”

“Alright, alright ... lead on, you win for now, but you have not heard the end of this, my dear misguided governor. I intend to take this matter up on the morrow with my good friend and powerful patron, Beatriz de Babadilla y Ossario, the Countess of La Gomera and widow of Hernán Peraza the Younger. Then we shall see!”

A hint of uncertainty flitted across the governor’s face, but he swiftly recovered and said only, “follow me.”

With Cristobal Colon and his retinue trailing behind, he led them across the tower’s central court, through an open doorway on the far side, and down a spiral staircase leading to the subterranean bowels of the great fortress, where they were admitted to a chamber guarded by two soldiers and eerily lit by flickering torches ensconced along the walls.

The air in the chamber was warm due to a pair of braziers in the center of the space which gave off heat, as well as the acrid smell of hot glowing embers. Several hooded men milled around ... and there ... shackled spread-eagled and side-by-side against the far wall were Bárbara Morales and Diego de Arana.

View attachment 761103

She had been stripped naked. She seemed resigned ... forlorn ... head bowed ... thin-lipped ... eyes closed ... perhaps a bit apprehensive ... her round, upturned breasts gently rising and falling with each labored breath.

View attachment 761105

He was bare chested ... and in contrast to her ... visibly perturbed ... nostrils flared, eyes flashing ... muscles rippling ... tugging furiously at and rattling his shackles ... cursing his captors.

“Please have a seat,” said the governor amiably to Colon and his people ... gesturing with a slight bow to a low wooden bench set along a side wall. “I believe we are about ready to begin.”

TO BE CONTINUED
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“Please have a seat,” said the governor amiably to Colon and his people ... gesturing with a slight bow to a low wooden bench set along a side wall. “I believe we are about ready to begin.”
 

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7.

Stepping forward, and bowing stiffly, first in the direction of the governor and thence to Cristobal Colon and his people, the governor’s chief inquisitor ... Domingo de la Pena ... assumed his place directly before and facing Bárbara and Diego ... flanked by his four burly black-hooded assistants ... two to each side. Seated off to one side, a monk sat at a small desk quill in hand, ready to record the proceedings.

20643CAA-26C4-49A7-B663-30F7A562556C.jpeg

Dressed finely, and full of swagger, the chief inquisitor ... a portly man ... was clearly enjoying the moment ... jowly face flushed and deeply-set eyes gleaming.

Diego ceased his struggling. He stared intently at the inquisitor, taking the man’s measure. Was he to be feared, or was he merely a lowly backwater provincial, enjoying a rare moment as the center of attention.

Bárbara, meanwhile, turned her head aside, avoiding the inquisitor’s unsettling gaze which seemed to be directed solely at her. Why was he looking so intently at her? Was he sensing weakness? Or was he just savoring her nakedness?

4DE4754F-A90F-4628-88B3-8E2A742DC628.jpeg

“You have been charged,” he presently began, “by Captain Colon’s formal petition, made early this morning to the office of the governor, requesting help with your apprehension and charging you with three crimes: Firstly, Diego de Arana ... master-at-arms aboard the carrack, Santa Maria, presently moored in San Sebastián harbor, is accused of gross desertion of duty ... and secondly, Bárbara Morales ... of willfully aiding and abetting aforesaid desertion. Thirdly, both prisoners ... for theft of property belonging to our majesties’ loyal and honorable servant, Captain Colon.”

And as evidence of the latter, he held up the dagger Diego had used to break the chain to set Bárbara free from Colon’s bed and which Diego had taken with when he and Bárbara fled.

“The dagger is mine, it was not stolen!” cried Diego.

“Yours? With an ivory handle and a silver hilt engraved with the personal seal of Queen Isabella?” sneered the inquisitor, brandishing the dagger triumphantly.

Bárbara turned to glare accusingly at Diego. Why hadn’t he had the good sense to throw it away?

Exultant in his cleverness, Domingo de la Pena turned to his audience and beamed ... only to note with annoyance that Cristobal Colon had risen to speak.

“I believe, Sir, you’ve just made my case,” Colon announced, flashing a sly smile. “It’s quite clear from the foregoing that all charges against Diego de Arana have directly to do with crimes related to his position ... I should say, former position ... in the service of me on the Santa Maria. Moreover, I can prove that the dagger in question was a gift to me, Cristobal Colon from her majesty ... mine as well as yours ... Queen Isabella. And as for the woman, Bárbara Morales, she is not only Diego de Arana’s accomplice but a fugitive of shipboard justice onboard Santa Maria, and whom I must regretfully inform you has yet to complete a decreed punishment of thirty lashes for crimes she committed against my ship, its royally sponsored mission, and the ship’s company. Accordingly, I demand, once again, that both prisoners be turned over to me.”

“But ...” shouted the governor, rising to his feet. “Let us not forget that we have only charges at this point. We have yet to hear a confession of guilt and it is the duty of my office and my inquisitor to extract a confession and, if so extracted, for direct punishment to take place here in San Sebastián under the jurisdiction where those confessions took place! With that in mind, I do beg you, Domingo, to disregard this interruption and please proceed.”

“Yes, of course,” replied the inquisitor as he approached Bárbara. Reaching out, he abruptly grabbed a breast by the nipple, and both twisting and pinching hard, hissed in her face, “Confess! Confess at once! For your own good, Confess!”

“Such finesse!” snorted Cristobal Colon derisively and just loud enough to be overheard over Bárbara’s scream.

“Leave her alone!” roared an enraged Diego, tugging violently at his shackles.

“Perhaps some persuasion will be required,” mused Domingo de la Pena, releasing Bárbara’s stretched nipple and backing judiciously away from Diego’s constrained reach.

Turning to his hooded assistants, he commanded, “Raise them both over the coals ... let’s see if a little heat might loosen their tongues and encourage cooperation.”

The four henchmen raced to carry out his orders. While one of them released Bárbara from her shackles and dragged her, protesting loudly, to the center of the chamber, the other three struggled to overcome the desperate resistance of a defiant Diego. In the end they succeeded only by beating him into a state of semiconsciousness.

Then they lowered an iron ring that hung from a ceiling beam, and bound both Bárbara and Diego to it by the wrists before raising it until the two prisoners hung suspended from it, facing one another, bodies touching. Diego’s trousers and boots were removed, leaving them both naked.

“Last chance to stick it in her,” chortled one of the masked brutes, poking playfully at Diego’s penis with one hand and shoving his pelvis against hers with the other. “It’s right there for the taking!”

The others laughed heartily.

Then, with the rattle of chain overhead, the two naked bodies were hoisted higher while one of the chamber’s two braziers ... its coals freshly stoked ... was placed directly beneath their feet.

Looking down through the narrow space between their stretched bodies, Bárbara stared wide-eyed at the red glow of the coals below, and kicked her feet uselessly as though that might somehow dissipate the intense rising heat.

“Confess now?” asked the Inquisitor, looking up at them as they rotated slowly around above the brazier.

“No, never!” replied Diego, defiant to the end.

Both he and Bárbara had begun to sweat profusely and the skin his sweat-sheened chest had begun to stick to the soft flesh of her breasts flattened against it, and to make sucking noises whenever he or she shifted position. The heat below their tightly pressed bodies was almost unbearable.

For her, the only distraction was that she could feel his stiffening member pressing ever higher against her inner thigh. It’s advance gave her pause, and for a fleeting moment she wished they could.

“Stay strong,” he admonished, his voice strangely hoarse.

“I don’t know,” she replied doubtfully.

There are limits beyond which no one can go, she thought to herself.

“Last chance,” called the Inquisitor.

“Never!” repeated Diego.

“Lower them!” ordered Domingo de la Pena, his face flushed and one hand hidden low inside his tunic.

3746072B-4E85-4A2C-B7D0-C7B43C2744DC.jpeg

Down they went, dropping suddenly and swiftly until their feet hovered barely above the coals. Bárbara gasped as the heat seared the soles of her feet. Instinctively, she pulled her legs up, and then wrapped them high around Diego’s hips, locking her ankles behind his back while his own legs flashed back and forth as though he were running a race.

“Now?” said the inquisitor. “Confess?”

“Never!”

“Perhaps then a red hot iron up their arses? See to it, men. Him first, then her!”

She watched aghast as one of their hooded tormentors donned a pair of thick gloves and withdrew an iron rod from the brazier, its tip glowing a bright white-orange, before circling around to position himself behind Diego. A second torturer intending to do the same, was withdrawing a second rod, his eyes fixed on her.

That was enough.

“No,” she cried as he positioned himself behind her. “Please, no! I confess! I confess for both of us! Please put those things down!”

“Good, good!” chortled Domingo de la Pena, checking to see that the scribe was recording her words.

“You have your confession, excellency,” he called to the governor. “Now, what say you as to sentencing?”

“Well done,” replied the governor, rising to his feet. “We must make an example of them. I order that they be paraded through the streets of San Sebastián tomorrow morning, behind a cart and under the lash, and that we then let them languish under the midday sun in the stocks on the market square, and at day’s end that their necks be placed on the executioner’s block. For tonight, I order them put them in chains and thrown together in a cell. This I have decreed. Justice be served.”

“Perhaps,” intervened Cristobal Colon, his voice even as he rose to leave. “We shall see. I go this evening to plead my case with my friend and patron here, Beatriz de Babadilla y Ossario, Countess of La Gomera. Should she agree with my position in this matter, then you ... my dear governor ... shall have on the morrow, as you surely must know, the displeasure of answering to a person of influence and power far greater than your own!”

TO BE CONTINUED
 
Last edited:
Barbaria1 said:
7.

Stepping forward, and bowing stiffly, first in the direction of the governor and thence to Cristobal Colon and his people, the governor’s chief inquisitor ... Domingo de la Pena ... assumed his place directly before and facing Bárbara and Diego ... flanked by his four burly black-hooded assistants ... two to each side. Seated off to one side, a monk sat at a small desk quill in hand, ready to record the proceedings.

Dressed finely, and full of swagger, the chief inquisitor ... a portly man ... was clearly enjoying the moment ... jowly face flushed and deeply-set eyes gleaming.

Diego ceased his struggling. He stared intently at the inquisitor, taking the man’s measure. Was he to be feared, or was he merely a lowly backwater provincial, enjoying a rare moment as the center of attention.

Bárbara, meanwhile, turned her head aside, avoiding the inquisitor’s unsettling gaze which seemed to be directed solely at her. Why was he looking so intently at her? Was he sensing weakness? Or was he just savoring her nakedness?

“You have been charged,” he presently began, “by Captain Colon’s formal petition, made early this morning to the office of the governor, requesting help with your apprehension and charging you with three crimes: Firstly, Diego de Arana ... master-at-arms aboard the carrack, Santa Maria, presently moored in San Sebastián harbor, is accused of gross desertion of duty ... and secondly, Bárbara Morales ... of willfully aiding and abetting aforesaid desertion. Thirdly, both prisoners ... for theft of property belonging to our majesties’ loyal and honorable servant, Captain Colon.”

And as evidence of the latter, he held up the dagger Diego had used to break the chain to set Bárbara free from Colon’s bed and which Diego had taken with when he and Bárbara fled.

“The dagger is mine, it was not stolen!” cried Diego.

“Yours? With an ivory handle and a silver hilt engraved with the personal seal of Queen Isabella?” sneered the inquisitor, brandishing the dagger triumphantly.

Bárbara turned to glare accusingly at Diego. Why hadn’t he had the good sense to throw it away?

Exultant in his cleverness, Domingo de la Pena turned to his audience and beamed ... only to note with annoyance that Cristobal Colon had risen to speak.

“I believe, Sir, you’ve just made my case,” Colon announced, flashing a sly smile. “It’s quite clear from the foregoing that all charges against Diego de Arana have directly to do with crimes related to his position ... I should say, former position ... in the service of me on the Santa Maria. Moreover, I can prove that the dagger in question was a gift to me, Cristobal Colon from her majesty ... mine as well as yours ... Queen Isabella. And as for the woman, Bárbara Morales, she is not only Diego de Arana’s accomplice but a fugitive of shipboard justice onboard Santa Maria, and whom I must regretfully inform you has yet to complete a decreed punishment of thirty lashes for crimes she committed against my ship, its royally sponsored mission, and the ship’s company. Accordingly, I demand, once again, that both prisoners be turned over to me.”

“But ...” shouted the governor, rising to his feet. “Let us not forget that we have only charges at this point. We have yet to hear a confession of guilt and it is the duty of my office and my inquisitor to extract a confession and, if so extracted, for direct punishment to take place here in San Sebastián under the jurisdiction where those confessions took place! With that in mind, I do beg you, Domingo, to disregard this interruption and please proceed.”

“Yes, of course,” replied the inquisitor as he approached Bárbara. Reaching out, he abruptly grabbed a breast by the nipple, and both twisting and pinching hard, hissed in her face, “Confess! Confess at once! For your own good, Confess!”

“Such finesse!” snorted Cristobal Colon derisively and just loud enough to be overheard over Bárbara’s scream.

“Leave her alone!” roared an enraged Diego, tugging violently at his shackles.

“Perhaps some persuasion will be required,” mused Domingo de la Pena, releasing Bárbara’s stretched nipple and backing judiciously away from Diego’s constrained reach.

Turning to his hooded assistants, he commanded, “Raise them both over the coals ... let’s see if a little heat might loosen their tongues and encourage cooperation.”

The four henchmen raced to carry out his orders. While one of them released Bárbara from her shackles and dragged her, protesting loudly, to the center of the chamber, the other three struggled to overcome the desperate resistance of a defiant Diego. In the end they succeeded only by beating him into a state of semiconsciousness.

Then they lowered an iron ring that hung from a ceiling beam, and bound both Bárbara and Diego to it by the wrists before raising it until the two prisoners hung suspended from it, facing one another, bodies touching. Diego’s trousers and boots were removed, leaving them both naked.

“Last chance to stick it in her,” chortled one of the masked brutes, poking playfully at Diego’s penis with one hand and shoving his pelvis against hers with the other. “It’s right there for the taking!”

The others laughed heartily.

Then, with the rattle of chain overhead, the two naked bodies were hoisted higher while one of the chamber’s two braziers ... its coals freshly stoked ... was placed directly beneath their feet.

Looking down through the narrow space between their stretched bodies, Bárbara stared wide-eyed at the red glow of the coals below, and kicked her feet uselessly as though that might somehow dissipate the intense rising heat.

“Confess now?” asked the Inquisitor, looking up at them as they rotated slowly around above the brazier.

“No, never!” replied Diego, defiant to the end.

Both he and Bárbara had begun to sweat profusely and the skin his sweat-sheened chest had begun to stick to the soft flesh of her breasts flattened against it, and to make sucking noises whenever he or she shifted position. The heat below their tightly pressed bodies was almost unbearable.

For her, the only distraction was that she could feel his stiffening member pressing ever higher against her inner thigh. It’s advance gave her pause, and for a fleeting moment she wished they could.

“Stay strong,” he admonished, his voice strangely hoarse.

“I don’t know,” she replied doubtfully.

There are limits beyond which no one can go, she thought to herself.

“Last chance,” called the Inquisitor.

“Never!” repeated Diego.

“Lower them!” ordered Domingo de la Pena, his face flushed and one hand hidden low inside his tunic.

Down they went, dropping suddenly and swiftly until their feet hovered barely above the coals. Bárbara gasped as the heat seared the soles of her feet. Instinctively, she pulled her legs up, and then wrapped them high around Diego’s hips, locking her ankles behind his back while his own legs flashed back and forth as though he were running a race.

“Now?” said the inquisitor. “Confess?”

“Never!”

“Perhaps then a red hot iron up their arses? See to it, men. Him first, then her!”

She watched aghast as one of their hooded tormentors donned a pair of thick gloves and withdrew an iron rod from the brazier, its tip glowing a bright white-orange, before circling around to position himself behind Diego. A second torturer intending to do the same, was withdrawing a second rod, his eyes fixed on her.

That was enough.

“No,” she cried as he positioned himself behind her. “Please, no! I confess! I confess for both of us! Please put those things down!”

“Good, good!” chortled Domingo de la Pena, checking to see that the scribe was recording her words.

“You have your confession, excellency,” he called to the governor. “Now, what say you as to sentencing?”

“Well done,” replied the governor, rising to his feet. “We must make an example of them. I order that they be paraded through the streets of San Sebastián tomorrow morning, behind a cart and under the lash, and that we then let them languish under the midday sun in the stocks on the market square, and at day’s end that their necks be placed on the executioner’s block. For tonight, I order them put them in chains and thrown together in a cell. This I have decreed. Justice be served.”

“Perhaps,” intervened Cristobal Colon, his voice even as he rose to leave. “We shall see. I go this evening to plead my case with my friend and patron here, Beatriz de Babadilla y Ossario, Countess of La Gomera. Should she agree with my position in this matter, then you ... my dear governor ... shall have on the morrow, as you surely must know, the displeasure of answering to a person of influence and power far greater than your own!”

TO BE CONTINUED
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The early morning quota of domination, humiliation and punishment from Barb never disappoints and this chapter was no exception. The picture of Diego becoming erect due to the close proximity of Barbara's naked body, sweating profusely against him, despite their awful predicament hanging over hot coals, creates a wonderfully erotic vision ...
 
Bárbara, meanwhile, turned her head aside, avoiding the inquisitor’s unsettling gaze ... Bárbara turned to glare accusingly at Diego. ... Then, with the rattle of chain overhead, the two naked bodies were hoisted higher while one of the chamber’s two braziers ... its coals freshly stoked ... was placed directly beneath their feet.
 

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Barbaria1 said:
Diego ceased his struggling. He stared intently at the inquisitor, taking the man’s measure. Was he to be feared, or was he merely a lowly backwater provincial, enjoying a rare moment as the center of attention.
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No matter how they are, keep in mind that all inquisitioners are complacent smartasses. :confused:

Barbaria1 said:
Then they lowered an iron ring that hung from a ceiling beam, and bound both Bárbara and Diego to it by the wrists before raising it until the two prisoners hung suspended from it, facing one another, bodies touching. Diego’s trousers and boots were removed, leaving them both naked.
Click to expand...
Diego, you lucky bastard!:very_hot:;)
 
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