wulf
God-Emperor
Are you sure that's wise? She does have a habit of breaking things.
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Art by Riodoro
- Thread starter Riodoro
- Start date
Tbh, just looking at it again, I don’t think I used any actual wisdom in my volunteering, I was probably using my other head…
So long as she doesn’t touch any red buttons, we’re safe!
Dafmads
Magistrate
I do love sophisticated contraptions for torture- so it is highly exciting for me to explore this machine with my thoughts. But I fail to discover all of it's capabilities:A small preview of what is to come: I'm working on the next chapter of my series about the waldensian crusade. This is one of Captain Polin's ingenious torture machines. I wonder if any of you can guess how it works
View attachment 1430362
The copper bulb certainly heats water to spray or to steam it onto the victim?
The spiked handle bars (?) on the pole's upper part might dig into feet or- depending on the size of the machine- carry a gir's crotch, which is put onto it? Or her knees-hollow, if she is bound backwards close to the fire-box?
For the latter might speak the neck-locks ( of brown wood?), which are laying on the fire-basket-rails. Or is the iron trianlge, which is fixed to the post, raisable? In this case the steam-valve might aim to her pussy ( or his cock) and the glowing coals would roast her/ his butt.
I am so very curious about i's proper use!!
Thank you for this puzzle!
mster
Guard
Fantastic! Is the new toy for Catherine or Marguerite ?A small preview of what is to come: I'm working on the next chapter of my series about the waldensian crusade. This is one of Captain Polin's ingenious torture machines. I wonder if any of you can guess how it works
View attachment 1430362
Riodoro
Executioner
It is for a new victim. But Catherine will be the focus of this chapter. There will be three new pictures. The chronologically first and third one are done and I just finished the last props for the second one:Fantastic! Is the new toy for Catherine or Marguerite ?
A complete re-working of Catherine's cage/cell
...and a set of chains and fetters for Catherine
Now there is only rendering and postwork left to do. I think I will post the first pic on the weekend. That will give those of you who were wondering how the machine works some more clues
Last edited:
Riodoro
Executioner
Hi everyone,
I have a little problem with the texts that come with my pictures. I originally intended them to be small, vignette-like descriptions of the scene that is depicted. Something to provide a bit of context and to set the mood. Well, it turns out that once I started writing I don’t seem to be able to be brief. Those little texts grew into full fledged stories and the one I wrote for the second chapter of the Waldensian Crusade is my longest yet with over 4000 words. I really don’t think it makes sense to post this many words as jpg-files like I used to do with chapter one. Making them is a lot of work and they are hard to edit for mistakes (of which I found quite a lot when I re-read the first part). They also unnecessarily increase bandwidth usage. Therefore I decided to post the rest of the story as normal text here in the forum. If there is Interest I will make jpgs or a pdf for download from an external site once the whole thing is completed.
So, here’s the first part of chapter 2…
“A delicious creature, this one…” Brother Guillaume said with a subtle smile that signalled that he was well aware of Brother Philibert’s shame. And he obviously wasn’t the only one, Brother Philibert thought. Jeannot, the warden that had fetched Marie from the casemates openly grinned at him as he shoved the young woman inside the torture chamber.
“You wanted the Blondeau girl, Father?” he said in a tone that barely concealed his amusement.
Brother Philibert frowned. It seemed that everyone was aware that he had broken his vow of celibacy and that he had subsequently been given a stern reprimand by Abbé Maurand. His punishment – he had to pray one hundred rosaries and feast for three days – was not even half as bad as the mockery he had to endure from the Italian mercenaries.
“Leave her with me and Brother Guillaume who will assist me today in punishing this wench,” he said, “but first take those off…” he gestured towards the heavy chains and fetters with which the girl was bound. “If you want to stay and watch after you’re done you can make yourself useful and help set up the machine. I will grease her.”
Marie still seemed breathtakingly beautiful to him. He resisted the urge to bury his face between her big breasts as he had done so often before and took the little bucket filled with pig fat instead. The girl winced as she felt the touch of the brush on the underside of her left tit. The way her lower lip slightly trembled as she quietly whimpered while he went on to smear the fat generously all over the front of her torso was so tantalizing that he felt an overwhelming urge to fuck her again right here in the torture chamber. This witch surely had him under a powerful spell just like Abbé Maurand had suspected.
Soon her greased skin glistened in the flickering light of the candles.
Marie’s eyes were fixed on the ominous contraption that stood in the middle of the torture chamber. A menacing machine made of hard wood and cast iron.
“This is one of the Baron’s famous playthings,” Brother Philibert explained to her, “I have decided that it will be the device of your punishment today and Abbé Maurand approved. He will join us later to witness your suffering.”
“I… I am thankful, Father…,” Marie whispered, “I know I need to be punished.” It sounded suspiciously apathetic to Brother Philibert, as if she were just reciting empty words.
“Indeed, you do, my dear. And we shall see if you are sincere about your wish.”
The way she stood there before him, her eyes downcast, her voice trembling and so quiet it was barely audible, one could almost think she were innocent like a virgin, Brother Philibert thought, although he knew better of course.
“You think she can take the big one, Father?” Gregor asked. He was considering which one to pick from a variety of metal phalluses sitting in a crate on the ground before him. They were finely crafted from copper and could be screwed onto the upper part of the torture machine. The one that the German torturer was holding in his hand was enormous – almost a foot long and thick as a man’s underarm.
“One of the smaller ones, I would think. But make sure it is one with sharp edges. Remember, we want to hurt her, not kill her.”
“Oh please, Father. I fear I can’t survive this.” Marie sobbed.
She was delightful in her terror, Brother Philibert thought. He felt a pang of regret that her beauty would soon be destroyed – or was it simply because he would not be able to enjoy her any longer?
“Nonsense, nothing is being inflicted on you that you can’t endure if you sincerely repent your crimes.”
He decided that her tits could use another coating of pig fat and grabbed the brush.
“Now be quiet and stick those fat udders of yours out for me, my sweet child.”
I have a little problem with the texts that come with my pictures. I originally intended them to be small, vignette-like descriptions of the scene that is depicted. Something to provide a bit of context and to set the mood. Well, it turns out that once I started writing I don’t seem to be able to be brief. Those little texts grew into full fledged stories and the one I wrote for the second chapter of the Waldensian Crusade is my longest yet with over 4000 words. I really don’t think it makes sense to post this many words as jpg-files like I used to do with chapter one. Making them is a lot of work and they are hard to edit for mistakes (of which I found quite a lot when I re-read the first part
). They also unnecessarily increase bandwidth usage. Therefore I decided to post the rest of the story as normal text here in the forum. If there is Interest I will make jpgs or a pdf for download from an external site once the whole thing is completed.So, here’s the first part of chapter 2…
Chapter Two
***
Brother Philibert’s gaze fell upon the enticing curves of the naked body of Marie Blondeau. A body he knew intimately well from his nightly visits to her cell.***
“A delicious creature, this one…” Brother Guillaume said with a subtle smile that signalled that he was well aware of Brother Philibert’s shame. And he obviously wasn’t the only one, Brother Philibert thought. Jeannot, the warden that had fetched Marie from the casemates openly grinned at him as he shoved the young woman inside the torture chamber.
“You wanted the Blondeau girl, Father?” he said in a tone that barely concealed his amusement.
Brother Philibert frowned. It seemed that everyone was aware that he had broken his vow of celibacy and that he had subsequently been given a stern reprimand by Abbé Maurand. His punishment – he had to pray one hundred rosaries and feast for three days – was not even half as bad as the mockery he had to endure from the Italian mercenaries.
“Leave her with me and Brother Guillaume who will assist me today in punishing this wench,” he said, “but first take those off…” he gestured towards the heavy chains and fetters with which the girl was bound. “If you want to stay and watch after you’re done you can make yourself useful and help set up the machine. I will grease her.”
Marie still seemed breathtakingly beautiful to him. He resisted the urge to bury his face between her big breasts as he had done so often before and took the little bucket filled with pig fat instead. The girl winced as she felt the touch of the brush on the underside of her left tit. The way her lower lip slightly trembled as she quietly whimpered while he went on to smear the fat generously all over the front of her torso was so tantalizing that he felt an overwhelming urge to fuck her again right here in the torture chamber. This witch surely had him under a powerful spell just like Abbé Maurand had suspected.
Soon her greased skin glistened in the flickering light of the candles.
Marie’s eyes were fixed on the ominous contraption that stood in the middle of the torture chamber. A menacing machine made of hard wood and cast iron.
“This is one of the Baron’s famous playthings,” Brother Philibert explained to her, “I have decided that it will be the device of your punishment today and Abbé Maurand approved. He will join us later to witness your suffering.”
“I… I am thankful, Father…,” Marie whispered, “I know I need to be punished.” It sounded suspiciously apathetic to Brother Philibert, as if she were just reciting empty words.
“Indeed, you do, my dear. And we shall see if you are sincere about your wish.”
The way she stood there before him, her eyes downcast, her voice trembling and so quiet it was barely audible, one could almost think she were innocent like a virgin, Brother Philibert thought, although he knew better of course.
“You think she can take the big one, Father?” Gregor asked. He was considering which one to pick from a variety of metal phalluses sitting in a crate on the ground before him. They were finely crafted from copper and could be screwed onto the upper part of the torture machine. The one that the German torturer was holding in his hand was enormous – almost a foot long and thick as a man’s underarm.
“One of the smaller ones, I would think. But make sure it is one with sharp edges. Remember, we want to hurt her, not kill her.”
“Oh please, Father. I fear I can’t survive this.” Marie sobbed.
She was delightful in her terror, Brother Philibert thought. He felt a pang of regret that her beauty would soon be destroyed – or was it simply because he would not be able to enjoy her any longer?
“Nonsense, nothing is being inflicted on you that you can’t endure if you sincerely repent your crimes.”
He decided that her tits could use another coating of pig fat and grabbed the brush.
“Now be quiet and stick those fat udders of yours out for me, my sweet child.”
mp5stab
Hair and Nails
What beautiful hair!It is for a new victim. But Catherine will be the focus of this chapter. There will be three new pictures. The chronologically first and third one are done and I just finished the last props for the second one:
A complete re-working of Catherine's cage/cell
View attachment 1432810
...and a set of chains and fetters for Catherine
View attachment 1432811
Now there is only rendering and postwork left to do. I think I will post the first pic on the weekend. That will give those of you who were wondering how the machine works some more clues
And what a cute face! And such a detailed scene! I can't wait to see where you go with this. but I think I already have a good enough idea....Hi everyone,
I have a little problem with the texts that come with my pictures. I originally intended them to be small, vignette-like descriptions of the scene that is depicted. Something to provide a bit of context and to set the mood. Well, it turns out that once I started writing I don’t seem to be able to be brief. Those little texts grew into full fledged stories and the one I wrote for the second chapter of the Waldensian Crusade is my longest yet with over 4000 words. I really don’t think it makes sense to post this many words as jpg-files like I used to do with chapter one. Making them is a lot of work and they are hard to edit for mistakes (of which I found quite a lot when I re-read the first part
So, here’s the first part of chapter 2…
Chapter TwoBrother Philibert’s gaze fell upon the enticing curves of the naked body of Marie Blondeau. A body he knew intimately well from his nightly visits to her cell.
***
“A delicious creature, this one…” Brother Guillaume said with a subtle smile that signalled that he was well aware of Brother Philibert’s shame. And he obviously wasn’t the only one, Brother Philibert thought. Jeannot, the warden that had fetched Marie from the casemates openly grinned at him as he shoved the young woman inside the torture chamber.
“You wanted the Blondeau girl, Father?” he said in a tone that barely concealed his amusement.
Brother Philibert frowned. It seemed that everyone was aware that he had broken his vow of celibacy and that he had subsequently been given a stern reprimand by Abbé Maurand. His punishment – he had to pray one hundred rosaries and feast for three days – was not even half as bad as the mockery he had to endure from the Italian mercenaries.
“Leave her with me and Brother Guillaume who will assist me today in punishing this wench,” he said, “but first take those off…” he gestured towards the heavy chains and fetters with which the girl was bound. “If you want to stay and watch after you’re done you can make yourself useful and help set up the machine. I will grease her.”
Marie still seemed breathtakingly beautiful to him. He resisted the urge to bury his face between her big breasts as he had done so often before and took the little bucket filled with pig fat instead. The girl winced as she felt the touch of the brush on the underside of her left tit. The way her lower lip slightly trembled as she quietly whimpered while he went on to smear the fat generously all over the front of her torso was so tantalizing that he felt an overwhelming urge to fuck her again right here in the torture chamber. This witch surely had him under a powerful spell just like Abbé Maurand had suspected.
Soon her greased skin glistened in the flickering light of the candles.
Marie’s eyes were fixed on the ominous contraption that stood in the middle of the torture chamber. A menacing machine made of hard wood and cast iron.
“This is one of the Baron’s famous playthings,” Brother Philibert explained to her, “I have decided that it will be the device of your punishment today and Abbé Maurand approved. He will join us later to witness your suffering.”
“I… I am thankful, Father…,” Marie whispered, “I know I need to be punished.” It sounded suspiciously apathetic to Brother Philibert, as if she were just reciting empty words.
“Indeed, you do, my dear. And we shall see if you are sincere about your wish.”
The way she stood there before him, her eyes downcast, her voice trembling and so quiet it was barely audible, one could almost think she were innocent like a virgin, Brother Philibert thought, although he knew better of course.
“You think she can take the big one, Father?” Gregor asked. He was considering which one to pick from a variety of metal phalluses sitting in a crate on the ground before him. They were finely crafted from copper and could be screwed onto the upper part of the torture machine. The one that the German torturer was holding in his hand was enormous – almost a foot long and thick as a man’s underarm.
“One of the smaller ones, I would think. But make sure it is one with sharp edges. Remember, we want to hurt her, not kill her.”
“Oh please, Father. I fear I can’t survive this.” Marie sobbed.
She was delightful in her terror, Brother Philibert thought. He felt a pang of regret that her beauty would soon be destroyed – or was it simply because he would not be able to enjoy her any longer?
“Nonsense, nothing is being inflicted on you that you can’t endure if you sincerely repent your crimes.”
He decided that her tits could use another coating of pig fat and grabbed the brush.
“Now be quiet and stick those fat udders of yours out for me, my sweet child.”
View attachment 1433989
tan2000
Executioner
A
Awesome new story and it's a good start too! Btw did I missed the chapter one?
Riodoro
Executioner
Thanks! The first chapter was posted as jpg-files ("Riodoro Crusade 01.jpg" - "Riodoro Crusade 12.jpg") at the beginning of this thread.
tan2000
Executioner
Ah I see, just realize this is the continuation of the previous Crusade, thanks!
Riodoro
Executioner
Yes, I'm sorry that it's a bit confusing. The new pic should have been named "Riodoro Crusade 13.jpg" instead of "Inq4-03.jpg". I forgot to change that. The next pics will at least have the same name as the ones from chapter one.
tan2000
Executioner
No worries, looking forward for more of chapter 2
mster
Guard
Fantastic. Marie's expression is perfect and very significant. I can't wait to see how this toy works ps. In my opinion you should also write as well as draw.pss. This is absolutely not meant to be a criticism, you know how much I respect and admire you, but aren't Marie's feet a little big?
ps. In my opinion you should also write as well as draw.pss. This is absolutely not meant to be a criticism, you know how much I respect and admire you, but aren't Marie's feet a little big?
Riodoro
Executioner
Fantastic. Marie's expression is perfect and very significant. I can't wait to see how this toy works
Hmm, I personaly don't really see it. You can change the size of the feet in Poser with so called "morphs", but I left it unchanged in this case which means that her feet should be more or less the anatomicaly correct size. That doesn't mean that your impression is wrong. Those things are always a bit subjective. Marie's body is rather small with wide hips, big breasts and short legs, which may make her feet look bigger than those of a taller and slimmer woman. Or maybe it's a perspective thing. BTW please don't think that you have to hold back. I very much welcome constructive criticism of my pics like that. I mainly make them for my own pleasure, but I share them here hoping to get feedback. It is really great that other people care about the pics enough to notice and point out things like that!
Marie's facial expression turned out quite well here, I agree. This is in my experience one of the things that have a big impact on the overall "mood" of a picture. I wish I could do it as well as Arcas did. He is in my opinion the absolute best among 3d-Artists when it comes to expressive facial expressions.
wulf
God-Emperor
I have to agree with that. His facial expressions were detailed, right down to the bloodshot eyes, that you could really see the victims fatigue and endless suffering. He was a true master of that.
Riodoro
Executioner
Here's the next part:
“Come now, Madame, it is time.”
Catherine Tournier looked up. Through the thick metal bars she could see one of the Dominicans, a heavyset, middle aged man with a stern face and bushy eyebrows who watched her with cold disgust. She realized that her face was streaked with tears. She had been crying a lot in the hours she had spent crouched in this tiny cell that was not much bigger than a cage.
When the torture of Marguerite had finally ended after a horrifyingly long time, they had left Catherine alone in the dark chamber. Without the heat from the brazier the dungeon had become chillingly cold and soon Catherine had found herself shivering and miserable. Just being forced to sit on the board with the metal studs was more painful than anything she had ever experienced before, and after some time the pain from her back and legs became even worse. Still, this was not real torture and not even close to the agonies she had seen poor Marguerite endure. She was embarrassed that even this little had been enough to make her loose her composure.
The monk didn’t seem to care though.
“My name is Brother Guillaume,” he said while he unlocked the grate and opened her cell, “Abbé Maurand awaits you.”
“I see, Father. Please, how long has it been? How long was I in there?”
The monk smirked, maybe he was amused by her question, but it was hard to say.
“It is not long past the hour of the evening prayer.”
“Still early in the evening,” Catherine said in astonishment more to herself than to Brother Guillaume. It had felt like days to her, not mere hours.
“The Abbé will question you tonight. You understand what that means, don’t you, Madame?”
“I do.” She had known it from the moment of her arrest. Her fate was to be the fate of the martyrs. At the time she had almost welcomed it. To die for the rightful faith while spitting in the face of those popish hounds in their black robes seemed like a noble thing. But now, as she felt the cold hard iron chains on her bare skin, her mind was filled with fear.
The cramped muscles in Catherine’s legs hurt terribly. When she got up she almost stumbled, but she managed to follow Brother Guillaume as he led her through the chamber and past the cruel torture rack.
Marguerite was still there. A quick glance at her was all Catherine could bear: flesh terribly mangled and burned, arms and legs twisted, maybe broken. She gasped and looked away.
“Is… is the poor girl dead?”
Brother Guillaume seemed surprised by the question, as if he noticed the naked body lying on the torture machine for the first time.
“No, they stopped when she fainted again and Captain Polin’s barber couldn’t wake her up, but she was still breathing.”
“I’m… glad…”
“Why?” the Dominican laughed. “It doesn’t matter much. She’ll go to the stake anyway.”
Catherine had no good answer to that.
Brother Guillaume gave the chain that was connected to the iron collar around her neck a tug. As he led her like a dog on a leash through a dark corridor and down a spiral stairwell deeper inside the horrifying dungeon, she finally said,
“I will pray for the girl’s soul.”
“Do that, Madame, but don’t forget to pray for your own as well.”
***
“Come now, Madame, it is time.”
Catherine Tournier looked up. Through the thick metal bars she could see one of the Dominicans, a heavyset, middle aged man with a stern face and bushy eyebrows who watched her with cold disgust. She realized that her face was streaked with tears. She had been crying a lot in the hours she had spent crouched in this tiny cell that was not much bigger than a cage.
When the torture of Marguerite had finally ended after a horrifyingly long time, they had left Catherine alone in the dark chamber. Without the heat from the brazier the dungeon had become chillingly cold and soon Catherine had found herself shivering and miserable. Just being forced to sit on the board with the metal studs was more painful than anything she had ever experienced before, and after some time the pain from her back and legs became even worse. Still, this was not real torture and not even close to the agonies she had seen poor Marguerite endure. She was embarrassed that even this little had been enough to make her loose her composure.
The monk didn’t seem to care though.
“My name is Brother Guillaume,” he said while he unlocked the grate and opened her cell, “Abbé Maurand awaits you.”
“I see, Father. Please, how long has it been? How long was I in there?”
The monk smirked, maybe he was amused by her question, but it was hard to say.
“It is not long past the hour of the evening prayer.”
“Still early in the evening,” Catherine said in astonishment more to herself than to Brother Guillaume. It had felt like days to her, not mere hours.
“The Abbé will question you tonight. You understand what that means, don’t you, Madame?”
“I do.” She had known it from the moment of her arrest. Her fate was to be the fate of the martyrs. At the time she had almost welcomed it. To die for the rightful faith while spitting in the face of those popish hounds in their black robes seemed like a noble thing. But now, as she felt the cold hard iron chains on her bare skin, her mind was filled with fear.
The cramped muscles in Catherine’s legs hurt terribly. When she got up she almost stumbled, but she managed to follow Brother Guillaume as he led her through the chamber and past the cruel torture rack.
Marguerite was still there. A quick glance at her was all Catherine could bear: flesh terribly mangled and burned, arms and legs twisted, maybe broken. She gasped and looked away.
“Is… is the poor girl dead?”
Brother Guillaume seemed surprised by the question, as if he noticed the naked body lying on the torture machine for the first time.
“No, they stopped when she fainted again and Captain Polin’s barber couldn’t wake her up, but she was still breathing.”
“I’m… glad…”
“Why?” the Dominican laughed. “It doesn’t matter much. She’ll go to the stake anyway.”
Catherine had no good answer to that.
Brother Guillaume gave the chain that was connected to the iron collar around her neck a tug. As he led her like a dog on a leash through a dark corridor and down a spiral stairwell deeper inside the horrifying dungeon, she finally said,
“I will pray for the girl’s soul.”
“Do that, Madame, but don’t forget to pray for your own as well.”
Loving those heavy chains!
Riodoro
Executioner
Here is the next part. It'll be some time before the story continues after this. I'm working on new pics in this series but they will not be done for a while.
The sounds and smell of the torture chamber – the muffled screams, the desperate moaning, the stench of sweat and smoke and hot metal – were not as much of a shock to Catherine as before. ‘I’m becoming acquainted to this hell’ she thought sadly as Brother Guillaume led her into one of the spacious dungeons deep under the north tower of Castle Barroux. When they entered she saw Abbé Maurand, with him were another Dominican named Brother Philibert, who had the look of a kind old Grandfather but seemed to be a lecherous monster, and some of the torturers she already knew: Giobatta, Gregor and Aurelio.
Behind them and partly obscured by the black-robed figures of the monks, there was a naked body screaming and squirming in pain.
Abbé Maurand turned to them as they approached him. “Ah, the Tournier woman,” he exclaimed. “Bring her closer!”
Brother Guillaume pushed Catherine forward.
„Have a good look at this, Madame, for this is a torture you might suffer as well before you leave this place.” Abbé Maurand said.
Catherine looked at the writhing naked body of the young woman. She hung upside down from a sturdy pole, her feet were fixed to it with thick metal shackles, her knees were cruelly bent around poles studded with sharp spikes. With the help of a yoke-like contraption around her neck and a metal frame to which her arms were chained, her body was forced into an arc so that the unprotected underside of her torso was held almost horizontal. There were only inches between her dangling voluptuous breasts and the mass of red hot burning coals inside a brazier below them.
The torturers were observing the convulsions and screams of their victim attentively. From time to time the lanky moustached man she knew as Giobatta was adjusting the position of the brazier ever so slightly, so that the column of hot air was focused on a different part of the girl’s breasts. The hunchbacked Aurelio was standing behind the machine, casually holding a lever, smiling his usual cruel smile, and Gregor, the German torturer, was sitting on a stool with a bellows in his hands.
“Giobatta, give the sinner a break and let her udders cool a little, they will be more sensitive to the heat once we continue.”
“Yes, Father.”
The torturer pushed the brazier slightly forward, only three inches or so, but it was enough so that the girl’s breasts were no longer exposed to the heat. As the terrible pain slowly subsided to a dull aching her screams gradually died down to exhausted sobbing.
Abbé Maurand brushed some of the sweat-soaked long brown hair out of the girl’s face.
“This one’s name is Marie, like our holy virgin mother.”
Marie was desperately trying to cope with the pain. Between her sobs she was breathing heavily through gritted teeth.
“Hers is a tragic case,” the Abbé continued. “She sinned gravely, but unlike you she never renounced the embrace of the true catholic faith. So I have every hope that the gates of heaven are not closed to her as long as she is sufficiently chastened without misguided leniency. You see, I almost made a mistake with this one. I misjudged the depth of her depravity for she hid it well behind this pretty appearance. Her parish priest noticed that she missed Sunday mass several times, she also dressed in lewd and immodest clothes, so he suspected her to be a heretic and denounced her to the Inquisition. I took it upon myself to interrogate her and found her a sinful creature like all women but not a heretic. This is where I almost failed in my vigilance. I was about to send her back to her village with just a light sentencing, one dozen lashes and six hours in the pillory. But two days ago Brother Philibert admitted to me in confession that Marie had seduced him and had made him commit shameful sins that are a disgrace to a man of the cloth.”
The white-haired monk flushed like a schoolgirl and turned away from Catherine, a sight she found ridiculous.
“That was when I realized my mistake, and I corrected it,” the Abbé continued. “Marie will stay here with us and will be punished appropriate to the enormity of her transgressions to save her soul from eternal damnation, and Brother Philibert has as a repentance been tasked with torturing the supple flesh that proved so irresistible to his weak mind. He chose this machine to be Marie’s first ordeal. Do you want to know how it works?”
“I can see enough…” Catherine said.
“Oh no, I want you to understand exactly what we are capable of. Aurelio, explain it to Madame!”
The hunchbacked torturer smirked at Catherine. She could see the lust in his eyes as he brazenly gazed at her naked form.
“Well, you can see that her tits are roasted over the coals. Not much to explain there, really. The pig fat is there so that the flesh doesn’t burn up too soon, it doesn’t help with the pain though. There’s also a copper-rod stuck inside her asshole. A big one, Madame, thick like a wine bottle and with nasty spikes an’ ridges. Gettin’ it inside is always tricky but you really only need the first couple o’ inches. You see, in the beginning when a girl’s tits first feel the flames she tries to get away from the heat, so she struggles and wriggles and fucks herself deeper and deeper in the arse with the rod. They all do, it’s really funny.”
He giggled.
“But it’s all for nothin’”, Giobatta added with an evil grin. “The rod’s getting hot too, you see? It takes a while but she’ll feel it soon enough. ‘Cause the tank here on the other side warms up and the water inside as well. When it’s boiling we start blowing steam inside her, right up her guts. So it is an attack from both sides, so to say.”
The two men shared a coarse laugh.
Catherine shivered as a wave of terror overwhelmed her for a moment. But then she forced herself to calm and she remembered the vows she had made to her husband that night only three weeks ago when they had received holy communion together for a last time… before her fateful journey north.
“It is an abomination. How can someone who calls himself Christian invent such a terrible machine?”
“The Turks made it, and they ain’t no Christians, aren’t they?” Giobatta snorted with amusement. Now all the torturers were laughing.
Catherine darted a disdainful look at him. “And yet you employ it.”
“We do, Madame,” Abbé Maurand said, “because it is proven to be very effective. I agree with you that this machine is evil but in the hands of the church it serves a noble purpose.”
Now Catherine laughed bitterly. “I'm sure the poor woman understands such refined sophistry.”
“She may not,” the Abbé admitted. “But do not think me without compassion, Madame. It pains me to inflict such a harsh treatment on her but it is fitting given the enormity of her sins and the girl herself has asked me to do it when threatened with excommunication.”
He grabbed Marie’s chin and lifted her head up so that Catherine could look into the her tear-filled brown eyes.
“Isn’t that right, my child?”
“Yes, Father… yes, I need to be punished… but please not this! I can’t bear it, Father…”
Abbé Maurad sighed. “Again you relapse. In your perversity you forget that there is but one way to salvation left for you. Remember, what seems unbearable to you is just a meek reflection of the eternal flames that await you if your repentance is not sincere.”
“You don’t understand, Father,” Marie wailed, “it is too much! My poor titties hurt so much!”
This made the torturers laugh again.
“Yes,” Abbé Maurand exclaimed, “and you should welcome it! The pain will cleanse your depraved soul. Tell Madame Tournier how much it hurts, my dear.”
“It hurts, it hurts so much, it’s terrible, I… I can’t stand it, Father.”
“Oh, but you must! Your real ordeal has not even started. Right about now you should feel the phallus in your rectum heating up. Do you?”
“I… I don’t know what..?”
“Oh, the innocence!” Abbé Maurand laughed. “What’s sticking there in your behind and filling it up so completely and painfully is getting hotter, is it not?”
Marie paused, as if she were realizing the complete horror of the torture for the first time.
“Oh, god, oh, no… no…”
“Now you see that we chose this torture carefully to mirror your sins, my child. For did you not confess to me that it was there that you let Brother Philibert penetrate you? Did you not use those abnormally large breasts of yours to entice the poor man? And is it not only right and proper that those sinful places shall suffer the most.”
Marie started sobbing again.
Abbé Maurand gave a nod to the torturers.
“Let her feel the heat, Giobatta,”
“Please no - oh no, please…” As soon as the torturer placed the brazier back directly under the rose coloured puffy tips of Marie's dangling breasts she began to hyperventilate in abject panic.
Abbé Maurand gave a nod to the burly German torturer who was sitting directly in front of the writhing girl. Gregor blew the bellows through the metal framework of the brazier and the mass of burning coals became almost white hot. Marie struggled in helpless terror but her cruel bondage didn’t allow for much movement, her big tits swung violently from side to side, spraying droplets of sweat onto the burning coals but they couldn’t escape the column of searing heat.
“No… no… please… so hot… oh, Jesus… Jesus help me,” she screeched with a shrill wail.
“Silence!” Abbé Maurand shouted. He held a crucifix up in front of Marie’s face. “It is good that you turn to Him in your desperation, but do not utter His holy name with your blasphemous tongue!”
Agonized panicked screaming was the only answer he got.
Abbé Maurand shook his head in frustration.
“Aurelio, it is time for the steam, I think. Just one short burst for the beginning.”
“Yes, Father.” The hunchbacked torturer smiled as he turned the lever that opened the valve of the steam tank. Catherine could hear a sharp hissing. Marie’s whole body tensed as if she were having a seizure. She was strangely still for a moment and then she screamed a scream of utmost anguish.
Catherine watched in horror. What Abbé Maurand had called a short burst seemed to last forever. And even when Aurelio closed the valve after fifteen or twenty excruciating seconds and the hissing stopped, the demented screams did not.
Catherine felt a tug on the chain around her neck.
“Come now, Madame. You have seen enough and I have to bring you to your own place of torment now,” Brother Guillaume said.
“The poor girl,” Catherine said as she was led away from the torture chamber. For a moment she had forgotten all about her own miserable situation. “What a terrible martyrdom she has to endure!”
“Don’t let Abbé Maurand hear you compare this wench or yourself to the holy martyrs,” Brother Guillaume said, “but I agree, it is a brutal punishment.”
“Will she have to suffer long?”
“From what I have seen from this torture I would say she has about two hours left.”
“So long?” Catherine exclaimed in horror.
“Well, you see, her torture has barely started. With a big titted girl like that, or for that matter like you, Madame, it takes some time for the heat to burn deep enough into the flesh to reach the really sensitive parts, especially when the tits are greased. In half an hour or so, when her milk ducts are beginning to roast and eventually burst one after the other, her pain will truly become unbearable.”
“I see,” Catherine said numbly.
“And she has barely felt the steam yet. It will be applied in short bursts like the one you’ve witnessed, every time Abbé Maurand thinks that her pain level should be increased. Every burst will burn and scald her rectum and the steam will expand inside her, stretching her intestines. In an hour or so she will look nine month pregnant with all the water and hot air in her belly. And her tits will be swollen to double their original size and leaking fat and other fluids like a pig roast. Like I said, I’ve seen it before and it is truly a spectacular thing to see.”
Catherine said nothing. She felt sick. But Brother Guillaume went on merrily chatting as if he were talking about something completely ordinary.
“I would assume that only then Abbé Maurand will grant her the mercy of his questions. She will have the chance to add to her confession and if the Abbé is in a gracious mood he might accept it. If not, well, there’s always other ways to make her suffer more.”
“Such barbarity!” Catherine shuddered. The righteous outrage she felt towards these monstrous men was still there, but as she saw that the Dominican was merely grinning at her indignation, she suddenly felt completely helpless. Her heart sank. She was naked and in chains and in the hands of her enemies who would do horrendous things to her.
***
The sounds and smell of the torture chamber – the muffled screams, the desperate moaning, the stench of sweat and smoke and hot metal – were not as much of a shock to Catherine as before. ‘I’m becoming acquainted to this hell’ she thought sadly as Brother Guillaume led her into one of the spacious dungeons deep under the north tower of Castle Barroux. When they entered she saw Abbé Maurand, with him were another Dominican named Brother Philibert, who had the look of a kind old Grandfather but seemed to be a lecherous monster, and some of the torturers she already knew: Giobatta, Gregor and Aurelio.
Behind them and partly obscured by the black-robed figures of the monks, there was a naked body screaming and squirming in pain.
Abbé Maurand turned to them as they approached him. “Ah, the Tournier woman,” he exclaimed. “Bring her closer!”
Brother Guillaume pushed Catherine forward.
„Have a good look at this, Madame, for this is a torture you might suffer as well before you leave this place.” Abbé Maurand said.
Catherine looked at the writhing naked body of the young woman. She hung upside down from a sturdy pole, her feet were fixed to it with thick metal shackles, her knees were cruelly bent around poles studded with sharp spikes. With the help of a yoke-like contraption around her neck and a metal frame to which her arms were chained, her body was forced into an arc so that the unprotected underside of her torso was held almost horizontal. There were only inches between her dangling voluptuous breasts and the mass of red hot burning coals inside a brazier below them.
The torturers were observing the convulsions and screams of their victim attentively. From time to time the lanky moustached man she knew as Giobatta was adjusting the position of the brazier ever so slightly, so that the column of hot air was focused on a different part of the girl’s breasts. The hunchbacked Aurelio was standing behind the machine, casually holding a lever, smiling his usual cruel smile, and Gregor, the German torturer, was sitting on a stool with a bellows in his hands.
“Giobatta, give the sinner a break and let her udders cool a little, they will be more sensitive to the heat once we continue.”
“Yes, Father.”
The torturer pushed the brazier slightly forward, only three inches or so, but it was enough so that the girl’s breasts were no longer exposed to the heat. As the terrible pain slowly subsided to a dull aching her screams gradually died down to exhausted sobbing.
Abbé Maurand brushed some of the sweat-soaked long brown hair out of the girl’s face.
“This one’s name is Marie, like our holy virgin mother.”
Marie was desperately trying to cope with the pain. Between her sobs she was breathing heavily through gritted teeth.
“Hers is a tragic case,” the Abbé continued. “She sinned gravely, but unlike you she never renounced the embrace of the true catholic faith. So I have every hope that the gates of heaven are not closed to her as long as she is sufficiently chastened without misguided leniency. You see, I almost made a mistake with this one. I misjudged the depth of her depravity for she hid it well behind this pretty appearance. Her parish priest noticed that she missed Sunday mass several times, she also dressed in lewd and immodest clothes, so he suspected her to be a heretic and denounced her to the Inquisition. I took it upon myself to interrogate her and found her a sinful creature like all women but not a heretic. This is where I almost failed in my vigilance. I was about to send her back to her village with just a light sentencing, one dozen lashes and six hours in the pillory. But two days ago Brother Philibert admitted to me in confession that Marie had seduced him and had made him commit shameful sins that are a disgrace to a man of the cloth.”
The white-haired monk flushed like a schoolgirl and turned away from Catherine, a sight she found ridiculous.
“That was when I realized my mistake, and I corrected it,” the Abbé continued. “Marie will stay here with us and will be punished appropriate to the enormity of her transgressions to save her soul from eternal damnation, and Brother Philibert has as a repentance been tasked with torturing the supple flesh that proved so irresistible to his weak mind. He chose this machine to be Marie’s first ordeal. Do you want to know how it works?”
“I can see enough…” Catherine said.
“Oh no, I want you to understand exactly what we are capable of. Aurelio, explain it to Madame!”
The hunchbacked torturer smirked at Catherine. She could see the lust in his eyes as he brazenly gazed at her naked form.
“Well, you can see that her tits are roasted over the coals. Not much to explain there, really. The pig fat is there so that the flesh doesn’t burn up too soon, it doesn’t help with the pain though. There’s also a copper-rod stuck inside her asshole. A big one, Madame, thick like a wine bottle and with nasty spikes an’ ridges. Gettin’ it inside is always tricky but you really only need the first couple o’ inches. You see, in the beginning when a girl’s tits first feel the flames she tries to get away from the heat, so she struggles and wriggles and fucks herself deeper and deeper in the arse with the rod. They all do, it’s really funny.”
He giggled.
“But it’s all for nothin’”, Giobatta added with an evil grin. “The rod’s getting hot too, you see? It takes a while but she’ll feel it soon enough. ‘Cause the tank here on the other side warms up and the water inside as well. When it’s boiling we start blowing steam inside her, right up her guts. So it is an attack from both sides, so to say.”
The two men shared a coarse laugh.
***
Catherine shivered as a wave of terror overwhelmed her for a moment. But then she forced herself to calm and she remembered the vows she had made to her husband that night only three weeks ago when they had received holy communion together for a last time… before her fateful journey north.
“It is an abomination. How can someone who calls himself Christian invent such a terrible machine?”
“The Turks made it, and they ain’t no Christians, aren’t they?” Giobatta snorted with amusement. Now all the torturers were laughing.
Catherine darted a disdainful look at him. “And yet you employ it.”
“We do, Madame,” Abbé Maurand said, “because it is proven to be very effective. I agree with you that this machine is evil but in the hands of the church it serves a noble purpose.”
Now Catherine laughed bitterly. “I'm sure the poor woman understands such refined sophistry.”
“She may not,” the Abbé admitted. “But do not think me without compassion, Madame. It pains me to inflict such a harsh treatment on her but it is fitting given the enormity of her sins and the girl herself has asked me to do it when threatened with excommunication.”
He grabbed Marie’s chin and lifted her head up so that Catherine could look into the her tear-filled brown eyes.
“Isn’t that right, my child?”
“Yes, Father… yes, I need to be punished… but please not this! I can’t bear it, Father…”
Abbé Maurad sighed. “Again you relapse. In your perversity you forget that there is but one way to salvation left for you. Remember, what seems unbearable to you is just a meek reflection of the eternal flames that await you if your repentance is not sincere.”
“You don’t understand, Father,” Marie wailed, “it is too much! My poor titties hurt so much!”
This made the torturers laugh again.
“Yes,” Abbé Maurand exclaimed, “and you should welcome it! The pain will cleanse your depraved soul. Tell Madame Tournier how much it hurts, my dear.”
“It hurts, it hurts so much, it’s terrible, I… I can’t stand it, Father.”
“Oh, but you must! Your real ordeal has not even started. Right about now you should feel the phallus in your rectum heating up. Do you?”
“I… I don’t know what..?”
“Oh, the innocence!” Abbé Maurand laughed. “What’s sticking there in your behind and filling it up so completely and painfully is getting hotter, is it not?”
Marie paused, as if she were realizing the complete horror of the torture for the first time.
“Oh, god, oh, no… no…”
“Now you see that we chose this torture carefully to mirror your sins, my child. For did you not confess to me that it was there that you let Brother Philibert penetrate you? Did you not use those abnormally large breasts of yours to entice the poor man? And is it not only right and proper that those sinful places shall suffer the most.”
Marie started sobbing again.
Abbé Maurand gave a nod to the torturers.
“Let her feel the heat, Giobatta,”
“Please no - oh no, please…” As soon as the torturer placed the brazier back directly under the rose coloured puffy tips of Marie's dangling breasts she began to hyperventilate in abject panic.
Abbé Maurand gave a nod to the burly German torturer who was sitting directly in front of the writhing girl. Gregor blew the bellows through the metal framework of the brazier and the mass of burning coals became almost white hot. Marie struggled in helpless terror but her cruel bondage didn’t allow for much movement, her big tits swung violently from side to side, spraying droplets of sweat onto the burning coals but they couldn’t escape the column of searing heat.
“No… no… please… so hot… oh, Jesus… Jesus help me,” she screeched with a shrill wail.
“Silence!” Abbé Maurand shouted. He held a crucifix up in front of Marie’s face. “It is good that you turn to Him in your desperation, but do not utter His holy name with your blasphemous tongue!”
Agonized panicked screaming was the only answer he got.
Abbé Maurand shook his head in frustration.
“Aurelio, it is time for the steam, I think. Just one short burst for the beginning.”
“Yes, Father.” The hunchbacked torturer smiled as he turned the lever that opened the valve of the steam tank. Catherine could hear a sharp hissing. Marie’s whole body tensed as if she were having a seizure. She was strangely still for a moment and then she screamed a scream of utmost anguish.
Catherine watched in horror. What Abbé Maurand had called a short burst seemed to last forever. And even when Aurelio closed the valve after fifteen or twenty excruciating seconds and the hissing stopped, the demented screams did not.
***
Catherine felt a tug on the chain around her neck.
“Come now, Madame. You have seen enough and I have to bring you to your own place of torment now,” Brother Guillaume said.
“The poor girl,” Catherine said as she was led away from the torture chamber. For a moment she had forgotten all about her own miserable situation. “What a terrible martyrdom she has to endure!”
“Don’t let Abbé Maurand hear you compare this wench or yourself to the holy martyrs,” Brother Guillaume said, “but I agree, it is a brutal punishment.”
“Will she have to suffer long?”
“From what I have seen from this torture I would say she has about two hours left.”
“So long?” Catherine exclaimed in horror.
“Well, you see, her torture has barely started. With a big titted girl like that, or for that matter like you, Madame, it takes some time for the heat to burn deep enough into the flesh to reach the really sensitive parts, especially when the tits are greased. In half an hour or so, when her milk ducts are beginning to roast and eventually burst one after the other, her pain will truly become unbearable.”
“I see,” Catherine said numbly.
“And she has barely felt the steam yet. It will be applied in short bursts like the one you’ve witnessed, every time Abbé Maurand thinks that her pain level should be increased. Every burst will burn and scald her rectum and the steam will expand inside her, stretching her intestines. In an hour or so she will look nine month pregnant with all the water and hot air in her belly. And her tits will be swollen to double their original size and leaking fat and other fluids like a pig roast. Like I said, I’ve seen it before and it is truly a spectacular thing to see.”
Catherine said nothing. She felt sick. But Brother Guillaume went on merrily chatting as if he were talking about something completely ordinary.
“I would assume that only then Abbé Maurand will grant her the mercy of his questions. She will have the chance to add to her confession and if the Abbé is in a gracious mood he might accept it. If not, well, there’s always other ways to make her suffer more.”
“Such barbarity!” Catherine shuddered. The righteous outrage she felt towards these monstrous men was still there, but as she saw that the Dominican was merely grinning at her indignation, she suddenly felt completely helpless. Her heart sank. She was naked and in chains and in the hands of her enemies who would do horrendous things to her.