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The Knight And The Gnostic

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Hold onto your hats, things are about to get more serious!


Episode 13

Arnaud's man Bernard stands before Barbara, ready to begin the first test of her will to resist. He has stoked up the fire in a small tripod mounted brazier and has removed nearly all of his clothing. Sweat runs off his burly naked torso. The firelight dances over the woman's bare body, casting shadows of very interesting shape, hiding and revealing her features.

The Abbot watches with keen anticipation, while the other men flanking the Abbot cannot restrain their smiles. I stand to one side, amazed by her strength of character, her bravery in the face of this awful danger. She stands straight in her bonds, chin up, facing the threat. Her breasts sway gently as she seeks a comfortable stance, her face radiates stoic acceptance of what is coming. I am draw into her face, but my eyes wander lower, over the curves of her belly and what lies beneath. May God forgive me I am weak!

Bernard waits on the Abbot for the word to commence.
"Woman, this is your last chance. Renounce your heresy and accept your error. Speak now and I will send you to your maker cleanly and with compassion. What do you say?"

Barbara looks at him with scorn, turning her head away. I grit my teeth in anticipation. Then she speaks, her voice low and level. "Abbot Arnaud you are in league with the other God of my faith, the God of evil. And this contest of wills ... yours versus mine ... is a contest between our respective versions of the true Christian faith. You shall not win. You cannot force me to renounce my heresy or accept my error, because I possess neither! My only failing is to have drawn my innocent charges ... the young perfecti girls ... into this maelstrom of violence and indecency! Only that do I regret, and beg you to spare them any more humiliations or horrors. Turn your vengeful hate and instruments of torture on me, and me alone."

"Very well. My Lord de Flebas, you may have the honour of persuading our guest of her error. Take the iron if you please, and tickle her with it."

The monster! He means to punish me for my rebellion earlier, my attempt to save the perfecti. I cannot refuse him, it would be doom for both of us, and for many of my followers if I were to be denounced, though for a moment I am sorely tempted.

Keeping my eyes on the lady I step forward, taking up the iron and moving to within easy reach of her delicate body. She is so vulnerable, so beautiful, her pride slipping away momentarily as the iron draws near.

"Forgive me."

She nods, once, closing her eyes, trembling visibly.

"Her breasts! Roast the whore's teats!" screams the most holy Papal Legate in a fury of righteous anger and lust.

Barbara flinches away as the glowing instrument draws near, there is a pause, then her smooth pale flesh meets unforgiving hot iron.

Barbara de Moore 011b.jpg
 
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phlebas said:
Hold onto your hats, things are about to get more serious!


Episode 13

Arnaud's man Bernard stands before Barbara, ready to begin the first test of her will to resist. He has stoked up the fire in a small tripod mounted brazier and has removed nearly all of his clothing. Sweat runs off his burly naked torso. The firelight dances over the woman's bare body, casting shadows of very interesting shape, hiding and revealing her features.

The Abbot watches with keen anticipation, while the other men flanking the Abbot cannot restrain their smiles. I stand to one side, amazed by her strength of character, her bravery in the face of this awful danger. She stands straight in her bonds, chin up, facing the threat. Her breasts sway gently as she seeks a comfortable stance, her face radiates stoic acceptance of what is coming. I am draw into her face, but my eyes wander lower, over the curves of her belly and what lies beneath. May God forgive me I am weak!

Bernard waits on the Abbot for the word to commence.
"Woman, this is your last chance. Renounce your heresy and accept your error. Speak now and I will send you to your maker cleanly and with compassion. What do you say?"

Barbara looks at him with scorn, turning her head away. I grit my teeth in anticipation. Then she speaks, her voice low and level. "Abbot Arnaud you are in league with the other God of my faith, the God of evil. And this contest of wills ... yours versus mine ... is a contest between our respective versions of the true Christian faith. You shall not win. You cannot force me to renounce my heresy or accept my error, because I possess neither! My only failing is to have drawn my innocent charges ... the young perfecti girls ... into this maelstrom of violence and indecency! Only that do I regret, and beg you to spare them any more humiliations or horrors. Turn your vengeful hate and instruments of torture on me, and me alone."

"Very well. My Lord de Flebas, you may have the honour of persuading our guest of her error. Take the iron if you please, and tickle her with it."

The monster! He means to punish me for my rebellion earlier, my attempt to save the perfecti. I cannot refuse him, it would be doom for both of us, and for many of my followers if I were to be denounced, though for a moment I am sorely tempted.

Keeping my eyes on the lady I step forward, taking up the iron and moving to within easy reach of her delicate body. She is so vulnerable, so beautiful, her pride slipping away momentarily as the iron draws near.

"Forgive me."

She nods, once, closing her eyes, trembling visibly.

"Her breasts! Roast the whore's teats!" screams the most holy Papal Legate in a fury of righteous anger and lust.

Barbara flinches away as the glowing instrument draws near, there is a pause, then her smooth pale flesh meets unforgiving hot iron.

View attachment 394630
Click to expand...
Great writing Phlebas.
Roasting her perfect breasts? Oh, no!:eek::eek::eek::eek::eek:
 
Episode 14

d8a63c0069d90e61ae79151fe6d4d756.jpg
Oh, how utterly diabolical. The cunning Abbot, Arnaud, is testing my protector, de Flebas ... forcing him to apply the red hot iron to my bare breast!

I am horrified! Somehow, somewhere I must find the strength to endure this! I cannot show any sign of weakness .. Not even s whimper, much less a scream.

I close my eyes and brace myself, the Abbot's frenzied demand, "Her Breasts! Roast the whore's teats!" ringing in my ears.

But I can sense de Flebas' hesitancy. He doesn't really want to see me tortured, much less does he want to be the one who puts the hot iron to me. Or doesn't he?

I open one eye. His face is impassive, and he has taken the iron in his hand, holding it high. It glows orange-red at the tip, and I can feel the intense heat as he lowers it to the level of my breasts.

The cold dank air in the chamber has made my nipples swell and stand erect ... perfect targets, I fear, for the coming ordeal. The very thought of that hot iron pressed into the crinkly flesh of my tender nipples is almost more than I can bear, yet I keep reminding myself that I must withstand it ... I don't know how, but I must somehow!

De Flebas appears to be stalling now. He brandishes the iron, waving it back and forth, but does nothing to advance the glowing tip toward my quaking body.

The Abbot is on his feet again ... red in the face ... thoroughly enraged ... impatiently repeating his demand ... "Her Breasts! Roast the whore's teats!"

De Flebas' eyes grow steely. He has no choice! He thrusts the iron slowly forward. The heat already sears my flesh, even though the iron is still some distance away. I begin to shake uncontrollably. My breasts wobble and sway as I reflexively suck in my breath and twist left and right in a vain attempt to draw my chest away from the heat. Sweat runs down my forehead to sting my eyes. I am backed up tight against the clammy cold wall.

Why is he slow? I can't look any longer! I turn my head aside to avert my gaze from that spell-binding awful glowing tip, but I still can't help but follow it's approach out of the corner of my eye.

Barbara de Moore 015b.jpg
Here it comes. This is it! He is aiming low ... not at my nipples, but at the smooth pale flesh of the underside of my upraised left breast!

Dear God in Heaven give me the strength!!
 
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I can understand how De Flebas must feel. The guilt and utter disgust at what he must do and how that bastard Abbot Arnaud forcing him to carry out this grim task for his own sick amusement. But De Flebas's hesitation is only making the torture worse. Oh my poor, poor sweet, Barbara. Your so brave to endure such cruelty and yet this only sample of what's to come. You don't deserve this fate.
 
Barbaria1 said:
Episode 14

View attachment 394661 Oh, how utterly diabolical. The cunning Abbot, Arnaud, is testing my protector, de Flebas ... forcing him to apply the red hot iron to my bare breast!

I am horrified! Somehow, somewhere I must find the strength to endure this! I cannot show any sign of weakness .. Not even s whimper, much less a scream.

I close my eyes and brace myself, the Abbot's frenzied demand, "Her Breasts! Roast the whore's teats!" ringing in my ears.

But I can sense de Flebas' hesitancy. He doesn't really want to see me tortured, much less does he want to be the one who puts the hot iron to me. Or doesn't he?

I open one eye. His face is impassive, and he has taken the iron in his hand, holding it high. It glows orange-red at the tip, and I can feel the intense heat as he lowers it to the level of my breasts.

The cold dank air in the chamber has made my nipples swell and stand erect ... perfect targets, I fear, for the coming ordeal. The very thought of that hot iron pressed into the crinkly flesh of my tender nipples is almost more than I can bear, yet I keep reminding myself that I must withstand it ... I don't know how, but I must somehow!

De Flebas appears to be stalling now. He brandishes the iron, waving it back and forth, but does nothing to advance the glowing tip toward my quaking body.

The Abbot is on his feet again ... red in the face ... thoroughly enraged ... impatiently repeating his demand ... "Her Breasts! Roast the whore's teats!"

De Flebas' eyes grow steely. He has no choice! He thrusts the iron slowly forward. The heat already sears my flesh, even though the iron is still some distance away. I begin to shake uncontrollably. My breasts wobble and sway as I reflexively suck in my breath and twist left and right in a vain attempt to draw my chest away from the heat. Sweat runs down my forehead to sting my eyes. I am backed up tight against the clammy cold wall.

Why is he slow? I can't look any longer! I turn my head aside to avert my gaze from that spell-binding awful glowing tip, but I still can't help but follow it's approach out of the corner of my eye.

View attachment 394663 Here it comes. This is it! He is aiming low ... not at my nipples, but at the smooth pale flesh of the underside of my upraised left breast!

Dear God in Heaven give me the strength!!
Click to expand...
Oh, poor de Flebas forced to do The Abbot's dirty work. The Abbot is a coward for not doing it himself. Hang tough Barb!
Draw strength from your faith.
Great episode Barb!
 
Agreed, that he most certainly is. Among other things too I bet. Guarantee Arnaud will just keep barking out orders in between stuffing his fat gullet and shooting mean looks from the sidelines, when de Flebas or the other torturers aren't "torturing" poor Barbara the way he wants them to.
 
Thanks Wragg, Tree, Shastar, Thess, Hondo, Scarlett, everyone for your comments and feedback, they really encourage us! Interesting things are ahead ;)


Episode 15

SSSSssssssssssssss

I touch her so gently with the iron, hardly a touch at all, on the soft underside of her beautiful breast. Barbara flinches involuntarily with a sharp indrawn breath, her face twisted with the struggle to endure, to maintain her dignity before the Abbot.

"Yes" he says, nodding. "Yes, so we begin. You may believe that you are strong my dear, but you will not be strong enough. All break, in the end. My Lord, why don't you kiss her now between the legs, warm her woman's parts."

His words send a chill through me. Her soft mound, lightly covered with dark hair that fails to hide her slit with her legs spread as they are. I am sure this holy woman has led a life of chastity, her tender flesh will not have known a man, let alone a searing rod of iron. This is horror to me! I cannot hurt her so, but I admit that her woman's parts draw my attention most forcefully. I am sweating now, it must be the heat of the brazier. I raise the iron again, draw it so slowly towards her sweet thighs. Her eyes are fixed, fixed on the glowing tip.

It touches, once, twice on her belly, burning, burning and drawing groans through her gritted teeth. I don't want to damage her, to hurt her, but better that I do it than the brutish Bernard. I do as little as I can get away with, waving the hot tip near her flesh, lower and lower, until the smell of burning hair tells us it has arrived. I cannot, I will not touch her tender parts with it, not there. I move it lower, hold it against her inner thigh for one, two three moments. A scream finally tears from her throat as her body tries hopelessly to avoid the iron. Her scream pierces me, hurts more than any sword could. I look with hatred at Arnaud Amaury.

"That will do for now thank you. What do you say woman? Are you ready to recant yet? Ready to submit?

No?

Bernard, take her down. I wish to reunite her with her ladies. She needs a rest. But when we return please have a special bed prepared for her that she may stretch out upon. We shall place her on the rack, and we will see if iron and rope will loosen her tongue."
 
Fucking ooouuuuccchhhhh! A blazing red hot iron right on her tender vagina! Just reading that part made me cross my legs tightly. I can imagine poor Barbara screaming like a banshee inside my head. Such barbaric cruelty, this Abbot truly is a bastard. Too bad he wont get his comeuppance in the very end, I can tell De Flebas would love to take that hot poker and drive it through Arnaud's heart. Or better yet let Barbara torture the hell out of him until he squeals. But now the rack is next, I'm not sure if Barbara will be able to resist this punishment, it may not be worth it in. But knowing how she is, she wont give these monsters the satisfaction. Another good chapter entry, Phlebas. :)
 
Thanks Scarlett, but no, the iron is not on her vagina!

"the smell of burning hair tells us it has arrived. I cannot, I will not touch her tender parts with it, not there. I move it lower, hold it against her inner thigh for one, two three moments."

Sorry if it's not clear, but de Flebas passes over her vagina and holds the iron against her inner thigh, her inside upper leg. Close, but not on!

This is important to him, and to me, and to the story.


It still f-ing hurts!
 
phlebas said:
Thanks Scarlett, but no, the iron is not on her vagina!

"the smell of burning hair tells us it has arrived. I cannot, I will not touch her tender parts with it, not there. I move it lower, hold it against her inner thigh for one, two three moments."

Sorry if it's not clear, but de Flebas passes over her vagina and holds the iron against her inner thigh, her inside upper leg. Close, but not on!

This is important to him, and to me, and to the story.


It still f-ing hurts!
Click to expand...

Oh.... I must have read that part too fast and just assumed the rest. :doh: My mistake. Agreed though, that's gonna hurt like a bitch still. Barbara is fortunate at the moment that he's so compassionate toward her. Sadly that compassion will not be shared by the others. Especially from that Bernard. I have a feeling his quite a cruel individual.
 
phlebas said:
Thanks Wragg, Tree, Shastar, Thess, Hondo, Scarlett, everyone for your comments and feedback, they really encourage us! Interesting things are ahead ;)


Episode 15

SSSSssssssssssssss

I touch her so gently with the iron, hardly a touch at all, on the soft underside of her beautiful breast. Barbara flinches involuntarily with a sharp indrawn breath, her face twisted with the struggle to endure, to maintain her dignity before the Abbot.

"Yes" he says, nodding. "Yes, so we begin. You may believe that you are strong my dear, but you will not be strong enough. All break, in the end. My Lord, why don't you kiss her now between the legs, warm her woman's parts."

His words send a chill through me. Her soft mound, lightly covered with dark hair that fails to hide her slit with her legs spread as they are. I am sure this holy woman has led a life of chastity, her tender flesh will not have known a man, let alone a searing rod of iron. This is horror to me! I cannot hurt her so, but I admit that her woman's parts draw my attention most forcefully. I am sweating now, it must be the heat of the brazier. I raise the iron again, draw it so slowly towards her sweet thighs. Her eyes are fixed, fixed on the glowing tip.

It touches, once, twice on her belly, burning, burning and drawing groans through her gritted teeth. I don't want to damage her, to hurt her, but better that I do it than the brutish Bernard. I do as little as I can get away with, waving the hot tip near her flesh, lower and lower, until the smell of burning hair tells us it has arrived. I cannot, I will not touch her tender parts with it, not there. I move it lower, hold it against her inner thigh for one, two three moments. A scream finally tears from her throat as her body tries hopelessly to avoid the iron. Her scream pierces me, hurts more than any sword could. I look with hatred at Arnaud Amaury.

"That will do for now thank you. What do you say woman? Are you ready to recant yet? Ready to submit?

No?

Bernard, take her down. I wish to reunite her with her ladies. She needs a rest. But when we return please have a special bed prepared for her that she may stretch out upon. We shall place her on the rack, and we will see if iron and rope will loosen her tongue."
Click to expand...
I am so glad that de Flebas spared her lady parts, that would have been way too much to bear:eek::eek::eek::eek::eek::eek::eek::eek:.....too bad de Flebas can't stick the hot tip on The Abbot's dick, see how he likes it:devil:
 
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