The Tale of Eight Kingdoms

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The Tale of the Eight Kingdoms ​

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Chapter 1: The Ordeal of Princess Alina

Once upon a time, Princess Alina had been the great hope of the human race. A once-a-millennium miracle of magical birth, she was blessed with speed, strength, agility, and an innate ability to heal wounds, both her own and those of her fellow warriors. At 22 years of age, she was already the leader of the thousand-strong amazon army of Ayimir, who had spent centuries fighting back against the incursions of dark elves, or draks, into the lands of women.

But then had come the Battle of Ection when the great dark elf army of Myronir the Great had destroyed the army of Ayimr and completed their domination of the western lands. Almost all the amazons had been killed in the battle, while Alina herself, having sustained wounds that would killed a normal woman ten times over, had been captured. She been dragged in chains, along with the other prisoners, to the drak kingdom of Mantius, where she had been tortured and enslaved ever since. She was now into her ninth year of captivity, which had been filled with the most brutal abuse and torture ever perpetrated in the Eight Kingdoms. The draks used the girl’s natural healing ability to keep her alive, and the demon stones they employed to aid this healing yet further kept her perpetually young. Myronir and his subjects aimed to torture the young woman forever, feeding off her agony like leeches until the end of time.

For Alina herself, every day was a constant hell of torture,abuse and humiliation. For eight years she had had to watch as the people she had been born to save were enslaved village by village by the dark elf armies. Her home kingdom of Ayimir, deep in the cold north of the western lands, had been almost entirely overrun by the draks, its inhabitants either taken south to the elf kingdom of Mantius or enslaved in the freezing metal mines of the Sarten Mountains. In Thilros across the sea, female feya elves fought off endless attacks by draks from the sea and marauding dwarves, ogres and trolls from Wolestland. Alina would see elves captured by the drak raids led in chains into Mantius, their naked bodies already marked by countless tortures endured along the way. The drak galleys were oared by slavegirls who were whipped and abused constantly. They arrived at the drak kingdom exhausted and broken after weeks or even months at sea, only to find that their ordeals had only just begun. They could not be tortured to the same extreme extent that Princess Alina could, but the demon stones could still heal most wounds and keep the females alive for years and years of slavery and abuse.

It is hard to exaggerate the contempt the dark elves held for the female races and the sheer pleasure they got out of their suffering. But their hatred of Princess Alina went beyond all boundaries. The amazon girl was the living embodiment of all they hated and despised, a girl who had represented and led their greatest enemies throughout the Eight Kingdoms.. If there was one thing that united every dark elf in Mantius, it was her unremitting torture and abuse carried out through every hour of night and day.

“Get moving, whore. Face your people and let them see you for the worthless cunt that you are.”

Beluar shoved the 22-year-old girl from behind and pulled her head back so that she could see the crowds of half-naked slaves as they carried rocks in the dry dust of the morning sun. A team of thick-muscled draks whipped the girls as they forced their exhausted body forwards, sometimes jabbing a pain stick or energy rod into their bare breasts or armpits to give the further encouragement. Alina did not try to turn her face away from the terrible scene. After more than eight long years, she was well used to seeing her people being tortured and abused and she knew that nothing she said or did could ever stop it.

“You see that, bitch? Aren’t those the whores you were supposed to be protecting? Isn’t that what you were born to do?”

Alina didn’t reply, so Beluar pressed a pain stick into her back and gave her a long blast of agony that ripped through every nerve in the young woman’s body. When the princess refused to cry out, Beluar’s co-guard Lathrak thumped a club into her flat stomach, smashing the air from her lungs. As she fell to her knees, he smashed a body fist into her face and broke her nose. Then he added his pain stick to Beluar’s, pushing the thick instrument into the girl’s pussy and twisting it hard into her uterus. The two rods glowed with a fierce green light, far brighter than those the slavegirls below were being tortured with. Powered by dark magic, the sticks calibrated the pain they inflicted with the capacity of the victim to take it without fainting. For Alina, with her enchanted ability to heal, this meant an agony far surpassing that suffered by the other captives of the draks, a pain that was almost unlimited in its intensity. Still, the 22-year-old was determined not to cry out in front of her subjects, who sneaked furtive glances towards her as they trudged through the hot dust of the camp. Lathrak punched her again in the guts and shoved the pain stick so hard it punctured the girl’s womb. Fresh blood ran down the side of the rod as it glowed inside her which the drak stroked with his finger and then smeared down the girl’s bruised face.

“I think this bitch needs a good whipping before she starts her day’s work,” opined Beluar, as he pressed his pain stick harder into Alina’s breasts. “Perhaps that will help her to learn her place.”

Alina was expecting some kind of punishment before the draks sent her into the slave camp and she resisted the urge to cry as she was roughly pressed against a wooden whipping post. She had been tortured in the Mantius dungeons all night, as she had been every single night for the past eight years. They had beaten her, whipped her, racked her, burned her, impaled her, roasted her, poisoned her, and fried her without mercy, revelling in the screams they wrenched from her lips and the pain energy she flooded into their bodies. Alina needed very little sleep and the dark elves gave her none, torturing her incessantly throughout each day and night and healing her only when her injuries made it impossible to torture her further.

Beluar smashed the girl’s face into the rough wooden post and pulled her arms up high. If Alina had had her usual strength, she would have killed the vicious elf easily. But she was weak from torture and thirst, for the draks gave her little water as they abused her through the broiling days and nights of the Mantius plains. Ayimir women were used to the cold of the northern realms, so the desert heat was murder on their pale skin. The salt gags the draks routinely used to punish them with made their lives a further hell, as did the complete lack of shade they laboured in through each blazing day. Alina had not been given any water for two days, and her throat had been burned with fire and hot oil during the night. If she had been a normal woman, she would have been dead from thirst and exhaustion, but as it was she was simply unnaturally weak. The dark elf pulled her arms up until the young woman was stretched on to her tiptoes. Then he took out a pair of thick iron nails and hammered them through the backs of her hands, transfixing them to each side of the post. Lathrak did the same to her feet, pressing her ankles into the post and hammering the nail through flesh and bone until it was thick inside the post. Bleeding and helpless, the young princess again resisted the urge to cry, even as the creatures wiped her hair away from her shoulders and prepared to lay the first stripe across her bare back.

The draks had picked out a rhino whip for the flogging, the instrument used most commonly on the slavegirls as they laboured in the mines and camps. It was a brutal weapon consisting of a long length of rhino hide, flexible enough to flay and cut into the skin and heavy enough to bruise the flesh beneath. It was only possible to utilise a whip of such cruelty because of the demon stones that allowed the women to be healed when necessary. But while an ordinary human might be able to take forty or fifty strokes before passing out and needing to be healed, Alina could take a hundred, two hundred or even more. Her body could be flayed and lacerated to the bone and she would not lose consciousness, and she could have her wounds cauterised with hot irons or boiling oil so that the whipping could continue almost indefinitely. This was the young woman’s curse, and it was one that had tormented her every day for the past eight years.

“Right, bitch, let’s see how you enjoy this.”

Lathrak took the whip first, letting it drop to the floor before raising it up and cracking it viciously across the girl’s bare shoulders. It struck her like an explosion of gunpowder, a reverberating crack that echoed above the other noises of pain and torture throughout the camp. Alina bit her tongue to prevent herself crying out, but she knew that the pain was at its very beginning. Again and again the dark elf cracked the heavy whip against her soft flesh, lashing her with three times the force that any human would have been able to do. After a dozen strokes, the vicious rhino hide was biting through the girl’s skin. After thirty strokes, there were bloody lacerations from her shoulders down to her thighs. After fifty strokes, her entire back was an open wound, her tattered flesh hanging from her in strips. Alina was crying now, quietly so that the other women could not hear, but with each added lash, her agony grew more unbearable. As one of the draks whipped her, the other pressed pain sticks into her face, her breasts and her private parts, laughing at her tear-stained cheeks and mocking her pathetic attempts to bear the pain.

“Such a weak little whore,” Lathrak sneered as the seventieth stroke cracked against the girl’s lacerated flesh. “Your punishment has barely started and already you’re crying like a little girl. Call yourself a warrior? You’re nothing but a mewling little bitch.”

Alina looked into the scornful eyes of the elf and summoned up all her courage to spit into his face.

“Fuck you.”

Lathrak’s reaction was as vicious as it was inevitable. He drew back his mailed fist and smashed it into the girl’s face once, twice, three times in succession. Alina’s nose and jaw crumpled under the impact, blood pouring down onto her bare breasts. The drak took his pain stick and rammed into her mouth, breaking her two front teeth and choking her as it slammed into the back of her throat. From a smoking brazier, which were positioned at regular intervals for the casual tortures of the slaves, he took out a pair of red-hot tongs and fastened them around the girl’s tongue, crushing it between the two sets of searing teeth. Alina let out a choked scream of agony before the elf drove his hard fist into the side of her ribs and smashed the air from her lungs.

“You are going to pay for that all fucking day, you insolent whore,” he snarled. “And I don’t need to tell you what we’ll do to you in the dungeons tonight.”

As Lathrak was tormenting her, Beluar was continuing to lash the rhino whip against her bare body, 100 strokes, 110, 120, 130. Alina’s back was just a mass of lacerated flesh and tattered tissue. In some places the whip had cut so deep that white bone was visible beneath the blood. The 22-year-old should have been half-dead by now, drooping unconscious from the whipping post. But instead she was fully alert, her agony increasing with each savage blow that splattered blood over the wooden platform all around her.

“Let’s burn these cuts so we can give the bitch the kind of whipping she truly deserves,” said Lathrak, as he continued to pound the pain stick against the girl’s throat. “Hot salt to start.”

Metal vats of salt were always kept heated over fires around the camp ready to be rubbed into the livid wounds of the slavegirls as an extra punishment for disobedience or laziness. For Alina, the elves sometimes liked to lacerate or flay her entire body and then literally roast her inside the salt vats above the flames. They could burn her like that for hours, the agony indescribable, and when they finally brought her out, the girl would still be alive, ready to be tortured further. Lathrak ordered a pair of slavegirls to take the nearest vat off the fire and bring it to them. The metal vats were red-hot to the touch, but the young women had no choice but to burn their hands to the bone as they lifted the heavy container off the fire and carried it, weeping with agony, to the raised platform where Alina was being tortured. Dropping the vat or spilling the salt would have meant a terrible whipping at best or, more likely, a week or so in the dungeons suffering torture of every description. Consequently, the two girls swallowed their agony and obeyed the order perfectly, laying the red-hot container down at the dark elves’ feet.

Beluar stamped on the girls’ smouldering hands as they placed the vat down and then casually kicked them off the platform into the dust below, where pain sticks and rhino whips immediately fell on their flesh from the other guards. No longer interested in the two anonymous slaves, Beluar and Lathrak took a ladleful of boiling salt and poured it down Alina’s lacerated back. The touch of the burning crystals was agony in itself, but it was nothing compared to what came next as the draks rubbed the salt into her wounds with thick sheets of sandpaper. They pushed the salt deep into each wound while the girl was helpless to stop herself screaming out in torment. When every lacerated on her back and buttocks had been flayed by the salt, the elves took up blazing tdrakhes and brushed them up and down the girl’s flesh, burning her lightly from head to toe. Then Beluar took up the rhino whip and launched into the flogging once more.

The other half-naked slavegirls labouring under the hot sun and the relentless lash of the overseers paid little attention to the torture of their former princess. They had been here for eight years or even longer and there was nothing that shocked them anymore. Alina had been their great hope and inspiration, but that had clearly just been a mirage. Now she was just a tortured and broken girl, just as they were.

The 22-year-old had no idea how many times she was whipped against the post. It seemed to go on forever, the heavy lash thumping relentlessly against her smouldering back, cutting her ragged flesh to the bone. Twice more the draks paused to add boiling salt to her wounds and once they took the red-hot charcoals from the brazier and sizzled them against her flesh for minutes on end. By the time they were done, the whole of Alina’s body from her shoulders to her knees was an angry mass of livid open wounds and terrible bone-deep burns. The draks did not bother to heal them, for there was no danger the girl would die from injuries such as these. Over the course of the next several hours, her body would heal them naturally, unfortunately for the princess an intensely painful process, akin to being stitched together with red-hot wire thread. Her punishment during that time would, of course, be incessant, meaning that as one injury healed, another would be created, leading to a constant cycle of agony from both torture and healing, a hell that Alina had known every single moment for over eight years.

Beluar and Lathrak ripped the iron nails from the girl’s hands and feet, pressing pain sticks into the livid wounds on her back to ensure every second was filled with as much pain as possible. Alina’s legs collapsed beneath her as she was released and the two draks kicked her viciously in the ribs with their heavy hobnailed boots.

“Get on your feet, you lazy whore! You’re a slave, not a princess, bitch.”

As Alina struggled to push herself up, the elves stamped on her wounded hands and ground her fingers into the rough wooden planks of the platform. Beluar smashed a mailed fist against the back of her head while Lathrak kicked her hard in the side. Pinioned by her hands, the girl could not move and the two draks continued to beat her as she knelt helplessly on her hands and feet. Finally they stopped beating her long enough for her to struggle to her feet. She stood shakily in front of the two seven-foot elves, naked and helpless as a child. Beluar drew back his fist and thumped her in the stomach, doubling her over in pain. When Alina straightened up, he did it again.

“You’re going to the salt mines today, bitch. Now give me your arms so we can get you ready.”

Alina meekly held out her arms, too weak to resist, and allowed the draks to place a pair of manacles over her wrists. They were sharp and viciously tight, cutting into the skin, and connected by a short chain that permitted only the minimum of movement. Leg manacles on her ankles similarly restricted her movement, and in that painful state the girl was kicked off the platform into the dust beneath. Lithrak kicked her several times before dragging her up by the hair. Then the two draks settled into a constant routine of flogging her with rhino whips, striking her with staves and torturing her with pain sticks. Around her, slavegirls of every age were shuffling through the dust with loads of stones, timber or mortar. They had been working in the construction camp since dawn, many having been raped, whipped or tortured for at least several hours during the night. Guards harrassed them constantly with whips and pain sticks, yelling at them to work harder and move faster. They were given no breaks other than the two mealtimes at midday and dusk, and any girl who failed to complete her work fast enough was subject to fearful punishments throughout the day. There were also frequent rapes as the amarok, high on pain energy, took the naked captives aside and filled them with burning ichor.

The scenes were so familiar that Alina did not even look around her as she was hurried through the camp. The salt mines were over five miles away and the 22-year-old knew exactly how she would have to travel there. When they reached the edge of the sprawling camp, they attached a rope from the girl’s hand manacles to the back of a saddled horse, removing the chains from her ankles so she would be able to run. The horse rider, the drak Vulmon prepared to move off, only for Lathrak to call a quick halt.



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[corncobby]

“Wait on there, we’ve not prepared the bitch properly for the journey yet.”

As the dark elf brought his steed to a halt, Lathrak clubbed the young girl to the ground and ordered her to raise her feet in the air.

“Can’t have you running on perfectly healthy feet, can we?” he said, casually stomping on Alina’s flat stomach.

Beluar was already ready with a glowing red-hot poker which he pressed slowly into the heel of her left foot. Alina cried out in agony as the searing metal hissed into her sensitive flesh, but there were a lot more burns to come as the elf systematically branded each inch of her foot before, without any hesitation, doing the same to her right foot. After that, he gave her thirty hard lashes with the rhino whip, cutting angry bloody lines into her smouldering flesh.

“Now you’re ready to run, slave.”

Alina struggled to her feet just as Vulmon nudged the horse forward. She took a dozen agonising steps on her tortured feet before the drak kicked his steed into a trot and forced the girl to run. At her sides Lathrak and Beluar mounted their own horses and prepared to slash at her with rhino whips or prod her with pain sticks to make sure she did not slow her pace.

“If you let yourself fall, bitch, we’ll drag you along the ground like a fucking chariot and when we’re done you’ll get a pair of red-hot pokers up your cunt. You got that?”

Alina was too busy running to answer, so the two draks leaned down and pressed pain sticks into her bare, lacerated body.

“I said, have you got that, bitch?”

“Yes,” the girl replied, in no kind of condition to resist.

Hearing the exchange, Vulmon picked up the pace, forcing the girl to sprint in order to keep up with the running horse. The rope pulled Alina’s arms straight and the manacles bit further into her abraded wrists. The girl stretched her aching legs out and ran at full pelt, ignoring the agony ripping through her feet as she landed on sharp stones and hard dusty ground. In perfect condition, she could have run like this for miles, but with mangled feet, a lacerated and burned back, a parched throat, and the sheer mental and physical exhaustion resulting from so many years of torture, every step was a torment. At her sides Lathrak and Beluar continued to punish her, their desire to hurt the young princess a burning fever inside of them. Alina took in gulpfuls of hot air as she forced herself to keep running. Every few moments she felt herself slipping away, a sudden painful tug on her manacles urging her into another enervating effort. If she had been a normal girl, she might have let herself fall, hopeful that the dragging would bring a painful but merciful death from the horrors of her captivity. But she had been in this position too many times to believe that. They would drag her until her body had been all but flayed of skin. Then they would torture her with red-hot irons, whips, pain sticks, lightning rods and anything else they fancied, and still she would not die.

For Alina, there was nothing she could do each day than somehow attempt to minimise the punishment she received, or rather try not to maximise it. So as Vulmon forced her to run quicker and quicker over the rough ground, the 22-year-old summoned every last drop of energy and stamina and continued to sprint. For three and a half miles she ran until her legs were like jelly and her cracked ribs were burning like fire. Then suddenly she could go no further. Her knees collapsed beneath her and plummetted to the ground, smashing her face on a rock as she hit the floor. Seeing her fall, Vulmon immediately quickened his pace, sending the horse into a gallop. Alina was dragged helplessly, her naked body bouncing and twisting as she slammed into rocks, gravel, spiky plants, and hard sand. She could feel her skin being lacerated, torn and flayed, but there was nothing she could do but wait for the horror to end.

“You’d better get up, bitch. We’re not going to help you,” mocked Lathrak, galloping alongside her on his horse.

Alina tried to somehow scramble onto her knees, but the horse was going too fast and when she placed her hands on the ground all she succeeded in doing was flaying her palms raw. She screamed as the horror went on and on for more than a mile before finally Vulmon slowed his horse and dismounted. The three draks surrounded the bleeding, tattered young woman and drove their boots hard into her naked body, pounding her ribs, stomach and thighs.

“Fucking lazy whore, now you’re going to have to be punished.”

They kicked her until they heard at least half of her ribs crack and break, then hauled her up by her hair and punched her hard in the guts. They slammed her face into a tree and kicked her legs apart, keeping her manacled arms in front of her. As Beluar got to work kindling a fire to heat up the iron pokers, his two friends pushed pain sticks into the girl’s private parts and struck her randomly with staves and fists. Her flesh was tattered and flayed on both sides of her body, but the three draks knew they did not need to heal her with demon stones yet. Let the bitch suffer hours of agony as her own natural powers did their work.

When a pair of pokers had heated up sufficiently, the creatures held Alina steady against the tree and began to push the first of them slowly into her vagina. The girl out a scream of agony as the searing poker was forced into her tight hole, the red-hot metal burning into her flesh. Beluar pushed the poker in four inches, then withdrew it slightly, and then forced it a further inch, back again, and then an inch more, drawing out the agony to its maximum. There was no danger of killing her. Alina could have an entire red-hot spit impaled from her anus to her mouth, and frequently did, and it would not lead to death. Beluar pushed and pulled and wrenched and twisted the burning metal in her, while the girl howled with agony and desperation. There were none of her former subjects around her to hear her distress now, so the young girl did not hold back. The agony ripping through every part of her body overwhelmed her and she cried like a baby, screaming at the elves to stop her torment.

Lathrak, Beluar and Vulmon just laughed and tortured her all the more, adding pain sticks and punches to the poker being fdraked ever deeper into her orifice.

“What a weak little whore, you are. I think you need something to quieten you down a bit.”

The dark elves employed a variety of gags to keep their slaves quiet. As well as ordinary wooden bits, there were salt gags, wolf nettle gags, cactus gags, and lighning gags that tortured the women with exaspark energy. The draks chose a wolf nettle now, stuffing a large hard ball of compressed nettles into her mouth and securing it with straps around her face. Wolf nettles were one of the most virulently poisonous plants in the entire Eight Kingdoms, so painful that even just a couple of stings would render even an drak screeching in agony. Few women could take more than an hour or two of a nettle gag before the poison and pain overwhelmed her, but the 22-year-old princess could wear it all day without any relief.

As Lathrak fastened the gag in her mouth and Vulmon pressed pain sticks into her breasts, Beluar continued to pound the red-hot poker into her vagina, puncturing her womb with a full eighteen inches of burning metal. As soon as the poker had begun to cool, sticking inside her with her melted flesh, he took the second poker and inserted it into her anus, even smaller and tighter than her pussy. Alina could only make throaty squeals of agony behind the nettle gag, and the elves laughed at her again as she wept and trembled in anguish. Lathrak lashed a cane across her flayed back as Beluar bent the girl over to fdrake the poker in deeper and Vulmon crushed her bare toes with his hard boots, trying to break a bone or two to make the final run to the salt mine even harder.

Eventually the second poker cooled and the drak ripped the two lengths of metal out of her anus and vagina, tearing a layer of burned flesh along with it. Vulmon re-mounted his horse as his two companions pulled the girl back into position, punching her in the stomach as they tied her manacles to the saddle once more.

“We’ve got another half-mile to the mines, bitch, and now we’ve got some time to make up. Better get ready to run.”

Vulmon spurred his horse on without giving the girl any time to prepare herself. Suddenly Alina was running on her mangled feet with her private parts smouldering with burns and her entire body flayed almost to the bone. The agony of each step was overwhelming, but somehow the girl managed to make it almost to the entrance of the mine before a sharp rock tripped her and sent her sprawling to the ground once more.

 

[corncobby]

Chapter 2: The Salt Mine of Masi

Vulmon dragged Alina into the camp and left her bleeding in the dust as he went to greet the mine commandant, Thurrec. Thurrec regarded the bleeding girl with a mixture of contempt and excitement. Her pain energized him physically while her existence filled him with hatred and anger. He took a pain stick and pressed it hard into the girl’s bleeding breasts, watching it light up brightly like a beacon in the night. Alina’s pain energy flooded through him like a drug and his cock stiffened at the prospect of her torture.

“You were expected an hour ago, you worthless cunt. You’re going to have to work to make up for it or else. You got that, slave?”

Alina said nothing as all four draks pushed their pain sticks into her body, ripping agony through her like a tidal wave. She was in for a day of total hell, the girl knew. Laboring in the salt mines was one of the five major types of fates the human and elf slavegirls of Mantius generally faced, along with working in metal mines, stone quarries, construction camps, and on the ocean galleys. The slaves were put to work digging out layers of rock with pickaxes to get at the salt, cutting out the salt itself with axes and shovels, operating the pulley systems to bring the salt loads to the surface, and transporting these by hand carts to the horses that would bring them to the cities. The mine at Masi was one of the largest with well over a thousand girls working in dozens of separate pits dotted around an area of several miles. Being in the lee of the great Mineku Mountains, which acted as a shield to stop hot air escaping north, the desert camp was fearfully hot, often reaching almost 45 degrees in the middle of the day while plunging to below zero at night. The girls slept in open air pens at night, chained together by their necks, so they had no respite whatsoever from the extreme temperatures of their hellish prison.

For the dark elves, the mines were about more than just profit and productivity. Like all dark creatures, or amarok, they gained physical energy as well as huge pleasure from the pain of the women, and so punishment and torture were just as much a pair of the slaves’ lives as work. The women were naked save for a thin loincloth around their waist and subject to constant harassment from the drak overseers, who wielded rhino whips, bamboo canes, pain sticks and lightning staffs to torment them as they worked. There were also whipping posts and stocks at regular intervals throughout the camp and an extensive network of dungeons dug out by the women themselves beneath the living quarters of the guards. These were in constant use both day and night, with the muffled screams of tortured women wafting over the extensive camp like the whistle of the wind on the plains.

The four draks ordered Alina to her feet. Along with the manacles on her wrists, they added another tight chain to her ankles before dragging her to the nearest salt pit and literally throwing her down. She fell forty meters down, banging and scraping her naked body on the sloping rocky sides, until she hit the bottom with a sickening crunch. There were around thirty women swinging pickaxes into the rock, facing several hundred more meters of backbreaking digging before they reached the salt layer. A pair of pulley systems hauled the rock up to the surface, operated by two slavegirls arduously turning a winch. There were also rope ladders where every now and then a girl was forced to ascend in order to receive punishment on the surface. For lesser punishments, a simple whipping post had been jammed into the rock where, at the moment Alina was pushed into the pit, a young girl of around eighteen years of age was being whipped with a bamboo cane across her bare back.

Six guards were in charge of the pit. They tormented the girls mercilessly with whip strikes, blows and pain sticks while demanding ever more efforts of work.

The chief of the pit on the ground was a drak named Kerym. He regarded the bleeding young Alina with utter distaste. He ordered a guard to lift the girl to her feet and then drove a mailed fist hard into her belly.

“You good-for-nothing whore, you think you can just lie around all day? Pick up an ax and get to work. You’re the princess of these worthless bitches, so you’re responsible for them now. If they don’t work, you’ll get punished too. You got that?”

Alina could not react before another fist slammed into her guts. Her body was lacerated, bruised and burned from head to toe but there was no mercy from the guards. Pain sticks jabbed into her and she was shoved toward a pile of pick axes and beaten to the ground.

“Get to work, slave.”

She had no choice but to obey, though every muscle in her body screamed at her for rest. In her mouth the wolf nettles stung her relentlessly, while the salty air of the mine raked her parched throat and made her almost mad with thirst. Kerym took a pain stick and jammed it between her legs as she picked up the ax while one of the guards cracked a cane across her back. There was nothing Alina could do to prevent her fate for the rest of the morning. The guards would not stop whipping, beating and torturing her no matter how hard she worked, but if she, or her fellow slaves, slacked off even for a moment, she would undoubtedly be punished in other ways, perhaps nailed again to the whipping post and flogged or burned with red-hot irons from the brazier the guards kept kindled at one side. For the other thirty slavegirls in the pit, there was only one potential upside from the princess’s appearance – the fact that the amarok were so busy torturing her, they might gain a little relief at least for the day. But then Lathrak and Beluar climbed down into the pit and added themselves to the overseers, and whatever tiny hope the women had was gone.

Lathrak added his pain stick to Kerym’s, pressing it into the girl’s lacerated breasts as she bent down to drive the ax into the rock for the first time. Alina could not flinch from the agony coursing through her body or the consequences would be brutal. Eight years of slavery taught a woman everything she needed to know about the cruelty of the dark elves. So, though exhaustion and pain tore through her naked body, she continued to swing the pick ax into the rock, the shockwaves of each strike ripping agony through her bones. Around her the other slaves did the same, their voices raised in anguish as whips fell on their backs and pain sticks tormented their private parts and breasts. They had already been at work for three hours, woken from their pens at the first light of dawn and sent to the pits with only a single cup of water to sustain them. Meals were given only at midday and dusk, with just enough water to keep them healthy enough to work. There were no water breaks in between these times, and it took only minutes for the salt of the mines to parch their throats and sting their many wounds. After three hours, they were in a desperate state, covered with bruises and lacerations, burned by the sun, parched with thirst, and exhausted beyond every limit. But they were still only halfway to the short break they were permitted at midday, and their pain and suffering would only grow from here.

Whatever Princess Alina did, she was damned. If she worked hard, she was giving in to the slavers’ demands and showing her submission to the draks. But if she tried to show her resistance by refusing to work, she would be brutally tortured and so would her compatriots. So she did the only thing she could and followed the example of the other women, methodically beating the pick ax against the hard rock and trying to endure the endless torments being inflicted on her by the guards. To her left, the eighteen-year-old being flogged by the guard was finally being let down from the whipping post. Now she was closer, Alina suddenly had a flash of recognition. The girl was known to her, intimately known. Her own amazon weapons-bearer who had lined up beside her at the Battle of Ection. Almost all the amazons had been killed in the battle, but this young girl must have survived. Her name was Elise.

The amazons were unique in many ways. It was not only that they were blessed with unnaturally strong, athletic bodies, remarkable martial skills and an ability to heal quickly, they also aged five times more slowly than normal humans. Nobody knew how this had come to pass – like the disappearance of men from the Eight Kingdoms and the evolution of female-only reproduction, the mystery had been lost to the mists of time and myth. Alina did not know whether the dark elves realized Elise was an amazon. She hoped for the girl’s sake that they had not. But they would still have treated her with abominable cruelty, noticing surely that she could endure far more punishment than a normal girl her age.

 

[corncobby]

For the next three hours, Alina laboured in the pit with the other slaves, tortured constantly by Lathrak, Beluar, Kerym and the other drak and goblin guards. Every now and then, the eighteen-year-old amazon looked across at her furtively, her face a mask of pain and suffering. Silently, Alina urged her not to. If it was discovered that Elise was known to her, her own weapons-bearer no less, the young girl was in for a fate too terrible to contemplate.

There was no respite for either of the two amazons as the morning went on, only constant abuse and escalating exhaustion. Alina tried to be strong, but the more she strived to hold out, the more the guards punished her. By the time the bell rang at midday, she could barely swing her arms and the draks were promising her dire tortures as a punishment. As the girls lay down their pick axes after six straight hours of labor, they were prodded toward the ladders with pain sticks and ordered to climb. They all bore the marks of punishment from the terrible morning, their skin burned and peeling, lash marks and contusions visible from their shoulders down to their feet. Alina’s horrific wounds were still in the process of healing naturally, the agony of her flayed, burned and lacerated flesh knitting itself together utterly unbearable. The additional wounds the guards caused with their whips and clubs made the process longer and even more painful, the effort of bearing the torment sapping the young princess of what little strength she had left.

Lathrak followed the 22-year-old up the ladder, pushing a pain stick hard into her anus to make every step as painful as possible. On the surface, the women were forming lines to take their lunch, a vile mud-like stew they were forced to eat for each meal. It was revolting and sickening, but contained enough nutrition to keep them strong enough for work. While the draks did not mind executing their slaves for disobedience, they liked to do it slowly over many days. What they did not like was women dropping dead without permission. That was a waste of labor and a waste of pain. Along with the food, they were given three liters of water, again calculated to be just sufficient to keep them alive. The women drank the liquid slowly, careful not to spill a drop, but they knew it would do little to quench the terrible thirst that afflicted them day and night. The air in the mines was full of salt, and as soon as the last of the water was gone, their throats would be parched again within minutes. None of the women dared to throw the water away in a bid to help them die. The guards were watching like hawks, and if they did not finish every drop of food and water, they would be dragged away to the dungeons for days of torture. There they would be force-fed, negating any hope they had of release.

Alina ate her meal and drank her water, knowing she had no other choice. But it did not save her from the punishment Lathrak and Kerym had promised. As most of the other slavegirls were marched back to their work, Alina and dozens of other women marked out were punishment were nailed to whipping posts or stocks for further abuse. Kerym and Lathrak had their victim bent double, placing her head inside the stocks and nailing her hands to the top. Her feet were pulled apart slightly and nailed to the bottom, while a thick red-hot skewer was taken from the brazier and pierced through her breasts from end to end. Lathrak hung a heavy bag of sand from the skewer to stretch her tortured busoms toward the ground, while Karym replaced the nettle gag in her mouth with a cactus gag full of poisonous spines that stabbed into every part of her tissues and gums. Beneath the girl’s flat stomach they placed a lightning rod, fizzing with 1000 exajoules of dark energy. Alina had to stand on the very tips of her toes to avoid the tip of the rod. If she touched it, a flood of lightning would rip through her body, setting every nerve alight with pain.

“Let’s see if that encourages you to show a bit more stamina now, you worthless amazon whore.”

Alina let out a high-pitched squeal of agony behind her spiky gag as her stomach touched the crackling lightning rod for the first time. The dark power ripped through her body like a lightning strike, its intensity far higher than even the strongest amazon warrior would have been able to take. The two draks’ cocks stiffened as the energy from the girl’s pain surged through them. Lathrak shoved a pain stick into her torn rectum and breathed in the extra surge of agony that emanated from the naked princess’s body. He was planning to rape her shortly, but first he decided she needed yet more pain. Turning to Karym, he said, “What’s the nastiest whip you’ve got lying round this place?”

There was no shortage of whips the dark elves employed on their female slaves, from standard instruments like the rhino whip, the horse whip, the nine-tail and the bamboo rod to more exotic varieties such as the scorpion whip, the flame whip and the stinging birch. Karym suggested the stinging birch for now, a whip constructed of twisted lengths of a virulent poisonous desert plant known for its devastatingly painful spines so thin as to be almost invisible to the eye.

“But first, I think we ought to flay her. The stinger works best when it can really get into a cunt’s flesh, don’t you think?”

Lathrak did not need persuading. He took a demon stone out of his pocket and pressed it to the girl’s lacerated back. There was a surge of searing agony through Alina’s body as her wounds began to heal. Behind her gag she screamed madly, shifting her naked body and immediately frying herself on the lightning rod. The two draks pressed their pain sticks into her and watched the young amazon’s writhing torment with undisguised excitement. It took five minutes for the demon stone to do its work, leaving the 22-year-old’s skin perfect and unblemished, though agonizing wounds still remained beneath. By this time, the two creatures had already got the knives and peelers they needed to flay the young girl’s back.

Alina could never have counted how many times she had been flayed over the past eight years, but there can rarely have been a day when it was not done to her at least three or four times. Because she could be healed so quickly, there was nothing to stop her tormentors inflicting this most brutal of punishment on her over and over again, sometimes on just a few parts of her anatomy and other times the whole of her body, strip by agonizing strip. When they were done, they would roast her over flames or boil her in salt, anything to increase the scale of the human girl’s torment.

Despite the innumerable times she had suffered the torture, it was impossible to be prepared for the agony and horror of being flayed alive. The dark elves were past masters of the art, and as Alina desperately screamed into her spiked gag, the two creatures got to work peeling her bare back. The torture was doubled by the effort the girl had to make to not let her stomach drop onto the lightning rod. While every instinct screamed at her to pull her back away from the flaying tools of the two draks, if she allowed herself to drop even a centimeter she would fry herself with 1000 exajoules of energy. Flaying a girl required both delicacy and force. The delicacy came from cutting a shallow line across her shoulders to open a flap of skin, and the force came from pulling that skin down her back away from her flesh. Lathrak and Karym were able to tear it all the way down to her buttocks without ripping it, leaving them with a long strip of skin four inches across that they brandished in front of the terrorized young girl’s face.

“That’s the first of many,” Karym told her. “First we do your back, then your bottom and after that your legs. Then comes the whipping and the salt.”

There was so much pain promised in that simple sentence, it was scarcely credible. But this was how it was for the girl every day of her life. Over the next thirty minutes, the draks flayed every inch of skin from her back, bottom and legs, Alina helpless to prevent herself dropping again and again onto the lightning rod and torturing herself further. When they were finally done, they took up a couple of stinging birch whips and took it in turns to lay alternate strokes across her raw flesh. The whip was strong enough to deliver a hard and painful crack, but it was the aftermath when the poisonous spines stabbed invisibly into the flesh when the real pain came. Every lash was like a thousand white-hot needles penetrating her body, the pain spreading from the point of impact until the whole of her body was burning like a furnace. As usual, while a normal girl might be able to take a few dozen strokes before the pain began to overwhelm her, Alina had no hope of respite. Thirty, forty, fifty, sixty, seventy, a hundred, the whipping went on and on with the two draks making their way from her shoulders to her ankles and back again.

 

[corncobby]

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Alina wanted to take the torture like the fierce amazon warrior she was. She wanted to curl her lips and snarl at the draks like the filthy beasts they were. But the pain and exhaustion were simply too much, and try as she did to keep them in, tears of anguish rolled down her face and dripped onto the dusty ground beneath the stocks.

“Oh look, poor little princess is crying. Shall we stop and tell her how sorry we are?”

Karym’s laughter was like a dagger through the young woman’s heart. It was impossible for the amarok to feel empathy for the women they tortured. It was literally what they were born to do. They lived for it and lived on it. It was their sustenance and their entire purpose in life. The more the women suffered, the more they enjoyed it; and the more the women screamed, the happier they were. Reducing the proud princess of the amazons, the human whore born to fight and kill amarok, to a dribbling wreck of pain was almost intoxicating to the draks, and the idea that they would ever take pity on her, even for a second, was simply unthinkable. Alina was going to be tortured for as long as the sun rose and set, and there was nothing she could ever do to stop it.

By the time Lathrak and Karym were done with the whipping, a sizeable crowd of guards had begun to gather round, attracted by the pain energy given off by the tortured young princess. They all sported huge erections and were desperate to plunge their thick cocks into the girl’s tight mouth and orifices, but for now they waited for the torture to continue, watching as the two torturers took a vat of boiling rock salt and began to rub it vigorously into the girl’s raw flesh. Alina’s muffled screams excited the creatures like nothing in the Eight Kingdoms, and by the time Lathrak and Karym were done, the next stage of the girl’s punishment was inevitable. Karym ripped the cactus gag from the girl’s mouth and plucked the poisonous spines from her gums. He used a hammer to knock out the 22-year-old’s front teeth, just in case she should be foolish enough to bite down on the cocks that were about to be thrust into her, and cauterised her bleeding gums with a hot iron.

“You better put that pretty mouth of yours to good use, princess, because every minute that does by without you making us cum, you’re going to get a red-hot iron in your flesh. You got that?”

Alina let out a low moan of misery but before she could even begin to prepare herself, the drak forced his thick hard cock into her mouth and pushed it hard against the back of her throat. At the same time, Lathrak pushed his member into her tight anus and began to fuck her in long vigorous strokes. A third dark elf by the name of Kalrog pushed a brazier of red-hot coals close and heated up a variety of metal pokers, tongs, pincers and knives. Seeing him, Karym grinned.

“You’d better get that tongue of yours moving, bitch, or these irons are going to start getting busy.”

Alina was in a state of total desperation as she moved her tongue across the drak’s pulsating twelve-inch cock. After eight years of captivity, she knew how to give an amarok pleasure, but the touch, smell and look of the creature’s rough member was utterly revolting to her. Plus when he came, her mouth would be full of hot, acidic ichor that would burn her throat as she was forced to swallow it down in gulps. A minute went by and Alina’s eye darted to the right as Kalrog took a red-hot poker and gently drew a line of fire down her flayed back. She screamed with the cock in her mouth as Karym and Lathrak thrusted harder in excitement. Fucking a human or elf bitch as she was being tortured was the height of pleasure for the dark elves, and when another minute passed and Kalrog squeezed a pair of red-hot tongs around the girl’s mutilated breasts, their excitement swelled their cocks even further. Alina worked her tongue on the beast’s bulbous tip, desperate to avoid another touch of the burning irons, but with her hands nailed to the wooden stocks, there was only so much she could do. She began to work her lips back and forth, but that served to scrape her belly against the lightning rod which flashed with 1000 exajoules of pure pain. Lathrak laughed as he saw the sparks rip through the girl’s body.

“You are in a predicament, aren’t you, princess?” he scoffed. “And just look at how many others are waiting to have their turn once we’re done.”

Two more irons were seared into her flesh before the two draks came inside her. Lathrak was first, depositing a huge amount of black ichor into her torn rectum, and then Karym finally exploded in her mouth, ordering her to swallow every drop or face the consequences. Trying not to be sick, the young woman did as she was told, feeling the vile liquid burning her throat as it passed into her stomach. When he was fully spent inside her, Karym took a step back and drove a mailed fist hard into the girl’s nose, crumpling it with a splatter of red blood. He took his pain stick and shoved it hard into her mouth, smacking the back of her throat.

“That was a pathetic effort, bitch. You’d better work harder with our friends here or there’ll be a whole line of us waiting to torture you in the dungeons tonight.”

He stepped aside as another pair of dark elves appeared at the girl’s front and rear and, without preamble, rammed their cocks into her body. Her tongue was on fire from the burning ichor, but before she could even bring herself to start pleasuring the next vile creature, Kalrog drew a red-hot knive down her shoulder, all the way along her arm.

“Too slow, bitch, way too slow.”

Blinking back tears of agony and shame, the girl got to work again, sucking the stinking creature’s member with her lips and licking its shaft with her tongue. From behind, the second drak pounded into her, smashing her shoulders into the stocks and pressing her stomach into the lightning rod with each thrust. Alina’s agony and exhaustion was reaching a climax, but her ordeal was far from over. She desperately tried to make the creatures cum, but after each minute another burning iron was pressed into her bare flesh while Karym and Lathrak continued to press pain sticks against her to increase her torment further.

“Make me cum, slave bitch!” snarled the drak as he pounded his cock against her throat.

He used his fingers to twist and wrench the nails in Alina’s hands, the extra frission of pain exciting the drak as it shot through the girl’s body. Another red-hot iron was pressed into her breasts as another minute went by, and then a third and fourth. Finally the drak climaxed inside her mouth and Alina swallowed the copious amounts of ichor down her throat.

It was all pain and torment for the young woman and it went on and on for the next two hours. Dozens of elves had their way with her, filling her mouth and anus with so much ichor it was leaking out of every orifice. Alina could not count how many times she was burned with the hot irons. Her entire body was just one mass of agony, and when the creatures were finally done raping her, Kerym and Lathrak were there with pain sticks ready to continue her torture.

 

[corncobby]

“You filthy whore, I have never seen such a degraded, pathetic cunt in all my life. We’re going to enjoy breaking your bones on the rack tonight. But for now you can go back in the pit and do some fucking work for a change.”

They pulled the nails from her hands and opened the stocks, jerking the girl upright with a brutal crack of her spine. Karym drove a fist into her stomach and Lathrak pressed a pain stick hard into her kidneys. Alina’s body was covered with wounds of every kind and she could feel the agonising healing process working over every inch of her flesh, as though her blood was boiling within her veins. The poison from the stinging birch and the cactus gag had spread through her body, torturing every extremity, while her flayed and burned flesh brought pain that could barely be conceived. Karym punched her stomach again, crushing the air from her lungs, and cracked an elbow into her jaw. He grabbed her hair and pulled her along the dusty ground. When they reached the pit at which she had been working, they kicked her down the rocky sides as before, watching her naked body bump and crash down the rocks until she hit the floor with a sickening crunch.

Beluar and Vulmon greeted her with a pair of vicious kicks into her guts. One of the guards pressed a pain stick into her torn rectum while a second stamped down hard on her calves.

“If you’ve finished fucking like a whore, you can get back to doing some work, bitch,” Beluar snarled. “Here’s your pick axe.”

Before Alina could react, the drak swung the sharp blade of the axe into her bare thigh, stabbing her right through her bone. The 22-year-old screamed with shock and pain, only for boots in her guts to silence her once more. Beluar ripped the axe from her thigh and stomped on the wound with his boot, grinding his toes inside. Then he bent down and pulled the girl up by her hair, punching her hard in the guts. He swung the wooden handle of the axe into her breasts and headbutted the bridge of her nose. Vulmon, meanwhile, pressed a pain stick into her back while the guard smashed her hard against her wounded thigh.

This was just the preliminary to the next three hours of abuse as Alina was put to work. Her fellow slaves, preoccupied by their own pain and exhaustion, had barely looked up as she took her latest beating and they ignored her now as she began to swing the pick axe into the bedrock. It was fearfully hot, the mid-afternoon desert sun beating down on the women’s naked bodies as they worked without rest or water. Their torment was at its height after more than eight hours at work, and the guards had fed them koca leaves to keep them conscious as they continued their labour. Otherwise, they were forced on by the usual mixture of whips, blows and pain sticks as well as the threat of terrible torture in the dungeons at night if they failed to keep working until the end. The women swung the axes down in a fog of agony, exhaustion and thirst, desperately waiting for the waning of the burning sun that woud signal the end of the work day.

For Alina, it was all pain. The guards tortured her relentlessly, giving her not a single moment without pain sticks and rhino whips. Near her the young eighteen-year-old amazon Elise was also suffering terribly. The draks had hammered a spike through her ankles to force her to stand with her legs apart. As she swung the axe into the rock, they took it in turns to rape her bottom, frequently placing their boots on the spike to increase the agony in her ankles.

“You’ll spend the night in the dungeons with your princess, whore. It’ll be fun to see which one of you snaps on the rack first.”

This was Lathrak, who had descended the ladder to join in the abuse. He stepped on the spike as he rammed his cock into the young girl’s bottom, drawing a a strangled squeal of anguish from the helpless Elise. Alina could not help glancing across at her tormented young sister, the guilt at failing to protect her race welling up inside her once more. Vulmon saw the look and thrust his pain stick hard into her ass, fucking her with it just as his friend was doing to young Elise.

“I’m going to flay both of you cunts alive tonight,” he growled. “Then I’m going to boil your raw flesh in salt and roast you on a fucking spit. Your little whore friend here is going to get twice the torture she normally does thanks to you. How do you feel about that?”

If it had been her alone, Alina would have summoned up her courage and told the drak to fuck off. But if she did that, it would be Elise who bore the consequences as well and so she stayed silent, swinging the pick axe down dutifully as the drak continued to rape her with the pain stick. As the afternoon wore on, the torment continued all around the camp, a thousand slaves, both human and feya elf, worked and abused until their strength was utterly spent. The work day ended only when the sun went down. Then the camp fires were lit and the women dragged themselves up the ladders for their final meal of the day. They were each shattered beyond belief. The slaves laboured like this every single day of every single year, with the only breaks from work provided by protracted rape and torture in the dungeons. This was the fate that awaited at least a hundred of the women now, the current capacity of the torture chambers. The rest would be chained together in the pens, shivering in the cold desert air, praying they would not be dragged away at some point during the long dark night.

Alina’s fate was sealed, as was Elise’s. Lathrak, Kalrog and Vulmon dragged the two girls away to the prisons, kicking her down the stone steps to the deepest dungeon where a vast torture chamber had been dug out of the rocks. There they were joined by two more dark elves, Golrak and Vazal, as well as a number of goblins who spent most of their lives torturing the slavegirls imprisoned within the dungeon’s walls. Alina was hauled to the middle of the torture chamber where she would not be able to avoid seeing and hearing the torments inflicted on the younger girl. Lathrak thumped a mailed fist into her flat belly to double her over. Then he and Golrak picked her up by the arms and legs and threw her onto a large wooden rack. They snapped her wrists and ankles into manacles at each corner and motioned to the goblins to begin the slow turns of the rollers that would stretch the young girl’s body apart. The eighteen-year-old Elise was hung from chains several meters away with Kalrog and Vulmon standing beside her with a pair of gleaming knives.

 

[corncobby]

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“Every time you let out a scream, princess,” said Lathrak to the racked Alina, “we’ll flay a body part of your young friend there, starting with her back, then her breasts, then her stomach, bottom, thighs, calves, feet, hands and arms. If we end up flaying her whole body, she gets boiled in salt. Understood?”

Alina, consumed with her own pain, didn’t answer immediately so Lathrak, Golrak and Vazal pressed pain sticks into her breasts and private parts respectively.

“Answer, girl.”

“Yes,” the princess forced herself to say.

“Good. And when we’re done, whatever torture the girl has endured, you will suffer twice. Understood that too?”

“Yes.”

The draks loved to torment Alina in this way, making the torture of her subjects dependent upon the princess’s obedience, endurance and stamina. They had once rounded up a hundred slavegirls and tortured them all through the day in the open when Alina failed to prostrate herself to the dark elf king Myronir the Great. When they were done with the spectacle, they took Alina away to the dungeon and made her suffer an equivalent punishment herself, a hundred days of nonstop torture without respite, rest or sleep.

The draks laughed at the young princess’s humiliation. The girl’s limbs were already stretched taut and from now on every slight turn of the rollers would send agony shooting through her joints. Alina bit her tongue as the pain began to increase, but inevitably the racking was only part of the torment the draks had planned. As a goblin dragged over a huge brazier full of irons, Lathrak pulled out a red-hot spiked poker, Golrok a pair of burning heavy tongs, and Vazal a long spike that could be stabbed deep into the girl’s joints. They held them close to the girl’s face and enjoyed the look of fear and pain in her watery eyes.

“Nice and quiet now, girl. We have lots and lots of these to get through.”

The effort required to keep silent as a red-hot iron was being pressed into bare flesh was quite extraordinary, and even the strongest amazon would have struggled to match Alina’s willpower over the next hour as the two draks burned her over and over. Lathrak began by touching the hot poker to the soft flesh of her inner thighs, sometimes touching it lightly to her skin and rolling it gently up and down, other times prodding it in hard so that the girl could feel it pressed against her bone. Golrok used the tongs brutally, crushing her breasts flat between the burning ends and squeezing the flesh of her sides and armpits. When he done with the tongs, he switched to pincers with sharp serrated edges, cutting into her armpits to get at the ruptured ligaments of her shoulders and tearing the flesh of her thighs. At the same time, the goblins were turning the rollers at exactly the perfect pace to cause the girl maximum pain. Her shoulders were the fdraked to be ripped from their sockets, but the amarok kept the rollers rocking back and forth at the brink of dislocation, the pain growing inexorably with each vicious jerk. Vazal added to his agony immeasurably by forcing the red-hot spike between her joint and socket and cutting at the ligaments, tendons and muscles.

Somehow Alina held out without screaming, biting her lips until blood dribbled down her chin in a constant stream. Rather than earning the creatures’ respect, however, her defiance merely enraged them and encouraged them to torture her further. And of course Kalrog and Vulmon did not leave young Elise unmolested either, pressing pain sticks into her body as she hung spread-eagled on the chains. She was blindfolded so she could not see the horrors being perpetrated on Alina, and, having suffered the unmatched agony of flaying before, all she could do was pray the princess did not let out a scream.

It took the draks almost two hours to elicit the first cry from Alina’s lips, and though it was just a small involuntary squeal as her knees were torn from their joints, it was enough to make the amarok jeer with pleasure.

“You weak little whore, broken already? Well now you get to watch your little cunt friend have her back peeled off. I’m sure you’ll enjoy her screams.”

 

[corncobby]

Alina closed her eyes in misery and anguish as she heard Elise let out a piercing scream as the first strip of skin was peeled from her bare back. The princess herself had been burned with the hot irons from head to toe, the draks turning her over on the rack so that they could burn her back and buttocks. Lathrak had forced the spiked poker into her vagina and anus, fucking her with it with hard, brutal thrusts until it pierced her womb. There was no danger of killing the 22-year-old girl. The amarok could literally do with her as they pleased, impaling her entire body on a red-hot spit if they wished, as they so often did. Now the elves had moved from red-hot irons to boiling water. They poured it down Alina’s body and fdraked it into her mouth, filling her stomach until it swelled up grotesquely. The goblins beat her swollen belly with staves while the three draks tormented her with pain sticks, determined to force more cries from the princess’s lips.

Elise, meanwhile, continued to let out blood-curdling screams as the draks peeled the last strips from her back. While they had to be careful about going too far too quickly with the girl, who, even as an amazon warrior, did not have the unlimited stamina of Princess Alina, they were able to strike her flayed flesh with bamboo canes and roast it with burning tdrakhes, increasing the young girl’s torment minute by minute.

“Her perky little breasts will be next, princess,” hissed Lathrak. “And we’ve got so much of the night still to go.”

He removed the metal funnel from the girl’s mouth, her stomach now so full of boiling water it was practically fit to explode. Alina forced herself not to scream as the creatures continued to beat her with staves, torment her with pain sticks and whip her with canes.

“How about some lightning energy to take things to a higher level?”

Again, Alina had to bite her tongue to stop herself letting out a moan of anguish. She flinched as metal rods were pushed into her mangled vagina and anus and clips snapped painfully on her burned breasts. As she stared up from the rack, she saw the blue sparking current begin to run down from the copper wires until it entered her body, setting fire to her ravaged nerves. Lathrak grinned at her and smashed a pain stick hard across the bridge of her nose, breaking it painfully. The five other creatures standing around the rack tortured her at the same moment, and the combination of agonies wracked another desperate cry from the young girl’s lips. The elves and goblins crowed in delight, and Elise screamed as they cut a thin line across the top of her breasts and began to peel them slowly.

“Remember, whore, whatever they do to her, we do to you twice over,” Lathrak reminded Alina. “We could be here for a long time.”

The young woman’s body was broken now. The goblins had dislocated her limbs again and again, repeatedly snapping them back into joint in order to maximise her suffering. But there were more ways they could break her yet. Taking her from the rack, they threw her to the floor and began to twist her mangled joints in every direction. They bent her knees back against themselves, twisted her pelvis so that it faced the wrong way, snapped her arms at the elbows, and wrenched her shoulders back and stretched her arms down her back. The elves and goblins were ferociously strong and the girl’s lean and supple body was like a toy to them. With burns covering every inch of her, not to mention the myriad of wounds from the day left unhealed, Alina was nothing but pain. It was not long before she cried out again, after five hours of vicious torture her resistance finally beginning to break. Elina’s stomach was the next part of her body to be flayed, and while the draks and goblins listened to the young girl’s desperate screams for mercy, they pleasured themselves with Alina’s broken body on the floor. They pounded their thick scaly cocks into her burned-out vagina and anus and smashed her teeth out so they could thrust themselves into her mouth. With the energy emanating from the two girls’ agony, they were suffused with power. They exploded again and again in her mouth and orifices, filling her with burning black ichor.

 

[Madiosi]

Now in the libary:
https://www.cruxforums.com/xf/threads/crux-forums-e-book-library.4744/post-840488

and in the archive:
https://www.cruxforums.com/xf/resources/the-tale-of-the-eight-kingdoms-by-corncobby.1029/