Age of Penance - The Tear of Sarwen

Draven called for a halt to the torment so he could focus his mind. However he was not about to grant Elsie the same courtesy. He turned to the tall guard pinning her legs down.

- “Go ahead, have your way with her.”

The man sprung into action like a coiled trap. One hand pulling his erect cock from his hose, the other one reaching for her thigh and pushing it aside. Draven, the executioner and the other guard barely had the time to jump out of the way. Elsie gasped and instinctively tried in vain to close her legs, but there would be nothing to stop the guard from forcing himself onto her. He scrambled to position the tip of his throbbing member between her piss-soaked lips and then to thrust himself into her like a ram breaking through a door. 

He started to pump brutally into her cunt, holding her arms up with one hand, and alternating between squeezing her neck and pressing on her damaged breasts with the other. There were cries and sobs, she sometimes vaguely attempted to protest and fight back but it was pointless. She was exhausted, hurt and spent, and the man with his chainmail was at least twice her weight. The guard was eager, ferocious, Elsie’s ordeal had excited him for too long. All the while Draven was watching her struggle, trying to think of a way to break her. 

He came into her before long, giving her a lewd but satisfied look and a hard squeeze on her left breast, before withdrawing and standing up. Draven gave a quick look of approval to the second soldier guard, and he stepped in between her legs and pulled his cock out in turn. His half stiff member was already longer and wider than the one she was just assaulted with. By the time he was pressing between her legs he was hard enough to push himself into her. He started slower but steadily increased into a more and more forceful pounding. 

- “I’m going to wreck you so hard you’ll never forget the respect you owe men!” he aggressively told her while increasing the strength of his thrusts inside her.

By this time Elsie had given up fighting back. She looked resigned, letting herself be violated by the men of arms, her body and tits shaken by the assaults. The tall guard was standing on the side, enjoying the show, his cock already stiffening again.

- “Squeeze her tits!” he advised his colleague, “She tightens when you do!” 

The guard immediately pressed his hand on her left bruised breast. She opened her mouth to scream under the added pain, but the intensity was underwhelming, it seems there was not much more fight into her. Paying close attention, Draven noticed she was murmuring the same words again and again, barely audible. He stepped closer.

- “Please… please don’t damage me… please don’t damage me please…”

She kept the whisper going until the second soldier, who was impressive in endurance, came into her and pulled out. Her eyes were lost in nothingness, mentally she looked very far away. The first guard straddled her once more and pushed himself inside her, eager to enjoy a long satisfying fucking after his short first turn. When his pumps rose in power, she went back to her pleas. A sadistic but satisfied smile lit up Draven’s face. He whispered instructions to the Inquisition man who immediately exited the room. When he came back the guards had switched places one more time. There had been no respite for the girl, who had been continuously raped since the moment the torture of her breasts had stopped. It seemed she endured all that she could, at this point the solider was simply fucking a ragdoll.

*-*

A bucket of cold water snapped Elsie out of her torpor. She opened her eyes to Draven crouching directly above her face. She tried to turn her head away but was too weak to resist his hand grabbing her face and forcing her to look upon the object he was holding. She was still half lost in a haze when he started his explanation.

- “Take a look at this beautiful instrument. The sharp edges, the metal studs, the sheer size of it. Surely it will hurt when I force it into your already strained cunt.”

The threat seemed to somewhat bring her back. He brought it closer to her face so she could contemplate the viciousness up close. The object was a good foot-long piece of metal-studded hard sculpted wood, with a square cross-section as wide as a strong man’s wrist. It was topped by a pyramid, with sharp edges as well, the overall shape of the item being reminiscent of the obelisks found in the southern province of Sandvale, except it was wider at the tip. The sides were lined with large metal studs, themselves shaped like small pyramids. Her eyes were now wide open again, the thought of this object being pushed inside her sensitive sex had gotten her very worried.

- “Oh but that is not all, my dear Elsie. See what happens when I turn the base…”

What unfolded next truly horrified the girl. At the thinner bottom of the already monstrous object was a large metal loop. As soon as Draven twisted it in place, spaces started to appear along the four long edges along the shaft, and all the way to the point of the top pyramid. The whole object opened like a flower, still narrow at the base but expanding at the top. It was easy to imagine that the studs and the widening tips would lock into the flesh and gradually expand and probably scrape the sensitive insides. Draven kept turning and the apparatus opened further and further, reaching proportions which surely no woman could accomodate without suffering permanent damage. As composed as the girl had been, even under the brutal torture of her breasts, the sight of this new implement threw her into a frensied panic:

- “Oh no…. No…. please no… sir… please… I beg you… noooo!

Draven let her plea and beg, he didn’t even repeat his question. He handed the instrument of terror to the interrogator, and the four men took their respective positions once more. With her wrists and thighs secured by the soldiers, and with Draven grabbing her hair once more in a painful grip and forcing her to watch, the Inquisition positioned the tip against her bruised cum dripping cunt. With both hands he forced it inside, caring not that the girl had tightened herself up in terror, which made the unwanted intrusion all the more painful. She desperately pleaded, in vain. 

- “AAAAaaaaaah! Aiiiieeee! Noooo…… please……… nooooo! Please….. I beg you please……..”

No pleas would stop the four men, if anything, they were more turned on by her desperate cries. The two soldiers were leering as hard as ever toward the suffering girl. Draven on his side was observing the terrified girl. He let the torturer give three turns to the base of the vicious wooden cock, and let Elsie escalate her panicked hysteria.

- “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH! Nooooooooooo…….. Please No!”

The man kept turning once, twice more. The girl was bucking, throwing all the strength she had left into a last desperate fight. When she was arching her back, the expanded tip of the large instrument was grotesquely bulging her stretched abdomen. Draven was fixated on her face though, something was happening, she was losing grip. It was time to strike. He grabbed her face forcefully:

- “THE WAY INTO THE CONVENT, CUNT, OR WE RIP YOUR INSIDES!"

That was the crux of her fear. The strength that kept her fighting this whole time was fading, her screams were getting lost into the wails. 

- “No…. I can’t…. Please…. No….” she desperately pleaded.

For a moment she tried to convince herself that she could still fight, but she had already lost.

- “This is over. The way into the convent, now! And you can save what little is left of your womanhood.”

- “I… I… There is an incantation which can be spoken… I was taught by the Sisters. It opens a way into the rock… an ancient magic…’

- “Speak it.”

- “...buka… jalan… kepada… … dewi.” 

It was done, her face looked truly defeated.

- “I’m sorry…” she added in a soft voice, acknowledging her betrayal.

Draven vaguely recognized the words as “Sejarah”, an ancient tongue dating from the time of Elaryon that had almost fallen out of memory. Very few people were still practicing it, and the intonations were known to be almost impossible to master. It was likely the girl had learned to repeat the sounds through extensive practice, but that also meant they would need her to pronounce the incantation and open the way.

- “You did well, Elsie. It was not fair for those witches to lay this burden on you. You will show us the way, my dear. We will relieve your pain,” he continued as he gestured to the interrogator to unwind the implement, “but you must understand, the device will stay inside you.”

She didn’t even react. She was broken, defeated. It was clear to him now that she was just a common girl. She was probably helping with chores or something of the sort, entrusted with knowledge well beyond her rank either by excess of trust or simply carelessness. She had shown unusual strength already, well much more than Draven would expect from a commoner. But he was confident she had spent all the fight she had in her, and she would cooperate from now on. His job was done here, he stood up and adjusted his cloak.

- “We will go tomorrow at matins,” Draven declared.

He turned to the interrogator.

- “Prepare her but secure the instrument inside here. She must be restrained but able to walk. Use ropes and an effective gag. No chains, we must move in silence.” 

And towards the guards. 

- “Inform Lord-Commander Steren and Inquisitor Jael of our breakthrough. Do it in person and only to them. If you talk to anybody else, it will be in your head!”

He was walking out when the tall guard addressed him.

- “Agent Draven Sir, may we…” 

The guard was looking again at the sobbing girl with the same lewd eyes. Draven chuckled, and decided he should let the men celebrate their common victory.

- “Be wary not to cause any disabling damage,” he answered before continuing on. 

The soldier acquiesced, and immediately called to his mate to help flip the girl on her belly. Draven walked out to the tune of her renewed screams, from the pain of an eager cock being forced into a tight, probably previously unused hole. 

*-*

Draven felt the cool mountain air brush against his face as he set his dark steed in motion towards the “Pained Maiden” tavern. It was dusk already, time had flown by while he was conducting Elsie’s interrogation in the dungeon. He could feel the start of a deep exhaustion creeping in. He knew this would be the price to pay for his ambitious use of the “Glimpse of Deception” on more than a hundred girls. Granted, his scheme had been successful, but what good would it be if he was going to be fatigued beyond impairment on the next morning. He needed one more piece of good fortune on this day, and that good fortune he hoped had withstood her suffering on the wooden horse.

The tavern was bustling with activity in the early evening. The bare chested barkeep was busy taking orders and the maids were feverishly delivering drinks and food to the floor. The crowd was rowdy, hands were squeezing breasts, fingers were lingering high between the legs of the staff. And a few of the maids had fallen to the advances of the patrons. They were properly being fucked on the tables betweens the bowls of stew and the cups of wine. But the girls seemed in good spirits and their pouches were clinking of hefty tips given by their horny customers. For a reason beyond Draven’s understanding, the offbeat tavern seemed to stand as an unlikely haven to the brutality of the Inquisition. True, Draven had himself asked Steren and Jael to steer clear of the establishment, but the relatively honorable behavior of the crowd was still a surprise.

Over the rowdy cries and the overacted cries of pleasures from the workers, lingered a wailing, a pained cry that carried from the back of the room all the way to Draven’s delighted ears. Yaene was still riding her painful horse. As the rogue approached he saw she was shaking, still trying to balance herself between the uncomfortable pull on her painfully tight shoulders, the ankles that were throwing her out of balance, and the rope pulling her hips forward and her surely by now crushed clit onto the sharp edge. The barkeep, who had spotted him, hurried to his side.

- “Thank the Gods you have returned. I have done as you said and more, I have even offered to take her down several times, but she has refused. I fear for her wellbeing…”

The bare chested barkeep sounded genuinely worried. 

- “You have both done well. Haven’t I said I had faith in her? You may take her down now.”

The barkeep called for the help of the nearest maid and together they diligently worked to undo the knots and the ties, which had been tightened by a full day of struggle. Yaenne, finally alerted to the coming end of her struggle, turned her head towards Draven and tried for a subtle smile on her pain contorted face.

- “I… I held on for you…”

Draven returned her smile. As soon as the barkeep and the maids finished untying her she fell into his arms, not without letting a strident scream. The pain of her sex, pressed for a full day against a sharp wooden edge, suddenly being relieved of the pressure was being awakened to an excruciating release. 

- “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!!!!!”

- “Your suffering is my gift” Draven replied in a kind, benevolent voice. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, but was careful to lower her eyes. She knew not to abuse the kindness she was shown. The wood that had crushed and dug into her tenderness was stained of a dark red. The pressure had not only bruised her, but chafed her raw to the blood. Draven thought for a moment to make her walk on her weakened legs through the drunken patrons and up the stairs, but he had already tortured one girl beyond the breaking point today, and really needed Yaenne for himself if he was hoping to recover. Or maybe was getting unusually fond of this maid? Back in the room, he laid her on her back on the bed. She spoke in a weak voice.

- “Master, this is not my place, you are too kind to this slave…”

She was right of course, and in addition she had spoken to him without being expressly asked to. Those would be serious offences in Stormguard. Nevertheless, Draven let it slide. He convinced himself his need for recovery superseded over the proper disciplining of a slave.

- “There will be an exception for this night only…”

He saw her lips starting to move again, but she stopped as soon as she saw him pulling his truly massive cock out of his leather pants. Her expression returned to that of a slave worried about the severity of the upcoming ordeal, but the fight in her had left. Without any delay, he pushed himself inside her, drawing a truly unsettling scream for her voice. 

- “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

The massive cock carelessly rammed through the crushed and scraped flesh of her most sensitive place. It took a moment for her to calm down, to control her spasms. She dared to look him in the eyes to regain her focus. He did not stop her.

- “It truly hurts, doesn’t it?” he asked, looking straight into her clear blue eyes.

- “It does hurt very much, Master, maybe more than I can withstand. ” she replied, still attempting to catch her breath.

- “Then I am pleased. More than you can know, tonight I truly need my pleasure to be your pain.”

With these words he started to violently pound her bruised raw cunt. She couldn’t contain her screams, but to the best of her ability she opened her arms and her legs as a sign of total submission. 

*-*

The be continued in Chapter 6: The Trials of Slave XVI-LV