The Sacrifice of Aeva

There was a loud snap followed by a scream from hell and a convulsion of Aeva’s body that almost threw the King off balance. 

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaagggggggggggggghhhhh!!!!!”

Her right arm had been pulled out of her shoulder’s socket and twisted in. Silas did not stop, riding the spasms away and continuing the pounding of his hips against the martyrized girl. He ran his hand over the unnatural shape of Aeva’s dislocated articulation, stroking the trembling skin tensed around the protruding end of the shocked woman’s bone.

Another shock rocked her body with the muted sound of something giving way inside of her, before her weight shifted strangely and she tilted to the right side. It was followed by another desperate rasp of a wail, a broken voice screaming its inhuman suffering. 

“Aaaoooooooooahhhhhhhhhhhrgggg!”

Her femur poked out the front of her hip, pulling on the skin of her mound. The unnatural bump started slamming against the repeated assaults of the King’s pelvis as he was burying his cock inside her over and over. Each of the King’s thrusts was another torture, forcing the dislodged bone to bend and scrape against her torn flesh inside. Her pain was far beyond what any person could handle while maintaining any shred of sanity. 

Aeva was now lost in a timeless world where the only thing that existed was excruciating pain. She could never have known it was possible to suffer so much. It was so horrific that even ignoring the crippling destruction of her body, she knew she could never have recovered from the pain alone. She just had to endure, let her body soak up the agonizing pain, and hope for her twisted mind to slowly turn her agony into masochistic pleasure. It was all but futile aspiration, her suffering was so severe that the sexual arousal she took from the torture was nowhere near enough to dull her pain even just a little. But she was still aroused in spite of it all. The darkest corners of her soul burnt an infernal fire and took a sick pleasure from the destruction of her body. Her subconscious fed on the pain, the distress, the fear of death and turned it in a vicious loop of ever increasing, self destructive lust.

Silas was now fucking her as hard and as fast as he possibly could, riding her agony, until finally he body-slammed her three last times with all his weight, straining her torn articulations even further and shooting for a second and last time his heavy load inside of her. Pushed over the edge by the violent rocking of her disjointed body, the raw pain and the dark fire inside of her merged into one. And then, it exploded with a thunderous force. Her senses were instantly flooded by a blinding light of extreme, raw sexual pleasure, for a short moment even dwarfing her most extreme pain. Everything turned white, there was a high pitch ear piercing sound and her broken body once more rocked and shook uncontrollably. The scream of agony that came out of her lungs turned into one of ecstasy.

- “AaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!”

Silas was panting, fixated on the shaking body of his agonizing lover. Her shape looked contorted, that of a broken and mutilated doll, The cuts on her chest cuts bleeding heavily, her mouth was half-open and her eyes had a crazed look, as if her mind had burnt out and fried. He pulled his blood-dripping member out of her ravaged hole and gave her a long, loving look, before addressing her in a soft voice.

- “I have been asleep all my life. It took your sacrifice to open my eyes and awaken me. I thank you, Aeva.”

After a long moment contemplating her resting body enduring the lasting pain of her vicious torture and assaults, The King walked to the shaman. He looked the frail man straight in the eye, extending his hand.

- “Your staff.”

The shaman was dumbfounded, it had always been the role of a holy man to close a sacrifice.

- “But my King, It is my…”

He did not finish his sentence, Silas would not suffer any contradiction. Yet his teachings were strong and his old hand was gripping the wooden shaft tight. The King spoke calmly.

- “Make me wait and join Aeva on the Sacred Rock…”

The old man cowered, and his trembling hand offered the Staff to his King before he retreated. The ruler turned to the crowd and addressed his people.

- “Brave People of the Dubhcloch clan! The Gods have spoken to me. The end of the storm is near! Pray to the Gods! Pray for the Healer who is giving her life and her suffering for us all! Pray for our Clan!” 

He had captured everyone's attention. The strong cry of their King rallied the spirit of the clansmen and women. One by one, they put a knee down on the cold, wet ground. They tilted their heads down in silence under the pouring rain. The clan was one, united in their prayer.

- “Rugar, Niel, with me. Untie her legs and spread her open.”

Each on his side, the two massive warriors severed the ropes around Aeva’s ankles, revealing a mess of torn skin and bleeding ripped flesh. Her feet, just like the hands tied above her head, had turned to a dark, cold shade of blue. They each seized one of her lower legs and pulled to their respective sides. The motion immediately made her arch her broken back, and she uttered a loud scream as her limbs started to open up.

- “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

It took the force of the two guards to pry the legs fully opened. Both of her tighbones had been pulled out of their sockets, and moving her legs was difficult, hampered by her inside flesh caught over the out of place bone. Her legs finally opened in a way that was all but natural, her knees and hips purple and black from a strain that had all but quartered her apart.

The King did not waste any time. He swung the long shaft, heavy with its intricate and sharp mounted black stone towards Aeva. He positioned the sharp tip against her bizarrely opened crotch, lowering it below her sex and lining it up with her assshole. Digging his heels and putting all his weight in the effort, he pushed in. The poor girl’s already bruised sphincter gave way and reluctantly tore open under the pressure of the black rock’s skin-cutting surface, eliciting another guttural scream from the broken girl. 

- “Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurg!”

Her asshole immediately started to bleed as the rock scraped and ripped its way in, disappearing inside of her. It went in by a foot and half under the considerable strength of the King, and only the shaft was now poking out of her blood-seeping hole. Silas did not relent, he pushed the implement further inside the girl, trying to bury the staff as deep as he could inside her, pushing with all his strength. The pressure was visibly wrecking Aeva who was uttering rasp screams, and twitching under the assault of the blunt weapon. The progress was blocked and the blunt stone inside Aeva could pierce no further.

The King pulled the shaft back, until part of the now gleaming-red rock appeared again out of her hole, and he slammed it back in, again, and then again, fucking her in great swings, trying to break through her insides from strength and fury alone.

Avea went into a deep, hoarse scream. Her voice was starting to fail her

- “uuuuuuuuuuuuuuaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggggg!”

At the fifth assault the strained guts of the poor girl finally gave way and the spear instantly penetrated more than a foot deeper into her. Aeva, already lost in a world of pain, felt her very core being ripped apart as the Sacred Stone penetrated deep into her body, lodging itself high up in her chest. There was a series of low moans rising from her throat, gradually developing into a broken gargling wail as the girl tensed and once again started to shake uncontrollably.

- “aaaaaaaa… aaaaaaaaaaaa… grbbll… aaaaAAAA… AAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!! AAAaaaarghhhhhuuuuu…glrbbb….”

Neither her nor her assaillants knew if this was a last fit of agony or a final, terrible orgasm. Blood soon poured heavily from her shaft stuffed rear asshole. Red also seeped from the corner mouth, the occasional cough spraying red speckles on her tortured chest. Her scream soon got muffled into a gargle from the internal bleeding. 

The King, as if he suddenly realized what he had done, opened his hands and let go of the wooden shaft, now securely held in place by the rough stones inside her chest. He signaled to his two best Guards to let go of her legs and withdraw.

Silas stepped back and looked at the gruesome spectacle of his agonizing first love. She was all but destroyed. Her hands were of a cold blue gray, with ropes crushing and tearing her wrists, her elbows reddened, her shoulder gruesomely dislocated. Her face was suffering in the rain, to a point very few would ever experience. She was twitching, tears laced with blood were seeping from her eyes, and red slime was dripping from her open mouth, slobbering down from her chin onto her neck and collarbone. The pale skin on her upper chest, bearing the deep cuts of the metal claw, was bleeding onto her skewered breast, and together with the deep cuts between her breasts, leaking blood onto her stomach. Her abdomen was barely heaving up and down from the weakest of breathing. Her crotch was smeared with layers of dried and fresh blood laced with cum and her own juices. Her sex was still gaping from the repeated rapes and was still slowly leaking blood. And below, a long wooden shaft was sticking out of her arsehole. The large stone shard mounted at its end had torn her intestines and was embedded deep inside her chest, painfully pushing against her most vital organs. Beneath her legs, the shaft was tilted, its end resting in the ground and maintaining the dying girl with her pelvis tilted forward, open for all to see. Framing her sex, the bones of her thighs were poking under her skin in gruesome large black and purple bumps. Her legs were half bent, her knees were red and swollen from the strain, her ankles were stripped of skin from the ropes and her feet,  of the same dark blue color as her hands, were resting awkwardly against the wet rocky ground.

In silence and respect, the King joined his people in their prayers, one knee to the ground, his hands resting on his ax in front of him, his head down, humbled by the ordeal Aeva had gone through.