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Review This Story || Author: Lex Ludite

True Love

Chapter 13

					       True Love


				                  Chapter 13


	"As soon as Beverly regained consciousness and was judged to be capable
of enduring more pain they resumed torturing her. Up until then there had been a
great debate between the doctors concerning the role that sex should play in her
ordeal. One group felt that withholding sexual relief constituted a way of
frustrating her to the point that she would suffer severe mental anguish. Others
pointed out that sex combined with pain seemed to intensify both elements of her
psyche, and therefore should be a useful adjunct to the procedures that they
were employing to provide the highest level of physical pain. A compromise of
sorts was agreed to by the parties; Beverly would be allowed, even forced to
have orgasms while she was tortured. This approach would be used continuously
for a period of twenty-four hours. At that point a decision would be made
concerning which approach to employ until her stint in level zero was
concluded."

	"Minor surgery without anesthetic was performed on her clitoral hood,
snipping it back to allow her "hot button" to be even more sensitive to
stimulation. Another marvel of modern technology, a tiny metal cap capable of
vibrating or generating a rather impressive electrical shock to her clitoris was
stitched in place, sort of acting as a substitute for her surgically modified
clitoral hood. She was then douched with a solution that prevented her vagina
from lubricating. It had to be used carefully for fear that it would literally
burn away the mucous membrane lining of her birth canal. To judge the
effectiveness of this procedure one of the women donned a latex glove liberally
coated with a nettle-based paste and began to work her hand into my helpless
lady's vagina."

	"For the next hour Beverly was fisted continuously by the two women from
the handling team as she writhed in agony from the brutal scraping of her bone
dry cunt. She also attempted to deal with the swelling and itching associated
with the tiny silica needles filled with histamine that came from the nettle
paste covering the gloved fists that moved like pistons between her vulva and
uterus. Combating the terrible pain that Beverly so dearly loved was the sexual
pleasure she also loved, its genesis the tiny machine humming and sparking as it
stimulated her exposed clitoris to trigger a series of steadily intensifying
orgasms that rippled and pulsed through her straining body. Pain and pleasure,
in concert, then in opposition, pulling her from one side to the other, growing
stronger with each orgasm and convulsion, coming closer, than parting, a
maniacal dance to music that could not be heard, only sensed at some level
beyond consciousness."

	"It is not possible, as a man, to adequately describe the pleasure that
Beverly must have experienced during that day. The closest I can come is the
"little death".  As you probably know, the French have a word or phrase for
everything. It is also beyond my ability to describe the feelings that a
masochist such as my true love could have derived from the cruel tortures she
endured at the same time. Suffice to say that these opposing and at times united
forces tore away the final layers of protection she possessed."

	"Satisfied with the preliminary tests, her handlers set about to push
Beverly to her limits. They brought her to a very large room that had the
appearance of a medieval dungeon and stretched her out upon a wooden table,
fixing her wrists and ankles securely to ringbolts so that she was in the form
of a straining X, eyes staring up at the strange apparatus hanging over the
table. To complete her immobilization a metal collar held her head against the
table, preventing any motion. A long, thick vibrator covered with studs was
abruptly shoved deep into her cunt, bringing a gasp of pain from the helpless
captive. It was held in place using an epoxy-based glue that set in a matter of
seconds. The only way this devilish device could be removed by anyone except the
handler, would require the loss of considerable skin from her extremely
sensitive vulva, already inflamed from the nettles embedded by the lengthy
fisting she had just received."

	"A switch was thrown and the apparatus slowly descended, revealing
itself to be a bed of nails. Beverly cringed automatically as the nails
approached her naked body. The machinery controlling the bed's descent slowed
dramatically just before making contact with her body. Beverly had no
understanding of the fact that the nails were spring loaded, even when they
began to make contact with her stretched skin. Slowly the nails formed almost a
second skin over Beverly, yet her flesh was not pierced. From neck to ankles
hundreds, perhaps thousands of sharp nails were poised to do terrible damage to
her. Then the machinery stopped completely. When she took a deep breath of
relief the spring-loaded nails penetrated her shrunken breasts. The shock of the
unexpected pain caused her to struggle, bringing more pain as other areas of her
body were pricked to the point that tiny drops of blood began to dot her pasty
skin. Then the vibrator sprang into life at the same time as the clitoral cap
sent a small jab of electricity through her and it too began to throb."
	
	"For the next few hours Beverly experienced waves of pleasure from the
two instruments working on her sex organs. She paid a high price for these
orgasms, betrayed by her body that thrashed and bucked against the spring-loaded
nails, turning itself into a slab of bleeding meat with each new paroxysm that
exploded from the core of her being. Pain versus pleasure, pain intensifying
pleasure, pleasure driving the pain, slowly fusing into one overwhelming
sensation that blotted out the outside world of level zero. She was approaching
that thing that she knew, but did not understand. It was close, so close. She
had to let it absorb her and thereby set her free. Then there was the void,
nothingness; she had been found wanting once more."
	
	"It was the monitoring team that called a halt to Beverly's quest. The
sensor readings for her vital signs had reached dangerous levels, well beyond
any they had previously recorded. In light of recent events that had brought
their "patient" to the brink of death, caution overcame curiosity. Even with the
mechanical aids temporarily shut off, she continued to shudder and quake through
a number of sympathetic orgasms before becoming comatose. The bed of nails was
raised from her bleeding torso allowing her a brief respite to regain what
little strength she still possessed."
	
	"To all extents and purposes Beverly had been transported both in time
and space back to the days of the Spanish Inquisition. It was no coincidence
that this room had the feel and appearance of a dank dungeon buried in the
bowels of the earth, a place where the heretic was shown the error of her ways
and offered a choice of salvation or an agonizing death. For the rest of her
time in this chamber of horrors my true love would be treated as if she were an
enemy of the Church, possessed by Satan himself."
	
	" Her frail body was carried over to the modern version of the rack, a
gleaming metal marvel easily capable of stretching her limbs to the point that
their joints failed and the tendons were torn from the bone. Before it had been
modified for this terrible purpose the machine was used to test the mechanical
strength of various components. Unlike the rack it held its prey in a vertical
position and used hydraulics rather than leveraged wheels to develop the
enormous power required to literally tear heavy metal parts to pieces."
	
	"  Beverly's wrists and ankles were securely locked into the sliding
columns, and the machine was activated. The movement of the columns was rapid at
first, then as the strain on her shoulders and hips reached the point that a
groan escaped her lips from the first stab of pain, they slowed to an almost
imperceptible pace. Her groans turned to screams as the inexorable pressure
continued to build up in her joints. Then the machine went into neutral holding
Beverly's trembling body taut as a violin string. In this agonizing position she
presented many opportunities for her tormentors to add to her pain, and they
quickly took advantage of the situation."
	
	"Now Beverly was exposed to another of the indestructible elements of
creation, fire, in all its forms. She had some prior knowledge of its strength,
but now it would be experienced full force. She watched through eyes narrowed to
slits by the constant pain generated in her limbs as a brazier filled with
glowing coals was wheeled over to where she hung, straining in agony. This
primitive device seemed both appropriate for the dungeon like room that
currently housed her, and out of place when contrasted to the gleaming machine
that was poised to literally tear her limbs from her body. One of the handlers
began to place metal rods and branding irons into the bed of coals. They made a
hissing sound that reminded her of snakes ready to strike. Beverly turned her
eyes away, unwilling to count the number of torture instruments that occupied
the brazier, knowing full well that all would be used on her, perhaps more than
once."
	
	"One of the standard torments visited upon suspected heretics by the
Inquisition involved rubbing the victim with sulfur and then setting it afire.
In the case of women, their private parts, underarms, breasts and areas around
the face were prime areas for this form of torture. This was done to Beverly,
the only difference being that instead of sulfur, a form of gunpowder was
employed. The material was sprinkled over her flattened breasts, making sure
that liberal quantities covered her stiff nipples. Then one of the rods, now
glowing red was brought close to first one nipple then the other, setting off a
flash of intense heat that charred the flesh beneath the powder as it ignited.
Even though she was stretched to her limit, an immobile length of quivering
flesh and muscle, Beverly's body reacted involuntarily to the enormous pain. She
shrieked as her shoulders began to slip from their sockets. At this point the
glowing rod was laid across her shrunken breasts burning a deep furrow into her
flesh and searing the charred nipples anew. Beverly passed out from the pain,
her mind unable to handle multiple sources of agony occurring simultaneously."
	
	"For a period of hours Beverly shrieked until her vocal cords failed,
then made unworldly sounds instead as again and again and again her body was
anointed with the black powder that now adhered easily to her sweating skin and
then burned to the bone with glowing rods or branding irons after the exploded
powder had seared away the upper layer of her stretched skin. With time it
became more and more difficult to rouse her from where she retreated when the
pain overcame her body's defense mechanisms. It finally reached the point that
when they were branding her spavined buttocks they didn't bother to revive her
after she passed out the second time. Finally the monitors called a stop to this
treatment as the deterioration in Beverly's vital signs began to approach those
generated by her last visit to the tank."
	
	" Through it all, the terrible machine had kept her body stressed to its
limits. Now her handlers could not resist temptation, they engaged the machine
once more at its lowest rate setting and stood back to watch. Within a few
seconds there was a series of loud pops as Beverly's shoulders and hips were
pulled from their sockets. It was this insanely foolish decision that cost me my
only true love"



Review This Story || Author: Lex Ludite
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