{"loaderData":{"4":{"story":{"id":"91caba0a-7225-4f37-8f1b-fa1a10c7f5c2","seriesId":"2ccc1671-e286-4b70-ae2a-1035519cd799","seriesName":"Infiltrating Ashagen, the land of ultimate torture","currentUserId":"00000000-0000-0000-0000-000000000000","added":"2022-02-15T13:07:28.757Z","title":"Ashagen-05: Back To The City","slug":"ashagen-05-back-to-the-city","shortId":"T99UKOLl","authorNote":null,"disclaimer":null,"type":"Novella","paidUrl":null,"synopsis":"Chapter XXI - Jessica's last show\nChapter XXII - Ayala's death\nChapter XXIII - Back to Athis' dungeon\nChapter XXIV - The sweater cell\nChapter XXV - Sucking for her life\nChapter XXVI - Fight training","partCount":1,"parts":[{"partId":"d62328d2-248b-48b5-bf2e-7cb7f477d4d5","title":null,"summary":"Chapter XXI - Jessica's last showA couple of days earlier, in Ashagen's deepest dungeon...Jessica fe","wordCount":33388,"readTime":167,"number":1,"state":"Published"}],"currentPart":1,"contentTitle":"Chapter 1","content":"

Chapter XXI - Jessica's last show

A couple of days earlier, in Ashagen's deepest dungeon...

Jessica felt some relief. She knew she was to about to die. She knew she had failed to complete her mission, she had failed to stop the maddness going in the unholy city of Ashagen. But her mentor, the woman who had helped her so much was there, free and ready to finally purge Ashagen from the face of Earth. Despite her most professional training, Jessica had failed to gather any really useful information, except one. She had informed Aurelia about the third agent and that was the most important. She felt sorry for herself, she loved her life, which would soon be over. On the other hand, she had resisted all the torments and had not betrayed the Agency. This was the most she could achieve after having lost her mask so early.

Ashagen's agents knew there was something special about her but they never figured out why and how she was here, nor who had sent her and for what reason. She was ready to die, which meant the final escape from the untold, never-ending tortures she had gone through. She felt sorry and was afraid of dying, but she also felt some happiness. Her body was ruined beyond recover, and as a proud woman, death was the only way out of that horrible state. She felt happy for meeting Aurelia for the very last time, and also felt sorry for her fellow agent because of the torments Aurelia also had had to face. They were like sisters, and Jessica’s sister provided her relief by her presence. Jessica knew that her death was to be one of the most painful death ever on the world, but after the countless races she had endured, one more seemed as much as nothing, even if the final result was already determined. So Jessica was smiling when the guards finally came to take her to the event where she was to face death.

The whole dungeon had acted like a confused beehive after Aurelia had left her alone, right before the wicked woman Laura arrived together with a couple of guards. Oh, she was so furious! Jessica smiled at the memory. Laura turned into a fire blowing brimstone and wanted to punish someone right there and now. Bad luck for Laura, Jessica's feet were already completely destroyed; she had no toenails anymore - the last few having been extracted by Laura herself. There were no untouched part of her body and thus she was left alone. But only for a couple of hours. When the final time came and the guards released her from her upside-down position, the message was clear: the final race was going to start soon.

At the same time, in another wing of the same building...

Ayala finished to suck the third stallion's cock and gulped down all the sticky sperm the animal produced. The guards were finally tired of mocking and forcing the black slave to do different nasty and inhuman exercises. The black woman's physical condition was so bad that only her continuous pain and completely broken soul caused any joy to the wicked men, but the wreck's body did not turn them on any more. They lifted and dropped the used-up body into a big metal barrel and closed its lid. That was the \"vessel\" that was going to carry her to the place of her final show. Ayala landed upside down inside the barrel. She felt her legs being pushed inside, folded against her torso and then the lid was closed, pressing on her butt, cramming her some more into the cramped space. She tried to find a better position but she could not move and had to remain like that, drooling and sneezing horse sperm over the bottom of the barrel.

In the main showroom, 9pm

Laura was in very bad mood. She was sitting in her first tier box, comfortably stretching her body in the velour-covered armchair while her current pet, the woman called Trixie, was kneeling at her feet and lustfully licking her saliva-wet soles. But she was not happy at all! Her favourite plaything had just escaped from the castle outside Ashagen, and that had serious consequences. Laura knew exactly that no slave had ever managed to leave the city of untold horrors, so Aurelia's absence would only be temporary. But she missed a couple of things. Firstly, a great show. Aurelia was supposed to participate in one of the warm-up games of the evening, and due to her escape Laura was prevented to watch the panther-like beauty suffer. Secondly, Aurelia's escape meant that the redhead did not like Laura as much as she had told her, nor did she trust her. 'Fucking bitch! She deserves extra punishment for this!' she thought, bending her knee to push her toes deep into Trixie's throat. Laura loved to gag bitches with her queenly feet. Thirdly, her own plans suffered delay. The slave's escape meant that an unknown amount of time would be lost. Laura hated when control was out of her manicured hands. She knew that that was Aurelia's second escape. The first time, the redhead's actual owner, the trained ninja Athis, had brought her back. Athis was precisely sitting next to Laura and his beetle brows showed that he was upset too.

There was only one good thing in Aurelia's escape: the castle's owner and the master of the evening had lost face. It was the very first time that a slave was able to escape from his house. Athis wanted to track Aurelia down by himself but Count Greyhound, their host, offered the best hunter service and begged Athis to stay. As Aurelia did not attend to the game, Athis had lost a big potential sum in bets, so Greyhound generously offered him a pretty big amount of money as compensation. Athis had thus to stay not to offend the Count.

'By the way... this might mean that Athis will be ready to lose all of his money earlier than I expected...' Laura thought. She stared at the stage with bored eyes. A small Asian girl had just stuffed the fourth snooker-ball-sized sphere into her anus. Her opponent, a similarly skinny white girl, already had all five inside her. It was a very boring competition. The ladies were supposed to run around the stage with the five balls in their ass, and the first who dropped a ball was the loser. The balls were made of iron and a battery inside them slowly heated them up. Many Ashagen citizens loved that game because of the extremely wild belly-dancing the competitors performed. They were wearing high-heeled leather boots, and as their feet were hidden, Laura had no interest in the whole show at all. Otherwise, she liked that kind of small and familiar shows much better than the big, crowded games in the Pain Bringer and the Final Scream arenas. She was waiting for the main attraction, where two battered slaves were to fight against each other, and most likely both of them were to die. One of them, the legendary bitch called Jessica was Laura's property, she had just bought her a couple of days ago, only as a favour to Aurelia.

'That ungreatful bitch!' Laura railed again, grabbing Trixie's tonsil between her big and second toes, squeezing the sensitive gland. The former gang-woman moaned in misery, coughed and even shrieked in a high-pitched voice, but otherwise she remained motionless and did not dare to touch Laura's foot with her teeth. Trixie had proved to be a very submissive and obedient pet, except when she had to torture other female slaves. Laura enjoyed Trixie very much. She liked Trixie's feet too, but had decided not to kill the bitch for the moment. It was so hard to find such sadistic and still submissive lesbians on the market...

In the main showroom, 10:30pm

The last game was over and the evening was heading toward the grand finale. Laura, just like the other hundred peoples around, was eager to see some really nasty and inhuman cruelty, as no slave had yet died during that evening. Not yet, but the last game was supposed to be a really nasty one. Laura was not excited. She has seen both slaves in arenas before and she had no doubt that her own, the veteran fighter Jessica was the clear favourite. Even if she was in a more battered condition than her opponent. Laura had bet a moderate amount of money but she did not care too much. Her wealth was not at risk.

The servants started to build a completely different layout on the stage, which was circular, around ten metres in diameter. The audience was sitting around, 1.5 metre above the stage. A half-metre-high parapet separated them for the stage. The parapet could not be higher as the audience was resting in armchairs and sofas, surrounded by slaves and servants in their private boxes. They needed room and an unobstructed line of sight. However, the last game was special and the audience had to be protected. Both from the competing slaves and from the special equipments on the stage. \"T\" shaped, completely clean and transparent plastic walls were erected along parapets. They stood almost 1.5 metres above the top of the parapets, the horizontal part of the \"T\" creating a 50-centimetres roof. This would prevent the slaves from jumping over three meters to climb the walls and the roof would make the attempt even harder. Of course everybody knew that the main reason was not to keep the slaves on the stage. The main reason was to keep hot steam, tongues of fire, spurting acid, flying metal objects inside the stage.

The edge of the stage floor was permanent, but the middle of the stage was built of 5x5 small, square iron desks of size 1,5 metres each side. The servant removed four desks from the four corners of the 5x5 square, and also removed the 5 cross forming desks from the middle. The corners were replaced by robust square shaped cauldrons which top was at the same level of the whole stage. Each of the cauldrons were around half metre deep. Into the \"+\" shaped middle part also five sunk objects were placed which formed a connected vat of 50 centimetres deep. Every components of the new stage were bolted steadily. On the top of every middle desk at the sides of the square metal grids were bolted, from every grid dozens of shiny, sharp, vertical needles were standing. The four desks around the central vat (which complemented the + into a square) small holes were opened (four holes on every desks) and the stubs of iron tubes pulled out from under the stage. As one of tha last preparations two desks next to opposite corner caludrons were also replaced by deeper, around one metre deep vats. Finally the servants placed seven small red flags with around half metre long ironic staffs in the middle of the corner cauldrons, in the middle of two opposite needled desk and into the central piece of the \"+\" shaped vat. Small sockets ensured the flags stayed in place.

The new stage was tested soon for the audience's great amusement. First three meters high, angry and loud flames burst out from iron tubes portruding from the four desks around the central vat. The fires were burning for twenty seconds, flashing hideously. Secondly the central vat was started to filled up with light yellowish liquid until it was 60% full, having around 30 centimetres deep bath. Clean oil. Huge gas stoves began to work under the stage and the oil in the central vat slowly heated up, the clear liquid's hastening stream showed that clearly. Thirdly the four corner cauldrons were filled up with water clean, neutral looking liquid, but everybody who were sitting around knew the difference between water and raw acid. The cauldron's filled upto 30 centimetre high too. Next the two small vats were filled up icy water, completely. And finally a metal frame lowered above the stage, just stopped around 2,5 metres high. The frame was square, the sides of the square were just above the sides of the 5x5 stage. It was completed with an X form connecting the frame's corners. The rods of the frame were around 5 centimetres in diameter, shiny metal material.

\"My valuable guests!\" Laura heard the Count's voice. \"I'm proudly present you the last game of tonight, the main show of my private arena. Those of you who have already seen the game called \"Dangling Darlings\" know what a spectacular show is waiting for us! Two contestants will fight against each other, and there can be only on winner! I can tell you that at the end of the game none of the constentats will look like a human being. Actually, they usually lose their human look after a couple of minutes. For that reason we usually select battered slaves at the end of their career, there is not too much to lose this way. We pump the slaves full of combat drugs to make them provide us a really special show and also for avoiding faints. No need to worry, I can assure you that THEY DO FEEL PAIN! No drugs or painkillers could cover the effect of the pain they will face very very soon! There is one question; why is it worth for them to fight? Simple answer. To gain a fast death. We showed the contestants hours of videos from the Mengele Institute's psychopatric department. The guys at the Institute can keep alive even the worstly damaged bodies for a long long time, and though those bodies could never bring any pleasure to Ashagen citizens they can still be useful for medical experiments. Believe me, our darlings understood that fast death is far the best option they can wish for! Let me introduce you the game area and the rules. Every piercings, modifications are removed, our ladies do not need them anymore. All they need is their naked body, their strength and their vocal cords of course! First class screaming is guaranteed! The contestants starts the game from the two water filled field. They are free to go back there anytime they want, or anytime when they cannot stand \"hot\" sensations...\" the count laughed and his audience joined him, including Laura.

\"They can freely move around on foot or jump and grab the frame hanging from the ceiling, moving by their arms. The circle of the stage, outside the square is forbidden, our guards will stand around the push back the slaves if they step onto the outer line of the arena. The gas stoves launch flames randomly, the duration of the flaming is random as well, but I can tell you that's happening quite often. The goal is simple: the winner has to collect 5 flags out of the seven and get back to her starting point. One of them must be the flag from the central field! The problem of carrying the flags is their concern. All the flags - including the staffs - are made of acid-resistant aluminium alloy, so flags will not perish during the game. The end of the flag staffs are pointed and sharp, giving the slaves the chance to place the flags into their flesh, if they can't find out anything else. As you can see the flags cannot be picked up while hanging, at there is also extreme risk to bend above the cauldrons, but this is something our lovely contestants must worry about. At the corners we filled the strongest sulfuric acid, in the middle the oil is heated up to 300 degrees. The funny thing about acid is that the actual burning and melting starts only after some seconds, so clever slaves can have a good use of the icy water vats too. Otherwise, there are no rules. The winner will be hanged by her neck right after the game, and the loser has to face the hospitality of the Institute. Enough of talk, let me introduce you the stars of this wonderful night!\" the Count shouted and two doors opened at the two opposite sides of the stage.

The middle of the stage was occupied by 25 150-cm-wide iron cubes fixed side by side in a five-by-five pattern. The servant replaced the cubes of the four corners and replaced them with 50-cm-deep basins, which were filled with acid. Five cubes placed in a \"+\" pattern where removed from the centre of the stage and replaced by a 50-cm-deep vat, which was filled with oil. On the top of the four cubes placed at the centre of the sides, square metal grids were bolted, bristling with dozens of shiny, sharp, vertical needles. The four cubes surrounding the central vat had each four stubs of iron tubes pulled out from under the stage, connected to gas tanks. Two cubes next to diagonally opposite corners acid basins were also replaced by one-metre-deep tubs, filled with icy water. Every component of the new stage was bolted sturdily. Finally the servants placed seven small red flags with a 50-cm-long aluminium staff in the middle of the acid basins, in the middle of two opposite needled cubes, and into the centre of the oil vat. Small sockets ensured the flags stayed in place.

The new stage was tested to the audience's great amusement. First, three-meter-high, raging, loud flames burst out from the iron tubes protruding from the four cubes around the central vat. The fires burned for twenty seconds, flashing dangerously. Then, huge gas stoves began to work under the stage and the oil in the central vat slowly heated up. Finally a metal frame lowered until it was 2.5 metres above the stage. The frame was square, its sides just above the sides of the 5x5 stage. It was completed with an X form connecting the frame's corners. The rods making of the frame were 5 centimetres in diameter, of shiny metal material.

A: Acid basin, N: needles, W: Icy water tubs, F: Flames, O: boiling oil.

\"My valuable guests!\" Laura heard the Count's voice announce. \"I'm proud to present you the last game of tonight, the main show of my private arena. Those of you who have already seen the game called \"Dangling Darlings\" know what a spectacular show is waiting for us! Two contestants will fight each other, and there can be only one winner! I can tell you that at the end of the game none of the contestants will look like a human being any more. Actually, they usually lose their human look after a couple of minutes. For that reason, we usually select battered, end-of-carreer slaves. There is not too much to lose this way. We pump the slaves full of combat drugs to make them provide us a really special show and also to prevent them from fainting. No need to worry, I can assure you that THEY DO FEEL PAIN! No drugs or painkillers could attenuate the pain they are going to face very very soon! There is one question: what makes it worth for them to fight? Simple answer: To earn a quick death. We have shown them hours of videos from the Mengerle Institute's psychopathic department. The guys at the Institute can keep alive even the worstly damaged bodies for a long long time, and though those bodies could never bring any pleasure to Ashagen citizens they can still be useful for medical experiments. Believe me, our darlings have perfectly understood that a quick death is by far the best option they can wish for! Let me now introduce you to the game area and its rules. First class screaming is guaranteed! The contestants start the game from the two water-filled tubs. They are free to go back there anytime they want, or whenever they cannot stand \"hot\" sensations...\" The Count laughed and his audience joined him, including Laura.

\"They can freely move around on foot or jump and grab the frame hanging above them, and crawl along it. The area around the square stage is forbidden. Our guards will stand around and push back the slaves if they step out of it. The gas stoves launch flames randomly, the duration of the flaming is random as well, but I can tell you that's happening quite often. The goal is simple: the winner has to collect five flags out of the seven and get back to her starting point. One of them must be the flag from the central field! The problem of carrying the flags is their concern. All the flags - including the staffs - are made of an acid-resistant aluminium alloy, thus, contrarily to our heroins, they will not get damaged during the game. The end of the flag staffs are pointed and sharp, giving the slaves a chance to place the flags into their own flesh, if they can't find out anything else. As you can see, the flags cannot be picked up while hanging from the frame. It is also extremely risky to bend over the acid cauldrons, but this is something our lovely contestants must worry about. The corner basins are filled with the strongest sulphuric acid. The middle vat contains oil that is heated at 300 degrees. The funny thing about the acid is that the actual burning and melting starts only after a few seconds, so clever slaves can have a good use of the icy water tubs too. Otherwise, there are no rules. The winner will be hanged by her neck right after the game, and the loser will face the hospitality of the Institute. Enough talking. Let me introduce you the Stars of this wonderful night!\" the Count shouted.

Two doors opened at the two opposite sides of the stage. From one of them a man appeared rolling in front of him a metal barrel. Her pushed it all the way to the stage, where he stood it up before opening its lid. Everybody laughed as the only thing that could be seen at first were a pair of feet next to a pair of black buttocks, surrounding a sex whose labia were incredibly elongated and adorned with heavy rings. The man grabbed the rings and pulled on them. Immediately, the body to which the labia belonged began to stir frantically, twisting its legs, humping its butt, it was able to get out of the barrel. Ayala blinked in the harsh spotlights, looking around herself, trying to guess what was awaiting her.

The Black girl was a real wreck. She missed several teeth. The words 'cunt' and 'slut' were branded on her cheeks. Countless rings had been embedded through her flesh: about ten rings through her lips, another dozen in her cheeks, more along the line of her long-gone eyebrows. Even her upper eyelids were ringed and connected to her eyebrows, preventing them to protect her eyes. The septum of her nose was pierced by a long, thick steel rod, which protruded by 10 centimetres on each side and was prevented from sliding. It sported a large ring at each end.

The ring and index fingers of both her hands were paralysed, standing upwards at a right angle. Her breasts were grotesquely humongous. Her nipples were connected by a heavy, thick chain. A one-metre-long steel rod was pierced through the middle of the flesh of her breasts, with forks preventing them to slide. Large rings were dangling from its ends. Her dark body was covered with uncountable scars and burns. Her nipples were stretched to nearly five centimetre long by a small conical armature that was screwed in her areolae and pierced through her nipples. Below her breasts, each rib bore a wide ring pierced through her flesh around the very bone, forming a double line of steel. A similar set of rings was inserted in her back, from the bottom of her shoulder blades to the last of her ribs. Two rings were pierced behind the two tendons framing the crook behind each of her knees. A large ring was also inserted behind each of her Achilles’ tendons, dragging on the floor when she walked.

Heavy rings were dangling at the end of grotesquely elongated labia. Her sex was gaping unnaturally wide because of the corkscrew-shaped rod of steel that had been shoved into her vagina, stretching it permanently to a diameter of seven centimetres. A similar device adorned also her rectum. Both orifices were discharging constantly a yellowish, sticky, disgusting substance. The nails from both big toes had been torn off.

Ayala's arms were seized and pulled hard in her back, immobilising her torso. A second man approached from the front and cut the link connecting her upper eyelids to her eyebrows. He then poured a few drops of a saline solution into the Black's dry eyes. She blinked a few times, feeling the soothing liquid enveloping her raspy eyeballs, healing them and restoring some of her vision. She could not focus her sight, and the world around her was still enveloped in a whitish haze, but it was enough for her to distinguish some of the horrible details of the stage awaiting her.

From the other gate a wheeled cage was pushed, containing a cramped woman body. A door was opened on the front of the cage and the girl was yanked out by her hair. Jessica fell in a heap on the floor before being yanked on her feet.

She was in a miserable state indeed. Her forehead was bearing the overlaid branded slave marks. Her face was skinny with her cheek bones all but piercing her skin. There were small holes in the sides of her nose and her lips, as well as larger ones through her cheeks. Her eyelids had been sewn together with black thread. Her teeth had all been broken to odd stumps barely emerging from her puffy gums. Her left breast was totally missing, while the right one was in tatters: its nipple and areola had been torn away, it was covered with burns and holes, and it had been stretched so that it looked like an empty sack going down to her navel. Three double-pointed, 40-centimetre-long, metal spikes were pierced horizontally through the muscles of her belly. Her crotch had been utterly roasted and destroyed, leaving no external organ remaining. A 20-centimetre-wide tube had been forced into her vagina. Countless screws had been embedded deep in the muscles of her buttocks, their heads protruding out. Her thighs were marked with dozens of wounds and burns with small white maggots swarming around them. The last phalanges of some of her toes had been cut off, although her big toes were still whole. Of course, all her nails had been removed from both her hands and feet.

’This is going to be nasty…’ Laura’s body shivered from head to toe when the utterly destroyed females arrived to the stage. She knew both of them, she had played with both of them. Unfortunately when she had met them their feet were already heavily injured due to different torments and mainly due to different cruel games the slaves had participated to earlier, but Laura had still been able to entertain herself by extracting some of their intact toenails. She checked the bracelet on her left wrist. It was only half-way ready as several parts were still missing, but it already had thirty, beautifully cleaned and shiny, colorlessly polished extracted big toenails. She playfully searched for Ayala’s and Jessica’s nails and stared at the wide and strong pieces of horn with delight. She knew by heart every piece of her collection, she remembered the faces of the slaves and those two who were just about to die a painful death belonged to the high-quaility specimens.

’How strange, that after extraction there is no difference between the nails of black and white slaves…’ she smiled of her own thoughts and felt that her pussy wetting again. She opened her legs and yanked Trixie’s leash towards her crotch.

„Lick! But slowly! This is just the warm-up!” she said and Trixie was more than eager to obey the command.

The cotton yarn that held Jessica's eyes shut was cut so she could open them again, maybe for the last time in her life. She was standing there at the edge of the stage, watching all the cruelty that had been created to make her die a painful death. Everything was explained to her while she was waiting at the entrance, and then she could hear the showmaster’s words, understanding her situation completely. The torture games of Ashagen were usually simple, and they all had in common that no matter what she had done, she had to suffer a lot. The vats at the corners looked like they were just filled with water, but she understood too well the difference between water and pure acid. Acid… unbelievable cruelty. And the hot oil vat in the middle. She could see the liquid convecting slowly. No bubbles, no hot steam but still three times as hot as boiling water. All that could be seen was the shaking of the air above the surface as it was heated and bubbled upwards. Just getting close to the surface of that infernal pot must hurt like hell!

She was in so much pain! No human being could ever have kept his sanity after so many hours, days, weeks of continuous torture without having the most effective pain-threshold increaser and mental disciplines training. No slave before had survived so many games as her, and she was still able to think, she was still able to feel, she was still able to fear. No spot of her body had remained untouched. Every step she did caused hellish agony. The maggots that were twirling around the deep wounds on her thights were feeding on her flesh all the time. There was only one good thing in the acid, fire and hot oil: she could finally take her revenge on the maggots and roast them together with her own flesh! That was the best she could do: killing blind, disgusting, brainless maggots as her ultimate revenge. Meanwhile the real maggots, the human-demons of Ashagen, were cheering at her suffering while drinking red wine. She had no clue how to fight while being in so much pain, but anger started to burn inside her young heart.

One of the guards stepped to her and inserted a syringe right in the middle of her remaining mangled, hanging, distorted breast. The syringe was emptied and she felt the drug spreading accross her body. The pain started to easen almost everywhere at the same time, meanwhile she felt the effect of a big adrenalin dose. She grinned with her broken teeth and all available muscles in her body tensed suddenly. She was ready to fight, she was ready to die.

The same process was repeated on Ayala, except that half the syringe content was injected in both her humongous breasts. As Jessica, she felt her pain lowering while her energy surged up. Suddenly, she knew that she would be able to overpower that stupid, weak white bitch.

Both girls were then led to opposite sides of the stage and dropped in their own icy water tub.

\"May the strongest girl die quickly!\" the Count said, announcing by these words that the game had started.

Ayala did not lose a second. Next to her tub was one of the acid-filled basin. She jumped over the separation, landing in the dangerous liquid which splashed around her. Her heavy breasts bounced, pulled down by the heavy spike that was pierced through them. He countless rings jingled as they shocked each other. Immediately she felt acid biting into her feet and lower legs, making her groan in pain. She felt the acid burning the soft flesh on her big toes, on the area that her now gone nails had protected. She also felt the burning liquid penetrating the hole behind her Achilles' tendons, along the large rings they harboured.

Grimacing, she grabbed the top of the flag staff and tried to pull it out of its socket. It resisted a little bit and then she got it out.

With a grin of victory, Ayala tried to go back to the water tub as her feet were screaming as they were devoured alive by the acid. Unfortunately, as she lifted her right leg over the thin wall separating the two basins, her left foot slid on the floor. Feeling that she was losing her balance, Ayala desperately tried to pull herself into the water. In her panic, the flag staff she was holding in her right hand got entangled with the spike pierced through her heavy breasts and which was protruding on both sides of them. The pain she felt in her breasts increased the precariousness of her situation. With a long scream of terror, she fell back into the acid basin. Her hand let the flag fall, which, by luck, fell in the water tub. At the same time, Ayala's body crashed into the acid, splashing it all around. She felt it burn her whole legs, her butt, her crotch, her breasts. She only managed to keep her head above. Her screams of agony were echoing through the arena.

Mad from pain and terror, Ayala tried again to get on her feet but panic was crushing her heart and she fell back in the burning soup. The acid continued to attack her skin and flesh, penetrating through all the holes that had been pierced in her body, causing a heart-shuttering agony. The agony was so tremendous now that Ayala was on the verge of collapsing. Only the drug she had been filled was still keeping her awake.

She was sitting in the shallow acid and once tried to stand up to escape the deadly bath. This time, with a scream of terror, she managed to do it.

Standing with wobbling legs, her skin dripping with the burning liquid, she walked to the water tub, trying to let herself fall back into safety, her mind struggling to stay awake. She realised that fainting in that basin was synonym with death. The pain was weakening her. She nearly fell again but managed this time to fall over the wall separating the two basins. With a long moan, she slid into the icy water, feeling the fresh liquid washing the burning acid and soothing her pain.

Ayala sat down in the water, panting hard, trying to calm her fear-stricken heart. Slowly, she felt the water relieving the pain, washing the acid away in all crooks and holes where it had penetrated.

She remained calm a little longer, waiting for her heart to slow down to a normal pace and for the pain to recess to a bearable level. Her left hand felt around and found the flag. She grabbed it and felt some comfort at the idea she had collected her first point. She would never have imagined getting out of the acid would have been so difficult. How could she have forgot how much her agility had been reduced by the continuous tortures she had endured and all the piercings that were weighing her sore body. Standing back up out of the water, she looked around to see how her opponent was doing.

The adrenaline was working strongly in Jessica’s veins and as soon as she was let to go she measured her chances. From the corner of her eyes she saw the Black slave starting to move desperetaly and Jessica knew exactly that time was tight. Right next to her there was the acid basin. The water-like liquid seemed so harmless. Acid. Acid and water, water could neutralize the acid! The most logical and less risky step was to take that flag from the acid and climb back to the water, no doubts about it. So the horribly mutilated woman whose life had been ultimate agony for such a long time started to cross the short distance between her vat of water and the acid basin. Even if some of her toes were mutilated and the missing toenails decreased heavily her balance she was a trained and very skillful athelete. She jumped from the water and arrived into the middle of the basin filled with acid, the agressive liquid splashed around her calfs. The jump succeeded, and she managed to keep her balance perfectly. She felt some light pain everywhere in her body but the stimulant made it possible for her to completely ignore it.

For a second nothing happened, the acid started very slowly eating its way into her feet. Jessica grabbed the flag and yanked it out easily. She turned around facing the water again when the first wave of burning pain hit her. Without further delay she sprang again, raised her legs high as she left the pool of acid. Holding the flag between her nailless fingers she managed to absorb the jump in a perfect way again, although the burning feeling caused by the acid made that jump less spectacular but just as effective. She landed in the water with a big splash, the last drops of acid were rapidly dissolving in the water. She felt victorious, especially when she heard the desperate screams of the Black slave, who had fallen into the acid at the opposite end the stage. The Black’s shrieks and thrashing made Jessice feel much better, unlike her competitor, she had managed to take the first flag without any serious damage!

She looked down at her tortured feet which were of an angry red from the burn of the acid, but in the cool water the pain was strongly eased and she stayed there for a while until the pain had almost completely faded. She had been fast enough, the acid hand not made any real damage to her peds! While resting in the water she tried to force the rod of the flag between her belly and the skewers puncturing her belly muscles, but the rod was far too wide to fit into that tight space. She took it into her mouth, ignoring the sharp pain radiating from her broken teeth and jumped to the frame above her.

Her throbbing fingers grabbed the shiny frame and Jessica hung there for a second, admiring the Black’s suffering as the poor wreck finally climbed back to her feet and somehow throwed her body over the water vat. The Black slave’s body looked like smoking from several spots, the acid was eating deep into her skin and burning her.

Jessica regained her focus and started to progress along the frame, slowly, carefully. Her nail-less fingers were far from being as effective as before. She scrambled over the acid basin and looked down, the surface of the acid was still rippling slightly after her visit. Her toes were around 30 centimetres above that hellish liquid, but she tried to spare some strength and did not rais her legs. She had to be able to leave the acid behind! So she did, she turned ninety degress on the frame and started to progress towards the field in the middle of the stage’s side, where another flag’s red silhouette invited her. She was in hurry, she wanted to collect the five flags as fast as possible to be granted a fast death. The sanctuary of fast death was all that was left to her, and despite her drugged mind she clearly understood, that death was by far the best goal she could achieve.

She had now almost passed one of the few harmless fields and was arriving above the dangerous looking needles, when her exhausted fingers suddenly slid from the frame. A sudden burst of high flames right next to her brought a wind of hot air and that was enough for her to lose focus. She tried to dig her fingers into the frame’s rod and she might have been successful had her nails been intact, but the tip of her fingers proved useless. She fell down from the frame and arrived on the empty field, a couple of centimetres from the standing needles. Her instincts did not let her fall and she landed on her feet, keeping her balance. She groaned angrily but having a closer look at the needles made it clear that stepping from the side between the needles was still a better option than falling from above. She looked at her Black opponent, who was standing in the middle of the cold water, splashing the cooling liquid onto her seriously burned body, holding a flag. The race had just started.

Ayala felt the cool water relieve the burning of her skin. She had seen Jessica's successes and was knew she was lagging behind. She had to do better if she wanted to escape Dr Mengele's institute. As she rested, she had seen several bursts of flames spitting into the air, next to her safe basin. The idea of getting roasted by one of these was scaring her and she decided it would be better to face the needles and oil pits. She decided to climb onto the frame to avoid walking on the spikes. Grabbing her hard-won flag between her teeth, she jumped and her strong hands seized the bar above her.

Swinging her strong, dripping body, she progressed along the bar, her hands gripping it firmly. Her feet were swinging above the sharp needles and she shivered at the thought she might fall upon them. She forced her mind to focus on her task and continued her progression along the northern side of the arena. The strong muscles of her arms were bulging as she was hanging under the bar and scrambling forward. The heavy spike pierced through her breasts was bouncing in rhythm with her efforts but the fight drug her brains had been filled with was now allowing her to ignore it. She scrambled along the bar until she was sure she was way clear from the needles. Under her was now an empty, harmless field. In front, she could see the next acid basin, with its flag protruding in the middle. Maybe she could try and grab it with her feet? She continued, hearing flames exploding on her left. She was now hanging just above the acid basin. She now clearly saw that the flag was way out of reach as its tip was just above the surface, 25 cm below her toes.

Jessica stopped for a short moment and stared at the spike-sized needles portruding from the ground. Several long, sharp pointed, shiny metallic spikes were glittering in the strong light of the huge lamps which were bathing the whole stage in their light. Each needle was around 15-centimetre long and were settled very densely, at least 30 or 40 of them were standing on the field. Normally, if her legs would have had their full capability Jessica would have been able to walk through the spikes without suffering any real damage, but in her battered condition she had doubts about her success. Another angry burst of hot flames blowed through the air very close to her and Jessica had to push herself towards the spikes. She was suffering too much, her body was horribly ruined and the nightmare was still running, but she had a good chance to finally finish it. She grinned and stepped between the spikes, placing her drawn, mutilated, nail-less, bloody and acid-burnt toes between the spikes. She had to force herself onto the very tip of her toes which proved to be almost impossible, some of her toes’ last joints were missing and the lack of toe-nails also reduced the firmness. But she did it, she was standind on the very tip of her left foot’s toes, her burnt sole pushing against a shiny spike. She raised her leg still outside the field and stepped between the nails with this one too. Despite her exceptional skills, her ruined feet were unable to support her cautious steps and when she placed the right foot between the nails she lose her balance for a moment. It was enough for a super-sharp spike to cut her right heel and run into the depths of her heelpad, scratching hard against Jessica’s heelbone. The agent moaned loudly but kept her mouth shut as the already gained flag was still between her broken teeth. Slowly, carefully she raised her spike-punctured right foot until the needle slided out the fresh wound. Red blood dribbled along the needle.

Finally she managed to maintain her balance by opening her legs wide, placing her toes between the spikes while performing a very exciting toe-dancer position between the cruel needles. She bent forward and could get a grab of the flag, removed it easily from its socket. She felt glorious, as she had already got two flags out of the necessary five, even if the sole-destroying needle piercing had caused very heavy pain.

Still keeping her impossible position on the very tip of her tortured toes, she looked around. The Black girl was hanging from the frame and was heading towards the acid basin which was only two fields away from Jessica’s location. She needed a plan, a fucking rational plan about how to get the five flags as soon as possible! She already had two. One more was in the middle of the other needle field just across the stage, and also one more easily available in the other acid basin located near to her own starting point. That made four. If she could collect those four and leave them in her water vat, only one more would be necessary to win the game! She could either collect it from the central boiling oil vat or rob it from her opponent. But that choice would have to wait. If she wanted to get to the other needle field, she had to crawl over three boiling vats in the middle of the stage. Risky, but not impossible!

Jessica took a firm grip on the second flag, and like a spring, she kicked herself upwards. She performed a difficult movement as she swung from the tip of her toes towards the frame, but her trained legs could make it even with the flesh eating maggots in her flesh! She grabbed the frame above, the handheld flag’s rod hit the frame with a loud bang. She moaned and grunted but managed to stay hanging above the spikes.

Without losing any time she slowly started to climb along the frame above the closest boiling oil vat. From the corner of her eyes she saw that the Black had arrived above the acid basin at the near corner of the stage, only two fields away from herself! Jessica understood, that if her plan succeeded she would have gained a great advantage, but she would have to avoid meeting and fighting with the Black! This was too early! She arrived above the boiling oil without any problem, although having the second flag in her hand made the climbing more difficult than normal. The hot oil was radiating heat and as Jessica's feet were only about 30 centimetres above the surface, they started to roast slowly. She had to raise her legs up, keeping them away from the oil. The temperature above the oil soon became very hot, as if she were in a sauna. Jessica was sweating profusely and her legs, feet and ass started to redden slowly even hanging almost one and half metre above the oil. She grimaced but smiled internally. That roasting was nothing compared to the roasting she had suffered when her crotch had been utterly burnt to crisps…

When Ayala realised she could not grab the flag with her toes, she did not lose a second. After the difficulty she had had in the previous acid basin, she did not feel ready to try again. She could see her opponent's body hanging from the frame, two meters away. She seemed so petite, so weak. Ayala's body was much taller and stronger, and she felt that she could overpower the white slave. Thus, ignoring the flag below her, she curled her legs up. Her strong abs bulged, the rings pierced through her ribs trembled, her visage grimaced as she lifted her legs higher and higher. Finally she succeeded in hooking her lower legs around the frame pipe, relieving the muscles of her arms and hands. The rings that were pierced behind her ankles and knees tendons rattled against the metal, her stretched labia were swinging under her body, hanging from between her buttocks.

In this more comfortable position, Ayala began to crawl upside-down under the frame pipe, heading towards the place Jessica had just got her last flag. She progressed as fast as she could, trying to gain on Jessica, who was progressing more slowly as she was hanging by her arms alone. As Jessica went above the boiling oil pit, Ayala followed her. She grinned as she saw that her prey had some problems progressing because of the new flag she was holding in her hand. Also, her legs were turning red because of the intense heat above the boiling pit. It seemed that Jessica had not yet seen her move. Ayala got closer and closer.

When she felt that she was in reach, Ayala lowered her legs again and turned herself so as to face Jessica's back. Immediately, as her feet got close to the oil, Ayala felt the heat on her tender soles and lower legs. She could not prevent a moan from escaping her throat. This alerted Jessica who looked over her shoulder and saw the black threat that closing on her.

Jessica had been too much concentrated on progressing along the frame and on keeping her feet away from the super-hot surface of the oil. She realized the danger too late. When she heard Ayala’s moan, the Black was too close, giving her only a split second to react. And she proved to be far too slow. She tried to turn and face her attacker, but it was too late. Ayala lifted her legs again and seized her opponent's mid-section between her powerful thighs. She crossed her ankles and began to squeeze her legs together, pressing her ring-covered crotch against Jessica's loins, crushing her waist, flattening her spike-transfixed, nipple-ringed breasts against her back. The powerful legs of her competitor suddenly clamped around Jessica's body. Acid-burnt black feet’s heels kicked into her single remaining tit. She felt the muscular woman behind her tightening her grip, warm flesh and cold metal crushed against her back. The Black was so powerful, so strong! Jessica opened her mouth and let out a desperate shriek, the flag fell down from between her teeth.

’This can’t be! This can’t be true?! How could she surprise me so easily?!’ Jessica thoughts.

While she was tightening her grip, Ayala began to bounce her butt up and down, resting her own weight on the white slave's hips. Jessica shrieked in sudden terror, as her enemy placed extra pressure on Jessica’s already tired fingers. And the Black was a heavy woman, and her thights were like iron. Jessica twisted and wiggled against the firm grip, trying to shake the Black off her body, but without success. Her dangling legs started to kick in all directions but all her efforts were completely useless, the big, smelling body crushed her waist with mighty force.

\"LEAVEEEE MEEEEEE!!!!\" Jessica screamed as she twisted her body against Ayala in desperate attempts of kicking the other slave off. But even her flexible legs could not apply enough force. Bending her knees to the maximum, she managed to kick Ayala’s thighs and ass a couple of times, but those kicks were far too weak to cause any harm. Another bounce made by Ayala and her fingers holding the flag slid down from the frame bar. The flag fell into the boiling oil, sizzling-hot drops of oil splashed up and fell on Jessica’s calf. She felt how hot the oil actually was. She was hanging by only one seriously injured hand, supporting her weight while a double sized nigger was tugging on her!

Soon, Jessica's hand could not resist any longer. Her fingers began to lose their grip and to glide from the pipe. With a last powerful bouncing, Ayala opened her legs, letting her screaming victim fall into the boiling oil pit.

Jessica was screaming at the top of her powerful lungs as she fell. Her mind was completely melted in utter terror. Her toes and feet touched and sank first into the boiling oil, the pain she felt was simply beyond anything she had had to endure before. She had been tortured in many ways, different cruel minds had invented different methods of inflicting pain to her body, but as her feet and calf dipped into the oil every previous torment seemed reduced to naughty tickling. Pain shot through her legs right up to her brain, the worst kind of pain she could imagine. Her soles reached the bottom of the oil vat but her terrified and pain-stricken mind was unable to keep her balance. The poor agent’s legs fell under her and Jessica slanted into the hot liquid. The boiling oil sizzled and angrily frittered its hot drops away, the awful scent of roasting human flesh filled the air within a moment. The audience applauded loudly, that was the kind of action they were waiting for! Jessica screamed and shrieked loudly. The pain was completely destroying her reality and transformed her into a thrashing, wailing piece of meat being roasted in a giant pan.

\"Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!! Yeeeessssssssssss!!!\" Laura screamed out in pleasure, crossing her ankles behind Trixie’s neck just like Ayala had done to Jessica but a few moments ago. Trixie’s tongue was deep inside Laura’s pussy, wiggling wildly bringing an impossibly fantastic orgasm to the screaming beauty. Laura kept her eyes open, staring at Jessica’s wildy roasting body as her own was shivering in sadistic pleasure.

Jessica was out of her mind. The hot oil surrounded her, almost her whole body had sunk into it and the wildly flying drops landed on places which would normally have avoided the burning. Drops had burnt her face in several spots but that was nothing compared to the pain that was radiating from her legs, butt and whole back. With open eyes and continously screaming mouth, she placed her hands under her and pushed up hard. It was nearly a miracle but somehow she managed to push hard enough to jump back on her feet. Even though her mind had lost control, her well-trained body was still doing its job. Ayala pulled up her black feet just as Jessica stood up, but the other slave was the smallest problem Jessica had to deal with in that very moment.

She turned towards the spike field when a loud burst of tall flames shot into the air just next to her. Sizzling oil was dripping from her body, from her hands and arms. A thin layer of burning oil covered her legs, and her feet were still roasting inside boiling liquid. Without any delay she sprang from her burning feet and jumped to the field from where she had entered the spikes only a minute ago. Again drops of oil splattered the air around her, several of them fell onto Ayala’s highly raised legs but Jessica finally safely landed on the harmless square. She stood there for a moment, her feet were still roasting, emitting disgusting popping sounds as blisters formed and popped immediately. But all those sounds were covered by her long high-pitched, endless whining.

Laura pushed her loin against Trixie’s face and bucking her pussy experienced another orgasm. Her juices were covering Trixie’s whole head and formed a small pool under her.

\"Yesssss… fuckiiing yessssss… I loooooseee a looot of moneeeeey buuut it's woooorth iiiitttttt… yessssssssss!!!\" the blonde sadist moaned and moaned.

Ayala was grasping the frame with her arms and her legs, trying to stay as high as possible to avoid some of the heat mounting from the bubbling oil under her. Above her shoulder, she was following Jessica's actions. She grinned when she saw that her opponent had lost her two flags, which were now laying on the bottom of the oil vat.

Once Jessica was away and the oil surface had calmed down, she released her hold on the bar while hooking it strongly behind her knees. She let her body stretch upside down. All the rings embedded in her skin swung to their new position, and her breasts were pulled in the other direction now, with the long spike now resting against her throat. The heat was intense and she was now suffering it with her head and torso. Abundant rivulets of sweat were dribbling along her dark skin. Her eyes had tightened into narrow slits in order to protect them from the hardly bearable heat.

The Black slave took the flag she was holding between her teeth and held it tight with both hands, next to its pointed end.The muscles in her arms bulged and she grimaced as she applied all her strength to bend the aluminium rod. Slowly, the metal was curved until it reached the shape of a hook. Ayala grinned. Her plan was working perfectly so far.

She seized the rod by its flag end and reached with the hook towards the bottom of the vat. She had to resist the urge from pulling her hand away as it was now so close to the oily surface that it felt as if it was in the middle of a fire. Ayala gritted her teeth and continued her plan. With her new tool, she tried to hook one of the flags that Jessica had dropped. She was sweating profusely and her eyes were burning. She could feel her skin getting covered with the evaporated oil. After a couple of attempts she succeeded to hook a flag. Carefully, she pulled it out of its bath, dripping with sizzling oil.

The heat was by now unbearable. It was stinging on the skin of her hand and forearm as an army of bees. Her face was puffy and felt as if it was about to burst. Ayala could not stand it any longer. She had to cool down a little before continuing her fishing. Contracting her abs, she slowly pulled herself up, away from the inferno. She hooked her left arm around the overhead bar while she waited for the flags she was holding in her right hand to drip their oil and to cool down.

Jessica was suffering beyond imagination. Even with the painkiller and stimulant drugs injected into her body, she felt as if she were in pure hell. The oil on her body was cooling down so slowly, she could feel as it was sizzling angrily, bubbling and melting her skin continuously. Her whole world had become a mess of fiery pain. Without the stimulants she would have fainted in the oil, but the cruel game required lively racers, not dead dolls. All she could think of was to reach her water vat and let the water cool down her blistered and cooked skin at least a bit! With her horribly aching feet she headed towards the water tub, stepped over the corner of the acid basin and entered the cool water. As her cooked and dark red feet sunk into the water she almost smiled, the feeling was so good. Actually what she felt was not pleasure, but the slight easing of the pain she was suffering, but even that small difference seemed like arriving to some kind of heaven. She collapsed into the water and turned her back to the side of the stage, sitting in the middle of the pool of cold water. As the still hot layer of oil touched the water it sizzled again, puffs of steam and flying oil drops covered the agent’s body, but that was nothing according to being dipped in the hot oil.

Ayala was hanging by her crossed knees upside down from the frame and Jessica had no other choice but to watch the Black do the fishing of Jessica’s hardly gained and easily lost flags. She felt so much sorry for herself! How could that hang-dog nigger have sneaked so easily behind her? Ashagen’s cruel torture competitions had their own special psychology. The contestants who were forced to torture each other or suffer pain based on their competitors’ actions started to hate each other very soon, very easily. In those extreme games, basic life instincts always took over the control and that made the races so cruel, so wild, so fierce. And Jessica felt the same way. She was watching at Ayala’s black-skinned body hanging from the frame and collecting the reward of being selfish and cruel, and the hatred built up rapidly in her heart!

Jessica looked at her own legs which were dark red. Ugly burst and still intact blisters covered her thighs, and she knew that her back and ass were in an even worse condition. Her arms were heavily damaged too, and her feet did not look like human peds anymore. Both of them were half-way between red and black, the tip of her toes were burnt to crisps and the skin was shredded from the surface. Small pieces of charred flesh and skin were floating around her feet in the water. Jessica started to grin, her pain-filled eyes changed their tone and hatred started to burn inside them. Several of the maggots inside the open wounds on her thighs had been roasted and were barely wiggling anymore, but before Jessica’s eyes only one, big, black maggot remained as a target.

She watched as Ayala finally removed one flag from the depths of the oil and raised her back up to the frame. Jessica’s severely burnt fingers closed into a fist as she felt energy and blood lust building up in her body.

\"I KILLL YOUUUUU!!!\" she screamed in a high-pitched, almost unbearably unnatural voice. \"NIGGGEEERRRR CUUUUNNNTTT!!! I KILLLL YOUUUUUU!!!\" she yelled loudly, letting her banshee voice fly over the stage, bringing loud applauses from the audience.

\"That’s it babyyyyy…\" Laura murmured in satisfaction as she pushed Trixie's head away from her pussy, letting her excitement cool down a bit. \"Goooo and kill her, win the game for me!\"

Meanwhile, Ayala had somewhat recovered. The flag was now cool enough that she could touch it. She seized it between her teeth, still holding the hooked one in her right hand. She now felt ready to fish the second flag. Again, she let herself to hang from her knees, lowering her face and torso above the bubbling oil. She extended her hook and managed to grasp her target in spite of the horrible heat that was rising and enveloping her hanging body. She pulled it out of the oil and then lifted once more her whole body up to the frame.

She was trembling by now. She felt that her right hand and lower arm were burnt even though they had not touched the oil. The oily steam was enough. Her whole body was coated in it and she felt filthy and oily. Grasping the frame with legs and arms, she waited for the flag to cool down a little, and then grabbed it. She had now three flags!

Her problem was now to bring these encumbering objects back to a safer place. She decided to use the line of rings that had been pierced along her ribs to store her collection of flags. There was a dozen of those rings on each side of her chest, as well as in her back. She threaded the first flag through the 12 rings along her left side. It went all the way down until the metallic flag itself was stopped at the entrance of the top ring. Thanks to the curvature of her rib cage, the flag could not slide too easily. She then threaded the second flag along the first, blocking them further. She could not fit the last one because of its hooked end, so she held it with her teeth.

She then began to progress again along the frame bar, towards the centre of the stage. She intended to try and fish the central, and most important, flag with her hook. She found it more difficult to progress though. She was getting tired from hanging like that since several minutes, enveloped in bearable but intense heat. She was breathing oily fumes that were reducing her oxygenation capacity. Moreover, her whole body was now coated in oil and was getting slippery. Finally, the flags stored along her ribcage were reducing her agility. Still, ignoring the furious insults from her opponent, she crawled under the bar.

As she reached the next cell, her cramped, slippery right hand slid from the bar. She immediately tried to regain her hold but in her haste, she forgot about the heavy spike transfixing her breast. She hit it violently, tugging on her aching breasts and causing her to gasp in pain. Her body jerked and she felt her left hand gliding from the bar as well. Panic stroke her mind. Her left hand was jerked from the bar and her body swung in a wide circle, only holding by her ankles, which were crossed above the bar. Her weight yanked hard on her legs and those too slid from the bar. She screamed in terror, letting the hooked flag fall from her mouth.

As she fell, she twisted her body like a panther, in a desperate attempt to not fall head first in the infernal soup. Her body continued its spinning motion and completed the circle. Ayala landed in the boiling oil on her feet, splashing burning droplets all around. Her scream grew louder and higher as the inhuman pain registered in her lower legs and feet. She began to lose her balance but with ample and frantic moves of her arms, she succeeded in remaining upright.

Jessica stood up out of the water. Despite the horrible damages done by the hot oil, she felt her anger burning in her young heart and the stimulants were circulating in her veins. Despite the extreme pain, a strong audacity was waking up inside her. She wanted to punish the Black bitch, she wanted to see her suffer! Ayala had managed to collect three flags, just fished it out from the boiling oil, but Jessica wanted to make sure she could not celebrate her partial victory for too long.

The tall and fierce tongues of flames had just burst from the flame throwers on the field next to her, so she felt she had a good chance not to be roasted in the upcoming seconds. She took a deep breath and stepped forward, right into the field with the sinister, small, charred-edge holes on its surface. She knew exactly that time was short so without any hesitation she bent her knees and sprang upwards, grabbing the frame above her. One of her toes touched the edge of a flame-thrower's hole and even if it was searing hot, her already burnt and dead nerve endings did not even alert her.

Right at the same moment, she saw the Black slave lose her balance over the oil bath, so close to her, and fall slowly. Jessica felt extreme joy and satisfaction! Ayala did not even realize how close the white girl was as climbing and keeping the flags had completely preoccupied her and from the moment she lost her grip, she had much bigger problems to handle. Jessica watched as the heavy, dark body fell down, but with an unbelievable twist, Ayala managed to turn her body and to land onto her wide soles. The Black bitch howled like a jackal and Jessica knew exactly what she was feeling. But she felt no pity! She wanted to show the Nigger how it felt not only to step into the hot oil but also to bathe in it.

She grabbed the frame with total determination and started to climb, placing one hand above the other with wide swings. Just as she started to feel the searing heat radiating from the oil under her, a loud burst of flames appeared just behind her and shot up to the frame's bar. The flames barely licked her back and the back of her arms and legs, but after laying in the hot oil, the flames could not cause any additional damage.

Meanwhile, Ayala had not been idle. In spite of the pain her feet and lower legs were suffering from in the boiling oil, her determination allied to the stimulating drugs allowed her to remain. She did not want to have to come back to this horrible place. This meant she had to recover the hooked flag she had dropped during her fall, as well as taking the one planted in the oil vat. This was the centre flag, the crucial one. If she managed to grab it and leave this painful place, she would have an immense advantage on her opponent.

She doubled over and, taking a deep breath, plunged her right hand into the oil and grabbed the flag that was laying on the bottom. The pain was so intense that she had to gather all her strength of mind to resist the panicked urge to pull her arm out of the oily furnace. Her aching, reddening fingers closed themselves around the staff and pulled it out victoriously.

With her hand dripping the sizzling liquid, she then grabbed the central flag and easily unplugged it from its socket. Despite the inhuman agony that was slowly destroying her feet, she felt a powerful feeling of victory. This was her fourth flag. This was the crucial flag. Only one more and she would have won. She only had to leave this oil vat now and plunge her cooking body into the icy water tub. In her joy and pain, she had forgotten she had a mortal enemy. She was sure that her opponent had been put out of fight. She was totally unaware of the fatal threat that was hovering just above her head.

Jessica arrived above Ayala's oil pot, she raised her legs high and showed her teeth. The Black woman was about to move away from the hellish pool, but Jessica had completely different plans. She prepared her body to kick the Black, to hurt her, to force her into the oil and make her scream not only for her feet but for her disgusting body too!

The oil was sizzling around the Black bitch’s sturdy ankles as Ayala was continously whining as she finally completed to remove the next flag from its socket. To her very bad luck she was showing her back to Jessica who arrived above the that field with really heavy swings. The hanging girl had already experienced the awesome strength of her Black opponent, but the anger that was burning inside her heart made her reckless and vengeful beyond any human limit. The wish for fast death also supplied her courage as she approached Ayala. The Black’s back was wide, her shoulders were sturdy and Amazon-like, shiny muscles were glistening under her acid burnt skin.

Jessica grinned, showing the remains of her teeth and suddenly let out a truly thrilling, high pitched war cry. Her banshee scream was so loud and so powerful that even the spectators were terrified for a moment, despite the fact that their main entertainment was to listen to poor women's pain cries. A couple of cocktail glasses fell down and Ayala was also mesmerized for a very long, nearly fatal moment. Jessica took the advantage. Her shapely but heavily damaged legs kicked towards the shoulders of Ayala, landing a powerful strike on the Black’s body. Ayala trembled and Jessica made the best of that advantage. She crossed her burnt legs around Ayala’s neck, gripping it between her powerful thighs. Her ankles kicked into Ayala’s grotesquely hanging, ringed and skewered breasts. Ayala let out a terrible scream of pain and surprise as her aching breasts were suddenly crushed under her attacker's heels. She tried to pull them off but Jessica was faster. As soon as her thighs closed around the strong neck, Jessica yanked Ayala’s head towards her crotch, cradling the Black’s nape right against the roasted and mutilated place where her cunt used to be. She pressed her thighs strongly together, suffocating Ayala. Ayala felt as if her head was about to be torn out of her shoulders, her neck bent at a painful angle, while her air supply was suddenly cut. She shook her body and shove her fingers into Jessica's thighs, trying to force them open. Meanwhile, she tried to bite them. However, Jessica's hold was so strong that it kept her mouth well above her thighs and out of harm's way. Her muscles were as strong as steel and the oily and blistered fingers of the Black slipped on her attacker's skin. The powerful squirms of Ayala were almost too much for Jessica’s weakened fingers and she barely lost her grip on the frame above, but with mighty willpower she managed to hold on, yanking her whole body from side to side, almost crushing the Black slave’s windpipe, cutting her air supply as she blocked the bloodstream in the arteries of Ayala’s neck. The struggling girl was feeling her vision narrowing as her brains lacked blood. Her mouth was gaping wide a her ringed tongue protruding. Her grimacing face was turned up in a horrible grin as she starred helplessly at the girl above her.

Laura was watching the show with gleaming eyes. She let Trixie turn her head towards the stage and enjoy the game too. Trixie’s left hand was pushed up into Laura’s pussy and she was fisting her mistress with great might. From their point of view, the union of the slaves looked as if Jessica was a giant snake slued around Ayala’s neck. Two awfully burnt, sweating, wet and glistening bodies were squirming wildly connecting the frame and the hot oil, none of the slaves was emitting any noise but muffled gurgles as they were fighting for their very life... or death, only a matter of point of view. Trixie’s skilled hands spinned around in Laura’s womb and cunt and the blonde woman screamed out in pleasure.

\"Yeeeessssssss! Killlll heeerrrrrrrrr! Yeeeeessssssss!\" she screamed and screamed loudly. But Jessica did not hear anything. Her one and only focus was to force the hated nigger into the oil, and finally her risky action turned to ultimate success. Ayala’s soles slid from under her, and the Black pain-toy lost her precious balance. As soon as Ayala’s position was maintained only by Jessica’s legs, the latter girl rapidly opened her grip and swung her body back, leaving Ayala fall down.

The huge black body crashed into the oil, projecting sizzling droplets all around. Her lungs let out an inhumanly powerful scream that made the arena's wall trembling. She felt the boiling oil infiltrating and burning every pore of her battered skin. She desperately tried to keep as much of her body above the surface but the floor was slippery and her feet and hands slipped on it. Immediately, the rage she had burned with during the fight transformed into white pain and panic. She forgot everything. Her mind turned entirely to obeying the urge to leave that boiling bath. With a mask of panic deforming her face, she crawled like a pursued prey out of the bubbling vat, directly over the flame-thrower plate. She felt the glowing red holes burn the skin of her shins as she scrambled as fast as she could across the dangerous field, heading towards the icy water tub she had begun in. Crawling through the field was slow and every second she passed there increased the chance to see the flames roast her flesh like a chicken. Luck was with her though and she managed to cross the square unscathed. She plunged into the seething cold water, hearing the oil sizzling one last time.

Jessica raised her legs as high as she could. She had already experienced the killing heat of the boiling oil and did not want to catch any of the flying droplets. She watched with a victorious satisfaction how the Black fell into the infernal soup. Her powerful shrieks made Jessica's once so beautiful face cruelly smiling. She heard the agony-born screams, the disgusting sizzling sounds as the oil penetrated deep into Ayala’s body, as the the Black’s marked skin was melting and wobbling under the extreme heat. From her point of view, Ayala seemed like a black worm threw into a pan. Jessica had eaten such kind of dishes several times during missions in Thailand or Vietnam. But unlike those worms, this big and utterly hated piece of shit did not curl and squirm until the hot oil had totally roasted it and evaporated every drop of water from its body. This big, nasty worm fought against the pain, fought against the killing heat and even kept the flags. But she was crawling like all worms and maggots do.

Jessica wasted some time because of her disappointment that her enemy had not lost consciousness or left the flags in the pot. Jessica wanted to fight, to beat and kick and destroy the big, dark worm but as it was crawling on all fours, Jessica did not dare to follow her into the hot inferno. As Ayala crawled to the flame thrower field, Jessica realized the situation. The Black had four flags, and needed only one more to win the race. There was a flag close to them to the right in the middle of the spikes, but another was in the middle of another acid tub, not too far from Ayala’s water basin. The worm was clearly headed toward the water for some relief, but after it would go catch one of these flags. Jessica had no chance to collect or defend both of them together. She had only one chance left: to follow the nigger, force her towards the acid-surrounded flag and not let her get back to her water, but fight and win.

She strengthened her mind and followed Ayala, scrambling along the frame just a couple of metres behind the moaning and smoking body of the crawling worm. The air was hot, heavy, filled with the awful stench or seriously burnt human flesh. Although the air conditioners were sucking the stench out of the spectators' area, the atmosphere above the stage remained natural. Jessica considered the idea of jumping from the frame and attacking Ayala directly in the water, but spending even just any extra second over the flame throwers sounded like a very bad idea. Thus, unlike Ayala who threw herself directly into the water, Jessica followed the frame and progressed until she was safe, over the acid basin. Formerly, it had harboured a flag but it had long been harvested by Ayala.

The young agent felt some victorious feeling again, she had just crossed a flame thrower field again without any effect! Jessica spun around above the acid and faced the Black who was sitting in the water craddling her precious flags. They were only a couple of meters away and Jessica knew how much pain the worm was in. She had to push her opponent before Ayala could regain her strength. She would never get a better chance to overpower her!

\"You disgusting nigger worm! I'm coming for you!\" Jessica screamed in anger. It was the first time during their nasty and cruel fight that one of them addressed words to the other with the chance of getting any answer.

Ayala was in the cold water, feeling it penetrate every crook and nook of her burning body, providing a highly needed relief and refreshment. Only after a while did she realise how close from the victory she was. She had four flags in her possession. Two were stuck in the rings lining her ribcage and she was holding two more in her left hand, one of which was the central flag and the other was the one she had made a hook from. As much as water was soothing her pain, those flags were relieving her anguished mind. They meant that she would be allowed a quick death. They meant that her current suffering would soon end for real. She only had to collect one more flag.

Jessica's voice yanked her out of her pain-soaked reveries. She turned her head and saw her opponent hanging from the frame, one meter from her, over the acid basin that had given her so much pain. The bitch had followed her. It was a chance that Ayala had had some time to recover some strength after her ordeal in the oil pit. She now felt ready to face her again.

\"Come, come to me, you filthy rat. I'm awaiting you!\" she answered.

The Black worm’s arrogant reply heated up Jessica’s anger and she kicked her legs forward, yanking hard on her body, and made the last couple of steps with her hands. For her bad luck, she has just reached the side of the acid basin when her fingers slid on the shiny rod. She hanged for a second from only one hand. She was about to grip the bar again but Ayala did not let her the time to do it. She reached upwards and seized both Jessica's ankles. With a grunt, she yanked them down with all her strength and weight. The ankles seemed so frail inside her strong black hands.

\"Come to me, I said. Don't stay up there!\" Ayala said, a cruel grin on her face.

Jessica was unable to resist the Black’s yank, and she suddenly fell down from the frame. Her soles hit the separation between the water and acid basins and she tried to clutch the thin wall with her nail-less toes, but the surprise and the awfully bad condition of her feet made her slide directly into the acid. New layers of her burnt skin were rasped from her sole and the same yellowish liquid that had already melted and burnt Ayala now bit into Jessica's flesh. The girl screamed to the top of her lungs and kicked her soles against the wall of the basin, flailing with her arms to keep her balance. Thanks to her exceptional acrobatic skills, she managed to keep standing, but just as she was about to regain her balance, the acid started to smoke around her ankles. Acrimonious molecules found their way between the blisters and flayed pieces of skin of her feet, attacking directly the Agent’s raw flesh, causing Jessica to scream wildly as the feeling of thousands of pin stingers radiated from her peds.

The pain and the shock forced her to make a fast decision. With a determined stare, she bent her knees and sprung forward, raising her legs high. Followed by a spray of acid, she landed right next to Ayala, splashing into the middle of the cool water. The two condemned women, a black and white slave of the pain and death craddling city of Ashagen, stared into each other's eyes at a very close distance for the first, and probably the last, time.

Meanwhile, Ayala had stood up and she was ready to welcome the destroyed secret agent. She had dropped the two flags she had been holding in her hand to get more freedom. She knew she was stronger and taller but she also knew that her opponent was resourceful and dangerous. She would never have survived so long if she had not been smart and resistant. Ayala was decided to crush her opponent into submission. As soon as Jessica landed beside her, the Black grappled her and began to wrestle. Black skin was pressed against white skin. Their sweat mixed between them. Ayala's multiple rings were grinding against Jessica's open and ancient wounds. Both females were holding each other, their muscles bulging, grunting and panting, as they tried to get the over hand. To Ayala's surprise, Jessica proved stronger than she expected. In spite of her fierce effort to crush her with her powerful muscles, the misleadingly petite girl was resisting bravely, a strange grin over her face.

Jessica knew at the moment of her fall into the acid that she had lost her advantage against the worm. She had given Ayala a chance to recover from the pain caused by her disgusting crawl in the sizzling oil, to restore her strength and even to prepare for Jessica’s attack. But Jessica remained extremely determined. The grand finale of the race was clearly too close. Ayala had got four flags already and she was in her own starting point. One more flag and the Black would win, which would mean that Jessica had lost her opportunity to die a fast death and escape from her horror-struck life, if living in a never-ending agony could be considered as life at all. All these reasons helped Jessica to strengthen her body and fight viciously against Ayala, as soon as the worm grabbed her with her black arms, Jessica hardened her body against Ayala and fought like a lion. The water waved heavily around their legs as the powerful, drug-driven bodies twirled around each other.

Jessica’s anger boiled even higher, as she faced from such a close distance her enemy, and could get a very good look at Ayala’s face. The Black must have been an attractive woman once, the big amazonian type of nigger bitches, but she was now reduced to almost the same level as Jessica. The fallen secret agent opened her mouth and screamed out loudly, letting out the thrilling and ear-piercing war-cry that she had learnt during her training in South America, blowing the super-shrilling scream directly into Ayala’s face. The bitchy trick proved very effective. The Black completely lose her focus for a brief second, and Jessica did use the opportunity. She spun on her feet to face the acid basin, jumped into the air raising both of her legs high, and with a short-distance but heavy kick she landed her knees into Ayala’s abdomen, forcing the air out of the Black’s lungs and making her lose her balance. The big, dark body’s ankles bucked against the wall separating the water and acid basins, and the dark-skinned slave fell back, landing in the acid. As she fell, Ayala screamed to the top of her lungs as she knew she was going to feel once again the bite of the acid on her already damaged skin. She could not believe that it was happening again. Her eyes were wide open, panicked. Then it happened. She landed in the acid and felt it burn deeper into her raw flesh. She used her hands to absorb her fall and those were burnt as well. Droplets of acid exploded in the air before raining back on her exposed belly and pierced chest.

Jessica’s face contorted in victorious pleasure. But she knew that, even bathing in the acid, the Black was far too strong to give up. Ignoring the two flags lying on the bottom of the water, she jumped over the separating wall again and landed on top of Ayala. Unluckily, as her soles touched Ayala’s stomach, the wet skin and the metal rings embedded in the flesh proved too slippery, and she losed her balance immediately, falling on her butt right next to Black.

Ayala doubled over as Jessica landed on her belly. She bucked and jerked, helping her attacker to fall in the acid. Both girls were screaming to the very top of their lungs as the acid attacked their suffering bodies and started to melt the tissues, raising smoke wherever their flesh was in contact with the acid’s surface.

When Ayala had fallen into the acid, the spectators had applauded slightly, but at the moment when Jessica arrived and also dipped into the vitriolic liquid, joyful, loud cheers burst around the arena. Laura jumped to her feet, kicking hard into Trixie’s ribs accidentally, and she started to jump and clap her hands together like a little girl, shrilling loudly like a mentally disabled child.

\"Yesssss! Yesssss! Screaaaaam! Screaaaaaam cuuuunts!\" she yelled along with the other Ashagen citizens, who were enjoying the cruel scene just as much as Laura herself.

As the slaves were doing their task, screaming, thrashing, flailing wildly as the acid basin was too small for two bodies, they were unable to unknot their limbs from each other for very long seconds. Jessica kicked Ayala hard in the jaw in an attempt to find a steady point while Ayala’s sturdy feet also hit Jessica’s burnt groin as she tried to pull her legs under her.

Finally Jessica grabbed the edge of the basin and, yanking hard on her body, managed to pull her waist off Ayala’s belly and to slide to the wall of the basin, kicking the acid under her, somehow forcing herself into a standing position. Drops of acid were flying everywhere, dripping onto both slaves body and even faces, evaporating within puffs of smoke as the ladies continued to scream.

Ayala's mind was blank with agony and terror. Everything was forgotten to her panic-stricken mind. She was reduced to a screaming, suffering beast that only sought after relief and safety. Ignoring her opponent who was proudly towering above her, she splashed and scrambled toward the relative safety of the water basin. Clumsily, she twisted her body to get on all fours. She then braced her hands on the separation between the basins and tried to pull herself out of the horrible bath. But as she began to lift herself, Jessica heinously stomped on the spike protruding from the side of her right breast. Ayala's chest was pulled down by her elongated breast and pressed against the bottom of the acid vat. The scream that escaped her incredibly wide open mouth made the walls of the arena to tremble. She kicked and splashed helplessy for a few seconds as acid was penetrating into places it had yet never been to. Her lower face was dipping in the acid, which meant that her pierced tongue and mouth got severely burnt.

She twisted and contorted her body like a hooked fish, feeling weaker and weaker as the acid was devouring her strength. Her feet were desperately pushing against the opposite side of the tub while her fingers were clutching its edge. Finally, in a last burst of energy, she managed to pull the spike from under Jessica's foot and to roll over the side into the cool water basin. As the water hissed and washed her burning skin, she felt an intense relief flushing through her veins and nerves. She was squatting in a ball of suffering flesh, relishing the effect of the water on her wounds. She was feeling incredibly weak and clumsy, as if the acid had burnt her will to the last thread. She knew she should stand up and prepare to resist her on-coming opponent but she could not find the strength to do it.

Despite her horrendous agony, Jessica felt the relieving victory as she saw the hatred Black worm squealing under her feet. Between her own, pain screams, she emitted crazy, high-pitched laughter of complete craziness as she saw Ayala’s chin and lower face dipped into the acid, and the disgusting slave was shrieking at the top of her lungs. The acid flew into her oral cavity, bathing the sensitive membrane and tongue with its agressive molecules. To Jessica’s and the spectators’ real amusement smoke puffed from the Black slave’s mouth. As her whole body was forced deep in the acid, more and more veins bursted in Ayala’s white eyeballs, giving them a red shade, making the nigger look like a demon. Her energetic twisting, inhuman screams of agony and pain-contorted, smoking face, all created the illusion of a captured female demon suffering in holy water.

Very close photos of Ayala’s screaming face were taken by the arena’s cameramen from their safe positions above the frame. The Black bitch’s suffering photos might win an award in Ashagen’s next ’Faces of pain competition’. Jessica felt the urge to jump, to run, to leave the diabolic bath behind, which was so intensely eating the flesh of her feet and calves. But the transformed meat of Ayala’s breast under her soles meant close victory. To her great disappointment, the dark worm proved too strong. With a sudden yank she freed herself and rolled her body into the cool water in the same swing, splashing loudly into the water.

As soon as her prey escaped, the pain in her feet became reality for Jessica. Her crazy laughter died and high-pitched whining took over her sounds. She wanted to run, to leave the acid and free herself from the pain, but Jessica also knew deep in her pain- and drug-driven mind, that never ever she had had a better chance to finish the race. She had to defeat Ayala, had to win the chance to get a fast death! Years of heavy training made Jessica’s will as solid as steel. She gathered all her mental strength to fight the urge of escaping. Even if her whole body was burning like hell as the remnants of the acid were melting her skin and her heavily burnt feet were no more recognizable as human limbs, she managed to gather all her willpower and with a fierce scream she jumped over the wall separating the acid from Ayala’s water basin. She landed immediately in the water, curling her nailless fingers like claws, she bent her knees to make the water cover as much as her body as it was possible and attacked the pitifully moaning worm. But to Jessica’s extreme surprise, the apparently defenceless Black slave was far from being as knocked out as Jessica suspected. As soon as her fingers reached Ayala’s hair, the Black fought back, reaching up with her hands and grabbed both sides of Jessica’s face. The white and black, heavily wounded and seriously burnt slaves pressed their bodies against each other one more time.

Ayala was panicked. She felt her body gnawed by the acid both from the inside and the outside. She could not think about anything else but escape from her attacker's clutch and get some relief from her painful wounds. Both girls fought for sometime as they struggled to get the upper hand, splashing water in all directions. Their muscular legs were intertwined, their fingers were groping at each other wet body. They alternately tried to drown their opponent by pushing her head under the water. But none of them managed to keep hold long enough to get any success.

At last, as Ayala had just rolled over Jessica for the third time, she preferred to leave the fight while it was possible. Kicking the floor with both feet, she jumped out of the water basin and landed on the empty square field that was diagonally adjacent to it. There, exhausted, scared to death, panting and dripping water, she tried to get some rest and calm her panicked mind.

Even if Jessica had lost the last fight and the Black slave was able to escape from her, the anger, the ultimate desire to put that horrible fight to an end made her follow Ayala. She stayed in the water for some seconds, gathering more strength and then, with wide-open and hatred-sparkling eyes, she moved after Ayala, gritting the remnants of her teeth, preparing for something very nasty and very last action. She stepped out from the water and only one metre behind Ayala arrived to the field between the acid and the spikes.

Just at that moment the voice of the ringmaster filled the air, a humming, sinister voice.

\"Valuable guests! In this kind of competition it often happens that the slaves are getting to the dead point of heavy frustration. As our goal is to entertain you, we can't let our lovely girls rest too much, so for this very reason we are going to apply a funny surprise we call 'bottom sparks'!\"

Within a second, blue tiny flashes ran along the metal grid of the stage's fields and especially around the water and acid basins a small bursts of bluish sparks started to crack. The whole stage was now electrified! Jessica had just reached Ayala when the blue sparks started to rattle around their burnt feet, and suddenly both slave felt the shock!

\"High voltage, low amperage, doesn't kill but force to dance!\" the ringmaster's voice continued, but the poor slaves on the stage did not hear it anymore, only their own and their opponent's high-pitched screams.

Ayala was squatting on the empty field when she suddenly felt her feet and legs clenches from the jolts of electricity. She screamed at this new torture and looked around for a way to escape it. But everywhere, blue sparks could be seen cracking in the hot air. She also noticed that Jessica was still pursuing her, coming in her direction. The Black girl was feeling panic. She could not hope to get any rest. She would have to fight or die in a long, slow agony, her uncontrollable body jerking on the sparkling floor.

At this moment, she noticed that the frame above the arena seemed devoid of electricity. She jumped and grabbed the bar above her, half-expecting to receive a cruel jolt of pain through her chest. But there was none. The frame was safe! Just at this moment, she saw Jessica stepping into her square field, dancing on the electrified floor. Ayala retracted her powerful legs and aimed a strong kick at her enemy. To her dismay, Jessica easily dodged the attack and then reacted with the swiftness of a lightning.

The nigger's kick once used to be fast and deadly, but Ayala was in such a bad condition after all the horrors she had endured, that even her well-practised attack was performed at the pace of an old snail. Jessica, whose bloody eyes had not turned away from the Black's ass for a moment, felt the electric sparks bite into her ruined feet, but even with that painful distraction, she easily managed to dodge the kick while at the same time grabbing Ayala's horribly burnt thighs. Jessica's fingers closed around the meaty limb, the tip of her fingers sank into the other slave's flesh, popping out huge blisters, rasping down chunks of charred skin.

\"Diiieeeeeee... you shit!\" she screamed in an inhuman, hatred-filled voice. Her eyes were gleaming with evil sparks, the jolts of electricity were sparkling along her wet legs and body, even more blue and yellow sparks were sizzling where she grabbed Ayala's leg. With a powerful yank she swung Ayala towards the side of the stage, right above the hideously lightning spikes which were still craddling one of the last free flags. Ayala was unable to hold her position and the black fingers slid from the bar they were clutching. The heavy body fell right on the top of the spikes bursting crackling sparks from their tips.

Ayala tried to resist the fierce yank on her legs, but the combination of pain and exhaustion forced her fingers to let go off the bar. In a wide arc, she was propelled down and she crashed face down on the 5-cm-long spikes. They pierced through her flesh in countless points, going through her muscles, scratching her bones. In a last, desperate attempt to protect herself, she thrown her hands forward to stop her fall. This action had saved her life as she had managed to keep her torso off the floor and several spikes to go through her thorax into her lungs and heart. Her breasts had been severely skewered though, with the two spikes' points grazing against her ribs. Her right hand had landed on top of a spike too and her palm was like nailed to the floor. Another spike had pierced through the muscle of her left forearm.

While she had managed to protect her chest, her legs were a horrible mess. Several spikes had gone through her thighs and calves, and even through the sole of her left foot. A spike had entered the middle of her abdomen. Her entire lower body was pinned to floor and any movement caused transfixing agony. The worst was that the spikes kept shocking the defeated Black, causing her crucified limbs to jerk and clench uncontrollably.

Her body arched backwards, braced on her arms, Ayala was howling in utter agony. She was totally unable to move. She knew she had lost now. Jessica only had to collect the flags to win. Ayala would be unable to do anything against that. In the midst of a haze of agony, she was regretting she had protected herself with her arm. If only she had fallen completely on the spikes, she might have killed herself, depriving the monsters of Ashagen the pleasure to torture her to death.

Jessica's face contorted again into a wild smile-grind combination as she jumped forward and grabbed the frame. She realised that the frame was free from torturing jolts. She looked down at Ayala and savoured the Black's pitiful moans and obvious agony. The sight was amazing. The sturdy black bitch was laying on the floor, spikes were puncturing different parts of her body, locking her in place, while the continuous electric shocks were shaking her wildly. Her dense blood had painted the spikes a deep red, colourized by the crackling sparks as they were surrounding Ayala’s body. Shock after shock shook the woman. Pitiful moans and high pitched whining filled the stage. Ayala was wriggling on the tip of the spikes like a maggot on the hook of a fishing-rod. The shocks made her muscles cricking at a fast pace, they made those muscles waving under her burnt skin, jerks made the spikes opening the wounds wider and wider.

Laura was standing right next to the glasswall straddle-legged, savouring the sight of the black slave’s last struggles. She was twanging her clit with her index finger while Trixie was kneeling behind her and licked her puckered asshole. Laura was extremely happy. Her slave had won the game and earned another big sum of money, while she could enjoy the act of merciless brutality and being fed with bitch' agony. The funny jerks performed by Ayala brought so much pleasure to the wicked blonde that she could not resist any more and with extremely high-pitched moans experienced a hurricane-like orgasm. Ayala’s wiggling body was burnt into her retina. With trembling legs she spurted her juices onto the glass wall in front of her. Trixie’s knowing tongue increased her pleasure to an almost unbearable level. She was in heaven.

Jessica decided to wait hanging, until the black bitch would lose consciousness. It made no sense to risk anything at this point. The race was over. Ayala was unable to lift herself from the spikes and all Jessica needed to do was to stay calm. When the Black would have finally passed out, she could so easily collect the flags and return to her starting field. And then she would be granted a fast death. A shot in the head. Fast, clean, painless. If she had had any tears remaining, Jessica would have started to cry.

In spite of her extreme exhaustion, Ayala was still trying to stand up. She was motivated by the brutal shocks that were coursing through her impaled body, causing her to jerk and buck helplessly, yanking powerfully on her spiked limbs. Each jolt brought a double mount of agony: from the electric shock and from the self-tearing of her flesh. She was screaming to the top of her lungs, her face stretched by the pain, her eyes bulging. Her limbs were seen moving along the spike as she desperately tried to free them. But to pull one out, she had to impale another deeper and her attempts were totally hopeless.

Time passed and Ayala's struggles got weaker and weaker. At last, she remained limp, although the jolts could still be heard and seen cracking all around her body. It had taken a long time for the black slave to finally lose consciousness. Her resistance and will power had proved much tougher than anybody would have imagined. But finally Ayala blacked out, and almost at the same time the electric flow stopped.

Jessica jumped from the frame and landed safely on the stage. She approached the motionless black body cautiously, but Ayala was as unconscious as it was possible, so Jessica could take the flags from her without risk. She stepped onto the Black’s thigh, pushing a spike deeper into Ayala’s flesh. She squatted down and reacher under Ayala’s ribs, grabbing the flags stuffed through the metal rings embedded in the slave’s rib bones, and pulled them out one by one. She was careful not to kill her opponent by driving the spikes into her lungs or heart. The human experiments required a living subject and after winning that brutal game and earning a fast death, Jessica did not want to take a dead Ayala's place.

There was still one untouched flag, standing in the middle of the spike field. It was sticking out right beside Ayala’s armpit. Jessica unplugged it and only then left Ayala alone. With the three flags in hand, she walked cautiously to Ayala’s water basin, avoiding acid, oil and flame-throwers, and indulged one second of rest as she took the two flags laying on the bottom of the water.

The way back to her own water basin was completely uneventful. Even the spectators remained silent as the winner finally dropped her collection into the water and fell after them.

’I won… I won… I WON!!!’ Jessica screamed inside her head. ’Now… they will come and kill me! Finally… it is over, the pain is over… no more pain ever, I can die, I can sink into oblivion. Finally… my God… thank you! Thank you!’ She was sitting in her water basin, with her distracted thoughts.

Chapter XXII - Ayala's death

„Ladies and Gentlemen! Today’s show is almost over. Congratulation to the slave who won her last game as well!” the ring speaker proclaimed. „A tremendous performance! No slave has ever won so many games in Ashagen’s arena! This lady has a secret. As the winner of today’s race, her prize normally should make her the main attraction of the final act. Fortunately, her exceptional skills dragged the attention of Ashagen’s leading personnel and the Mengele Institute’s leading researchers, so this fine piece of survivor slave is going to survive even longer.”

The man's words reached Jessicas foggy mind very slowly. Her eyes popped open and suddenly she started to scream, in her physical and mental state getting to know that her long-wished death was postponed made her lose all self-control. She wanted to jump up, to run, to fight, to immediately kill herself by jumping into the hot oil or impale herself on the spikes, but guards grabbed her from behind and raised her in the air by her shoulders. She was fighting, kicking, biting and thrashing around, but she was no match to the strong men. A strong hit to her nape knocked Jessica out, and her awfuly ruined body was taken away.

„What a fierce fighter! What a pity her arena-carreer is over. But the final act must be held, so even if the nigger slave does not deserve it, you can enjoy her final dance death. Slaves are so stupid. They do really think, that we would execute any of them by a head-shot? Ha ha ha. No way, ladies and gentlemen. No easy way to die ever for slaves.” the man continued.

Ayala was carefully lifted from the spikes. She suffered no lethal injury though her body was in a really messy condition. With the gaping wounds all across her body she was even unable to stand up or crawl. But still enough strength remained in her to entertain her torturers. The frame was lifted until it disappeared in the heights of the room, and a single metallic coloured rope was lowered with a loop at the end. Actually, the loop was a wide rubber ring with variable diametre, looking very flexible. The guards were obviously moving very cautiously on the stage, none of them wanted to slide into oil or acid, but at least the flame-throwers had been momentarily switched off. They laid Ayala on her back and injected two full syringe of a transparent liquid into her veins.

„We gave another set of stimulants to the slave. A special mixture of adrenaline, amphetamine and some other chemicals that would stir even a cadaver. This dose is normally lethal. It would kill a horse in a couple of hours. No heart can pulse at 200 beats per minute for a long time. But we need this black bitch to stay awake and entertain us with her death.” the man explained.

Indeed, Ayala soon regained consciousness, screaming, her eyes bulging wildly and wide open. Four guards were straining to keep the thrashing, super-powered woman in place while a fifth man placed the rubber ring around her neck and tightened it.

„This loop is designed for very long hanging executions\" the explanation continued. \"Victims with strong necks can last for half an hour if we use this special toy. The ring is thick enough not to crush the windpipe or completely cut air supply, at least as long as the muscles of the neck work properly. At long last, they will tire her breathing will narrow down to a trickle, which will finally be unable to sustain life. The rope can be controlled with a remote control, up and down and all across the stage, just by playing with a small joystick.”

The rope started to pull up until the rubber ring tightened around the Black’s neck, forcing the woman onto the very tip of her toes on the empty field from which she had fallen onto the spikes. The guards released the woman, who had no other restrain but the rubber noose around her neck.

Ayala's first reflex was to reach for the collar with her fingers and try to get some slack, but of course it was impossible. She was dancing on the tip of her toes, gagging and gasping, her mouth wide open, as if she could get more air. Finally, she grabbed the rope above her and her biceps were seen to bulge under her skin. She managed to pull herself up a little, just enough to release the pressure on her wind pipe and get more air. There was no way she could pass the ring over her head.

„The remote control is given to the owner of the victorious slave. It is the owner’s right tonight to control the loser slave’s move around the stage, as we switch back the flame throwers too. So, ladies and gentlemen, enjoy this black bitch’s last half hour of life. I wish you all wonderful excitements and a peaceful night.”

The guards left the stage hurriedly. Laura took the remote control with gleaming eyes. Her fingers were sticky from her own juices. A small stick controlled the horizontal, and another the vertical movements. It looked so much as a console for a remote-controlled air plane. Laura found this new toy extremely exciting.

Even if she had just experienced a fresh and quaking orgasm the power she got between her manicured fingers made her juices flowing again.

\"Come pet, make me cum again!\" she hissed to Trixie, and the willing slave slid between Laura's thighs happily, reaching up with her tongue, slurping the blonde demoness's juices. Laura closed her eyes for a moment enjoying the craving licks of her favourite slave, and when her eyelids opened again, her eyes were gleaming with the most horrific sadistic desire. Long nailed fingers stretched against the tiny sticks and the struggling Ayala was slowly raised up, her desperately stretched toes left the floor with dripping blood from their tip. The black slave was hopelessly clenching her fists on the rope to lessen the pressure on her throat. Her body was slowly spinning in the air.

Her slow ascension stopped half a metre above the stage and the rope shook her body around a bit, tearing gasping moans out of Ayala's gaping and grimacing mouth. Laura had clear difficulties to control the device as her freshly cumming, super sensitive pussy was licked and sucked by Trixie. Finally Ayala's struggling body started to move slowly over one of the acid basins. Rattling sounds could be heard as the mechanism moved the body, mixed up with the black girl's suffocating moans. The atmosphere became very scary when Tim Burton's steampunk style was combined with the effects of classical ghost movies. That time however it was not a movie but the bloody reality. A woman who had survived more than hundred days of severe torture was fighting for her very existence, condemned to hundred percent chance of failing her desperate attempts. A feminine index finger pushed a stick forward and Ayala started to descend, her kicking feet soon trembling just above the silent surface of one hundred litres of killer acid. Drops of blood fell into the liquid rippling around, while the blood itself evaporated in the aggressive substance. Another push from the same finger and Ayala's feet dipped into the acid, resulting in a show for all the audience savouring on the black woman's suffering!

Entirely focusing on her violent efforts to bring air to her craving lungs, Ayala's narrowing sight had not seen where the shaky moves of the device had brought her. Suddenly she felt something burning her toes. With a coarse scream, she lifted her feet while trying to look down at her poor feet but the rubber annulus that was strangling her also kept her head at an angle that prevented her from looking downward. Her black feet were dripping with acid mixed with blood, forming rivulets where her skin was being burned deeper. Unable to see at which level the acid actually was, Ayala was keeping her legs curled up. Her whole body was trembling and her face was a mask of agony and strangulation.

As soon as Ayala had found the adequate position for her legs to keep them away from the burning liquid, Laura raised her up a bit. She really did not want the slave to lose her strength too fast. She loved the wild dance the Black performed at the end of the rope, and wanted to enjoy the crawler like kicking and twisting as long as it was possible. Laura was a racist, the worst kind, even if her sadistic side made no real difference between black, yellow or even white slaves. Anything she found sexy was bound to suffer a living hell in her hands, and after years of practise she was very good at it. On the other hand, Laura felt something special for the battered black bitch. She felt that Ayala was far not suffering enough to leave the Earth and even if the slave's death was inevitable she wanted her suffer as long and painfully as it was humanly possible. Ayala was moved over the centre of the stage, where the boiling oil cauldrons were emiting the hellish heat, and with a rather elegant flick of her dainty finger, she let Ayala fall into oil, deep, almost touching the bottom with her destroyed soles.

Ayala's face was contorted with agony, her eyes were bulging out, saliva was drooling from her gaping mouth. She had managed to thread her fingers between the garrotte and her neck and had found that she could deform the ring in a way that allowed more air to pass through her constricted wind pipe. Her arms had gone too weak to lift her weight by now and this was her only way to survive. As she was hurled into the boiling oil, her first sensation was one of relief. Her feet could touch the bottom of the cauldron, allowing her to support her body and gather a deep lungful of oil-saturated air. The second sensation was that of incredible white hot agony as the 200°C oil burnt her feet. Ayala began to kick and thrash around, sending spray of burning oil all around, the droplets sizzling when they touched her skin.

Ayala was fighting with all her might. The helpless battle was incredible. The woes of strangulation and boiling were competing for their hold on Ayala's panicked mind. As long as the Black slave had enough air in her lungs, she was struggling to keep her fuming legs out of the bubbling soup, but when her chest was feeling the clenching of asphyxia, she desperately tried to stand on her curled, blistered, charred feet and release the pressure on her wind pipe. Whenever she succeeded, her strength was revived and her struggles could start with fresh violence.

Not even Laura expected such an intense reaction, and she happily savoured every horrible moment of the Black's suffering as the hot oil fulfilled its purpose and burned the woman's lower limbs to black chars. Trixie's knowing tongue and the pleasures yells from the audience all made Laura's vision blurred into a dreamlike heavenly state of mind, where everything was perfect, where everything was right and the happenings around were exactly what should have happened by the will of God. Or Satan, Laura did not care at all. She started to play a cruel game of raising up Ayala and let her drop again and again, several times, making the poor slave feel the hell and have some relief but only just to fall again.

Ayala was spinning madly and kicking her legs around. Her body was glistening from her sweat and from the oil dripping from it. Her muscles were like ropes under her skin, deforming her body as they all pulled in different directions. Laura was completely lost in her little wicked game, the slurping sounds coming from her ever-leaking pussy combined with the so exciting sounds coming from the stage drove her wild.

\"Suffer! Suffeeeerrr! Buuuurnnn! Oooohhhhhhh Trixiiieeeeeeeeee! Burn niggeeeeeeeer! Aaaooohhhh!\" Laura screamed and moaned, pressing only the tip of her index finger's nail against the stick, up and down, up and down again. Ayala was strong. Strong beyond human strength. She had enough strength left to be able to dance and keep her legs up an unbelievably long time. But every miracle must have an end, so did Ayala's endurance, and finally her legs dropped down. No will remained in her to avoid the torturous heat.

She was hanging limply, with only her arms showing any bit of fight as she pulled on the noose with her whitened fingers, a hissing breath coming out of her wide-gaping mouth. Her legs were stirred by twitches of agony but she was no longer able to lift them out of the boiling oil.

Laura left the woman suffering above and partially in the hot oil cauldron long enough to be sure almost every nerve endings had been destroyed under her skin, until she was very sure that Ayala could not feel any more pain in that part of her destroyed body. Only then did she pull the stick back and slowly raised the exhausted woman up, delighting in the sight of her blackly burnt legs and twisting figure. At that time, the Black was more dead than alive, but she was still moving and moaning, the remnants of her tongue protruding from between her fat lips, her face turning pale but obviously still able to feel pain.

Laura moved the sticks again, slowly directing the trembling body over one of the silent flame-throwers, high enough to be sure the bursts of flames would not burn Ayala's head immediately. The shaking body with the limp, useless legs was hanging above the black holes for almost twenty seconds before the next flame burst out. Within a moment it surrounded Ayala's body, both front and back. Bluish flames licked her less severely burnt ass, abdomen, around Ayala's waist, upto her breasts, even licking into the Black's mainly untouched armpits.

Ayala's lung did not contain enough air to let her scream but the expression of her face was clear enough that what she was trying to do was to deliver the loudest screech that a human body was able to produce. The flames were raging around her shaking body. They began to consume the smallest bits of flesh first, while larger, thicker parts covered in blisters. Her toes were soon reduced to blackened pieces of smoking bones.

Laura always thought it was anatomically impossible to scream when someone had a garrotte around her neck, but Ayala's neck muscles seemed to be really exceptional. The flames raised high in pulsating waves, one after another licked the muscular body of the slave, singing her hair but mainly roasting the amazon like female body. Trixie pushed two of her fingers into Laura messy asshole while cupping her mouth against the demoness' juicy pussy, Laura felt how her body weakened in utter pleasure. The remote control slid from her fingers and fell on the ground, leaving Ayala permanently in her place. Raging flames after flames bit into Ayala's body, while Laura started to scream, experiencing a destructive orgasm. She fell against the transparent wall, pushing her rosy lips against the plastic, as if she were kissing the roasting black body while Trixie brought new and and even harder waves of pleasure to her.

All the metal that had been pierced into Ayala's skin and muscles were now glowing red and propagating the heat into her very flesh. Some of them fell and jingled merrily as they bounced on the metal floor. Her nipples were among the first bits of her flesh to burn to ashes above her hips. In a flash, her armpit hair burned down to their roots and were replaced by bursting blisters.

Nobody knew exactly when the last moment of the black slave came. The flames had enough energy to swing the body slightly from side to side, but after some time it became obvious that no more movement was initiated by the body itself. Her fingers were still hooked between her neck and the noose but the muscles of her arms were no longer bulging. Ayala was not trembling, shaking or moaning any more. Her wide-open eyes were staring into nowhere. Her whole body was smoking and fat was sizzling on her charred flesh. The stage staff soon switched off the flame-throwers. The dead body of one of the longest-lived arena slaves was slowly spinning, the face puffed from suffocating and contorted from the hellish agony, while no single part of that body had remained untouched. An unnaturally black, charred, smoking carcass was hanging above the stage. On Ayala's forehead the sign of third class slaves had remained intact, showcasing how Ashagen's slaves finished their life for the sake of their owners.

Chapter XXIII - Back to Athis' dungeon

She was dreaming. A very long and rather nightmarish dream from which she was unable to wake up. From the very first moment until the last, Aurelia was aware of her own existence, but she simply had no strength to fight or affect the happenings around her. She was dizzy all the time, her body was weak, her limbs were motionless and all her senses were foggy. Blurred vision, half-deaf ears and almost senseless skin, even though the nightmare definitely contained some extremely painful scenes for the agent's foggy mind. She was in a hospital, white walls and people wearing white coats were surrounding here all the time. Cold, blue lights blinded her eyes, and she was mostly laying on white sheets. Naked and defenseless, her body was vulnerable to all the dirty things the white coated people did to her. And they did, without any bad conscience.

They touched her, tapped her, caressed her, males and females took their time with her. She was washed again and again, in and out, long tubes were led into all of her orificies and she was washed with warm, cold, hot and icy water again and again. They washed her vagina, her intestines, her oral cavity and her stomach. Awful soap and medicine smell filled her nose for a long-long time. Every single spot of her body was cleaned, sometimes gently, sometimes roughly. Burning creams were smeared along her body, into the several wounds, on her skinless soles, until her whole body was on fire and she felt like suffering in the evil flames of the deepest pits of hell. She could not really remember what had happened and in what order, but she clearly remembered when the nails sticking out from her heel-bones had been removed with drills, hammers and scalpels, bringing never-ending, throbbing pain into her whole skeleton.

She could not see her own body nor smell anything else but antiseptics, but after a time that felt like eternity, the overall burning of her body faded away and she started to feel less exhausted and much healthier.

But the examinations did not end. Male and female doctors opened all her holes again to insert shiny metal tools into her, photographing every small piece of her body, took a sample of every tissue in her body and of every bodily fluid her body produced, mocking her or admiring her all the time. \"Good girl!\", \"Dirty bitch!\", \"What an endurance!\", \"Disgusting fuckpig!\", \"Amazon warrior\", \"Shameless cunt\". Words were surrounding her when male doctors and nurses started to use her motionless body, inserting pricks into every hole she had, raping her and filling her with their sperm. She tasted the familiar flavour of sticky sperm, loads after loads, which was still much better than the awful stench and taste of medicines they forced into her. They washed her again, inside and outside, making her body shining and all her internal cavities free from every known kind of infections or contaminations.

She was not sure of what was happening but she felt like being in a vessel, the humming sound of engines and a light tremor indicated she was driving to somewhere.

\"Amazing body, amazing specimen! I really don't know how you found this girl, but she is showing the same qualities as the one you donated for us a couple of days ago! Except that this one is still in perfect condition!\" Doctor Wesserling said in rapturous voice. \"Even if our institute cannot be grateful enough for having the other one I still need to highlight what fantastic development could be triggered by having this healthy specimen in our labs.\"

\"Enough of this, doctor.\" replied Laura in her most chilling voice. She was wearing a rather whorish red dress with short skirt, perfect make up. She was impatiently swinging on her high-heels while looking at Aurelia's body with obvious anger. The agent was laying on a heavy ironbed on white sheets with her wrists and ankles chained to the four corners with metal cuffs. Next to Laura, Athis was sitting on a comfortable armchair and slowly smoking a huge cigar. The wicked doctor of the Mengerle institute was standing at the agent's head. Aurelia started to regain her full consciousness. She remembered that a hood had just been removed from her head so that she could look around, even though her mouth was gagged by a huge ball-gag, which even had holes for her artificial fangs. She was naked except for all the piercing around her body. Physically she felt good, even better than ever since her arrival, but the cold eyes measuring her were not good auspices.

\"Tell me, why would she be so important for you? Why is she so special?\" Laura asked and Wesserling's thin body curved into a yielding position.

\"I can't tell you why.\" he replied with half-closed eyes, looking up to Laura from behind his thick glasses. \"What I can tell you is what we have found so far...\"

\"Shut up, doctor! You know exactly what I mean!\" Laura's sharp voice cut into the air. \"What makes this disobedient piece of tasty meat so special? What is her body capable of?\"

\"Yes, yes, milady. If you would let me. I'm a man of science, not a natural born speaker, if I may say so, I need to be specific...\"

\"Doctor!\" Laura hissed in very scary voice, her green eyes reflected her diabolical insanity, but only for a split second.

\"Well, the subject looks to be at the end of her twenties, a well-developed female. She suffered rather tough treatment before she arrived to our hospital, even though no marks of them remains now. My team suspected that the rest of her moderately serious injuries were no more than 48 hours old, but when she arrived here, her wounds and surface damages were already half-healed. Amazing regenerating ability! Just to make it clear. Her body was sunburned so heavily that, normally, weeks would have been necessary to regenerate her skin. She was burned on several spots of her body, especially around the abdomen area. Based on my tissue examinations, that burning was actually a second-degree injury, but a brand new layer of skin was already forming under the burnt pelt. See this light pink spot above her belly button? This should be still a huge blister. But the tissues were healed, almost completely. Within two days! Her labias were extremely elongated , in a way that normally leads to completely irreversible modification. Of course we needed to apply some surgery, but look! Those labias were hanging down almost at knee level, now they are only slightly longer than any porn actresses' cuntlips who is in the industry for 20 years and has been fucked by thousands of dicks. They are still... loose, but they do not look anymore like the ears of a donkey, but more like some bat wings. Some people might find them disgusting, but for me they are just pretty.\"

\"Extraordinary.\" Athis noticed.

\"More than that. It is a miracle, or at least something very special. We don't know, if this is some kind of natural ability or caused by artifical intervention. In the second hypothesis, the technology that was used on her is much more developed than what we have at the moment at the Mengerle Institute.\" Wesserling excitedly explained.

\"Is she of the same kind as the other slave?\" Laura asked as her fingers slowly slid on Aurelia's calf and playfuly caressed the woman's limb.

\"We don't know. It might be. We didn't have enough time to make a real, deep research on them. We anaylized her blood and discovered that the hormone content is clearly abnormal, but don't know the reasons. If we had more time to...\"

\"Doctor! She is mine! And you won't get her, I promise. I pay enough donation to your institute to heal my slaves if I wish, but I really don't care of your whining. What else?\" Laura's cold voice filled the room again, which seemed to be the hall of Athis's home.

\"Well, both of her soles were actually skinned, but if you have a look at them you can see brand new, rosy skin. Two nails had been screwed into her heel bones, and we needed to drill them out as the bone-tissues had completely engulfed them. Another note is that after the removal, her heel bones were completely regenerated, no sign of any of those injuries. Just as a comparison, fractured bones normally need around three to five weeks to heal. She made that in two days. And her nails! Her nails are amazing!\"

\"I wouldn't say so!\" Laura hissed angrily. \"Someone broke her big toenail on this foot! It is much shorter than the others!\" she said pressing her pretty lips together.

\"Mylady. This slave went through several very severe torments before she arrived to us. But if that may satisfy you, all the cadaver slaves who took part in her torture were burnt to death alive. I have heard it from the hunters.\"

\"Good. So what about her nails?\"

\"These are not really nails, at least not literally. These are claws, weapons, boosted with celluloid filaments the human body normally does not excrete. They are almost as tough as iron, and growing very fast! I wonder how that simple toenail was broken, as all the other nails are completely intact. And look at them! They are extremely long now, they are growing around seven times faster than they should! This subject is a living weapon, not a human! With those nails, she can easily cut through muscles, tendons and veins. If I were believing in vampires, I would say she is one of those fantastic creatures.\"

\"Very interesting, doctor. Thank you for your time. I think we have some things to do, hope too see you soon.\" Athis declared as he stood up and, ignoring Wesserling's protest, pushed him out of the door. When he came back he stared at Laura. The ninja and the diabolic woman stood like that for long seconds without a word. Finally Athis started to speak.

\"I told you, Laura, she is not yours. She is fucking mine! She is my slave, my property!\"

\"Really? Then why did I have to pay for her medical treatments? Why do I look for additional shows for her to help you make more money out of her? Not to mention the loan... I require you to take her immediately back to my place! She was disobedient, this is unacceptable! You did not train her well and that almost caused big loss for both of us! You cannot handle this girl, Athis! From now on I will be in charge!\"

\"Forget it, you insane bitch! Ashagen's law is on my side. I will repay you everything, don't worry! Soon. She is fucking mine and I gently ask you not to force me to call the police, which will carry you out of here. Time to leave, Laura. I will let you know when and where she will perform next time. Until that time you have nothing to do here!\" Athis said in still calm and low voice, but full of threat and anger. Laura spinned around on her heels and headed toward the door. But before leaving she looked back one last time above her shoulder.

\"You will regret this, Athis! You will regret this, I swear...\" she said, her voice was trembling with repressed hysteria. The door closed with a loud bang, as the jeans-and-t-shirt clad man slowly walked to Aurelia.

\"Back to you, slut. You were a bad girl. And bad girls must be punished. Your escape caused me a lot trouble, dear. You were supposed to participate in a short race. Fortunately the responsibility for your escape fell upon the owner of the castle so I did not lose money, but the cancellation of your race prevented me from winning on the bets. Actually, you caused me a loss of profit. Which is more than unacceptable! I'll make sure you won't do this again, panther bitch, I promise\".

Aurelia did not move. Actually, she had not moved during the whole conversation. She had been treated like an object and she had reacted like one. But she had not missed one word of what had been said. Her special \"features\" had been discovered and even analysed. This was very bad news. Also, Vlad was here in Ashagen. He knew of her affiliation. Obviously he had not said anything but this could change. Aurelia was back to her starting point but it was as urgent as ever to break free and leave this place. She was in a perfect condition. It was barely believable after all she had been through. This would help her regaining her freedom. But for the moment, shackled and gagged, she remained still, as if unconcerned by Athis' comments.

Chapter XXIV - The sweater cell

Aurelia was moved deeper into Athis's home, back to the small room where she had been imprisoned the first time. A big, glass-walled cylinder was standing in the middle of the room, while the torture table had been moved to a corner. It was a transparent cylinder of 1.5 metres in diameter and about four-metre high. The device's roof was almost touching the ceiling of the room. Flexible plastic tubes and much thinner wires were attached to its base, connecting it to the walls of the room. Its base and top were chromed discs about 30-centimetres high. The floor of the cylinder was a serried steel grate. In the middle of the cell, an upside down T-shaped handrail was hanging from the top. The silhouette of a small door was barely visible in the glass wall, with a massive eletronic lock outside. The door looked like the entrance to a shower cabin, seamlessly suited to the hole. The door was no more than one metre high and half metre wide, pretty narrow for an adult person. Silhouettes of several small holes of around 10 centimetres were also visible all around at different heights. Each of them could be opened although they were currently locked with tiny versions of the big electronic lock.

Athis smiled coldly and let Aurelia enough time to look at the the strange cell.

\"The inventor calls this clever device the 'Sweater cell'. A good friend of mine lent it to me. It is said to be the perfect way to deal with disobedient slaves. The walls are made from steel glass. Nobody, not even you, could break them. You might be able to scratch the surface with those nails of yours, but the more damage you do the longer you will stay inside. You don't have to think too much, you go inside and survive. You won't like this too much, I promise. You will be kept there until I feel you really regret what you have done. I will try to make this interesting an funny for you, I really don't want you to get bored. I know how dangerous you are, so you surely understand what is coming now.\" Athis took an electric prod from a nearby table. He touched the tip of the prod to Aurelia's robs and pushed the button. Strong and shocking electric jolts ran through the woman's body.

Aurelia's body arched into a bow as her butt left the table and her powerful limbs, deformed by the bulging knots of clenched muscles, yanked hard on her restraints. Her jaws were trying to crush the ball gag while a long screech of agony echoed between the walls. Jolt after jolt coursed her nerves, forcing the helpless girl into a horrible laying dance. Her steel-hard buttocks and her back kept banging noisily into the chromed table, whenever the electricity ceased to animate her muscles. She was barely able to feel her lungs through her flaring nostrils before the next jolt lifted her again in to a bridge of twisting agony. Her eyes were bulging, her muscles were knotted by horribly throbbing cramps. She was suffocating. Flashes and stars were exploding inside her eyeballs. She could not think, she could not beg, she could not protest.

Athis repeated it several times, until Aurelia's eyes rolled back. She was drooling uncontrollably as she was half knocked out. The cylinder's door was opened and Aurelia's restraints were released. Athis lifted her body and started to push her through the small opening, arms and head first, grabbing her buttocks and pushing them in as well. As she was unable to move or react, stuffing in her legs was quite a difficult task but finally he managed to push her feet inside too. The door was closed and locked.

The Agent had been unable to move or resist as she was squeezed through the narrow opening. Nor was she able to absorb her fall as she slid down and landed into a heap on the thin grate that was forming the floor of her new prison. Slowly, the cramps subsided and she began to move and sit up. She was massaging her sore muscles and rubbing her chaffed joints. Sitting on the floor, her back resting against the transparent wall, she looked around at her new environment.

The cell seemed to be completely soundproof and just as hermetically sealed. She could feel that the amount of oxygen inside was already dramatically low, as she was panting unusually hard . A closer look under the floor grate revealed a shiny surface pierced with countless needle-sized openings. The wall was so clean that she could see with crystal clarity Athis standing next to her, not even half a metre away, but separated by the unbreakable glass. The ninja clipped a microphone to the neck of his t-shirt and suddenly his voice filled the cylinder at such a horrible volume that she thought for a moment that the world had collapsed.

\"LISTEN TO ME! YOU WILL SUFFER... UFFER... FER... RRRR... I CONTROL YOU, CONTROL EVERYTHING AROUND YOU. THE AIR, THE TEMPERATURE, THE SOUNDS. EVERYTHING. YOU WILL LEARN NOW HOW TO FOLLOW ORDERS. EVERY ORDERS. IMMEDIATELY. OR ELSE...\"

He did not finish his sentence and switched his microphone off. He walked to the torture table and picked up something that looked like a remote control. He put on sunglasses and smiled coldly. Suddenly sharp and very strong white lights flooded both from the cell's floor and ceiling. They were so harsh that they hurt and blinded the eyes, while simultaneously it radiated such an intense heat that it parched the woman's recently healed body.

Aurelia closed her eyes but the light was so intense that it seemed to pass through her eyelids, blinding her with red light. She pressed her hands onto her eyes to protect them. She curled herself into a ball, as if it could protect her from the intense heat. It felt as if she had suddenly been put into an oven. The heat was burning her from above and below. She had begun to sweat profusely. Soon, the oxygen-depleted air itself was over-heated and breathing it was burning her wind-pipe and lungs. Her skin was pouring with perspiration, which could not evaporate and refresh her in the sweat-saturated atmosphere. It felt as if she was going to be boiled alive into her own sweat. The grate she was sitting upon was also getting hotter and hotter and she could feel it burning the skin of her butt and soles.

Was she going to be cooked alive?

In the depth of her mind, Aurelia knew it would not happen. She was too valuable. She would probably not even be marked or wounded in any way. She would only be tortured up to the limits of her resistance...

Suddenly, extremely loud bursts of unbearable noise echoed through the tank, the screaming and rattling sounds of some horrible music:

And She postured proud,

When Her crimes were trowelled,

And jezebelled to peasant lips,

Though She smelt the fires,

That licked limbs higher,

To the tortured cunts of accomplices\"

(Cradle of Filth - Bathory Aria)

The sound seemed to explode in Aurelia's very skull. Its suddenness made her jump, and then she curled into an even tighter ball, pushing her head between her knees, pressing them against her ears to protect them from the drilling noises that seemed to pierce her ear-drums. It had little effect though. The screeches and bangs seemed to whirl around her body, to penetrate it through her skin and bones, to reverberate on her skeleton. It was a maddening sound. It was banging inside her skull, threatening to render her mad.

Blinded and deafened, she had lost her most important senses, along with the sense of the world reality. She was curled like a ball of anguished flesh, bumped from all directions in an ocean of pain and craziness. Soon she had lost any sense of orientation or self-awareness. Her only goal was to protect her eyes and ear, as her skin was slowly burning and melting down. But even in that state, she could not ignore the fact that the grate she was sitting on suddenly crackled with electric jolts, bit into her legs, make her body tensing.

For a moment, Aurelia tried to ignore it. She did not want to uncurl, to expose her body and face to the flashes of light and to the horrific noise. She felt the jolt coursing her butt and feet. Her legs began to jerk uncontrollably. The jolts were first picking at her skin, then pinching, then they seemed to twist her very muscles, to dig needles into her nerves. Her toes and feet were curled hard, horribly twisted by painful cramps. Her calved and buttocks were as hard as stone. At last, the poor agent could not resist any longer. She had to escape the electricity.

She jumped on her feet, her arms folded around her eyes and ears. She began to hop on the crackling floor, lifting her feet incoherently in a mad dance of pain. She banged against the glass walls, against the T-shaped handrail. Her body was contorting as the electricity crawled up her shaking legs. But she did not want to use her arms for any other task but protect her over-powered senses. For a moment at least. Finally, the cramps in her legs were too much. They were progressing from her feet to her calves and then to her thighs. When they reached he lower belly, it was too much. Leaving her head offered to the noise and blinding light, she grasped the upside-down T and lifted herself from the floor.

Immediately, the pain receded in her cramped legs. At first, they were hanging uselessly -- but not limply, as her rock-hardened muscles were pulling them into inhumanly contorted shapes -- under her and she had to support her whole weight with her arms. But after some time she recovered some of their use and she managed to lift them over the handrail and to hook the horizontal bar under the crook of her knees, while clutching the vertical part against her torso. She was safe from the electric jolts now, but she felt the noise and light even deeper in her body. The handrail acted like a conductor for the noise vibrations, driving them straight into her skeleton.

She hanged from the handrails for an uncertain amount of time. And then, as suddenly as they had begun, the lights and the music stopped. She remained curled around the handrail for a moment. She did not dare to unfold her trembling body. Sweat was dripping from her toes, the metal rail was slipping between her perspiration soaked hands. At last, she opened her eyes and blinked, looking around herself, aghast and shaken.

The man's calm voice filled the cabin again but its volume, especially compared to the terrible music, was far more bearable. He was mocking the girl in an almost warm voice but his face was a mask of coldness.

\"You seem to lack some fresh air, don't you? I have seen slaves spending hours under those lights. This clever device can actually be used to completely roast human bodies. The dazzle lights are good for scorching the skin, but I can also switch on the microwaves, which would definitely cause your body's water molecules to boil. A most horrible sight, and it seems quite painful as well. I would not advise you to force me to use that on you. But back to your oxygen supply, those lights should have roasted your face to a nice lobster red shade. Instead, your are slowly turning blue. Weird but still sexy. Whatever. Would you like to have some fresh air? Show me how grateful you would be if I were to open some breathing holes for you!\"

By now, Aurelia was panting hard. It seemed to her that her breaths were hollow. They filled her lungs but they did not bring any relief to their burning. Unknowingly, her mouth was gaping and her belly was heaving fast, as if hyperventilating. She could feel a head-ache germinating in her brains. She came closer to the transparent wall and pressed her body against it, flattening her impressive breasts against the glass. She began to roll and rock her hips in a sensuous way, as if she were performing a pole dance, licking her lips and rubbing her body with her sweaty hands.

\"You are still sexy. You are a fucking demon-bitch. No matter how much you suffer you can make the seed in my balls boils up at any time. I must warn you that I hate you, and actions like your foolish runaway was worse than a bad idea. Your only luck is that I need you for earning money and for fulfil my sexual desires, so I'm granting you one more chance. I want you to open your ass and place your gaping hole against this opening.\" He knocked on one of the openings at about waist height. The man was holding a long, flexible rubber tube, ending in a punctured, tennis-ball-sized rubber sphere. Athis began to explain the purpose of this contraption in a slow, calm voice.

\"This is going to be your umbilical cord, the channel through which you can breathe. It is going to be a somewhat slow and somewhat tricky way of gaining enough oxygen, but I want you to fight for it; using the sluttish way as you are a disobedient slut. You will host this ball into your ass so I can fill you up with air. With oxygen, to be more specific. This pump can push pressure up into your guts to around five bars, but that would be definitely lethal. You are strong, you should cope easily with up to three atmospheres, even if I am said that it is very painful. The rule is simple: As long as you keep that ball into your rectum, you will be filled with oxygen upto the mentioned three bars. If you move away earlier, I'll just shut off the tap and you will have much less air to breathe. It is important for you to know that from that moment, you will not get any more air for the next 15 minutes. So, in your place, I would try to gather as much oxygen as possible. It is better for you to stay awake and finish your punishment as soon as possible. My rules are strict: If you faints then every minute you spend out add two more minutes to your awaken time in the cabin. For the moment, you will stay here for three hours as punishment for your escape. Of them you have already passed 20 minutes, leaving you with 140 minutes to go. Make a good job, panther cunt, fight for your air.\"

Aurelia had been listening to those explanation, mouth gaping and panting. Her eyes had widened in horror as she realised how devious this man actually was. But she knew better than to rebel. In that cell, she was totally powerless and could only hope to get out of it quickly by accepting Athis' devious desires. She heard a soft ticking as a lock was manoeuvred and the circular hole was opened, outwards. She pressed her butt against the hole and could only feet a very thin air stream. She knew that Athis had the power to close that small opening easily if she refused to obey. The tennis-ball-sized sphere could barely pass through the hole on the cabin's wall. She felt it pushing between her buttocks and against her half-gaping anus. She tried to relax as the pressure increased, the ball forcing her sphincter wider and wider. She was fighting the urge to jump away from that evil plug. It was so big. The ball had not yet entered her body and already it felt as if it was going to tear her rectum apart. Grimacing, her fingers digging into the muscles of her trembling buttocks to spread them as much as she could, she remained firmly in place. At last, her anus reached the size if the ball which got engulfed into her bowels. It was pushed deeper, her sphincter narrowing around the tube connected to it.

\"Very good. Now I start to fill you up. Remember, more oxygen means longer supply which leads to a much shorter stay in the Sweater Pit!\" Athis said. With a loud humming, an airpump came alive, sucking oxygen out of a nearby gas container and pushing it up into Aurelia's shapely ass, deep inside her intestines.

Aurelia immediately felt the high pressure stream gushing into her bowels. It was not really painful, but it was disagreeable. Slowly, the pressure began to rise inside her intestines. The oxygen was progressing along them, making them stretch and bulge. Her belly began to bloat, and she felt as if she were suffering from aerophagia. The feeling got increasingly painful. From a slightly bloated, her belly grew to a round bulge, making her look like a 5-month-pregnant woman. Cramps were building in her bowels, making the poor girl moan and sweat like a pig. Her intestines were pressing up against her stomach and then her diaphragm, making breathing even more difficult. She was feeling nauseous but she was fighting with all her mind to remain in place, plugged on the tennis ball, her buttocks flattened against the glass wall. Her face was grimacing and she was contorting her hands and arms helplessly, massaging her round belly to spread the air more equally inside the twists of her internal organs.

At some time, when her belly had was bulging like a 9-month-pregnancy, she began to feel air coming up her oesophagus and belching through her mouth and nose with a smelly taste. Immediately, Athose pulled off the pipe, leaving the ball inside Aurelia's rectum. The trapdoor was shut of hermetically as the sweating spy fell on her knees, holding her bloated belly with her trembling hands. She had expected her bowels to expel the air immediately, but somehow the ball was acting like a plug, keeping the air inside her. The cramps that were knotting her belly were driving her crazy and she was gasping for fresh air. The atmosphere was now so rare that the girl's head was turning. She needed that air trapped inside her organs.

Reaching between her legs, Aurelia shoved three fingers inside her anus. She found the ball and grabbed it bit its holes. She then began to pull it out with gentle motions. At last the ball popped out, immediately followed by a noisy, uncontrollable farting concerto as her bowels deflated. She tried to close her anal sphincter to stop the flatulence but her anus had been kept stretched wide for too long and would not close completely. And thus her intestines emptied themselves from the air that had been forced into them. It was a long, painful process. And how humiliating. It was both noisy and stinking, and it kept on going continuously for nearly one minute. Then it began to come in bursts.

At the same time, the stinking oxygen was filling the cell, allowing Aurelie to breathe more freely. The stench was thick but at this point of asphyxia she did not mind and was just gulping air with relish. It took nearly three minutes for her body to completely release the gas that had been stocked inside it. The whole time she had been able to breathe more or less freely. When the last fart was gone, she knew that she would not get any more air for the next 12 minutes. Therefore, to economise her energy, she sat down and rested her back against the wall. She tried to breathe the most slowly she could. Progressively, the air got poorer and poorer. Her head began to turn again as she panted, mouth wide gaping. She wanted to bang her fists against the glass wall, but she knew it would only make her consume her oxygen faster. Her lungs began to burn. She got back on her feet so as to find fresher air floating in the top of the cell. She found some and this revived her somewhat to endure the last minutes of her plight. At last, the 15 minutes were elapsed.

\"Amazing, what a capacity you have in your bowels, dear. I was told that no woman ever stood more than 10 minutes consuming their body-stocked oxygen, but you did 15 minutes right after a highly oxygen shortrun state. You do impress me again.\" Athis said. Then, one of the circular holes at waist height was opened.

Aurelia felt fresh air enter the cell. It revived her enough for her to kneel up and press her face against the hole, breathing in deeply. Athis gleefully admired ther girl's lips as they were almost passionately pressed around the whole and sucked the fresh air with desperate, big gulps.

Chapter XXV - Sucking for her life

\"You cannot imagine how badly I want to fuck those rosy lips of yours right now.\" the man said, his loud voice reverberated in the cell. \"Unfortunately, I know exactly how tricky and dangerous a cunt you are. I really wouldn't risk to have my dick bitten off or slayed by your fangs. On the other hand, I'm still curious about what you would do to a prick, so I have prepared a nice game for you.\"

He picked up a small walkie-talkie from his pocket. \"Bring in the slaves, the cunt is ready for some play.\" he instructed before switching the device off. A couple of minutes later a weird group of peoples arrived, led by a tall woman wearing a black, full-body latex outfit and assorted extremely high-heeled platform shoes. The latex was sticking narrowly to her body, showing all the tiny curves that female anatomy had to show while still hiding them, as if her skin had been turned to a shiny and glittering black. Only her hands and head remained uncovered. At the tip of slender fingers, extremely long fingernails were shining. The woman was blonde and had a pretty face with artificially frizzy hair, a face Aurelia knew all too well. She was Kelly, the overseer of the Pain Bringer Arena stables, the cruel woman who had caused so many suffering and pain to all the unfortunate slaves locked in the Arena's basement or performing during those diabolic games.

Right behind Kelly a short coffle of men, a group of five slaves followed. It was obvious that they were slaves: four of them were showing the horrible third-class-slave branded sign on their forehead. The fifth man had probably the same mark but his whole face was covered under a rubber mask, leaving only a small hole around his mouth to breath. He was producing sucking sounds with every breath, like Darth Vader in Star Wars. Otherwise the men were naked and their bodies were showing clearly why they belonged to the third class. They were human wrecks. Hundreds of leaking wounds and branding welts covered their skin. All of them were an adventure for any legal physician who would have worked on their bodies after their death. The men were linked together by leashes attached to their collars, which were made of a metal strip curved into a complete circle around their neck. Those collars seemed to be permanent, the work of a blacksmith who had worked with heat and hammers. It was impossible to ignore the fact that the men had no other restraints apart from their collars. Nothing else was really needed. They had no arms. Those were five muscular males whose arms had been cut at the shoulder, and cauterized by raw fire.

All five men were actually lurching as if they were drunk, but from the sad condition of their bodies it was more probable that they were exhausted and that each step caused them great pain. Huge ball-gags were forcing their mouths wide open, and they were moaning continuously, which sounded like the humming of a strange engine. All five of them had huge, really long and thick cocks, which were fully erect. All dicks and balls sported a black ring circling their base, forcing the blood into the huge cocks and keeping it there permanently.

Through the wall of her cell Aurelia could see their faces. One of the armless third-class slaves seemed very familiar to her. It was the guy called Billy, who had been working for Trixie, back in Carrick City. The tall, blonde, handsome lad's once pretty face was no more the dream of teenage girls. He looked broken, and just as all the other men his whole presence was radiating lost hope and eagerness for a fast and painless death. Billy was a thug, a guy who not so long ago had worked for the slaver Mafia. He enjoyed causing pain and make unfortunate women scream. He was the one who had torn dozens of piercings off Jane, the black girl Aurelia had first met on her mission. Billy was the one who had ruthlessly forced a metal tube into Jane's sphincter and stuffed all the body piercing into her body. He used to be an immoral sadist, but he had become a pain-toy himself. He could have been a happy citizen of Ashagen, but instead of being a torturer he had become a torturee. If God existed, that was only justice.

\"Ciao, Athis dear, here we come!\" Kelly greeted Aurelia's owner with an innocent smile and playfully kissed the man on his cheek. \"I got the stock as you required. Five of our used-up cock-meat, just ready to be butchered or sent to the death pit. They are very cheap. As requested, we transferred their price from your Arena account. And my time is free for you today, darling. Kinda boring days, no race, not too much fun before the quarterly Elven Adventure. I'm happy I could go out a little. And here is our lovely, nasty Aurelia!\" She giggled and stepped next to the sweater cell, squatting down to bring her face level with Aurelia's.

\"How do you do, girl? Have heard rumours about your runaway show. See, stupid girls end up in places like this\" she said before reaching through the hole with her index finger. Instantly Aurelie retracted from her only breathing hole, hiding with difficulty the hate and fear she was feeling for Kelly.

\"Don't fucking pull away, bitch! Come here now and show me your face!\" Kelly shouted in a rather unladylike voice. Aurelia knew better than disobey. Not in so nasty and helpless a situation. Reluctantly, she brought her face back against the transparent wall, opening her mouth around the hole and the girl's finger.

\"See, you like my caresses, don't you? Ohhhh... you have such a wonderful mouth. Your vampire teeth make you even more attractive. Open your mouth wide. But I warn you, if you even scratch my hand you will be in very deep shit, slave! Wider! Good... oooohhhhh... so weeet and hooot!\" Kelly moaned as she was pushing her bony hand deeper inside Aurelia's oral cavity, until her wrist had almost disappeared between the agent's lips. Aurelia's face was reddening as she tried to fight the gag reflex. Her jaws were wide open and she could feel the hand exploring her mouth and tongue carelessly. She was drooling over her chin. Kelly's hand had a nasty taste, a mix of sweat, female and male sexes. Her pointy fingernails playfully scratched Aurelia's throat, then she pinched the red tonsil between her thumb and index finger, squeezing it slightly. This was too much for the gagging Aurelia and this last attack made her stomach to contract, throwing a stream of bile to her mouth, all over Kelly's hand.

\"I love it so much when slaves puke directly on my hand! So sloppy!\" she giggled and removed her hand from the girl's throat, admired the long strands of saliva and puke connecting her fingers and Aurelia's lips. \"Ohhh... I love the depths of throats.\" Kelly hissed in excitement. Then she absent-mindedly whipped her hand over the prisoner's face and hair. \"May I explain to the bitch what is coming?\" she asked Athis. As the man nodded his agreement, she turned back to Aurelia.

\"'Urelia-luv! Look at those lads, these slaves., these practically dead pieces of fine male meat. You need to know something about them. They have been serving in the Arena for a long time, but finally we consummated the rest of their passion and physical health, so they have no value for us anymore. During their last days on this earth, we usually lend them out for anybody who needs some erect cocks for their games, whatever those games are. As you can see, their cocks are tied up and they are also injected with enough aphrodisiac drugs to keep them erect for a whole week. The same mixture forces their balls to produce extreme loads of sperm, although this leads to the complete decay of their seed-glands. A lot of them usually die before that happens, but even if they survive, once they lose the ability to get natural erection they become totally useless. So today you can play with doomed guys. You will be their last experience on this world. Be nice to them!\" the woman giggled as if she were telling an innocent joke.

\"They have been led from place to place and have participated to every kind of games for a long time. I guess all of them have ejaculated around fifteen times in the last 24 hours. Alas for them, they cannot feel pleasure anymore, only pain, but they still can cum if needed. Believe me, I know that very well. So here is the game. You lucky girl will get five dicks inside your cell and you have to make each of them cum once. You will have to do your best, because even if they are hard like rock, they won't respond to senseless yanking. Actually, they won't react to passion or playfulness as well. At this point they are more like machines: a precise mechanical approach is recommended. But...\" she giggled again. Her high-pitched voice was really annoying and sounded silly.

\"But while you work on those cocks, your handsome master will provide you some fun, to make the exercise much more interesting. No need to explain more, you will find out very soon. And, now is coming my favourite trick! What is about... what the fuck is that about, Athis-luv? I forgot!\" Kelly looked embarassed and for a moment her pretty face looked really stupid.

\"Cunt!\" Athis's voice filled the cell, he was talking through the mic, so unlike Kelly he was really sounding like some god from beyond the sky. \"You are an arena slave, and you have to win. All the time. Being fast, being skilled and athletic or having high pain tolerance is not enough. You have to be aggressive, you have to be cruel, you have to be effective. So consider this not only as a punishment, but as a training as well. You are good in the arena, but if this proves you weak, I might not spare your life today. Without aggressivity, you are just one of the thousands lazy slut slaves around.\" Athis explained very slowly, his voice deprived of any emotion. That man was very disciplined.

\"You can make cum four of the slaves, but one of them is unable to do that. His urethra is blocked. Kelly inserted a double capsule deep inside his meat. Deep means it can be even fifteen centimetres deep around the base of their cocks. He is not able to cum, but you will need the capsules to survive. At some point I will start to fill your cell with poisonous gas. You will recognize it easily by its green colour. The poison is lethal once it reaches a certain concentration and causes some effects right from the beginning. It is a nerve-system poison. It cramps the muscles, starting in your limbs. It is said to hurt like hell. After long-lasting cramps, the muscles start to burn from inside. It is the same feeling as having acid injected into your tissues. Of course you will lose completely the control of body-waste excretion. The final stage is reached when your eyes, mouth, nose and ears start to bleed. The muscles allowing you to breathe are blocked and you suffocate and bleed to death simultaneously.\" He was speaking in the tone of someone reading a cooking recipe.

\"The poison acts through your lungs only. It does not cause any irreversible damage up to the actual death. It is just painful. The capsules in that cock contain an antidote that will counteract the effect of the poison. I don't need to give you tips of how to do it. You are a professional at tearing flesh with your claws and making men cum whenever you want. Even if we can't see anything, Kelly can confirm if any of your slave partners has just cum. Good luck, panther!\" he finished talking.

He pushed a button and some hidden pumps began to feed fresh, cool air into the cell, bringing relief to Aurelia.

Aurelia filled her burning lungs with the reviving gas. It was exhilarating, but also she felt so powerless that even air could be removed from her. Meanwhile, Kelly opened four other holes at waist level and positioned the slaves against them. She forced their darting cocks and balls completely inside Aurelia's cell. The men did not struggle. They seemed to act like zombies. Then Kelly spread a thick layer of a jelly-like stuff around the holes. The jelly spilled around the base of the slaves' cocks and acted as some kind of gelatinous glue. It was hermetically closing any room between the slaves' groins and the holes. Finally, leather straps were used to secure the butts and legs of the slaves against the cylinder, by means of high-tech suction-cups applied to the transparent wall. The straps were pushing the armless men strongly against the sweater cell, blocking any movement they might have intended to do.

Aurelia looked at the man who had been Billy and gave him an interrogative look, hoping that he would somehow help her to find who's cock was hiding the precious capsules. Billy stared back through the glass-wall. His blue eyes were so full of pain and sorrow that even Jane might have felt pity for him. He recognized Aurelia, a momentary flash in his eyes betrayed him, but he did not react to the girl's silent sign. Either he was hating her, or he did not know what she wanted to learn. Or more probably, Aurelia thought, he was the one who had been stuffed with the capsules and he was hoping that her former prisoner would die before finding out and tearing her cock to shreds.

Aurelia was kneeling in the middle of her cell. Five cocks were pointing at her, longer and thicker than any she had ever seen. Their balls too were swollen to a huge size. Their bodies were flattened against the wall, which could have provided for a funny appearance if it had not been so horrible. From the five fully erect cocks, Billy's was the smallest. It could have been around twenty centimetres long. The longest was definitely the cock of a tall, black slave, equipped with a member of around 25 centimetres. His cock was thin at the head and thick at the base. Another Black, a fat, bold man had the thickest cock the girl had ever seen. It was barely longer than Billy's but it was around seven centimetres in diameter. The fourth slave was Asian, and considering this fact, his impressive size with a bulging hammerhead must have definitely made him an adored man before he fell into the hands of Ashagen's slavers. The hooded man must have been proud of his indeed perfectly shaped member, but his cock now looked as the worst of all five. All five cocks and scrotal sacks were covered with small and large burn marks, with thousands spots caused by thick and thin needles. Open wounds and partially flayed chunks of skin were hanging from their surfaces. None of them had any single trace of hair. It had obviously been burnt or torn off as pus was profusely leaking from the countless wounds. The cock heads were all beyond reversible damages. Not a single spot of intact skin could be seen. Their pee holes were much wider than usual and were leaking blood, no doubt as the result of extreme insertions.

\"Are you ready, Kelly?\" Athis asked, and the blonde doll nodded.

\"Yeaaahhhhh... This is fucking hot! Let's get ready to rumble, Athis-luv!\" she screamed in excitement. Athis took his remote control and blinked at Aurelia.

\"I count on you, panther. Show me how much you regret your escape and how much you want to please me with extraordinary performance.\" He pushed a button, and Marilyn Manson's insane music filled the cell, reverberating between the glassy walls.

Deafened by the echoing noise, Aurelia lost a couple of seconds reflecting about her options. The very nature of her assigned task was deeply degrading. She would have to behave like the filthiest whore, sucking on any cock presented to her. Since her arrival to Ashagen, she had sucked more cocks than most whores during their whole working life, but it had always been forced onto her. Now, it was asked from her to perform willingly. Of course, she had not really a choice, but nevertheless, to the poor spy, having a cock forced down her mouth felt very much different than going down onto it by herself. The idea was filling her with disgust and revolt. And still, she knew she would do it. The only alternative was the most horrible death one could imagine.

She looked at the wreck that used to be Billy. From his earlier reaction, she was sure he was hiding the antidote capsules inside her cock. She would happily have torn his genitals from his body to get them but she did not dare to do it. If he was not hiding the antidote, this foolish act would make it impossible for her to make four cocks cum. It was safer to try if he was able to come first. Thus, she knelt down in front of her former torturer and engulfed his cock into her mouth. As she did so, she saw an ironic grin show on his face. It was indeed a strange twist of the fate that the very man who had been instrumental into Aurelia's descent into Hell was going to experience his last blow job from her very mouth. This was burning inside Aurelia's mind as she swallowed the rigid, turgid cock between her lips.

The taste was horrible. It was obvious that Billy's cock had not been washed since a long time, and that it had visited countless filthy vaginas and dirty rectums during the last weeks. The taste and smell almost made Aurelia vomiting. She resisted the urge though and continued her job. It was a strange feeling. The cock, although erect and as hard as a wooden stick, was not reacting to her ministrations. If anything, it was pain that she was causing him, as if she were unskilled. She had to work on it in a mechanical way, pushing her mouth as far along the cock as it would go before retreating. From the bulging of the blue veins on the shaft, she could feel that more blood was trapping itself inside the fleshy pole. She continued to move her head back and forth, pressing her lips along the blistered penis. As she worked, she was trying to detect whether any orgasm was blocked by the precious capsules. Suddenly, to her great surprise and demise, Billy's cock began to spurt its warm sperm right into Aurelia's mouth. She immediately pulled off, disgusted by the taste and the amount of cum that had already been forced into her mouth. As she was spitting it on the floor of the cell, the cock continued to burst load after load, which were landing onto her naked face and neck. Aurelia was disgusted but there was nothing she could do to protect herself from the viscous substance. She had not time to lose. As she turned to the next cock, Billy continued to spit more jism on her body.

Aurelia was at a loss. She had been certain that it was Billy who was hiding the capsules. Now she had lost precious time and she needed to act smartly if she were to get the antidote before the gas began to enter her cell. Looking at the four remaining cock, she decided to go for the thickest of them, the one belonging to the fat black slave. The 7-centimetre thickness was providing extra-protection to the capsules and Kelly had probably taken this into account when choosing where to hide it.

The black cock was really monstrous. It was so thick that Aurelia could not get it into her mouth. She had to use her hands instead. She took it with both hands and began to stroke it back and forth. It was the same sensation as with Billy: The only reaction she seemed to get was pain, but still the cock was swelling and increasing its girth even more. Its skin was covered with wounds and blisters and Aurelia felt sorry to rub her hands over them. But the slave was doomed anyway and it was only by torturing him that she could hope to survive herself.

After a moment, an extremely bright light began to flash, in rhythm with the crazy music, disorienting the unwilling whore. And suddenly she felt a powerful jolt of electricity spark around her feet and knees. The pain made her clench her hands hard, causing the black slave to scream even louder. Shocks continued to crack every 10 or 15 seconds, each time breaking her concentration. She kept stroking the thick black shaft, trying to forget what was happening around her. Eventually it spat its enormous content in long and strong jets that splashed over the auburn-haired girl's bosom. The smell was strong and Aurelie felt nausea twist her stomach. The whole atmosphere inside the cell was getting thick with strong sweat, unwashed cock stench and accumulated sperm odour. As with Billy, the Black continued to spurt his jism for more than 15 seconds, covering Aurelia's torso with its whitish threads.

By now, Aurelia no longer bothered. She had already turned herself towards the next man. She knew that the gas would soon begin to enter her cell and she badly needed to get the antidote before it started. She quickly looked around her at all the cocks aiming at her. Billy's was still erect and rock hard, as if ready to cum again. The only clue that he had already been exhausted was the thick thread of rosy sperm that was dribbling from its gaping urethra. The fat black man's cock was still jerking and spitting its fluid, although with diminishing vigour. Three cocks remained: the longest one, the Asian cock and the masked man's cock. It suddenly stroke Aurelia that it was probably that latter penis that was hiding the capsules. Kelly had probably hooded him to prevent him from revealing it.

Strengthened by her resolution, Aurelia engulfed the badly damaged cock in her mouth. The blinding light was still flashing and she kept being jolted by the electrical floor but she nevertheless worked fast on the penis. Somehow she was getting kind of used to that as she managed to bring it to orgasm in a shorter time than the two first. As the cum burst into her mouth, she moaned from frustration and disgust. Once again she had chosen the wrong man. The taste of his semen was atrocious. It tasted as if it had been rotting inside his testicles. Indeed, his balls were incredibly swollen and of a purple shade so dark that it almost looked black. On the verge of puking, Aurelia spat all the jism she had received on the floor, while the masked man continued to discharge its rotted sperm into her hair.

Suddenly, the blinding lights were switched off. Soon after a dense, opaque steam began to fill the cell. It was so hot that it felt as if Aurelia was going to be boiled alive. But what was even more scary was the greenish colour that could be seen in that steam. As soon as she noticed it, Aurelia held her breath. The poisoning had begun and it would now only be a question of time before she died in horrible spasms... unless she could find the antidote fast enough.

Two cocks remained. The 25-cm, black cock, and the well-endowed Asian one. It seemed logical to hide the capsules at the base of such a long cock but Aurelia was not sure any more about her logics. Or rather, it seemed that Kelly had been anticipating her logical deductions and acted in consequence. Therefore, Aurelia decided to go for the Asian cock.

As soon as she opened her mouth to swallow his shaft, steamy, toxic air entered her lungs, and a short moment later she felt cramps building inside her muscles. The temperature inside the cell was so hot that it was almost impossible to breathe. She was taking in the boiling air in short, gasping pants, each of which brought more poison into her circulatory system. After the horrible cock she had just been sucking, the unwashed Asian penis almost tasted good. Spurred by anguish, Aurelia was working fast, but her concentration was perturbed by the unbearable heat and by the growing pain in her limbs. Her mouth was beginning to tire and ache as well. She was not trained for this kind of exercise and it was beginning to show. Still she continued to work on the cock, trying to stay intent on any sign that it was cumming but prevented to ejaculate. When it did, filling her mouth with its white filth, she was both surprised and angry. Once again she had chosen the wrong cock and she was going to pay the price.

As if to respond to her desperate thoughts, just as she was pulling off and getting her face all sticky with new sperm, she felt a jolt of electricity course through her legs, causing incredible pain. She braced herself, trying not to fall and waiting for it to stop, but after two painful seconds, it was obvious the current would not be switched off. She began to panic. With a scream, she got on her feet and climbed on the T-shaped rail hanging from the ceiling. It was not electrified and as soon as her feet left the floor, the intense pain stopped. As she stabilised herself on the rail, she refocused herself. The hot steam had ceased to be poured into the cell, leaving her drenched in sweat and red like a lobster. The cramps in her limbs were getting fiercer, feeling as if acid was flowing in her veins instead of blood. The toxic gas was rapidly progressing in her body. Breathing was getting slightly difficult and she could feel a disagreeable tingling inside her bowels as their muscles were too attacked by the green toxin.

Only once cock remained. The longest one. She only had to tear it from its owner to recover the precious antidote. With her sharp claws, it would not have been too difficult but now she had to do it from the rail and this was much more tricky. Nevertheless, putting all thoughts of pity to the back of her mind, she hooked her knees behind the pole she was hanging from and, holding herself with her left hand, she bent over, reaching for the black dick with her free right arm. She could not help but notice the horror-stricken expression painted on the face of the black slave. She grabbed the wood-hard black pole of flesh an began to pull on it. It stretched a little. She could feel it throb in her firm hand. On the other side of the glass wall, the black slave was screaming in pain and terror, although not one sound passed over to Aurelia. She yanked harder but the penis was too firmly attached to the man's pubis. The secret agent realised she would have to get dirty.

Just as she was about to reach farther, her sharp nails directed at the thick base of the cock, a violent jolt of electricity coursed the rail and made Aurelia scream from the pain. All her limbs were suddenly and brutally forced to contract. She lost her balance and crashed heavily on the floor. Her limbs were still knotted with cramps and were trembling from the shock they hare received. Moreover, the green toxin was doing its work in her muscles and every move was a torture. Her bowels were twisting inside her, causing violent bout of nausea. As she was laying on the metal floor, trying to recover some strength, an icy stream of air began to flow from small holes set in the ground. She shivered. Goose bumps appeared on her skin while a white crust of ice was spreading around the air holes.

Aurelia shook herself and painfully got back on her knees. She was trembling, her teeth where clattering violently and her skin was turning blue. In a matter of second the atmosphere in the cell had changed from rain forest to polar climate. She could not move her knees any more. The ice had stuck them to the floor. By chance, the cell was narrow enough that no part of it was out of her reach, and in particular the black cock was still there, rigid, turgid and goose-bumped. She grabbed it with both hands and plunged her claws around its base. Blood began to flow, immediately turning to red ice as it touched the wall and the floor. Aurelia continued to dig and tear until the howling man's crotch was but a bloody pulp, his manhood laying on the floor, congealed. And there, next to it, the trembling Agent saw a narrow rod of metal, similar to some thick roller-pen cartridge.

Her eyes were aching from the cold. Her eyelids were half stuck with ice. Her nausea was now so strong she could barely stand on her knees. Just as she was about to seize the long-coveted object, her stomach was twisted in violent convulsion. Uncontrollably, she vomited all the sperm she had swallowed. She was holding her contorting belly with both hands, unable to stop puking bile and jism. Seconds later, it was the turn of her intestines to rebel and a brownish liquid burst out of her anus. For long second she remained there, prostrated, kneeling in a tight ball of pain, emptying her body through both extremities.

For a moment she thought that would never stop, that she would continue to puke and shit until her body was changed into an empty envelope, that she would die in a miserable and inhumanly painful way. However, after many spasmodic throws had shaken her helpless body, a temporary relief arrived. She could feel another bout growing fast inside her, but for a moment she could control again her trembling limbs. Frantically, she grasped the precious tube and broke it in two. The antidote capsules slid into her shaking palm. Immediately she swallowed them, hoping they would made their effect before her next eruption of vomit.

Miraculously, their effect was almost instantaneous. In mere seconds she was feeling better. At the same time, the icy stream was replaced with warm air and the green toxin was purged out of the cell. As warmth came back, so did the stench coming from her own dejections and from the large pool of sperm and vomit.

Athis and Kelly were cruelly cheering at all the misery the girl had just experienced, not to mention to the gurgling moan of the black man whose cock had been torn from his groin. Kelly acted rapidly; with a kind of screw driver she detached the suction cups holding the man against the cylinder and the poor black slid to the floor immediately. His red blood was spurting in short jets out of his groin from the wound that used to be his cock. Without hesitation, Kelly applied a red hot soldering iron onto the wound, making the man scream in a rather girlish voice. Smoke rose from the brand, the smell of burning flesh leaked inside Aurelia's cell through the blood-splattered hole. The man was screaming and screaming as the wicked woman cauterized the wound with skilled efficiency, completely stopping the blood loss in less than 30 seconds. The other male slaves, pale-face, were watching the cruel act, knowing, that next time it could happen to them. The black's blood had splattered all over Kelly's arm and even on her face. The girl was smiling evilly when she winked at Athis.

\"Even if he has lost his manhood, he still has an ass to use, so I usually try to keep even wrecked meat like this. It might be useful later.\"she said easily. Surprisingly, the black man did not black out. The drugs circulating in his body to keep his former cock hard like rock also worked as a general stimulant. Kelly yanked the cockless man onto his wobbling feet and released the others as well. Then she leashed them together in a coffle as they had arrived. The bloody-faced Kelly then stepped to Athis.

\"It was nice! your girl is very tough indeed, I can hardly wait to welcome her again in the Arena. We are going to have fun, I promise.\" She chuckled and moved to kiss Athis's face but the man just turned his face away.

\"Kelly, you are a mess, you know that, don't you? Spare your kiss for the next time we meet. Thanks for your time and help, see you soon again.\" the Ninja said. He opened the door for Kelly and her weird caravan. The blonde girl turned up her nose a bit, but finally she stepped out the door returning him his smile.

\"Ciao, Athis, if you would arrange more trainings like this, I could come more often. Think about it\" she said before leaving. Athis closed his basement's door with a loud bang. Slowly he walked back to Aurelia's cell and looked at her.

Chapter XXVI - Fight training

\"Now you must feel tired but because of your escape we have already lost a couple of days and we are running out of time. My dear panther, I need you to be in perfect condition, which requires some additional training before we stop for today. You deserve it, but believe me, you will be grateful later that I didn't let you become a lazy slut.\" Athis said as he started to open the small holes around the cylinder and placed a strange device into every opening. From Aurelia's point of view they seemed to be semi-shperes completely fitting into the hole. They were made from some kind of shiny metal with a rough surface. Outside, Athis closed small clamps that kept the small devices in place. He inserted one device into every hole starting with the highest holes until all of them had been opened and plugged. Altogether 30 semi-spheres were protruding inside the cell.

\"These are just sensors, nothing special. They are connected together by the computer that controls the Sweater Cell. their function is double. First, they give light signals with a flash, or rather a short lightning like this...\" He pushed a button, and one of the devices at shoulder level sprung alive, emitting a harsh red light. The whole rough surface functioned like a tiny reflector for about half-second. As soon as its light faded away another set alight at ankle level, flashing in a green light.

\"Their second function is to act as sensors. They sense if they are hit with the right force. You don't need to worry: you can't damage them, and no matter what you are doing, if you hit them hard enough - fist, foot or even using your forehead - they will transfer the information to the computer. As I said this is really training time, and this is by far the best training machine I have ever met. The sensors give you flashing signals, and you have normally from half to two seconds to hit them right after they start to light. The red is the most difficult, only half second. The yellow colour means you have one second, green gives you one and a half and finally blue gives you two. Of course the flashing of the sensors is completely unpredictable, you are going to offer hell of a show of your martial art skills, I promise that.\"

\"The question you might have is what will happen if you don't hit them in time? That is easy, every missed hit means the temperature of the cell increases. Not too much, in average it is around one quarter of a degree, so actually you must miss a lot before getting really hot. The Sweater Cell is also functioning as an oven. Under your feet the heating tubes can warm up the air and control the temperature very precisely. This time your oxygen supply will not be limited. A hard-working body needs the precious fuel and I want you to work really hard. So no need to fear suffocating. On the other hand, the temperature of the air around you is something that sooner or later will heavily affect you, so I would suggest to fight as hard as you can.\"

\"There is one more important thing I should mention: This time you have no goal to achieve, but to fight. If I'm satisfied with your efforts I won't let you die, But if you disappoint me I'll let you roast in this oven. I hope you are ready, because the fun begins.\"

He smiled coldly as the first sensor flashed a blue light. The cell - again - was filled with the loud noise of a fast song, electric rhythm, sending a fresh injection of adrenalin into the girl's body. Aurelia was still a little puzzled but she did not lose time and immediately kicked the blue light. She used the remaining of the two seconds to sort her mind and get herself into the right mindset. A half-second was quite a long time for a fighter like her and she knew she would have no problem hitting all the targets in time. The main question was how long she could keep the rhythm. As she reflected upon this, a red light switched on on her right and she immediately punched it with her right fist. There was a one-second pause and she spotted a yellow light behind her. She spun on her heels and banged her left elbow right in the middle of the sensor.

Things continued like that with lights flashing from all directions. Aurelia kept touching them with precision, always using the part of her body that was the closest to the target, saving her energy to the maximum. Her moves were a mix of grace and power, extremely accurate. Her face remained closed, focused on her task. Her eyes moved rapidly, trying to spot the new lights as soon as they switched on.

Four minutes passed. She had worked a nice sheen of perspiration on her skin. She had already delivered more than 50 surgically precise hits and she was beginning to feel the first tingles of tiredness. A normal fight never lasted so long without any pause. Usually, both opponents needed to breathe, even during a regular fight. Here, she was fighting a machine, and it did not leave her no respite. She had to move and stay alert constantly. Inevitably, she was bound to fail, sooner or later. And there, nearly five minutes after the beginning of the session, it happened. She had just punched a couple of yellow sensors in front of her. A red one flashed behind her, close to the floor. She kicked it but just a fraction of second too late. A violent flash notified her of her failure and the routine continued.

Aurelia continued to fight as if nothing has happened. Two minutes later, at the end of a long series of red sensors, she failed again. At this point, the increase in temperature could not really be noticed, in particular as she was already sweating from her exertion. One minute later, she failed again. She was beginning to feel the tiredness and her moves were sometimes not as fast as they used to be. It was particularly hard to touch in time the red lights that were behind her and in awkward positions. Quickly after her third mistake, she failed three more in quick succession. She whipped the sweat from her eyes and tried hard to refocus.

After ten minutes of intense exercise, the secret Agent was no longer the infallible fighter she was at the beginning. Whenever lights came in too short succession, she was sure to miss one. The temperature was beginning to rise. She was already sweating like a fountain and she kept throwing droplets of perspirations around her as she fought desperately her relentless opponent. She was now openly panting. Her skin was glistening and her long hair was matted to her face and shoulders.

As her limbs tired, the rate of her errors increased. Her movements were definitely slower. Even her accuracy was beginning to topple and sometimes she failed not because her kick arrived too late but because it was poorly aimed. Her lungs were now burning from exhaustion. The temperature had passed above 32°C and the sweat was no longer able to refresh her. It was merely accumulating on her skin and dripping on the floor. She was slowly driven mad by the loud noise and the brutal flashes.

As time passed, Aurélie kept fighting, even though she was now missing more often than she was succeeding. Her limbs were beginning to ache and moving them was getting more difficult. Her accuracy had dropped dramatically. As the temperature increased, breathing was getting more difficult as well and she was panting painfully. Sweat was rolling down her cramped body in thick rivulets, burning her eyes in the process. The cell was slowly turning into a sauna, and then into an oven.

After 30 minutes of endless and pointless fighting, the Agent had no longer the strength to lift her arms. She was pressing the sensors by thrusting her body against them, leaving wide prints of her sweat-soaked body on the glassy walls. Most of the time she was failing to activate them and thus the temperature kept growing. When it reached 100°C, she was unable to move. She was resting against a wall, trying to breathe the super-hot air. Her body was slowly over-heating. It could no longer freshen itself by sweating and it was only a matter of time before the delicate biochemical reactions inside her cells would stop. For now, at 120°C, she felt as is she had a strong fever. She could not get her mind to function properly. After some time, she collapsed on the floor, unable to stand. Sitting against a wall, she was still trying to press those sensors that flashed close-by. Mostly to no avail. Ultimately, she lost consciousness and fell into a heap on the floor of the cell.

The Ninja was watching the girl's desperate fight against the flashing lights with constant attention, and even if his stone-mask face did not show any emotion, the man was deeply impressed. Impressed and scared at the same time. The one and only fight he had had against Aurelia had ended with her victory, and without his dirty trick with the poison capsule in his teeth, the girl would have killed him. As he watched the woman't extremely harmonized movements of pure martial art, the unbelievably smooth attacks, the flashing blows, as the nude body was spinning around like a rapid carousel, he finally realized and completely understood that Aurelia was not simply a well-trained killer. She was the best fighter he had ever seen in his life, and had to admit to himself, that face to face, in fair circumstances, he would never hold the slightest chance to defeat the girl. Aurelia's body was a weapon. She was the materalized spirit of all Amazons ever singed in legends, and not even a skilled assasin like himself could challenge her. For his luck, it was not needed at all. The woman's skills would bring success to her in the Arena's against other slaves. That was quite a relaxing thought indeed.

When she finally lost her battle against the heat and collapsed on the floor, the man switched off the Sweater Pit's training mode, let the computer fill the cell with oxygen and set normal temperature about 23 degrees. Finally he turned around and left the room, switching off all the lights.

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