{"loaderData":{"4":{"story":{"id":"41a6bf85-4df3-40fa-9da3-b6d4e683ae55","seriesId":"2ccc1671-e286-4b70-ae2a-1035519cd799","seriesName":"Infiltrating Ashagen, the land of ultimate torture","currentUserId":"00000000-0000-0000-0000-000000000000","added":"2022-02-15T12:52:07.285Z","title":"Ashagen-03: Cruel Games","slug":"ashagen-03-cruel-games","shortId":"qEkRzgnA","authorNote":null,"disclaimer":null,"type":"Novella","paidUrl":null,"synopsis":"Chapter X – KGB nostalgia\nChapter XI - In the stables of the Painbringer Arena\nChapter XII – The “Heavy Feet” race\nChapter XIII – Ayala's punishment\nChapter XIV - The dinner\nChapter XV - The hospital","partCount":1,"parts":[{"partId":"844f8a08-b9a9-45af-8531-a798465a30f6","title":null,"summary":"Chapter X – KGB nostalgiaAuthors: Noemi Salvadge & Aurelie CatenaEnglish corrected by Scarab and","wordCount":47369,"readTime":237,"number":1,"state":"Published"}],"currentPart":1,"contentTitle":"Chapter 1","content":"

Chapter X – KGB nostalgia

Authors: Noemi Salvadge & Aurelie Catena

English corrected by Scarab and JP

Authors' emails: Noya2929 [at] gmail [dot] com), Aurelie [dot] Catena[at] gmail [dot] com

Tags:M/f, M/f+, F/f, F/f+, interracial, modification, snuff, Tit Torture, feet, slavery, bondage, real, torture, nc, Extreme

Aurelia's awakening happened to be very harsh. Ice-cold water was splashed over her face, one... two... three buckets. She coughed and fought for air for several long seconds. Since her first blackout in Trixie's Bar, Aurelia had experienced several rude awakenings from a string of dreamless comas, but the most recent one always felt the worst. She tried to wipe the chilling water from her eyes but her hands were locked in place and she soon realized that her neck was also immobilized. She shook her head, spraying water all around, but some naughty, wet lock of hair stuck to her face and she had to peek through a dense curtain of red hair.

She was in a dim, square room. The roof above her head rested on short poles protruding from the top of the wall; sunshine filtered through the hatches. The main structure was made of grey stone, but almost everything else inside the room was shining with a harsh metallic light. She was locked in the middle of the room, and high above her head, a plastic pipe dangled free; the water must have come from it. She was placed in some kind of stocks, about one and a half metres high, carved out of a vertical metal slab, 10 centimetres wide. Her neck was locked into a tight hole about one metre above the floor. As she raised her head to look around, the thin metal circle cut into her neck from behind, and into her larynx from beneath. Her wrists were locked in similar but much smaller holes on both sides of her head at the same height. She felt that the rest of her body, her chest, waist and legs were totally free. While she had been unconscious, her legs had been creased under her body and her knees were aching from the touch of the cold, stone floor. In front of her face three identical stocks stood, forming a rhombus, although the sides of the stocks were not touching; there was approximately one metre between the slabs. All three stocks were occupied. Three slaves were locked in them, facing each other, with their hands immobilized at the sides of their heads.

All stocks had several unused holes. There were three vertically stacked neck holes, and all the prisoners occupied the highest ones. On both sides of the neck holes, two vertical lines of three smaller holes had been cut into the stocks forming a total of five lines, encompassing a total of fifteen holes, three for necks and twelve more for the limbs. It was easy to figure out the numerous possible postures in which a human body could be locked into these stocks. All the holes seemed to be made of some cold, metallic material. They could toggle between open and closed. Any limb or neck could be inserted into any open position, because each hole had an adjustable inner circle that could be expanded or contracted as needed. Adjacent to every hole was a small keyhole, which controlled its open state. Without the proper key it was almost impossible to pick the locks and open the holes. Aurelia recognized this type of stocks; she had already seen how they imprisoned people. The technology had been invented and used by the KGB, the former Soviet Intelligence Agency.

This sight brought back a painful memory to the young spy. She had already been trapped in such a contraption. It had been during one her first missions, when she was still rash and inexperienced. She was obligated to collaborate with a Ukrainian secret agent named Vlad. He was the haughtiest, the most arrogant person she had ever met. He had invited her to a restaurant to celebrate the success of their most recent mission. After two weeks of being with him almost continuously on the field, Aurelia already had more than enough of his condescension but political correctness and State interests did not permit her to turn the invitation down.

There were a couple of other Ukrainian agents at this dinner which proved even more boring than she had feared. They were all former members of the KGB and they kept gloating about the good old times and about the superiority of the Soviet intelligence agency over the rest of the world. By turns, they each recounted missions where they had successfully extracted crucial information from Western countries. Each success story was saluted with a full glass of Vodka. Aurelia did not like to drink alcohol. She did not appreciate the loss of control or blunting her razor-sharp skills. She had tried to refuse the drinks but she was met with such a dense barrage of misogynous remarks and derogatory comments that she was forced to comply; her pride demanded that she prove these arrogant men that she could hold alcohol better than them. Indeed, her organs had been trained to resist the effects of alcohol, but still they were all taller than her and easily weighed twice what she did. Out-drinking them would be almost impossible and she could only hope to hold her liquor as well as them.

At the end of the dinner, they were all quite drunk. Aurelia was bearing the Ukrainians’ bragging with increasing difficulty. The Vodka was progressively weakening her self-control. Later, as they were chatting over coffee, Vlad asserted that the KGB’s prisons had been the most secure in the world. Aurelia, who was beginning to get exasperated, mocked them and replied that any child would have been able to escape from those prisons. The argument had escalated and if the ex-Soviets (Ed. note: Ukrainians are distinctly NOT Russians; in the 1930's, the Ukraine resisted Soviet rule and the Soviets responded by creating a famine in the Ukraine. This is ironic because the Ukraine was known for its rich soil.) had not been stopped by the vestigal remnants of gentlemanly behaviour vis-à-vis a woman, a fight would have erupted. As it was, the Ukrainians merely invited Aurelia to see one of the souvenirs they had kept from their KGB period: a set of steel stocks.

Half an hour later, they were all gathered in the basement of the Ukrainian Foreign Intelligence Service, the Sluzhba zovnishn’oyi rozvidky Ukrayiny or SZRU, headquarters at 33 Volodymyr Street, Kiev. It was a small, dirty room where unused furniture was stored. In one corner stood a rusty apparatus that was in many respects similar to the one Aurelia was currently locked in. As Aurelia, by now completely upset, had spoken with contempt of the venerable device, Vlad challenged her to try and escape from it. Under normal conditions, Aurelia would have refused, but the alcohol was making her overconfident. She decided to teach the arrogant Ukrainians a lesson.

Using a rusty key, Vlad opened the three upper holes of the steel stocks, and invited Aurelia to get in. As she was kneeling to push her head through the neck hole, he stopped her and firmly motioned her to turn her back to the stocks, arch her body backwards and pass her head through the neck hole while facing the ceiling. As she bent backwards, her white shirt was pulled out of the hem of her black leather skirt and her belly button appeared on her flat, muscular belly. One turn of the key and Aurelia felt the hole tightening around her neck, locking her inside. Then Vlad and one of his colleagues pushed her hands through the corresponding holes on both side of her neck and locked them too. Aurelia was now in quite a difficult position, kneeling on the concrete floor with her back arched and her torso and face turned upwards.

This posture soon got even more difficult as they pulled on her feet, spreading her legs and passing them through the lower set of small holes. They first had to remove her high-heeled shoes, leaving her feet naked. Second later, she felt the stocks tightening around her ankles with a dreadful click. Her toes barely brushed the floor now, leaving most of her weight supported by her knees. The situation was worsened by the fact that she was wearing a rather narrow black-leather skirt which left her knees bare against the cold concrete floor. Moreover, as her thighs were spread wide, the skirt tended to slide up her legs, centimetre by centimetre, each time she moved.

The situation’s intensity level had suddenly increased. The three inebriated Ukrainian agents were now looking at Aurelia with an entirely different point of view. She was not a colleague anymore. Locked in the KGB stocks, she was now nothing but a piece of meat begging to be abused. And a beautiful piece of meat, at that. Her arched body showcased all the best features of the feminine anatomy. Her proud, firm breasts were pushing against the front of her white skirt, pulling on the buttons, threatening to make them snap off. Her belly was visible from the hem of her thong, which pointed its lacework just above her skirt, to her lower ribs, which protruded under her trussed up shirt . Her strong, curvaceous legs were exposed up to the middle of her thighs; Aurelia felt the change and shivered inwardly. Still she was too proud to ask for release and she just said, “Alright, guys. Now, leave me here and do not come back before one hour. Chances are I will join you in your coffee room long before that.”

“One hour? Certainly not,” answered Vlad, who was the most lucid of the three men. “Where is the challenge in staying only one hour in this tool? Our prisoners used to stay locked in for days on end. And we do not want to wait, bored in those empty offices. My friends and I are going to continue the party. We’ll go to the Vodka bars and then maybe to the whores. Then we’ll go to sleep. Only then will we come back here.”

Aurelia was going to protest when he continued: “That should not be a problem for you anyway. You said you would free yourself in less than one hour. You have my cell-phone number. Just call me when you are free and we’ll come back and get you… If we are still sober enough, of course…”

Aurelia bit her lips. There was little she could propose without losing face and admitting she was not sure she could free herself. And yet unsure she was. She had not expected to be locked in such a strict position, with even her feet immobilised. The key holes were way out of reach of her fingers. Her hands and her feet were actually far away from anything she could grab. The device was rusty but looked sturdy enough to resist her strongest efforts. She would have to complete a more detailed exploration to find whether there was a weak point or not.

The three men were looking at her plight with knowing grins. They seemed unsure whether they should stay or go. Aurelia felt that if they decided to stay, it would not be good for her. The ambiance was getting more electric every minute that passed.

“Well, then… I guess I am all set. Leave me and I'll see you later,” she told them, speaking in a firm, authoritative voice.

“As you wish, Baby. There is just one problem I have to solve. I want to make sure we meet again before you leave for the States. And I believe I know how we can do that…” Vlad pursued. He took Aurelia’s purse, which she had placed on the top of a nearby crate, and fumbled into it. He found her cell-phone and placed it on the crate. “Here, I leave your phone here so that you can call me. As for your purse, I’m going to take it with me, along with your ID, your room card, your money and your car keys”.

“And your shoes!” added Mikhail, one of his acolytes, brandishing Aurelia’s high-heels.

Aurelia glared at them. “That’s not fair! If you get too drunk to come back here when I call you, I’ll be stuck here for who knows how long!”

“Then I suggest you don’t lose a minute to free yourself” mocked Vlad. “If you are fast enough, we could enjoy a few more glasses of Vodka together!”

“And be glad we don’t take your skirt with us as well. This is very contrary to the rules to leave a stocks prisoner with her clothes on,” said Mikhail with a greedy stare at Aurelia’s curvaceous shapes. \"Shouldn't we remove all her clothes as well? The test would be more realistic if she would feel the real situation of prisoners locked in our masterpiece,\" he continued after a moment of reflection. He was grinning like an idiot, lurching from the extreme amount of the finest vodka.

\"Don't be such a cur, man!\" Vlad laughed while looking deep into Aurelia's eyes. \"We're just playing with a colleague of ours, we don't really want to use the full range of our long standing techniques.\" he replied.

\"But she is a trained agent, said to be one of the best! I wonder if she isn’t hiding some tricky tools somewhere in her clothes! Such advantage wouldn't be fair against us, as we're testing the REAL utility of the stocks\" Mikhail replied while almost openly rubbing his already bulging member under his trousers.

\"Fuck, there is truth in what you say!\" Vlad smiled and winked at the girl. \"I hope you don't mind if we remove your dress, my American friend! Just for the sake of fair-play!\" Vlad asked Aurelia while hinting to his fellows. The girl was not given any chance to answer or refuse the humiliating request. Mikhail and the third muscular Ukrainian jumped on her and with stunning effectiveness started to undress the half-drunk agent. Obviously it was not their first time. Within ten seconds she found herself naked except for her underwear. The agents did not tear her clothes but unbuttoned and unfastened every accessory. When necessary, one of them held a limb, while the other opened the corresponding hole, removed a piece of cloth and relocked it. Aurelia was given no chance to struggle out, although she protested and fought her best to escape this humiliation. She was soon left in her black-lace thong and bra. Her strong body left almost nothing to the imagination of the inebriated minds of the former KGB spies. Her muscles were bulging as she tried to pull her limbs from the stocks' tight embrace, involuntarily adding to the show. The most humiliating aspect was perhaps that with her head locked behind the upper panel, she could not see the faces of her colleagues on the other side. The men were taking advantage of this to leer shamelessly at her fantastically displayed squirming body. All the time, Aurelia was pleading and threatening them to get back her clothes.

\"Please, don't look so ashamed. We're colleagues after all and you asked for this, remember?\" Vlad declined Aurelia's protests menacingly. \"We have all been trained alongside female agents and we have seen them in even more... displayed situations,\" he said and blinked again with an exultant smile. \"We will leave your clothes in the coffee room, so that, once you are free, you can just go there and dress again to wait for our return...\" he smiled. \"It's time to go. I see that Mikhail is already ready to visit the whores...\" he said, peering at his acolyte whose sexual fever was now quite obvious.

\"But we should be fair to her!\" Mikhail started again. \"Alone in this basement, stocked there, chilled from the lack of heating... she might lose her motivation too early and give up her escape attempts! We should help her somehow not to bring discredit upon her Agency...\" he said, almost trembling from excitement. During the whole mission, he had been fantasizing about the proud and beautiful Aurelia. Never, even in his most shameless fantasies, had he imagined he could get his hands on her so directly.

\"What do you suggest then?\" Vlad asked.

\"We should use the timer-roaster. On low setting of course, we're just testing and playing...\" the man replied.

\"Accepted! After depriving her of any extra-help she might have had we can be such gentlemen!\" Vlad nodded wildly and Mikhail ran out of the cell.

“What’s that, now? You are not seriously planning to roast me alive? Do not do anything your government could regret. The CIA is not used to leaving its agents molested without vengeance,” she threatened, sensing that the situation was now on the verge of switching to a horror story.

\"Oh, it's a very clever little bit of machinery. Let's call it a programmable hot-plate. We can set up times for heating and cooling, the duration of these periods, and of course, the temperature. But you don't need to worry; it will just help you to do your very best while fighting against the stocks. We won’t let it do any permanent harm,\" Vlad grinned.

Mikhail returned with two black plates, about 50 centimetres in diameter. Mikhail squatted behind the girl and slid the device under her left toes. The surface of the plate was ice-cold as it was made of metal and had been stored in a nearby room. Mikhail pushed a button and the plate shook as it anchored into the cement floor. He then placed the second plate under her right foot in the same way.

Aurelia curled her feet away from the cold touch of the plate while contorting her head to try and see her feet. In her cruelly arched position, this was impossible though and she could not see what the Ukrainian was doing. She could just feel the coldness radiating from the device. “Mikhail! Don’t do that! Not so close! You are going to roast my soles!” she ordered in the firmest tone she could muster.

\"No, no... hahaha!\" Vlad replied. He was having the greatest fun of his life. \"We won't let this precious thing hurt you too much, I promise you won't suffer any permanent damage! Tonight it's more a toy than a real torture instrument\" he said while opening a small console on the side of the plate. He started to type something into the computerized control panel. \"There will be times when the heat will be... quite uncomfortable. Luckily you have the freedom to bend your pretty feet back and avoid touching the surface, though some radiated heat will cause you some discomfort even then!\" He finished the programming and stepped back.

\"The first wave of heat will arrive around the end of the first hour...” Vlad said. “You should be free since a long time, if your gloating is true. So we even give you some indication of how much time has passed. Have a nice escaping time, we really need to leave 'cause Mikhail won't be able to keep his rod longer in his trousers!\" Vlad laughed and headed towards the door.

“This is completely crazy!” Aurelia protested frantically as she saw the men withdrawing for real. Up to now she had believed to a bad joke. “You can’t leave me here like this! I will make a report! Let me go now or I promise you that you will all be in deep shit before tomorrow evening!”

Vlad halted and turned his head back. \"Three of us plus the bartender have heard that this whole test was your idea, my precious colleague! By the way, the security camera has recorded that you willingly put yourself into the stocks” he said, pointing at a tiny camera fixed in a corner of the room. “You asked for it, so please cease your childish threats and focus on our game. See you upstairs!\" he blinked at the girl again and all men left the room, taking her clothes and purse with them, only leaving her cell phone in the room.

Aurelia pulled frantically on her muscular limbs while screaming and cursing to the top of her lungs as they closed the door. She kept screaming insults, threats and begins for several minutes, her noise echoing through the concrete room. Suddenly, she heard the door opening and paces walking in. She smiled and ceased screaming. This was just a joke, finally. Those Ukrainians had really a strange sense of humour.

But her wide smile quickly melted down to a mask of fear and anger as she saw Mikhail approaching from her face, holding a big, black, rubber ball gag. “Don’t make so much noise. You might attract unwanted attention. You don’t want our colleagues to find you here tomorrow when they arrive to work, do you?” the mountain of muscles said, swinging the gag by its steel, articulated strap above Aurelia’s face. “This should keep you quiet.”

With these words, and despite Aurelia’s protests, he pushed the ball hard against the girl’s lips, crushing them against her teeth until she was forced to open her mouth. He pushed harder, spreading her mouth wide. The ball tightened a little bit and suddenly popped past her teeth and into her mouth. The ball was so large that Aurelia could not have pushed it out without the help of her hands. For good measure, the giant tightened the steel strap behind her neck and locked it with a tiny padlock.

“I’m sorry. I had no time to look for a woman’s gag. I’m afraid this one is a bit too large. But after all, you have so wide a mouth it shouldn’t be a problem!” he said, before exploding in a burst of laugh at his own joke. “I’ll keep the key to your gag, to be sure you don’t say anything you might regret before we discuss things tomorrow.”

Aurelia was glaring at him over the huge black gag that was stretching her jaws so wide apart.

“Now, my dear, be quiet and call us soon!” he added. He made a move to leave and then stopped short. He looked towards the door, then around him, with a culprit look on her face. He then quickly bent over the trapped girl, grabbed her breasts in his huge paws and fondled them harshly through the bra while licking Aurelia’s skin all the way from her cleavage to her right eye, leaving a long smear of Vodka-imbued saliva. With a greedy blink at the poor girl, he hastily left the room and closed the door behind him.

Aurelia tried to protest and call him back, but the gag was very effective in muffling her voice and removing her ability to express herself. All she could utter were low wet grunts and humming. Mikhail’s last deeds had convinced her that the Ukrainians really intended to leave her here the whole night. Already, after maybe 15 minutes of being in the stocks, her spine was screaming to be unbent and knees and ankles sore from supporting most of her weight.

She twisted her heads several times, trying to assess her situation, to find a weak point in the evil device. All the keyholes where located on the other side of the panel, hopelessly out of reach of even the most long-fingered pianist. Her long, strengthened nails were of no use this time. Even with one of the tools hidden in her clothes she would have had no way of picking these locks in her current position. If at least her legs had been free, she could have used her incredibly agile and skilled toes to try something, but secured as they were, they were completely helpless.

From frustration, she bucked in the stocks, making them tremble. But they were deeply set in the floor and there was no way she could pull them out. At least not with her legs trapped in it too. The bastards really knew what they were doing when they had locked her.

After a few more bucks and thrashing, she had to admit she was trapped inescapably. She was in for the long night, and probably for the whole morning as well as she doubted the already drunk agents would wake up early after their night of feasting and sex. For her, the night promised to be a very long one. Already her jaws were on the verge of dislocation. Her spine seemed about to break. In spite of the coldness, her body was glistening with sweat as she fought her restraints and the pain. She clenched her eyes and her fists, letting out a long moan of pain and frustration. Why had she allowed them to go that far?

Suddenly, a click sounded close to her ears. At first she wondered what it was but soon she felt the heat against her toes, which she was resting on the electronically-controlled plate, reminded her of the device. The heat quickly climbed to an unbearable level and she had to curl her feet and toes up in the air to prevent her feet from being roasted. Even then, the heat was almost too high to bear. She curled and twisted her feet in all directions in order to present a different piece of skin to the red-hot roasters every few seconds. The temperature in the room quickly increased as well and she began to sweat even more than before.

Maybe ten minutes later the first cramps began to grip her feet. She screamed in her gag. She HAD to rest her feet! She would not be able to keep them curled like that for much longer. Now she understood what Vlad had been meaning when he told her that the plate would keep motivated. Strict as it was, her position caused a pain that, with time, would begin to fade as the nerves would fall asleep from lack of sufficient blood supply. In contrary, the pain caused by the heaters would just keep getting worse as it stroke already blistered skin.

Aurelia entered a new wave of frantic action, contorting madly, pulling and pushing on her trapped limbs, closing and spreading her thighs, shaking her head, clenching and unclenching her fists. All these efforts did not produce any more effect than before. She just increased the level of chaffing of the skin that was in contact with the rusty steel of the evil machine.

Just as she was about to drop her feet on the sizzling plates, a new click warned her that the first cycle had arrived to its end. She bit hard on her gag and forced her cramped feet to stay in the air a few more minutes, until the plate was tepid enough to let her rest her sore toes. The plate cooled down at a very slow pace so that when Aurelia could not keep her feet in the air any longer, her feet touched the still hot metal. Her toes and insteps were sore red, her skin was sweating profusely, the sweat evaporating in the searing heat seconds after they were excreted. A few small blisters appeared where her skin was thinnest; where her toes joined the feet, around the tiny curves. Her nail-beds also suffered first degree burns right under her toenails. Nothing permanent or severe damaged had been caused but her feet looked like roasted chickens. They were red and sore and the high the temperature had also wrinkled her generally smooth skin. She screamed into her gag when the soft pads of her toes finally touched the cooling plate. She felt new, small blisters bursting; the surface of the skin roasted while melted body fat and other tissue liquids formed new blisters around that area. Finally the heat cooled to a bearable level but her wounds, however light, continually radiated pain. Mikhail's idea turned to be a real nightmare.

The night passed slowly. In the artificial light, Aurelia had no way to see the time passing. Only the roasters cycles told her that seconds were actually elapsing, but as the periods were obviously random, they were of no use to help her measure the time. She was more and more exhausted. Her skin was dripping with sweat. She was panting. All her muscles were constantly knotted with painful cramps. More blisters had erupted on her toes and soles. She wondered how many days it would take before she could be able to wear shoes again.

She was hovering in a haze of pain when she finally heard footsteps approaching. She lifted her head, trying to see above the upper stocks panel and who would open the door. But, as she knew all too well, this was impossible. She could only see the half of the room that was on her side of the stocks. The footsteps approached. They were silent steps, almost inaudible. Whoever was entering into the cell was a skilled sneaker, although he sometimes lost his pacing and his soles squeaked on the floor. He was an alcoholised but well-trained sneaker.

Aurelia grunted through her painful gag, contorting her neck to see who was coming in. She felt so exhausted. Her feet were covered with blisters and seemed glowing red and radiating internal heat. She was hoping that her tormentors had come back and were going to free her. She felt like she could not bear this treatment one minute more. The girl felt fingers running along the curve of her belly, tickling her sweat covered flat abdomen.

\"How did you enjoy your stay, here?\" Vlad's voice said. \"We had a great time up there, we snuffed another three bottles and spread our seeds into two whores each. It was a long night and despite our superior training we got tired. You seem quite exhausted too, did you have a fun night too?\"

Unable to answer because of the gag, which the man had obviously forgotten and which he could not see, bent as he was on her gasping belly, she grunted some more and tried to mumble something. But the ball was so large that it pressed her tongue down, stretched her lips thin and prevented any coherent speaking.

Puzzled, Vlad straightened up and looked at her face. At the sight of the huge ball that was defacing Aurelia’s features, he grinned. “Oh, I see. For the gag too you wanted to tackle more than you can cope with!”

Aurelia glared at him and shook her head, trying to communicate how sore her jaws felt. Vlad smiled in response and bent over her. He fumbled under her hair for the gag strap buckle. “Oh, but it is padlocked?” he said, a cruel smile on her face.

Aurelia felt her heart sinking.

“A chance that Mikhail gave me the key before getting too drunk!” Vlad finally said, pulling the small key from his pocket. He unlocked the buckle but then he had to pull with all his strength as the ball would not come out. Eventually, it popped out and Aurelia produced a loud moan of mixed pain and relief. For about one minute she was unable to close her jaws.

“So, how was your night, Beauty?” he asked again, his fingers toying with her belly button.

“Awful!” Aurelia managed to say. “And the trick with the heater was way beyond the top! Look at my feet! I shall hardly be able to walk any more! You’ll pay for that! Now, let me go! This game has been too long by far!” Aurelia was furious and looked angrily at Vlad.

\"I have been waiting for your call all night long but in vain. It almost spoiled my pleasure! You disappointed me, Agent Aurelia! I thought you Americans weren't hectoring but it seems I have to change my opinion. You have lost. You were weak. You were incapable and as I smell you also roasted your own feet. Do you belong to those perverts who're into self-cannibalism?\"

“Stop joking now! You can’t imagine how painful this position is! Free me immediately or I can assure you that my embassy is going to break you like dry twigs!” answered the furious American.

\"Why should I release you? You look so good in this place! Have I told you earlier how much I love curved, stretched, sweating female bellies? That's some kind of fetish for me...\"

“You fucking bastard! I don’t pay a penny about your devious, nerdy fetishes! LET… ME… GO! Right now!” she barked while contorting weakly her cruelly arched body.

\"Come on! We're still playing! Because you lost the challenge you should offer something as a reward. Or maybe I should take whatever I want!\" Vlad said and peeked at Aurelia's face above the upper panel of the stocks. \"What about I take a few pictures? Just for my personal use of course, as you're such a secret, undercover agent I know how important it is to keep hidden your real identity... but a few well-done pictures on a \"B\" bondage site doesn't mean you would lose anything... They would never show your face. Well, not those I would upload on the site. As for me, I would keep a few nice pictures, just to make sure you don’t get too virulent about this affair when we release you. You don’t want to become the Internet queen of bondage, do you?\" he laughed and smiled.

Aurelia roared like a trapped panther and her muscles bulged fiercely as she contorted in the stocks. “You bastard! Stop this game immediately!” Aurelia went even more frantic and furious as Vlad pulled out his cell phone, equipped with a tiny camera. She swore and insulted him like never she had. Her fury was such that Vlad felt his assurance melting.

Suddenly there was a click. Aurelia’s face got pale and a mask of terror replaced her angry figure. The heating plates had just switched on again. Aurelia tried to lift her feet but her Achille’s tendons were much to weak and cramped by now. The pads of her feet barely left the quickly heating surface while her toes remained firmly stuck to it. Aurelia was beginning to panic. Even the still low heat was enough to make her feel as if her roasted feet were in the middle of a fire inferno.

“Ok! Ok!” she said hastily, her eyes wide open and panicked. “Take your pictures. But don’t take my face. And then set me free. But please, PLEASE! Switch those plates off!!!!!”

Vlad grinned contentedly but he did not switch off the plate. A bucket filled with stale water was standing nearby; he took it and poured some water onto the girl's tortured feet and the heating plate. The water was hissing loudly as it splashed over the plate, clouds of dense steam rose in the air. \"This might give you some more time, I really want these photos to look realistic and showing some true pain and desperation...\" he said and he started to take photos. Actually, he took hundreds of them. Being stocked in a highly unnatural position, after a long night of pain and suffering, immobilized and feeling the hellish heat under her already burnt feet, Aurelia had no chance to check whether Vlad really focused on her body and ignored her head and face. She had doubts about it, but there were nothing she could do. The mobile took photo after photo of the girl's body, from all possible angles.

The water soon evaporated and the heating of the plate went on non stop so Vlad - being a true gentleman - poured again some water on the plate, giving Aurelia some relief while leaving the threat alive. Another bunch of photos was taken until Vlad finally got bored of it.

\"Seems we're done. Now I'm switching off the plates... ouccchhh... they're fucking hot! God... what have you done to your feet, dear? They're almost unbearably hot too...\" he laughed while he shut off the device and even pulled them from under the girl's feet. \"Oh shit... you'll definitely need some days or weeks in a good hospital without jogging around, but hey, at first sight, no really severe damage occurred, only some pinkie reddening.\"

“Now, let me out! And I promise you will hear about this affair from your superiors. You will regret all your life what you have done in this cave....” threatened Aurelia.

\"Agent Aurelia! You forgot our little agreement. You shouldn't tell anything about all of this happening to your superiors. First of all, I can prove it was your idea and you did all this willingly. Secondly; I have lots of photos of your shapely, tied body in my phone, ready to be spread over the internet. In your position I would remain silent and stop this kind of behaviour. So, what do you say?\"

Aurelia was fuming but she was also all too much conscious that he was right. She was completely stuck and the mercy of these photos. She would have to try and recover them quickly. “Alright. You have won... Let me go now...” she answered while pretending a defeated face.

\"Nice. I'm leaving now and sending down the guys to release you. I've enjoyed your stay in our beautiful country. I hope you've felt the same. See you soon back; but never forget about how the old guys of KGB deal with things...\" Vlad said before leaving the room.

Moments later, Mikhail came down, holding the key to the stocks. “I’ve got here to free you. But first, I want to keep a souvenir of our... collaboration” he said in a hesitant voice. He slid his hand under Aurelia’s black thong and pulled hard, tearing it from the hips of the prisoner. He pressed it to her nose, sniffing the strong feminine scent it was imbedded with and then rolled it in a ball and shoved it in his pocket.

Unable to hide her well-trimmed pussy, Aurelia went berserk and poured insults on the Ukrainian spy. Seeing how furious she was, Mikhail, in his drunk state, preferred not take any chance with her. He unlocked Aurelia’s left wrist and dropped the key in her palm. “Your clothes and purse are upstairs. I bet that with the key you can free yourself now. See you!” he said while hurrying towards the door.

But even with the key it had proved not so easy to get free. She had to fumble with the key until she could find the key holes to her neck and right arm, and only then could she get some relief. She was so exhausted and wracked with pain that she could hardly move. But anger was fueling her. She scrambled on her knees to the coffee room. By chance she met nobody. She hastily put back on her clothes, except her panties. She also found that her shoes had disappeared. She could not have worn them anyway. Thus, it was barefoot that she drove back to her hotel. She had been longing to recover the compromising pictures but she was also realising that in her state, she stood no chance.

In the afternoon, when she checked her mail, she received one from Vlad containing all the pictures he had taken. Many of them showed her face and she was perfectly recognizable. He had also posted many faceless pictures on various porn sites. The connection with the pictures showing her face would be easy to do if he ever decided to publish them. Aurelia left Ukraine the next morning to never come back. Never did she hear of Vlad either. He had kept her secret well. Anyway, that experience had always remained as a cruel thorn in her flank since then.

Chapter XI - In the stables of the Painbringer Arena

Authors: Noemi Salvadge & Aurelie Catena

English corrected by JP

Authors' emails: Noya2929 [at] gmail [dot] com), Aurelie [dot] Catena[at] gmail [dot] com

Tags:M/f, M/f+, F/f, F/f+, interracial, modification, snuff, Tit Torture, feet, slavery, bondage, real, torture, nc, Extreme

Aurelia became discouraged when she realised she was locked in the same device. Her chances for an easy escape decreased dramatically. Still feeling dizzy she turned her attention to the other three girls locked in the room and facing her. All three of them were awake; Aurelia was the only one who had just come back from artificial sleep.

The other three slaves were all belonging to class two. Two of them were white, blonde girls and the third one a brown-haired, black woman. To Aurelia’s right, a surprisingly young, 18 or 19-year-old, long-haired girl was stocked. She was not a beauty, more of an average girl. She was clearly terrified, shaking in the stocks, her fingers were fluttering, the dim lights were dancing on her shiny French manicured nails. Her eyes were big and filled with fear, her makeup was ruined, and tears smeared her eye shadow so that she looked like a gothic girl. She also had bruises on her cheeks and around the corner of her mouth. The girl had obviously been beaten severely during the last few days. She also wore a strange tattoo above her left eye: her owner’s brand was a sketchy axe.

The black girl was facing Aurelia. She was much bigger and thicker than the other slaves. She had fat lips and a big, wide nose, although her skin wasn't as dark as true Africans. She looked like thousands of Afro-Americans living far from the land of their ancestors. The black girl was more battered than the skinny blonde. She had several teeth missing, both her cheeks were branded in the middle with two horrible scars forming the words 'cunt' and 'slut', defacing her. She wore uncountable rings embedded into her flesh. About ten rings were pierced through her lips, another dozen was hanging from her cheeks, around the ugly letters, she had no eyebrows but rows of small, shiny rings instead. Even her eyelids were ringed, carrying two rings each. The upper eyelid rings were stitched to rings of her eyebrows so that her eyes were forced to stay open. The septum of her nose was pierced by a long, thick steel rod, which protruded by 10 centimetres on each side. The rod sported a large ring at each end. It was somehow locked to her nose in the middle to prevent any sliding. It looked quite heavy and prone to swing at the least movement of her head. The brand next to her slavery sign was a figure of a staked body. She had very long, callused fingernails, and to Aurelia's true terror, the ring and index fingers of both hands were standing upwards at a completely unnatural angle, as if the fingers had been broken and the bones forced to heal in that ugly way. Her hands were hanging motionless like parched bunches of grapes. The black girl was drooling, her forever-open eyes were gazing fixedly at the dirty floor. The lower stock holes offered glimpses at her breasts. Those were unnaturally big, a if they had been stuffed with something to make them 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. Forks embedded on each side of her breasts prevented the spike to slide. Like the nose rod, this one too had large rings dangling from its ends.

To Aurelia's left another young Blondie was stocked. She had the prettiest face of her three 'roommates'. That girl was much alive, her dark eyes were scanning the room continuously, and although she was obviously terrified, she was making repeated attempts at pulling her head or wrists out of the stocks. Her long-nailed fingers clenched and unclenched; her hands were rotating as she tried everything. The slab was set deep in the floor and despite her vigorous shaking, the stocks remained in place without the slightest movement. Her efforts were clearly hopeless but she seemed very determined. She had the figure of a gallows pole carefully tattooed on her forehead. She also wore rings on her face: two for both lips. Layers of dried cum covered the area around her mouth and chin. Otherwise she looked unharmed. She was the one who realized Aurelia was awakening.

\"Huh... hello...\" she stopped with the futile movements and looked deep into Aurelia's eyes. \"I'd say welcome... but... forget it...\" she said in low voice. \"It seems our circle is complete.\"

Aurelia shook the cobwebs from her mind and looked at the girl. Her first reaction was one of disgust at the sight of the dried cum covering her face but she had to admit that her own state was probably looking even more dreadful with its load of glistening rings.

“Hello!” she answered. “What’s your name?” The rings set in her tongue and lips prevented her from speaking with her usual ease. She could not help from spitting and drooling as she spoke and she had a definite problem of pronunciation. This angered her.

\"My name is Joyce... I arrived here in Hell about two weeks ago. In front of me, this is Annette, seemingly the youngest participant. She is new to this fucking place... Ashagen... The poor Black woman is called Ayala. Actually that's all I could extract from her. She wasn't interested in talking with us.\" the blonde beauty said and broke into a sad, bitter smile. \"Who are you?\"

“My name is Aurelia and I’m coming from the United States. I am, or rather I was, a dancer. I was kidnapped just as I was going to begin a new job. The man who bought me wants me to compete in races. I believe that’s what we are waiting for here? How long have you been in Ashagen?”

\"As I told you I've arrived about two weeks ago, from Australia. I guess it was two weeks, I spent a lot of time in dark basements, so time means almost nothing to me. I was a teacher in a private school. One of my student's father... that bastard... fell in love with me, at least that was what he said. So he had me kidnapped and taken here... now I'm his sex slave... I was his sex slave. He got bored of me, he said. He made me enter a race in the arena a couple of days ago... my God...\" the girl burst into tears.

The look of fear on Joyce’s face was so horrible that Aurelia felt her heart contracting. “Was it that terrible? Did you win or lose?” she asked, eager to learn more about these races.

\"They... (sobbing)... made me to crawl on my knees through waist-high excrement... sob... I feel that awful stench all the time... sob... I cannot eat since that race... sob... I dived several times into that thing, unseen holes were hidden under the shit... I outran the other girl and won... but she was the loser and they made her drink one gallon of the track's material... \" the blonde beauty cried softly. Her courage seemed to fade away but soon she regained her strength of will. \"I must get out of here!\"

“Did you run against one of the girls here? Or are there other racers waiting in other cells?”

\"There are several cells in this building. The perverted people here are watching more than one race almost everyday... The bastard who owns me loved to rape me while he was watching these races on TV... horrible things happen out there, in the arena... I saw races where around twelve women were forced to run...\" Joyce replied.

“Do you know what the next race will consist of?”

\"No, how could I know? The keepers of this place will come and tell us everything but I won't wait till then! I have to find a way...\" she whispered and anger filled her beautiful eyes.

“How are you going to escape? These stocks look totally inescapable…”

\"I don't know... I'm chained or tied all the time or surrounded by these fucking perverts. But I must escape, at whatever cost! I’d rather die in the desert, starved or dehydrated than spend another day in this place!\" Joyce hissed. She fell on the stocks again, shook the slab and yanked on her wrists, without success.

Aurelia considered the poor girl. Her efforts to break free had her panting and covered with sweat. In one sense, it was a good thing. If ever Aurelia had to compete against her, she would already be exhausted. But Aurelia admired too her pugnacity and her determination to escape. Joyce might prove helpful at some point, if an occasion to escape presented itself. She would then be more helpful in good shape rather than tired.

“Joyce, listen carefully to me!” advises Aurelia. “Maybe an opportunity to escape will happen. But you must be ready for it. Do not waste your energy fighting this device. It’s pretty hopeless. At least not as you are doing it. Try to build up your energy and wait for the right occasion.”

Joyce looked at Aurelia and slowly nodded. \"You're right... but you have never taken part in a race like this before... I'm not sure whether I can bear another one...\" Joyce replied. However, she kept her cool and sighed.

\"Please... someone must help me...\" the skinny Blonde cried. She turned to Aurelia. \"Please... you look so collected, can't you help me? I don't want to race! I don't want to be hurt, I want to go back home!\" Annette cried as she gazed at the agent with her big, sad eyes.

Aurelia opened her hands in a helpless sign. “I’m sorry, Annette. I can’t do anything. This will be my first race as well and I am as scared as you are. I’m just trying not to show it. Tell me, how did you arrive here?”

\"I entered the university, the first semester. I went out, for the coming-out event. I got drunk... and I awoke in a truck... I was raped and tortured and... Mom, help me...\" Annette lost control and burst into hysterical cries.

“Poor Annette. I understand your plight. I’ve gone through the same treatment. And did you see how they have arranged me? You can’t see it, but my whole body is pierced in the same way. I can no longer speak normally!”

Aurelia then turned to the black woman, whom Joyce had introduced as Alaya. “Alaya? Can you hear me? How did you arrive here? What kind of races have you been through?”

The black slave proved to be totally senseless, but after the third attempt she slightly raised her head. Utter emptiness radiated from her bloodshot eyes. Her lips quivered, a thick gob of saliva fell down pulling a long tendril behind it. That was her only reaction.

Aurelia was deeply shocked by what was going on. The black slave's state was particularly scary. And what was scaring her even more was that her own state was not different from those three girls. Actually, her multiple piercings placed her closer to the black prisoner than to the blonde girls. She shivered at how fast-paced had been her descent into Ashagen’s bowels. She had landed in a place which most slaves only reached after at least a few weeks of slavery. And seeing how dangerous these races were, she doubted she would survive for too long if she did not find a way to get out of the arena at the earliest opportunity.

\"Our little slaves are chitchatting... your pure comfort feels warm to my heart!\" a female shrilly yell could be heard. All the girls stopped talking or crying at once and a silence of death took over the room. Rhythmical ticks followed and two figures appeared between Aurelia and Joyce.

One of them was a bare-chested, robust man with bodybuilder’s muscles. He was huge, his skin was covered with sweat and the muscles were bulging under his skin as if he had just left the gym after a long and exhausting training. He wore shorts and a rubber mask over his face. Only his flashing grey eyes were visible. He held a black-leather whip in his hands, as if he was an actor in a B-category BDSM movie.

The other figure was a thin woman about twenty-five year old. She wore a red latex top that let her shapely breasts swinging freely. Her crotch was covered by a black latex accessory with a wide slit over her pussy. However, her sex remained hidden behind a huge, long and extremely thick, scraggy, flesh-colour strap-on dildo pointing upwards at a 45-degree angle. Fishnet stockings and very high-heeled whorish platform shoes completed her apparel. Just as the man, she was the archetype of the dominant characters from a cheap bondage movie. The woman had a pretty face; her blonde hair and voluptuous lips lent her the appearance of a real slut.

The man stopped between Aurelia's and Joyce's stocks and leaned against the spy's slab. The woman walked into the circle and smiled widely, her teeth flashing in the harsh light.

\"Slaves! I'm Kelly and I'm the overseer of Painbringer Stables section one. I take care of slaves registered in the races. I oversee you, feed you, train you and make you ready for the competition. I ensure the equality of all participants, watch over your comfort and execute your direct preparations. I'm your God here, and require such respect. Some of you already know me, others do not. Well, we’ll fix that flaw immediately\" she said in her high-pitched voice and slowly turned around until she faced Joyce.

\"How nice to see you again, Joyce-baby! I will never forget how you heaved and puked for ten minutes after your last victory!\" she said as she grabbed Joyce's chin. She forced her fingers into the former teacher's mouth and spread out her lips, examining her teeth. \"I see your mouth has been washed precisely: no sign of excrement but some wasted sperm...\" she giggled and slapped hard Joyce's cheek. \"You're so fucking pretty, I wonder how long your beauty will last...\" Kelly hissed and walked to Ayala.

The black girl began to tremble, and her face finally showed some emotion: Pure fear. Kelly smiled widely and carefully tickled Ayala's throat with her extremely long, shiny, unpainted fingernails. \"Yala-luv! Always a pleasure seeing good old friends around. How have you been? Are you missing your cunt-lips? Does the spot of your lost clit still hurt?\" Kelly threaded one finger through three of Ayala's wide lip-rings and playfully tugged on the black girl's fat lower lip. \"Did I tell you already that per my experience niggers die faster in Ashagen? Do you consider yourself as lucky?\" she asked but the horribly tortured woman only whined and her bloodshot eyes were rolling wildly. Kelly reached up into her nostril and extracted a gob of fag with her long nail. She cleaned her nail on Ayala's lower lip and burst into laughs. \"Not too funny mocking brain-dead meat, don't you think, Zek?\" Kelly asked and the huge man replied with a grunt.

When Kelly stepped in front of Annette, the girl was already trembling and tears were flowing from her eyes. Kelly stood facing the girl in total silence for several seconds. Annette was getting more and more terrified, uncertainty made her lose control. Suddenly her pitiful sobs burst into almost hysterical whining, as if she was being hurt, although Kelly had not even touched her. Suddenly, a shrilly yell made her stop her agonizing whining.

\"SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU DISGUSTING, ASSLICKER CUNT!\" Kelly yelled as she slapped the girl's face three times, THACK, THACK, THACK! Annette remained silent, gasping for air in terror, her face turned red. \"Listen, slut... I will gut you and make you feed on your own intestines if ever again you show any emotions without my permission! Understood?\" Kelly asked in a low voice, and Annette wildly nodded, chaffing her neck against the stocks.

Kelly eventually moved to Aurelia and stared at the beauty's face for several seconds.

Aurelia returned the look with calm, steel-cold eyes. She did not move, did not speak. She just looked at Kelly, assessing her strength and her skills from the way she held herself and the pattern her muscles formed. The woman seemed quite tough. Her body was slender and her muscles were stringy, she must had been actively involved in sports. Her eyes were chilly cold but sadistic lust was burning deep inside. She seemed dangerous although Aurelia suspected she wasn't too intelligent. The woman perplexed for a second, she didn't expect such toughness from any of the slaves, but she regained her pride quite fast and decided to reposition herself using the only way she knew. She wanted to humiliate the confident looking slave.

Kelly caressed Aurelia's face, running her sharp fingernails over Aurelia's nose, along her cheeks, tickled her chin. \"Astonishing... you're said to be the greatest talent lately, so if that's true we will meet several times before you superannuate from the Painbringer Arena\" she said and smiled widely. \"Lick the hand of your Goddess, lick the hand that will feed you!\" Kelly commanded, holding her palm against Aurelia's lips.

Because of the large ring set in her tongue, Aurelia could never wholly keep it inside her mouth. At least not in a comfortable way. So she kept its tip and its ring just passed her ringed lips, slurping the excess saliva from time to time. Obediently, Aurelia opened her mouth and fully stuck out her tongue. She began to lick Kelly’s hand as well as the ring would allow her. Kelly giggled as the girl's wet tongue and the metal ring tickled the sensitive nerves of her palm. She let Aurelia lick her palm and fingers until they were coated under a thin layer of saliva. When Kelly was satisfied with the result, she grabbed the plastic cock and rubbed her palm against it until it was shiny with Aurelia’s saliva.

\"Open wide! It's time to show how much you respect your Goddess' wishes. And I wish you to swallow this fine piece of rubber, until it's bathing in your stomach's acids.\" Kelly said while grasping Aurelia's ears and pushing her crotch forwards until the tip of the inhumane thick dildo passed the girl's lips.

She felt the hard plastic rod crushing her lips and stopping against her teeth, which her ringed tongue prevented from closing entirely. The dildo was soon putting so much pressure against her front teeth that she was forced to open her mouth wider. The strap-on immediately rushed inside until it banged against the back of her palate. Aurelia’s eyes could not believe what she was seeing: even now with the huge artificial penis filling her mouth, almost half of it was still waiting in front of her stretched lips! She retched and coughed, trying to accommodate the largest object she had ever got in her delicate mouth, fearing that her front teeth would be broken by the massive intruder.

From Kelly's point of view the sight was almost unbelievable. She was wearing her dildo for many hours almost every day and had got used to its length; a length that would have put to shame the most brawny-cocked porn actors. Combined with its impossible thickness, the dildo Kelly was carrying had soon become the most feared sight for every slave in the arena’s stables.

Kelly was holding Aurelia's nape, pushing the girl's head with all her strength against her crotch. Her fingers were locked in her prey’s hair and she began to twist and shake and pull the trapped head while she pushed her hips forward. With every thrust, she won a few millimetres, stretching the delicate throat tissue, widening the pipe, forcing the superhuman thing deeper and deeper. The poor agent was making gurgling sounds, helpless to do anything to stop or ease the dildo’s progress. Sharp pain exploded in her throat whenever a ligament or a muscle was torn to allow the throat to widen some more. Her eyes were bulging out. Her air supply was cut off and she was living on her reserves now. Her flaring nostrils were vainly trying to suck in more air.

Kelly was progressively aligning her victim’s throat with her mouth and the strap-on. Finally, with a last, powerful hump, she shoved her organ up to the hilt into Aurelia’s face. The poor girl felt a tearing pain in the side of her face as her jaw bones were dislodged from their sockets.

Kelly was looking downwards, seeing that the red haired beauty's lips were against the very base of the dildo, where the balls would have been if Kelly’s had been a real cock. Aurelia’s lips were forced into so wide a ring that Kelly doubted any tissue was still intact, not to mention the slave's jaws. Kelly felt such a wicked sexual excitement that her cunt behind the dildo was getting wet and her thighs and rivulets of juices were flowing down to her ankles.

Aurelia's eyes were wide open, bulging out from their sockets, her nostrils opened and closed frantically, pumping savagely as the slave tried to suck air in through them. Some smaller blood vessels had broken and tiny blood streams coloured in red the white of Aurelia's eyes. Droplets of saliva dripped from her chin but the dildo was so thick that it cut not only her air supply but also the emission of saliva.

Kelly reached down with one hand and held her palm against Aurelia's throat, holding the slave's head harder with her other hand. What she felt made Kelly moan and she began to squirt uncontrollably. More pussy juices flowed down her legs. The extreme dildo filled Aurelia's throat totally, stretching the flexible tube of her oesophagus doubling its normal diameter. She could feel the hardness of the plastic and even the crinkles on the surface of her favourite dildo through the girl's neck. Kelly screamed and trembled from sadistic lust, as Aurelia was fighting to reopen her air supply and against the hellish pain she was forced to endure.

The horrible oral rape continued for two interminable minutes. Aurelia’s lungs were on fire as was her throat and her whole mouth. She was fighting with all her body, bucking into the stocks, bracing on her strong legs, clenching her fists. She was fighting for her very life. As she kicked and thrashed savagely, the large rings set in her nipples kept jingling against the metal stocks. Her vision was gradually darkening and narrowing. She felt light-headed as the prolonged lack of oxygen began to affect her brain. She realised she was about to die miserably in those stables, far from the world she knew, in the hands of a crazy, sadistic slave keeper.

Finally Kelly let Aurelia's head free and with a powerful tug she yanked out the dildo from the girl's oesophagus, throat and mouth. The slurping wet sounds that followed would have turned anybody's stomach. As the dildo left the tortured oral cavity, it brought and incredible amount of scummy saliva with it, as Aurelia puked an almost fist-sized gob of whitish liquid. Zek was there holding a glass mug under the girl's chin and the unbelievably huge saliva ball fell directly into it. Thick tendrils of saliva connected Aurelia's lips, teeth and tongue to the shaking dildo, she coughed and heaved again and again, erupting more waves of disgusting liquids from the depths of her throat and stomach. Her lower jaw was hanging at a strange angle. She was unable to close the dislocated bone, which was sending fresh agony whenever it swung.

Aurelia was panting hard and fast, filling her aching lungs with the smelly air of the stable. She could not seem to get enough. In the midst of her haze of pain, she wondered if her jaw bone was broken or merely dislocated, whether she would ever be able to chew or even eat again. Her throat did not seem to regain its natural shape, leaving a very strange and painful feeling of openness, as if her oral cavity had just been transformed into a huge, living funnel.

When the extreme heaving and vomiting finally stopped and the mug was half full of the scummy material, Kelly smiled victoriously, putting her hands on her hips. \"Oh fucking God! That was one of the most wonderful throat-jobs I've ever seen! Not even the fattest, fat-lipped and wide-throated nigger cunts could have ever swallowed this dildo totally without having their jaws ruined! You were amazing, slave!\" Kelly screamed in delight and suddenly kissed Aurelia's still dripping, bloody lip. \"Say something! I want to hear if you can still talk!\" she commanded.

Aurelia weakly tried to answer, but her dislocated lower jaw only shook, sending stabs of pain in its joints. A feeble grunt came out of Aurelia’s distended throat. With anguish, she doubted that, even with her jaw in place, she would be able to talk. Kelly rubbed her chin and took the mug from Zek's hand. \"She looks fine but her jaw jumped out of its sockets. Would you be so kind and repair it?\" she asked. The big man approached the drooling girl. He got a firm grab on Aurelia's upper jaw, with his other hand he held her head in place. He started to move the dislocated jaw, almost carefully, paying much attention to what he was doing. Sharp pain throbbed into Aurelia's brain, the overstretched sinews were radiating harshly as they were forced to move even more. Suddenly the muscular man raised Aurelia's chin and yanked on it. Hoarse, dying scream emerged from Aurelia's throat but her jaw got back to its place, intact and despite the hellish pain ready to operate. Zek stepped back and Kelly handed him the mug.

\"Now your bones are in place. This kind of accidents must be treated fast if we don't want you to remain crippled. Can you talk now?\"

Aurelia moaned in pain as she tried to answer, but her jaw was indeed working.

\"Okay, it's more like a squeak than talk but you will regain your full ability surprisingly soon. I know it. You can bet this was not the first time I stretched a bitch’s throat.\" Kelly laughed. She collected another gob of drooling juices from the girl's chin, sloshing it into the mug. \"I will come back soon to you, so be ready!\" Kelly said and turned to Anet. The poor girl was trembling again in her stocks. After what she had witnessed, she was even more terrified than before.

\"Anet! right now we're in the middle of my favourite foreplay called double-swallow fun. That's me, I just love to watch slaves gagging on different things, fluids, cocks or on my favourite dildo. Double-swallow means that you have to swallow twice. First, you swallow the content of the mug.\" she pointed to the extremely disgusting wobbling mixture of saliva, stomach acid and blood. \"You have to drink it all. No puking allowed. If you vomit, we fill it back until you can hold it down. All of it! It’s that simple. As I see, this might take a long time with you but I hope you will surprise me. I love deep-throated cunts. When all is down I'm going to fuck your face with this...\" she caressed the shiny, wet dildo from which saliva tendrils were dripping on the floor. \"This is the second swallow you have to perform. At the end you'll puke for sure, but that is not a problem as the other slaves in the circle need the content of your throat too...\"

She smiled angelically and took the mug from Zek's hand. \"Open wide and start gulping, heavy task but slaves needs to learn how to deal with that.\" While Zek was holding the girl's head, forcing it upwards, Kelly forced her fingers under Anet's chin, pushing on the sinews and the unwilling girl's mouth opened like a flower. Kelly started to pour Aurelia's saliva into Anet's mouth. It took only half a second for the poor newcomer to begin to heave. Her neck was forced back and her mouth pointed a bit upwards but she managed to puke so hard that every drop of saliva combined with Anet's stomach content flew back into the mug. Kelly smiled, waited a few seconds before the pouring started again. The second time, more foul liquid was poured in before it all came back, but Kelly and Zek proved to be patient.

The poor Anet vomited six more times. Her face was pale and she was shaking continually. The eighth attempt was almost successful and Anet somehow gulped down the rest of the liquid but finally she dropped out again, producing a strong stream so that Kelly had to be really agile to collect it all in the mug. Finally Zek pinched Anet's nose, held the girl steadily, and Kelly poured down the whole mug into her throat; she didn't stop for a moment.

It was obvious that Anet was going to puke again, but before that Kelly positioned herself in front of the girl and with one, strong thrust she pushed the glistening dildo into her throat blocking the way of the vomit. Utter terror was burning in Anet's eyes, her long legs were kicking behind the stocks, every muscle tightened in her young body. Kelly's dildo cut her air supply as the wicked blonde pushed the enormous dildo deeper, directly into Anet's throat. Almost half of the dildo was still outside and despite her efforts Kelly was unable to push it deeper without tearing vital tissues so she stopped there. After a couple of minutes she finally yanked the dildo out and Anet puked everything out, all the saliva that had been poured into her and added more from her own throat and oesophagus. As Kelly stood back, Anet panted hard before she went limp. She was breathing but had lost consciousness.

\"Wow! Only two bitches and the mug is already two-third filled!\" she rejoiced over the scummy saliva she was holding in the mug. She turned to Ayala and the battered black girl opened her mouth wide; she was familiar with Kelly's desires. Ayala gulped down every drop of the sticky saliva as if her throat was a drainage gullet. Somehow she had completely lost her ability to heave or puke. During her long stay in Ashagen, the poor girl had endured so many extremities, she had had to eat, swallow, drink, gulp so many foul things that all natural reflexes had been snuffed out from her. She was barely even human.

Kelly thrust her strap-on dildo right down Ayala’s throat with incredible ease. The black girl’s throat had already been so often raped and distended that it did not offer any resistance even to so massive a monster. Kelly’s frustration would have been comical if the ambiance had not been so horrific. Ayala not only did not show any pain reaction, but she did not puke. It looked as if the poor girl was beyond the torturer’s reach.

The slave keeper angrily pulled off her dart and walked fast to a cupboard. She opened it brusquely and quickly picked two items. The one that looked like a chirurgical-steel pipe she threw to her assistant, asking him to keep it for later. The other, which was a kind of wide leather strap, she brought back to Ayala.

“It seems you have become somewhat soft-throated. I promise that his collar will help you get back some firmness” she said, a cruel grin on her face. She opened the neck hole in the stocks and wrapped the piece of leather around Ayala’s neck. The collar was as wide as the girl’s neck, made of thick black leather, featured with four leather straps. She tightened each strap as taut as it would go and locked them with four tiny padlocks. She then relocked the neck hole.

By that time, Ayala’s face showed all signs of suffocation. Since her tormenter had tightened the fourth strap, her wind pipe had been totally constricted, depriving her of fresh air. Her eyes were bulging out, her mouth was gaping wide, her nostrils were flaring as she vainly tried to suck air. She was getting frantic now, shaking her head, banging the back of her skull against the stocks.

Kelly returned to her task of raping the black girl’s throat, breaking a tooth out. She made quick thrusts, pulling her dildo half-way out between them. In spite of the pain this treatment was doubtlessly causing to her constricted throat, Ayala seemed relieved. Each push of the dildo was actually widening her throat pipe, allowing a little air to enter before the dildo came back again. Finally, Alaya’s ruined reflexes came alive for a few seconds while she was puking back all the nasty content right into the mug. As she puked, she was also trying to fill her lungs with fresh air, emitting grotesque gurgling sounds. She was feeling her widened throat slowly taking back the shape her collar was forcing it into. Her air supply was getting restricted again. Her breathing was hissing, her eyes began to bulge again.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” said Kelly at this pitiful sight. “Zek, give me the gag.”

The “gag” looked like a long, shiny, chirurgical-steel pipe with holes pierced all over its surface, with round ends. She forced it down Ayala’s gullet, until its full length had disappeared. Immediately, a hissing breath came back from the black slave's gaping mouth. The pipe was giving her throat its original shape and the holes allowed air to pass to and fro. Kelly left her victim to recover some strength and then yanked out the pipe gag. Ayala’s eyes widened in fear as she felt her throat tightening again. It was not an immediate process though. It nearly three minutes for her breath to narrow to a gurgle, then a hiss, then a cough until it was once again desperately locked.

Kelly was holding the pipe-gag just in front of Ayala’s face and the black girl was desperately stretching her neck and reaching with her fat, pierced lips, trying to grab the cruel tool that would bring back life to her burning lungs.

“You like sucking these things, don’t you, stupid Nigger!” taunted Kelly. Ayala, longing for air, nodded frantically, her mouth gaping wide. Kelly shoved the holed pipe hard into the needy, smelly throat. The black girl gagged and took as deep a breath as the constricting collar and the pipe allowed her, clenching her teeth on the steel tube. “That’s it, Nigger. I suggest you hold it well. I wouldn’t let it slip off if I were you...” mocked Kelly as she turned to her next victim.

She strapped it in place behind her victim’s neck. The latter was again breathing with a hissing noise. The mug was almost full by now, but Kelly wanted to complete the circle and her double-swallow game. Joyce looked at her in disbelief and terror, but anger and hatred were burning too in her eyes when Kelly stood in front of her.

\"Come on, Joyce! You did this very lamely, last time and you fainted just as the other Blondie there, but time brings experience. I wonder how much you have developed\" she said. Zek was already holding Joyce's head in place. Joyce fought against his hands and she tried to bite Kelly's fingers as the perverted blonde wanted to force her mouth open, so Zek had to step behind the stocks and beat Joyce right in the ribs. While she was panting, Zek grabbed her head again and Kelly poured the full mug of liquid into her mouth, pinching her nose, sometimes forcing her fingers into Joyce throat to actually push the sticky material deeper and deeper. Joyce puked out the whole content twice, and Zek and Kelly were sweating profusely when they finally managed to make Joyce drink it all.

The throat rape was short and brutal. Kelly broke two teeth out of Joyce's mouth as she forced the dildo deeper and deeper into her mouth. When the final puke spurted out from the pretty-faced girl’s mouth, the mug filled totally and loads of saliva spilled over and dripped on the ground. Joyce remained conscious at least, but she looked so utterly exhausted and miserable, that Kelly french kissed her dragging long tendrils of saliva between hers and Joyce's lips when she finally took an upright position.

She headed towards Aurelia again holding the mug completely filled with nasty, foul, smelly, yellowish liquid.

\"The circle must be completed. The game is double-swallow and you had only one swallow till now... agreed?\"

Aurelia grunted, eying at the foul liquid spilling over the mug, feeling her stomach lifting at the disgusting sight.

\"Come on, give more effort! Your words were almost articulated, only a few more times and you will be able to sing again perfectly... but what could be the problem? Got it! Maybe your throat has dried, so you need some water! Let me offer you a full mug of nice... water!\" Kelly laughed almost hysterically as Zek grabbed Aurelia's face. \"How lucky we are, you're still unable to close your mouth completely... this requires less effort from us...\" she said and her eyes were flashing as she raised the mug closer to Aurelia's face, actually holding the glass mug in front of the girl's eyes, so that she could inspect more closely its content...

The stench coming out of the mug was terrible and Aurelia tried to turn her face away from it. But Zek was behind her, half-sitting on the small of her back. He yanked on her hair until the back of her head banged against the stock's upper panel and he held her head in this position by pulling firmly on her soiled auburn mane. Aurelia’s eyes grew wide as she saw the mug approaching her ringed lips, with her ring tongue half-protruding from her teeth. Kelly lifted the mug and poured all its filthy content in one shot into the spy’s gargling mouth. The fetid gooey ran down her throat, coating her tongue and palate in its sticky mantle. She gagged and retched but the foul matter kept flowing down. Just as the last drop had been emptied in her gaping oral cavity, her stomach began to rebel. Aurelia felt her belly knotting and heaving and she began to puke.

Kelly dropped the empty, sticky mug with a highly satisfied facial expression. She had to jump back suddenly when Aurelia began to vomit. It was more a crazed, angry waterfall than a single stomach-emptying reflex because the poor girl puked out the foul liquid like a fountain. Her pretty face was contorted in utter sickness as her mouth was wide open, her spine arched and she poured all her stomach's content in one, extremely strong jet onto the floor under her face. Her super-intense vomiting lasted for a few seconds and when it finally came to an end Kelly's hysterical guffaw was filling the room. Long and thick strands were hanging from Aurelia's mouth, from her fangs, her lips, her nostrils, her chin and even from the tip of her ringed nose. Big gobs of the elastic saliva were springing up and down falling lower and lower until they reached the floor and the strands broke.

\"God! That's my favourite part!\" Kelly grinned; she was beaming. \"I wish I would have another slave here who could lick all this shit up for me!\" Kelly giggled and danced into the centre of the slave circle.

Chapter XII – The “Heavy Feet” race

Authors: Noemi Salvadge & Aurelie Catena

English corrected by JP

Authors' emails: Noya2929 [at] gmail [dot] com), Aurelie [dot] Catena[at] gmail [dot] com

Tags:M/f, M/f+, F/f, F/f+, interracial, modification, snuff, Tit Torture, feet, slavery, bondage, real, torture, nc, Extreme

\"Now my darlings, as we're over with the warming-up, we should look into the depths of the race tomorrow! Unfortunately we don't have a display in this cell so you have to listen very carefully if you don't want to miss anything important. Even you, Nigger, and you, Redhair, and don't forget you, Sleeping Beauty!\" she turned to Anet who was just slapped to consciousness by Zek.

\"The race you'll participate in is called ‘Plod Through Wolves' Valley’ also known as ‘Heavy Feet Race’. The set up is simple. Your hands are locked behind your back and chained to a heavy iron ball resting on the ground. The balls are about twenty kilos, so nothing exceptional. The main idea is that your feet are decorated with no more than four thin needles. Some of you have already experienced much harder treatments you might say, so nothing to be scared of. But you should. Each foot has twenty-six bones, a bit more joints between them, several sinews and lots of smaller and larger muscles. Simple human anatomy. Your feet are also the instruments of balance, an organ that gives you the ability to walk, run, jump and wiggle your asses. I can say that the foot is the very dainty and the precision tool of motion. A man, who's cherished here for his exceptional talent discovered ways of separating joints, of forcing sinews to bend, of scratching bones so as to inflict maximum pain. You won't lose your ability to walk... ohhh noooo... but every fucking step you make will burn like fire inside your feet and will make you regret you were ever born. However, I'm afraid walking will be quite necessary...\" Kelly explained, giggling. Her long-nailed fingers were involuntary jerking her rubber dildo as if it was a real cock.

\"One needle will be inserted between the cuboid and navicular bones, two others between the cuneiforms and a last one between the metatarsal-phalangeal joints...\" she gave the medical names one after another. \"So you will stand there in the hot sand of the Arena, and even standing still will cause inhuman pain. Your wrists will be pulled behind by the balls so walking - and I promise that with that pain in your feet you won't have a chance for running at all - will be difficult.

Watching you working forwards with such pain is an entertainment indeed, but our guests need a bit more fun. So every one of you will hold a very... errr... let's say special piece of meat between your teeth. I say hold because these pieces will be ringed and with a long chain will be attached to your tongues. If the meat falls, your tongue will be yanked by it... quite unpleasant a situation, racing with your tongue pulled down...\" she continued her explanation and her wild smile proved how much Kelly was excited even by the image of the race.

\"We want to see how steadily you can hold the meat in your mouth so your lips will be chained to your nostrils, ears, and nipples with a total of six chains. Slaves who have the adequate number of rings should feel lucky... The first half of the track is just sand, nothing else. Right in the middle you have to wade through a small pool of melted fat. Unfortunately it won't be too hot, just warm enough to be liquid. Your pierced feet will be covered with the fat so that they might become slippery. There will be a stone obstacle that you have to climb. It has stairs from your arrival side so that you can easily climb it even with slippery feet, but the other side you need to jump as it is totally vertical. Not too high: about one meter but with your pierced feet not to mention the ball... well, we've seen really funny falls in the past!\" Kelly laughed again.

\"There, the main attraction will be waiting for you... eight hungry, sweet, little doggies... Staffordshire terriers... they never attack humans so you don’t need to worry, this is not the Final Scream Arena. But they simply ADORE licking fat or chew on meat hanging from stretched tongues, if you get the idea...\" Kelly was laughing again as she peeked at Anet’s face.

\"The last question is: why should you move and strive for winning? It's easy. The file-closer always has to endure my prodding, which I execute with my gas-fuelled torch. I prefer asses but sometimes I also target other body parts... It looks like a flame-thrower but the flame is much thinner and can be aimed much more accurately. Secondly; the loser will be forced to eat every remaining meat that is left after the race. I just love to feed bitches like you, as you've already figured it out. Then she will spend her next 24 hours going from cell to cell to tongue-wash the feet of all other arena slaves. She will not be allowed to leave a cell before a guardian decides its occupant feet are properly clean. As you are all females, you will start with the men’s cells before moving to the women’s. Of course, during this period, you will be properly restrained. The second and the third participants will be forced to drink one mug of the melted fat in which you bathed your feet. They will then be fitted with a choking-collar and pipe-gag set as the one Ayala is currently wearing. The winner of course will be granted to drink the collected sperm of her fans. Being the winner is definitely worth the effort, not to mention your owner's satisfaction!\" Kelly finished and looked around smiling. \"Any questions?\"

Aurelia shivered at the mention of these atrocities. It reminded her the show she had seen on Ashagen TV. Now, she was going to be part of it. She looked at her opponents. Ayala was probably too much of a wreck to be really efficient. She looked very tired. Anet seemed too scared and shy. Joyce was probably going to be the most dangerous. She looked courageous and strong, and mostly untouched. She was too impulsive though. She would probably exhaust herself too early. Maybe even before the race…

Aurelia judged that her prospects of winning was rather good, but the race itself was going to be extremely painful and she wondered in what state she would be in at the end of it.

Kelly nodded to Zek and the hooded man walked around all the prisoners, injecting something into their bloodstream from behind, right into their buttocks. \"The race will be tomorrow morning, and we don't want our slaves being tired. Our customers need real entertainment with vivid participants\" Kelly said. Aurelia’s vision became blurry within seconds. She tried to force herself to keep her eyes open but the drug made her efforts totally useless. She only had time to see the pipe gag removed from Ayala's throat along with her choking collar before falling unconscious.

* * *

It seemed to her that between her falling unconscious and awakening only a few minutes had passed, but with her well trained senses Aurelia was able to measure the changes of the infiltrating lights. She had been asleep for a nearly a complete day. When Kelly finished her wicked game of double-swallow the time was around 2pm, and Aurelia was now waking up early in the morning: The day of the race. The position of the slaves had been changed. Their legs had been lifted high and their ankles had been put into holes above their wrists. In that position their bottoms were also raised high in the air and for her discomfort she felt that something was inserted into her anus. A dildo that supported most of her weight, so it had to be at the end of a long pole set in the ground. The position was quite painful but luckily, her limber body was easing the stretching. She was surprised how clear her brain was, right after an artificial sleep. But then she caught a glimpse at Zek who went from slave to slave and injected something into their ankles, bringing the women back to consciousness. Kelly was standing in the middle of the circle, smiling brightly. A short man was with her. The man looked familiar and Aurelia soon recognized Torana, the cruel tattooist.

\"Good morning, bitches! Your big day has finally come!\" Kelly greeted them. \"All of you have been injected with some low dose amphetamine. Enough to be aware but not too much as we really don't want you to lose your ability for feeling pain. I have Master Torana here, he will perform your final preparation. Your race will start in one hour so it's time to begin.\" she said, nodding to the Asian man.

Torana stepped to Aurelia first and blinked at her. \"Nice to see you again, slave. Tyros is my friend and he's really a nice guy, so I strongly hope you will bring him joy today. But the race must be clean so I can't favour you. Prepare for the same treatment as the others\" he said in his raspy voice. Torana produced eight shiny, sharp needles, around 10-centimetre long. He got close to the girl's left foot and grabbed her cold instep. Aurelia jumped in her restraints and wiggled her foot helplessly. It was to no avail as her foot was solidly held in the Asian’s steel grip.

\"The insertion causes pain but be prepared for a hundred times worse experience when you stand up...\" he murmured as he placed a needle against the top of her foot. He started to push and the shiny metal ran into her flesh like a knife into butter. Torana pushed it deeper and deeper, very slowly, changing the angle from time to time. The needle scratched the surface of her bone when he missed the joint but once he had revised the angle, the needle penetrated even deeper.

From the corner of her eyes, Aurelia could see the cruel man’s work on her foot, which was locked above her head on her left. She contorted her neck to get a better view. What she saw was as horrible as the pain she felt. Seeing the needle probing into her flesh, grinding against the nerve-filled surface of her tiny bones was beyond any human comprehension. She screamed to the top of her lungs, producing higher yelps when he pushed the needle deeper. She felt her very bones slightly pushed apart as the steel was forced between them. This caused extreme stress and pain in her feet.

The second needle was inserted through the side of her feet, right above her arch, and the same torturing, slow insertion was executed. Aurelia screamed her lungs out as this new needle seemed to cause even more pain. She arched her body and struggled with all her might, as if she would have been able to break the stocks apart. But her cries, supplications and thrashing had no other effect than to make the steel pillory to creak and her tormentor to grin.

As every foot had different scales and proportions it was impossible even to Torana to insert the needles accurately to the very right spots for the first time, although his knowledge of human anatomy made him quite effective indeed. He considered himself an artist and to him, inserting needles into the part with the most complex conformation in the human body was a creative process.

The third needle was pushed from the exterior side of Aurelia's foot where the toes join the rest of the foot, and Torana drove the needle through tendons and muscles also separating two joints. Aurelia’s shrieks echoed through the cell as the fiery pain did not leave her any relief. Instinctively, she wiggled her toes. This simple movement caused so much agony that she froze her foot immediately. Her mouth was gaping wide and she was panting hard, her eyes bulging out of their sockets, her face contorted in an inhuman figure of terror.

The fourth needle was driven in from the top somewhere in the middle. Every needle was sticking out by no more than a few centimetres, and due to his masterful work only a few dark red blood beads had dripped where the needles had entered the flesh. Aurelia, unappreciative of this achievement, was crying and panting and sweating, vainly trying to find in her training the strength to resist this unbearable pain.

The very same process was repeated on Aurelia's right foot, the four needles were pushed in exactly the same spots and angles. This time, Torana worked even faster as he had learned the proportions of Aurelia's feet. Torana took about ten minutes to complete Aurelia's feet. He knew what he was doing.

In the meantime Kelly and Zek had been busy with Anet and had prepared her face for the race. As the poor girl lacked lip rings they used small, shiny hooks which they threaded through her lips. Two of the hooks were double-ended and those were hooked into the whining girl's nostrils, pulling her lips upwards until her gums were clearly visible. The other hooks were pierced into the corners of her mouth and with thin chains they were stretched over Anet's cheeks leading to her ears where hooks were pierced through her ear-lobs, stretching her mouth sidewards.

Kelly and Zek went then to Ayala and Torana also moved to the crying Anet, to fit her with her feet needles. Finally the sadist couple arrived to Aurelia but as she was already fully ringed, all they had to do was to set the length of the chains so as to stretch the agent's upper lip into all directions. Aurelia’s eyes were filled with tears as this process caused fresh pain in her sensitive lips. Her exposed gums and flashing teeth gave her quite ugly a look.

Crying, whining and rough jokes filled the cell as all slaves received the same treatment until all eight feet had been decorated with four needles each, and all four faces were contorted by tense chains.

The second phase of the preparation started. Anet's wrists were released just to be chained together behind her back. Zek lifted her from her anus dildo while Kelly released her neck and ankles and Anet was slowly lowered on the floor. Poignant screams streamed from Anet's mouth as she was made to stand on her feet. The skinny girl was standing there with trembling legs and tear-covered face. Zek had to hold her to prevent her from falling.

Kelly finished her preparation with two more hooks which were pushed into her lower lips and stretched towards Anet's tits where her pink nipples suffered the same treatment. Her small breasts were forced upwards so it took some time for Kelly to adjust the length of the chains until finally Anet was ready.

\"Don't dare to fall but stay in place!\" Kelly shouted into Anet's face and the terrified girl obeyed although her face and eyes showed clearly how much pain she was suffering. Ayala and Joyce were also removed from their dildos, forced to stand up and Kelly finished the stretching of their lips. Finally they moved to Aurelia. Her wrists were released and the three wicked people forced her arms behind her back where Kelly could lock the cuffs onto her wrists. Zek lifted Aurelia, the dildo slid out of her asshole with a wet sound. Her legs and head were also freed and Aurelia had to endure as Zek actually dropped her onto the ground from a 40 centimetres height.

The pain had receded in her feet since the needles had been shoved in. But as she landed hard on them and they had to carry her entire weight, pain exploded again. The tiny bones wanted to roll and glide against each other to adjust the girl’s equilibrium, but the carefully-placed needles were in their way. They ground into their surface, prevented the muscles and tendons to stretch as they should, causing incredible agony. She nearly fell as the pain paralysed her feet. She tried to get on her toes but this immediately caused another sharp pain to fire in her toe joints. After many pitiful attempts to find a position that was not stressing any of the needles, she had to admit there was none.

When the girl finally regained her balance and the pain cleared from her vision Kelly stretched her lips to her nipples making Aurelia grin grotesquely, just as she had been forced to do in Torana's house two days before. Aurelia’s mouth was left looking like a pink flower, her cruelly stretched lips circumscribing her gums with the rosy, star-shaped, delicate skin covering their inner part. Inside, her white teeth flashed in a perfect circle with the long fangs barring the darker cavity of her mouth.

\"Okay slaves, we're almost ready!\" Kelly shouted. \"You get your snacks and balls outside the Arena. RUNNER!\"

Another stable keeper, a spindly man arrived. He was wearing an outfit and hood similar to Zek’s. He was driving an electric cart. Kelly smiled viciously and slapped Aurelia's ass. \"Move! Onto the cart!\" she commanded, and Anet was the first who carefully stepped on the wooden vehicle. She cried out, her knees almost turned sideward and made her fall, but somehow she managed to keep her balance. She slowly headed towards the cart, her legs trembling as if she were blind drunk; she was crying hysterically and let out short shrieks at every step, but finally she reached the cart and climbed onto it. Ayala and Joyce followed Anet's example but their walking was also handicapped as if they were crippled, and even Ayala started to cry and squeak as she reached the cart.

The black slave’s plight could now be plainly seen, uncovered by the stocks panels. Her dark body was covered with countless scars and burns. A long, heavy, steel rod was pierced through the meat of her ample breasts, pulling them down. Her nipples pierced horizontally by a rod, which stretched them forward by resting on a small conical armature that seemed screwed in her areolas. The nipples were stretched to nearly five centimetre long. Below her breasts, each rib bore a wide ring pierced through her flesh around the very bone. This formed a double line of steel that went done to the bottom of her ribcage. 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. Her crotch was incredibly deformed. As she hobbled to the cart, heavy rings were beating the middle of her thighs, dangling at the end of grotesquely elongated labia. They must have been stretched for a very long time to have reached so wide a span. They were held curiously wide apart. This was due to her sex, that was gaping wide, unnaturally wide: a corkscrew-shaped rod of steel 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.

Aurelia followed them in the same hobbled, shaky, screaming fashion. At every step, she had the impression that her feet were going to be torn apart. She could see the needles moving and shifting in with irregular shakes as her metatarsian bones moved around them. The pain was shooting high up her legs, making each new step a nightmare. She was suddenly wondering how she would be able to walk the whole race. Eventually, All four participants were on the cart.

Kelly jumped onto it and the runner drove out of the cell. They entered a short corridor with several doors on both sides, all of them closed and locked. At the end of the corridor a harsh sunlight was awaiting them. They passed under classic portcullis and arrived into the Arena. It was around 10 o’clock in the morning. The sun was shining brightly and radiated extreme heat. The heat was reverberated by the golden sand covering the ground. The Arena was big, twice as big as usual sport coliseums. It had no roof. The spectators were sitting around in seemingly comfortable seats, all of them had sunshades and many were drinking or eating. Naked slaves were crawling around them, offering their sexual services or simply used as footrests. High in the air a huge plasma screen showed the whole perspective of the Arena.

Each spectator had been given a small plastic bottle with a funnel appendage. During the race, the spectator could masturbate and cum into the bottle. Alternatively, he or she also could urinate or spit in it. The bottles had an empty label designed to bear the name of one of the racing slaves. During the race, slaves would be collecting the bottles and pour them into one of several tall, graduated, glass cylinders standing at one end of the arena. The name and a portrait of each concurring slave was above each cylinder and the bottles were emptied into the one corresponding to the name written on its label. The cylinders thus served to measure the popularity of each slave. A mostly unknown or average-looking one would have a mostly empty column. A famous runner would have a high level of liquid in her column. A whitish colour would tell that the content was mostly sperm, indicating that she was liked by the public, while a more yellowish shade would be the sign of a hated slave. At the end of the race, each of them would have to swallow the full content of its cylinder.

Right in front of the slaves was the track itself, which was close to the side wall so that the spectators had a clear view of every happening. The other side of the Arena was empty. It seemed that the morning races attracted less visitors. A white band was laid across what represented the start-line. Flat sand followed, around fifty meters long to where the pool of melted fat was sparkling in the strong sunshine. The stone hurdle was at least one-meter tall and it was as wide as the pool - around five metres, the rear section of the track remained hidden behind the hurdle but the girls could hear barking.

A big wooden chest and four, black balls around the size of a soccer ball were waiting in the sand. The balls had long and heavy chains attached to them. There also was a big backpack whith a flexible hose ended in a pistol-like device: Kelly's burner.

Two cameramen were waiting for the slaves along with a spectacularly beautiful woman. Aurelia recognized her immediately; she was Jennifer, the mascot of Ashagen's local TV channel. Kelly slapped the slaves' ass and forced them to climb out of the cart. Once they were all down, it rolled away, leaving a yellow cloud of dust behind it. All the slaves were standing in a line, grimacing and contorting their feet whose soles were now burned by the scalding hot sand.

\"Hello Darling!\" Jennifer greeted, smiling wide.

\"Good morning Jennifer! You've surprised me! I thought you would emcee the evening races today\" Kelly replied.

\"Well... I wanted to have a sleepover, but the Arena manager called me: someone has put a big bid on this race so we had to come and broadcast\" the beautiful girl answered.

\"Big bid? I wonder if this redhead attracted such attention!\" Kelly barked and slapped Aurelia's ass again. \"New meat.\"

\"Yes, I should have remembered her, she is new... and looks very agile...\"

\"We'll see... I've seen several 'great talents' collapsing after the first meters.\" Kelly answered.

Jennifer discussed with her companions while Kelly lined up the girls. Ayala, Joyce, Aurelia and Anet. Kelly dragged the balls closer and attached their chains to the girl's cuffs. She opened the chest and removed something.

\"Here we go girls, the race will start in a few minutes so we must finish the preparations! The snacks are ready!\" she smiled, holding the thing high in front of the slaves' eyes. All of them - even Ayala - stared with pure terror at the thing. It was a severed human hand chopped at the wrist. It must have been a female hand as it was slender and the nails were long. The hand was smelly and greenish and was slightly rotten; it looked as if it had been severed days ago. A long chain was fastened to the sticking bone at the wrist and the chain ended in a ring.

\"Open wide!\" Kelly ordered and Ayala obeyed, insanity reflected in her eyes. Kelly attached the chain to Ayala's tongue ring and stuffed the hand into her mouth, the fingers were pointing towards Ayala's throat. Kelly stuffed it deep with strength until she was satisfied. \"Bite on it!\" she ordered. The black slave did, sinking her remaining teeth into the soft flesh. The chain was hanging down to Ayala's navel. Once again, Ayala was under the pitiless sun bathing the arena. Her half-dried eyes could only see it through a blurry haze but she viscerally knew each of its features. She had lost the count of the races she had already ran in this infernal place. Each time it seemed it was going to be the last, that she could never make it to the finish line. But always she had found in herself ignored sources of strength that had allowed her to continue and sometime beat her opponents. Those sources of energy were far from being gallant. They consisted of fear, hate, jealousy, anger,… In her first races, her goal had been to win. Now, burdened as she was by her piercing, wounds and soreness, she just hoped to finish the race. She knew what happened to those who could not keep up with the other participants. They were condemned to the final arena, where the torture had no limit anymore. And if she could avoid being the loser, it would also save her from the atrocious task of foot licking she had already been through so many times. The thought almost made her heave and spit the hand shoved in her mouth.

As she was trying to force her painful eyes to distinguish what the track was going to offer, her distended anus let out a loud fart, which was reproduced by the loud speakers and caused a burst of laugh in the spectators rows. She had lost all control over her lower orifices, throwing her in the lowest pit of humiliation.

The second hand was offered to Joyce, who looked at it with utter horror and disgust.

\"Please... I can't...\" she started but Kelly stroke her in the ribs and while Joyce was gaping, Kelly took a grip on her tongue, pulled it out, chained the hand and finally stuffed it with a mighty push into the blonde girl's mouth. \"Bite on it! Harder! Come on bitch, bite! Gooood.... for your own good, do not let it fall!\" she grinned and removed another hand from the chest, stepping to Aurelia.

\"You know the method. Stick the tongue out!\"

Aurelia opened wide her mouth, resisting her disgust. She felt her tongue yanked out and its ring snapped to the chain. Then the rotten hand was shoved in her mouth. The foul taste almost made her to puke. The sheer idea of what it was, was enough to make her retch. The taste and touch were even more difficult to bear. She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth. Her fangs pierced through the soft flesh with a sickening sound and a rivulet of nauseating juices dribbled in Aurelia’s mouth. Again, she had to fight the urge to spit out the sordid morsel. But her fangs were holding it well, which might prove useful in the race to come. As she regained some of her composure, Aurelia felt the chain dangling between her breasts.

Anet was the last who had to bite on the smelly thing. She was too terrified to resist and almost willingly let Kelly hook her tongue and finally stuff the severed hand into her mouth. Anet was retching and crying but managed to keep the human limb in her mouth. Kelly turned to Jennifer and nodded. The girl set right her summer outfit and raised her microphone.

\"Good morning citizens of Ashagen! We're having a wonderful day and we're waiting for the beginning of another fantastic race here in the Pain-bringer Arena! You will see a classic Heavy Feet Race...\". The girl continued, explaining the essence of the upcoming entertainment.

Jennifer's introduction lasted a few minutes, giving time for Kelly to put on the sinister, gas-fuelled burner. She switched the device on, making emit a 30-centimetre-long, thin tail of bluish flames. When Jennifer's cameraman finally turned the camcorder onto the sweating slaves, Kelly walked along the row of trembling females, raising the flame level with their eyes, so that every girl had the chance to have a close look at the superheated gas-tail.

\"Our first contestant is slave Ayala.\" Jennifer got closer to the slaves and began the final introduction. \"You should know her from her several previous races... yesss, her looks are testifying how many times she has screamed for us!” As she was saying that, she was playing with the heavy bar passing through the Black’s breasts, lifting it and letting it fall, producing a bouncing motion and a grimace of pain. “Poor big baby, it is said you're running your last race here!\" Jennifer giggled and stepped to Joyce, the camera followed her closely. \"We have Joyce here, a very pretty but already experienced slave. Look at her face, she obviously prefers other kinds of meat... Good luck Joyce, you will need it!\" the pretty woman mocked the slave and turned to Aurelia.

\"What a beauty! A first class slave in the Arena! Well prepared, trained and ready for screaming! She is said to be a professional Arena slave, so we should learn her name: Aurelia!”. As she spoke, the camera was zooming along the slave’s body, leaving not place unexplored. To Aurelia’s shame, she could see how her body was exposed on the giant screen overhead, cheered by the enthusiastic crowd. “Do not disappoint the spectators, slave! Our valuable customers want to watch maximum efforts from the runners!\" Jennifer said before moving to Anet. \"And finally we have Anet, a brand new slave of Ashagen. Skinny but we'd seen thin girls run like cheetahs, haven't we?\" Jennifer nodded to Kelly who positioned herself behind the girls.

\"Ready girls, at my sign you all begin to run as if you were being chased... which is very true I can say.\" Jennifer giggled again and moved to the side. \"Okay slaves, start your engines, your \"Heavy Feet Race\" is about to start! Ready... steady... RUN BITCHES!!!\" Jennifer screamed suddenly.

Aurelia had been waiting intently for this moment and she did not lose a fraction of second as the signal was given. She pushed on her feet, sinking her toes in the sand and yanked on the heavy ball. Immediately a flash of pain exploded inside her feet as the needles grinded against her very bones. She clenched her teeth and the rotting piece of flesh that was filling her mouth poured more of its foul fluid into her throat and down her chin. This made her gag and retch but she managed to keep the cut-off arm firmly in place. She had been preparing herself to the pain but it was so much more intense now that she had to put all her strength into the effort.

Her arms were pulled behind her by the heavy ball, which was pushing a small wavelet of sand in front of it. To prevent the steel cuffs from digging into the flesh of her wrists, she had grabbed the chain and was pulling on it with her fingers. After a couple of moan-pulling steps she found an easier way to proceed. She yanked hard on the chain, forcing the ball to roll forward, bouncing on the sand. Aurelia could then use the slack in the chain to walk without having to drag the heavy weight with her tormented feet. This allowed her to move faster with the same amount of pain. She tried get to the end of the slack just before the ball had ceased rolling. It was indeed easier to keep it rolling than to pull it out of its sand nest each time. It took the young spy a dozen strides to perfect the technique. By then, she had gathered quite a momentum. It seemed almost as if the ball was actually pushing her forward. As she yanked on the chain, the muscles in her arm, thighs and calves bulged. Her face was a mask of pain and concentration; her eyes were focused on the stone obstacle in front of her. Each step extracted a short moan from her stretched mouth as her feet were torturing her so cruelly. Anyway, this technique immediately allowed her to take the lead of the race.

Ayala too knew the importance to start in due time and her right foot moved forward simultaneously with Aurelia’s. She too had grabbed the chain in her hands but she was pulling on it with all its body, braced forwards as the muscles in her legs pushed in the sand. Her broken fingers hampered jer from getting a firm grip on the chain, but she slid her intact fingers through chain holes and was able to pull on the ball. As she moved, her large breasts were swinging powerfully weighted as they were by the steel bar. As they bounced back and forth against her rib cage, her nipples were stretched upwards and yanked rhythmically on her pierced lips. The black slave was a very powerfully girl. In spite of all the tortures and abuses she had already sustained, of which her scarred body was an atrocious testimony, she had managed to keep her strength and willpower. As she progressed, her horribly distended labia were swinging and their heavy rings were bouncing against her thighs. Each new effort made her nether holes squirt a droplet of dubious fluid, which splashed on her straining legs or sizzled on the hot sand. Her dry, burning eyes barely allowed her to see, but she could hear the other slaves around her moaning and panting, and their chains rattling. To her despair, it seemed that, immediately on her right, Joyce was inching forward of her and that Aurelia was moving even faster. A scream of agony coming from farther on her right and neatly behind comforted her that she was not the last. Arching her back, she yanked harder on the heavy ball, trying to walk faster so as not leave Joyce taking too much advance.

Joyce was aware of the very first moment and she was prepared for Jennifer's scream. Joyce knew exactly what pain awaited her but she also knew what consequences would follow if she lost. So the pretty blonde snarled, sank her teeth deeper into the rotting hand and yanked on the ball behind her. The first strikes of pain that hit her feet were almost too much for her, but Joyce forced herself to take another step and another again. She measured her opponents, and knew that this time she would have to be even better than what she had been in her first race. Ayala was a wreck and Anet was too terrified, but the red-hair was so much different, she seemed so tough. Pain and pain again. Joyce peeked down at her feet, her red painted toes were covered with yellow sand, the shiny needles were moving slightly under her skin, deep inside her feet. The chains tugged against her nostrils and nipples, but the pain radiating from her pretty feet was almost beyond bearable. She grinned, making the rotting hand dribble more liquid into her throat. Pain... 'My God... give me strength... pleaseeee... let me win and escape.... I'm begging you....' Joyce prayed, moved one foot after the other, cried and panted.

Anet froze, despite her horrendous pain, the atmosphere of the Arena and the whole race thing were too much for her young mind to understand, believe or accept it. The cruel women around, the leather bitch Kelly and the pretty Jennifer were so unrealistic that Anet felt as if she was in a crazy dream. She had seen as the other three slaves started from the line and she was staring at their wiggling asses as they crawled forward with a truly handicapped walk, pulling the heavy iron balls, but her own legs did not move. Anet felt the foul juices of the rotten hand dribbling in her mouth, she had pain in her feet, around her mouth and in her breasts, but she was still unable to realize what was happening. But only for a very short time...

The camera zoomed on the mooning Anet as Kelly jumped to her from behind, Kelly's face was a distorted mask of anger and she aimed the flame directly onto Anet's round ass globes. High pitched screeches flew in the air as the girl jumped forward, screaming again to the top of her lungs as her feet were forced to take the inhuman pain caused by the diabolically inserted needles. Her jump yanked on the ball behind her and poor Anet almost fell back, but Kelly's second aim on her other ass cheek made Anet start the race.

Anet’s yelps were suddenly surpassed by noisy screeches and grunts. Ayala had been doing her best to keep up with Joyce but this was an unequal struggle. Although the Black slave was taller and stronger than the Blonde one, she was also much more heavily loaded. All the rings her skin and bones were carrying amounted of nearly 10 kilograms of metal; kilograms she had to support some of the most delicate flesh of her body. To her dismay, Ayala had seen Joyce gaining centimetre after centimetre, until she was leading her by half a metre. The heart of the poor Black was pounding hard in her heaving chest. She was doing her best to move her aching feet faster but the weight she had to carry was simply too much. The rings pierced behind her Achilles’ tendons weighed nearly one kilogram each and they kept dragging in the sand with each excruciating step. When her legs made an involuntary jerk, the rings bounced and crashed into the back of her calves, on a point that had become over-sensitive for having been beaten so repeatedly.

As the Blonde slave passed in front of her, Ayala felt her heart sinking. She did not want this race to be her last. Her survival instinct revolted to this idea, even though each race was so cruel and painful. She had to do something; she had to convince the crowd that she was still worth racing, that she could still offer a good show in the Painbringer arena. As Joyce was toiling in front of her, Ayala began to walk obliquely to get behind her. Then she stepped on Joyce’s chain, yanking her to a painful stop. Joyce let out a surprised yell as her ball suddenly froze in place. Ayala stepped once more on the chain, yanking the Blonde’s arms down and forcing her to her knees. Joyce's surprise turned to dismay and finally to fury. Her knees landed hard on the sand, bruising her skin and making the girl growl in her rage. Her ankles and toe-joints bended from the force of the falling and Joyce emitted horrible muffled screams as the needles scratched against her bones. She was in so much pain that for a moment she lost her orientation and became unable to resist or do anything, providing great advantage for Ayala who could keep on with her sneaky attack. Ayala kicked Joyce between the shoulder blades and trampled her, walking on her body, crushing it into the hot sand.

Joyce shook her body as Ayala's big feet trampled over her back. She turned her head aside in order to avoid suffocation in the sand, the yank tearing the rings out of her nipples. Joyce was screeching in a high-pitched tone and for her misery Ayala stepped onto her face almost immediately. A big, dirty, scar-covered sole curtained the sun and crushed her face deeper into the sand, and stroked her nose with a smell that was almost as bad as the rotting hand in her mouth. Joyce grunted and thrashed under Ayala's foot, making the Black woman lose her balance. Ayala's sole slipped on Joyce's sweat- and tear-covered cheek, her foot kicked in the air and the big Black slave fell onto the Blonde, landing on her muscular ass cheeks. The hollow rod in her ass was forced even deeper and also scratched Joyce shoulder where their bodies collided. The heavy bar transfixing Ayala’s breasts swung and bounced cruelly, making her to gasp in agony. Straddling her blonde opponent, Ayala was trying to keep her balance while she recovered from the shock of her fall. Her thighs were clasped around Joyce’s torso, the sweat of the two fighters mixing between them.

Rounds of applause filled the air of the Arena, as the huge screen followed their wrestling from a close distance. Jennifer stopped a few meters away and her girlish voice commented the suffering slaves' desperate fight.

\"Oh what a sight! Look at that! These worthless bitches believe they are in a mud wrestling event!\" she laughed and the spectators joined her.

Anet hastened her pace, the hot pain in her ass making her put great efforts into her movements. She saw how Ayala and Joyce fought and she caught up rapidly. She heard the hissing sound emitted by Kelly's burner behind and felt almost glorious when she finally passed her competitors. She managed to reach the second place! She was temporary safe from Kelly's roasting surprises!

Joyce felt more and more rage heating her heart. 'Stupid Nigger! Stupid, stinking cripple! Get off me!' she shrieked and thrashed against the panting woman. She tightened her muscles, ignoring the extreme pain in her feet and she propped her toes against the sand digging in with her toes and she kicked out. Her lean legs and strong body put up enough force to roll Ayala over. The black girl landed on her belly, crushing her huge, spiked breasts under her weight. Her face, unable to turn away because of the chains linking her lower lip to her nipples was forced into the sand. More dust entered the Black’s wide open eyes, which she was desperately trying to close. She squirmed in agony, trying to curl her muscular legs under herself to stand back up. Luckily the chains hadn't crossed each other so they were free to go. Both girls laid panting for a few seconds in the sand before Kelly finally arrived.

\"Get up, bitches! Run! Run!\" Kelly screamed before aiming the flame at Ayala's already tortured soles. Ayala shook, whined and jumped on her feet as fast as she could but collected another burn mark on her body. Blisters immediately appeared on her white soles, adding to her already pain-transfixed feet. The wounds she had received in the race where she had had to run on a mix of broken glass and salt crystals reopened, causing even more pain.

Joyce was granted some advantage by Kelly as she gained enough time to stand up while the blonde torturer was busy with Ayala, so when Kelly finally stepped to her she was almost ready to run forward. So thus when the hissing flame kissed her ass Joyce was starting the torture race again, pulling on the ball, and was heading towards the pool of fat. Ayala was on her left, hastening her pace too and this time she was far away enough to let Joyce suffer alone. Joyce looked forward seeing Aurelia's ass far ahead. The red hair had gained about twenty metres on her! Anet was stumbling a few metres ahead of Joyce and she was also monitoring Ayala's situation. Joyce had but one remaining chance of winning the race: if the dogs slowed down Aurelia sufficiently. Joyce grinned, cursed Ayala and all the sick perverts around as she collected her strength and went after Anet.

\"The first-class slave Aurelia has just passed the 30-metre line! Her technique is quite unique, the other bitches should learn from her! She marches rapidly, what a sight! The innocent Anet is second but I doubt she can keep that position, her start was quite messed and only the struggle between the two other slave allowed her to reach her current position. Ayala and Joyce, our heroines, are neck and neck. I can see that Joyce's nipples were torn in two halves when the rings were ripped from them, and Ayala's mouth is also bloody. What an exciting sight, what a race!\" Jennifer said, her voice filling the Arena.

Ayala was fighting hard to keep walking as fast as Joyce. But Kelly had known what she was doing when she burned her soles. This had crippled her definitely for this race. The Black girl succeeded in keeping pace over a few strides, but as the blisters exploded and filled with hot sand, the pain increased to a new level and she began to lose terrain. Her widespread ass let go a loud fart as despair invaded her pain-bogged mind. She was sweating tremendously under the hot sun and her sand-filled eyes were almost completely blind by now. She was now guiding herself mainly from the rattling of chains coming from Joyce and Aurelia’s efforts.

In the mean time, Aurelia was progressing relatively fast, considering the amount of painful implements that had been piled over her body. The nipple-to-lip chains were preventing her from looking behind her but, judging by what she could hear, she knew she was far ahead of all her opponents. Her mouth was already desiccated and parched, her nipples were throbbing in pain, but what was the most unbearable was the pain destroying her feet. Each step it seemed to her that her little feet bones were going to be ground to dust by the evil needles pinned among them. Only her rage to win could convince her to lift her feet again and again. Her clear body was soaked with her sweat as she toiled on the race track.

Soon she arrived by the pool of grease barring the way. Without hesitation, she stepped into it, feeling for the bottom with her toes. She sunk to mid thighs in the warm fat. Its contact provided some kind of soothing on her wounded feet. She began to glide rather than walk, forcing her way through the melted fat. This was very slippery and she did not dare to continue to use the technique that had been so efficient on the sand.

As she arrived to the middle of the pool, the heavy ball she was dragging behind her fell in the fat. The unexpected yank surprised her and destabilised her. She tried to recover her balance but with her arms chained in her back, it was difficult. Instinctively, she tried to lift her head, yanking hard on her nipples. Her lower lip was stretched down in the most hideous way and she was lucky it did not get ripped from her mouth. However the flash of pain was enough to break her concentration for a short instant. The yank on her lips forced her mouth wider and, as she bucked to recover her equilibrium, she fell hard on her knees. The shock made the rotten hand to glide out of her mouth and splash into the fat. With horrified eyes, Aurelia saw it sink under the opaque grease, pulled down by its chain.

Aurelia did not lose a second. She plunged her head into the fat that was now level with the top of her breasts. She fumbled with her face against the bottom, her fangs grinding against the stone, trying to follow the chain that led to the unthinkable piece of human flesh. At last she found it and managed to grab it in her mouth. She straightened up and her fat-drenched face broke the surface. She was now holding the severed arm transversally. Although this was less of an impediment to her breathing, this hold was also less secure.

This incident had made her lose precious seconds. Aurelia got back on her feet, her body dripping fat from her soaked hair to the rings of her crotch. She resumed her walk, now dragging her ball under the fat.

Joyce pushed herself forward, fighting with the extreme pain she was forced to endure. She was a teacher, a person of literacy who had refused all kind of violence during her life. She always wanted to be fair to anybody and believed in the power of charity. She had never been naive but purposeful, though she believed kindness was in every human being and everyone deserved a chance for proving his or her values. Her picture about the world had changed in the last weeks. She had been forced to change her perspective and she had to reappraise her own place in the world. She used to be a girl living in a rich country, had a nice flat and lots of friends around who made her life a never-ending party. Since she had arrived to Ashagen she had become a slave, a worthless piece of human flesh without rights, without solidarity, without any future. She had been transformed into a wild animal whose only purpose was to fight and stay alive. And Joyce had discovered totally different depths of her own heart and mind. She had learnt in days how to be selfish, how to be a fighter, how to live in the jungle of continuous torments and horrors. She had lost the rest of her humanity, she had been taught to be a pusher whose goal was to win. Joyce had to win if she wanted to avoid extra punishments and additional pain, so she snuffed the former human feelings in her and became what her owners wanted her to be: a fighter slave.

Joyce whined and screeched against the rotting hand in her mouth, sank her teeth even deeper into the soft flesh and slurping in the sweet tasting liquids but the foul taste did not make any sense for her anymore. She wanted to win, she wanted to avoid any pain that might be waiting for her if she failed to defeat the other bitches. She used to be a teacher but had paid great attention for keeping her body in shape, she had trainings four times a week; jogging, swimming, gymnastics. She was strong and she was resolute enough to ride herself forward despite the inhuman pain in her pretty feet.

Anet's joy of getting to the second place slipped away as the pain in her feet grew larger and larger. She tried to walk in different manners, keeping her feet forward, at different angles and even tried to make tiny hops, which proved to be a very bad idea. The hop was painful enough to make Anet shriek into her stinky gag, but when she finally landed onto her feet and the iron ball yanked her arms back her knees buckled and the poor Anet almost fell. She screamed out loudly, the hand fell from her mouth but Anet paid no attention. She stopped and cried heavily. She was actually babbling like a baby. High above, the plasma screen closed onto her contorted, suffering face and trembling figure, and dozens of spectators switched to a faster pace of jerking off their own cock or fucking the faces of their personal slaves as the sobbing girl fuelled their sadistic lust.

Joyce passed by the crying Anet and she focused her eyes on Aurelia's ass globes as the redhead wandered into the fat. She almost shout when Aurelia fell into the fat, Joyce forced herself to fasten her pace even more. Her feet were big globes of burning fire, snot was leaking from her nose and dripped, saliva drooled from the corner of her mouth and some of her fingers were seized with cramp as she pulled on the ball's chain even tighter. She tried to ignore the pain, all she saw was Aurelia dipping in the melted fat, and her very chance to win the competition. Joyce knew exactly that once she could reach the red head, she would have to be rough and cruel. No matter what could be the consequences, she would have to hurt the other slave. Despite her pain she surprised herself how clear her thoughts were. The dogs on the other side. The fat-covered body of Aurelia. The stairs that must be slippery. Aurelia must have pulled the ball after her, step by step... Joyce knew she had to reach Aurelia before she could jump between the dogs...

Aurelia had now reached the end of the pool and she was trying to climb onto the first step of the stone staircase. With her arms chained behind herself and her body covered with dripping grease, this was no easy task. She had pulled the heavy ball so that it rested against the wall. She shook her head and shoulders, sending fat droplets all around from her matted hair. She was trying to free her eyes from the fat that covered them. She bent over and laid her torso against the warm stone. She yelped as the touch revived the pain in her pierced nipples. Her face too was pressed against the stone as she could not turn it away. Then she swung her right leg out of the pool and tried to push it as far as possible on the first stair step. Her toes were wiggling helplessly, as if they were looking for some hold to grasp. Deliberately, Aurelia began to pull her left leg up while rolling her body carefully. This was very tricky as her oiled body tended to slide down the stone. She had to start again three times before she managed get all her body laying on the stone. She kneeled up, facing upstairs, and began to hoist the ball out of the pool too, while struggling not to glide back into the pool again.

Meanwhile, Ayala was toiling forward, dragging the heavy ball behind her. Her mostly blind eyes could not tell her what was happening to her opponents. It was almost as if she were alone with her pain and her terror. But she knew she was not alone. She knew, she had to prove that she was good enough to play once more in this arena. It was a pity to see her strong, powerful body struggling in the hot sun. Among all four slaves, she was the most athletic, the strongest, the tallest. She was probably twice heavier than the trembling Anet, and all the weight was pure muscle. From the way her limbs bulged and struggled, her strength and willpower were obvious. Still, the innumerable tortures she had been through in all the races she had survived to were slowing her down, crushing her into the dust. In spite of that, she kept limping forward, and each painful step made the numerous rings pierced through her flesh to swing and glisten in the pitiless sun.

Kelly was closely following her and was finding great pleasure in whispering into Ayala's ears: \"Yesterday a nigger just like you was fried in the Snuff Arena... you can't imagine how much body fat can be melted out of a meaty body like yours! She was crawling around on a very large metal plate heated from below. The sizzling grease that was bubbling on the pan with her prevented her from staying on her feet for long. It was such a sight to see her slipping and falling and getting back on her blistered feet repeatedly on the sizzling plate! I love roasting a Nigger: rosy blisters stand out so much better on black skin! It took her more than one hour to give up. I saved a roasted breast of hers; after the race you will be fed on it if you lose...\" The woman was teasing Ayala and sometimes aimed the bluish flame to her ribcages for short seconds.

Anet's desperation totally overwhelmed her. She didn't want to move anymore. She didn't want to fight, she didn't want to suffer. All she was wishing for was waking up from that horrible nightmare in her student hostel room. Everything seemed to be so unrealistic, so nonsensical. But her pain was real indeed. The burn marks on her ass formed large blisters. Her feet were throbbing but at least, when she stayed in place, the pain wasn't beyond bearable.

\"Pleaseeeee... sob... my God pleaseeee... sob... I'm begging you please... sob...\" she was crying wildly and loudly, her pitiful pleads and whining could be heard clearly among the spectators. Laughter and mocking arrived from their ranks.

\"Move bitch!\"

\"Stupid cunt! I've put hundred bucks on you! Run you worthless turd!\"

\"Look out, the nigga' is right behind you!\"

But Anet was unable to move or even to understand the meaning of the shouting. She stood there like a statue and cries were shaking her young body. Ayala approached her more and more, and Kelly also positioned herself behind Anet. The blonde sadist's face was an intense mask of pleasure. The almost blind Ayala finally reached Anet's line, who turned her face towards the pitifully crawling Black and let out a renewed, terror-fuelled scream. The contestants were less than two meters apart, and Kelly licked her lips. Black ass, white ass... Which one was going to be burned the most?

Although Ayala was almost blind, she could hear Anet’s moans and vaguely distinguish what was happening. This weak girl will not survive more than a few races, she thought. She is too scared, to sensitive. Still, if Kelly motivates her well, she is able to out-run me. I must make sure to cripple her enough to leave her no chance at all. With these thoughts in mind, she closed the distance that still separated her from Anet. As she arrived just behind Anet, she kicked her knees into the crook behind those of Anet. Taken by surprise, the shrieking girl fell down at Ayala’s feet. Ayala knelt by her side and fumbled with her hands until she managed to grip one of the Blonde’s feet. She grasped her big toe and began to bend it backwards, determined to break it.

Anet let out a shrilling scream. Laying on the hot sand, her body in permanent pain, there was not too much she could do. But as her dainty toe was grabbed and bent into a highly unnatural position her misery grew beyond inhuman. Not only because her the tendons holding the toe were stretched to their limits not to mention the bones, but because this aggressive attack made the needles cross some bones and cut deep into the sensitive tendons inside her foot too. Anet was screaming loud and long with a wide open mouth, she struggled against Ayala's firm grip, tried to kick but that was all she was able to do. Anet's toe was forced backwards until it was fractured with a crack, and the young Blonde's scream reached another level. Anet had healthy lungs, she used to sing in her high school's choir so her terror and pain-filled long wailing fought high and filled the Arena.

Ayala stopped her movement as soon as she heard the sickening crack. She could feel the thumb toe getting slack. In her previous races she had seen other girls getting their toes broken and she knew this made the foot almost useless. She hesitated to break the toe of the other foot but then decided against it. This poor wreck is done, she thought. She will never find the strength to walk again and will be forced to crawl if she wants to progress at all. And trying to grab her flailing leg will just make me lose more time.

With that, Ayala worked herself back on her own pain-wracked feet and continued to walk. She never admitted defeat. Maybe the Blonde and Red bitches would kill each other, allowing her an improbable victory. She had seen that happening countless times in the arena. She continued, dragging her sore feet through the hot sand, her large breasts bouncing their heavy spike back and forth while their nipples pulled hard on the black lips, revealing the rosy gum flesh.

Anet stayed screaming in the hot sand, her big toe pointed in a clearly unnatural angle. She was babbling loudly like a baby, lost in her nightmareous reality. Kelly waited for a few seconds, devouring on the ultimate suffering radiated from the thin blonde. With her free hand she rubbed her pussy and sucked the finger licking her own juice.

\"Get up bitch! Get up and fight!\" she shouted into Anet's face finally, spat onto her lips and aimed the flame onto the convulsive girl's left thigh. Renewed shriek shaked the air and Anet tried to crawl away from the brashly standing Kelly, but the woman easily followed her pitiful strugglings and sooted a long line on anet's tight ass with the flame roasting flame. Poor student was screaming and screaming, the spectacors sitting near awarded loud applause to Kelly who smiled charmingly and even made a deep bow to her audience. Kelly's face showed ecstasy and happiness, she really loved her work.

Meanwhile Anet managed to climb onto her feet but with the needles embedded, her toe broken and even several spots of her body burnt poor Anet had no chance for getting back to the competition. Kelly sniggered and burnt Anet's shoulder from behind, and the blonde made a crippled step forward while she was screaming and screaming. She almost fell, the foot with the broken toe was unable to hold her weight. But Kelly did not take care of that and burnt Anet's right thigh from behind, making the screaming girl move forward another short step.

Joyce grinned; the muscles in her neck were bulging. She bent her waist forward and let her knees bent before every step causing increased pain but hastening her pace even more. She peeked up, monitoring Aurelia's desperate efforts as the tall woman tried to climb on the stone stairs. Joyce could imagine herself reaching Aurelia, spitting out the rotting hand and sinking her teeth into the Red-head's ankle, closing her jaws around Aurelia's Achilles’ tendon and dragging her back into the pool of fat. Yesss! Aurelia's peds must be hurt, must be fractured! Joyce had already lost a lot, her nipples were ruined and she was too much worried about their condition to think over what could have happened to them. At least her mouth was not chained to her chest anymore letting her move more freely. She almost smiled. Aurelia failed to climb onto the stairs again. And Joyce was getting close.

She entered the pool, sinking slowly, gliding her feet on the bottom. She used the correct technique almost instinctively, keeping her balance, staring at Aurelia who had finally managed to roll onto the first stair and was kneeling up. Joyce could see that her opponent was almost blinded by the fat dripping from her hair. Her ears were probably covered with a layer of fat too. Joyce slid forward and the pain in her feet almost knocked her out. She felt as if a thunder stroked her, but she managed to proceed. She opened her mouth and let the rotting hand fall into the fat. All she could see was Aurelia's ankle in front of her eyes, at the level of her abdomen. Aurelia’s feet were off the stair, above the pool. She hoisted her ball out of the fat, producing a low smack. Joyce almost was almost running out of time, but finally Aurelia's vulnerable heel was right in front of her. Joyce shrieked loudly. The high-pitched banshee scream was the clearest expression of her fighting rage. She bent forward, opened her jaws ignoring the pain in her nostrils and ears, and aimed her bite right at Aurelia's ankle.

Aurelia froze for a very short moment, taken aback by Joyce's war-cry. It came from too short a distance. Her momentary passiveness proved to be a major mistake. Joyce closed her healthy teeth around the sensitive tendon and tried to sink her teeth into Aurelia's skin. But the Red-head's foot was slippery from the fat and her teeth slipped not even scratching the skin. Joyce boggled for a moment and she desperately tried to bite into Aurelia's foot. Finally her teeth found their grip but not a tendon or even meat but on the skin of Aurelia's heel. Her teeth closed together, as they were pinching, pulling the skin at the very tip of the ankle. Joyce also lost her balance and started to fall back, but she kept her mouth closed, drawing blood and dragging on Aurelia's foot. For a short moment both girls froze in their position, and only a small chunk of skin held Joyce from falling back into the pool.

The wound was superficial but it was painful. Aurelia, with her back turned to the action and with fat filling her eyes could not see what was really happening. It felt as if her heel was being torn away. Aurelia’s first movement was to turn her head to look at her attacked. Immediately, this sent a tearing pain in her nipples and lips as the line tugged on her sensitive flesh. Unable to look at what was actually happening and feeling the pain in her foot increasing, she kicked her leg violently. She felt Joyce’s nose creaking under her heel and she heard her desperate scream as she fell into the fat. Aurelia started to grin victoriously when she felt herself gliding down the stone she was kneeling on. Her kick had been too forceful and it had broken her precarious balance. Desperately, she tried to recover it by bending forward and shuffling her greasy shins frantically. But it was to no avail. Relentlessly, the gravity was pulling her backwards down the angled stone, her oily skin providing no grip on the smooth surface. With a cry of rage, she fell into the fat pool, pulling her ball with her.

Splashing warm grease around, she landed on top of Joyce, just as she was fighting back to the surface. Joyce was pushed back below before she had a chance to gulp some air but she managed to avoid being crushed by the heavy steel ball. Aurelia was decided to maintain her advantage. From the rage she had heard in her attacker’s scream, she knew this was going to be a no-quarter fight. By the way, attempting to climb back on the stairs with that fury behind her was not an option. She had get rid of her! Unfortunately, she was at a disadvantage: even if she let fall the rotten hand from her mouth, her hooked lips did not allowed her to bite hard, something Joyce was obviously able to do. This left her with only her feet to fight, feet that were almost paralysed by the needle-induced pain.

Aurelia could feel Joyce struggling under the surface. She fumbled around with her legs and managed to grab her opponent within the powerful grip of her strong thighs. She crossed her ankles to put more pressure, squeezing Joyce’s mid-section between her legs. Meanwhile, she jerked her bound arms frantically as she tried to stay upright with her head above the surface. Her plan was to keep Joyce below until she passed out.

To Aurelia's disappointment the fat proved to be too slippery. No matter how desperately she tried to strangulate Joyce's body, the Blonde somehow managed to wiggle around until she had some place. Joyce was fighting for her life. No thoughts were forming in her mind, her desperate struggles were her death dance. She had no air to breath, her hated opponent wanted to drown her into the pool of fat. Without coordination or plan, Joyce started to kick around, forgetting about the chains still attaching her lips to her nose and ears she shook her head as if possessed by the devil, kicking into the stone under her and using the power of her strong legs to push herself away from Aurelia's trap. With a final kick she managed to slip out of the grip and to swing away from Aurelia. Her head emerged from the fat about two meters from her opponent and Joyce coughed and puked immediately, gasping for air and heaving strongly. She was blind and deaf but her life instincts made her crawl further. She wanted to leave the pool, to regain her breath, to rest and pull herself together. She wanted to live even if this meant to lose the race.

\"My Holy God! Ladies and Gentlemen! All of you who've chosen this show this morning must bless the choice! This is fantastic! I've never seen such a race, not a competitor got through the stairs but we've already seen three beautiful duels!\" Jennifer followed the events from the line and she was screaming almost hysterically, like most empathized sport reporters. The audience also enjoyed the show; several slaves were being dragged out from the ringside already as their masters had fucked their throat until the women passed out. The slaves whose duty was collecting the spectators' sperm and urine bottles had enough work to run around like mad ants, and the cylinders at the end of the track were filling fast.

Aurelia’s eyes were starting to get clearer as the fat was slowly dripping from her face. She saw Joyce fleeing, obviously scared by the violence of their fight, her tongue pulled behind by the chain that linked to the rotten hand that she had spit before the fight. Aurelia herself was panting hard, fat and saliva drooling from her gaping, curled-lip mouth, around the hand she was holding transversally. Aurelia suppressed her hunter’s instincts that wanted her to chase after the wounded prey. It was hardly a smart thing to do. Even if she could beat her easily, a bad wound was always a possibility. By the way, she could see Ayala approaching the pool too. She had obviously got rid of Anet, who was squirming in the sand farther behind, stimulated by Kelly’s flame thrower. The Black fighter, in spite of all the cruel steel shining on her dark skin, looked formidable. It would be safer to stay out of her reach.

She looked at the stone stairs. If she was fast enough, she might get back on the stairs before Joyce could come back. Even the Blonde dared to do it anyway, now Aurelia would not let herself been taken by surprise. She bent again her torso against the stone, flattening her proud breasts against the fat-covered step and swung her leg over it. She wiggled a bit and soon was once again kneeling on the lowest step of the staircase. She grabbed the heavy ball and hoisted it, inch by inch, until she could land it at her knees.

She heard a splashing sound behind her and slowly turned her shoulders and face to see what was happening. Joyce, having seen that Aurelia had managed to climb back out of the pool, was progressing again toward her. Behind her, Ayala had just jumped into the pool and was toiling toward the obstacle as well, a ferocious determination on her incredibly tortured face.

Aurelia felt safe now. She stood back on her feet and grimaced as her full weight once again rested on her needled metatarsians. The pain was coursing up her nerves, almost paralysing her legs up to her knees. She did not know how long she would still be able to bear this breath-taking throbbing. Nevertheless, she fought hard and moved her feet, climbing slowly and prudently the few stairs that led to the top of the stone obstacle.

The Blonde and the Black slave met right at the stone obstacle. Joyce was still terrified, and also she still had some fierceness in her. The bad experience she had had with Aurelia made her review the right strategy. 'Here's the Nigger again... she is so tough... so strong... those legs...' Joyce looked into Ayala's eyes and tried to smile, which proved to be very hard with her tongue pulled down by its chain and the rotten hand.

\"Lhook... if whe fhight... whe both lhose... but if whe chatch the rhed-head... shecond phlace the whorst...\" she tried to explain her idea to the half-blind, seemingly blood-thirsty, once-resolute girl. \"Nhothing to lhose! Yhou've phunched bhack Ahnet! Lhet's khnock the other thoo!\" Joyce spoke in a highly inarticulate voice and was hoping she managed to convince the tortured Black. She needed Ayala if she wanted to defeat Aurelia, and after they got over the Red-head she could still outrun the Black.

Ayala considered the proposal. This bitch is right. If we fight now, we are lost but if we cooperate, we still have a chance to win. Once the Red-head out of the way, it will be easy to me to beat this Blonde to a writhing pulp. And if I win this race, I might be allowed to run another one.

“OK” she nodded. “He’p me c’imbing here, and I’ll he’p you”. She rested her torso on the greasy stair. The spike and the numerous rings pierced under her ribs rattled against the stone and she grimaced as pain coursed through her body. She wondered how she might be able to climb this without help. She tried to swing her leg over the stair, as Aurelia had done, but her leg kept gliding backward, finding no purchase.

Meanwhile, Aurelia had reached the top and immediately the barking of the little dogs got frantic. They were whirling and hopping at the foot of the one-meter high wall, looking at the dripping, naked body of the young spy. She looked coldly at them. She had never liked dogs, and she had but contempt for this kind of little, noisy devils. But the idea of having to jump among them, bound and tortured as she was, was frightening. She did not know if she would be able to stay standing as she landed hard on her tortured feet. But she had a plan.

She dragged the heavy ball until it was resting between her feet and half-squatted over it. Then, with a spiteful grin at the Terriers, she pushed it over the edge. The ball fell and broke the back of one of the dogs under its weight. Immediately, the confusion grew among the frantic canines and they move away from the killer ball and their whining, dying companion. Once they felt at a safe distance, they began again to bark and growl towards Aurelia.

The young Red-head, sat down on the top of the stone wall. She took a deep breath and let herself slide down. As she landed on the sand, it felt as if the needles pierced in her feet had exploded the little bones apart. The agony flashed in Aurelia’s head and she feel forward on her knees. With her arms chained behind her, she was unable to keep her balance and fell further, landing on her chest, flattening her breasts under her torso, her face pressed in the sizzling sand. She grunted, waiting for the pain to lower in her throbbing feet.

At first, the little dogs had kept a safe distance from Aurelia. The death of their pack mate had scared them. They were used to face helpless slaves, not fighting-back furies. Aurelia was squirming in the sand, trying to swing her body backward to kneel up. She was squatting on her knees, her torso and face buried into the sand, growling and moaning helplessly. The dogs began to realise that, after all, this girl might not be more dangerous than those they were used to. The hardiest among them began to get closer. Aurelia was still grunting and contorting her arms and butt, trying to lift her chest off the ground. The dogs turned around her and gave short, scared licks at her fat-covered legs. Feeling that the dogs were getting hardier, Aurelia managed, with a powerful yank on her back muscles, to straighten herself and sit her bottom on her heels. The dogs were barking and whirling around her.

The girl’s front was covered with sand sticking to her fat-layered skin; her mouth was spitting and drooling sand, her face was grimacing with pain. She looked exactly as all the other slaves the little dogs had seen. She was holding a juicy piece of rotten meat in her mouth and they knew how delicious it was. Feeling encouraged, the dogs jumped at the poor, suffering girl. Aurelia tried to chase them away, contorting her legs and her shoulders, pulling cruelly on her nipples in the process. But the little devils were swarming around her, jumping from all directions. One of them grabbed one end of the rotten hand and began to growl and to shake it frantically. Before she could knock it away, another clenched its teeth on the other end. Two dogs were too much for her sore jaws. She could not close her mouth completely, unless she wanted to tear her nipples or lower lips. She felt the rotten hand being torn from her teeth. She let out a desperate scream as one of the dog managed to steal it from its competitor and run away with the piece of meat. The chain unrolled on the sand and yanked hard on Aurelia’s stretched out tongue. She yelped and jumped to her feet, screaming and gagging.

She ran after the dog holding her by her tongue leash. The dog was zigzagging madly as it tried to avoid its mate who wanted to rip its juicy prize from its jaws. Aurelia had never ever felt so much pain than what she had to endure during that deeply humiliating and even more torturing run after the dog. Her tongue was pulled extremely from her mouth, she had the feeling of hearing the root tearing slowly as the little dog yanked on it every time it changed direction or even turned its head. Combined with the throbbing pain in her feet that were forced to step faster and faster, Aurelia got a clear picture of what Hell actually was.

The two dogs fighting for the rotting hand must have been the leaders of the pack as several other little demons ignored their competition and the ten little doggies focused their attention onto Aurelia's body and mainly onto her feet. Warm, dipping fat... they found it extremely delicious. Two or three terriers attacked Aurelia's feet; they wanted to lick and slurp instead of bite into the flesh, but as the girl was forced to follow the dog holding the rotten hand, those around the girl had no other choice but to jump against Aurelia's limb again and again. Whenever a small dog made a long lick along her foot or another jumped against her delicate peds, new waves of pain shot through her body so intensively, that after a few seconds Aurelia's pain tolerance reached its limit...

Back to the obstacle, Joyce had manage to push Ayala’s huge black body onto the first stair. Ayala was trying to get on her knees without slipping back into the pool, helped by Joyce who was bracing to keep her in place. Her wide-stretched anus and pussy were dripping the greasy fat down her thighs. The rings pierced at the end of her elongated labia kept ringing against the stone. Eventually, she managed to sit on the second step of the stair case.

“You’ tu’hn now” she said.

Joyce followed using the same gymnastics. Ayala was helping her as well as she could, using her feet and legs to prevent the Blonde from slipping.

Joyce did her best to climb the slippery stone as fast as possible. She never forgot the pain for a moment, but she had a quite clear picture of what degrading and painful acts would happen if she did not beat her competitors. Even the winner was forced to bear extreme acts between the races, but knowing her master, Joyce had no doubts about how angry the man would become if something did not fit his requirements. So she grinned and forced herself to cause pain to her own body. Ayala's strong, muscular legs helped her in fulfilling the hard task, and Joyce got a really close peek at her opponent’s extraordinary muscles. Although the black skin was covered with hundreds of different marks received during Ayala's time spent in Ashagen, the muscles and tendons under the skin were still intact, and their powerful struggling as the Black held her legs for Joyce, made it clear to the Blonde. The roughly-treated slave was still tough. Joyce was breathing hard and with some badly aimed movements she caused pain to Ayala - whose face contorted every time that Joyce touched her feet. After some struggling, Joyce climbed on the stairs too.

Finally, both girls were standing on the stairs, hoisting their balls towards them. They carefully climbed the remaining steps to the top of the stone wall. From there, they could see Aurelia who was still chasing the dogs that were yanking on her tongue chain. She was running doubled over, her tongue stretched incredibly far out of her gaping mouth, her breasts bouncing madly as she tried to keep pace with the little barking devils. The pack was moving randomly across the arena but Aurelia was obviously trying to coax the dogs towards the finish line. Sometimes she managed to lead the dogs towards the finish line - by taking the risk of making her tongue ripped out as she held her body against the chain - but the playful doggies often changed their route, fighting for the rotting hand so Aurelia had to follow them; she had no real influence on what was happening.

As the two slaves appeared on top of the wall, all the dogs that were attacking Aurelia’s legs suddenly left her alone and hurried towards the obstacle. They new that new rotting meat was about to be served and they did not want to miss it.

Ayala was still holding her hand firmly shoved longitudinally into her mouth. She had good hope to be able to keep her hold on it. If the dogs did not catch it, she would be able to walk straight toward the finish line. She looked at the poor Joyce who was still dragging her rotten hand behind her, hooked to her tongue.

“Let’sh go!” she barked and she jumped down the wall. She landed hard on the sand and the pain seemed to made her feet burst in pieces. Screaming to the top of her lungs, she curled into a ball and rolled onto her shin. She tried to protect the rotten hand from the attack of the dogs. Little of it was visible out of her wide-stretched mouth and the hungry canines could not reach it easily.

Joyce was almost sick from the sight of Ayala's landing. Her pitiful shrieks and Aurelia's desperate fight against the little dogs brought doubts whether she would survive that race. She knew that she would be unable to avoid the pain of landing, but she somehow had to avoid that tongue pulling exercise, as her tongue already hurt like hell from the long stretching that the hand had caused. Thanks to her desperation and creativity she soon found the best solution. She bent her knees, positioned the stinky human hand right between her legs and started to swing it only a few centimetres above the stair. When the hand swung behind her body Joyce bent her knees even more so the hand just landed under her fingers, near the iron ball. She squatted down and reached out whit her long fingers, trying to grab the hand. While she was trying to bring her fingers lower and lower while trying to keep her balance and avoid falling back, her heels raised a bit. The high-pitched screams made by some spectators turned from Aurelia and Ayala towards Joyce. The Blonde had to drop back on her heels and gather some strength before she could try again.

Her second attempt was successful, and Joyce blessed God and herself for having long nails. She managed to pinch a small piece of rotting skin between the nails of her fore and thumb-finger, she could raise the whole chain-weighted hand a few centimetres but that was enough for her to grab it with her other hand. She rolled the rotten hand between her palms until she felt the grab really secure and strong. She stood up.

The camera zoomed on the squatting girl and every spectator inside the Arena got a clear view of what Joyce was doing. A pretty, blonde woman squatting on the top of a stone wall and desperately clenching her fingers on a disgusting, smelling, rotten human hand... several spectators burst into laughter at that sight.

Joyce had lost the chance for grabbing the ball's chain behind her and the hand's chain was hanging between her legs, which might cause further problems. But at least her mouth was free for inhaling as much oxygen as she could. She opened her mouth and started to scream as she jumped. Her scream became even more intense when she landed only a few meters behind the still tottering Ayala, and Joyce was the first of the three slaves who managed to keep her balance and avoid falling. She screamed and screamed, her face was a mask of pure agony but her strong, young legs and feet could keep her standing.

Joyce shook her head and shouted to Ayala.

\"Move! Get her, move!\" she screamed and then both girls tried to head towards Aurelia. But the swarming little devils had just arrived and they leaped at both women, seeking for the hands and licking off the fat from their feet. Joyce screamed again, she tried to keep her hands as high as she could but the dogs could easily jump that high. So unlike Ayala, Joyce had to deal not only with the dogs around her feet but she also had to endure the sharp scratching of the predatory teeth as the dogs tried to tear the hand out of Joyce's grip.

Joyce clenched her fists as hard as she could, digging her fingernails deep into the soft flesh. There was nothing else she could do but heading forwards and hoping that she would be able to hold the rotting hand as long as needed to reach the goal. She screamed in pain and also in anger as she began to walk, fighting every movement against the raging little demons.

Behind the stone obstacle, Anet was impelled to walk forwards by Kelly's infernal blowtorch. The Blonde torturess was becoming angry as Anet was so slow and shiftless. The Arena's rules were clear, she was allowed to burn only the slave that was the last of the race. She would have found much more pleasure in roasting the shapely curves of any of the other three slaves but not that whining little piece of shit. Kelly was disappointed; Anet's lack of fighting spirit simply disgusted her. She hated Anet because of the girl's weak mental and physical attributes. Kelly loved fighting slaves who were struggling against their inevitable fates and did their best to win.

\"MOOOOOVEE YOU LAZY BITCCCH!!! MOVE YOUUUUR WIZENED CUUUNT!!!\" Kelly shrieked like a banshee as she switched the tail of flame between Anet's ankles. She aimed the flame to whichever ankle that was behind, making Anet jumping from foot to foot as if she was a galloping pony. Kelly's torch formed blisters soon on the back of Anet's heels and around her Achilles’ tendons. Anet was wailing as she was jumping in a funny way, and the spectators were grateful for that sight, showing the sign of Victory to Kelly who smiled back to them. So Anet was impelled to keep up her pace and reach the pool of fat. Before she could step into it Kelly grabbed her neck and shrieked into her ear.

\"DO NOT DARE TO STOP IN THAT POOL, BITCH! IF I NEED TO GO AFTER YOU, YOU WILL REGRET YOU'RE EVER BORN!!!\" she threatened Anet and pushed her towards the pool. And poor Anet waded into the pool of fat crying, with heavy steps.

Ayala had managed to keep the rotten hand firmly inside her mouth, in spite of the dogs’ yanking at it and licking of her face. Once she had somewhat recovered from the shock of the landing, she forced herself to stand up, shaking a dog that had climbed upon her back. It frantically tried to stay on her, curling its paws in the rings pierced around the Black’s ribs along her back. More vigorous and painful shaking made it fall, yelping in frustration. Freed from the little devils, Ayala began to toil forward, dragging the heavy ball behind her, bracing on her pain-transfixed feet. Her dark skin was glistening with sweat and grease as she struggled under the hot sun. Her muscles were bulging as she earned every centimetre with more pain, sweat and blood. Her half-blind eyes seemed focused on the finish line, still so far ahead. She could barely see where Aurelia was, but the barking of the dogs where leading her.

In spite of the pain throbbing in her whole body, she kept walking, surrounded by a horde of little dogs. The distance between her and Aurelia was closing as the poor spy was painfully yanked by her stretched tongue. But suddenly Ayala was stopped short in her track by a lightning of agony in her crotch. One of the little dogs had just found one of the rings dangling at the end of her grotesquely elongated nether lips, and it had grabbed it in its fangs. It was now yanking on it playfully. Ayala’s legs began to shake as the pain overwhelmed her. A long, coarse moan escaped her muffled mouth. She fell to her knees and her heavy boobs bounced under her, weighed down by the spike, until her pierced nipples touched the hot sand. The dog kept pulling at the ring, stretching the labia even further, growling all along.

Joyce had to take a decision: Helping Ayala or running towards the finish line? The Black girl was suffering on the ground, surrounded by a pack of hungry, aggressive dogs. She could see that as dog was roughly pulling about Ayala's extremely stretched labia, while other dogs attacked the woman's face, fighting for the dead hand. Joyce was shocked. She had to fight against her own dogs too, her feet, ankles and shins, not to mention her arms and wrists were bleeding from the numerous attacks done by the hungry dogs, but what she was seeing made her retch and puke.

The little dog yanking on Ayala's horribly tortured an unnaturally extended pussy lips had succeeded and the Black's flesh started to stretch beyond its natural limits. Long, red slits started to appear around the middle of the thin labia and soon the flesh began to tear.

Ayala screamed to the top of her lungs while contorting her arms and fingers in a vain attempt to protect her pudenda. The pain between her thighs was driving her crazy with pain, destroying all her concentration.

Meanwhile, two other dogs attacking Ayala's face managed to bite deep into the rotting hand portruting from her mouth and they fought against the woman's teeth, yanking the hand out of her mouth. Ayala's hoarse screams was too terrible to listen but Joyce had no choice but to listen and watch. One of the dogs also bit a small chunk out of Ayala's mouth and lips, and when the two dogs ran away with their trophy dragging the chain behind them, Joyce could see that they also torn off the tip of Ayala's tongue. Blood poured from the wounded Black's mouth and when the chain finally stretched again her mutilated tongue, the root of the chain was ripped through the remaining of Ayala's tongue. The poor Black vomited blood and as her mouth was free to open she screamed out in such a loud and horrible voice that Joyce's blood froze for a second.

Joyce just had passed Ayala and was staring at the pitifully moaning, bleeding woman. She thought that Ayala had finished her race. But, to Joyce’s utter surprise and terror, Ayala opened her blind eyes and shook her body. Despite her terrible condition, she forced herself onto her knees. Blood was pouring from her mutilated mouth and from hear half-torn labia, but the Black slowly stood up...

In the mean time, Aurelia was desperately trying to follow the dog that was yanking cruelly on the chain hooked to her tongue. Whenever the pets where heading away from the finish line, she tried to scare them in another direction but they rarely felt concerned by her frantic roars. The young spy felt as if her tongue was going to be torn from her throat. But she knew very well that the tongue was a strong muscle, not that easily dealt with. The two dogs kept leaping at each other as they tried to rip the rotten hand for themselves. As they fought, they ate bites of decomposed flesh from it.

At some point, as they were struggling together, each one pulling in a different direction, Aurelia managed to come close enough to get some slack in the chain. She had been looking for that opportunity for long, cruel minutes. Instantly, she stepped on the chain, pinning it into the sand. She was now once again controlling it, while the dogs where fighting and yanking on the hand at the other end. She began to fight with them, trying to kick them with her other foot. She yelped in agony as this brought tremendous agony in her tortured feet. But she knew she had to do it. She could see Ayala and Joyce coming her way. The two seemed to have concluded an alliance and Aurelia felt that she would have to fight them both if ever they managed to reach her.

She knelt down, trapping the tongue chain under her left knee, bringing her face at the level of the dogs. Then she began to fight with them with the same weapons: her fangs. The dogs were not used to such attacks from human beings. She bate one of them in the middle of its back, making it to yelp in pain and surprise. She tore a bit of skin and hair from its back before letting go. The pet flew away, whining, terrorised. Aurelia turned to the remaining dog and bate it as well, producing the same reaction. She spat hair and blood and crouched over the rotten hand, which was now covered with dog’s saliva and sand. Without losing a second, she sank her fangs into the putrid flesh and got back on her throbbing feet, the hand once again held transversally in her mouth.

Joyce was walking away from the zombie-like Ayala. She was too much terrified, she was too much shocked. She could see that Aurelia had finally freed herself from the attacking dogs and had got back the rotten hand into her mouth. Joyce could never have hoped that she could run so long while the dogs were tearing at her hands and fingers. She was bleeding and sweating but the finish line was getting closer and closer. Joyce was praying and hoping that somehow she might be allowed to overrun the grotesquely mutilated Ayala, the strong Aurelia and somehow reach the finish line in first position.

Jennifer was standing on the sideline, between Ayala and Aurelia and talked fast. There was too much happening to cover everything. She was glad that she had been dragged out of her bed so early. The show that those bitches were giving was beyond her best hopes.

\"Slave Ayala is wounded, but she is free from her tongue-chain. She is freed from her tongue, to be specific! She is about 10 metres behind Aurelia who is leading the race. The slave Aurelia has just intimidated the dogs - I've never seen anything like that - and she is trying to find her balance again. The slave Joyce is somewhere in between her opponents; she's dragging her ball in a very uncomfortable way and I can see that her hands are bloody red from the continuous doggie attacks, but she also seems very determined. Who will win this fantastic race? What a fight!\"

Aurelia was dragging on her ball as fast as she could. The dogs were leaving her alone by now. They had learned the lesson. They had turned themselves against less dangerous preys, swarming around the Black and the Blonde. This was giving her and advantaged over them and she was decided to make good use of it. She could hear Joyce’s panting and Ayala’s moaning but she kept focused on the finish line, which was now almost in reach. She looked deeper into her body and managed to gather some extra energy. She walked faster; actually, she was almost jogging now, yanking on the ball to keep it rolling behind her. The distance between Joyce and her increased. Finally, with a scream of victory, she crossed the finish line. Exhausted, her feet in a marmalade of agony, she spat the rotten hand and let herself fall on the ground, on her back, panting hard, her proud breasts heaving up and down on her chest.

A couple of black-leather clothed, muscular men arrived to the panting slave. One of them kicked a dog in the head as it was sneaking too close. They grabbed Aurelia's shoulders and dragged the girl towards the end of the Arena, where the glass cylinders were standing already filled up with different amounts of yellowish, whitish liquids produced by the horny spectators. Aurelia had to pull her legs under her body as the rough dragging made the needles in her feet to knock against her bones and caused extreme pain even though the race was over for her.

The spectators’ attention was now entirely focused on the duel between Ayala and Joyce. Actually, there was little suspense now as the Black’s strength was obviously bleeding out fast. Each of her steps seemed to ask more energy from her. Her feet seemed heavier and heavier and the pain caused by the nasty needles was now almost unbearable. Ayala began to stagger. Her footing was unsure, she was badly limping. Realising she was weaker, the dogs gained in audacity and fierceness, leaping at her, biting her calves and thighs with their tiny jaws.

Joyce realized two things. One of them was delightful but the other was very bad. Ayala's condition and her desperate fight against the little demons made it clear to Joyce that the Black was no more an opponent. That was good. She would have felt pity for the horribly mutilated woman, but Joyce had no other choice but to concentrate on her own misery. She saw Aurelia crossing the finish line and falling on the ground. The bad thing was that Joyce had lost the race. She was shocked again, because she had quite clear a vision of what her owner would prepare for her. She felt terrified but the aching pain reminded her not to stop. Pain, even more pain was awaiting her after she returned to her sadistic master, but beyond the finish line some temporary relief was to be received. She cried and forced herself to push her limits, heading towards the line. And the line was getting closer and closer.

Way behind along the race track, Anet had somehow climbed over the stone obstacle where Kelly was awaiting her, thrusting out her breasts and swinging the flame-thrower's shaft in front of her. She smiled at Anet with a predatory grin and raised the shaft's end where the bluish flame was burning.

\"Should I help you some more or do you know what to do?\" she asked and Anet surprisingly knew her task. She headed towards the finish line, where Joyce had just fallen on the ground, exhausted, panting. Some of the dogs that were busy with Ayala's body realized there was a new target and began to run towards the terrified Anet. All of them sidestepped Kelly. They had learnt a long time ago what was the difference between a helpless slaves and the proud woman holding the burning shaft in her hands. A small pack of dogs attacked Anet all at once, striking her feet, ankles and the rotting hand hanging between Anet's legs, at the end of her tongue. And Anet started to scream and scream again, her tongue was stretched out of her mouth within a moment as three dogs started to fight for the tasty, soft human limb. Kelly just walked to the side line; she knew exactly that for a while her role was over.

Meanwhile, Ayala was abundantly drooling rosy, bubbly saliva. She was getting completely disorientated. Her madly swinging and bouncing breasts, stretched down by the heavy spike, seemed to yank her down at each step. She lifted was not lifting her feet anymore: she was dragging them through the sand. Each step was a renewed battle against her pain, her exhaustion and her fear; a battle that she fought with decreasing hope. The little dogs were driving her crazy with pain. Her tired, excruciating feet stumbled and she fell, face first into the sand. Immediately the swarm of little dogs jumped on her body. The dust filled her mouth, her nostrils, her burning eyes, making her completely blind. She found the strength to lift her torso, relieving some of the pain her breasts were feeling, crushed as they were under her chest. She dragged her right leg under her to stand up, but a terrier found it funny to grab her Achilles’ tendon ring and yank on it. Her breast spike was preventing the Black wreck from rolling over. She contorted her body in a half circle, trying to scare the little dog from her foot while kicking it with her free leg. The dog ran away with nerve-exasperating yelps. The canine swarm was whirling around her, barking excitedly at her. She shook her shoulders and, in an ultimate bounce of energy, succeeded in getting back on her sore feet.

She was now completely lost. She turned around from left to right and right to left, trying to determine where she had to go. Her sand-filled, burning eyes were now useless. She heard distinct moaning and rattling of chains and started to walk again in that direction. Alas, Joyce had passed the finish line while Ayala was still struggling with the dogs. She was now resting on the floor, immobile and silent. The sounds that the black slave was now following were produced by Anet. She was walking in the wrong direction! Each painful step was now increasing the distance to her goal, at the same time as it was sucking her energy. And all the while, the dogs kept whirling around her, ensuring she would have no chance to realise her mistake.

The dog that had stolen the rotten hand from Anet began to run, and the poor girl had no other option but to follow the speedy little devil, shrieking at the top of her lungs as her tongue was almost ripped out, as her burnt feet were forced to take the internal pressure and sharp pain radiating from its interior not to mention the pain caused by her broken toe. She was jumping mainly on one foot instead of running, but at least she was producing the fastest movement since the race had started. Anet was in too much pain to be able to realize anything but, led by the fighting dogs, she was running towards the totally blind, tottering Ayala.

Anet managed to keep her balance for a surprisingly long time, but finally she lost her step and fell onto the ground with a loud bang, next to Ayala. She was screaming pitifully and as the dogs did not stop at all, the chain tightened to its maximum. Anet's tongue was stretched out from her mouth as far as it was anatomically possible, the plasma screen showed that inhumanly agonizing moment, when her tongue reached its maximum length. Anet's screams were so high-pitched that they were more squeaks than screams. The little dogs were yanked backwards when there was no more stretching possible. Sick noises of tearing muscles were gurgling out of Anet's mouth, and suddenly her tongue was ripped in two halves, the hook piercing her flesh having torn itself through the flexible flesh.

Ayala sensed that someone was screaming next to her in the sand. And her pain-crazed, hopeless, haunted mind could figure out only one way out of her distress. There was only one chance for her to avoid being the ultimate loser... She also realised that she had been walking in the wrong direction. With nobody to indicate her the direction to follow, she understood that she would need Anet’s eyes to guide her. She crawled towards the young, whining Blonde and tried to grab the chain connected to Anet’s ball.

But gone was the proud Ayala of the beginning of the race. By then, she was still able to impose respect to a frail Anet. But now, she was just a blind, exhausted, suffering wreck and even Anet was not impressed anymore. The pain throbbing in her broken thumb toe was reminding her that Ayala had showed no pity to her when her roles had been reversed. Anet, now freed from the embarrassment of the tongue chain, and in spite of the dire pain in her wounded mouth, managed to get on her kneels. The blind Ayala was just behind her, holding her ball chain in her deformed hands. The Blonde fumbled behind herself with her bound hands, found Ayala’s breast spike and grabbed it.

“Leave me alone now, you Nigger!” she growled while twisting cruelly the spike. Ayala’s breasts were stretched around, one up and the other down, pulled by the painful bar. She screamed and immediately let go of the chain. Her widely stretched, uncontrollable anus let fall a turd and she collapsed on the ground, moaning. Anet stood up on her throbbing feet and turned around the Black suffering body. She was presenting such a pathetic spectacle. The muscle monster, the proud woman was reduced to a writhing heap of suffering flesh.

Anet grabbed her own ball and lifted it off the ground.

“Remember what you did to me, earlier?” she asked, a mad grin on her delicate face.

Ayala shook her blind face, unable to defend herself, unable to see what was happening, utterly defeated by the weakest of all the opponents she had faced during her career as an arena slave. Then Anet let her ball fall from 30 centimetres high, right upon Ayala’s toes. The helpless, defeated Black arched her body, screaming to the top of her exhausted lungs. Anet did it again, and again, hearing the sound of tiny bones been crushed to a pulp. Finally, once she was sure that not toe was left intact, she got out of her violent fury.

“See you in the loser cage, you Nigger!” Anet said as she walked towards the finish line. She was now sure that the Black could not outrun her. With no more delicacy to hope for, many of the dogs were now fighting each other for the remnants of Anet’s rotten hand and tongue. The remaining ones, ignoring Anet, were swarming around the helpless Ayala, gnawing at her crushed toes.

As Anet headed towards the finish line, Kelly was getting closer to the new last girl of the race, her blue flame glowing happily. Finally she was going to have some real rough flesh to burn.

Joyce had crossed the finish line, and this was one of the happiest moments in her young life when she could finally fall into the sand and the attacking dogs were kicked away by the masked guards. She was also - just as Aurelia - dragged towards the glass cylinders but Joyce felt relief after the vicious dogs were left behind her. No more scratching against her bleeding hands, no more pain in her throbbing feet. She raised her feet in the air while being taken by her shoulders.

Anet followed them and soon she reached the line, winning the third place. She started to cry again from happiness. Her dumb, young mind did not realize the consequences of being only the third. All she could think about was that the burning and never-ending pain in her feet were finally over.

Meanwhile Kelly stepped to Ayala and the Blonde's beautiful face was contorted in cruel, sadistic lust. Kelly loved to torture black meat. She was not only heartless and depraved but also racist. As she approached the whining, blind woman, the dogs ran away. They knew very well the demonic faced beauty and her hissing flamethrower so all of them preferred to retreat from the wounded piece of living meat. Kelly looked on Ayala's body and licked her lips. She wanted to leave Ayala in a condition that would make it possible to race in the Final Screams Arena, but she was also burning with the desire to torture her and make her inhumanly suffer.

\"You have lost, Nigger! You have fucking lost, you have become the worst of all and have your body ruined beyond usability. You have no value anymore! You're just a piece of crippled, wounded, bleeding shit! You're nothing, no more a woman but only stinking black body, totally useless! I know your Master very well, and as after this lovely race your market value became zero dot zero, he will surely do me a little favour. You will participate in the next Frying Pan race and will die there suffering the most horrible fate human can ever face! But you have some more tasks to do till then. Losers must receive their punishments! Ohhh... I've almost forgot, you're not yet a loser. You will only become one after crossing the finish line. Only twenty meters... but what a long time you'll need to get there! CRAWL!\" Kelly mocked and threatened Ayala finishing her monologue with a loud shout. And Ayala's nightmare with the most degrading acts possible went on. Kelly kicked Ayala's ass with the pointed tip of her high heels, and aimed the flame to that spot where her kick had landed. Ignoring the Black's pitiful protests she kicked her again on her bruised thigh and burnt that spot. And Ayala forced herself onto her knees - twisting her muscular body like a snake - and tried to crawl away from the hysterically laughing Kelly.

\"CRAWL BITCH, CRAWL!\" Kelly shrieked and kicked Ayala's ribs making the rings to clang. The flame kissed the black skin and Ayala screamed, gargling on her own blood. The needles were still embedded deep in her feet, every bone in her toes were broken so even crawling on her knees made every centimetre painful beyond human limits. But the hellish kisses of Kelly's flame were even worse, and Ayala totally lost her senses. All she wanted was to avoid the burning pain, to slide away from the heat; she wanted to die, to make the suffering over. But Kelly had quite different plans for her. It was easy to shepherd the whining, screaming, vomiting Ayala, she was reduced to the level of the simplest living creatures. She crawled always to the opposite direction from the last burning came, and Kelly found great fun in coaxing Ayala towards the finish line. She burnt her back, shoulders, ribs, thighs, shins and soles multiple times. Several of the spectators stood up and cheered for both Kelly and Ayala, loud applause, laughter and mocking shouts could be heard from the ringside.

And Ayala finally made it; she crawled through the line, blind, not even realizing what had happened. Round of applauses shook the Arena when she finally fell into the sand, panting and squeaking, her muscular body was trembling in total pain and total exhaustion. Kelly made a low bow towards the spectators and smiled as if she had just won an Oscar award.

\"And Slave Ayala made it finally, the race is over!\" covered Jennifer the happenings. \"I must tell you, this was one of the best races I've ever witnessed in the Pain-bringer Arena! All who stayed at home should feel sorry for missing this fantastic competition. It was obviously the last race here for an old slave, who retires as an ultimate loser. We've met with a totally worthless slave, who should be displayed in a snuff exhibition in the main square. But we also met two worthy slaves, Joyce and Aurelia, who both gave us a great show. The winner slave, Aurelia, seems to be a great talent, or I risk saying, the greatest talent for a long time. I'm pretty sure we'll see her in a dozen of upcoming races! Let's see the epilogue, when the participants have to face their popularity containers!\"

Ayala was dragged by her arms towards the cylinders where her three adversaries had already been strapped. They threw her limp body on a large horizontal tree trunk. Her wrists were strapped on each side of it, above her head, while her wrists were similarly strapped so as to stretch her, facing the sky. A fifth strap was tightened around her forehead so as to prevent any movement. Finally, a cloth peg was clamped on her nose, flattening her flaring nostrils and forcing her to breathe through her mouth.

All four slaves were similarly strapped tightly on tree trunks, her face below their respective cylinder. The glass tubes were about two metres above their face. A flexible hose ending in a wide, pear-shaped, hollow dildo hanged from them. Aurelia’s and Joyce’s bottles were mostly white. Anet’s one was of a transparent yellow shade, while Ayala’s was a mix. All four cylinders were full, amounting to a five-litre content. The dildoes were forced into their mouths and strapped in place. Four cameras were closing in on their anguished faces. Then Kelly opened all cylinders.

Immediately the dubious liquid began to pour down the hoses. Aurelia felt it entering the back of her mouth and pressing downwards. The pressure was too high to do anything. Moreover, she was terribly aware that she would have to swallow the full content before being allowed to breathe again. So she put herself to the foul task of gulping down the sticky, nauseating fluid. She gulped and gulped, her eyes fixed on the cylinder above her. Her stomach was soon filled with the smelly sperm and started to flow back up her throat into her mouth and nostrils. All openings being hermetically sealed, and as the pressure was not lowering, her stomach began to distend, her belly to swell. Pain was now added to the anguish of air deprivation.

All four slaves’ bellies were bloated grotesquely, filled with the foul gifts from their spectators. Still they kept swallowing more eagerly, as if it was the most delicious brew they had ever drunk. At last, the cylinders were emptied. Aurelia took several deep breaths, relishing the fresh air filling once more her burning lungs. Still she felt sick and nauseous. Her belly was bloated as if she was four-month pregnant and she felt the urge to puke it all. She vomited a bit but as it filled her mouth, her breathing once again was cut. She hastily drunk it all back and now devoted all her attention into keeping it down.

The four slaves were left there for 15 minutes, until they all had learned to control her vomiting reflex and most of their beverage had left their stomachs to fill their bowels. Only then were the poor exhausted slaves freed from the trunks. Kelly began to pull out the needles from the tormented feet, she used pincers, grabbed the tips and with fast, powerful yanks she freed the feet from the pain-generating simple tools. She did that with six feet, but two remained fancied with the needles. The losers' fate.

Kelly stepped to the horribly tormented Black girl, she barked a command and one of the guards forced Ayala's mouth open by grabbing her fat lips. A quite big portion of her lower lip was missing just as the tip of her tongue, both wounds were still bleeding slightly though the thick layer of whitish cum coating salved the bloody holes. Kelly held the red hot nozzle of her torch to Ayala's lower lip, the hot metal sizzled and some smoke emerged. Ayala squeaked and tensed against the guard but she was held tightly. Kelly repeated the process on Ayala's tongue, cauterizing the wound, stopping the bleeding and causing almost unbearable pain to the heavily mutilated and mentally destroyed slave. Puffs of smoke raised from the girl's mouth and while she was screaming with fluttering nostrils small puffs of smoke found their way through her nose too. Finally the masked guards placed a wide choking collar once again around Ayala’s neck. The loser’s collar as it was nicknamed. The same one they had all experienced before the race.

As soon as it began to constrict the Black’s throat and windpipe, she opened wide her mouth, begging for something to be shoved in her throat to allow her to breath. The guard comforted her by shoving the handle of his whip far into her throat. The thick leather object stretched her tissues so that, when the man yanked it off, some air was allowed to pass. Ayala took several deep breaths. As her throat constricted slowly under the pressure of the collar, her breathing got more hissing and laboured. One minute later, she was strangling once again and begging for release. The guard laughed and this time he shoved a long, hollow, wooden dildo down her throat. This one allowed the miserable girl to breathe freely.

“Now, I advise you not to lose your little friend, if you don’t want to die a slow, horrible death” he mocked, tapping gently on the end of the dildo. “Now, let’s go to the slave pits. I believe their feet need a thorough washing.”

\"Go Tony, start the punishment! I will find you and take the remains of the hands with me, between two feet Ayala will surely like eating something not only licking dirt.\" Kelly said to the guard before she turned back to other three girls. Big mugs of warm fat were waiting for Anet and Joyce. After litres of cum and piss their stomachs were still to be challenged.

Chapter XIII – Ayala's punishment

Authors: Noemi Salvadge & Aurelie Catena

English corrected by JP

Authors' emails: Noya2929 [at] gmail [dot] com), Aurelie [dot] Catena[at] gmail [dot] com

Tags:M/f, M/f+, F/f, F/f+, interracial, modification, snuff, Tit Torture, feet, slavery, bondage, real, torture, nc, Extreme

Ayala was led out by a muscular, hideous mask-wearing male guard. His name was Tony, and Tony just loved his work. He was only 25-year-old but despite his age, he had already spent more than six years in the French foreign legion. His heart had been killed, he had seen so many cruelty and inhuman, soulless acts during his stay in Africa that nothing could ever reach his conscience. He had become heartless and cruel himself, and females were nothing more than animals who must be treated as such; especially the Black ones. He had learnt that Ashagen contained two types of females: The citizens and the slaves, and the first category was taboo. He often felt an almost invincible urge to beat Kelly to a bloody pulp. The shapely bottomed blonde's provocative behaviour was a great turn-on to him and fuelled his sadistic lust, but fortunately Tony had hundreds of other women to play with so he could hold his dangerous attitude back. Slaves were nothing. Unfortunately the rest of the slaves in the Arena's pits belonged to other citizens so too heavy treatment was not allowed, but in special cases it wasn't a problem if he broke the limits. And the Black bitch who was stumbling along on her needle-pierced and severely-burnt feet was the kind of slave that was intended to be roughly treated. Really rough! And Tony liked that.

After a long walk for Ayala that covered only a short distance, they entered the first pit, under the auditorium. Ayala's feet were almost totally incapable of carrying her weight. They had only walked ten metres when the Black slave fell on the ground and was unable to stand up again. They were still in the Arena and the spectators who were waiting for the next race found great pleasure in mocking the unfortunate woman. Tony had to remove the needles from Ayala's feet, because she was in too much pain and Tony had no intention of carrying her heavy body. Once all needles had been dropped in the sand, Ayala could make it again, stood up and headed towards the entrance of the pits, but her walk remained crippled, and very funny for several spectators and Tony too.

The first pit was a small and narrow, windowless room, with only a few lamps providing a dim light. The stench was awful for Tony, but Ayala, who had spent days in places like this and had just been forced to keep a rotting hand in her mouth, had been forced to drink litres of stinky piss and mixed cum, smelled nothing. Her olfactory receptors had been snuffed long time ago.

Six cubic cages were hanging from the ceiling, and every cage contained one body. Six human males, six men were caged there. Their legs were hanging under the cages from knee down through the spaces between the bars, their toes were about half a metre above the floor. The cages were too small for the muscular and seemingly young men; they were forced into the cages in obviously painful positions, arms, backs, chests and faces were pushed against the cold metal bars. Their testicles were also hanging under the cages. Sharply serrated alligator clips were attached to the skin of their sacks, and big iron balls were hanging from them. The sacs were stretched to their limits and it seemed that they had elongated proportionally to the time spent. One of the men had such extremely-stretched sacs that his testicles were hanging at almost the same level as his feet. Blood was dripping from the sacs and all six men were moaning pitifully. The stone floor under the cages was blackened, a clear proof of former fires lit on those spots. Two guys' feet were full of blisters and reddened and even blackened spots. Strange, yellowish fluids were leaking from the popped blisters and the skin was peeling off on big spots.

Tony playfully tapped Ayala's throat dildo and suddenly slapped her so hard, that the woman fell onto the ground and a new bruise started to form on her cheek.

\"Here they're. You will be their foot slave for the upcoming hours. You're going to lick all these twelve feet until they're polished shiny and glistening like clean gold. Meanwhile I might fuck your ass, supposing I can withdraw that tube from it.\"

With that, he pulled the hollow dildo out of her mouth and gave it to the man locked in the first cage. The prisoner took the dildo avidly, his tired eyes glowing as they starred at the Black’s squatting body. “Come here, baby. Suck on my feet if you want your toy back.”

Ayala’s eyes grew wide as the dildo was yanked from her throat. She could already feel her throat tightening. She immediately force herself to straighten up on her knees. With her arms chained in her back and the heavy bar passing through her breasts weighing her down, it was not an easy task, but she had grown used to it and had reached a decent level of proficiency. Groaning continuously, the bar and her breasts bouncing, the rings of her elongated inner lips rattling on the floor, she crawled towards the first cage.

The man was stinking like nothing she had ever smelled. It felt horrid even to her saturated smell receptors. These men had probably not bathed in one year. Sweat and filth was literally dripping from them. Putting her disgust aside, Ayala opened wide her mouth and shoved the left foot into her mouth. Gagging, she tried to push it as far as she could, forcing her own jaws apart, stretching her cheeks, until she could feel the toes pressing against her throat. She pushed further and managed to widen her slowly constricting gullet. Retching, she pulled her head backwards, pulling the feet out. A thread of saliva linked her lips to the toes. She breathed as deeply as she could and then began to lick the foot. She passed her tongue between the toes, under the sole, over the foot. As her breath was once again reduced to a trickle, she rapidly switched to the next foot and shoved it deep into her throat, widening her gullet once more.

This was the moment Tony chose to attack her from behind. He shoved two fingers in her rectum and hooked them to the corkscrewed piece of steel that was keeping her anus gaping. He yanked on it with all his strength, with no other result than extracting a long scream of pain from the poor black slave. Tony had then to cope with it and just pushed his hard cock into her hole. This one was sufficiently narrow to pleasure his cock. After a couple of minutes of hard humping, Tony came into the Black’s rectum, filling her with his sperm. Satisfied, he left the cell, leaving Ayala to perform her duties alone.

Ayala worked hard on the man’s foot while she could still breathe more or less freely. Once the foot was shining with her saliva, she looked upward and asked: “Please, give me back my dildo so that I can go to the next cage.”

The man grinned and answered: “See my balls? They need some washing too. Then I’ll give you back your toy.”

Ayala growled but she had no other option but to comply. She shoved once more the foot into her throat to widen her gullet. She took several deep breaths and then brought her face to the dangling testicles. She swallowed them, retching at the salty, sweaty, hairy thing. But then, instead of licking the filthy sacs, she clenched her teeth on them and mumbled around them: “Gimme ‘ack ‘y ‘ildo!” She punctuated her order with a threatening yank on the already stretched balls. Several of Ayala's teeth were broken or missing but that made her bite even more painful for the prisoner, the sharp edges of the broken teeth cut the surface of the sacs easily and made the man groan in pain.

\"Stoooop! Stooop you fucking bitch! Releaseeee meeeeee!\" the man shrieked as Ayala tightened the grip, drawing blood from the already tortured and unnaturally stretched sacs. The man was shaking inside his small cage, the pain caused by Ayala made him drop the dildo, which fell and landed right in front of the girl with a loud, rattling sound.

Ayala let go of the bruised testicles and threw herself eagerly on the tubular dildo. She had to push her face against the floor, like a pig looking for truffles, to be able to grab the thick dildo, first with her lips, then with her teeth. Then, she rested the dildo’s handle against a seam in the floor to push it up her mouth and into her throat. Immediately fresh air flowed into her longing lungs and she let out a sigh of relief.

Sid was smiling widely. He was only twenty years old and had been a slave of Ashagen for more than a year. He used to be a model and had caught the attention of someone. He had been kiddnapped and taken to the city where Sid's life had changed drastically. Around 80 percents of the slaves were females but sometimes male slaves were recruited too, as several of Ashagen's citizens loved both sex, only a few of them were drawn solely to men. Sid was straight in the beginning but he had met so many weird people in Ashagen that his sexual affinity had soon changed to bisexual. He was simply raped too many times in the ass or in the mouth that he got used to the sight, touch, taste and smell of cocks.

Whatever, the horribly tortured and modified body of the Black slave squatting under his buddy excited Sid. Before he was dragged to Ashagen Sid had considered himself as a normal guy without perversions. After one year in the city he was trained to think much differently.

Sid was old furniture in the PainBringer Arena, his tasks were taking part in different kinds of torture games where the competitors had to endure sexual abuses and those acts were made by slaves, mainly because of risks that would not be taken by protected citizens. So Sid had seen hundreds of different torture and rape games during his stay in the Arena. He had been an active participant of those often disgusting and inhumanly degrading acts, and his once healthy mind had slowly deformed. He had become similar to the citizens, his sadistic and perverted side awoke and was let to rage. Hanging in a tiny cage or being immobilized in any other position was not fun. Torturing and fucking other unfortunate slaves became the goal of his life, the only thing that could make him feel alive and happy. His only entertainment was in the hell created by Kelly and her companions. So Sid was staring with lustful eyes at the Black bitch polishing the smelly feet, and sick thoughts were swirling in his mind.

When the Black finally got back her throat dildo and crawled towards him, Sid smiled wildly. He wiggled his toes and a fantasy flashed through his mind: his whole foot was pushed deep inside the bitch's rectum and he could felt the warmness of her body. Sid had not got any kindness, any comfort from Kelly. He had only got pain, suffering, degradation and humiliation, so the upcoming act of having his feet licked and sucked by a woman made him happy and he could hardly wait for the act to begin.

\"You're so pretty, black flower!\" he greeted Ayala. Sid was dirty, his had been handsome once but that year had made him look like a bum, or even worse, like Quasimodo.

Ayala glared at him over her mouth distorted by the penis-gag as she crawled towards him. Arrived under his cage, she put the gag on the floor, carefully letting it stand on its butt so that it would be easier later to recover it. Already she could feel the anguishing sensation of her throat tightening. She was such a wreck, slave to so dull a device as this hollow gag. These thoughts made her furious.

\"Shut up! Black flower, my ass! I have a job to do and I'll do it fast and well. That's all\" she spat angrily.

\"Come ooon! Why are you soo rough? We have the same interest here...\"

\"We don't. You are here snoozing in your cage while I have to wash your feet. You have no idea how it feels to have your body loaded with metal and aching with every move. Now, hold your feet still or I chew your fucking balls as I did with your buddy there!\" Ayala answered, her voice changing slowly as her throat constricted.

\"As you wish! You can tear my balls and fucking slurp all my blood, but I won't be such a coward as Hank! Now give me that shit or I call for the guard!\"

\"Gimme your feet and stop talking!\" Ayala in a strange, half-whispering voice. Anxiousness could be read on her ring-covered face.

\"Now... unfortunately I'm missing a nice pedicure for almost a year or so...\" he said and wiggled his toes. His toenails were long, shattered, covered with dirt and yellowish. His toes were also hairy and dirty, calluses and small mounds of fungous infections covered the skin. \"As you're the very first person in a long time who could give me some kind treatment please, soften up those horn and bite off my toenails first... I want to be a pretty guy again!\" he said and smiled like and idiot, wiggling his toes in front of Ayala's face.

Ayala was hating it, but the relentless pressure on her throat, her breathing that had already begun to hiss left her no choice. She had been given a task and she knew there would be no rest for her until she had completed it. And she would need rest for the on-coming Final Screams show. She eagerly swallowed Sid's foot until she could feel his toes stretching her wind pipe. Her ringed nostrils flared as she filled her lungs with the smelly air surrounding the man's filthy, cheesy feet. With her lungs satisfied, she started to lick and suck on the toes and foot pads, coating them in her sparse saliva.

Ayala got busy enough with her disgusting task. Sid's stinking toes stunned not only her smelling senses but her ears too, as her desperate attempts of keeping the toes deep inside her throat made her listening to her blood running in her own veins. She did not hear when the cell's door was reopened and Tony returned with seven awfully dirty, hairy and stinking male slaves from a neighbour cell. All newcomer men were naked, their bodies were covered with bruises, wounds, burn marks and they were covered in their own excrement. Their big toes were missing and some of the new guys had still leaking, purulent wounds where the toes had been. Their wrists were chained together against their chests, but no other device or mutilation restricted their movement. One after the other they marched into the cell, staring with craving eyes at the kneeling, foot throating Black.

\"Gentlemen!\" Tony shouted and Ayala finally recognized that the room was filled. \"After your success yesterday in breaking those bitches in the Arena, I grant you a reward. This shit here is Slave Ayala, loser of the previous game. Her task is to clean EVERY foot in the stables... including yours. Feel free to take your time with her and enjoy that meaty body of hers! Go! Work!\" he ordered and the seven freaks groaned in excitement. All of them were missing their tongues but their teeth were flashing wildly as they grinned and walked towards Ayala. None of them could run without big toes, but as they got through the short distance from the door to the terrified Ayala, their cocks were rock hard. Strong hands grabbed the helpless girl's shoulders and yanked her from Sid's feet.

Ayala grunted in sheer terror at the sight of the pitiful wrecks that were now attacking her. She realised that she was even more a wreck than them and that there was no way she could protect herself against their assaults. One of them had already taken possession of the hollow penis-gag she had carefully put on the floor. She struggled with all her might but chained and pierced as she was, and with so many hands pulling on her limbs and hair, there was little she could do.

Ayala was forced onto her back and one greasy foot on her forehead pinned her head to the cold floor. Another foot was forced deep inside her mouth, stretching her fat, wounded lips widely. She gagged on it, feeling her jaws parted painfully wide. The stench was tremendous. Her nostrils were flaring as she tried to shake her head free. The foot pressing against her forehead was half blocking her sight.

Her legs were raised high and immobilized by strong arms while a kneeling slave yanked the tube out of Ayala's black pussy. Blood, dirt and unidentified body fluids sprayed into all direction as the long time ago embedded iron was finally removed from her tortured hole. She howled in deep agony and her strong body arched and bucked against the damp floor. She felt too other slaves seizing the ends of her breast spike and holding her down with it.

The slave with the longest, really threatening-sized cock knelt in front of the Black woman's trembling crotch and pumped his member deep inside the well-stretched but sore and bleeding cunt. Ayala's screamed in anger and agony, the muscles bulging under her black, greasy skin. She wanted to beg them to stop, to remind them they were all slaves and should not abuse each other, but all she could was slurp the dirty foot raping her mouth while trying to steal some fresh air whenever the foot left enough room between it and her stretched, pierced lips.

Another guy stood above Ayala's head and suddenly a strong burst of yellow, stinky piss splashed against Ayala's face, wetting her nose, cheeks and the fellow's foot what was almost ankle deep forced into the poor woman's oral cavity. She moaned under this ultimate degradation. The urine was burning her eyes, filling her nostrils with acrid stench and soaking her hair and face.

The men took turns working on her, never leaving her a chance of getting some rest. One after the other, they emptied their bladders and testicles onto and into her body, filling her with sperm and filth. Her struggles became weaker and weaker as pain and exhaustion were taking their toll. By the time they all had a chance to ejaculate twice into her, she was left on her back, panting heavily, covered with sperm and dripping with urine. One of the males had shoved back her penis-gag to allow her to breathe while they rested.

As she regained some energy, she began to move a little, trying to change her position.

\"Look at this lazy bitch!\" said Tony. \"Resting on the floor instead of working!\" With that, he ripped the gag out of her mouth, relishing the look of fear this cruel act arose in her bulging eyes. Holding the gag in clear view, he walked to the opposite side of the cell. \"Want your toy? Want to breathe? Just come here, baby!\"

Groaning in pain and frustration, and already feeling her throat tightening, Ayala forced her sore limbs to move and contorted herself to a kneeling position. She began to crawl toward the man who was holding her breathing tube, her multiple chains and piercing rattling along the way. As she arrived close to the man, he extended his arms towards her face, as for shoving the gag into her welcoming, sperm-drooling mouth, but at the last moment, he threw the gag away. It bounced against the far wall and fell on the floor.

With a roar of frustration and anger, Ayala turned and began to hurry towards the object that would stretch again her throat which was now only letting a thin trickle of air into her tired lungs. Her knees were raw from so much crawling. Her heavy, weighted breasts were swinging as she forced herself to move forward. All the tongueless, crippled slaves and the others hanging in their small cages burst into roaring laughter as they were watching Ayala's desperate crawling as the poor girl strived to get to the corner where her breathing tube lie on the floor. One of the men who had raped the woman and made her swallow his sturdy foot almost to her stomach decided not to let the slave reach the tool. He suddenly stepped into Ayala's way and kicked her hard in the face, making her nose crack again.

Ayala fell flat on her belly, crushing her spiked breasts under her, moaning and spitting blood. The pressure on her windpipe was scaring her. Her ribcage was pumping hard to force some air into her lungs by now, producing a shrilling hiss. As her attacked limped away, she struggled to her knees once again. The process was horribly painful as she had to brace herself upon the long spike transfixed through her heavy breasts. Also, the rings at the end of her elongated labia invariably got entangled in something, yanking painfully on her sex. By the time she started again her crawling, her throat had closed completely and the desperate heaves of her chest were to no avail. Her eyes began to bulge as she hasted her pace.

Finally, she reached her gag, but just as she was struggling to get it back into her mouth, her butt high in the air and her breasts pressed into the damp floor, another slave found it funny to kick into the filthy dildo, shooting it across the room. Ayala would have screamed in frustration if only her burning lungs and constricted throat had allowed it. Instead, she just produced a strange, gargling groan and started again crawling towards her gag.

Her lungs were burning, her sight was getting tunnelled and darker, panic was pulsating throughout her whole being. Halfway across the cell, her legs denied her support and she crashed on the stone floor. She squirmed there, trying to push herself using only her toes, with little success. Her mouth was gaping wide in her vain attempts to suck air in her longing lungs. Her eyes were bulging out, her face was sheer panic. A black veil descended upon her eyes and a last bout of lucidity made her thank Death to free her from her inhuman fate.

She was awoken with strong slaps on her face. Her eyes blinked open and she realised that the gag was in and that she was breathing freely. Tony was sitting upon her belly, bent over her, looking at her. Her eyes had barely opened that he yanked the penis-gag out of her throat and threw it away.

This cruel game lasted for several cycles of crawling and passing-out. However, the cycles were getting shorter as Ayala's strength declined. The black girl had been turned into a zombie. As the fun decreased accordingly, Tony revived its interest by changing the rule: instead of throwing the gag away, he pushed one of the male slaves on his back, lifted his legs and shoved it into his anus.

\"Get it and we'll leave you alone!\" her ordered, his command welcomed by a burst of laughter.

Desperately, Ayala crawled to this ultimate humiliation, under the luscious and grinning stares of her fellow slaves. She pressed her face against the sweaty crotch of the slave. Her gag was barely protruding out of his anus. She seized it with her teeth and had to pull hard to get it out. Then she still had to spit it and grab it again from the other end, until she was finally able to press it all the way down her gullet, allowing her aching lungs to fill again.

Tony nodded, he was satisifed with Ayala's treatment. As soon as the woman pushed the tube back into her throat, raping her own windpipe with it, Tony opened the door and shepherded the toeless slaves out of the cell.

\"As I see, there are still four pairs of unwashed, hanging feet in this cell, Slave! I'll be back in 10 minutes and want all of those feet glistening and shiny! If I find a single spot, a little piece of dirt on them, you will regret you were born!\" he hissed and the cell's door closed with a loud bang.

Ayala, in spite of her exhaustion, tried her best to obey this order. She carefully licked the feet of the remaining caged slaves. Between each cage, she swallowed again her penis-gag and indulged into several lungful of stinking air before working on the next slave. The taste of the recently burnt and almost crispy soles were worse than any other. Ayala had to slurp in the earlier melted and refrozen body fat of the male slaves and big pieces of destroyed, charred pieces of skin were to be bitten off where the blisters had popped. She had never experienced such an awful and putrid taste, it was even worse than keeping the rotting hand in her mouth. Whatever, she kept on licking and sucking and cleaning the dripping, horribly tortured human limbs. All she wanted was the relief of being alone and quit the continous acts of humiliation and torture. She had barely washed the second foot of the last man when the cell door opened again.

Tony arrived and for Ayala’s real terror Kelly followed him. She looked at the blonde demoness with wild open eyes. In the last months of never ending pain and screams, Kelly had caused the most suffering to Ayala, and actually Kelly was the one whose wicked ideas and evil advices had transformed her into the freak she now was. Tony walked behind the Black girl and grabbed her face from both sides, applying heavy pressure to her cheek bones. The breathing dildo portruded grotesquely from her lips, Ayala’s slurping breaths were clearly audible. All of the male slaves became rigid and silent. Kelly’s presence made them shaking in their cages and gave them motivation to avoid attracting any attention. Kelly walked around the room and carefully, very patiently inspected the feet of all prisoners. Suddenly she stepped back and stared at Ayala perplexedly.

„Slave Ayala! You’re disappointing me! You left dirt under this man’s toenails!” Kelly hissed and pointed with her long index finger to Sid’s feet. „What a worthless, lazy bitch you are!” she said and suddenly landed a kick right between Ayala’s breasts, her pointed boot pressured out the air from the girl’s lungs. „Fuck you, cunt!” she slapped Ayala’s face with a second strike, drawing blood with her sharp nails from under the thin skin below Ayala’s eyes.

„Fortunately I don’t need to punish you because of this as you have already deserved the special punishment granted to the loser. I sense you’re not too hungry after swallowing so much sperm, piss, dirt and flakes of skin, but your real „reward” is still on the menu! Two rotten hands and the roasted tits from yesterday’s FinalScream Games are still waiting for you...” she smiled and as she turned around she let the pointed end of her heel sank deep into Ayala’s thigh, drawing blood again.

„Bring her, it’s time to meet her lunch!” she ordered and Tony dragged Ayala to her feet. They left the cell, Kelly was leading the line, Ayala followed behind and Tony was closing the line, entertaining himself by „accidentally” stepping onto Ayala’s heel-rings from time to time. Ayala was limping between them, her back humped because of the weight dangling from her sore breasts, her elongated labia bouncing against her thighs as she walked.

Chapter XIV - The dinner

Authors: Noemi Salvadge & Aurelie Catena

English corrected by JP

Authors' emails: Noya2929 [at] gmail [dot] com), Aurelie [dot] Catena[at] gmail [dot] com

Tags:M/f, M/f+, F/f, F/f+, interracial, modification, snuff, Tit Torture, feet, slavery, bondage, real, torture, nc, Extreme

The sun was shining brightly, and the exhausted women lay panting in the hot sand for a long, very long time. The needles had already been removed from their aching feet but the burn marks and dozens of bites were still throbbing, not to mention their tortured and aching tongues. Their bellies were bulging from the forced gulping of litres of sperm and piss. Altogether, all three of them had had the worst time of their life. Their hands were chained together behind their back but otherwise no other bondage had been applied. The audience was drinking coctails while several guards started to reshuffle the scenery of the Arena. Another race was about to be arranged and other unfortunate slaves were to suffer inhuman pain and degradation in front of the cumming spectators.

Soon a small electronic cart rolled to the sweating slaves and two leather-clad muscular guard tossed the girls onto the top of the vessel. One of the guards stepped at the rear of the cart and they began their way back to the stables. Joyce was laying next to Aurelia, her pretty face was a mask of misery. She was bathing in her own sweat and a thick layer of sand clave to her shapely body. When their eyes met, Joyce smiled wearily.

’You were great...’ she whispered in a low voice. ’I’m so sorry that I wanted to... you know... hurt you. Usually I don’t... bite the ankles of other girls...’ she said.

\"Don't be sorry. It was fair game. I kicked you in the face...\" Aurelia answered in the same tone.

’No, it was my fault, I shouldn’t have attacked you...’

\"These peoples are driving us crazy... They drag the worst instincts out of us. So much pain, so much cruelty...\"

\"You’re so nice... these sick bastards transform us into struggling animals! But we need to keep our humanity... at least when we don’t fight...\" she whispered, but the guard at the back of the cart caught their sounds.

„Shut the fuck up cunts! Who gave you permission to fucking use your whore mouth??? I'll gut you and make you chew on your own ass!!!” he roared and this quite tough future consequence ended the women’s conversation. But Joyce rubbed her sole against Aurelia’s ankle; that touch had no sexual meaning. Joyce was just terrified and needed someone strong and tough.

The young secret agent touched the Blonde's sole with her toes in a comforting move. In an even lower voice, barely audible even to Joyce, she said: \"Collect energy, rest as much as you can. Be ready for an occasion to escape. We might help each other.\" She punctuated this exhortation with a blink.

The cart rolled through the dim corridors, passing dozens of heavy wooden doors. They also left three people behind. Aurelia could peek over the small edge of the cart and recognized a guard who was escorting the naked Ayala and the proudly walking Kelly. Kelly waved to the driver who returned the gesture. They finally arrived into a big and suprisingly bright and clean room. A huge and beautiful chandelier was hanging from the centre of the ceiling, and a big, antique, round table stood right under it. The room had marble walls and tessellated pavement. Beautiful, white statues were standing against the walls; most of them illustrated copulating humans and half-human half-animal figures in all possible mix. Several people were sitting around the table, forming a semi-circle, so half of the table remained empty. Glasses, bottles, plates and several trays covered the table, all of them were filled with wine, juice, champagne and fruits, all kinds of mouth-watering foods from lobsters and caviar to roast joints and fancy cakes. The appetizing smell of the rich feast made the girls sigh in craving, but the awful taste of the recently swallowed excrement and sperm reminded them of their position.

In front of the full plates of heavenly dishes, neatly-clothed men and women were sitting, drinking and cheering. The cart stopped and all three girls were kicked in the ribs by the guards.

„Get off, bitches! Get off!” he snarled.

Aurelia got off the cart, looking around herself. She recognized known faces around the table. Somewhere in the middle Tyros was drinking red wine and smiled wildly, he looked quite happy. On his right, Laura was sitting and when her eyes met with Aurelia’s she blinked playfuly. Aurelia also recongized Torana who was talking with an older man, and she also faced the girl called Jennifer, who was standing at the end of the sitting people’s line with a microphone in her thin fingers.

„The loser will arrive soon.” Jennifer told a man who nodded and grinned. So the three girls were standing trembling in front of the Ashagen citizens and the same thought was swirling in their mind; what’s next?

The citizens were chatting and sometimes had a short peek at the slaves, but nobody paid real attention to them. Neither Joyce nor Anet dared to move or say anything, but their terrified face and worrying glances indicated quite clearly who were those among the guests who were their owners or at least with whom they had suffered very very bad experiences. A truly handsome man around the age of forty wearing an elegant and expensive suit was sitting not too far from the trembling slaves, and his steel glances towards Joyce made it clear that he was angry. His cutting eyes promised nothing good for the blonde girl. He even grimaced after gulping down a shot of whiskey and measuring Joyce's sweating body. That almost invisible gesture made the Blonde shake and even moan in low voice. Aurelia heard something and realized that the generally strong-willed girl was pissing herself, a thin stream of yellow urine was flowing down her long legs. Finding Anet's owner was even more simpler: the young girl was almost unable to turn away her pretty face when the old, bearded and very big man grinned at her. She started to sob silently and some tear drops appeared in the corners of her yes. Aurelia felt Laura's eyes gawking at her body from time to time, and even Tyros, who seemed a bit slightly drunk, had short peeks at her. The coldness of these gazes seemed to transfix her heart as they contained as much satisfaction with her victory as a strong desire to torture her. She lowered her eyes and looked down at her toes, trying to let her mind relax. She badly needed to collect her thoughts and mental strength if she was to stay ready to seize any occasion that might present itself.

A minute later, the strange threesome arrived. Ayala looked around. During her gang-rape and humiliation in the male slaves' cell, her face had been washed cleanly with litres of human piss, and her continually gazing, forced-open eyes were blood-red and aching from the acid piss. An Arabian man wearing a turban stood up and walked towards the Black cripple. Tony and Kelly stayed away. The man's face was a mass of cruelty, hatred and anger, as he stared at the poor Ayala for long moments. The girl began to shake almost uncontrollably, despite the horrendous horrors she had faced in the last hours. This man clearly incarnated her worst fears.

\"You wreck...\" he said in a low but chilly voice. \"Useless Afro-American nigger. You have betrayed me. You lost with intent, you shamed me and caused me big money loss...\" he counted Ayala's fake sins. The room was totally silent, everyone was listening to Ayala's owner carefully.

Ayala was shaking like a leaf by now. She was barely able to see the man through her urine-burnt eyes but she felt the hate and cruelty radiating from him. Her bowels began to churn and a loud fart left her destroyed anus as a trickle of piss flew down her legs.

The man grimaced in disgust and suddenly spat into Ayala’s face. He kept the distance between them, taking care not to touch the stinking woman.

„You shamed me. So you’ll be punished. Your punishment of being the loser will be executed right now and here. Your punishment of shaming me will be your last punishment ever. You will race in the Final Screams Arena very very soon, and you will die there!” he said and spat into her face again.

Ayala's shoulders dropped. She had known this was going to happen. She had done her best to avoid this fate but now it was on her. Her end was close. She would die the most horrible death, in the utmost cruel way.

He turned around and walked back to his seat. Aurelia caught Kelly’s facial expression; the cruel woman was grinng widely; it was a wide, unnatural and absolutely unfeminine smile; as if she were a cruel child who got a little cat for her birthday, ready to be butchered.

As soon as the man took seat, Jennifer switched on her mic and with a charming smile started to speak, her young, fresh voice filling the hall.

„Citizens of Ashagen! Welcome to this fantastic complimentary feast given in honour of today’s Heavy Feet Race. The Arena’s keeper, Herr Waffer...” an older, thin and tall man wearing an old-fashioned Nazi officer uniform nodded „...was so much delighted after the intensity of the race that he decided to invite you all to this special event. Owners of the participant slaves, friends of the Arena and their friends, you’re all welcome. While we’re eating, the well-deserved punishment of the slaves will be carried out. The newest and seemingly very motivated talent of the arena slaves, slave Aurelia, will help the guards to complete the punishments! Guards! Prepare the slaves! Our beloved guests! Enjoy your meal!” she finished and half a dozen of masked guards stepped to the girls within a moment.

One wooden and very strange device was dragged to the empty side of the huge dining table and was raised onto it. It was an about two-metre-long thing with three horizontal planks placed at three different levels, approximately sixty centimetres high altogether. The ends of the planks were connected by two pairs of metal rods. The lowest plank supported the rods and it was also punctured just as the table below it. Two guards drove huge bolts into the plank, securing the device to the table. The middle and the upper planks could be moved up and down, sliding along the rods. Small locks could secure them in place, blocking any vertical movement. The middle plank was locked about thirty centimetres above the base plank.

Joyce, Ayala and Anet were shepherded to the strange device. The guards forced them onto their knees until their waists were at the level of the table and their breasts rested on the middle plank. Both Joyce and Ayala understood what was coming, only Anet proved to be dumb enough.

„What... what’s this..??” she asked in a trembling voice and only some laughter arrived in a reply from the eating citizens. Two guards loosened the upper plank and let is slide down until it reached the breasts of the slaves. Ayala had by far the largest tits so the plank rested at an angle; but not for long. On both ends, the two muscular men started to push the plank downwards and Ayala’s metal stuffed breasts started to flatten.

Ayala's blood-injected eyes bulged out of her skull as her breasts were flattened. She could feel the glands crushed, squeezed, squashed, imprisoned between the planks and the spikes. Her dark udders were large enough to be ballooning in front of the planks, their skin as taut as a drum's. She let out a long, echoing scream, imitated by her misfortune companions. She contorted her arms in her back to no avail. She was securely stuck to the table by the inhuman vice grip. Her face was almost unrecognizable so much it was deformed by her grimaces of agony.

No matter how small breasts Anet had, she felt them flattened to the point when they were almost as thin as a piece of paper causing her unbelievable agony. Actually, the planks pressured their breasts as flat as Ayala's big boobs the metal spike skewered into those large udders let them, which made Anet's small tits flattened extremely. Joyce suffered the same, her eyes were full of tears and she sobbed loudly. The tips of her medium sized, shapely breasts were portruding from between the closely-locked planks, the bulging part was flattened too but still much rounder. Within a minute they became angry red that soon changed to blue and finally to dark purple. Her nipples stood erect, never in her life had her nipples been filled with high pressure blood so intensely. She had already suffered a lot but having her sensitive tits tortured so cruelly was totally different. Her hands were still chained behind her back just as the other two losers', but she was immobilizied only by her breasts and she had to realize that every tiny move she attempted to make caused immediate and sharp pain in her chest. No matter how painfully were her breasts throbbing, the consequences of wiggling turned the situation even worse.

The girls were facing the eating citizens, who were chitchatting, drinking and swallowing juicy bites while they could amuse themselves at the sight of the crying, suffering slaves. A few minutes later, when the flattened breasts' colour had turned to a sick purple, Kelly arrived holding a big tray. She placed the tray onto the table so everyone could see it. Jennifer gulped down a piece of raw steak and walked beside the kneeling slaves.

\"There we are, the punishment is just about to begin\" she declared in her microphone, smiling at the feasting people. \"In this two, glass bowls we have melted and, as I see, quite hot fat. I was told that the fat was produced from the body of perished slaves, so we can state that slaves Joyce and Anet are going to gulp down a full bowl of hot, human fat very soon\" she said while peering at the Arena's keeper who nodded and confirmed that human fat was going to be poured onto the poor girls. \"On this plate I see two... very stinking rotting hands, the remnants of another slave and the hands that were used during the race. These disgusting pieces of meat are waiting for slave Ayala to be devoured. Under this lid...\" she raised a semi-sphere lid from another plate \"..there is a mutilated and half-roasted black tit! My God! I'm afraid it is waiting for Ayala too, am I right?\" she asked and Kelly confirmed.

\"Slave Aurelia! You're the winner of the race so it's your reward to make these bitches eat and drink what is necessary. Climb onto the table, let the citizens admire your slut body!\" she ordered and the guards unchained Aurelia's wrists. she was free to move... but surrounded by several guards and peoples. \"Dear Guests! It is slave Aurelia's task to stuff the..errr... let's say dinner into the losers' mouth, but you're also welcome to come here and help the slaves in swallowing their food. There is only one rule; only the owner of a specific slave has the right to permanently hurt or kill her; but otherwise you're free to enjoy their feeding and make them feed faster.\" Jennifer finished. She then nodded and a cart was rolled by the slaves. It was full of different kinds of torture equipment. Needles and pins, two leather whips (both designed to cause extreme pain while avoiding too serious damages), some pliers, candles with matches, hooks, straps, chains and cuffs of all kind.

Aurelia caught Laura's eyes again. The blonde dominatrix smiled charmingly and blinked at Aurelia. Her smile was beautiful but somehow wicked. The message was clear: Aurelia was given her first chance to prove how cruel she could be...

Aurelia felt her heart clenching. She was trapped. A quick glance around her had already told her that there was little hope of escaping this place. They were in the dungeons of the arena, which was full of guards and of locked doors. She was alone, naked, exhausted and wounded. She would have to comply with the orders. Her only hope was to convince Laura to hire her and allow her some freedom. For that, she would have to torture her former cell-mates. She hated this idea but she really had no choice.

Joyce's owner was the first who jumped from his seat and went to the slaves. He took a needle in his hands, grabbed Joyce wrists and forced the poor girl's arms upwards, making her head bend forward. He cruelly grabbed the whining Joyce's left thumb, separated from the other fingers, and placed the pointed tip of the needle where her fingernail and nail bed were connected.

\"You fucking piece of shit! You lost! You lost my money!\" he grinned while starting to push slowly the needle deeper and deeper under Joyce's nail. The girl started to scream and scream and scream.

The big, bearded man who proved to be Anet's owner called a young couple to lend him a hand. The couple wore clothes designed in the medieval times, noble costumes: a lord and his princess. The bearded man let them work on the screeching girl and they made good work. Right between Anet's knees stood one table leg, so first they raised her knees - one by one - and tied them very strongly to the table leg, cutting the blood flow to her lower legs and feet. Then they forced Anet's feet - one by one again - upwards, until her dirty and aching soles touched her own assglobes. The man held the soles in place while the woman with a small hammer drove long and thick nails through her feet and into her ass until the tip of the nails reached her hip bone and was locked deep into it. Anet was screaming, her mouth wide open. The stretched tendons made her shake with pain but the nails puncturing her feet and upper legs were destroying a small part of her hip bone were driving her crazy. When the couple finally let her free, even more pressure was applied to her flattened breasts as the rest of her body weight rested on her tied knees and even more on pulling on her already tortured breasts. She was completely out of her mind, thrashing her head from side to side, screaming and gurgling in utter agony, in a condition which the forced feeding seemed quite a challenge...

Aurelia was shocked by the cruelty of these treatments and she was glad she had won the race. Her position was much better. This was a real motivation to win those races, she thought. She climbed on the table, facing her three former opponents. She sent them a worried, sorry look, as if she could their pardon and understanding for what she was going to do. She reflected that it might be easier for Ayala to swallow her foul meal if her oesopahus was well greased. As there were but two bowls of fat she took one and pushed it against the ring-lined fat lips of the poor Black woman. She lifted the bowl so as to pour some of its content into her mouth. \"Drink that, dirty Nigger. It's even too good for you!\" she barked, while giving her a discrete blink. But Ayala was beyond the point where she could understand Aurelia's hidden gestures. With her fat breasts pressured into plat-like flatness between the planks, the poor Black was just staring blankly with her still forcely opened eyes what were crazy from the pain. Drops of the recently feeded fat were dripping from her big, fat, wounded lip like she was drooling, and her whole body was trembling slightly.

After she had gulped a few mouthful, Aurelia left her alone and turned to Joyce. Again, she pressed the hot bowl against her mouth and let if flow. The foul liquid flowed slowly into the gaping mouth and Aurelia could see from her disgusted grimace that the taste must have been horrible. She kept insulting the trapped girl, apparently stimulating her to swallow faster. However, in spite of the violence of her words and behaviour, she was keeping the flow of fat at a manageable speed. Once the bowl was empty, she turned it over and placed it as a cap on Joyce's head, bringing sadistic laughters from the assistance. Unlike Ayala, Joyce understood the agent's intentions and though her face was a mask of misery when Aurelia leaned closer, she whispered \"Thank you!\".

Aurelia turned to Anet and tried to repeat the same actions. However the loser was completely mad with pain, which was quite understandable according to the horrors she was suffering. Her head was thrashing madly, making it difficult for Aurelia to bring the bowl to her lips. \"Will you stop jerking your head, you stupid piece of loser's cunt?\" she insulted her, with no obvious results. Aurelia eventually knelt in front of her and clasped Anet's cheeks between her knees. The position proved to be quite uncomfortable for aurelia too as she had place her ankles and the top of her feet unto the upper plank pressuring the poor slaves breasts downwards, and her knees were resting on Anet's shoulders, applying more pressure onto Anet's already encumbered knees and tits. Still there was no other way she could stop the girl from shaking her head. By the way, she had little respect for this moaning, crying, whining, girl. She had to forced the bowl between her teeth and to pour its content as fast as she could as her prisoner was jerking so fiercely. A lot of fat spilled over her lips and flew down her face and neck. Once she was done, Aurelia put the bowl over Anet's head as a proof she had emptied the bowl. Loud applause and cheers came from the audience, stifling Anet's pitiful moans and retching.

The citizens who were sitting around the table were watching Aurelia's panther like body from quite a close distance, and they were also burning in sadistic desire favouring on what Aurelia was forced to do with her fellow slaves. Their eyes were wide open, the sight of the painfully restrained and obviously suffering slaves and the winner's almost gleeful facial expression made them horny. Citizens of Ashagen loved to watch when slaves were torturing each other. The couple dressed in the medieval times noble costumes turned out to be totally wicked and voracious. They had a short conversation with Joyce's owner and became a bit dejected when the man shaked his head, but soon turned to happy when the arabian owner of Ayala gave them permission for doing something. They laughed at each other and even kissed before they stepped to the shaking Black. God knew where from they got a short piece of triangular wood, the man lifted Ayala's knees from the ground and the woman slided the wooden thing under her kneecaps. In this manner new source of pain was created for Ayala, the weight of her body was now rested on a sharp edge of the wooden tool, pressing deep into the sensitive tissues in her knees, making her renewing her desperate whimpers. Both member of the sadistic couple were smiling wildy and the woman even reclined upon Ayala's shoulders not only applying more pressure to the knees, but also making the Black lean backwards what giving new pain as extreme pulling to her breasts. Aurelia returned to Ayala around that time and the pretty woman look deep into the winner's eyes;

\"Go bitch! Go... feed this disgusting animal, let her taste some real meat...\" she whispered and smiled with burning eyes, the sadistic lust totally owerhelmed her. Her man stood next to his girlfriend with hard rock cock. \"Feed her!\" he barked too.

Aurelia turned to her audience, displaying a realistic sadist's grin. It was easy to fake that as she had just to mimic the face of her public. She made her eyes flash with lust and turned back to the drooling and suffering Ayala. This was the most horrible part of her task: feeding the poor black slave these pieces of human flesh. Just thinking of it was making her stomach heaving. She started with the black breast as it seemed easier. She forced it into Ayala's mouth as fas as she could and then pinched her nose until the choking girl was forced to gulp it down to breathe again. She swallowed the horribly charred, deformed piece of human flesh is one piece, her esophagus bulged grotesquely as it slowly slided down, directly into her stomach. The rotten hands proved more difficult as the bones prevented Aurelia from using the same trick. Ayala was unwilling to chew on those rotten, disgusting pieces of meat and Aurelia had bang her knees several times in the breast plank to \"convince\" her to do it. After much stimulation, Ayala was forced to let the disgusting pieces of meat into her oral cavity. Aurelia helped her by closing the fingers of the hand and let it slide fingers foward into the Black's throat. Again, Ayala swallowed in whole piece the hellish food making her own esophagus stretched to its very maximum. Both hands were finally chewed and swallowed and Ayala was fighting the urge to puke.

When Ayala's forced feeding was finally over and the citizens had also finished their meal, Laura stood up and slowly walked to Aurelia who was still kneeling on the table. Laura was wearing a short skirt and high-heel sandals; her steps knocked loud on the stone floor. She had a short conversation with Ayala's Arabian owner and smiled widely as she got a positive answer. She produced two sets of small, shiny pliers from her pocket and she stepped to Ayala's back, dismissing the couple who was still around the Black slave. Laura caught Aurelia's glimpse and blinked at her, sending a wave of applause and also sexual enjoyment towards the agent.

\"Come here, lady!\" she ordered Aurelia, using her strictest voice, and Aurelia caught Tyros's approval nod. The Ninja was not too happy watching Laura commanding his slave, but due to Tyros's and Laura's known agreement he had no other choice.

Aurelia blinked again at Laura, her face showing a cruel grin. Laura playfully tapped Aurelia's bottom and handed her the pair of shiny pliers.

\"I need your help. Take this, and secure this nigger's big toes one by one. I like nigger toes, they usually have big and strong nails.\" Laura whispered and kneeled down at Ayala's back, tickling the Black girl's white but severely burnt sole with a long fingernail.

Aurelia climbed down from the table and knelt by Ayala's stinking, sweat-covered, charred feet. She placed herself so that her flank was against Ayala's and she bent over. She grabbed one of the two big toes in her pliers. From her place, she was facing Laura who too had knelt behind the Black slave.

\"Now... grab this toe and force it backwards to me, I need easy access... that's it dear...\" Laura said and smiled at Aurelia. Madness, lust and hideous slyness were brightening in her eyes. With her own pliers Laura carefully grabbed Ayala's slovenly and long toenail.

\"Let this be a lesson, I want you to be able to perform this kind of extraction any time I need it.\" Laura whispered still scanning Aurelia's face.

She made some small corrections until the jaws of the pliers had a firm grab on the nail, then she started to pull. Slowly first, only giving a constant but steady pull, at around 10 degrees angle from the level of Ayala's toe. The poor girl started to shriek but her pitiful voice just made Laura even more excited. She started to slowly move the pliers right and left, applying lateral pulling too. Soon small wounds opened where the toenail joined the toe and fat blood drops formed where the skin was slowly teared. The toenail loosened and Laura was gasping for air in an almost uncontrollable sexual joy. Aurelia could see that small rivulets of pussy juices were soaking the blonde torturer's thighs as she kept on constantly pulling. Ayala's shrieks never died, and the fatiguing of the nail bed went on for long minutes. Finally the edges of the nail were bleeding clearly and Laura started to apply more brute force. She started to screw the nail, bending its flexible surface and making the roots tensing against the nailbeds. Ayala's screams went high and loud; actually she was screaming with wide open mouth. Laura kept on screwing until the roots were deformed and the nail was particularly loosened in its bed. As next stage, she made harder tugs, yanking with moderate force, causing more bleeding and making Ayala scream like never before. Her dark red blood was dripping on the floor under her toe. Her free toes were wriggling widely but Aurelia's firm grip denied freedom to the big toe. Laura sucked the air into her lungs and with an ecstatic yell she yanked finally on the loosened toe-nail. Ayala screamed and puked at once and Laura tore the nail out, spraying blood all over herself and Aurelia. She held the separated nail victorously between hers and Aurelia's face. She grinned in total trance and suddenly snapped at the blood nail, sucking on it, licking it. When she finally removed the nail from her mouth the piece of horn was wet, shiny and totally clean; not only the blood but also the remnant of tissues and skin had been removed for its surface.

\"What a beauty...\" Laura sighed, staring at the nail in her palm as if it was a wonderful painting or any other extraordinary work of art. She carefully hid the freshly torn nail into a small piece of satin.

\"It's your turn dear... show me what you have learnt...\" she said and handed Aurelia her pliers.

Aurelia swallowed her saliva and froze her face in an unpenetratable mask. Laura was really a mad sadist. She was disgusting her. The young secret agent was relishing in anticipation the day she would break her neck and relieve the World of this freak. But her face was showing none of her thoughts and looked as if she was focusing on the task at hand. She grabbed the long, dirty nail with her pliers and began to pull and jerk on it. Ayala's shrieks were making all her hair standing up on her skin. Yet she had to do it, and the poor Black was already half dead. She jerked and twisted and shook the nail, until she felt the ligaments tearing. With a final, powerful yank, she ripped the nail from its fleshy sheath.

Faking surprise, she considered the bleeding nail with a puzzled look. \"It was so easy. It came out so fast. It must have been damaged, I'm afraid. That's so sad. I like so much when it takes longer\" she lamented, pretending to be frustrated.

\"Ohhhh... you performed so well, sweetheart!\" Laura purred and caressed Aurelia's face. \"Now clean it as I did... the taste of slaves' fresh blood can be wonderful!\"

\"Thank you so much, Laura. But I do not deserve such a honour. Let me offer you this delicate sweet as a testimony of my love and my admiration for your methods. I'm so eager to play with you in private\" Aurelia whispered while dropping delicately the torn nail into Laura's hand.

Laura nodded and was seemingly very satisified. She packed the second nail into the same satin before she leaned closer to Aurelia.

\"I have a surprise for you...\" she whispered from a very close distance only for the agent. \"As I'm so satisfied with your today performance I arranged your so-desired meeting with the woman who will die tomorrow at the Final Scream Games. You can witness her death and before the game I will also let you to talk to her... a few words at least...\" she gleed. \"Of course everything has its price so you'll need to participate in another half-innocent game before her last competition, but no need to worry, you will survive that too...\" she finished before standing up.

\"I'm done with the nigger, Harremsa Sheik!\" she adressed her words to the nearby standing Arabian slaver. She turned back, blinked at Aurelia again and slowly walked out of the room.

Tyros ordered something to the guards around and four guys approached the sitting Aurelia, grabbing her by her arms and shoulders. Tyros stood right in front of her and finally smiled at her.

„You performed well. I’m satisfied. As long as you follow my orders in such manner you will live, and your life will be hundred times better than any other slave’s fate. Do not forget: as long as you’re competing in the Painbringer Arena your life isn't at risk... or at least the risk is generally low. While you’re competing, you earn me money, so I’m happy too. If I’m happy you’re happy as well, but if you fail, you will regret the day when you were born. I don’t threaten you. I just tell you facts. So it’s your very own interest to keep your good form and win as many games as possible, so having safety and any future. Got it?” he asked and Aurelia nodded, Tyros was clear enough.

„On the other hand, I fucking don’t know what kind of game you play around... pretending you’re a sick sadist like the rest of the people here. I know you, bitch. I can scan your mind. I don’t exactly know – yet, what’s your secret, but I can clearly understand you’re not a limitless serial killer... but you’re acting like a pro... clever girl...” he said while staring into Aurelia’s eyes from a very close distance. „I like that however, you must be crafty, you need tricks in the Arena...” he smiled coldly.

Aurelia smiled inwardly. Everything was going well, as well as she could hope. She was fearing the day when Laura would ask her to lose a race. She had seen what happened to the losers and she did not want to find herself in such a situation. However, until then, she would surely find a way to escape.

„Tomorrow you will have another... game or at least something like that. Laura convinced me to let you escort us into a special, private event. As every slave there will have some role, we found you a perfect function too. You will play there. Again. That game won’t be such palatial as today, but there will be bets so you will earn me money again. However do not think I want you to be crippled or that I don’t care for your body, bitch. Fortunately you avoided any serious damage, but till tomorrow evening you will spend your time at the hospital, having your body healed... See you soon, my beautiful panther!” he finished before nodding to the guards. Aurelia’s wrists were cuffed behind her back, and a black textile bag was pulled onto her head. Her last sight was that of Joyce being released from the tit pressuring device, but as the bag was placed and with a rope it was pulled tightly around her neck not only her eyes, but her ears became totally useless too.

The girl was dragged roughly through a quite long path. The bag was deafening and blinding her totally. It seemed to be made from a special material. The rope around her neck was pulled tight enough to choke her, cutting the rest of her air supply. Only her soles gave her any information about where they were going. They passed through stone covered places, then the surface changed to sand. She was lifted and felt metal under her feet. She was lifted again and was laid onto something very strange, a kind of metallic device. Two small, metal circles were under her both ass cheeks. Her ankles were placed into metal semi-barrels just as her wrists, which were pulled over her head forcing the girl into an X-shaped position. Her neck was also locked into metallic barrels. Aurelia felt, as the semi-barrels were closed shut completing them into full-cylinders made of metal. She was floating in the air, secured by strong and heavy tubes of metal around her wrists, ankles and neck, and the only other support she had was under her ass cheeks. Suddenly a sharp, high-pitched blast filtered through the bag and she felt acceleration. She was in a fucking ambulance... but what kind of ambulance?

She pulled on her limbs, testing her restraints. They were sturdy and did not yield as she moved. She turned her head in all directions, trying to loosen the rope that was choking her, to no avail. Her breathing was maintained in an anguishing trickle that kept her in a permanent state of panting helplessly. She tried to rub the bag against her arms and could not make it budge. Her deafness and blindness were highly disorientating her. She felt completely isolated from her environment. She did not even know if she was alone or not. Moreover, in addition to her windpipe being tightened to the point of choking by the neck rope, the bag itself only let very little air passing. Thus, the trickle of air she managed to force into her lungs had already been breathed several times. The bag was alternately sticking to her face and pumped fill as she tried to breathe in and out. In this situation, Aurelia was on the verge of panicking and she had to collect all her training to stay calm.

Chapter XV - The hospital

Authors: Noemi Salvadge & Aurelie Catena

English corrected by JP

Authors' emails: Noya2929 [at] gmail [dot] com), Aurelie [dot] Catena[at] gmail [dot] com

Tags:M/f, M/f+, F/f, F/f+, interracial, modification, snuff, Tit Torture, feet, slavery, bondage, real, torture, nc, Extreme

After a not too long drive, the ambulance had arrived somewhere. Aurelia's dampened senses were unable to catch any significant detail of the outer world, not to mention the permanent fight for air. All she could feel was that the device she was strapped on was lifted up and down, someone touched her arm and she was rolled... that strange thing had gears. After a while the rolling stopped and the strapped agent was left there for long minutes, in total silence. She was at the very edge of passing out, the air inside the bag contained no more oxygen. Panic started to overwhelm her...

Someone tickled her ribs. Fingers tapped along the side of her body, counting the ribs one by one. On the verge of losing consciousness, she felt the fingers checking her pulse by pressing veins on her wrist. Soon Aurelia felt that the rope around her neck was loosened and at the same time fresh air filled the bag. The fingers continued prodding her body, her shoulders, chest and breasts were poked, her abdomen, hips and bottom. She was fingered for short seconds in her pussy and rectum as well, and the fingers went along her legs, probing carefully her still throbbing feet.

Finally the fingers left her body a while and a bit later the girl felt someone pulling the bag and removing it from her head. Harsh lights blinded her for several seconds, but soon her eyes began accommodate. A male face appeared from the light background, smiling. He was a very tall and thin man around the age of fifty. His face was elongated and hideously vermiculated, he was wearing thick glasses-lenses. The man was almost bald, his teeth were yellow and a stinking breath hit Aurelia's nose. The man was wearing a white lab-coat and a small badge identified him as Dr. Gunther Wesserling. Aurelia also realized from the image reflected by a nearby mirror that she was laid onto a metal frame consisting of only ten, mechanical projections. A few of them were closed and placed at the bottom of the frame that was rolled on four wheels. The other projections were set so as to maintain Aurelia in her current position.

\"Welcome, lady!\" Wesserling said, smiling in a disgusting way, as he mustered the naked spy. \"My name is Doctor Wesserling and you are in the Mengerle Institute. I will be your doctor while you're staying here, unfortunately only for a very very brief time. As a newcomer, I have the responsibility to introduce to you the rules. They're quite simple: You must obey all doctors and nurses around, whatever their orders are. No exception and no pardon. You can recognize the staff by their white or blue coats and their badges\" he explained while caressing slowly Aurelia's cheeks with his callused fingertips. \"You're a very special specimen, I can tell you, a class-one slave of the highest quality. And an arena slave too. That's a pity. Pity, because the rest of Ashagen's slaves are ending their life in the institute. When they are completely used up by their owners but still alive, the rest of them are taken here, so we can make use of them. But not the arena slaves. After their last game, we usually cannot use them for anything, except my colleagues at the dissection department\" he smiled. \"As per my first examination, you're in great condition and your race did not cause any serious damage. You'll have a deep exam soon and also a treatment, but this time you won't have to worry too much... this time...\" he laughed in a hoarse voice. \"I have some free time today so before the deep inspection I would suggest to you let me guide you through the establishment, there are a lot of things to see. Want me to show you around?\"

Aurelia could hardly refuse. Thus, she nodded her agreement. By the way, this would provide more data for her soon-to-be-written report. This doctor seemed the perfect fit for a trial in crime against humanity. She was also hoping that she could find a computer with an Internet connection in this place. Maybe she could be able to escape, or at least to send a message to the Company.

The doctor stood above Aurelia's head and gripped the strange \"hospital bed\"'s pull under the girl's head. They started their journey through this hospital called hell. Wesserling was chatting continuously as if they were good old friends having a nice picnic.

\"You know, lady, the human anatomy is the most wonderful creation of God. It's complex, it's working perfectly like the most precise machines and strives for defending itself. It has secrets, many many secrets that are waiting to be revealed. Human body hide its secrets, deeply, covering them. So you need to be really resolute and must pass conventional limits to learn more. The other doctors all over the world don't understand that, but fortunately here, in the Mengerle Institute we aren't bonded by such old-fashioned principles like humanity or compassion. We're just doing our job for humankind's sake. Can you understand that?\"

Aurelia looked at the doctor as if it were a mad scientist, which certainly he was. And as all mad scientists, he was so imbued with himself that he was going to reveal her all his secrets. The spy's mind was ready to memorize all she was about to see as this would prove very useful when the trial time would come up. To encourage him on this way, she assured her that she was understanding and approving his unselfish initiatives.

They passed through several long, blue and green corridors bathed in harsh light. The building was huge, and the lack of windows indicated that they were probably underground. Dozens of people were all around, wearing white or blue coats, doctors, nurses, cleaning ladies and others. Aurelia had to recognize that they were extremely happy, smiling, chitchatting with each other. Nobody was running or in a hurry at least, and several of them had glanced at the naked agent strapped to her 'bed\". Some of them waved to Wesserling or smiled, grinning at Aurelia. Their leer made Aurelia shiver. All those people considered her as meat, as a living object, as an experimental pet, not as a patient.

Another white-coated man pulled a wheelchair to the opposite direction. The human sitting in that chair shocked Aurelia. She had been a woman once, but the wreck sitting in this chair could hardly have been called human anymore. Her head was covered with white bands and a pipe was sticking out of them, covering her mouth. All the other parts of her body were naked, but her skin was gone totally. Her complete body was of an angry red and was covered with thousands of blisters; the skin was peeling off on several spots, hanging from her limp limbs. The body was steaming as if she had just been raised from a pot of boiling water. An awful stench hit Aurelia's nose as the wheelchair passed them. Her body was not secured; only a loose leather strap circled her waist to prevent her from falling from the chair. No more bonds were needed.

Aurelia's hair stood up on her skin at this horrible sight. This was so inhuman, so devious. It was lacking any respect for the human body and mind. This woman had really been used as a frog would have been by medical students. Such coldness of blood was scary.

\"The guys at the Experiments of Heat Survival are running several projects these days. This slave must have been one of their pets\" smiled Wesserling. \"Stinky work, but citizens with Inquisitor fetishes often visit that department...\" he finished his comment. \"We're in minus-two floor now, I'm going to show you the Medical Department. As your limbs will take 99% of the serious damages during the races, if you ever come here this is where you'll probably land. That's it...\" he said as they entered a big elevator.

They were lifted down a few floors and they entered a huge lobby. Right against the wall a coat-rack-like frame was standing, and Aurelia faced new level of horror. Bodies were hanging from the horizontal bar of the rack. Four women and one man, though it was hard to recognize their sex, as only their faces gave any indication. All five bodies were totally limbless. Their chests were flat too, without breasts or even with a single nipple. Their crotches were also heavily mutilated, no sexual organs were recognizable but a catheter was hanging from all right where the urethra should have been. They were totally hairless, and they were hanging from the frame by short chains connected to their ears. They were all alive and awake, staring at Wesserling and Aurelia in silence, but their face showed quite clearly the suffering they were enduring.

Wesserling stopped the bed in front of them, giving Aurelia enough time to look at them. She could not turn her eyes away from this sinister spectacle. These poor pieces of human were expressing so much agony and so much despair. They could only hope for death. Their muscles were rippling in their torsos as they writhed. The lips were pursed in a permanent grimace of agony. Their abs were now their only way to control their bodies and this gave them the look and feel of worms.

\"They are the fresh supply, just prepared for further experiments. The doctors here are focusing on medical treatments, the mechanism of internal organs etc... So they don't need anything else but the body itself, in this way smaller spaces are needed and the subjects can be stocked much more easily\" he smiled. \"Let's go inside, I want to show you how the preparation is performed.\" He started to push Aurelia's bed again, through a sound-proof door and into a stinking, fear-filled room.

The air was hot in the room, and stunk like a slaughter house, to which it was very similar. On the ceiling dim, bluish lights created a strange atmosphere. The floor and the walls were covered with white tiles. The floor and also the walls were full of red splotches, light and dark red, identified as blood. Unoccupied coat-rack looking frames were standing around, chains were hanging from them, some of them swinging in slow motion. Next to to wall of the hall’s opposite side, numerous cages were stacked and in the rest of them miserably bloody and damaged, naked slaves were crying and moaning, creating the most horrible atmopshere in the huge room. To the right, several men were standing around a big table, all of them wore awful bloody, white lab-coats. Hysterical crying could be heard from the centre of that big table, and the men around seemed to be having a good time.

„Hey, Dude, tighten that elbow strap a bit, the bitch is flailing too agressively.” said a deep voice.

„Of course she does, Blondes are always so picky when things come to their wrists.” Another man replied.

Wesserling rolled Aurelia’s bed closer and the agent could get a clear sight of what was going on. The big table was actually made of two smaller tables with a narrow path between them. On the middle of each table a naked female slave was strapped down very precisely. One of them was a blonde girl and the other one was an Asian cutie. Every portion of their body was strapped down. Leather straps circled their fingers, their wrists, above their elbows, shoulders, around their neck, waist, at the base of their thighs, above their knees, around their ankles and even straps at the base of the toes were forcing their feet into an unnaturally flat position.

The reason for that heavy strapping was clear. Almost all of the men were holding bloody tools in their hands like scalpels, evil-looking saws, electronic cauterizers. None of the women were in good shape. Both Asian girl’s breasts were severely burnt and charred black, her whole body was full of whipmarks and different spots of burning marks. One of her eyes was missing and only a burnt black hole was in its place. The lean Blonde’s breasts were chopped off but the wounds had been treated and already half-healed, indicating that the loss of her tits had happened a long time ago. Her other body parts were too in very bad condition. Dozens of bruises and cuts covered the pretty limbs and flat abdomen. She was also missing her nose. Only two black holes remained in the place of the supposedly dainty appendix. The Asian girl was missing her right forearm up to the elbow. The stub had clearly been recently cauterized as lots of blood was covering the table under her arm and it seemed that the severed tissues were still smoking. The Blonde’s right arm had no finger anymore, the freshly cut fingers were still on the table, around the woman.

„Hello, Wesserling. Long time we haven’t seen you here.” one of the men greeted the doctor. „How are things going?”

„Just the usual.” Wesserling answered as he shook hands with some of the men. „I see new experimental pet processing is going on.”

„Yes, we got a couple from the breast killer Russian lad, Cherkov or something. We often work from his old slaves as he never snuffs them. He destroys the face and the titties but normally does not make any serious damage so his ex-slaves, which is perfect for us. Who is that?”

„An arena slave, newly born arena star, I can say. You seem to apply step by step amputation on these two.”

„Absolutely, we are playing 'who can user her brains faster'. One math exercise is given. They count and answer. If the answer is correct the one who did not answer loses her next joint. If the answer is incorrect, the speaker loses. Recently started, the Blonde has some advantage with two correct answers but still a lot joints to play along.” the man laughed cruelly. „What a fine piece of pet you have, what a pity we can never have such perfect-condition babes here.”

„Of course you can’t, man. These ladies are for citizens not for employees, you have them after they are used up. Can I watch?” Wesserling asked as if Aurelia had not been next to him.

„Sure, doctor, it’s my turn to ask.” the man replied and her turned to the two shocked but still very much aware patients”. Three eyes looked at him with complete terror. From the width of their pupils, Aurelia could tell that both of them were full of drugs.

„One thousand six hundred and nine multiplied by three…” the man said and all the others remained silent for long seconds. Both poor women’s face showed how much they were trying to focus and find out the correct answer, but the inhuman pressure put on them made even that relatively easy excercise a horribly complicated one.

Finally the Blonde whispered, „Four thousand eight hundred thirty seven…” she said, her voice was full of pain and desperation.

The man grinned wildly and tapped the Blonde girl’s fingerless arm. „Almost good, dear. But you made a small mistake, so it is your turn. See doctor, the game is always speeding up as they always keep giving us wrong answers ” he said, raising his bloody, raked saw up.

The blonde girl started to scream and fight against her straps. The men around just laughed at her desperate efforts. The saw cut into her slender wrist just below the strap, and the screams became even higher and more horrible. Some blood spurted around as the butcher made his demonic job, sawing deep into the living wrist, cutting through veins, tendons, meat and bone, separating the fingerless hand from the rest of the arm within twenty seconds. As soon as the amputated stump was separated, another man stepped to the bleeding wrist and started to burn the wound around, making the Blonde scream and scream more. The butchers acted like a well-shaken-together team. The whole procedure took no more than forty seconds.

„Very nice game, I wonder why don’t you record it and sell it to the citizens? Some of them might give us some extra support when watching this.” Wesserling commented.

„Good idea, doctor, I will ask the boss.”

„What about the blood loss, aren't they going to perish before the end of the game?” the doctor asked.

„Well, fortunately our institute has more than enough blood supply. Normally we do a blood fusion after the loss of each limb, so that we can play the whole game with them, especially on days like this when we don’t have too much to do. These bitches will entertain us until the afternoon and after that we can finish with the others fast.” the man waved at the other slaves in the cages.

„Once the limbs, breasts and sexual outer organs are removed we seal all wounds, prepare them for transfer to the internal organs’ department. Oh, doc, we have a wonderful job!”

„Agreed my friends, so, have a good time, thanks for the show.” Wesserling said. Then he pushed Aurelia’s bed towards a door nearby.

After these horrors, the doctor pushed the bed past security doors into a new area.

\"We are now going to visit our aesthetic clinic\" the doctor told. \"Here we can correct every error the nature sometimes makes or repair every accident that may disfigure a previously harmonious body. We can even improve nature design far beyond what has ever be seen. In this section, our surgeons are making the boundary between science and art purely rhetorical, and some of them are divine artists. Let me show you our best pieces.\"

They entered a wide room, which was looking like an art museum hall. Pedestals were lined along the walls and in the middle of the room, with a sign placed on it. But instead of sculptures, the pedestals were showcasing human beings, most of them females. During the next half hour, Aurelia's bed was pushed along the aisles as her terrified eyes were treated with the most bizarre and horrible sights.

The girls had been modified in the most unnatural ways. Some had their waist reduced to a real wasp size. Others had their breasts so enormously swollen that they were almost as big as their chest. Other breasts had been circled with so many bracelets that they had been elongated to more than one meter from their base. Breasts were not the only target of the surgeons' re-factoring scalpels. Lips, both sexual and oral, had too been deformed, swollen, stretched in the most horribly creative ways.

Wesserling caressed Aurelia's face and ran a callused finger along the girl's lips.

\"I hope you like these artistic creations, as I see on your teeth that your owner made the first step to make you something similar sooner or later.\"

They left the room. Something started to beep and Wesserling picked up a mobile from his pocket. The conversation was small and in very low voice, not even Aurelia's supersharp ears could catch a word. She heard only the doctor's replies like \"Shit.\", \"I see.\", \"Soon on my way.\".

\"I'm sorry, dear, but unfortunately there is a very important experiment where my assistance is needed right now, so I have to go there. What a pity! I was hoping to spend this beautiful day with you, performing all the necessary corrective actions on your body myself personally. As I can't, and your owner wants you to be ready for tomorrow, I must leave your body in the care of someone else, but to say the truth I feel some jealousy. I don't really want anybody else treat you in this institute. For this reason I must knock you out for the rest of the upcoming treatment, so probably when you wake up next you will be out of the hospital. But not forever... Arena slaves always come back. And I will be waiting for you, I promise!\"

Then the mad doctor took a syringe from his pocket and injected something into Aurelia's arm. Her world soon turned to black.

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