When he entered her villa the second time, his mind was empty of any thoughts, doubts, and plans. But he trembled slightly: He knew that Kali was inside, waiting for him.

The last fourteen days had been like a pale dream and he had been like a sleepwalker: Whatever he had done, felt, or experienced had seemed to lack any importance. Nothing had appeared as completely real, the colors he had seen had looked washed out, the music had sounded just like meaningless noises, what he'd ate had tasted like plastic. But all the time Kali had been present in his mind, sleeping or awake, he had always felt her presence, seen her eyes, and heard her voice. The only matter of importance had been the absolute necessity of returning to her. He had not thought about it a single time what would happen to him after he followed this urge.

Now, after he had entered her house, it was as if his blurred senses cleared up and reality was becoming real again. Reality included cold metallic fear running through his veins.

Just like the first time, she had not welcomed him at the door. He had walked inside and now he was standing in the hall, listening for noises. Everything was quiet. The only illuminated area was the hall itself and the stairs down to the dungeon. He sighed, plucked up his courage, and went downstairs. When he opened the heavy door of the dungeon, he found the room illuminated by countless candles, torches, and a huge chimney fire. And he found her. Kali. Standing near the chimney, the light of the flames flickering on the dark fabric of the mid-thigh long gown she wore. A sharp contrast to the brightness of her face, arms and legs.

"Welcome to my parlor, sacrifice. Come closer."

He obeyed and walked into the heat of the room. His rising panic was like a big, pulsating knot in his throat.

"How are you, Kali?" He replied, and his voice sounded croaky. Immediately he felt embarrassed by the unsuitability of this greeting.

She smirked. "I'd prefer to forgo polite conversation tonight if you do not mind. Just tell me: You know what is in store for you now. Why did you come back though?"

He had the strange impression as if for a moment he heard her voice at the same time from outside and from within his head. As if her voice was a warm tickling within his brain.

How to answer her question? He suddenly realized that he had not spent one single second, thinking about whether or not he should return to her. Or thinking about the fact that he would die at this house if he did return.

"I...I don't know...I couldn't think very clear since our last meeting. I just had to return to you..."

"So you felt a compulsion to come back? You couldn't fight it?"

"Erm...yeah, something like that, Kali. I...I did not even have the idea of fighting it."

"Good...so that worked. My command to come back has suppressed your own thoughts and will. Momentarily you are free again, but I'll do some further experiments with controlling you tonight," she chuckled, "You'll be my lab animal...and there won't be any PETA activists to save you..."

He noticed she was right: His state of mind was different now, he thought about leaving the dungeon and running away and he realized that he was able to do it if he really wanted to.

"You think about running away from me and saving your life? Wouldn't you rather kneel down and kiss my fingertips?" Nonchalantly she reached out her left hand.

His body was like a resonant cavity for her voice. The warm vibrations caused an instant erection. He stared at her perfectly manicured red claws. Well, he could try to escape later, it things turned too bad. He went down to his knees and kissed the tips of her fingers. A hot stream of electricity shot through him and hardened his erection even more. He tasted the slight saltiness of her skin and felt the sharpness of her nails on his lips.

Suddenly her hand was away and he felt two harsh slaps on his cheeks.

"I said kissing, not licking!"

"Excuse me, Kali. I did not mean to..."

"Shut up! Let's get down to business. For a starter show me your devotion and put your right hand into the fire, sacrifice," she pointed at the chimney.

She did not take control of his mind; it was his own will or obsession that made him carry out her order. He moved to the chimney and put his hand into the flames...for a second he did not feel much, the second his hand felt very hot, another second of pain, the forth second it hurt unbearably while he tried to stand the pain without taking his hand back.

Finally he withdrew the hand by reflex with an outcry of pain and waved it violently, moaning lowly.

"I'm not very impressed!" He heard her unfriendly voice. "Didn't you promise to suffer for my pleasure?

She took his shoulders and turned him around so he knelt in front of her again, the heat of the fire in his back. Her heat in front of him. Her shiny beautiful legs in front of him.

"Take a look, sacrifice."

She lifted the hem of her gown and he saw that she was not wearing any underwear. Few inches away from his face he could see her adorable pussy. Bulging rosy lips surrounded by shimmering black curls.

Her voice from above now sounded deep, friendly, and understanding: "Do you like it, sacrifice? I do understand that you're only a man...you're limited, you need a good motivation to be brave...so just imagine that you're suffering for this pussy. Imagine that your pain gets absorbed by my clit, tickling it and making me horny! That should make it easier for you. Imagine that you're helping me get my pussy wet and hot! Make my juices flow with your pain! Keep in mind that I might even allow you to lick me afterwards. Do you want to lick it?" With an obscene move she slid her hips forward and the object of his desire nearly touched his nose. Her middle finger opened the lips a bit.

"Yeah, I'd like to..."

"Then put your hand back into the fire. This time you won't withdraw it till I allow you to. Show me you're willing to suffer seriously for me! And don't be shy to cry--no one will hear you except me...and believe me, I don't mind at all." He heard a brief chuckle. "Now do it!"

He clenched his teeth, turned around and protruded his still aching hand into the flames again. The pain started immediately and quickly increased to an insufferable degree while he tried to fix his mind on her pussy. He cried out loud: "Oh please!...please!...PLEASE!...UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUHHHH!!"

And withdrew again. Writhing on the floor, holding his burnt hand, crying in pain, he heard her shouting at him: "You're pathetic! That was NOTHING! The real pain hasn't yet begun! I will teach you what pain really means!"

He realized that he had been wrong. This pain was stronger than his desire to suffer for her. He did NOT want to suffer endlessly for her. He did not want to die for her. He needed instant medical help to save his burnt hand. He needed to get away from here.

"Stand up!" She barked at him, and he saw her face was flushed with rage.

He rose and looked at the palm of his hand. What he saw was an ugly black and red mess. He said: "Sorry--Uuuuuh, that hurts so much! I was wrong. All this is madness! I'll go now!"

The expression of rage vanished from her face and was replaced by a cruel smile. She replied: "Okay, sacrifice. Please go...if you can!"

He turned away from her and went to the door. When he touched the knob, her command broke into his mind:STOP! FREEZE!

It was like an electric shock. He winced, then he grew totally stiff. He could not move a single muscle.

He heard her giggling behind him. "What's the matter? Didn't you wanne leave? I'm not holding you back!"

He fought the mental chains that shackled him. Futile.

NOW TURN AROUND! COME BACK TO ME!

He was able to move again. But only into one direction. Like a fish on a hook he was pulled towards her, while his own will tried to stop his body. But she was stronger--step by step he neared the maliciously smiling woman.

"You better fight harder, sacrifice!" She mocked him, "If you can't escape I'll do something very, very mean to you now!"

But he could not fight harder and soon he stood in front of her again.

"Will you obey to me now?"

He realized that he was mentally free again. "Kali, see, all of this was an mistake, I've been..."

"Shut up! Down on your knees again, and put your hands on the floor. Let me see your little injury."

He felt that it was dangerous to contradict now, so he obeyed and laid his hand on the floor, palms up.

"Tsk, tsk...that looks bad! Does it hurt a lot?" With sudden gentleness she stroked his hair.

"Yes, Kali it hurts like hell! Please let me..."

"BUT IT DOESN'T HURT ENOUGH!" She screamed and stomped the pointed metal tip of her heel down on his burnt hand. He yelled while she put all of her weight on that heel. Bones snapped with a gruesome noise. His desperate attempts to rip his hand free succeeded in the end--for the prize of shredding most of what had been left of his palm. Crying with pain and with his sight blurred by tears he could not fend off the barrage of violent kicks that came down on him now. She was kicking and stomping viciously all over his body: She kicked into his kidneys, she stomped onto his belly, she smashed her shoe right against his balls and right into his face.

When she stopped, he lay on the floor, convoluted to a big, moaning ball. Some moments of silence, then he heard her command to look at her. He lifted his head and saw her sitting on a chair. She was breathing hard and was flushed with excitement. Through the veil of his tears he saw the satisfied smile on her face. He felt something hard rolling loosely in his mouth and spit it out--a tooth, accompanied by a little gush of blood.

"Now listen, sacrifice: I won't let you go. You will die in this room tomorrow night. You've consented once and forever. Neither will you change my mind, nor will you have any chance of escaping. You will die! All you can do is finding back your attitude. Serve me willingly and get something out of your suffering for yourself--or sustain it as a passive victim and die senselessly. To me it doesn't make any difference." She leaned back, crossed her long, bare legs and waited for his response.

Her words sank in. He knew that she was right. But with all this real, horrible pain he felt, his former dedication seemed very far away and very unreal. Yet it was the only thing that could help him.

"Help me Kali! You're right...but I don't know how to do it. Please help me keeping my mind the right direction."

"Good. Your will is appreciated. Let's forget the last minutes and start anew. Come to me--I'll ease your pain."

She reached out her hand. He hesitated. Could he trust her? What nonsense, he thought; trust was a meaningless idea under these circumstances. She would kill him anyway...he realized that he had to stop thinking. Getting back into the mode of true, mindless submission. Accepting everything she did. Loving and adoring her for her cruelty. Devoting all his pain to her.

His change of attitude had an instant effect: Arousal and adoration for her mixed up with the pain all over his body. He crawled to her, ready to receive an easement of his pain or accepting further torment. Ready to love her whatever she would do. He rested his aching cheek against her cool hand and closed his eyes. Waiting.

In a friendly tone she said: "Relax. Open your mind. Trust me."

He did so, and while he felt her fingertips stroking his temples he had a strange feeling as if his mind was somehow interfusing with hers. He felt like he was dissolving inside a superhuman sphere, great and warm and full of pulsating energy. Pure ecstasy. He longed to stay there forever, but soon he was thrown back into his own reality.

But the pain was away. His body felt like nothing had happened. He looked at his devastated hand. It was still a lump of burnt and trampled raw flesh--but it did not hurt any longer. However that was not the matter of his interest now. He stared at her in awe and asked: "What are you? How did you do that? It was as if our souls had connected! Can you please do it again?"

She smiled coldly. "You want to experience it once more?"

"Oh yes!"

"You will. Tomorrow night. At the moment of your death. When I will devour your soul. Are you ready to proceed now?"

"Yes."

"You understand that there will be no further easements?

"Yes."

"Then get out of your clothes now."

He obeyed without hesitation, peeled off his clothes and put them on the floor. Standing naked in front of her, with his half erect dick, he waited for her next command. Most relaxed she mustered his bare frame. She looked pleased.

"Turn around--show me your backside."

He did so.

"Nice butt!...Okay, you won't need your clothes anymore. Throw them into the fire."

This was a serious symbol. He liked it. It aroused him. He took his things and put them into the flames--along with any remaining hope to leave this place alive. Within seconds the clothes began to burn and the flames of the chimney fire changed color for the few moments till the textiles were incinerated. He stared into the flames and did not notice when Kali rose off the chair and walked behind him, till he felt arms embracing his shoulders and he heard her saying:

"There goes a part of your life. Tomorrow night the rest of you with go the same way."

He looked back at her, admired the cold beauty of her features and the glowing of her black eyes and replied, "Yes, Kali."

She had enjoyed the little power game. She was still intrigued by trying out how much control over a man she could achieve by different means. This alternating between using her sexual seductive charm, exploiting his obsessions, and resorting to her psychic powers in case of need was fun! Later she would also make use of simple restraining devices. She now knew that she had him under control totally: Neither did he want to escape, nor was he able to do it against her will.

Contrary to her words to him, she was completely indifferent regarding his state of mind. Whether or not he accepted what she would do with him was meaningless. During her year of learning at the group she had gotten used to consider ordinary humans as nothing but food. But she liked playing with her food, and getting him back into his state of voluntary submission had been a nice game of manipulation. She would continue fucking his mind and heart later, but now she was hungry for his blood.

She lolled in her chair and mused how to go on.

"Come over, sacrifice. Eat my pussy while I think about what torture to start with."

She skidded ahead, spread her legs, and let one of them hang over the armrest. His head disappeared under the hem of her gown and soon she felt his lips and his wet tongue at the delicate skin of her inner thigh, close to her pussy, working his way to her center. Her arousal increased fast--she had never needed much for getting hot. While he worked between her legs, she leaned back comfortably, closed her eyes and spoke out her thoughts aloud so he could hear them:

"Hmmm...should I start with some whipping?...No, too strenuously at the moment...I need something more painful for you that is casually done for me...what about playing with electric shocks? Mmmm...leave your tongue there...do it slower...what do you think, shall I attach some electrodes at your sack and roast your balls?"

Apparently he got the rhetorical nature of this question: Instead of answering he increased his efforts in pampering her clit with his tongue.

She laughed and said: "I'm seeing through you! You think you can give me an orgasm now and get me in a milder mood by that? No way, boy...but go on, you're doing it good. Hmmm...or shall we do something gorier? I could carve a bit on your body...slower, boy, I said do it slower!...what about carving my name into your chest?...use your fingers, too! Stick 'em into my pussy!...Or maybe I should chop off some of your fingers? Mmmm...gooood...Aaah, now I know what we'll do! Look at me!"

His frightened face appeared above the hem of her dress.

"Do you think you're good with your tongue? That you really can please me?"

"Er...I'm trying my very best..."

"That wasn't my question! Of course you're doing your best! But is your best good enough? Are you good enough to force me into an orgasm?"

"I don't know..."

"But we'll find out! We'll play a little game: You will go on licking me. You'll have 10 minutes time to give me an orgasm. If you fail I will cut off your tongue."

She leered at him and saw him grow pale. He did not protest, though, seemingly he still was in his state of total submission. But she felt his fear. It tickled her clit better than his tongue could ever do.

"Okay, first let's see what kind of instrument we'll use for the operation. Come!"

She rose off the chair, smoothed down her dress and walked to one of the chests. He followed her and stood beside her when she opened one of the drawers.

"Look at this exquisite collection of knifes! Hey, I'll be nice to you. I let you choose one! Which of them shall I use to cut off your tongue?"

She grinned at him derisively and enjoyed the expression of the inner conflict on his face. His eyes rambled over the terrifying instruments. He knew he had to decide for one of them, but he obviously could not do it.

"Come on! Or we'll take this one..." She pointed at a serrated hunting knife.

He shuddered and picked up a Japanese knife that looked extremely sharp. With toneless voice he said: "Take this one please."

"Okay. I'll use this one...if I'll use a knife...but we could just as well take a scissors for the job..."

She opened another drawer that was filled with all sorts of scissors--from small manicure scissors over a huge selection of surgical scissors to large hedge shears.

"Yeah, I think this pair of hedge shears looks appropriate..." She took it out and opened a further drawer. "Of course we could also use a pair of pliers and nip your tongue off with it...hey, didn't you have this one in your hand at your last visit?" She seized it, closed the drawer and presented him the knife, the shears, and the pliers. "Hmmm...I don't know...show me your tongue! Let's see which of these tools matches best."

He looked at her in sheepish fright.

"I said: SHOW! ME! YOUR! TONGUE!"

Closing his eyes in horror he opened his mouth and protruded his tongue.

"Open your eyes and look!"

He complied and saw her touching the tip of his tongue with the sharp blade of the knife.

"Don't worry, baby...you can always trust me! I won't do it now...I'll do it after you've failed! Hmm...no, I don't think I'll take the knife."

Now she opened the shears and put it around his tongue. "Naah...that looks inappropriate. We'll take the pliers," she giggled and grabbed his dick, "But maybe I'll cut this one off with the hedge shears later..."

She noticed that paradoxically the threatened organ hardened even more in her hand. She smiled at him sardonically and cooed: "That makes you horny, huh? Just wait...And now we need a little preparation for our game. Maybe you'll be a bad loser who doesn't want to pay your prize. Put your hands on your back."

She took a pair of handcuffs and chained his hands. He showed no resistance.

"And now the feet." She tied his ankles with black tape. He was perfectly helpless now.

"Very good. Now get over there!" She pointed at the chair beside the chimney.

He could not walk with his ankles shackled as tightly as they were, but being eager to follow her command though he hopped like a frog and with every hop his dick bobbed against his belly.

Kali burst out laughing when she saw it. "Sacrifice, you're funny!"

After taking a bottle of champagne out of a small refrigerator and fetching a glass she walked over to him. He sat on the floor in front of the chair, waiting for her with his head lowered. She placed bottle, glass, and the pliers on the table, then, standing in front of him she seized his chin and lifted it.

"Don't look so frightened, sacrifice! Be happy! There are ten minutes of pure pleasure for you in store! And regarding this nipping off of your tongue...I don't understand why you're so worried about that...it's only pain...and its only your pain. I won't feel anything!" She laughed into his face. "Kiss my cunt!" She stretched her abdomen out to his face and received a tender and adoring kiss on her cuntlips.

"You're sweet, sacrifice...I guess it's time for me to grant you some additional pleasure...it's pretty hot anyway."

She undressed--which was quickly done, since she did not wear anything aside her gown. After pulling it over her head and carelessly dropping it she was naked aside her pumps. She allowed his desirous looks to ramble over her frame, marveling at her adorable, heavy tits with their large, brown nipples. Gazing at her nice, flat belly and perfectly rounded hips. She even turned around to grant him a look at her tender, apple-shaped ass.

"Look at my nipples, sacrifice! You see? They are bullet-hard in sheer anticipation...do you like them? Do you like my titties? Do they make you horny?" She found it amusing to behave like a vulgar slut every now and then--as long as the witness of this behavior was kneeling at her feet, thoroughly shackled. She loved her total freedom of being whatever she momentarily liked to be without any restraint: She could be shameless as a whore, impressive and dignified like a Goddess, or cruel as Caligula; she could even be tender and lovingly if she ever wanted to. Whatever her momentary whim was--and altering it immediately if her mood changed, and that used to happen frequently and fast. He would never be able to anticipate what she would do the next moment.

"You are so beautiful, Kali!" His adoring eyes proved the sincerity of his words. Knowing the most terrible torture was waiting for him and even knowing that next day he would die by her hand, he seemed to be fulfilled with nothing but adoration for her.

Proud and arrogant as she was, she thought that his feelings were nothing but appropriate: She indeed was very beautiful and aside that she was a superior being. Serving her needs was an honor for him. She further thought that in some years or decades she would be as surfeited as the other women of the group--after the tenth or hundredth man dying at her feet the victim's awe would no longer mean much for her. But now that she was new to these games she enjoyed it a lot, she enjoyed her own glorious image as she saw mirrored in his eyes.

Breaking loose from her musings she placed her naked butt onto the chair, stretched her cunt against him and said: "Okay, let's start the game. Let me repeat the rules: You have ten minutes time to lick me to an orgasm. If you fail your tongue is history...Oh, we don't have a clock here...well, you'll simply count the seconds. You will count down aloud from six hundred to zero while you're eating my pussy. Start now!"

His face disappeared between her legs and his busy tongue started working. Looking down on him, she saw his dense hazelnut hairs, a bit of his forehead, the shoulders and his arms, shackled at his back. She realized that without the chance of resting his weight on his hands his position must be most inconvenient--to increase her own comfort at his costs she placed her thighs on his shoulders, the heels of her pumps resting on his back between his arms.

She did not intend to give him any chance--she would enjoy his worshipping and let him bring her close to climax--but she would hold it back to enjoy it even more intensely later. Later, when it would be accompanied by his screams of agony.

He complied her order and counted down aloud--yet she could not understand a word. Anyhow muffled from his mouth's position between her legs, his voice sounded even more dull as he had to speak while his tongue was otherwise busy...She giggled when she said: "Hey, you're already now sounding like you had no tongue!"

She fetched the bottle of champagne, removed the wire from the cork and tried to pull out the cork, but it stuck tightly. She casually knocked the bottle against his head and said: "Hey, take a break and open this bottle for me!"

He looked up and she stuck the bottleneck into his mouth.

"Bite on the cork!"

He did so while she dragged on the bottle. With no success. Infuriated she started to shake the bottle. Anticipating what was to come he groaned. Finally, with a dry BANG, the cork shot against his palate, followed by a fountain of champagne on high pressure. Retching and swallowing up, with his eyes rolling in panic and his face crimsoning from the shortness of breath, he fought for air while she showered him all over with the still spurting champagne, laughing hysterically.

When the fountain of foam ran dry she relaxed, filled her glass and leaned back. Taking a sip, she watched him at his desperate attempts to get the fluid out of his lungs. Hitting on an idea she asked him: "Do you need help, sacrifice? Shall I knock you on your back?"

No reaction from him, he obviously had not even heard her question.

In her cheeriness she felt like moving a bit. She jumped out of the chair and took a cat-o-nine from the wall, a vicious one with pieces of metal braided at the ends of the leather straps. She neared him from behind and smashed the whip across the ass of the totally unsuspecting man. In reaction, he jumped like a cat, producing a wild mixture of noises: Screeching, coughing and burping. Zzzzzzash! The next stroke dug into his back and into the shackled arms. He jumped again. The next hit, once more on his ass. She went on and forced him all around the dungeon, walking behind him, battering and lacerating his backside. The crying had helped him getting the champagne out of his lungs, he was no longer choking. All he did now was screaming from the top of his lung and futilely trying to avoid her strokes. He tried to stand up, but a casual kick sent him back onto the floor. She became more and more ferocious, her ears drumming with his yelling, her mind relishing the sharp explosions of pain he experienced with any of her strokes, and her right arm feeling the rebound of the brutal blows. Heated and dripping with sweat she lost herself completely. She had caught him in a corner of the room and he had given up escaping from her, he just had rolled himself into a fetal position, wincing, weeping and screaming. Blind with passionate rage she BASHED and BASHED and BASHED at the helpless bundle of red, bloody, aching flesh while she rubbed her pussy with her left hand.

Close to her climax, she dropped the whip and jumped down on him, turned him on his back, straddled his chest, grabbed his hair with both of her hands and ripped his face towards her. She saw tears and sweat and blood and pain, she saw him weeping and sobbing...and she loved what she saw! Grunting with lust she smashed his head against the floor and lowered her crotch on his face.

"Your tongue! Give me your tongue and lick me, maggot!"

She was too much wrapped up in her passion to even perceive whether or not he was obeying when she started skidding on his face. She fucked his whole face rudely, rubbing her dripping wet pussy all over him, impaling his nose, groaning, hissing and crying. Her shining, sweat-covered tits swayed wildly. When her orgasm came, her body erected stiffly, all her weight pressing on his face. Her head fall back and she howled at the ceiling like a demon. She did not notice that he was desperately trying to avoid suffocating under her--but his helpless, restricted movements and the cries for mercy he shouted directly into her pussy added to her lust.

When it was over, the musky scent of her sex filled the room. She collapsed backwards. As soon as his mouth was free again he started wheezing violently. He was still alive--few seconds longer and he had died. She couldn't care less.

Rising to her feet, she felt bodily exhausted and mentally refreshed at the same time. Without even glancing at him, she walked over to the bed and laid down to rest and relax for a few minutes.

When she felt fresh again she rose and found him still lying on his back on the floor where she had left him. Looking down on him she saw a picture of misery: He was still sobbing and his face was daubed with all sorts of liquids--including ample amounts of her own juices.

"Stand up, sacrifice."

He tried to, but it wasn't easy to do with the tape around his ankles and his whole body feeling like he had been rolled over by a train. After some ungainly rolling on the floor he succeeded.

The pathetic appearance of this man, his pain and helplessness, re-activated her predatory instincts and her cruelty instantly. She felt a strong impulse to take some sharp and pointed metal instrument and to pierce and cut and rip him into small bloody lumps. No. She tried to cool down. The night was still long and he had to be still alive tomorrow night. At least a bit alive. At least as much alive as necessary for her needs.

She looked at his dick--it had shriveled. She was annoyed.

Pointing at it she snarled at him: "Hey, what about that? Where's your respect?"

He blushed. "I...I can not..."

"I very well see that you can't! But I can!"

She opened another drawer and took out two boxes, a syringe, and a cannula. "A combination of Papaverin and Phentolamin is the perfect help for a little wimp like you!" She growled while she took four ampoules out of each box and attached the cannula on the syringe.

"This dosage should keep you in shape for the rest of this night."

Returning to him with the filled syringe, she saw the fear in his eyes. She laughed.

"Oh boy! You're really afraid of a little injection? That's funny!"

Holding the needle close to his eyes she asked him in a mocking tone: "You know where this injection has to be placed, don't you?"

"Yes, Kali, I know."

"Unfortunately it won't even hurt much," she said, grabbed his penis and rammed the needle into the root of the organ.

As he noticed she was right, it was not much more than a short, sharp sting, followed by an unpleasant pressure. Nothing in comparison with the fire or the whip. Or the things to come.

When she withdrew the needle and saw the relief on his face she grinned evilly and said: "Of course there is no reason why I shouldn't play with this cannula on some more sensible parts of your body...what about this one?"

She grabbed his dick again. His member already began stiffening--whether caused by the drug or her manipulation seemed pretty irrelevant to her. Nearing the syringe to his glans she studied his facial expression. She laughed again.

"Such a little needle and so much angst! I bet you wouldn't be more afraid if I had an axe in my hand!"

"Oh NO!"

"Oh YES!" She replied giggling and touched his bulb with the sharp tip of the needle. It invaded without any pressure. He cried out shrill and flinched backward.

"Okay, sacrifice, if you want it this way..."

She grabbed his left ear tightly and tried to pull him along with her to the wooden cross on the wall. Her fingers slid off his sweaty ear. With an outcry of impatience she stormed to the cupboard with the instruments, fetched a flat nose pliers, and seized his ear with it. He yowled while she ripped him with her wordlessly--he still could not walk with the tape around his ankles and tried to keep with her by hopping but he stumbled and crashed onto the floor. The cruel instrument did not release his ear. She went on pulling him and he, crying with pain, followed her as fast as he could, crawling on the floor like a worm.

She though about whether she could rip off his ear like that--well, she might try that later. Now she wanted to fasten him on the cross. Her pulling brought him on his feet surprisingly fast. Dropping the pliers she bumped the small of his back against the intersection of the diagonal timbers.

"Dare you show any resistance now!" she shouted and cut off the tape at his ankles. After fixing both of his feet at the timbers she wanted to remove the handcuffs.

"Bow down! I need to reach the cuffs."

He obeyed, but she still could not reach the lock. Impatiently she put her hand at his rear and pushed him forward. He tumbled down--with his feet shackled at the cross and his hands still at his back, he had no chance to stop his fall. With a dull thud his face crashed on the marble floor. His body relaxed and he did not move anymore. Frowning, she looked at him and nudged his temple with the tip of her pump.

"Hey! Wake up!"

Few seconds later he began to move. He looked around with a dazed expression on his face--when he saw her, his memories seemed to return and along with the memories came the fright.

She opened her mind and received a mighty wave of fresh fear. Delicious. She sniggered, "No, sacrifice, that was NOT a bad dream! You're still here! Do you remember what we were about to do?"

"Umm...you wanted to chain me to this cross..." he replied lowly.

"Exactly. And then we wanted to stick some needles into your dick."

She removed the handcuffs and told him to stand up. With difficulties he managed to do so and let her shackle his hands at the topside of the wooden cross. She stepped back and enjoyed the aspect. His head looked pretty damaged: Blood dripping out of his nose and mouth, his forehead and right cheek were discolored by a large contusion caused by his fall, his left ear was mashed and bled. His hand was a bloody mess. His hair was sticking at his head, still wet from the champagne. The rest of him still looked quite undamaged, aside all the deep and dark red bruises from the whipping. Despite all this damage the drug had taken full effect meanwhile: He was showing a proud erection now.

She took it in her hand, and playing with it she cooed, "That's a nice one, sacrifice...so big and well shaped..." Laughing out she added: "That's what you wanne hear, don't you? Does it make you feel proud?"

"...I'm happy that it is good enough for you, Kali."

"That's a well-behaved boy!" she said, neared her mouth to his smashed ear muff, and whispered in her sexiest husky voice, "It will be in my wet, hot pussy while you die, sacrifice. I will cut it off before. Maybe already this night, maybe tomorrow. I will use it as a dildo. Maybe I will even keep it for one or two days. Do you like this idea?" She licked some drops of blood from his ear and then looked deeply into his eyes from a distance of few inches. Feeling his hot breath on her face.

Allowing him to connect his mind with hers for few seconds she relished the mad mixture of terror, arousal, and devotion he felt while he surrendered totally to her mind's superiority.

"And now for the needles," she said with sudden coldness.

He was frightened, and apart from that he was frustrated when she turned away from him. The moments when she was close to him, when she created a kind of intimacy, were all that he was here for, that were the moments when his mad desire became fulfilled, even though it always was a cruel kind of intimacy. Or just because of that: In this moments he experienced what he had dreamed of: An evil, cruel, merciless female mind focusing on him.

With her turning away from him his pain returned. He was drowning in pain. But in a way it was as if he had become accustomed to it: His life was different now, feeling pain and receiving new hurts and pain seemed to be normal now. And it would remain that way for the short rest of his life. He accepted it. His suffering would end in ecstasy when Kali would consume his life and soul. When he would experience his dissolution in her.

These spiritual reflections ended abruptly and were replaced by cold fear when he saw her returning to him with a stool in one hand, a collection of cannulas in the other and a mean grin on her face.

She placed the stool in front of him and sat down on it. Now for the first time he looked down on her. Presenting the needles to him she said: "You don't like these little pins, do you? By any strange reason men always seem to be frightened by needles...I will stick them into your dick now. Relax and enjoy!"

The first thing she did was ramming all of them into his thigh. Using it like a pincushion. Then she pulled out one of them with her right hand and seized his bulging penis with her left.

Taken away by panic, he could not restrain himself from wriggling and joggling on the straps, trying to get away.

He heard her giggling.

"Yeah, dance for me, sacrifice!"

Looking down he saw her placing the point of the first needle at the bulb of his dick close to the opening. She pushed it in parallel to his urethra in a fast move. A sharp sting and he cried out. But it was not as bad as he had expected. Obviously Kali had also noted that. She looked up at him and said mischievously: "Seems your angst had been the best part of this...but let's see how it feels when I stick in the next one more slowly!"

This time she placed the cannula at the side of his glans and pushed it in very slowly. That was much worse! He cried and when he opened his eyes for moments he saw her watching his facial expression intensely, licking her lips.

"That's better," he heard her voice from far away, "And how does this feel?"

Now she moved the needle back and forth and to the sides inside his glans, ripping its inner tissue with the sharp point of the needle. Each of her moves caused an accent of high pitched yelling to his cries.

"STOP! PLEASE PLEASE STOP IT!!"

"Isn't that interesting? Such a little device and so much effect!" She said casually while she continued playing with the needle. The pain was overwhelming and he was close to passing out.

Finally she stuck it in completely and pulled the third needle out of his thigh.

"And now let's see how sensible the outside is...hey, you won't pass out on me, will you...do you need a little refreshment? I don't want you to miss anything!"

Without waiting for an answer she stuck the needle back into his thigh, rose, walked to the refrigerator and filled a glass with mineral water. Despite all the pain that was still pulsating in his dick he relished the view of her sexy ass on the move as she walked away from him and the soft swinging of her large, white tits when she returned. He also realized that the hard clicking of her pumps on the stone floor when she neared him caused a wave of trepidation in him.

AN ICY GUSH of water hit his face--he gasped for breath.

"Better now? Are you awake again?"

He was. Apart from that he suddenly realized how dry he was and tried to lick some of the water from his face.

"Please Kali, may I please have something to drink?"

"No," she plainly replied while she sat down on the stool again, "But what about this?"

She took his dick again, bent foreword, and moved his member against her breasts, stroking her hard nipples with the head of it, pressing it against her tender flesh. Smearing the surprisingly small amount of blood that was dripping out of the wounds on her skin. He was torn between the increase of pain she caused when her tits touched the ends of the cannulas that were still sticking inside his dick and the delightful softness of her sweaty tits. He suddenly felt an aching need to spurt off. Somehow he had not realized how horny he had been all the time, now it nearly took him away. Without even perceiving it, he began to move his hips slightly against her as if he was fucking her tits.

She laughed.

"You're soooo horny, aren't you?" She asked mockingly, "I'm so sorry I can't help you! Indeed I guess I have to forbid you coming tonight."

Once again he realized that he could not hide anything from her. She did not only hold all the power in her hands, she also seemed to perceive any of his thoughts and feelings.

"Hmm...yeah, let's say: If you lose control and spurt off anytime this night I will crush your balls for punishment. You surely don't want that...though I might do it anyway...you never know."

She pulled the last cannula out of his thigh. This time she did not stick it into his flesh--instead of that she just scratched the sharp point over the surface of his bulb. Very slowly and almost softly--but still she drew blood with each move. That was worst of all! He fought and floundered and his head was close to explode from the pressure of his cries while she went on and on and on, giggling, and from time to time she bent down and sucked away the blood...and then drew more of it.

He passed out. And came back in no time when another gush of cold water hit his face.

"Tsk, tsk...if you can't even stand that--what will you do when I stick the needle into one of your balls?" He heard her mocking.

"No, please, Kali..." he pleaded weakly.

She took his sack that dangled helplessly exposed under his erected dick. She played with his balls gently and asked herself: "Hmmm...which shall I take?"

He knew she would do it anyway--and there was nothing he could do about it. He closed his eyes in resignation.

"Cheer up, boy!" she said, softly stroking his cheek, "I'll pierce both of them!"

He could not see what she was doing down there and he did not want to see it--with closed eyes he clenched his teeth and waited for the pain. He felt how her hand pressed his scrotum tighter, making his balls bulge out. Then the sting came. Crying out in anticipation he found out that the pain was bad, but not as terrible as he had expected.

"Interesting..." He heard her saying, "I had thought that would hurt much better...apparently you need a blunt trauma here for better effect...hey, sacrifice: You've just helped me to learn something new!"

He saw her standing up, her eyes scanning the floor for something--and his hair stood on end when he saw her taking up the flat nose pliers she had dropped earlier.

"Oh no .. no, no, don't do that! Please don't do that to me! PLEASE!"

"Shhhhhh...." She leaned herself against him, wrapping him up in her warmness and her arousing scent, pressing her tits against his chest, catching his throbbing dick between both' bellies. She kissed him, long and deep and wet.

"But I want it sooo much, sacrifice!" She whispered into his ear, then kissed him again. "Crushing your balls with this pliers will make me sooooo horny!" She took his aching dick and massaged it softly. "Don't you want to make me horny?" Now she sounded like a pouting little girl.

He was totally helpless. His was body shackled, and his mind was defenseless against her magic. He could not resist her. He knew that she was only poking fun at him and that she would do whatever she wanted anyway, but knowing this didn't help a bit. He was still putty in her hand.

"And you know what? You're allowed to fuck me while I smash your balls! I'll even allow you to come inside my pussy! What do you say--does that sound good?" Without waiting for an answer she kissed him again, still playing with his dick.

Finally she looked at him, demanding an answer.

He nodded lowly.

"Good boy!" She cooed and stroked his cheek briefly. After removing the cannulas from his dick and thigh, she seized his balls with the pliers, holding them tight without much pressure. She bent his dick down and pulled its still bleeding head towards her cunt. He felt his member slowly intruding her hot tightness. Their abdomens pressed against each other, only the cold, hard pliers were between them.

"Move you hips sacrifice! Fuck me!"

He did not need any further encouragement and started moving as best as he could in his restrains. She responded perfectly, despite the strange position they were in they soon found a rhythm and fucked wildly.

Then the pain started. She increased the pressure of the pliers. He groaned, she moaned. He saw her face coming closer, felt her wet tongue licking over his lips and cheeks and eyes like a cat, while his balls sent shrill, vibrating waves of torment through him. She withdrew her tongue and now her cruel eyes seemed to suck all the pain out of his face. It nearly ripped him into pieces: Fucking her, being horny as all hell, while his balls yelled pain, and his field of view was filled by Kali's face, writhed by cruel lust, her mouth open, licking her lips, grinning, relishing his suffering.

She reinforced the grip of the pliers even more. He started screaming...and came at the same moment, squirting endlessly, pushing his dick as deep inside her as he could. All that was left of the world was lust and pain...and then the lust ceased. But the pain was still there, and it increased more and more.

"Go on!" she cried, "Fuck me!"

His dick was still fully erected, but the pressure from the pliers now hurt so much he lost all control over his body. All he could do was screaming while his body shook and winced wildly in the chains. She clasped him tightly with her free arm, ramming her belly against him. He heard her starting to cry in her lust, and as she came closer to her climax she squeezed his ball harder and harder. She sank her teeth into his face, bit his lips, and kissed him again. And then she came and crushed his ball into paste and bit off the tip of his tongue at the same moment. The last thing he perceived was the sweet taste of his own blood filling his mouth--then he passed out again.

She still pressed herself against his limp, unconscious body and relished every last bit of ecstasy out of her fading orgasm while she sipped on the blood that was squirting out of his mouth. It was warm and thick and she loved its sweet and metallic taste.

When her orgasm had died away, she released his body and his dick slid out of her pussy with a wet, smacking noise. She swallowed the mash that her grinding teeth had left of the tip of his tongue.

She saw that there were still large quantities of blood flowing out of his mouth, dripping over his chest and belly, building a puddle on the floor. Since she did not want him to bleed to death now, she needed to stop the bleeding. She fetched a cauterization unit, opened his mouth and moved the metallic end of the device over the stub. It sizzled and stank, but the bleeding finally stopped.

She dropped into a chair. Idly smoking a cigarette and sipping on a drink, she mused how to proceed while she looked at him. A pitiful aspect: He was hanging limply in the shackles, his head sunken onto his chest, smeared with blood all over--only his still erected dick seemed completely unimpressed.

Listlessly she intruded sacrifice's mind and found nothing but blackness. He did not dream. By a small effort of concentration she forced him to awake.

Slowly he lifted his head and his dull eyes rambled over the room, finally finding her. He moaned and spit out some further blood and then moaned louder. It irritated her.

"I don't need your lamentation at the moment," she said coldly, stood up, and took a gag out of one of the lockers. Rudely forcing it into his mouth she ended his moaning--and caused additional pain to him when the ball pressed against his devastated tongue. She did not pay much attention to the tears that instantly shot into his eyes. She attached the leather band of the gag at the back of his head.

Back into the chair, scowling at him, she realized that she began feeling pissed off by him. She hated his sheepish eyes, glancing at her, trying to express silent pleads.

"Stop staring at me, asshole!" She shouted at him.

He instantly lowered his eyes.

Kali realized that she was totally out of the mood to proceed this session like before. More than that: Her former mood of intense, playful sadism became replaced by pure rage and aggression. Why did she have to play with only one victim for hours? Why did she have to keep him alive and be careful all the time? What she really wanted to do now was slaughtering busloads of people without even knowing their names or looking at their faces!

But for this night she was stuck with this pathetic guy hanging at the cross--and she could not kill him because Artemis would come tomorrow night to witness her sacrificing him.

Her rage drove her out of the chair and over to him.

"Listen maggot! The game is over now! No more playing and interaction. All you will get from now on is pure pain!"

She grabbed his hair and ripped his head upwards. He stared pleadingly at her again.

"Didn't I forbid you staring at me?!" She shouted and poked the long, sharp nail of her index finger into his right eye. He wriggled all he could in the restrains and the dull noises he produced sounded desperate. He escaped from her finger and pressed his lids tightly shut. Tears were dripping out of them though.

She slapped him brutally into the face and shouted: "Open your fucking eyes! I want to poke out one of them!"

He did not obey. He shook his head wildly, crying his lungs out behind the gag.

Kali grabbed him by the hair, smashed his head against the wall, and then forced her fingernail through his lids. Slowly she turned her finger around with increasing pressure till the eyeball burst and half of her finger vanished inside his head till it grounded on solid bone. Transparent liquid oozed out and flew over her hand. With an expression of disgust on her face she withdrew her finger and wiped her hand clean in his hair.

"One more look at me and this one is history too!" She brought her blood red claw dangerously close to his left eye.

"And now I wanne see how much pain you can stand without dying!"

She fetched a huge carpenters hammer and knelt down in front of him. Ferociously she bashed it on his toes. And again. And again. The dull whams reechoed through the dungeon. When she had turned either feet into bloody pulp she said, "And now let's test your knee reflexes!"...and bashed the hammer against his left kneecap. It shattered with the first stroke. For good measure she bashed against it again.

He passed out once more.

Impatiently she forced him back to consciousness with a short, lightning-like impulse of her mind. She was surprised: She had not even known that she was able to do that. All the better, she thought and proceeded her work with the hammer. Now she tried to smash his right shinbone. She had to apply half a dozen stokes till the bone gave in. Dumping the hammer she took a grip on the shin either sides of the fracture and tried out how much she could move it. Not very much, as she found out. She took the hammer again and kept on bashing against his shank, shattering the bone into small fragments. Now she could bend his leg most freely just as if there was a ball joint in the midst of his shinbone. She played with it for a while. She did not take much notice of his reactions, they were pretty monotonic anyway: He winced and wriggled and made the same boring dull noises behind the ball gag all the time. She also did not connect with his mind, at the moment she was not interested in his pain. In her perception he was reduced to a huge chunk of biological material she was playing with.

Standing up, she looked at him and thought about what to do next. Would be better to take him off the cross, she thought, so she would also have access to his backside. She did not like to control him mentally at the moment, so she needed to restrain him physically. Than again, she thought, he would not be able to use his legs anyway. If she also disabled his arms she would not need shackles anymore. More bashing with the hammer? No, let's make a change, she thought, walked to the chests and took out a short, sharp knife.

Returning to him she seized into one of his armpits and grabbled for the sinew of his pectoral muscle. It was easy to find. She cut into it. With a sharp snatch the sinew ruptured.

She could not palpate the sinew of the deltoid--so she simply cut all through the end the muscle. The biceps sinew was easy to find, it protruded distinctly because in his agony he tried to pull himself up in the shackles. In a moment of sudden anatomical interest she did not simply cut through it but made a long incision along its side, then poked the skin and flesh aside with her fingernails and looked at it. Hmm...not so interesting, she thought. She made a shallow cut into the sinew to see whether it would rive now by the weight of his body. It did not. Another little handiwork with the knife. Now she could see how the cut surface enlarged by itself--and with a sharp, whipping crack the sinew disrupted and its end sprang back.

Kali noticed that his deltoid was still bleeding strongly. The cauterization unit fixed this problem.

After repeating all the cuts on the other side of his body she opened the shackles. He crashed onto the floor and remained lying prone in a distorted pose.

"Crawl!" She shouted at him, kicking into the side of his chest. "I wanne see you move!"

He tried but he could not move ahead for a single inch.

"I bet I get you moving!" She said and fetched a whip. This one consisted of a short leather handle and a dozen of very thin, long metal filaments. She swung it through the air and it produced a fine, musical sound. Hitting on an idea she did not use it instantly but held the metal threats into the flames of the chimney fire. It did not take much time till they were glowing red.

She approached him with the whip in her hand. In panic he writhed stronger, but still did not manage to move his body ahead. Standing behind him she aimed at his nice, muscular butt, swung the whip and let it crash down. The effect was remarkable: The filaments did not recoil from his ass--instead of that they dug themselves deep into the flesh. It sizzled for seconds and some smoke soared till the metal had cooled down. Kali looked at it in fascination: Parts of the filaments had vanished under ugly, black stripes of charred flesh. Softly pulling on the whip she probed how tight the metal had melted with the flesh. Pretty tightly, as she realized. With little jerking moves she ripped the metal strings out of his body. Piece by piece, very slowly, while he rhythmically rammed his forehead against the stone floor. When she had ripped them free completely, she saw the strings were encrusted with black, charred tissue and covered with fresh, red blood.

Kali went back to the chimney to get the strings glowing again. She noted that he was following her actions with his eyes...well, with his eye. He shook his head violently and made another desperate attempt to obey her command and move ahead by pushing his body ahead with his left leg. He made it for about three feet till the pain grew too strong and he remained lying again.

"I want you here!" She snarled at him, pointing at the floor at her feet, just in front of the chimney.

The strings were ready again and when she walked over to him he started to move like a seal on the beach, in desperate fear of another vicious stroke with the glowing stings he tried to bob himself forward to the chimney. He made some further feet, leaving a trace of blood behind him on the floor.

His efforts were no reason for Kali to waive another stroke. The high, metallic whistling of the whip sounded again. This time she hit the backsides of his thighs. Same result as before: When she pulled the whip back out of his flesh she ripped a lot of muscle, fat, and skin out of his leg. Again, missing any better way of expressing his pain, he bashed his forehead against the marble.

She enjoyed this game and made the whip ready for the next stroke. Meanwhile he crawled on and had made nearly all the way to the chimney when she hit him again--this time at the upper side of this back.

She realized that her rage had vanished. She was having fun again. And she was becoming horny again, too.

He had reached the place in front of the chimney she had pointed to.

"Verrrrry good!" She mocked him. "You know, we have the best light here,"--And heated the filaments once more.

In mindless terror he tried to crawl away when he saw it. She laughed brightly and stopped him easily by some kicks.

"You don't expect any rewards for that little bit of crawling, do you?" She asked and frazzled another part of his back with the whip.

This was too funny, she simply couldn't stop. After five further stokes his backside from heels to neck looked like minced meat after few seconds on a grill.

"And now turn around, sacrifice, we don't want to neglect your front side!"

He did not move. Obviously his agony was too intense; maybe he had not even heard her.

She rammed her pump under his chest and turned him around rudely. Grinning down on him, she decided to ease his pain slightly--just enough to get him receptive for more pain. Intruding his mind again, she covered a part of the agony that was burning inside him and forced him to concentrate on her again.

About fifteen minutes later his chest and belly and the front sides of his legs were as shredded as his back. Most of him was raw meat now.

She was really horny by now and mused how to use him to get another, last, orgasm for this night. She felt like having it more comfortable this time, lying on the bed, masturbating while she relished his pain. Doing that she wanted to watch him while he was struggling.

She hit on an idea.

Crouching down to him she allowed him to look at her with his left eye and whispered endearingly: "Listen, sacrifice: Your torments will soon be over for this night, but I need you one more time. You have to be very brave now...I need your dick, but I can't take the rest of you with me on the bed...you would soil all the linen with your blood. I'm sure you understand that. So unfortunately I have to cut off your dick now...By the way: It still looks marvelous!" She gently stroked his member, which, thanks to the drugs, was still in perfect shape and ready to work.

She fetched a pair of handcuffs and applied them on his wrists, then she dragged him under the gallows construction. She replaced the rope with the noose and attached an other rope that had a steel hook at its end. After attaching the hook at the cuffs she pressed a button at the side of the gallows and he became pulled up until he dangled with his feet about one foot above the floor. With his sinews cut off he hung totally limp, all he could move were his legs, but moving them would mean utter pain due to the fractures. The blood that was still running out of his countless wounds dripped down from his feet and formed a small puddle on the floor.

After wrapping two threads of nylon around the base of his dick, Kali looked into her drawers for an appropriate instrument for the amputation. She decided in favor of a pair of scissors. Returning to him she clacked with the scissors in front of this face and asked: "Have I ever told you that I'm a feminist?" She giggled and placed the scissors between the nylon threads. Refusing the temptation to cut his dick off with one single cut she only cut through a part of it at the bottom side. He wildly shook his head around and produced the same dull moaning as all the time.

"Hmm...guess it's fair to allow you making some last comments," she said and removed his gag. "Do you wanne say something before I proceed?"

But he did not speak, instead of that he just yelled with a surprisingly high-pitched voice.

Kali grinned, licked her lips and scissored through the rest of the organ. Because of the yarns there was no larger loss of blood--neither from him nor from the base of her new toy.

She glanced at the organ in her hands. It looked somehow surrealistic the way it lay in her hands without a man being attached to it. It felt warm and firm and it was surprisingly lightweight. She seized the head of the organ and bent it--when she released it, the dick bopped back into a straight form.

"Nice thingy!" She said and added: "Too sad it will be rotting so soon."

Casually she threw it over to the bed where she intended to use it--and missed. It smacked on the floor with a wet noise.

"Ooops!" She said and turned her attention back to him. He looked funny with his sack, now dangling so lonely between his legs.

He was still screaming and his face was a mask of terror.

"I want you to dance for me, sacrifice! Move your hips and make me laugh while I masturbate with my new dildo!"

He showed no reaction.

"Okay, I'll help you a bit," she said and fetched a large iron bowl. At the chimney she filled it with burning pieces of wood and brought it back to him.

"Eew, its hot!" She hissed when she dropped it on the floor and then pushed it directly under the bloody, mashed lumps that were left of his feet after her recent games with the hammer. It worked instantly: He began struggling violently with his legs to get his feet away from the fire. Drops of his blood leaked into the bowl and produced little fizzling noises.

Kali nodded contentedly. "That's what I wanted to see! Hope you have it warm and cuddly now!"

She strolled over to the bed, picking up the severed dick on her way. Dropping between the cushions she made herself comfortable, lying with perfect view on her struggling, writhing, crying and weeping victim about ten feet away.

"You look very sexy now, sacrifice!" She told him while she waved him a mocking greeting with his dick in her hand before she stuffed it into her pussy.

All that was left of him was agony. He could not even distinguish between the sources of pain all over his body, it all mixed up into one large, white-hot sea of pain that he was swimming in. The only difference was caused by the fire under his feet: As soon as his power was fading and he let his legs relax, the pain at his feet increased within moments to an unbearable level and forced him to struggle on.

He had lost the power to cry out his pain, his voice had become croaky and finally had died away completely. All he was still able to utter were raw, sobbing noises.

Every now and then he glanced over to Kali--and for moments he realized that what he saw would have made him very horny...if he still had a dick. Kali lay on her bed, soaked all over with sweat and blood--his blood, as he realized. She lay with her legs spread widely and her cunt shamelessly stretched against him, masturbating with his former member, groaning and writhing in lust, staring at him all the time and shouting obscenities, insults and ridiculing comments at him.

His last reserves of power ran dry. He could no longer move and his body went limp. His feet hung down into the bowl, the flames licked at his soles and the pain nearly killed him...he craved death so much, but he knew that she would not allow him to die this night.

The last thing he heard while his feet carbonized and he slowly passed out were the noises of Kali, enjoying her orgasm.

Only for a short time he found relief in black nothingness. He woke up when his body crashed onto the hard stone floor. Back in the hell of his pain, he looked directly at one of Kali's black pumps that nudged against his face. Lifting his head he looked up to her, she appeared like a huge, female demon hovering above him.

"Enough for tonight," he heard her say, "I need to rest--we'll on with the fun tomorrow. Now get over there to the cage," she pointed at one of the small steel cages at the wall.

When he unsuccessfully tried to move she sighed, took his hands, and dragged him to the cage. Obviously she was tired and no longer in the mood for any games and just wanted to finish this quickly.

She carelessly dropped his limp arms when he was lying in front of the cage; she opened it and told him to crawl inside. That seemed impossible to him: The cage was definitely too small for him, it was about three and a half feet long, had a width of about two feet and a height of also about two feet.

"Turn on you back!" She hissed at him.

He wasn't fast enough for her impatience--she accelerated his efforts by some vicious kicks into his ribs. When he had managed to roll himself on his back, she took his flaccid arms and rested them onto his body. His hands rested between his legs and he felt the terrible emptiness there--all that his hands found was a stump. She seemed to have noticed the sadness in his face and mocked: "Yeah, I guess you'll face some difficulties if you try to wank off tonight!"

Then she took his ankles and placed his knees on his chest, sending another wave of nameless agony through him. Now she knelt down, placed her hands at his ass cheeks and pushed him rearwards into the cage. When his head nudged against the bars at the end of the cage she cursed: "Shit! You're too long. Put your chin on your chest!"

He was so weak he couldn't even lift his head.

She shouted aggressively: "Lift your fucking head or I'm taking an axe and chop you into matching size!!!"

That helped, suddenly he could do it and with a last, powerful jerk she pushed him another half foot farther inside. Now his shoulders and the backside of his neck and head were pressed against rear lattice. She slam shut the door, which forced his feet further backward, pressed his knees deeper into his chest and lifted his ass from the ground. He lay in the cage in the twisted pose of a roasting chicken.

He saw her standing up, throwing a last indifferent look at him and then turning to leave without any further word. He followed her with his eye when she left the dungeon--was she mocking him with the cheerful swinging of her hips? Did she feel his look on her adorable ass?

The door shut behind her. He was alone. And he was lucky: He passed out soon.

After minutes or hours of horrible nightmares he woke up from a shattering and rattling noise around him. She was back. Another kick against the lattice startled him completely. Through the bars of the cage he saw her standing above him in the sparse light of the last burning torches. She wore a red bathrobe.

"Thought I couldn't leave you here without a little refreshment, after all that you've gone through this night!"

She swung one leg over the cage, crouched down above him and lifted the hem of her bathrobe.

"Enjoy, sacrifice!"

She wouldn't...yeah, she would: A hot gush hit his face. She moved the jet downwards and showered all of his mutilated body with her piss. It etched into all of his wounds and burned like acid.

When the last drops had fallen on him she rose, looked down on him and said: "Have a good night! See you tomorrow!"

And left him again.

He spent the rest of the night lying in a quickly cooling puddle of her piss, unable to even wipe it out of his face.

To be continued...