Theresa's Punishment Part 13

"Harder! Or you will perish in this room," spat the female, and returned to addressing her observing pupils.

a.s.sured that she would implode at any second, Theresa threw the weapon around with a vigorous hack and made herself jolt with the sudden intensity of the leather kiss. Without delay, she flung it about again and etched contused stripes across her back. Crying out in suffering and humiliation, she applied the strokes continually. She jerked on her knees and sweat dripped from her a.s.sailed form. Her one wish was to end the ordeal via her only way to do it. How much longer would she be targeted for this maltreatment? Her heart was torn with her own grief as the whip acted instinctively, her body moving to seek reprieve without any instruction from herself. It seemed almost as though the act was being committed almost by someone else.

With tears rolling down her face and dripping from her chin, Theresa continued the self-abuse. She mercilessly whipped each portion of her back and was more humbled by this public display of her defeat than any other act performed on her.

As her back pounded with heat and her limbs ached from the ethereal fist and the web of cords, her thoughts were lost within a whirlwind of suffering and derogation. These combined effects caused her not to notice her own looming black out until the swelling pressure overwhelmed her already amply a.s.sailed form.

With a swooning topple, she slapped to the floor. Her limbs flicked weakly as she fought to stay conscious so she might finish the task and gain true release. She knew all to well that the faint in no way guaranteed that the pressure would not be allowed to roll onward until she was slain.

The vision of the High Theocrat wavered and started to distort. The dissipating clarity formed into a sheet of vague blackness and consciousness again vanished.

* * * * Harsh slaps to her cheeks drew Theresa from the faint. The stinging smacks made her lift her hands to provide shelter but they were grabbed and hauled out and snared in manacles before she was fully aware of what was going on. The heavy metal bonds inflated their pillows of rubber and created a firmer grip.

Theresa flicked open her eyes and the pane of light revealed Pelakh looming over her. The adolescent yanked out Theresa's legs and clapped fetters to them. The matching bonds sealed themselves and kept her splayed upon the ground, helpless and promiscuously exposed.

Rolling her head about, she saw that she was still in the pressure chamber, save that the gawking crowds had gone, and the Theocrat had deserted her to this lonely fate at the mercy of her most vindictive oppressor.

The youth turned around, and put a thigh booted heel onto Theresa's stomach. The rapier heel dug in and her body rested on it to escalate the effects. Grimacing, Theresa tensed against her bonds but the restraints were fastened into the ground and denied her any movement.

The cords had been removed to leave her naked, save for the purple lines that the thin bonds had drawn. The fierce whip marks still coated her back as a detailed portrait of selftorture and grumbled with renewed mayhem whenever she moved and leaned on them.

"Did you enjoy that lesson, slave?" uttered the girl, giggling in insult of her plight.

Pelakh trailed the heel down and etched a long scratch to make Theresa gurgle and whimper. Her senses were still recovering and this left her incapable of full retaliation or the power to answer the girl.

"The High Theocrat certainly has a penchant for picking you as our torture subject. Still, it only serves my purpose all the better. If you can stay alive, you should have an excellent capacity for endurance at my initiation. Yet, I shall have to continue my own abuses to ensure success, of course, this is too important to risk on variables and unknowns," she said.

Pelakh flicked the shifting b.u.t.tons on a small bracelet and the crystal panel scrolled with tiny data streams from which she made her choices. Instantly, weighty panels parted and revealed implements of torment.

Theresa closed her eyes and groaned inwardly. Her body was still raw from the scrutinised torture and the prospect of renewed attention was mortifying. The girl was targeting her in moments that were supposed to permit her recovery. How could she hope to weather such intense attentions from two such implacable foes?

Pelakh removed a fat candle from within the cabinet. She flicked a lighter and forged a tall flame on the wick. The lights of the room winked out instantly and let the candle take sole responsibility for the lighting of the room. It cast crazy shadows across the chamber and the dancing fire became a foreboding sight.

Dagger heels clicked onto either side of her waist as the girl stood astride her. Pelakh towered over Theresa's form as the warm glow of the candle lit her pale skin with an amber sheen and the light sparkled on her polished clothing. The room was a cell of midnight and the only reality intruding into it was Pelakh's malevolent form. Her face turned from a sneer into a wicked devilish smirk as the obscuring darkness was drawn across her features.

"You want me to succeed, don't you? You wouldn't want your favourite owner to fail in her most import task?"

"Yes, Miss, of course I do, I only want you to have everything you want," Theresa lied. She was plagued with concern and willing to say anything. Her dignity was long gone and the concentrated and relentless a.s.sault on her person was eclipsing what her masochism could delight in.

The candle hovered over her and the burning wick forged a molten well around itself. The girl swayed it threateningly and bent at her middle. One hand was placed on her thigh to prop her up and she lowered the cylinder in the other.

"That is a rea.s.suring sentiment, slave. So now we continue your training, readying for the day when I will break you, torture you beyond all mercy, gouge and slice, mutilate and maim. Oh how I want to hear you squeal to the heavens, your body coming apart under my touch. Does that not sound fun, slave?" she mocked, giving a shiver of delight at the mere thought of such atrocity.

Theresa could only weep in sorrow. Her fate was more grisly and loathsome than ever before.

"And then, to have you bound tight, your shattered, crippled form on the verge of death, kept alive only on my whim, and then, slowly, ever so slowly, I will cut your skin from you. Starting from your ankles, working up each leg, shedding the flesh as you howl. Then your arms, from wrist to shoulder. Then your back, b.u.t.tocks, your belly and chest. I shall peel those b.r.e.a.s.t.s like fruit, and then, around your neck and off comes your face and scalp. And I shall ensure you live to that point, because I will show you a mirror. I want you to see your naked, raw face, your exposed and bleeding flesh, just for a moment before I throw your skin around my shoulders and leave you to die."

Pelakh let her weep for a few moments, sobbing in horror at the prospect of what would be while soaking up her distress like nectar.

A gradual tilt made Theresa tense and brought her back to her more imminent travail. The sight of the increasing slant forced her to solicit a stop. She was thinking of the present as the future made her soul turn to ice.

"Please, Miss. I need to rest, I can't take this again."

"Be silent, slave, or I will enforce your quietude," warned the girl, and without further warning, she poured.

Faint splashes spattered across Theresa's stomach. The strangely dry, almost alcoholic touches suddenly gave way to a shot of blistering heat that made her jolt and try to shake the droplets off as the results of the continued landings. The drips formed into frozen, opaque splashes that grew solid and then cracked while her abdomen bucked and flexed from the searing kisses being placed about her torso.

Another line was drawn down over her hips and meandered into her inner thighs. The soft flesh reviled the ardent coating. The applause of her b.u.t.tocks jumping up and slapping the ground with her fight for freedom eclipsed her gurgling croaks and yelps. The girl was methodically targeting the tenderest regions. She was serving her own need for revenge and advancement through Theresa's methodical and atrocious preparation.

Petrified stalact.i.tes hung from the quivering flesh of her thighs. Trickles ran down underneath and the loosed drops landed on the floor. Turning from this well coated region, Pelakh drew it up to her cleavage and inspired Theresa to throw her b.r.e.a.s.t.s from side to side while trying to avoid the impending descent of scalding droplets. Her breath slipping out as ragged pants and brief squeaks of shock.

A lethargic pour unleashed the acc.u.mulated reservoir and sent drips across her a.s.sets. Bouncing and jiggling, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s churned with havoc the more Pelakh applied the molten issue. She sent stray drool into her armpits for added woe and this left her unable to predict the next zone of attention. The subsequent affliction finally wrung screams from Theresa and the cries rose higher when the girl dropped the candle between Theresa's parted legs. Following this with a prolonged cascade directly into her shaven s.e.x, the excruciating application made her howl in a single monotonous tone of screeching pitch. Theresa continued until the multiple coats served to protect and finally let the original effects dwindle.

"Are we nice and warm now, slave?" crooned the girl, stepping away and replacing the candle now that Theresa had been effectively decorated with biting tears of intensity.

The lights were switched on and the candle blown out, restoring illumination and revealing in full the slender needle held up in Pelakh's pinch. The tip sparkled with odious import as the lights lifted to normal power.

"No, Miss, don't, I beg of you," Theresa sobbed. The prospect of further piercing of her body was terrifying her.

"The word 'no' is not for your vocabulary, slave. And do not try and tell me what to do. After all I have taught you and done to you, you still try to resist me. I can see I will have to step up your private tutoring if I am to ensure success," she replied.

Pelakh knelt down to the creak of stretching hide and started a routine of idle and brutal picking at the frozen pools of lumpy wax. p.r.i.c.king Theresa often to make her writhe, the removal of the wax proved an ordeal in itself.

The procedure was performed in the same path as the application. It started with her belly, then her inner thighs, and the final unbearable attendance of her armpits and b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Those into her s.e.x were the worst of all and the scratching point caused wild throes despite her most fervid attempts to stay still in case her writhing caused an accidentally stab.

The last particles were picked free like wayward scabs, and Theresa breathed a sigh of relief from mistakenly thinking that her trial at the hands of Pelakh was over.

"All that heat must have been uncomfortable for you, perhaps you would like to cool off somewhat?" offered Pelakh.

The pretence of kindly consideration was so blatantly false that Theresa knew it to be a prelude to dreadful infliction.

"No, Miss, I am fine, really. Do not trouble yourself with anything, I am not worthy," she rashly stated, trying to stop the intended and mysterious torment awaiting her.

"Nonsense, I insist," Pelakh stated firmly.

The shackles and fetters jumped open with a flicking touch to her bracelet as the thin band took command of the locks.

"Come here," she hissed.

Pelakh strode striding towards the wall where her mere touch to the jewellery at her wrist brought action.

A portion of the floor began to open and it let faint misty trails rise and skulk upon the ground. Theresa resigned herself to the imprisonment and rolled over onto her front. She lifted herself upon stolid limbs and slowly crawled over to where Pelakh stood lounging against the wall, waiting for her slave to comply.

When she was closer, Theresa felt the brush of radiant cold from the pit and stopped suddenly. An icy tomb was a prospect that had never before been imposed on her, and the thought of it eclipsed her ability to comply.

Theresa backed up warily with her face dissolved into a masque of dread.

"No, Miss, not this, anything but this. You'll kill me," she whimpered, hoping that she could evade it.

"Get in there, slave!" she growled.

Theresa shook her head and continued to retreat. Scuffling in a crouched position, her back b.u.mped the wall and deprived her of any more s.p.a.ce to withdraw into. Without any change in her expression, Pelakh walked to the opened cabinet and s.n.a.t.c.hed a crop with a wild grab. She swung it to limber up the weapon while sauntering back towards the cowering slave.

"Do as I command, you cringing piece of filthy Terran sc.u.m," she growled.

The girl launched a frivolous swipe up into the underside of Theresa's breast. The stroke made a ripple run though it and Theresa flung herself to the floor. She clapped a hand to the trauma but her exposing of her back was a gift that Pelakh freely accepted. The villainous girl delivered an overhead hack that drew a long welt across the softer shade of Theresa's own whip marks.

Theresa sprawled upon the floor and pounded her fists to the solid ground. She cried out as Pelakh continued to apply the crop with heavyhanded force and the searing strokes sought to drive her into the freezer. The language was more vibrant than any verbal expression.

Blow upon blow fell, eroding her resistance until finally she could tolerate no more. Theresa hurled herself forward with a reckless dash and scampered to the hole. Pelakh maintained her brutal attention throughout the brief journey.

Pelakh stamped down with a spiteful stab and sank her heel onto Theresa's rump to tether her to the one spot. The biting dagger made her throw her hands back and weakly paw at the boot. Her fingers brushed the polished material without effect while she choked and spluttered.

"If you fear it so much, maybe I should prepare you for it," she said.

Turning her boot, she escalated Theresa's response, and pinned at the edge of the pit, Theresa could do nothing as the girl reached in and s.n.a.t.c.hed a small tray of ice cubes. Pelakh bent the tray back to loosen them within the plastic grooves and gave a soft groan of sultry rapture at what she was intending for them.

"Now stay still, slave," she uttered, and removed one of the frozen chunks.

Pelakh leaned over to increase the weight on the heel and allow her to force it into Theresa's rear without her subject escaping. A stab from fore and middle finger slipped it over her sphincter and the cold made her air a pip of shock as the object slithered up into her and lost itself in the twists and turns of her belly. The pa.s.sage was distinct and revealed by the movement of the cold spot through her, and then another was added. Pelakh defeated Theresa's fervently barred rear and clenched orifice with a harsh shove.

"Doesn't this bring back fond memories of when you were my maid, slave?" she chuckled and callously stuffed another into Theresa.

"A few more of these will acclimatise you, don't you agree?" she said.

Another cube was forcibly injected to bolster the arctic chill in her belly. The small reservoir of water in her a.n.u.s was growing and chill trickles were already escaping and flowing over her p.u.s.s.y.

"I asked a question, slave. Answer it!" growled Pelakh and as she twisted the heel deeper to make the dimple in her b.u.t.tocks grow, Pelakh hooked a gloved finger into the rim of Theresa's sphincter and tugged at it viciously. The punishing of the opening dragged a swift response from the slave.

"Yes, Miss! I do!" she squeaked, and grimaced as another of the tray's products was stuffed into her and caused her stomach to cramp in sudden fits.

The tray dropped before her gaze and the remaining dozen or so cubes jumped in their slots.

"Eat them," demanded Pelakh with a smirk.

With a despairing sob, Theresa slithered her arms around and started to eject the frozen blocks. She lifted them up one by one and dropped them into her mouth where she hoped to melt their size a little before obeying the wicked youth.

"Don't just suckle on them! Swallow them whole!"

Theresa devoured the solid and large pill with a strained gulp. Its radiant effects tainted her gullet and the cold was deposited throughout the pa.s.sage into her stomach, its harsh contradiction to her warm tracts afflicted her terribly.

"And the rest," warned Pelakh, forcing Theresa to eat the entire cache.

Theresa obeyed with dejected effort. She individually ate the chunks until the last of them was devoured and the rigid lump trailed down her oesophagus. Her soft insides pressed to the solid nugget and her tracts were having trouble accommodating it. They were melting at an annoying slow rate and were ferociously distinct within her body.

The boot jumped back and a gentle kick between her legs goaded Theresa forward.

"Now get in," she demanded.

Theresa threw herself into the sunken freezer and landed upon an icy, frost covered interior. She instantly regretted her obedience and span to get out again, only to have a transparent pane snap shut over her. Slamming punches to the new ceiling, she felt the arctic claws beginning to insidiously tunnel into her, numbing her skin, conspiring with the cold inserted in mouth and rear to make her shiver even against the heat of her desperate exertions.

The soles of feet stepped onto the lid of the cramped box and allowed Theresa to stare up across the inside of Pelakh's legs to her loins and thong divided b.u.t.tocks. The girl was looking down into the fog-shrouded interior and revelling in Theresa's nightmare situation. The cold continued to creep deeper and deeper into her flesh and her lungs were tormented from inhaling the frozen air. Theresa begged and pleaded with her tyrant, soliciting exit, ignorant as to whether or not the girl could even hear her.

Weeping in misery, her fight began to slow. The weariness and the effects of her arctic confinement conspired to make her wither before Pelakh's intense stare.

Begging in muttering whimpers, Theresa wept. She was unable to tolerate this heinous prison. The feel of all life draining gradually from her was distinct and appalling.

"You know what I want to see?" announced Pelakh, her words filtering through to seep into the prison. The sounds were muted under Theresa's breath as it emerged in billowing clouds and echoed throughout the close interior.

Thinking across her past with this female, Theresa could only find one constant other than fickle and intense amounts of torture. Theresa reached down between her legs and began to caress herself. She stroked her pierced c.l.i.toris and then let her finger delve and flit. The responses she managed to acquire from the tender bud were faint and almost nonexistent. All feeling had been driven back into her by the onslaught of the cold. Her sense of touch was withdrawing like a defeated army who was falling back into the warmer climates still to be found within her torso.

Hoping to placate Pelakh's innate hunger for cruelty, Theresa gathered her flagging energy and started to moan and writhe upon her own tickling touch. She vastly exaggerated the meagre bliss she was bestowing herself but then it started to gather strength once more. Her eyes loitered up at the elegant form rising over her and despite everything the girl was doing to her, her body started to surge with libidinous rhapsody. How was it that she could fear, hate, and l.u.s.t after a person so intently and with such contradiction and alternating viewpoints? Was she in love with her? Only the insanity of love could explain such varied and consuming emotions.

There was no way to confirm or deny that her thinking was accurate, or even remotely plausible, her sanity being a commodity that may well have been depleted by her long and arduous captivity. Were all her opinions and thoughts corrupted now? Was there any shred of herself left that had not been deeply marked by her being owned by the demented legions of the Phed Dregakk?

The response had the desired effect, and Pelakh's wish to ensure only the darker sensations arose to savage Theresa with delight. The effect of humiliation at performing so brazenly was Pelakh's only motivation for tolerating it, she liked to see the intense confusion it caused to her property.

Theresa yelped and jerked against the cold walls while o.r.g.a.s.m ran through her like a flash flood. The lid started to draw back as she calmed down and the girl rode upon it before stepping off at the last moment.

"Get out," she exclaimed, jabbing a finger in indication.

Theresa lifted her shaking hands and placed them to the lip. With a mighty effort she managed to crawl free of the icy cell and drop onto the ground. The floor was now a warm and glorious feeling to her pale, blue tinted flesh. Her shivering and chattering teeth made her shuffle wildly upon it and soak up more of the warmth.

The freezer closed and vanished amidst the smooth unbroken panel that was the floor. A door appeared for Pelakh to seek egress and with a final despising giggle at Theresa's condition, the girl left, deserting Theresa to the isolation and the period of recovery she was supposed to gain.

Huddling into a ball for warmth, she closed her eyes and rested her weary frame. Her exertions had once more left her a somnolent husk.

With battering willpower, she forced herself into slumber and denied her addled and terrified thoughts opportunity to keep her awake with the knowledge that she was a.s.sured of more focus from the evil despots.

The hiss of the door as it opened lifted Theresa from her light snooze. Her few hours of deep sleep had been followed by a period of fitful slumber where she languished in faint dazes, drifting in and out, her mind plagued by her looming fate.

Theresa looked up from her foetal ball and saw the High Theocrat marching in, alone. The woman's attire was vastly simplified on this occasion. It was a deviation from the usual ceremonial vestments that suggested that this time she was visiting for a private encounter, one without the blasphemous study of the student body. A polished catsuit of rubber flowed along her every contour. It hugged her frame and sealed her within a comprehensive sh.e.l.l because the garment incorporated gloves and boots with no seam apparent. It rose to a high neck and had a black corset of hide laid over it. The hourgla.s.s sheath drew in her sides and was laced with rows of wicked spines down each strut of boning. In her hands, she held a collar and lead, and a whip whose bone handle coughed out a plume of six fat strips of thick latex. The single concession to jewellery was a silvery bracelet that was adorned with the crystal panel that permitted the tyrant's control over their mechanised torture chambers.

"Do not regard me with your filthy stare, you dollop of worthless base flesh," she reviled.

The woman stepped forward and whirled the whip to paint several flushed lines into Theresa's side. The sudden hot infliction made her scuttle forward out of range and keep her sight low.

"I have a new task for you. One that should admirably suit a life form as pathetic and lowly as yourself. Though I think it may be too vaulted a mission even for you. The products you will be handling are vastly more precious and valuable than a Terran ape. Do you think you can be trusted, slave?" she asked.

Wandering around Theresa's cowering form, her heels stepped out a recurring beat as she pondered. The sound made Theresa quiver as though the cold had returned.

Should she solicit this task? It was probably a ruse to have her willingly draw herself into a terrible lot, but it would at least get her away from Pelakh. If she was performing for the High Theocrat's personal amus.e.m.e.nt, Pelakh would not be able to find her. Although she hated this woman more than she had hated anyone, Theresa knew that it was a choice between one or both, and so she opted to try and alleviate her trials.

"I can, Supreme G.o.ddess. Give me a chance, I will not let you down, I swear it."

The High Theocrat grinned. Theresa was almost there. This last final abuse would bring her to fruition, then after one last safeguard was installed, this belittled human would know power, authority, and revenge, while she herself would know the pleasures of ownership, humiliation, and subservience to a cruel mistress. Depravity and indulgence was the Dregall way, but she had gone to the limits of sadism, it was time to continue her voyage.