Theresa's Punishment Part 3

Unfastening his breeches, he unlocked her thong and drew out the d.i.l.d.os, letting them dangle from the front lock as he worked. Theresa sank her teeth onto her bit as he slid into her and started to caress her cleavage.

"What are you doing!" spat a familiar feminine voice, the syllables hissed with utmost disgust.

The groom jerked away and began to babble excuses. Theresa turned slowly and saw Pelakh glowering at them both with hands on hips. She had changed clothing for whatever the occasion demanded. She stood before the sly scene in lace front thigh boots that flowed up her legs. There were studded bootstraps at the feet and a slender glimpse of bare skin existed at the top before the hem of a latex mini dress took over and rose up to encase her abdomen and torso. The garment cast slender studded straps over her shoulders and opened to allow the low cut to swing between them. A waspie belt drew in her waist, the laced front overlaid with three equally s.p.a.ced buckled straps. Opera gloves ran her arms and a studded choker encircled her throat while her hair had been spiked and set into a flowing mane that granted a wild and frenzied visage.

"You depraved pervert! What is your name?" she demanded.

"Me ... Menchev, M ... Miss," he stammered, terrified now that his impious secret was laid bare before a fellow Dregakk.

"I shall tell my father of this malfeasance," she said, and turned but did not immediately walk away to inform on the perpetrator. It was a delay that was blatantly designed to encourage pleas, which of course spilled forth freely in the available moment of hesitation.

"Please, Miss, don't, I will give you whatever you want, just don't tell anyone, I implore you."

Pelakh turned with a menacing sloth to regard the cringing form. Her eyes were glinting with the dark joy that Theresa had seen when helpless under the girl's torturing hands.

"Then you will do as I say, or I shall expose your deviant tendencies for the whole Theocracy to mock," she testified with grim formality.

"I understand," the groom said drearily.

"Then get on your knees and lick my boots," ordered Pelakh.

A wide smile broke across her features. It was the ultimate in degradation, to make a dominant submit and grovel, to fawn at her feet and obey her whims. The adolescent seemed to be in rapture at this victory.

The groom was momentarily too stunned to speak, let alone act, but Pelakh was expert in destroying resistance. She barked her order again, leaving no doubt that she would ruin him if he failed to comply, while also using such authoritative power in her tones that he was almost solely controlled by her voice.

With no alternatives to public humiliation, he accepted the private version. Menchev lowered and began to lap at the smooth shiny surfaces, his tongue gliding upon the featureless plains of the thigh boots. Pelakh drank in a deep breath and continued with her commandments.

"Now, continue where you left off, with the filly."

"I can't, not in front of-"

"DO IT!" she snapped, making him jump with shock.

Moving almost as an automaton, the groom arose and went to Theresa. He pushed her to the wall and mounted her once more, only this time his enthusiasm was absent and his hands no longer strayed across her flesh. Theresa could almost feel him burning with subjugation, and it was this that riled her the most because his att.i.tude towards her was so lowly that he was almost dying of shame from having public intercourse with her. Yet, she could not react or resist, because this was a game between the Dregakk. If she disturbed it, both of the players would make her suffer.

Pelakh studied the act with amus.e.m.e.nt, but the exhibitionism was stopping him from acquiring climax. Humiliation proved the most powerful anti-aphrodisiac.

Pelakh scoffed at him with a huff of disapproval before changing the conditions of her blackmail once more.

"If you cannot do it with her, do it yourself. Get down on your knees and m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.e."

He looked round with shock and met her black stare. Theresa had been subjected to that same glower and she saw his revolt wither and against it. With hesitancy, he drew free of Theresa, lowered, and slowly complied. He closed his fingers about his shaft with his head hung low in disgrace before commencing with a stolid shuffle.

"Get your head up and look me in the eyes," she said, intent on savouring every aspect of this infamy.

He acquiesced with eyes full of despair at being demeaned so.

"That's better. That's much much better." better."

The girl stepped forward and offered up her leg for him to lap at with his tongue while he worked. It was an act he performed with little gusto. He clearly just wanted to get this over with and his hand was a blur of frenzied movement as he sought to provide visual confirmation that he was done. With a weak shudder, he came, and the girl stepped back to witness the fruits of his work.

"That's it, all of it, milk it dry," she chuckled.

The act was one that innately brought a flicker of ecstasy, but clearly he could not acknowledge it and so he hid the occasional dull quiver of his body. Theresa had endured this herself, and could tell that the burning disgrace was eating at his psyche.

Pelakh stepped inward and dipped fore and index finger into the sporadic spots of s.e.m.e.n. She scooped up the issue and then lifted it to his mouth.

"See? You've spoiled my glove. Clean it, with your mouth," she commanded with a virulent glower corrupting her joyful expression.

As the fingers closed in, the groom turned away, revolted. Pelakh grabbed his chin and wrenched his face forward. Lifting her digits, she dug them into his cheeks and parted the maw for her hovering, tainted fingers.

"You think it disgusting? That mouth of yours has been on an animal, you hideous deviant. How dare you spurn a Dregakk when you consort with a mere pony!"

Theresa watched the groom try to pull away as the two black rods darted forward with thick treacle hanging from the rounded tips. Pelakh held firm until they were in.

Whatever his intention might have been, as soon as he felt the cooled tang of the salty ooze upon his tongue, Theresa saw his face screw up in revulsion and he immediately fought to get away.

Pelakh had antic.i.p.ated this, of course, no doubt from the reaction human males gave to these very same delights when she performed them, and so she lanced inward, locking her arms to his head, and wiping the residue about the interior of his mouth.

Pelakh threw him away like a discarded toy and lifted herself up. She straightened her clothing with regal satisfaction as the groom coughed and spat out what he could from a kneeling stoop.

"You don't like that taste? Well, if Dregakk does not suit your palate, maybe we should cleanse it with the fare you seem to find so much more agreeable."

Pelakh marched over to Theresa, grabbed her, and pushed her back to the wall. She unfastened the front of her strap and let the d.i.l.d.os drop to the ground. With soft kicks of her pointed toe into Theresa's legs, she made her spread them wide.

"Well, get in there and service this filly," she ordered.

Menchev was defeated and he knew it. He had no wish to perform the act but at least he would be spared having to see Pelakh when immersed between Theresa's thighs.

Theresa arched and gave a long mewl of rapture when she felt a warm wet tongue run through her lips and then surge against her c.l.i.toris. Her chest arched up and her thighs quaked.

"So, here you are again," said Pelakh, and Theresa was overjoyed to feel lithe gloved hands stroking her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"All bound and devolved, corrupting grooms with your charms. Maybe I was too rash in getting rid of you," she purred.

Theresa whimpered as the girl took a nipple and squeezed it. She wanted so much to beg for a return to the house, to be Pelakh's servant again, but without her voice, all she could do was whinny.

"Look at these little toys. They suit you well. I wish I had done it myself, it would have been nice to see you cry," she commented and started to flick and turn Theresa's nipple rings.

"And you down there, until this pony comes, you don't dare stop," she commented, not breaking eye contact with the rapture filled Theresa.

Theresa started to fight against her pleasure, even as Pelakh's minor cruelty continued to fan it. A Dregakk was licking her c.l.i.t, and another was toying with her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, she wanted the moment to last and as long as she could hold off an o.r.g.a.s.m, Theresa could indeed indulge this unprecedented moment of happiness. However, Menchev was no novice at c.u.n.n.i.l.i.n.g.u.s and his oral dexterity was soon demanding that she climax.

Theresa's moans started to quicken and as they did so, Pelakh applied a pinch to each nipple that began to tighten with every increase in her sounds of delight. The feeling was pushed out and replaced with a deep keen throb that continued to grow. When climax struck, the girl released them and the teats erupted with new havoc. Feeling ran back in and smothered her o.r.g.a.s.m before elevating it to new and impossible heights. She drank deeply of all that the pair were giving her and almost swooned from the power of the exchange.

"That's enough, you can stop," she finally conceded and he instantly shuffled back.

After a pause to let him recover, she continued with his sentence, proving that this was by no means an end to her price. It seemed that the fee was to be paid in constant instalments.

"You will come to my room tomorrow night, and I will restrain you and whip you in private. You have transgressed against our moral codes, and for that, I will punish you myself. Now affix that filly and get out of my sight, you pestiferous slug."

Pelakh looked upon her fingers and made for the house to clean them, leaving the groom to take Theresa to the gig with sprinting haste where he fastened her within. His only means of revenge was to tighten the shackles and crotch band unbearably and make her wince at their ferocious bite. Theresa could see that Pelakh was acting unlawfully, but if Menchev exposed her extortion it would also lay him out for public scorn. No doubt such a horrendous possibility was too terrible to even entertain as a fleeting notion, and it would see him offering himself to Pelakh's s.a.d.i.s.tic urges.

The groom departed swiftly when Setchak arrived on the scene. After looking around for witnesses, he pinched her nipples and twisted, making her squeak as the cheated overlord warned her.

"Do not think for one moment that you have evaded me. I will have you condemned to the fields yet, and when I do, you can expect days of back breaking toil, and nights where dozens of your own kind will rape and torture you, and once they've drained you of your strength, you will be dispatched to the Temple, and at your final destination I shall take great pleasure in watching your soul burn under the attentions of the Holy Order."

After releasing her with a sudden pull, the incensed groom stomped moodily off to rejoin the others and expel his fury in the beating of slaves.

Theresa stood within the manacles of the gig - stunned, numbed, wracked with self-pity. In the cool barren wasteland of post-o.r.g.a.s.m, her mind was facing what she had done and thought. The strange spell that had overwhelmed her after the race was now broken. Without that eerie m.a.s.o.c.h.i.s.tic charm to control her, Theresa now became appalled at her behaviour. She could not believe the thoughts she had entertained about Setchak and Pelakh, the desire to be tormented by them again, the display she had made of herself over the fence and under his boot.

A few minutes pa.s.sed and Pelakh emerged. She slipped into the seat of the vehicle and brought Theresa to a trot with a few stinging strokes to her backside. The whip immediately cut through her self-loathing and allowed her submissive nature to rise from the welts and encompa.s.s her thoughts.

Heading out onto the open road, the weights once more began to spring with her steady pace, rocking the rods sheathed in her abdomen and soon bringing forth a hesitant pleasure that was sufficient to frustrate by offering a possible ascent to climax while not delivering. A vexing soreness added to the ordeal and further thwarted the opportunity to find relief. Previously all they had done was annoy, but her recent added step along the rode to conversion made her gratification of being driven more distinct. She felt wonderful, owned. Dregakk focused on her with regularity, as though there was something about her that caught some unknown part of their dreadful souls. Her high steps were now conducted with genuine pride; she revelled in the feel of her bouncing b.r.e.a.s.t.s, the sweat running down her body, the bit digging at the corners of her mouth, the clip-clop of her hooves, and the delicious sting of a crop into her rear. A gorgeous rubber-clad dominatrix was sitting behind her, controlling her, waiting to abuse her. The antic.i.p.ation caused Theresa to gallop with a speed she had never before been able to offer.

The sun sank amidst its usual splendid array of warm shades, and the stars began to focus into view upon the darkening vault above. Twin lights upon the cha.s.sis of the vehicle sparked into brilliant life, throwing cones of anaemic white light onto the road to permit both Theresa and her currish pa.s.senger a view other than inky blackness.

"I wonder if you can still understand me, slave?" asked Pelakh with a light laugh in her voice. It was a playful tone that Theresa had come to both dread and hanker for, because in such whimsical moods, anything became possible, be it a nightmare torture or a luscious kiss.

"Have they stripped you of your sentience, or do you still have a few shreds left? I have been considering bringing you back, to have you under my direct control once more, not as a maid, perhaps as a pet. Would you like that?"

Theresa ignored her, hoping to create the pretence that she was now a mere sh.e.l.l of her former self, one that could no longer truly think for itself. If she were utterly compliant, perhaps the fell youth would follow through with her promise. Theresa knew that Pelakh liked to taunt and deny, and she wanted to be her pet too badly to ruin the possibility. If she struggled and showed that she understood, the girl might believe her bluffing. Her reactions in the vehicle bay had to have exposed her new leanings, and to show Pelakh through faked resentment of being a pet that she actually wanted it was the surest way to destroy such a dream. Pelakh knew Theresa too well; she knew what genuine rebellion and resistance looked like, and what the feigned versions did too. Theresa was playing with fire here, and had to be careful.

"I think you would. Setchak must be awfully hard on you, especially considering that I arranged for two maids to converse while he was secretly in earshot, and as I instructed, they gossiped on how often you talked of him, and of all the carnal l.u.s.ts that were boiling in you, all focused on him," she said.

The words left Theresa fuming with volcanic hatred. That she had been manipulated thus! She had thought his ministrations and vengeance too savage for the mere glance she had cast him, and now she knew why he had granted such singular cruelty. After arranging for Setchak to be outraged by her fict.i.tious desire, Pelakh had deliberately dropped her into his lap. What had she done to merit such unwarranted harrowing from this girl? Her face relaxed from being screwed up with rancour and she grinned against her bit. She gave a small moan of rhapsody at the game being played between them. Pelakh wanted Theresa too much to desert her. She was toying with her, manipulating both her and others to craft her own enjoyment and amus.e.m.e.nt. The girl was crafty, deceitful, implacable, and the complexity of her plots would ensure that Theresa never find rest, or boredom, on the colony. There were so many castes, punishments, positions, and acts to experience, and Pelakh was sure to escort her through them all.

The myriad lights of the city could be spied in the distance as a condensed cloud of multi-hued stars upon midnight, sky-stabbing spikes. An involuntary shudder ran through her as she watched the brooding metropolis. All the hideous visions of what she had last seen there suddenly skipped gaily through her minds eye and made her glad and appreciative of the Thaine estate.

Closing relentlessly upon the stygian ma.s.s of towers and spires, a yank at her left reign and a whistling slash into her b.u.t.tocks turned her onto a side road. After only a few minutes, she was drawing the small vehicle over a low hillock, and as she hauled it up, with her leg muscles heating under the strain of fighting the gradient, she began to hear screams. It was not the sound of a few tortured slaves but the unified howls of hundreds of beings, their mult.i.tude of pitches and cries forming a single, esoteric tone. The awful sound grew louder with every step she took. It was a powerful orchestra trapped in a single note of excruciating symphony. It chilled her to just to hear it. The wash of the sound waves caused goose b.u.mps to rise across her flesh and her limbs to tremble as tears welled upon her eyes in sympathetic grief for the stricken.

Her eye level crept over the top of the mound with her ascent, and the halo of light beyond rose with it until she could see the source, though she desperately wanted to look away, to deny her mind the horror.

A vast botanical garden stretched its groomed area across a wide expanse. The edges were wreathed by a high fence of twisted jagged thorns in which were trapped numerous living forms. Smoking braziers were placed strategically throughout the interior and their glowing coals added an incarnadine shade to the amber candescence of their flicking flames. Smooth paths of obsidian wound around within the garden, flowing in sweeping arcs to carry their flow of visitors to all the sights, and these sights were operations of the darkest terror. Each small clearing was marked with a brazier so that no terrible detail could be missed, for each bore a louring engine of pain that was apparently automated to some degree to make its occupant contribute all the more heartily to the choir of howls.

Amidst this unholy grove of agony walked Dregakk with their slaves in tow. Their expressions were serene, as though they strolled within a quaint and pleasing park and the screams were a mere tranquil melody to their ears. The salaciously clad forms of the Holy Order's Amazon witches tended the condemned, ensuring continued survival with their devilish expertise in such matters, while others conducted the manufacture of fresh devices, their imaginations giving twisted birth to all manner of grotesque embodiments of their darkest desires. Did these nuns of butchery know no pleasure other than the rending of flesh and slashing of souls? How could such devotion to pain be indulged so brashly?

Only the biting tip of Pelakh's whip managed to kick Theresa from her aghast stupor, and with her stomach fluttering and senses reeling, she bore the girl down to the main gates. Never had she been more willing to embrace her life at the estate because what she endured there was but a page in the book of what this race were capable.

Attendant slaves swathed in hooked harnesses and pierced by horrible devices removed her from the gig at the girl's request. They took off her bridle and a cord was threaded through her nipple rings to create a frightening leash before her wrists were again sealed to her sides, preventing her from interfering with the lead. As the slaves readied her, she kept her gaze unfocused and turned down, unwilling to take in the sight of the mangled serviles waiting on her.

A soft tug scorched her b.r.e.a.s.t.s with a bite of distress and encouraged her to follow swiftly in the girl's wake, for to lag offered the possibility of the most atrocious mutilation. Theresa was almost thankful for the threat because she did not have the heart to follow otherwise.

The deafening sounds drowned out all normal noises, even of her own breath, her metal shod hooves, and the clack of the adolescent's heels. The lack of any differing noise made the place seem surreal, as though they were not really here and that they were incorporeal ghosts unable to affect the bleak twilight environment in which they moved.

Theresa wished she could block up her ears, or failing that, simply go deaf, because the wailing disturbed her more than she would have thought possible. She had seen grief beyond imagining, yet the scenes of pierced and contorted bodies, both human and alien, were without parallel. Some of them were being abused to such extreme degrees that it was hard to distinguish the species and s.e.xes from each other, and this barbarity was far worse than anything she had thus far observed Pelakh led the quailing slave to the furthest reaches of the ma.s.sive shrine, to a place where the meandering population diminished sharply and where she soon encountered a young Dregakk male whose countenance Theresa knew from the picture she had been shown and forced into selfabuse over.

Temgach approached and they embraced and kissed with all the pa.s.sion eager youth can kindle. They spoke, but their words could not reach Theresa, even though she was but a few metres away, such was the volume of the h.e.l.lish din.

With a pull to her tender nipples, they drew her into the greenery. They moved pa.s.sed the presented and occupied machine and entered the open s.p.a.ce of another. The contraption sat like some monstrous beast, a lethal chitin armoured predator apparently resting its many clawed arms before moving on in search of fresh prey.

One of the young aliens took an arm each and used the restrained handles to steer the struggling filly onto the presented slab of the creature's back. She wriggled and shrieked, but to the backdrop of genuine mortal calamity, her voice was as a drop in the ocean.

Her loins and arms were set free and her appendages drawn out into bulbous nodules. The black orbs sealed themselves over hands and half of her forearm by use of a welling internal bladder whose pressure established a potent clamping hold. Metal hoops flashed over her legs and when they re-entered the surface they withered and pulled her limbs firmly to the cool, slick surface. A larger hoop fell across her stomach, and a threeinch thick companion reached over and then dropped onto her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, crushing them to her chest. A metallic sheath, like a hood, whirred from up above her crown and lowered over her face. The insides bloated to press a rubbery film onto her entire head and then compress tightly, leaving her wheezing through a small tubular vent.

The machine released a series of dull throbbing knocks and an undulating purr as it readied to perform its singular ch.o.r.e. An osmotic syringe stung her, and she felt the frightening initial pangs that the pain-accentuating drug being brought into her. Fainting was now denied as a sanctuary, and even the slightest twinge of discomfort would be thrown up to the highest echelons of unspeakable woe.

A fat tube shot up and buried itself in her rear, the acutely flaring bulb further down the length being of such a width so as to stop up her orifice with its forceful airtight push against the opening.

A wash of caustic liquid flowed forth in a ceaseless tide. The fluid burned her insides and made her shriek in agony as it filled her with its acidic bulk. The amount introduced was soon pushing against her tracts. Unable to find escape it had no choice but to stretch and engorge her helpless stomach that in turn added immensely to the ordeal.

White-hot javelins of fire grabbed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. The stout hoop had snagged dozens of pinches and the barrages of tiny clamps had barbed fangs that rotated, shook, and pulled the delicate flesh in appalling ways.

The hood stepped up its hold in vast bounding leaps, crushing her skull until she thought it might stave in. Her breath continued to escape through a small vent that was more present to allow her screams a route out rather than for any concession to keep her alive.

The devices upon her hands began to turn. They rotated her arms and made her shoulders and joints explode with refulgent tearing heat. Her fingers were treated in a similar and individual fashion, each digit being swivelled and crushed until they felt like they had reached the very point of breakage, whereupon they let go and initiated the whole obscene process again in a different direction. Of course, they could merely be bending them a little, but because of the accursed drug the manipulation felt far more acute.

A collection of clamps lifted from the slab and began to s.n.a.t.c.h her armpits and inner thighs. They grabbed mercilessly in the manner to which her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were being fully enlightened and the grinding h.e.l.l of them as they cavorted on the skin of her frame made her believe that the tiny pins in their mouths were in truth swords, for no mere tiny spine could be responsible for such pains.

The final chapter in this abominable trial was the activation of her implant. The internal bane filled her entire body with agony and accentuated the pain of every area already being attended.

Her utter misery was an intense arousal to the couple responsible for her plight, and amidst kisses and caresses, they lowered onto her imprisoned body.

Theresa could feel them making love across her. The jerks and twitches of her pain only added to their pleasure as Pelakh's dress squeaked against her quivering abdomen. The latex continued to cling until her tortured sweat provided lubrication enough to silence the creaks. She could not think on her hate for them, for her mind was reeling under the tornado of agony every super sensitised nerve in her being was unleashing directly through her mind.

There was no means to know how long she lay upon the infernal contrivance, but it was an infinity beyond measure or endurance when the pain had finished drawing out every nanosecond into a purgatory of unequalled spite.

The lovers left her and the implant fell quiet. The sudden plummet from those arch heights of woe was so drastic that she squealed even louder out of relief. Now that the implant had gone, her body was surging with new sensation. Her mind curdled from diabolic joy as she was tormented. Every twist, every pinch, every haul was as potent as a lap of her c.l.i.toris and she shrieked in unholy bliss with every particle of breath she could muster.

The reservoir within was drained and the machines released their chosen locale before the soothing rays of a tissue regenerator erased the most atrocious of her bruises and welts. The incorporation of such a life-preserving trinket in the engines was no doubt what kept the other condemned in their perpetual agony. With such a revelation, Theresa began to fear being sent to the Temple all the more because of this prospect of life upon a grisly tool such as the one she had just briefly visited, and her machine was a paltry compet.i.tor to the more grievous versions she had seen. A life on the more horrific machines could not be curtailed by the abuses and could run freely into old age for however long the Dregakk technology could sustain it.

Once the restraints retreated back into the midnight sh.e.l.l, Theresa languished helplessly. Her body was in a state of the most stupendous shock, her senses and system scrambled almost to the point of total failure. Never had she endured such pain, and this pushing beyond her limits now seemed to be some sort of accomplishment. She had gone further than ever before and felt changed inside. The incredible sensations of ultimate pain and then stupendous debauched pleasure scarcely seemed possible for a human being to channel and survive. She almost craved a return almost as much as she feared one.

Wheezing for breath in long, drawn out gasps, she filled her lungs with life. Her heart was pounding in her chest from the exertion of the event. She leant over and retched, waves of nausea cascading through her body because it had endured levels it should not have had to, for without the safety valve of black out, she had been made to go further than ever, and her body was replying in the only manner it had left.

From her crooked pose, she watched the lovers talk to one side. They were distracted from their giddy subject by the intimacy they had wrought upon her.

Straining, her stomach sought to expel anything it had, but no spare food ever pa.s.sed her lips and thus her sickness pa.s.sed without physical trace. She slipped back and let the dizziness that made the sky sway and the slab tilt and shift as though bobbing on storm lashed seas ebb a little. With a strain, she managed to move some of her sore limbs. The appendages were slow to respond to her commands but her need to get off the device was far too important to accept their failure.

Theresa dropped from the lip and landed flat on her side, driving the wind from her lungs and making her yell because the bruises were magnified by the prevalent drug in her system to a gargantuan supernova down her flank. Spots flashed across her gaze as she weathered the tempest of pain, and as she started to climb free of the debilitating effects of her tiny fall, she felt the leash being threaded through her nipple rings. The b.r.e.a.s.t.s beneath them were now flecked with a dense pattern of almost invisible red spots from the scratch of barbaric spines inside the clamps.

Pelakh wound the slack about her palm so that the merciless tow brought Theresa upright.

The couple embraced and bade farewell to each other with a long kiss. With their clandestine activities completed, they departed. Temgach immediately moved off in a separate direction lest they be spotted together and as soon as he was gone, Pelakh turned to Theresa and snarled. With a lightning slash, she grabbed a nipple, turned the teat in her grasp, and made her shriek before roaring directly into her ear to ensure her words were known over the sounds of ma.s.s suffering.

"You will reveal this to no one."

Theresa nodded wildly while dancing on the tips of her hooves as the girl kept her hold secure.