Theresa's Punishment Part 7

Without delicacy, they used their retractable blades to remove her bonds. The process terrified her as the fearsome knives swept along her b.r.e.a.s.t.s to shear the lengths, and despite the speed with which they worked, she never sustained more than a light graze.

Freed of the restraints, the group marched her to the vehicle. The Hunters boarded and she was taken to the rear, where a winch held many rolls of chain and a length of slack that extended to a set of manacles. The heavy shackles were snapped onto her wrists and the Hunter joined his fellows with a chuckle.

The craft whirred and Theresa screwed her eyes shut as the storm of particles lifted by the winds battered her frame. The smarting gusts stung her already severely punished body and whipped her hair about as frenzied tentacles.

The craft arose steadily and dragged up her arms before lifting her from her feet. She watched as the ground dropped away and her body dangled precariously by her arms. Theresa was carried high into the sky and then the craft took off at a casual accelerating pace that slapped the towed cargo with vicious winds. The land streaked past as a blur and she rolled and tumbled, bouncing upon the eddies and vertices that were left in the wake of the speeding vessel. The punch of the air caused her to grab the chain and try to alleviate the drag, but it did little to help because her muscles were unable to even rival the demands of the task.

The craft circled the estate four times, no doubt displaying her fully to the slaves and ensuring that all knew that she had been recaptured. Those who missed the sight of her - screaming through the air, battered and bruised, condemned to the Temple - would be informed soon enough by the rumour mill of the estate.

The city once more loomed before her and Theresa knew that she would never leave it alive. The affliction that was her life was soon to draw to an end; the Temple would torture her to death before the eager eyes of the a.s.sembled Dregakk congregation. She had seen them do it, and knew the pains would be beyond anything she had even come close to experiencing. However, it was somehow gratifying to know that it was a definite end and that for the first time her path was clear. She would find peace after this one last trial, and would escape both her seduction into depravity, and the misery of her lot.

Theresa gave no thought to what lay beyond, her only wish was an end to the agony of being, and this was the only option her callous rulers had left her.

The grim fortress spires of the bastion city closed around her like monolithic claws of congealed shadow. Their lengths dangled the condemned and the fluttering symbols of allegiance - the two things that seemed to guide every action of this race.

Once more, the immense structure of the Temple filled her vision, eclipsing the sun with its absurd and impossible dimensions.

The craft lowered a distance away and wound down through the sky roads and lofty pathways and conduits until it settled a few feet over the true ground. Theresa touched the cold stone of the wide road. Even the air was chill because the sun was rarely able to fondle these foreboding depths except through bouncing down as refraction's from the gleaming spires above.

The street was choked with denizens - the Phed Dregakk and their wretched slaves all conducting the daily routine. Almost instantly she drew an unprecedented amount of attention and to her fright the crowds began to gather as she was towed behind the dilatory craft.

As though the thought had been locked away and only just released, she recalled that escaped slaves were whipped through the streets to the Temple, and suddenly she knew then what was in store and the reason behind the mustering gauntlet.

Theresa snapped up her gaze and was dismayed to see just how distant the church was. The sight was abruptly cut off as a lash across her rear made her grimace and throw out a shout of pain. Others joined in the a.s.sault and employed a veritable a.r.s.enal of a.s.sorted weapons - crops, cats, bullwhips, canes, straps, paddles, shock prods, and many unfamiliar devices that had been born from this cultures creed of pain or discovered in use upon the many worlds they had conquered. Theresa cried out and tried to evade them, but the chain that bound her gave her no access to any sort of refuge.

The tools of flagellation were only the beginning, because d.i.l.d.os and other vindictive toys were shoved into a presented slot, twisted and pulled until she could slip free or they were painfully wrenched out. Clamps were snapped to her skin; her nipples, b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and s.e.x, the implements proving to be a disposable weapon that she had to spend long moments trying to get off. Some of them unleashed bright electric shocks or a steady heat or cold generated from within to further afflict their captive fleshy morsel. Some had slim lengths of chain that held a weight. When they were latched onto a pinch of flesh, the drag made the process of removing them far more stringent, especially when they were of the variety that would shock her fingertips when she touched them. It was almost easier to simply leave them in place and bear the tug and drag of the weight. The frustration at being helpless to expel the many agonising clamps drove her into a despairing frenzy.

Stumbling under the storm of pinches, violations, and whippings, Theresa sank to her knees or belly on several occasions to be dragged along the rough ground until she could regain her stance under the deluge of a.s.sorted attacks.

At a nightmarishly sluggish pace, they closed upon the Temple. Theresa's body was covered in flushed lines from savage strokes. The trauma was more than she could withstand, and finally, in a near comatose daze, she reached the base of the steps.

The manacles sprang open of their own accord and the main doors opened in invitation. The lack of awaiting abusers indicated that this was her only haven from the crowd. It was a terrible choice. She either had to enter the place of her a.s.sured and slow death, or to stay and endure the attentions of the mob. The throng were most eager for her to remain, and thus increased their offensive to try to stop her from reaching safety.

Crawling forward as the wild revelry about her continued to rage and the infliction of physical duress ran onward with extra gusto, she began to ascend the flight, fighting against unconsciousness and exhaustion to make her ailing form reach the doors. Whips ate into her hide, clamps snagged her, and many tools found her exposed openings or chose to tickle her weals.

Dragging a selection of weighted chains from her clamps, she arched as a monstrous phallus thundered into both her p.u.s.s.y and rear. The two p.r.o.ngs emerged from a single base that released chain and a selection of small weights with bells in them. The soft chimes were lost amongst the cheers and Theresa moaned as clamps were used to grab the flesh of her v.u.l.v.a to ensure the d.i.l.d.os remained within her. The devices started to offer brief shocks that made her p.u.s.s.y and rear clench painfully to the tools and when her hand reached back to touch them, the fingers received an even more grievous shock. With a howl of despair, she deserted the attempt to expel the toys that were stretching her tracts abominably and making her squeeze forcefully to them with shocks. Instead, Theresa committed to the climb and it was the hardest thing she had ever done, and as she undertook the gruelling feat of clearing each step, she eventually crossed the threshold and dragged her feet within.

Theresa looked up and saw the stern but radiant countenance of the High Theocrat. Her height was magnified by Theresa's grovelling position and the world's religious leader brooded over her like some manifestation of pure evil. Her beauty was captivating, and the aura of malevolence about her was infinitely more humbling because of her proximity. It was a dominating charisma that almost prompted Theresa into abasing herself in terror just from the mere stare of her piercing eyes.

The woman was presented in the attire Theresa had already witnessed, testifying that it was some manner of ceremonial vestment. The jewelled spider of a headdress drew away her braided hair with its hooked legs. The thorned collar that encircled her slender neck opened down onto a gap of flesh between its rigid edges and the basque of sculpted black that hugged her torso and cupped her furtively exposed b.r.e.a.s.t.s together. The two straps that departed her hips joined and snaked between her legs and they had been adorned with studs since last she had seen this female. Stiletto thigh boots gripped her elegant legs and she wore gloves of the same polished leather. The spiked vambrace and greave that encompa.s.sed shin and forearm also remained unchanged.

The females of the infamous Holy Order stood beside her, each with a wild mane of white hair and clad in only the most meagre clothing. The lingerie was dotted with dissuading spines, and their rigorous stares were affixed upon the helpless slave before them.

The High Theocrat panned her gaze slowly along Theresa's body. She scrutinised from feet to eyes, perhaps evaluating the torments that could be inflicted, what vile positions she might be twisted into.

Theresa's thoughts froze with petrified fear when the black painted lips of this vaulted empress of sadism opened into a wicked grin of expectation and approval.

With a deep funereal tone, the doors shut. The reverberating note sentenced her to the zealous care of this diabolic faith.

Chapter Nine.

Eldral leapt out from behind the felled stanchion and his armoured forearm swung in a swift arc that connected with the throat of an advancing alien. A brittle crunch echoed over the sounds of heated combat and the lithe figure was cast back through the air. It sprawled inertly onto the deck plates as another shudder ran through the superstructure. The explosions were issuing from the suicidal self-destructs of his crew. They were detonating the power cells of their cybernetic armour rather than risk capture.

Three other inhuman forms presented their bodies to his synthetic gaze. The warped forms had been grown from the bodies of Phed Dregakk and his visor instantly offered surface scans and tactical detail on them. It was little more than a catalogue of unknowns and vague projections and guesses.

The captured had been altered in the bio hives of the enemy and given sanguinary purpose against their besieged comrades. All previous trace of their ident.i.ty had been erased or suppressed to prevent them from denying the wishes of their creators.

The bodyguards were grim parodies of their former selves. Hunched and twisted, their skin was now an array of dense th.o.r.n.y plates. Their fingers were hooked claws, their heads were filled with fangs and p.r.o.nounced mandibles that were designed specifically to rend and destroy.

Dropping his a.s.sault cannon into the grasp of his other arm, the Warmaster cradled the long weapon and opened fire. The cl.u.s.ter of barrels spun into a snarling whirr of motion. The smudge of movement lit up at the end with incredibly rapid strobe pulses of flickering blue. The stream of fire spattered a creature's chest with bright splashes of sparks. The bolts etched rough dents while they pounded the beast and sought vulnerable spots.

The monster stomped forward with a speed that seemed impossible for its bulk. With a broad slash, its claws swept out, caught the weapon, and split open the casing. The ragged tears filled with arcs of loosed energy and the firearm fell silent as it was damaged beyond repair.

Eldral dropped the gun, whirled out of his attacker's reach, and threw up his arm. His cloak billowed behind him and the braids of silver and bone that decorated his armour danced in the ailing light of the corridor. The creature lunged at him and the other two moved forward in its wake.

Eldral ducked and felt the claws skip across the top of his helm. He threw up his arm and took point blank aim up at the creature's neck.

The blaster that was mounted along his forearm chattered rapidly with sapphire pulses. The searing coughs of energy bored into the dark skinned monster and gouged open the flesh. The beast stumbled and tripped over Eldral's crouching body. The creature smashed to the floor behind him and began pawing at the torn wound as it gurgled and struggled to rise.

From his squatting pose, Eldral drew swift aim and opened fire on the other two monstrosities. Their claws were diving down at him but a volley of blue bolts accurately smashed the natural armour at their throats and ripped open the soft flesh. They span aside, clutching the ragged craters that had been drilled into them.

The beasts struck the walls with such impetus that they dented the steel before they dropped in rapid succession. Dark blood seeped from the mortal trauma and they writhed weakly upon the ground, their talons gouging thin trenches in the floor during their prolonged death throes.

The Warmaster of Earth waved to his fellow Phed Dregakk warriors and marched down the corridor. Proud and defiant of his enemy's might, he stubbornly pledged not to wilt before them. Eldral was determined to show the aggressors that the Dregakk Theocracy was a force that they could not trifle with and live to boast about it.

Having been granted command of his old fleet, Eldral had left the colony and his family to meet the invaders who had been steadily gnawing into their borders for numerous solar days. The foe used adaptive organic technology, modifying raw biological material and forging it into the configurations to suit their purposes. Since the first skirmishes, they had been plundering entire worlds, stripping them of every living cell to create war machines and lethal organic engines to carry on the fight. They relentlessly upgraded their designs with each battle, improving and adapting so swiftly that the Dregakk were finding it increasingly difficult to even slow their advance.

A section of overhead ducts suddenly burst outward. The torn flaps unfurled to allow exit for a flaccid-skinned octopod. The numerous tentacles flailed wildly as the beast landed on the warrior directly behind Eldral. The tendrils ensnared him and held firm while the soldier roared and tried to throw the creature off. A cruel stinger curled up and flashed down, piercing the armour with a metallic tone to inject a weighty load of digestive enzymes.

The creatures were grotesque parts of any first attack wave before they a.s.sumed the role of skirmishers. The octopi paralysed their prey and then slowly broke down the harvested raw materials, storing them in gluttonous sacs for later collection by their creators.

Eldral opened fire without hesitation. He whirled and shot into the bulbous bag that was the body of the beast and resolutely ignored the lost and ghastly outlines of a slender face that was still prevalent on the side. The countenance was no doubt deliberately left behind to distract the less stalwart Dregakk with this reminder of what it had once been, but he would not be fazed by it.

The swollen orb erupted with blossoming caverns that opened the creature and splashed a viscous sludge across the wall. The dissolved essence of his former crew dribbled out of the breached storage sacs and the beast went slack. The warrior that held it collapsed, lifeless and inert, already as good as dead from the poison in his veins.

Another trooper s.n.a.t.c.hed the raw cadaver and hauled it off before casting the invertebrate aside. Launching a trio of cyan blasts into it, the veteran soldier gouged it open and scattered scorched morsels in all directions, venting his rage while ensuring that it was truly dead.

They proceeded deeper and started to find the ensnared coc.o.o.ns of more Dregakk and human slaves. Their bodies were locked within translucent skin-tight sh.e.l.ls. The smothering cells kept them in a comatose state while awaiting collection and reprocessing. The Dregakk instantly flicked up the wicked combat blades incorporated into their vambraces and began to cut open the film about their fellows. They unfailingly deserted the slaves in favour of tending their own casualties, giving them the valuable first aid that would start the long process of recovering from the embrace of the supple membrane.

Continuing with speed, another four of the converted monsters stomped into view through a haze of soot-filled smog. Their claws were outstretched upon a sprinting advance that kept heads low to protect their vulnerable throats.

"Fire at will and go for the necks! For the G.o.ddess!" roared Eldral.

His authoritative command crushed all thought of flight and caused an immediate clatter of frenzied movement from his squad.

The Dregakk fell into ordered rows with weapons raised and they fired swiftly into the beasts. The bolts sparked in a futile manner upon their bodies and denied streaks of pernicious blue ricocheted aside into the walls of the corridor where they punched holes and sliced molten wounds. Desperation started to automatically rise while the creatures relentlessly closed in, hissing softly and untroubled by the multiple impacts.

Those energy blasts that were placed into the weak spot at their throats succeeded in splitting the harsh sh.e.l.l, but the damage was far too inconsequential to halt them. The Dregakk fired with increasing haste and they became frantic because the monsters were almost on top of them.

Only the last point blank shots in moments of insane tension opened the weak spot and felled the aberrations. The bodies collapsed mere feet from the distraught ranks with a slamming impact that made the deck quiver.

The rows of warriors immediately continued discharging vengeful streams into the downed monsters, finishing them while the creatures wriggled and squeaked, holding to their lives with an engineered tenacity.

Eldral jumped across the slain and ran forth. His blood l.u.s.t was burning like the heart of a star.

The location of the breach where the insurgents were coming from was located nearby and it was a promising site for the first possible capture of an alien vessel.

Leaping into a corridor, Eldral ducked a clawed swipe. The hand ripped open a section of wall to expose raw circuits and sever a power conduit. The arcs of jagged lightning that licked out from the gash played harmlessly at the monster's sharp fingertips.

Eldral launched his own blade for use. The knife snapped into place and vibrated into a blur of frenetic motion. With a jab, he plunged the oscillating serrated weapon into exposed throat and the quivering tip bored through with amazing ease.

Rising from his crouch to turn the blade and gouge the flesh, he jerked his other arm to the second beast. It was already in the motions of casting a claw back to deliver a lethal hack.

The balled fist of his black armour pressed to its collarbones and a flash of sapphire light lit up the bleak hide. The soft meat caved in and the scent of burned tissues washed outward to slip through Eldral's respirator and tickle his nostrils.

The beast jerked twice in shock and toppled, striking the deck with a resonant clang. Eldral wrenched his blade free, retracted the augmented armament, and checked the view.

The point of ingress was immediately apparent. The grown biological pathway contrasted ma.s.sively to the stark metal of Dregakk craftsmanship. The ribbed tube had punched through the hull and thrown out long tendrils and cilia that had fixed to the walls to hold the alien craft to his war cruiser.

The main alien forces were in the process of conducting their well-versed tactic and currently spearheading a drive towards the command decks. Rather than try to thwart their advance, Eldral had taken his elite veterans of the Earth campaign and used service tunnels to slip by the main areas of fighting. His intent was to lead a sneak a.s.sault upon the hopefully undefended alien ship.

Checking the connecting pa.s.sageways and seeing no further sign of the foe, it seemed as though his gamble had worked. If they could enter the craft, the marauding trespa.s.sers would have to retreat to recover their base of operations. This might allow the Dregakk to smash them as they retreated. At the same moment, his own forces would run out to catch them in a lethal crossfire. If they managed to take this ship, it would be the first step in a.n.a.lysing the minutiae of their more advanced enemy and finding a weakness the Theocracy might exploit.

The octopod creatures were slithering from the intruding corridor and squirming into the ventilation system, the maintenance pa.s.sages, and all the covert nooks and crannies where they might loose themselves. The hidden mazes would permit them the opportunity to attack without warning.

The sight of them made his blood burn and the thought of losing to this sc.u.m fired his rancour. The Dregakk would not fall. The Theocracy would survive, and prosper. He would not let his people perish, not while breath lingered in his body and strength dwelt in his limbs.

"No prisoners! No relent! No mercy!" he howled.

Eldral took off his helmet, cast it aside, threw back his hair, and jumped into a sprint. His features were contorted with fury and he lifted his arm against the intruders.

Without breaking his advance, Eldral ran on, firing into them, blasting the creatures as he bellowed in rage. Lost in a red haze of berserker fury his reflexes were honed and ready and his aim was deadly.

In reply, the beasts exploded from the walls and ceiling with their tentacles outstretched in expectation. The burning stab of caustic power cleaved through their soft bodies and wrenched them back, denying the tentacles access to him. Where they were agile enough to evade his bolts, the eager shivering blade slit them open so he might crush them under his feet amidst spat insults.

He jumped into the alien tube and bounded down the slick pa.s.sage. The ground was moist underfoot, the walls laden with veins and throbbing capillaries. The structure presented the same image as being inside a huge living ent.i.ty.

A guardian creature emerged from a side pa.s.sage. It stepped out and then twirled aside with the volley of lethal bolts Eldral poured into its throat before deploying his knife to finish it. The hatred upon his coup de grace swing almost decapitated the creature.

One of the alien architects of the vessel fired a paralysing beam. The bolt sailed through empty air when Eldral nimbly sidestepped and threw up his forearm.

"You only get one chance, freak!" he sneered.

A single bolt was placed directly between the large almond-shaped eyes of the startled alien. The black ovals betrayed no hint of emotion when a plume of gore erupted from the back of its skull and drenched the ground behind it.

Eldral loathed their visage for many reasons, and one of the most primary was because of its lack of feeling. He liked to see the fear, the terror of a.s.sured death at his hands, but from these skeletal automatons there was nothing, just vacant indifference. They were lifeless, empty husks.

Moving ever deeper, the sound of his comrades trying to keep up reached his ears as they entered the alien craft. After following his reckless a.s.sault they were now inspired to commit havoc by his example.

A tall chamber offered some hope of a command centre, but instead he found walls of strange hives, wherein lay captured Dregakk and humans with strange intruding stilettos piercing their bodies. The devices were siphoning away their tissue, reprocessing them as though they were any other raw material to be used to feed the ship and its masters.

Two of the aliens were tending the imprisoned, looking in and ensuring that all was functioning as intended. The soft muted cries of fresh additions seeped through the sealed sphincters that were the doors to the many tiny sarcophagi.

The beings turned and levelled arcane fashioned weapons. Eldral dove aside and into a roll that avoided the rapid stream of fire. The pulses of soft light splashed against the meat of the ship, leaving it completely unaffected.

Eldral's response was less tender and a spitting arc of energy blasts tore clumps of jagged flesh from the wall in a steady line before crossing the bodies of the aliens. The impacts split open their grey-skinned chests and punched them from their feet before sending them awkwardly to the ground.

Walking through the room, Eldral spied a familiar shape and stopped to peer in. His first mate lay bound with his eyes were rolled back in hollow sockets. His flesh was visibly shrivelling onto his bones with the theft of his vitality and the cruel pipes continued to gulp down his insides.

Eldral put his hand to the muscular wall and let it wither into a fist as shock turned to renewed loathing. Urekk and he had been comrades for many years. Urekk had kept an ambition free eye on Eldral's back through the tricky road to command. They had butchered worlds together, and now he lay broken and pillaged. It was no way for a fellow warrior Dregakk to die.

"My revenge will earn you a place with the G.o.ddess, Urekk," he swore and without compunction, he gave his battle brother a swift death through a cascade of sapphire bolts.

Taking the only route out, he stepped onto a slender corridor. A ribcage of bone strengthened the structure as it led to a larger chamber beyond. The humid air was suddenly alive with fulgent beams when the poised squad at the end defended a place of obvious strategic importance.

With a spasm of effort, Eldral threw himself aside and narrowly evaded the crippling shots. He landed heavily on his side and slid to the wall across the slick surface of the ground. Dragging himself upright, Eldral smiled with vicious intent and unclipped a pair of grenades from his belt.

After pulling off the caps from twin cylinders, he took a breath and jerked out. He threw them with all his strength at the far end of the pa.s.sage before dancing back into cover and out of the renewed and dense volley of stark beams.

"A gift from Urekk, abominations!" he yelled.

He smiled, tapped the detonator b.u.t.ton on both caps, and grabbed the wall for support. The reverberating explosion sent a wall of sound and a virulent shockwave through the entire vessel. A piercing tone of an incredibly high pitch filled the air, as though the ship itself was screaming in pain, then a wall of hot air thundered from the pa.s.sage, washing over his armoured frame and buffeting him with chaotic eddies and harsh turbulence.

Eldral hurled himself onto the path and ran through the smoke to work by sound and vague shape in the moments of his enemy's dazed recovery. Vaulting through the portal and over the raw pits of tissue in the floor that bled a thick viscous gel of glowing blue, he fired on the maimed survivors. Executing them with accurately placed blasts, he swiftly neutralised the remaining bridge crew.

He stepped into the centre of the circular hall and looked across the strange organic controls and view ports. The screens showed depictions of his craft and the surrounding area, and even views through the eyes of the genetically altered creations they were using against his crew. The sights of his fellow Dregakk fighting and dying under heavy claws fed his rage, and bestowed a sense of impotence because he could do nothing to aid them from here. The language and script flowing around and across the screens was unknown to him.

Collections of lung-like cl.u.s.ters on the ceiling were dragging away the smoke and the wounds on the ship were swiftly congealing to remove the trauma he had inflicted.

Turning from the room with a sense of victorious triumph, he activated his communication link and told his trailing troops to fan out into the ship, kill all resistance, and hold their positions. Already the enemy were detecting the loss of the vessel and were heading back. The sudden turn in the tide of their a.s.sault caused the Dregakk to renew the fight with vigour. The scent of victory inspired them to sanguinary acts as they cut down the fleeing forces. They had taken the ship, it was theirs, and the fate of the Theocracy depended on the secrets they could glean from it.

The slender beauties of the Holy Order dragged Theresa from under the High Theocrat's gaze and into the winding labyrinthine corridors of the church. The echoes of her own screams of torment were still heavy within her ears, and successfully drowned out the collective signal wafting down the gloomy pa.s.sages. It was the sound of hundreds, perhaps thousands of miserable howls and murmurs, the despairing slaves and captives announcing themselves to uncaring owners, uniting in an orchestra to sing their own melancholy lament. Only once she started to become aware of it did the effects weigh truly in her mind. The saturated grief and pain made her shiver in dread, and the prospect of being reduced to such a state that she might join them was one that chilled her very soul.

A door closed and m.u.f.fled the droning background symphony, and she faintly detected a room about her before hands were upon her. They kept her pinioned, while also exploiting the chance to play at the implements that were still attached to her and the trophies of the mob she had been exposed to for her attempted and futile escape were numerous. The restoration of all the old ferocity swept back into the wounds as the clamps responded sourly to any attempt at movement. The implements of torture had grown comfortable on their fleshy nuggets and were reluctant to part with them.

Shrieking, she tried to fight the removal, but she was being held down too effectively, and her long march through the city streets, and the violations and atrocities perpetrated on her helpless frame had stolen her energy, leaving her an enfeebled husk, one that could only holler as the tools were drawn off.

Churning spots of fire rolled upon her hide as the methodical process of extraction drove her into wild convulsions. The shock of jaws leaving long compressed and welt covered skin was a sensation of the darkest and most stringent kind.

The final marks of harsh affection were lost and when the d.i.l.d.os were hauled out, Theresa fell into a deep coma, her body losing an already tenuous grip on consciousness. The styptic aura of a tissue regenerator brushed her bruises even as darkness began to envelop her thoughts.