06-03-2015, 08:42 PM
“I suppose torture would be a pretty bad way to live,” Violet surmised.
Irma didn’t reply, just picked up the sponge and dipped it into the dark liquid. It splashed on the ground at her feet, leaving thick drops of inky fluid trailing towards her. She caught a whiff of it before it touched her stomach, a strong, coppery scent. Irma brought the sponge to Violet’s naked torso and swept it across her skin. The sensation chilled her as it slid across her flesh, fading into an acidic burn as it dried. Wincing, Violet tried to endure, not wanting to give this creature the satisfaction of hearing her suffer.
Fuck did it burn! The scent wafted to her nostrils, reminding her of freshly spilled blood. Cringing, Vi shoved the thought from her mind. There was no way they…could they?
“Is that blood?”
“It is,” Irma replied. “It has been blessed by our Lord, himself.”
She tried not to gag as the other woman gingerly soaked her limbs in the vile froth. The sponge drifted over the tops of her buttocks, the liquid channeling between them and sliding downward, diverging at her thighs to trail down her legs, and ultimately, back to the floor. It reviled her, but she was helpless to do anything about it. It cooled on her skin, forming a thick, sticky film of crimson.
Once the blood was applied, she reached for the black grease. The substance was fingered onto her body in curving lines and designs; no part of her body was left untouched. Irma seemed to concentrate more on her face, smearing the stuff around her eyes, and smudging her lips and chin. It stank like death.
Irma stepped back to admire her work, smiling as those pale eyes roamed over her work. “Master will be very pleased,” she titillated.
“Wouldn’t the clothes mess it up?”
“Silly girl,” Irma laughed. “You’re the lowest of the low among the slaves. You do not get clothing.”
“What?!” Vi exclaimed. “Horseshit! Let me down from here!” The chains rattled noisily as she struggled.
A strong fist broadsided her face, and Violet paused, pain shooting throughout her skull. She tasted blood. “You stop that right now,” Irma hissed.
Violet’s eyes narrowed. Hatred welled deep within her chest, and spat the blood directly into Irma’s wretched face. Vi watched in satisfaction as the red liquid dribbled down the other woman’s cheek and plopped in thick drops onto her chest.
“You’re going to pay for that,” the silver-eyed woman seethed. Angrily, she grabbed the bucket and grease and left without further comment, the door latching behind her.
Violet let the anger seep through her veins, her skin glowing beneath the thick coating of blood and grease. Shadows danced on the walls from the intensity, and for a moment, it was a terrible beauty to admire.
Flashes of memories flipped through her mind, and she had a thought. Why not just try to burn through the chains? Biting her lip, Violet concentrated that energy into her arms, pushing it down, down towards her wrists. The metal began to heat up and glow, singeing her flesh. She cried out softly as the metal began burning her skin, and she was almost sure it would blister. The energy itself, while contained within her would never hurt her, but for objects that were being pumped full of it, it was the same as sticking it in a furnace and applying it directly to her skin. A burn was a burn regardless of how it was made.
The shackles were turning orange with the intensity of the energy being shoved into it, with the very edges of white forming in spots closer to her skin. The pain was almost unbearable now, but still she tried to break free. Something cracked and began to slacken, and the point where the chains secured to the shackles snapped. Her body sagged as one hand worked itself free, but the other was still trapped. Taking no time to assess the damage of her wrist, she pushed even more energy into that wrist, her fingertips disappearing under the intense light of her ki.
“Come on, baby, just a little more…” she pleaded, tears of both pain and hope rimming her eyes. Freedom was so close, she could taste it…if she just –
The door crashed open, and two figures walked in. They were covered in a black hooded outfit that completely obscured their faces. The glow at her wrist intensified, and so did the pain; she had to get free or die trying!
The cloaked pair didn’t give her a choice in the matter. While one came around to her back to restrain her, jerking her free arm behind her and holding it immobile, the other unclasped the unbroken shackle, setting her arm free. The metal of the shackle still glowed orange hot, but if he felt anything from it, it didn’t show. Not even a whimper betrayed his steely demeanor.
From somewhere underneath the robe, he produced a pair of leather cuffs. She tried to jerk away, but the other figure held her completely in thrall. That wasn’t going to work, so she threw her body forward, her skull clashing against his chest in an attempt to keep him at bay as he tried to affix the straps around her wrist. He grunted, but continued his ministrations, clasping the buckle, and pulling it back behind her to join the other wrist.
“Stop this!” she cried out.
Her plea was ignored as the other wrist was also strapped and affixed behind her. They gave her a shove towards the door, and she had no choice but to move towards it. Her eyes narrowed furiously at the doorway as the cloaks flanked her, a hand clasped around each of her forearms to lead her onward.
Not knowing where she was going, or what they were going to do, Violet could feel the fear swirling furiously around in the pit of her stomach. Her body began to glow again, a soft reddish light pulsing just beneath the skin as anger pushed back the fear, burning throughout her body. Fire singed along her skin, very faint, but died away quickly.
“I am going to enjoy ripping both of your skulls from your necks, you know that, right?” Violet seethed at the two men. They ignored her, as she expected. “Do you really think these weak ass straps are going to hold me?”
They tightened their grips on their respective arm. She flexed, bulging against their grasps. There was very little slack, but it was just enough. She let the anger fill her until her skin flushed away any remnant of her original tone. The power surged through her, the force throwing the figures back. Leather ripped, and her wrists were free. Reaching down, she grasped the shackles that bound her ankles and tore them away, throwing them to the side with a loud clang!. She was free!
Her legs, weakened from being shackled for so long, struggled as she took off down the hallway, not knowing where she was heading, but knowing she had to get away. She ran hard, bare feet slapping loudly against the stone.
She lurched forward, and there was no saving herself from the fall. Her face slammed against the stone, pain surging through her skull. Sliding several yards, she finally came to a stop against a wall of black fabric. What was under the fabric was hard as rock.
Moaning, her body throbbing in pain, she rolled over onto her back and looked up. “Impossible,” she breathed, her eyes locking onto the black clad creature’s face. His hood was gone, and what stared back was something she’d only seen in nightmares.
Irma didn’t reply, just picked up the sponge and dipped it into the dark liquid. It splashed on the ground at her feet, leaving thick drops of inky fluid trailing towards her. She caught a whiff of it before it touched her stomach, a strong, coppery scent. Irma brought the sponge to Violet’s naked torso and swept it across her skin. The sensation chilled her as it slid across her flesh, fading into an acidic burn as it dried. Wincing, Violet tried to endure, not wanting to give this creature the satisfaction of hearing her suffer.
Fuck did it burn! The scent wafted to her nostrils, reminding her of freshly spilled blood. Cringing, Vi shoved the thought from her mind. There was no way they…could they?
“Is that blood?”
“It is,” Irma replied. “It has been blessed by our Lord, himself.”
She tried not to gag as the other woman gingerly soaked her limbs in the vile froth. The sponge drifted over the tops of her buttocks, the liquid channeling between them and sliding downward, diverging at her thighs to trail down her legs, and ultimately, back to the floor. It reviled her, but she was helpless to do anything about it. It cooled on her skin, forming a thick, sticky film of crimson.
Once the blood was applied, she reached for the black grease. The substance was fingered onto her body in curving lines and designs; no part of her body was left untouched. Irma seemed to concentrate more on her face, smearing the stuff around her eyes, and smudging her lips and chin. It stank like death.
Irma stepped back to admire her work, smiling as those pale eyes roamed over her work. “Master will be very pleased,” she titillated.
“Wouldn’t the clothes mess it up?”
“Silly girl,” Irma laughed. “You’re the lowest of the low among the slaves. You do not get clothing.”
“What?!” Vi exclaimed. “Horseshit! Let me down from here!” The chains rattled noisily as she struggled.
A strong fist broadsided her face, and Violet paused, pain shooting throughout her skull. She tasted blood. “You stop that right now,” Irma hissed.
Violet’s eyes narrowed. Hatred welled deep within her chest, and spat the blood directly into Irma’s wretched face. Vi watched in satisfaction as the red liquid dribbled down the other woman’s cheek and plopped in thick drops onto her chest.
“You’re going to pay for that,” the silver-eyed woman seethed. Angrily, she grabbed the bucket and grease and left without further comment, the door latching behind her.
Violet let the anger seep through her veins, her skin glowing beneath the thick coating of blood and grease. Shadows danced on the walls from the intensity, and for a moment, it was a terrible beauty to admire.
Flashes of memories flipped through her mind, and she had a thought. Why not just try to burn through the chains? Biting her lip, Violet concentrated that energy into her arms, pushing it down, down towards her wrists. The metal began to heat up and glow, singeing her flesh. She cried out softly as the metal began burning her skin, and she was almost sure it would blister. The energy itself, while contained within her would never hurt her, but for objects that were being pumped full of it, it was the same as sticking it in a furnace and applying it directly to her skin. A burn was a burn regardless of how it was made.
The shackles were turning orange with the intensity of the energy being shoved into it, with the very edges of white forming in spots closer to her skin. The pain was almost unbearable now, but still she tried to break free. Something cracked and began to slacken, and the point where the chains secured to the shackles snapped. Her body sagged as one hand worked itself free, but the other was still trapped. Taking no time to assess the damage of her wrist, she pushed even more energy into that wrist, her fingertips disappearing under the intense light of her ki.
“Come on, baby, just a little more…” she pleaded, tears of both pain and hope rimming her eyes. Freedom was so close, she could taste it…if she just –
The door crashed open, and two figures walked in. They were covered in a black hooded outfit that completely obscured their faces. The glow at her wrist intensified, and so did the pain; she had to get free or die trying!
The cloaked pair didn’t give her a choice in the matter. While one came around to her back to restrain her, jerking her free arm behind her and holding it immobile, the other unclasped the unbroken shackle, setting her arm free. The metal of the shackle still glowed orange hot, but if he felt anything from it, it didn’t show. Not even a whimper betrayed his steely demeanor.
From somewhere underneath the robe, he produced a pair of leather cuffs. She tried to jerk away, but the other figure held her completely in thrall. That wasn’t going to work, so she threw her body forward, her skull clashing against his chest in an attempt to keep him at bay as he tried to affix the straps around her wrist. He grunted, but continued his ministrations, clasping the buckle, and pulling it back behind her to join the other wrist.
“Stop this!” she cried out.
Her plea was ignored as the other wrist was also strapped and affixed behind her. They gave her a shove towards the door, and she had no choice but to move towards it. Her eyes narrowed furiously at the doorway as the cloaks flanked her, a hand clasped around each of her forearms to lead her onward.
Not knowing where she was going, or what they were going to do, Violet could feel the fear swirling furiously around in the pit of her stomach. Her body began to glow again, a soft reddish light pulsing just beneath the skin as anger pushed back the fear, burning throughout her body. Fire singed along her skin, very faint, but died away quickly.
“I am going to enjoy ripping both of your skulls from your necks, you know that, right?” Violet seethed at the two men. They ignored her, as she expected. “Do you really think these weak ass straps are going to hold me?”
They tightened their grips on their respective arm. She flexed, bulging against their grasps. There was very little slack, but it was just enough. She let the anger fill her until her skin flushed away any remnant of her original tone. The power surged through her, the force throwing the figures back. Leather ripped, and her wrists were free. Reaching down, she grasped the shackles that bound her ankles and tore them away, throwing them to the side with a loud clang!. She was free!
Her legs, weakened from being shackled for so long, struggled as she took off down the hallway, not knowing where she was heading, but knowing she had to get away. She ran hard, bare feet slapping loudly against the stone.
She lurched forward, and there was no saving herself from the fall. Her face slammed against the stone, pain surging through her skull. Sliding several yards, she finally came to a stop against a wall of black fabric. What was under the fabric was hard as rock.
Moaning, her body throbbing in pain, she rolled over onto her back and looked up. “Impossible,” she breathed, her eyes locking onto the black clad creature’s face. His hood was gone, and what stared back was something she’d only seen in nightmares.
![[Image: visig2018.png]](http://epiqz.com/mysigs/visig2018.png)