The following totally fictitious writings of M Coolham are intended for the sole readership of those of LEGAL AGE. The ADULT ONLY material contained within is also for personal use only where local standards permit scenes of violence, torture and sex. Please do not read further if any of these subjects offend, or if you are not of legal age.

This is a work of fiction. The author does not condone violence of any sort.

The following is for your sole enjoyment and your cooperation in not using the material in any other application without the express permission of the author is requested. Thank you.

Interrogation of an Amazon

CHAPTER ONE.

Obtaining Her Name.

King Nemo stood over the map spread out across a large wooden table. He ruled over all the lands he could see bar one – Lumana. And it was Lumana he wanted to conquer. Not because it was a beautiful country, which it was with its crystal-clear lakes and snow-capped mountains, but because somewhere in that mysterious kingdom lay treasure beyond his wildest imagination. It would be the jewel in the crown of his Thoranian empire.

Lumana was populated by a tribe of Amazon warrior women, famed for their beauty and known everywhere for their fierceness and prowess in all aspects of warfare. The leader of the tribe was Princess Sempha whose looks and fighting ability were the stuff of legend. His spies had told him that she alone knew the location of the treasure, the information handed down from generation to generation and zealously protected. He knew also that the Princess was well guarded and that she had two specially trained and highly trusted bodyguards who accompanied her everywhere. He had considered a full-scale invasion but Lumana was a big country and hiding places for Sempha too numerous. He had considered taking hostages but he instinctively knew that Sempha would protect herself, and her precious knowledge, above all else; even over the lives of her citizens. As he looked at the map he pondered how best to overcome this elusive tribe and find the treasure. He heard a knock at the door.

"Come in" he said, not taking his eye off the map.

"My lord. I bring you good news." Nemo recognised Captain Tevo's voice, leader of his most elite troops. "We have captured an Amazon".

Nemo stood up and turned to face Tevo. The Captain made quite an impression at six foot four inches tall, his build matching his height. "An Amazon?" the king said with incredulity. "No one has ever captured an Amazon. Why should I believe you? Perhaps you think I am easily pleased". He noticed that Tevo was breathless and appeared battle weary.

"It's true," replied Tevo, all too aware of the king's quick and unpredictable temper. "Let me take you to her".

"Where is this Amazon you claim to have taken?"

"In the dungeons my lord".

"Is she dead? Of no worth to us? Is she fit only for the crows?"

"On the contrary my lord" smiled the Captain. "Not only is she very much alive, but she is also unmarked". The king allowed a glimmer of a smile to cross his lips. Tevo continued "And better still, she is one of Princess Sempha's two personal bodyguards!"

The king's surprise showed on his face.

"You don't believe me lord? Come and see for yourself".

"I shall", said Nemo. "Lead the way. And if you are lying, I shall have your head".

* * *

They left the king's chambers set high in the castle and walked down towards the dungeons built deep into the foundations, the king asking further questions.

"Tell me Tevo, how did you capture this remarkable prize? And what is her name?"

"She won't say". Tevo grabbed a flamed torch from the wall knowing they would need the extra light once they got closer to the dungeons. "My scouts saw the party of three walking through a forest just over the border in Lumana. Sensing the three warriors would return that way, I ordered twenty of my best men to set an ambush in a nearby gorge. We got lucky. The three women walked into the ravine and ten of my men appeared at each end of the gorge to block their escape".

Sweat appeared on Nemo's upper lip. He enjoyed battle stories. "Was there a fight?"

Tevo opened an iron barred-gate, the main entrance to the dungeons, and the two men set off down a flight of stairs, the light fading. Tevo held the torch high to illuminate their way. "My men were prepared for a tough fight but the skill and ferocity of the Amazons surpassed their expectations".

The king stopped at the bottom of the stairs. They had reached the first level of the dungeons. Looking along the corridor they could see rows of cells lining the walls, each sealed with a metal-bar door. They heard weeping. "Which one is she in?" asked the king.

"She's further down my lord. This one's too special to put with the others".

They set off down another flight of steps, the air getting thicker and the light dimmer. "Did you strip her?" asked the king, his heartbeat starting to quicken at the prospect of seeing an Amazon in the flesh at last. He had dreamt about this moment for years but he had scarcely imagined that he would get the opportunity to interrogate one. He held his expectations in check lest he was disappointed. On many previous occasions men had claimed to have captured Amazons only for him to discover that the prisoners had been ordinary female warriors.

"No, my lord" Tevo smiled, knowing that the king would be pleased with the answer. "We thought you'd want to watch her being stripped. We removed her armour but otherwise she is yours to strip as you choose. Slowly perhaps, one piece at a time – or ferociously, her clothes being ripped at with knives".

"Good call Tevo. Good call".

They reached the second level of dungeons. A wall of bars separated the two men from the corridor where a lone guard stood leaning against his sword. Through the grate were six cells, each sealed with wooden doors. Seeing the king the soldier straightened up. "I will behead you personally if she escapes from here" the king addressed the guard. "What's your name?"

"Britt" replied the guard. "She is not here my lord. She is held deeper down". Like every other warrior in the castle, the soldier had heard rumour of the Amazon's capture although few men truly believed it. No one had ever captured an Amazon; not alive anyway. Why should this time be different? And the Princess's personal bodyguard? Ha! Still, he thought it best to play along with Tevo's game. This staircase was the only way to reach the deepest level of the dungeons and Britt had witnessed the captive being taken downstairs in the dead of the previous night. The prisoner had been hidden under a black cloak that amply covered their body. He had seen six men wrestling the cloaked figure down the stairs and had surmised that only a male warrior could possibly warrant such attention.

"Why were you relaxing on duty?" the king asked the solider. "Call yourself a Thoranian?" The king was glad that Britt was in his service; there was a darkness about the man that he found unnerving.

Before Britt could answer, Tevo whispered to the king that perhaps he should go gently on the soldier – that Britt's brother had been one of the men killed during the capture of the Amazon although the news was yet to be broken to him. Nemo sniffed and turned to take the final flight of steps.

Although the king was tall, his thin frame did not avail him to battle. He had others who did that for him. His pinched face was beginning to redden with the exertion.

"Tell me the story of how this Amazon was taken".

"I will tell you with pleasure", said Tevo. "But it's a long story so I'll give you the details later. Suffice to say we lost eight of our twenty men in the process".

"EIGHT! How?"

"Sempha's bodyguards fought like wild animals. They charged the men that stood in front of them killing eight of the ten. The other Amazon bodyguard took the lead with the Princess between the two. The one we caught was taking up the rear. We only got her because one of the men in our rearguard had a heavy net with him".

"Sounds interesting", said the king, his heart beating faster. "I want to hear the details later". He thought a while. "She must pay for the lost lives of our comrades".

They reached the deepest level. Tevo's torch barely pierced the gloom. The sun's rays had never shone in this place. The air smelt of damp and creatures scurried at their feet. It had been a long time since anyone had been held at the third level down. It was reserved for the most precious of their prisoners. The king grabbed the Captain's forearm and looked him full square in the eye, the torchlight making both men seem gaunt. "Just one thing Tevo. Is this Amazon as beautiful as the legends say?"

Tevo smiled. "You must be the judge of that, my lord".

"Take me to her".

The men turned a corner and were confronted my two guards each standing astride a metal gate built into a wall of bars. "Open," ordered Tevo. "King Nemo goes here". The gate swung wide and they passed through. The king felt fear in the pit of his stomach. He turned and spoke to one of the guards, a bald man and the taller of the two. "Is she chained?" "Yes my lord", replied the man. "Very securely. I oversaw the exercise myself". The man smiled broadly, smelling his hand. "Her scent lingers. Here, if you're going in you'll need this key".

Tevo took the key and they walked on, rounded a bend, and saw a wooden door at the end of the corridor, the way lit by flamed torches. A tiny trap door was set lowdown into the oak, bolted shut. They walked slowly towards the door. "Ssshhh" Tevo whispered. They stood and listened. From behind the door they could hear the sound of clinking chains. Even in the semi-dark Tevo could see the king's eyes light up. "She's struggling".

* * *

Tevo turned the key in the lock and the noise from inside the cell stopped. The door swung inwards and light from eight torches flooded into the corridor, each man shielding his eyes. They looked down, stepped over the threshold, and raised their heads. What they saw made them gasp. The king heard himself say "Legend has it that the Princess is even more beautiful. Impossible surely". They stood and gaped.

Before them stood the Amazon warrior; their prisoner. Her hands were cuffed together with metal brackets around each wrist. A chain ran from the cuffs to a pulley in the dungeon ceiling which held her hands high above her head, the other end of the chain attached to a winch built into the wall behind her. Her legs were spread three feet apart, each ankle tied in a metal cuff and attached by short chains to manacles driven into the dungeon floor. She was six foot tall and her body was perfectly proportioned for her height. Long thick lustrous black hair flowed down her back. She had dark-amber eyes, slightly raised at the outside corners giving her a catlike appearance. Her facial features were pronounced yet fine; strong jaw-line, pretty nose, ears set close to her head. Over her torso she wore a sleeveless low-cut brown leather jerkin drawn together across her chest by a leather lace that wove across her breasts three times, her cleavage visible through the laces. A short white skirt covered the top of her legs, a slit each side rising to her waist. She stood in black leather thigh boots that rose to three inches above her knees. A large-buckled belt hung at her waist and a gold band in the shape of a serpent wound itself around her left bicep. A necklace of various charms hung around her neck. Her clothes were scarred from battle and marks on the leather showed where armour would be worn.

Perhaps most striking was her body. Her muscles were taut, toned, hard, beyond anything they had ever seen. Not massive – just incredibly fit and remarkably defined. So feminine and so very sexy. She had wide shoulders and a narrow waist. Her breasts were generous, the lace across her front straining to keep them within her tunic. Even in this light they could see that her skin was gently bronzed – and flawless. They estimated her age at twenty-five, maybe twenty-six; at the very peak of her physical condition.

She glared at the two men.

"Well," said the king. "You are truly magnificent. Are all your people as stunning as you?"

She remained silent.

The king stepped closer. "Have you a name?"

Nothing.

"I said, have you a NAME?"

Nothing.

The king turned to Tevo. "A stubborn one I think. They always succumb in the end". He turned back to the chained warrior and walked up to her so that his eyes were almost level with hers. At five foot nine inches tall he was shorter than she even though her legs were spread. "You can do this two ways my pretty. We'll ask you some questions over the next few days. If you answer them accurately and give us all the information we require I guarantee you will save yourself a lot of discomfort. You will be made my personal slave, a position far preferable to others…………….in captivity. But if you chose to remain silent you will be interrogated harshly. Believe me, you don't want to be passed into the hands of the dungeon master. No one has ever survived more than a day in his care". He looked her up and down. "I can see that you're fitter than anyone he's questioned previously so maybe you'd last a little longer". He smirked. "But you'll talk eventually. They all do. Again – what's your name?"

She looked at him impassively.

"Does she have a tongue Tevo?"

"Oh yes. By all accounts she yelled abuse at our troops when we abducted her".

"Last chance bitch. WHAT'S YOUR FUCKING NAME?"

She pulled at her chains. She knew these two would be easy pickings if she were free. The guards in the corridor she could deal with too. She'd make her way out of here if she could just extricate herself from the chains.

"OK. Have it your way. GUARDS," Nemo yelled. The two men from the end of the corridor came running. "You're going to strip this bitch and I'm gonna watch. Stand behind her and follow my instructions. I want an uninterrupted view". They went and stood behind their victim.

Four men, their hearts pounding. One woman – chained before them and at their mercy. Her breathing became deeper; her chest rising and falling in more pronounced fashion. She steadied her breath, years of training kicking in.

"You. Tall guy. Reach around in front of her and take off her belt". The man stood behind the warrior and reached an arm around each side of her. At six feet seven inches tall this guy was big; his arms reached with ease. He made quick work of the buckle, the belt clattering to the floor. Standing so close his face was brushed by her hair. Once again he smelt her scent. Sweet sweet sweet.

She remained impassive, her anger masked.

"Her necklace next".

The guard pulled back her hair, thick and soft in his hands, so he could untie the necklace. It fell at her feet.

"Now that thing on her arm". She flinched. The king smiled. "Precious is it? Remove it and throw it over to me". She watched as the guard unwound the adornment from her upper-arm. The king caught the decoration, sniffed it, and put it in his pocket. She glared at him fiercely for a moment and then controlled her mood again.

"And now her skirt. Rip it off".

Each guard placed a hand at the front of her skirt and simultaneously pulled away to the side and behind. In one deft move her thighs and buttocks were bare. She wore a pair of tiny black panties – more like a thong – that served to accentuate the length of her powerfully muscled legs. She knew that she was about to be the first Amazon ever seen naked by men - enemy men anyway. Each of these guys she could beat, three of them easily. But chained she was powerless to prevent her humiliation.

The king walked up to her and withdrew a knife from his belt. "Now your top". The chains clinked as she struggled. "Stay still my beauty. It's far too early to think of cutting your flesh. Anyway, I have others who do that for me". He bought the knife up to her chest and she started breathing more heavily, her chest rising and falling. Nemo placed the blade in-between her breasts just underneath the first of the three laces. He pulled the blade towards him. Plink. The lace was cut. More of her cleavage was revealed. He cut again. The jerkin fell further, still held across her chest by the final lace. Placing the knife between her breasts one last time, Nemo made sure the blade touched each mound. She felt the cold steel, goose pimples rising and quickly disappearing in the heat of the dungeon. The last lace was stubborn but…plink…..it gave way. Just as he'd hoped, her jerkin fell open but only far enough to see her full cleavage. The leather was stiff enough to hold its shape and leave her nipples hidden.

Nemo stepped back. "Cut off her top. Reveal her body". The two guards pulled back her jerkin and cut roughly at the material until it fell away.

"What about her panties?" asked the guard.

"Not just yet," said Nemo. "They come off when she's tied to my bed".

She stood before them, stripped naked but for her tiny panties and her thigh boots. Her breasts were large, high, firm, and well separated. Her nipples were dark brown and prominent despite the warmth in the cell. With her clothes removed it was obvious how years of training had sculpted her body. Not an ounce of fat; just solid muscle, firm flesh, and rounded shape. She flung back her hair into the faces of the men standing behind her in a sign of defiance. Her breasts jiggled with the motion. Nemo and Tevo soaked in the view. The king beckoned for the two guards to come and admire her and they did so, standing arms folded, yearning to touch the perfect bronzed hard-body that was chained helpless before their eyes.

"You really are beautiful. It's such a shame you won't co-operate. I'd hate for the dungeon master to scar you but I fear it's unavoidable if you chose not to answer our questions". He turned to Tevo. "It's getting late. We'll start interrogating her tomorrow. I don't want to leave tonight, though, without knowing her name".

Nemo walked up to her and circled her unprotected body talking in every curve and structure, noticing every muscle as it worked beneath her flawless skin. Standing straight upright, with her arms reaching high above her head, her triceps and broad shoulders were especially pronounced. Even with her arms outstretched they could see the shape of biceps lying flat. Her spread shoulder blades highlighted the V shape presented by her muscled torso. Her stomach was flat, her abdominal muscles a line of symmetry like gently undulating hills. Her waist was slim. Her legs were perfectly formed, her quads and calves shaped as if from a sculpture. Her boots amplified the look of her thighs. Her hair reached almost down to her waist, tapering into an arrow at its longest point. He ran his hand through her hair, feeling its texture. She shook her head as if to stop him, the chains above her head rattling. Standing this close to her Nemo could see she was sweating. The room was hot and the tension unbearable. Rivulets of liquid ran down her ribcage, between her breasts, along the centre of her back, and down the outside of her flanks.

Nemo ran his hand across her back. Perfect hard muscle under the softest skin. With her arms held high, the rear of her shoulders were dimpled. He noticed a tattoo on her right shoulder; a serpent's head with its mouth wide open and forked tongue spitting venom. Round firm buttocks, her tiny panties just about covering her most private place. Standing behind her the king could see the side of her breasts, their size too great to be hidden by her torso. He rubbed her sweat between his fingers and smelt his dampened hand. How could sweat smell so sweet?

He whispered something to the shorter guard who walked over to the winch built into the dungeon wall. She tried to look behind her but the winch was against the back wall so she couldn't know what the man was doing.

The king came round and stood in front of the prisoner. "Don't worry about him. Just tell me your name". Her silence risked humiliating Nemo in front of his men. "And what does the tattoo represent?"

He was met with a pair of fiery eyes and a set jaw.

He signaled to the guard who cranked the handle. Metal ground against metal and the chain holding her hands tightened pulling her arms higher. The guard continued turning, the metal ratchets in the winch clicking as each link bit. The Amazon was pulled higher. To keep her weight off her shoulders she now had to stand on tiptoe. "Hold it," said Nemo. The guard stopped. The muscles in her legs stood proud. Her breathing deepened noticeably, her large breasts rising and falling in a provocative way. Her abdomen was stretched, the skin pulled tight across her ribcage revealing muscle and bone beneath. Her body writhed as she struggled against being stretched, her muscles rippling, her breasts bouncing.

The king stepped closer. "Your name bitch".

The slightest of grimaces crossed her face. The sight of her discomfort excited Nemo. He signaled to the guard.

She was raised higher, her feet now off the floor. The chains holding her ankles tightened further. Still the guard turned the wheel. The metal cuffs holding her wrists and ankles, already tight around her limbs, bit into her flesh. Her body formed the shape of an inverted Y, suspended in mid-air.

"Your name. I want to know your name".

She threw her head back as if to summon strength. The chains were now too tight to clank together. She could feel her muscles being stretched. She resisted but the chain pulled relentlessly. The onlookers watched with pleasure as she fought a futile battle against the bonds. Her arms, chest, abdomen, legs - all pulled tight. Her breasts jiggled as she fought the chains, her body swaying gently.

The king walked up to her. Suspended in this way her breasts were just below his face. "Struggle all you like my pretty. You're mine now". Nemo slapped her right breast - hard. SMACK. The sound of flesh upon flesh echoed around the room. Her breasts swayed before coming to rest – firm. Her nipples reached out to him. He slapped her again. "Your name I said".

She glared back.

Once more he signaled to the guard. "She can still move her body. I want her stretched so tight that all movement is impossible". The guard engaged the mechanism but the winch would only take one more turn. She was fully extended, the sweat on her naked muscled body glistening under the light of the torches.

Nemo signaled for the taller guard. "Get her name. Use only her body, not her face nor her breasts. Leave no marks. I want her perfect for the parade tomorrow. But I need to know her NAME". The guard smiled. He couldn't believe his luck; that he had permission to play with the precious beauty.

The guard came up to her. She was helpless before him. Upright, stretched, tied. Her unprotected body presented a dream target. Open to him to use. He ran his hands down her body savouring the width of her upper torso in contrast to her tapered waist. From her elbows, across her taut triceps, down the side of her ribcage, over her slim waist, and onto her flanks, he studied every inch. His touch revolted her. He walked around the suspended woman looking her up and down, sizing her up, sometimes reaching out to touch her skin, occasionally giving her a gentle slap. It was almost as if he was buying a horse. He'd have checked her teeth but he didn't want to risk being bitten. To him she was just a piece of meat. He didn't fondle her breasts; that wasn't what this was about. This was business, and the brute had had his instructions. The Amazon and the guard both knew that this was all about humiliating her in front of the men. Mind games. They both knew that she was powerless to prevent him from touching her anywhere he wanted; from abusing her in any way he pleased. That in any ordinary scenario a thug like him couldn't even get close to having a woman as fine as her.

He came round to stand in front of her once more. She was breathing more heavily now, her chest expanding and contracting noticeably. Her firm breasts more inviting than ever. He flicked her rock hard nipples as if they were flies. He smoothed her stomach with the palm of his hand as if to find his mark. Her abdomen was stretched tight as a drum, involuntarily pulled inwards. It would be difficult for her to tense her muscles. With his height, and her suspended off the floor, he looked straight into her eyes. The smell of his breath, of his very presence, made her want to wretch. The tension was acute – a battle of wills. Could he make the Amazon talk? She wasn't going to let him win the first round.

"What's the matter idiot?" She spat out the words in condescending fashion. "Haven't you ever felt the body of a woman? You need a wash. You stink. Pig."

"Ha. She does have a voice," exclaimed Nemo. "And spirited too. So proud. She's like a wild animal. TAME THE BITCH".

Her words incensed the guard making the veins on top of his head stand out. He brute balled his fist. "Seems you're short on manners. Time to give you a lesson you won't forget". The brute slammed a punch into her upper thigh. THUD. The very particular sound of fist against solid muscle. Another punch, this time into the inner part of her other thigh. She swung in her chains almost imperceptibly – pulled so tight there was little give in her body. A third punch, this time into her stomach. Another. One two three, her abdomen taking appalling punishment. Another. This time she let out a groan. Again and again he hit her, pummeling her legs and torso.

"That's enough" said Nemo. "Get the idea bitch? Your NAME".

She shook her head giving him his answer. "Continue" he motioned to the guard.

For five minutes the man brutalised the suspended woman's bare body. Her thighs, her kidneys, the small of her back, her stomach again and again. She flung her head backwards and forwards as she absorbed the blows, occasionally wincing, a moan or two escaping from her lips. Her breasts bounced and quivered as her body adsorbed the blows. Red marks appeared on her skin. The sound of knuckles driven hard against muscle was sickening. By the time he was finished her head was hanging down on to her chest. Her body was slick with sweat.

"Is she conscious?" asked Nemo. The guard grabbed her hair and lifted up her head. "Yes. She can take more". He released his grip and her head fell back against her front.

"OK", said Nemo. "Tomorrow she'll take more. Much more". The king stepped forward, his member hard as a rock excited as he was by watching her being punished.

"Just one more blow?" the guard asked.

"Make it count," replied Nemo.

The guard stood close to her and put his arm behind her back, his palm flat against her skin, to hold her in place. She raised her head. He could feel her breath. She opened her eyes and glared at him as if to tease him; to suggest he couldn't hurt her. "Is that the best you can do?" she hissed through clenched teeth. "Mr. Fucking Big Shot getting off on beating a defenceless woman. You're pathetic".

"This one's for keeps bitch," said the brute and smashed his knuckles into her abdomen, driving his fist slightly upwards at the moment of impact making direct contact with her solar plexus. "Ugghhh". She flung back her head, winded. "That had to hurt," said Tevo.

"Had enough bitch?" She looked at the king standing in front of her, determined to show no pain on her face. "We're going to leave you now my pretty. Before I go I want to tell you about my plans; to give you something to think about while you recover your breath. Tomorrow you will be taken from here and you will be paraded before my people. You will be strapped to a log, your body tied outstretched as an exhibit of perfection for the crowd. Watching your muscles straining while you struggle will enhance the spectacle. Many don't believe we've captured a real live Amazon. Your beautiful hard body is living proof that we have. Then your interrogation will start - with a public whipping. It will be good for my soldiers' moral to watch you suffer and pay for the men you killed. Any time you start talking, we'll stop the interrogation. But if you chose not to cooperate you'll be handed over to the dungeon master and you'll spend each day and night in his company until you talk".

The muscled captive struggled against the chains that held her.

"I want her to have some strength for tomorrow. The more she struggles against the log and the whip the better the action. Let her have some sleep and a little food." The guard let down the chain. Her feet returned to the floor and her hands hung in front of her. Tevo picked up her clothes and necklace. "You won't be needing these any more," he told her. They left the room, each turning back for one last look at the Amazon beauty, their imaginations running wild. She stood unmoved absorbing their stares. Only when they were long out of earshot did she lie down on the dungeon floor adopting the fetal position. Her ankles remained chained, as did her hands, but she could at least sleep. Later some food and water were passed through the hole in the door.

The men retired for the night. Nemo could not believe his good fortune. The Amazon bodyguard would be interrogated until she revealed the whereabouts of the Princess. A party would be sent out to capture Sempha and then she, in turn, would be questioned until she revealed the location of the treasure. He would be rich….….and have an Amazon Princess as his personal slave! Just before he went to sleep he studied the arm jewelry that had been removed from the prisoner. He noticed some words inscribed on the inside and held it up to the candle. "To Amphora. With deep appreciation of your unstinting loyalty. Always, Sempha".

"Amphora. What a pretty name," he said out-loud. "You endured so much pain for nothing. You're MY plaything now".

At the same time as the king was in his bedroom studying the jewelry, a man was opening a door at the other end of the castle that led to a lower level. The soldier had no appetite for taking the stairs down. Few people ventured here. But he had a message to deliver although he had no desire to meet with the recipient personally. He would simply pass it under the door.

A short while later the dungeon master picked up a piece of paper from the floor. It was unsigned. "Nemo's got an Amazon. Alive. Tall, beautiful, muscled, big breasts – and very feisty. She's being paraded tomorrow. Take a look. Might be time to prepare the device".

To be continued…….

* * *

INTERROGATION OF AN AMAZON

CHAPTER TWO

Paraded.

Amphora lay on the floor, the stone cold and unforgiving. The flickering torches cast moving shadows, the light reflecting off the damp patches that pitted the walls. Creatures scampered in the corners of the dungeon but, whatever they were, they left her alone.

The Amazon's mind raced. She knew Sempha would come for her. But when? For how long would she have to hold out against these brutes? She remembered Sempha's words when she was first appointed as her bodyguard. "Whatever happens, don't let the Thoranians take you alive. The men are evil beyond words. Their women are ugly so you would be a great prize in their world. But above all else, gold is everything to them. They know that only I hold the secret to the location of the treasure. If they took you they would expect you to co-operate; to tell them where they would find me so that I, in turn, could be abducted and questioned to reveal my knowledge. If you chose to remain silent they would torture you in hideous ways. Even a woman with a body as remarkable as yours would be sacrificed if it meant getting closer to the gold".

"How do you know all this?" she had asked.

Sempha had looked away. A memory had come back to haunt her. He'd had the cruelest mouth and ugliest teeth she'd ever seen.

"I just know".

The words made Amphora shudder just as they had done when she first heard them. The subject was never broached again. It was as if it was too terrible to contemplate.

Amphora's body ached from the beating. But she was fit in the extreme and the discomfort would soon subside. The marks were already dulling. The guard knew how to inflict pain without leaving evidence. There were no bruises.

She ate the food and drank the water knowing she would need all her strength the next day, and probably for several days to come. The food was surprisingly good; fresh raw vegetables, meat and bread. She was under no illusion that catering to her taste buds was their intention; that this was about keeping her in peak condition for the ordeals that lay ahead. Amphora tried not to think about what they might have planned for her.

Despite her efforts to conjure up thoughts of home, the warrior's mind kept returning to the moment of her capture. She remembered killing at least three of the men. It was while withdrawing her sword from the torso of a dead soldier that she had felt the huge weight of the oily net come down on her. She had fought to escape, furiously cutting at the hemp with her dagger, but the men had been quickly upon her. While the soldiers had pinned her down she had heard their leader yelling instructions. "Hold the bitch but don't mark her". Even at that moment of intense stress she knew the full meaning behind the words. That she had been taken alive and that she was to be delivered unmarked because it would increase the pleasure of the Thoranian king. She remembered the net being removed and her hands being tied behind her back. The leader, not satisfied, had bound her elbows too. "This one's too precious. She mustn't get away". The men had removed her armour taking every opportunity to brush themselves against her struggling body. She could almost hear the sound of it being thrown onto a pile. "Gag her", the leader had shouted. "I don't want her Amazon friends alerted to our position. If twenty of them come for her we're doomed". Seeing one of the men removing a yellow-stained cloth from his pocket she had clamped her mouth shut. They had held her head while the rag was put against her lips, held in place by a rope across the front of her mouth that was gathered behind her head by one of the thugs. He had pulled and yanked at the rope until her teeth had been wrenched apart and the filthy thing thrust into her mouth. Having successfully gagged her they had tied the rope tight around her head, her cheeks forced back baring her perfect teeth. Even now she could taste the foul gag. Looking back she wondered again if she could have escaped but it was hard to see how. So many men against just one woman – even for her too great a force to overcome.

Amphora couldn't have known that while the men had been preparing her for their departure, Sempha and Glaina had been watching the scene from a safe vantage point. Sempha's golden hair shone in the sun, tears welling up in her pale blue eyes. Glaina had flung back her mane of curly copper hair, fire in her emerald green eyes, anger welling up inside her at the treatment being metered out to her twin sister. "There's twelve of them and two of us. We can handle those bastards. Let's save her". Sempha had gripped her bodyguard's forearm. "We can't risk it Glaina, much as I'd like to. Amphora can't help us and they still have that net. No. We need to get back and organize a rescue mission. Your sister is strong". "But look how they outnumber her," Glaina had protested. "I understand how you feel", Sempha had said. "I do. Trust me. But it's best we go and get an assault group ready, plan thoroughly, and act". The two warriors had crawled back from the hillside and run home.

It had been a two-day journey back to the Thoranian castle for the soldiers and their beautiful prisoner. They had tied a noose around her neck and made her walk behind one of the horses. Anyone less fit than her would have had difficulty keeping up. As it was, the gag had impeded her breathing. They had only stopped for food and water once each day. "We're the first to have taken an Amazon alive," the Captain had said. "We must get her to the castle as quickly as possible before they can attempt a rescue. We'll be safer once we've crossed the border".

The group had entered friendly territory late that afternoon and just before midnight had holed up for the night at the house of an ally. The owner had been sworn to secrecy about the nature of their captive lest word slip out as to her whereabouts. Amphora had been taken to an upstairs room and tied to a bed. The men had not risked untying her hands or elbows; they had satisfied themselves with spreading her legs wide, tying her ankles to the bed posts, and tying a rope around her neck, each end of the rope reaching to the opposite corner of the bed above her head, tight enough to restrain but not to mark. The leader had reminded his men that she was not to be harmed; that the king was to be the first man to have her. Guards had been stationed at the bedroom door and the leader himself had fed her although he required help from two men to replace her gag. "Mind out, she'll bite you. This one's wild". "Taming her's going to be fun," one of the men had observed. The householder's wife had been instructed to wash the bound warrior as much as was possible without stripping or untying her, and to help her relieve herself. The woman had been kind and respectful but would offer the Amazon no assistance to escape; the price that would have been paid by the householder's family was too high to risk.

The next morning they had come for her early. They had wanted to smuggle her into the castle unannounced. "Nemo will want to be the first to see her". She had been bundled into the back of a covered wagon and hidden under a blanket. It had seemed an age but eventually they had arrived at the castle. She had been taken from the wagon, covered in a black cloak, and taken down to the dungeons. She had fought her abductors as best she could but had been too securely tied to offer any meaningful resistance. Then had followed the humiliation of being stripped. And then the punishment.

She felt her eyes getting heavy. "Come Sempha. Come Glaina. Come soon". She drifted into sleep.

* * *

Elsewhere in the castle, Tevo was surrounded by a bevy of soldiers all anxious to hear the story of the Amazon's capture. Word was beginning to spread that she would be paraded the next day. People started believing that perhaps it was true; that the army really had taken an Amazon warrior alive. Their hearts quickened at the prospect of seeing one of these legendary creatures firsthand.

"……..and you should have seen her struggling under that net! Like a lioness in a trap". He liked an audience; a chance to brag. "By the time Pilo and Chrim got to her she'd almost cut through the damn thing. Then everyone piled on top of her, ripped away the net, and held the bitch against the ground face down - overpowered. Jemius tied her hands behind her back but I wanted to be sure. A couple of guys pulled her elbows together and roped her. I told them not to mark her but they couldn't resist pulling those ropes real tight!" The crowd laughed. "She was thrashing around like a fish out of water. I tell you, it took all their strength to hold her. Then they turned her over – put her on her back. Streuth. She was a sight for sore eyes".

"What do you mean?" a voice asked.

"With her elbows tied together her shoulders had been forced right back thrusting her breasts forward. Never seen such gorgeous tits. Heaving and straining against her top. It took all of my discipline not to rip off her clothes and give her one there and then. But Nemo would have had my balls for breakfast". More laughter. "The king wants a night with her before the dungeon master gets his filthy hands on her".

"Lucky bastard" someone whispered. Murmurs of agreement followed by laughter.

"Jemius tied a rope around the prisoner's neck", Tevo continued, "and hauled her to her feet. She was kicking and struggling but we had her. I was worried she might have tried to call out to her friends so I had her gagged. After a little persuasion, Pilo's handkerchief got stuffed into her mouth".

"That's disgusting" from a number of people.

"The woman was silenced. And we dragged her off. And here we are. You wait till you see her tomorrow boys. Trust me. You've never seen anything like it".

"More" from one man.

"Describe her" from another.

"What's her name?" from a third.

"I'm not good with words," replied Tevo. "You'll see her for yourselves tomorrow. Just this though. Sure, she's pretty as hell. But it's her body. Fuck. I've never seen such a hard body. Every muscle tight and taut. Toned like you wouldn't believe. And so amazingly sexy. So feminine".

"Does she look like a body builder?" asked a soldier.

"No no" answered Tevo. "She's not a body builder. She's just incredibly fit with stunning definition, perfect skin, the thickest silkiest hair, and the horniest smell. Sure, she's a six footer……." whistling from a man at the back "……….but everything's in proportion. I mean, when she was running behind the horse I was wetting myself. The muscles in her flanks like those of a goddess. Her breasts jiggling. Her hair swinging from side to side. And I could see from the way her muscles were working in those rounded shoulders and powerful arms that she was struggling all the while against the ropes. Some woman!"

"But what's her name?" came the question again.

"That's another story," said Tevo. "Listen, it's late. You'll hear more tomorrow. I can tell you this though. That's one tough bitch. She doesn't just look rock hard. She IS rock hard. Glamus, that tall bloke, was told to get her name out of her. There she was, stripped, stretched, tied tight, completely helpless in front of him. He gave her a good beating but to no effect. She's spirited; I'll give her that. She took the punishment and said nothing. And all we wanted was her name!"

"How was she tied?"

"What kind of a beating?"

"No. Not now. It's too late". Tevo got up to go. "I'll tell you who'll be happy though. The dungeon master". Silence. The elusive figure's reputation spoke for everyone. "His dream woman is tall, beautiful, muscled, big-breasted – and feisty. He's got a treat coming his way!"

"Do you think he'll use the device on her?" someone dared to venture.

"For her sake, I hope not". Tevo thought a moment. "He designed that appalling thing a while back but hasn't used it yet. Says he's waiting for the right subject. I'd bet my last shirt she'll be the first".

* * *

The cell door burst open. Amphora awoke immediately. Usually she would have heard them coming and knew she must have been in a deeper sleep than she realized. Tevo was standing in the doorway a wooden club in one hand, a sackcloth dress in the other. She had no idea what time it was.

"Wake up beauty queen. It's show time". He smiled. "Tie her as I described".

Six men stormed into the room. They were well organized. Before she could get up two men grabbed her arms and pulled them out over her head. They slammed Amphora's arms and back against the floor, her lightening reactions tensing her neck at the last moment to prevent her skull from hitting the stone. The men knelt on her biceps to hold her down and unfastened the chain that led from her handcuffs. Her hands remained bound. She struggled fiercely, writhing and bucking in her efforts to escape, her booted ankles held by the manacles. The sides of her breasts smacked against the floor as she arched her back and wrenched her torso from side to side. Her breathing was heavy with the effort. The soldiers pinning her arms looked down the length of her body as she fought. Stretched out in this way her abdomen lay flat, her pelvic bone standing proud bridged by the front of her panties. They both caught a glimpse of her mound and the forest of dark hair that covered it, neatly trimmed into a straight line. They caught each other's eye and grinned.

Two men grabbed her left leg, one sitting on her thigh, the other holding her calf. Another man unlocked the ankle cuff, and the sixth man put on another cuff attached to a length of chain long enough to allow her to walk but too short for her to run. They repeated the exercise with her right leg. She raised her head to look at the men tying her ankles, her stomach tensing into ridges of solid muscle. With the Amazon splayed out, Tevo drove the end of his club into her unprotected abdomen. Wood against flesh. THUD. She gasped. "That's for starters, bitch".

The soldiers hauled Amphora to her feet. Tevo threw the dress to one of the men and, while others forced her arms into the air, it was pulled over her head and down her body, a seam holding it in place above her large breasts. The white garment, slightly fitted at the waist, came down to her mid-thighs leaving a tantalizing glimpse of her muscled bronzed legs just above her black thigh boots. They attached a chain leash around her handcuffs.

"You're coming with us. We don't want to keep your fans waiting".

They pulled her out of the room and along the corridor. She fought in vain against the men; two of them were pulling the leash, the others in support shoving her from behind. The warrior's ankle chain clanked against the stone floor. The soldiers manhandled her up the stairs, the dungeon guards staring at the beautiful Amazon, thick black hair flaying as she struggled. As they neared the exit their ears filled with sound from the waiting mob, like hyenas baying for blood. "AMAZON. AMAZON".

They pushed their prisoner into the open air. She squinted against the glare, instantly feeling the sun's heat on her skin. A huge cheer went up from the crowd. There must have been hundreds of them. Thousands even. Soldiers lining the battlements looked down at the spectacle. Thoranian flags flew from the four towers that marked the corners of the quadrangle, the red Minotaur against a white background a menacing sight. Amphora looked up and saw a wooden platform assembled in the centre of the courtyard on which was positioned a thick oak log supported by two posts set three feet apart. She could just make out two rusty manacles, one at each end of the wood. The posts were topped with a Y-shaped construction holding the log and tall men with ropes dangling from their hands stood one each side of the beam.

The group started making their way to the platform, the throng parting in front of them as their victim was dragged forward. Those at the back could only make out a dark haired figure being pulled along but those close enough were able to witness a sight they thought they'd never see: a live Amazon chained and led like a dog. They saw how she strained against the bonds. The muscles rippling in her strong arms and powerful shoulders were mesmerizing to behold, the glimpse of her thighs below the white skirt electrifying. They took her around the back of the platform and dragged her up onto the stage. They forced her to stand at the front, the log behind her. The spectators shrieked with pleasure. They always loved the parading of war booty, but this captive was a league above anything they had seen previously. Looking out Amphora could see mostly men but there were female faces too; ugly just as she had been told. The women were enjoying the show every bit as much as the men. She was surrounded by six soldiers, two holding each of her arms. Tevo came onto the platform and waved the crowd to hush.

"I present to you the AMAZON!" They roared again. "See. It was no lie. We have taken one alive. Now she is ours. YOURS!" Loud cheers. "What do you want to do with her?"

Chants and yells came from all sides, most of it indecipherable. She could make out a few phrases. "Whip the bitch. Torture her. Skin her alive. Serve her to the dogs". She remained impassive. The crowd grew quiet and a person near the back called out "Give her to the dungeon master". Everyone turned to stare.

"Shall we tie her?" yelled Tevo. Cries of approval.

He turned to the six men. "You know what to do".

Before Amphora knew what was happening one of the guards came up behind her and grabbed her around the neck, his forearm gripping her like a vice. Gasping for breath she was hauled backwards towards the log, the chains at her feet nearly causing her to stumble. She was thrown against the log and, just as she was regaining her balance, another soldier, positioned behind the wood, grasped a clump of her hair. He pinned her head on the top of the log, his arm leaning heavily across her throat. She winced, her face betraying the difficulty she was having breathing. Her eyes bulged, her face started to redden, and her tongue reached for air. They knew she couldn't fight in this position. Even through the dress she felt the wood's roughness across her bare back and shoulders.

Two men grabbed her left leg and undid the metal cuff. They pulled her booted limb across to the post, tied her ankle, and did the same to her right leg. The thugs were aware that this next part was the most dangerous – releasing her hands. Two soldiers held her right arm, two her left. Another of the group undid the cuffs that held her wrists. The moment they were free, the men hauled her arms up to the log. The warrior knew she was to be tied and fought like a wild creature, the muscles in her biceps and triceps flexing as she struggled. The sinews in her shoulders showed through her flesh. Despite the fierceness of her resistance they held her pinned. Five onto one was too many. The men standing at each end of the posts started tying her wrists to the oak. Her head darted from side to side as she fought, her hair flaying. They wound the ropes around her wrists, through the manacles, and around the log time and again until there was no movement in her arms. When he knew their victim was securely restrained the man who held her head released his grip. The soldiers pulled away and there she was for all to see: tied to the log arms outstretched, her legs spread and bound to the posts. They had secured her in such a way that her arms were bent at the elbows. In this position, her biceps and triceps were accentuated, as was the roundness and size of her shoulders. The crowd roared.

Tevo approached the prisoner and pulled her hair away from her face, pushing it down behind her back.

"Is she beautiful enough for you?" he cried out.

Again they cheered. This was the reaction he had hoped for. He knew the king wanted information, and soon, but this exhibition was important moral building for his troops and was worth the extra time. He knew that they would all remember this day; the day they saw their first Amazon in captivity. And they would want more in the future.

"Do you want to see her body?"

The people went berserk.

The Captain smiled and produced a knife. He made as if to check the blade was sharp, acting out as if he'd cut himself. Laughter. He approached the helpless struggling woman and the crowd silenced. She was about to be humiliated further and there was nothing she could do to prevent it.

He stood before her. "So, my proud beauty. What are you going to do to stop me from showing these people your stupendous body? I thought you were supposed to be strong?! Go on. Stop me"

She gnashed her teeth and made a sound like a tigress hissing. "Give me one moment with you, just one moment, even with my hands tied, and I'll beat you to a pulp. You and any of your pathetic soldiers". The crowd cheered. That she was feisty and spirited heightened the drama.

"Be careful what you wish for, Amazon".

He flicked his knife through the seam just above her heaving breasts. Then he went behind her and made the same cut at her back. The dress was held in place by thin material. Coming round to face her again he replaced the knife in his belt. Off in the distance a crow could be heard such was the quiet in the square.

"No one's ever seen you naked before have they? Except last night of course. And now, Amphora, your body is public property. Amphora. Such a pretty name".

She glared at him. In her culture no one called her Amphora unless they were her friend. To hear him use her name sullied its sound.

Tevo moved off to one side to ensure she was in full view of the audience. He signaled to two of the men who came and stood one each side of her. Each grabbed a side of her dress. She thrashed against the ropes harder than ever, her chest rising and falling with her breathing. "Ladies and gentlemen. I present…….Amphora, personal bodyguard to Princess Sempha".

A ripping sound cut through the silence as she was stripped. The crowd got their first look at her magnificent body. Gasps, howls of delight, men suddenly hardening. None of them had seen such beauty.

"Whip the bitch" came from a man in the crowd. "Whip her. Whip her. Whip her," they yelled in unison.

She felt totally vulnerable. So utterly exposed. She desperately wanted to cover her breasts; an instinctive protective reaction. She looked hard to her left at the ropes that held her outstretched arm to the wood. She flexed her hand in and out, the effect of her working muscles rippling through her arm. She looked to her right. The same again. There was no give. Her pectorals ached with the effort of trying to free herself, desperate as she was to cover her bare chest. She was tied spread out for them to take her in. Every time she struggled her breasts swayed from side to side – bounced up and down. The crowd was lapping up the spectacle.

"Shall we take her down?" asked Tevo.

"No. No." screamed the people. "Leave her to bake," a female's voice above the others.

"It seems the crowd wants to drink you in for a while longer. I'll leave them to it". Tevo made as if to leave the platform but remembered one last thing. "You have only to say if it gets too uncomfortable. Tell us where we'll find the Princess and we'll take you down. Your ordeal will be over. Remain silent and………….well, I can't speak of the consequences for your body". He left the platform, the guards staying to enjoy the view close-up.

They left their victim spread-eagled in the fierce heat for two hours. To Amphora it seemed like an eternity. No one was allowed onto the platform but people thronged forward to get a better look. They took in her bronzed flawless skin, her stunning face, her cat-like fiery eyes, her outstretched arms rippling as she fought, her biceps, triceps, and shoulders especially prominent, her astonishing breasts with their distinctive nipples, her flat muscled abdomen, her V-shaped torso, her slim waist, her tiny black panties, her powerful shapely legs so sexy in her thigh boots. She sweated from every pore, the glistening sheen on her body heightening her allure. In his mind e very man had her in his bed, the Amazon crying out in ecstasy or pain depending on the nature of the fantasy he was enacting. The women had her too, either tasting the juice between the warrior's parted legs or scarring her, their jealously for her incredible beauty enraging them.

The log was harsh against Amphora's skin. The sun beat down mercilessly on her naked body. Her mouth was parched with thirst. The worst pain for her, though, was the humiliation. "Thoranian plebs" she screamed. "I will be rescued and you'll pay for this". The crowd liked a fighter.

At the other end of the square, in full view of her vision, she noticed some men erecting a tall thick wooden post on top of another stage. Instinctively she knew that that was her next destination.

Tevo was walking towards the whipping post when a messenger approached him. "The king wants to see you immediately Captain". Tevo made his way to Nemo's quarters and knocked on the door. "Come in." He entered the room and the king beckoned him to take a seat. "Sounds like a popular show going on outside," said Nemo. "She gives a good performance," replied Tevo. "She's the strongest I've seen yet".

Nemo passed the Captain a scroll and sat back in his chair. "Based on what I saw last night", he said. "I think she'll hold out against our questioning for quite a while". He leaned forward, an all-consuming greed etched into the lines on his face. "And I don't feel like waiting. That's a plan I've written. Study it". Tevo unraveled the parchment and read for a moment. "An excellent idea my lord. When shall we leave?"

"Tomorrow if possible. The Amazons will be taking no chances. Although they know Amphora is strong and will resist as long as she can, they'll probably assume that she'll break eventually. They know we'll then come for their Princess. An attempt to rescue our captive is a certainty but they won't risk Sempha. She'll be involved in the preparations but once they're complete she will go deep underground. We need to get to her before that happens. Take the sea route. They will be anticipating a land offensive. Going the longer way round will cost an extra two days but you'll have the advantage of surprise". Tevo nodded as he listened. "The woman being paraded in the courtyard will be handed over to the dungeon master very soon. If she talks," he checked himself, "sorry, WHEN she talks, we'll send you the information she reveals with our fastest riders".

"I'll get on to it right away", said Tevo getting up to leave.

"One more thing Tevo". Nemo held the Captain's eyes. "You did well capturing this one. But I want the Princess. Do what you have to. Bring her here. Alive. I want the treasure and I want it NOW".

At a window high up in the castle, looking down at the perfection of the Amazon woman's struggling outstretched naked body, a man stood and smiled, thin mean lips baring yellowed broken teeth. He'd seen an Amazon once before, in another place, when he was working for a different leader prior to the overthrow of his country by the Thoranians. He remembered how he'd approached her while she was being taken to her cell. The guards had given him a moment and he'd thrust his hand into her honey-blonde hair, yanked back her head, and whispered into her ear, telling her all the gruesome things he was going to do to her once she'd been handed over to him for questioning. He'd released her hair and, even now, all this time later, his face flushed with rage when he recalled how she'd glared at him, mocking him with her cool light-blue eyes, before spitting in his face. The soldiers had whisked her away giving him no opportunity to retaliate.

Those eyes. They taunted him then and they taunted him now. But the idiot guards had let her escape before he'd had a chance to interrogate her. It was that woman who had inspired him to design the new equipment. He'd hoped against hope that one day he would be presented with a suitable victim. He had no intention of wasting the first thrill of its use on any regular prisoner.

He turned away from the window and made for the door muttering to himself. "Tall, beautiful, muscled, big breasts – and very feisty. Just like the note said. Time to prepare the device. At last I have a worthy subject".

To be continued…….

* * *

Interrogation of an Amazon

CHAPTER THREE

Whipped.

Amphora heard footsteps on the stairs at the back of the platform. Britt appeared in front of her, his shadow providing a moment of respite from the relentless sun. He stood leering at her.

"Recognise me pretty one?" She thought she'd seen him that morning guarding the second level of the dungeons but everything had happened in such a blur she couldn't be sure. She'd seen a hundred faces pass before her eyes as they had dragged her to be paraded.

"I've never seen you before," she replied, locking eyes. "You're as ugly as hell so I'm sure I'd remember you".

"So beautiful. So feisty." He walked up to her and pinched her face between his fingers. The soldier was stocky in build, five foot eight inches tall. "I like breaking tall proud women. Look at me again bitch. Look hard". She glared down at him and shook her head free of his grip, her hair flaying and her breasts swaying provocatively.

"Get your hands off me, scum".

He angled his head up and went to kiss her. She turned away. His back was to the crowd so they had been unable to see the brief exchange. For so many to have witnessed his rejection would have been unthinkable. Only the two of them knew that she had won that skirmish. He pulled away.

Those at the front of the crowd sensed there was a battle of sorts underway on stage and started moving to the sides of the platform to get a better view of the action. The soldier saw them. He was determined not to loose face. Getting her to talk would win him great kudos; promotion even.

She turned back towards him, narrowing her eyes. "Don't you dare touch me, little man. I'm way out of your league".

"Try and stop me my spirited friend". He stepped forward again. "Watch me. I'll do as I please with you". Amphora balled and unballed her fists. She arched her back and raised her torso, driving her head back against the top of the log in yet another futile attempt to free herself. The Amazon's breathing deepened, her ribcage expanding and contracting, her breasts rising and falling. His face was only inches away from her prominent nipples. "Struggle bitch". How he enjoyed watching her squirm. The view of her body from so close surpassed even his wildest fantasy.

Britt tweaked and flicked her nipples as if to demonstrate his total control of her. He rubbed his hand across her stomach, his fingers tracing every ridge of her muscled abdomen through a layer of sweat. He let his thumb run through the dimples formed each side of the muscle band that ran down her body from the centre of her chest. He watched her breasts gently bobbling, their weight giving them a momentum she was powerless to control. From this close he could hear the softest squeaks coming from her leather boots as she fought the ropes. He could see that what appeared from a distance to be an unbroken sheen of sweat was in fact thousands of tiny droplets merged together. He watched while one, then another, then three together, tumbled into each other and cascaded down her body like mini waterfalls. Everything about this woman was tantalizing.

Without warning Britt grabbed her left nipple between his finger and thumb and squeezed hard. Harder. Harder still. He twisted the nipple backwards and forwards as if he was trying to detach it from her aureole. It slipped in his hand making him tighten his grip even further. He savoured its rough texture between his fingers. He saw her eyes squint betraying her discomfort. The man drove his thumbnail into the nipple and heard her sharp intake of breath. Knowing he'd found a weak spot, he pulled her nipple sharply towards him elongating her breast away from her body. With his other hand he unsheathed his dagger and placed the blade against her extended nipple. Despite the heat she could feel the steel's coldness. "Want me to cut it off? Serve it to the dogs?" He circled her aureole with the tip of the blade. "Where's Sempha?"

"You wouldn't dare. The king would kill you. And you know it." She was bluffing but reckoned he looked stupid enough to believe it. "He wants it for himself. Not that he's going to get it".

"Be sure, the king would consider the loss of a nipple a small price to pay for information leading to Sempha's hiding place". He released her nipple and ran the shiny blade down towards the base of her breast allowing the knife to press against her heaving flesh, indenting but not cutting. She fought to check her breathing in an effort to calm the thug. She knew she was exciting him and that one careless slip could result in her being cut. The blade rested in her cleavage, the sharp edge threatening her right breast. Britt met her eyes. "Do you know how much it hurts when a breast is cut?"

Silence.

" DO YOU?" He pressed the knife against her chest.

"No" she remained steady, her heart pounding.

"Shall we find out?"

"I'll tell you nothing," she said. Had mouth had never felt so dry.

"There's other places we could have some fun". He grinned.

The soldier noticed the muscles in her arms flexing as she engaged her bonds for the hundredth time. Her arms and legs were held as securely now as they had been for the past two hours. She was powerless to prevent him doing what he wished with her; to graze her, to knick her, to cut her, to stab her. Her hard bronzed body was spread open before him; an open target. So very strong yet so utterly vulnerable. No one had ever held a knife to her flesh before now. And she didn't like it.

Slowly he drew the knife down her cleavage and bought it to rest under her right breast. He angled the blade upwards, the dagger's tip brushing against her torso, and let the knife take the weight of her breast. The soldier raised the dagger, her flesh falling each side of the steel. She drew in her breath hoping to raise her breast – take its weight off the knife. He bounced her luscious tit on the edge of the blade. She'd never felt so helpless. A millimeter higher and the steel would have pierced her skin. He moved from her breast and guided the dagger onto her abdomen. The man pressed harder, the blade making a groove as it passed through the sweat and over her skin like the keel of a boat through still water. She drew in her stomach – and the knife followed the concave pattern. She took shallow breaths in an effort to keep the pressure of the dagger off her midriff. With her stomach held in tight her ribcage became enlarged, the V shape of her torso was accentuated, her breasts thrust forwards and upwards. The spectators at the sides of the platform gaped in awe at the Amazon's astonishing profile.

Britt stopped at her belly button and put the tip of the blade inside. He played with her, moving the knife from side to side. His hand appeared to jerk. Amphora winced. "Oh," he said. "Looks like we've had a little accident. Nothing to mark your beauty of course. No one will see a little scar in there". A drop of blood appeared, just sufficient to spill out from her belly button. The soldier removed the knife and collected the blood on his fingertip. He raised his hand to her face and tried to smear it across her mouth but she turned away. He reached for her lips a second time but she shook her head violently. "Not thirsty?" he said and wiped his finger clean in the sweat between her breasts. "Now then. Where were we?"

He placed his dagger against her just above her belly button. The man worked the knife around her navel enjoying the gentle curve of flesh that surrounds the belly button of even the flattest of stomachs. He noticed a line of the finest fairest hair he'd ever seen – almost invisible - and followed it south.

He ran the tip of the blade underneath the rim of her tiny black panties and worked the steel from side to side. She swallowed involuntarily. A strand of her hair fell across her face and she flicked her head to clear it. "Frightened are we my precious?" Fear was smelt.

Britt used the flat of the blade to pull her panties forward. He looked down her front, lingered, and moved the blade into the centre of her dark soft hair. He raised his head to meet her eyes. "Shall I shave you in front of all these people, Amphora?" he asked, smiling. The thought of it almost made her wretch but she managed to remain impassive.

He withdrew the blade, her panties snapping back into position. "Very pretty". He turned slightly to one side and yelled out to the audience as if delivering an aside. "STRAIGHT LINE". Immediately he faced the tied Amazon once again, anxious to enjoy every second of her intense humiliation at the hands of the laughing jeering audience. He had evened the score. Britt put away his knife.

"Enough messing around," he said, putting his arms on his hips. "You killed my brother and I'm going to make you pay".

"Was he the one who cried like a stuck pig?" she snarled.

He slapped her across the face and drove his fist into her stomach. The crowd cheered, those at the side of the stage getting an especially good view of Amphora's tensed stomach muscles repelling the blow. He stood smoldering in front of her. "I've been given the honour of whipping you and you've just given me double the reason to enjoy it. Before I've finished you'll be begging me to stop. And you'll tell me what I want to know".

He shouted down to a group of soldiers. "She's ready. You know where to take her. Treat her rough if you need to but don't mark her - just yet".

Four men ran up the stairs and Britt stepped aside. One of the soldiers approached her, a long rope dangling from his hand, intending to make a leash around her throat. As he drew the rope around the back of her neck she snapped her head to one side and tried to bite him. "Oooh. You're vicious," he said. "Different from anyone we've dealt with before".

"I'm going teach this woman a lesson," said Britt. "Give me the rope".

She struggled furiously as he came forward, the men in awe of her muscled body writhing against her bonds. Her skin was shiny with sweat, the sheen adding to her sex appeal. Britt held out a length of rope in front of him, taut between his hands. She watched helplessly as he placed the rope underneath her right breast and bought it up the side and over the top winding it tight around the base, her tit quivering. He bought the rope across the centre of her chest and to the top of her left breast before circling the cord around its base. He wound the rope around her heaving breasts twice more, each time completing a figure of eight across her cleavage, finishing with sufficient length to form a leash. He checked that the rope was as tight as it could be. Her breasts were caught, surrounded, standing even prouder from her torso; two balls of flesh almost separated from her body. The coarse hemp puckered her skin and already the blood flow was becoming constricted, her flesh reddening. He slapped her swelling tits. And again – harder. Left right left right, each time her breasts coming to rest dead centre, their firmness amplified by the bonds that encased them. Her nipples started to flatten as her blood sought a place to escape. She cursed that she had always had extra sensitive breasts.

"You bastard," she hissed.

The more her breasts swelled, the greater their sensitivity. He flicked her nipples, still slightly rigid, her discomfort increasingly acute. He watched her expression for signs of pain. She understood his game and determined not to give him the pleasure of knowing he was hurting her. Through gritted teeth her face remained still, her feline eyes telling him nothing.

Britt was getting frustrated at the lack of an obvious result from abusing her breasts. The crowd sensed she was more resilient than he'd anticipated. "You think you're so strong Amazon? I WILL make you suffer". Britt smiled at her. "Time for a little journey". He tugged with the leash at her swollen breasts pulling her shoulders away from the log. With her arms held tight by the ropes, her tits had to take the strain. It felt as if her stupendous chest was being ripped from her body.

"Hey my beauty. Don't you want to come with me?" Her tormentor gave an extra fierce pull on the leash, Amphora's back arching forward.

"Uunngghh". The emotion slipped from her mouth.

"That's more like it," he said grinning. "It's hurting isn't it. Time for you to be whipped".

He signaled to the soldiers and two men went to stand at each end of the log. Her heart raced, her chest rising and falling. Soreness filled her breasts. They felt ready to burst.

"Untie her legs", Britt ordered. "And then…………" he motioned at the log.

With her legs free, the men started to cut away the front of the Y-shaped constructions holding the beam in place.

"Get ready to take the weight, bitch. If you fall I'll drag you up by your chest so you'd better stay upright if you don't want your breasts torn from your body. That'd make a real mess and we wouldn't want to spoil your perfect looks".

She gave him a withering stare.

"Let her have it".

The men made the final cut and the log fell forward from its retainers. Amphora took its full weight. The oak wanted to slip down her back but her wrists tied to the wood prevented it from sliding. Her arms and shoulders were forced backwards painfully, her biceps, triceps, and traps straining as she engaged the wood's weight. She steadied herself. The warrior hunched her back down and pulled the log to the back of her neck so as to spread the weight across the top of her body. Britt saw what she was doing.

"No you don't. I want this to count". He pulled sharply up on the leash making her stand upright to take the strain off her chest. Again the weight of the beam made her arch backwards but she had the measure of it and tensed her muscles in time to prevent the wood from slipping. "He's not as stupid as he looks", she thought. Now she knew he'd tied her in such a way that if she wanted to keep the worst of the pain from her breasts she would have to walk with her back straight. She realized his intention - to give the expectant audience a clearer view of her body. "One round to him," she acknowledged to herself. "But he won't win the contest".

Britt walked down the steps, Amphora following. She concentrated on keeping her footing down the stairs. The muscles in her legs demonstrated their power with every step she took - flexing and relaxing, flexing and relaxing, in the flex giving the appearance of trying to escape her skin but held back by her flesh. The rough bark scratched against her naked back.

They walked towards the whipping post, the crowd parting to create a path. Those further away pressed forward to get a closer look at the Amazon struggling with her burden. The mob got closer and closer, the path narrower and narrower. She gritted her teeth, clenching and unclenching her fists as she worked to maintain her strength. Bound and unable to swing, her breasts pointed directly ahead wobbling just a little. Although she kept up with Britt to keep the leash slack, she could see and feel her breasts continuing to swell. The humiliation of being led like an animal was beyond words. She hated the eyes of the people boring into her as they gorged on her delicious body.

Occasionally Britt recognized a voice in the crowd and he stopped so his friends could take a longer look at his trophy. She took these opportunities to gather her breath, doing her best to ignore the men and women who looked on enjoying her suffering. When the leers became too intense she shouted out "What are you looking at, Thoranian scum? Wish your women had bodies like mine?" The women shrieked in reply. "Whip the bitch. Make her scream".

When he was ready to move on Britt tugged at her as if she was his pet and their journey would continue. Arms reached out from the throng but he wouldn't let anyone touch her. "Hands off. This one's mine". Guards walked behind the man and his captive to keep the crowd at bay. They saw the Amazon's glutes and thighs harden and soften, harden and soften, harden and soften as she walked. Sweat ran off her back.

Amphora saw that there were now two thick posts on the approaching stage, builders putting the finishing touches to chains and pulleys on top of each pole. Spectators were gathering around the platform debating which way she would be tied. Some wanted to see her face – to witness her expression as each stroke landed. Others wanted a view of her back, preferring to watch the leather make contact with her bronzed skin. Many chose the sides, anxious to see how much she swayed with the force of each blow. Everyone had attended whippings before but this was something completely different. They never thought they'd have the chance to see an Amazon warrior punished before their very eyes.

By the time they reached the platform Amphora was beginning to tire in the heat. Her breasts were starting to numb and had turned a shade of red she'd never seen: deep and unnatural. The veins and blood vessels criss-crossing her tits were increasingly pronounced. They arrived at the stage and the Amazon was pulled up onto the wooden platform using steps at the side of the platform. Climbing the stairs was pure agony. Britt tugged at the leash knowing that, because of the steps, Amphora could not take the strain off her breasts by arching backwards. If she'd fallen he would have won this skirmish and she wasn't about to let that happen. He took his beautiful victim to the front of the stage and made her turn to look out at the place where she had been paraded for the last two hours. The crowd was huge, faces on all sides as far as she could see. It seemed that news of her whipping had traveled far.

"Tie her," Britt ordered.

She was pulled back to stand in between the two posts that were set four feet apart. They reattached the chain that had tied her booted ankles when she was brought from the dungeon. One man stood at each end of the log and a third cut through the ropes that secured her arms to the beam. The weight fell from her shoulders. But before she had a chance to shake the blood back into her arms soldiers grabbed her wrists and attached metal cuffs that hung off the end of long chains falling from the tops of the posts.

"Raise her," said Britt and the men pulled at the two chains, the pulleys grinding as the links passed through their mechanisms. Amphora could only watch helplessly as her arms were hauled upwards until her body formed a Y shape.

"Further," she heard. The cuffs tightened around her wrists as her arms were raised higher, chafing against her skin. When they had finished she was standing on tiptoes, just able to take the worst of the weight off her shoulders. The assembled mass was humming with pleasure, the anticipation of what was to follow heightening their mood.

Britt approached her, his knife drawn once more. He placed the blade in her cleavage, under the ropes that bound her chest. She looked while he cut away the bonds. The rope fell to the floor by her feet and he kicked it away. The feeling of relief was overwhelming. Immediately she felt her blood start to flow again although she sensed it would be some while before the soreness eased.

Britt took a white silk ribbon from his pocket and came to stand behind her. He gathered her hair, pulled it back off her face, and used the ribbon to create a ponytail. The severe arrangement highlighted her facial features; the slant of her eyes and the prominence of her cheekbones given new emphasis. Her face was unlined. She had the skin of a woman at the peak of her condition. Britt yanked on her hair pulling her head sharply backwards. He whispered something before thrusting his tongue into her ear. She shook her head making him release her hair. Those at the front of the stage marveled as her breasts swayed with their newfound freedom.

As he walked around to the front something caught his eye. He took a step back and saw her tattoo.

"What a pretty decoration," he said stroking her round shoulder, dimpled with her arms held high. He ran his hand up her arm, enjoying the flow of muscle from her large shoulder as it molded into her taut triceps and flattened bicep. "Such fine muscles", he whispered, his face close to her head. "A shame they're so useless to you now". She fought her bonds, the chains too tight to rattle.

Britt stood before her. "The whips," he said, maintaining eye contact with the chained Amazon. A man came from behind her, three whips in his hand. Britt took them and came to stand close to her. "Now then Amphora," he said. "Which one shall I use?"

She looked away.

He took one of the whips and placed its thick wooden handle against her cheek turning her face back towards the weapons. She could smell the leather that braided the handle. "Let me explain," he continued. "The whips you see here are all used for the punishment of common criminals. They will hurt you and mark your flesh but the welts will soon pass particularly on someone as…….as……….as healthy as you. The dungeon master uses different whips – much much nastier - but that's for later". She swallowed.

Britt studied the three whips, each of varying designs, letting his hands pass over the straps. One had a single long thin round strand of leather, one a short braided switch, and the other five flat leather straps. He ran his fingers along the length of each weapon. "I think I'll use this one," he said, almost nonchalantly. He passed the two discarded whips to one of the men and motioned for everyone to leave the stage. He had chosen the bullwhip.

"Good choice," said someone in the crowd.

"Why", asked another standing close by.

"That whip's interwoven with tiny shards of metal", came the reply. "It will cut her but the wounds will only be superficial".

"What's so clever about that?"

"The dungeon master likes to receive his victims unmarked. Britt won't risk the ogre's wrath by scarring the woman. He's chosen a whip that will massively hurt her but not mark her permanently".

He held out the bullwhip in front of her letting the leather dangle, the implied threat speaking for itself. He flicked his wrist and the whip cracked the air. The very sound of it bought silence to the crowd. Amphora looked up at her right wrist, then her left. There was no escape.

"Where's Sempha?" he asked.

Nothing.

He cracked the whip again.

"I said – where's Sempha?"

The Amazon looked away again, her breathing heavier, her chest rising and falling, her stomach sucked in. Amphora's shoulders took most of her weight and she felt them beginning to ache. The muscles in her thighs flexed and hardened as she balanced on her tiptoes.

Britt was in a conundrum. He was honoured at having been given the opportunity to whip this most important prisoner. And he was looking forward to exacting revenge on her for the loss of his brother. One half of him wanted her to hold out against him; the longer the whipping the greater the pleasure for him. But he suspected that she'd be unlikely to reveal much information to him. A woman as fit as her would be able to endure a lot of pain. His other half knew that greater reward lay in making her talk even if it meant foregoing the whipping. He decided on a new tactic.

The soldier coiled the whip in his hand and approached the tied Amazon. He held the weapon in front of her letting her see its power close-up. He let the strap fall free and placed the long black strand between her heaving breasts. He pulled the whip across her chest allowing the leather to caress her nipples, their sensitivity still acute. She watched helplessly while he moved the cord backwards and forwards across her reddened breasts. They both noticed that her brown nipples had become prominent and hard once again.

He placed one hand half way up the strap as if to make a miniature whip and swung the free end in a circle in front of her spread body. The sun was beating down on her back. She sweated from every pore. Suddenly he changed the angle of his hand and the whip landed across her belly; a gentle slap of leather meeting stretched skin. She flinched. He played with her, the end of the whip smacking against her abdomen, her upper thighs, her waist, and her breasts. Those nearest to the stage heard a quiet sound of leather on flesh. Although this was symbolic rather than effective, he saw her nostrils flare as the whip teased her abused chest.

"Let me tell you some facts Amphora," he said. "Listen hard". He continued to torment her as he spoke. "After I have finished with you the king has ordered that you be handed over to the dungeon master for questioning. Make no mistake - that man is barbaric. Unfortunately for you, you are just his type – his dream woman. He will do things to your body the like of which you cannot conceive. Trust me. I've seen the result of his work. People, if you can call them people after he's done his worst, left unrecognizable. He will break you, literally and metaphorically". She gulped involuntarily.

"It's simple. You have a choice. Tell me where we can find Sempha and you'll be taken down and spared this whipping today and, more importantly for you, the appalling consequences of being left in the company of that madman day and night until you talk. What's it to be?"

"You don't scare me with your words", she replied. Her tongue was so dry she could hardly speak.

"As you wish Amazon. Pride comes before a fall. Didn't anyone teach you that?" The whip glanced off her muscled stomach, the stroke more painful this time.

She clenched and unclenched her fists pulling against the chains that bound her, the view of her muscles contorting as she struggled exciting all those who watched. Her breasts had almost returned to their natural colour. She represented the perfect woman to all who saw her.

He walked behind the warrior and grabbed her hair, pulling it around in front of her so that the ponytail hung down between her breasts. She looked up to the sky as if seeking help. None was forthcoming. She was at his mercy.

He studied her muscled back, not for the first time admiring her V-shaped torso and long shapely legs. Her buttocks and thighs tensed as she hung, rock hard and inviting. He stroked her tattoo again. Her back was open before him like a blank canvas of flawless skin on which he could draw any pattern he desired.

Britt motioned to the men in charge of the chains. They pulled down on the links and she was raised off her feet, the chain that held her ankles brushing against the wooden floor. She looked down at her body then up again at the sky, seeing vultures circling. Lines of sweat ran down her arms and onto her torso, down her back and the sides of her powerful thighs.

She hung like a bird suspended in midair. By any measure an awesome sight. The first Amazon in Thoranian captivity was about to be publicly whipped, naked but for her tiny panties and leather thigh boots.

Amphora tensed her muscles, her heart racing.

Britt raised his arm.

For the briefest moment she heard a whistling sound and then a sharp crack. The whip landed full square across her back. The pain took her breath away. Her eyes widened in surprise. It was like nothing she had ever felt. Sensations of intense heat and cutting followed by stinging and spreading a second later. The force of the lash was great enough to drive her body forward.

She swung back just as the next blow landed, the leather scoring another line underneath the first. She fought to get her breath. A third, harder than the other two, crashing into her tattooed shoulder and upper back. Her body jerked in the chains. The whistling sound again and a fourth strike, this time the bullwhip reaching around her body, the tip smacking across her unprotected belly. Five, six, seven, all aimed at her lower back, the whip so long that it circled around her waist like some hideous belt. The eighth was the worst, full of anger as the leather came around her front and landed directly on her nipple. She cried out in pain. The crowd cheered. "He's hurting her now," one guard said to another.

The ninth was the same – the tenth too. Britt had found his mark and again and again the burning of the whip begun at the middle of her back and climaxed on her unprotected breasts. She threw her head backwards and forwards, pulling her legs up as if for protection only for the wind to be knocked out of her as further strikes tormented her muscled torso. The brute varied his strokes to cover the whole of her back.

Through the haze of pain she heard "Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-one. Twenty-two," the noise from the audience getting louder the more anguished her cries became. "Twenty-five". Then it stopped.

Pain. Everywhere sharp fierce pain.

Britt came to face her, his breathing heavy, the veins and sinews in his forearm standing proud. He had already seen her back, vicious red welts criss-crossing her skin with blood oozing from a series of tiny cuts. The extent of the marks across her upper thighs, belly, and breasts surprised him. He saw that some strokes had landed directly on her nipples.

"Now then my beauty", he said between breaths. "Do you want me to continue or would you prefer to tell me where we can find your precious Sempha?"

She hadn't realized that she'd been gritting her teeth, her jaw aching from the exertion. It felt as if scalding water had been applied to her back, the pain not limited to the contact points. Her belly and thighs were stinging too, but it was her breasts that caused her the greatest agony. They too had suffered tiny, almost imperceptible, cuts. It felt as if sharp knives had been drawn across her chest. The sweat continued to pour from her racked body – her hair now matted as it hung down her front. Her thirst was more acute than ever.

"You call that a whipping?" She forced out the words, desperate to humiliate the brute. "I thought you were tickling me".

He squinted, barely containing his rage. He knew she wouldn't talk. If she had taken twenty-five of the hardest lashes he could deliver, fifty would probably make her faint but she would be unlikely to relent. The best he could do was prove to the spectators that he had hurt her. That way, he would at least be seen to have won the contest.

Britt took a small bottle from his jerkin and removed the stopper. He walked behind her and applied some of the liquid to a cloth. "Remember me bitch" she heard him say just before he dabbed the moist rag against her wounds.

She screamed, the sound piercing. He continued the work and she screamed again, wrenching against the chains, her body thrashing from side to side in a futile attempt to shake off the agony.

He came to face her, her writhing so fierce that drops of sweat were being thrown off her body into his face. "And now those luscious breasts of yours".

"AAAARRRGGHHH". More of the lemon, vinegar, and salt mixture. "NOOOOO. NOOOO". Yet more. "EEEEAAARRRRGGGHHH".

He walked off the platform leaving the Amazon warrior hanging like a captured animal. No one in the crowd moved. They watched as she dealt with the horror of what she had endured. Her face was contorted with pain, her chest rising and falling as she somehow sought to dissipate the hurt. Those at her back saw a mass of red and crimson: cuts, welts, and raging sores. Even her firm buttocks showed evidence of the ordeal she had undergone. And those at the front saw her hard flesh alive with the after shocks of the leather.

At the bottom of the steps Britt spoke with a group of six men, aiming his request at one who stood out as the leader. They nodded their heads and smiled. "Sounds too good to be true," said Flamt when Britt was out of earshot. The other five laughed. An army Major standing nearby heard the instructions that Britt had issued. He walked up to the group and addressed them, looking at Flamt while he spoke. "Make no deviations from Britt's instructions. We don't want to take any risks with this prisoner. She's strong and resourceful and I don't trust her an inch". "Certainly Major," replied Flamt. "We shall carry out Britt's instructions to the letter". The others nodded in agreement, their faces serious. The Major left and Flamt turned back to the group. He looked at Grax, his cousin, and winked. They all grinned.

For an hour the sun cooked the Amazon's back under its coating of vinegar. She imagined that her arms were separating from her shoulders, that her skin was about to peel off her body, that her breasts would never recover from their torture. Amphora thought there could be nothing worse than this.

Eventually Flamt and his group took her down. They removed the ribbon that held her hair and went to tie her hands. She made it difficult for them, resisting as they bound her. But having hung for so long, and with her ankles still shackled making running impossible, and with there being six against one, they succeeded in their efforts to tie her. With her hands secured behind her back, and a man gripping each arm, they led away the proud irresistible beauty.

***

While Amphora was being taken from the platform, three meetings were being held simultaneously in different places.

Tevo was sitting with Admiral Costall planning the route to Lumana. "We'll take the Lynx," the Admiral was saying. "It's fast and maneuverable and can carry up to forty men with their equipment. The ship's designed to be rowed if we encounter light winds". Tevo was always slightly rankled by Costall's accent. For a Thoranian, the Admiral was very refined. He did not participate in the sport of interrogating prisoners. But if Nemo found the gold the navy man knew that he would be given a share of the spoils. His appetite had been whetted for this adventure.

"Seems a good choice," said Tevo. "How long do you think it'll take us to reach Lumana?"

"With fair weather, probably two days and two nights," replied Costall.

"Fine," said Tevo. "Assemble your crew. I want volunteers only, just like the thirty men that I shall be bringing. Can we sail at first light tomorrow?"

"Yes," said the Costall. "Dawn it is". The Admiral stood up to leave. "I have a question for you Tevo. How do you know where to look for Sempha?"

"We don't know precisely where she'll be. But there's a hilly region in Lumana, close to where we'll land, that's mostly covered with forest. It's riddled with caves so we guess she'll hide somewhere around there. We already have scouts positioned throughout that area; we can only hope to get lucky".

Costall reached the door.

"One more thing Admiral," said Tevo. "The king's eldest son, Prince Haalet, has volunteered for this mission. Do you think I should take him? He's never been on anything as dangerous as this and I'd hate to be held responsible if something happened to him".

"Yes," said Costall. "You should take him. The experience would be good for him. The king doesn't need to know. Nor does anyone else. Let it be our secret".

"Thanks for your advice," said the Captain. "I'll allow him to come on the proviso he tells no one where he's going. We'll board Haalet before the other soldiers. Perhaps he can stay in your cabin during the crossing so none will see him until we arrive at Lumana".

"Of course," said the Admiral, and left the room. He had much to do before sunrise.

***

In a tent deep inside Lumana, Sempha was with her team of closest advisors drawing up two sets of plans: the defence of her kingdom and the rescue of Amphora. Glaina was part of the team, both these causes dear to her heart.

"Nemo will come for you Sempha sending a force overland," Tolana, head of the army, was saying. "I guess the timing depends on how long Amphora can hold out". Tolana turned to Glaina. "Sorry to seem so cold and matter-of-fact about your sister's fate, Glaina, but I must speak plainly if we are to construct the best possible plans".

"I understand," Glaina replied. "Amphora would want the same".

"They won't mount a full scale invasion, " Tolana continued. "It'll be smaller - more focused. Something formulated after Amphora's been broken; when they think they know roughly where to look. Sempha, you and Glaina must leave tonight and take refuge in a place of your choosing. Don't tell anyone where you're going. It's best that way. After fourteen days meet me at the place marked with a cross on this map". She handed Sempha a scroll.

"When will you be leaving for Thorania?" asked Glaina. "I wish I could come with you".

"I know you do," replied Cercia, the leader of the rescue team. "But your place is by Sempha's side, now more than ever".

***

In an antechamber off the throne room, Nemo was sitting opposite a man whose name he did not know - no one knew it - and of whom he was afraid although the man was one of his subjects.

"When will she be delivered to me?" the man asked.

"Very soon," replied the king.

"Give me one more day. A few pieces of equipment require some last minute adjustments. I have seen the woman's strength and I want to be sure everything is working perfectly. What are my precise instructions?"

"Simple," the king fiddled with his dagger. "She knows where Sempha will hide. That's what I need to know".

Silence.

"And then?" the man enquired.

"Then we'll go after the Princess," Nemo answered, deciding there was no need for the dungeon master to know of the expedition due to leave the next day. "And once she's been captured, she'll also be bought to you so that you can extract from her the location of the treasure".

"Are there any boundaries with the Amazon that's here?"

"Boundaries?" the king's brow furrowed.

"Had you plans to use Amphora for anything after I've got the information you require?"

"No. What's left of her will be thrown to the troops as their reward for bringing me Sempha. The Princess will be my personal slave. Whatever it is you have planned for Amphora, do it. I don't care. Just get me that information".

The dungeon master left.

Nemo sipped his wine, his hand shaking. What was it about that man that created such fear in all those he encountered?

***

While the king was finishing his drink, the man closed and locked the door to his own private paradise deep in the bowels of the castle. Thankfully he had few visitors. He disliked people. "Where to start?" he looked around the room, a number of tasks needing attention. "I think I'll start with the basics". He walked over to a cabinet and opened one of the draws. He took out a brown leather pouch, rolled up and held closed by a cord. He undid the knot and the leather fell open. The torches that lit his dungeon were reflected back at him from a number of differently shaped scalpels, pliers, and blades revealed within the pouch.

He sat at a table, some polish in one hand, a rag in the other. He liked things to be spotlessly clean. "This one", he said to himself, selecting a hook shaped piece. "Where on that hard body of hers shall I apply this first?" He rubbed, holding the blade up to the light to check for stains he might have missed. "My dream come true. A real live Amazon strapped into the device, mine to torture at will". He whistled while he polished, his crooked teeth and thin cruel lips making a surprisingly tuneful combination. His head filled with visions of the muscled beauty struggling while he worked on her.

To be continued…….

* * *

The following totally fictitious writings of M Coolham are intended for the sole readership of those of LEGAL AGE. The ADULT ONLY material contained within is also for personal use only where local standards permit scenes of violence, torture and sex. Please do not read further if any of these subjects offend, or if you are not of legal age.

This is a work of fiction. The author does not condone violence of any sort.

The following is under Copyright and is for your sole enjoyment. Your cooperation in not using the material in any other application without the express permission of the author is requested. Thank you.

INTERROGATION OF AN AMAZON

CHAPTER FOUR

Delivered.

Britt had been offered the chance to whip Amphora providing he agreed not to mark her permanently and to ensure that she was taken to the healers once he had finished with her. He knew that the crowd sensed the contest had been a draw at best – possibly even a psychological victory for Amphora. Having dismounted the platform he did not want to wait around while she hung in her chains, people looking and pointing his way. Britt had shared many guard duties with Flamt and, believing him to be reliable, had asked his fellow soldier to bring the prisoner to the healers.

The door to the inner castle was close to the back of the platform. Although the crowd gathered round and pressed in for a chance to touch the Amazon's body, the small group was soon inside the building. The cool of the interior soothed the warrior's body, kinder to her damaged skin than the fire of the late afternoon sun.

Daylight faded as they walked towards the central section of the fortress, the way lit with torches. A smell of damp permeated the air. The woman's short ankle chains dictated the speed at which they could travel. They clattered against the stone floor, the sound echoing in the dingy corridor.

Flamt walked ahead of the group, Amphora behind him, a man holding each of her arms, and Glax bought up the rear with the other two men, the three of them entranced by her jiggling buttocks and firm thighs, occasionally glimpsing the sides of her swaying breasts. With each step the tops of her boots flopped against her thighs. They took it in turns to hold her arms. Each wanted a feel of the solid flesh that covered hard muscle underneath her smooth skin. The coating of sweat on her toned body heightened the experience.

They turned right and entered a long passage. Suddenly Flamt turned and stopped, signaling for the others to do the same. He walked up to the Amazon and looked her up and down. She glared at him.

"You really are remarkable," said Flamt, his eyes fixed on her breasts. "What do you say we have a little fun?!"

"But what about Britt's instructions?" said one of the men.

"And the Major too," said another.

"A moment can't hurt," said Flamt. "Hold her Glax".

Before she could react Glax was right behind her, locking his arms behind hers pulling her elbows together. Being her height, his face was in her hair, the scent sweet despite the sweat. His tunic rubbed against the woman's raw back making her wince. Glax drew his arms together forcing her shoulders back, her breasts thrusting forwards. Held tight, her abdominal muscles formed a solid ridge down the centre of her torso. She shook her head fighting to get free, her weighty breasts bouncing uncontrollably, her hair flying in front of her face. Glax wrestled with her, turning her violently so that he could lean his back against one of the walls while he concentrated on strengthening his hold.

"Steady," said Flamt. "No one needs to get hurt here. I just want a feel of Amazon flesh".

He stretched out his arm to fondle her breast. With lightening speed she drove Glax hard against the wall, blasting her head back against his nose. Simultaneously, using Glax's arms as support, she raised her chained feet and drove the heels of her boots into Flamt's crotch. Her aggressor was flung against the other wall. He fell to the floor, groaning, his hands covering his balls.

Blood covered Glax's face. He freed her, instinctively reaching for his damaged nose. Flamt lay writhing on the floor. The Amazon could not go far with her ankles in chains and she was soon caught by the other four men who pinned her against the wall, one with his arm at her throat, one pressing each of her shoulders to the stone, the other driving his fist into her abdomen. The nauseating sound of fist against muscle mixed with the groans of the injured men. She fought but they restrained her, her breathing heavy from anger and the exertion.

The cousins gathered themselves and came to stand in front of the warrior, nursing their wounds. Flamt noticed a door a short way down the corridor. "In there," he pointed with his head. "Get her in there".

Glax went ahead and opened the door onto a dark windowless room. The four soldiers wrestled the struggling woman through the door and held her, one man standing behind her his arm still around her throat. He pulled back her head arching her spine making her stomach muscles pronounced and harder than ever. Flamt grabbed a torch from one of the corridor's wall brackets and entered, closing the door. The light from the flame bought the room to life and they could see it was a storage area, pewter tankards and other iron kitchen equipment stacked on shelves that lined three of the walls from floor to ceiling. A large oak table stood against the fourth wall. Glax took the torch from Flamt and placed it in a metal holder. The flames danced, glancing off the bowls and saucepans in confused fashion.

Flamt approached the trapped Amazon, taking care to come at her from the side anxious to avoid a repeat performance. With her hands tied behind her and her body arching backwards, her muscled bronze torso presented an open target. He smashed his fist into her belly. The sound of the impact was sickening. She was ready for him, her muscles tensed, so the blow hurt his hand more than her stomach.

"I only wanted a little feel you bitch," he spat. "If it's a fight you want, it's a fight you've got. You chose the wrong man to reject".

"Six onto one," hissed Amphora. "Is that the only way Thoranian men can get a woman?" She was breathing deeply, her chest heaving, sweating in the airless chamber.

Another blow to her abdomen. And another. She struggled against being held, Flamt's punches glancing ineffectually off her twisting body. The man knew he wasn't hurting her.

"Bring over the table," he motioned to Glax.

The men pulled their trophy out of the way slamming her chest against the door. They held her there, her breasts, hip bones, and thighs rubbing against the rough wood, the tiny cuts to the front of her body irritated by the splintering wood. Glax dragged the table to the centre of the room, its wooden legs shuddering against the stone. The table was five foot long, three foot wide, and sturdy in build.

"Put her on the table," said Flamt. "Face up".

Knowing what was coming she made a supreme but futile effort to escape, trying to floor the man who was holding her from behind. But they had anticipated her move and the six men grabbed her, one on each leg, two on each arm, swung her round and threw their victim onto the table. She landed hard on her bound arms, her shoulders and upper back making contact with the wood, her reactions saving her head from smashing against the surface. She forced the acute pain from her mind, concentrating on how she could avoid what they were about to do to her.

Amphora's head was at one end of the table, her bent knees at the other, her feet dangling off the edge. The Amazon went to raise herself but they overpowered her before she could move. Glax pressed against her cheek holding her face sideways to the table. One man leaned on each of her shoulders. Two held her muscular legs. Flamt watched while she thrashed against the gang, her body twisting, her breasts bouncing, her muscles flexed and hard. The effort made her grunt.

"Let's tie her," said Flamt, his voice raised against the sound of her body banging against the wood.

He found a coil of rope, returned to the table, and cut four long pieces of cord. He threw three across her chest and one over her waist. The rope was clammy. "All the better for grip," he thought and let the ropes fall either side of the table. "Keep her down," he said. "This won't take a second".

He crawled under the table and tied the ends of the ropes together, the dampness of the hemp making it easier to knot. Flamt knew how to use rope; not for the first time he was grateful for his stint in the navy. He could feel her struggling against being bound and enjoyed the sensation of pulling the ropes tight, her movement becoming more restricted as the ropes pulled her harder and harder against the tabletop.

Flamt stood up to admire his handiwork; he smiled. The Amazon's tapered waist was secured flat to the table. A chaos of rope criss-crossed her chest pulling down on her gorgeous breasts. Her tits fought to exit from the tangle of ropes that encased her. Her right nipple was laid flat under the coarse hemp, her left standing proud, rope passing either side directly on her aureole. He could see that the damp cord was biting into her hard bronzed torso.

Amphora was tied tight to the table, her hands still secured behind her back. The soldiers that had been holding her upper body released their victim but the men gripping her legs continued to wrestle with the warrior. The downward pressure on the captive's breasts resurrected the agony of being dragged by her chest, the log across her shoulders.

"Let me go you BASTARDS," she yelled.

"We're just having a bit of fun," said Flamt. "We'll soon be on our way. Let's get those ankle chains off you".

While the men held her legs, Flamt unlocked the ankle cuffs and the chain clattered against the stone floor. The soldier stood at the end of the table looking down at the trapped woman. Glax came to join him. She glared back at them, both in awe at the incredible shape of her abdominal muscles, accentuated with her head raised off the table.

"S-p-r-e-a-d her," Flamt said deliberately, leering at the struggling beauty. He'd forgotten about the pain in his groin.

The soldiers pulled her legs apart. She bucked and squirmed but she was held fast, the heavy table proving to be the perfect anchor. She resisted being spread, the men working hard to hold her, one man on each thigh and one on each calf. Two on each leg was too many for her and she was powerless to prevent them from spreading her wide.

"Who's going first?" asked Glax. With testosterone pumping, and the stunning woman tied before them like an answer to their prayers, they all volunteered.

"NOOOOO," Amphora screamed out.

"Too bad miss hard-body," said Flamt, coming to stand in-between her legs. "You should have thought of that when you rejected my advances. I was only trying to be friendly". He smirked, enjoying her fear. "I think you're rather over-dressed".

He reached down, grabbed the front of her black cotton panties, and ripped them off, the skimpy material coming away easily. He stood taking in her beauty, her panties moist in his hand. Her line of dark hair, so perfectly feminine, drew his gaze down to her secret lips – a pink gate guarding heaven. She looked unbelievable. So inviting. So utterly irresistible.

Flamt put her panties to his nose and inhaled deeply. "Mmmmm", he smiled. "You smell of honey. Anyone want a sniff?"

The men passed them round, each making some lurid comment, each intoxicated by her perfume.

"You're PATHETIC", she yelled.

Flamt drove his fist into her inner thigh. Smack. Knuckle against the flat of her muscled leg.

"We need to shut her up," said Glax. "Someone might hear her squeal".

"You're right," said Flamt. Looking around he saw some rope on one of the shelves. "Pass me that cord".

Glax obliged and the two men walked around to her head, Flamt taking a rag from his pocket. They both recoiled at the stench. "Have you been gutting fish again?" asked Glax.

"Pass me her panties", said Flamt and a man threw them over. "Want a taste my beauty?"

Glax held her head between his hands like a vice; her eyes forced to look at the ceiling. She opened her mouth to scream but Flamt was ready, thrusting her panties deep into her mouth, the rag following, its taste making her want to vomit. "AAAaaammmpphhh". Flamt laid the rope across her mouth and pulled down hard either side of her head, his hands against the table. "mmmmpphhhh" was all they could hear. Her eyes and forehead creased as her tongue fought to extricate the gag, futile now that the rope was in place. She couldn't move her head. The rope pulled at her cheeks, forcing the cloths deeper into her mouth. "aahhmmmpphhh". Amphora's face reddened, the veins in her neck throbbing.

"Hold the rope".

Glax moved his hands from her head and took over holding the rope. Flamt tied the ends together underneath the table, mirroring the ropes that held her chest and stomach. The Amazon's upper body was tied tight. Only her legs were free.

Amphora breathed heavily. Her breasts rose and fell, her chest unable to complete its full cycle because of the bonds. She felt the damp rope biting into the top of her breasts as her ribcage expanded and contracted. Her raw skin rubbed against the rough table, her hands uncomfortable in the small of her back. The men held her legs wide apart making her pelvis ache, partly from the sheer angle at which they held her, and partly because she had fought them so hard. She kept trying to draw her legs together, her thigh muscles straining, but it was to no avail. For her, the worst agony was the exposure; that these filthy men could see her most private place; that she was unable to cover herself. The thought of being violated by these thugs was too terrible to contemplate .

Flamt and Glax came round to stand between her legs again.

"You really are truly wonderful," said Glax. "I shall remember this moment always. I expect this to be the best fuck I'll ever have.

"mmmggghhhh".

"Speak up Amphora," said Flamt. "We didn't hear you". The men laughed.

They drew straws for the honours, Flamt winning the game.

"Fix," said Glax, grinning from ear to ear.

"I like mine naked", said Flamt. "Completely naked. I want her legs bare".

"As you wish," said Glax, and went to remove her right boot. She kicked like a wounded horse but he managed to take it off, throwing it to the floor. "Now the other one," said Glax walking round by her head to the other side of the table. He paused a moment to look down at her face, her expression a combination of anger and fear.

The ropes continued to do their job. She was held and at their mercy.

Continuing down the table towards her left leg, he couldn't resist taking a moment to study her squeezed breasts. He bent down and pulled at the rope running across the middle of her tits; tugging hard there was just enough give in the binding to take the pressure of her breast. Holding the rope free of her chest for a moment, he then released it, the cord snapping back against her skin, the soreness in her flesh amplifying the pain. Standing up, he looked at her face. "You're going to get what you deserve. No one bloodies my nose and gets away with it". He bent down and bit her exposed left nipple; so hard that his teeth almost met. To her it felt as if he was going to bite it off. "eeeaaaaghhhhh". The warrior closed her eyes, wincing, the sinews in her neck protruding wildly as she fought against her cruel bondage.

Glax went to pull off her left boot. The Amazon kicked out with all the energy she could muster. Glax and the two men holding her leg were flung against the shelving, pots and kettles falling to the ground, the noise in the enclosed space deafening, the sound escaping into the corridor.

"Grab her," hissed Glax, twice humiliated. The men got hold of her leg again and forced it wide. Wider than before. The soldiers holding her other leg pulled just a little bit further. "mmmmrrrpphhh". They could see her nostrils opening and closing vigorously as she fought to take in oxygen.

Glax removed her other boot and threw it down with the other.

"She's ready cousin," said Glax. "She's all yours!"

Flamt undid his belt. With her head tied to the table she could only look upwards. But she could sense what was happening. Even restrained this way she could see the motion of his arms.

The brute was naked from the waist down, his member rock hard and standing proud, already dripping with anticipation. He went to stand in-between her spread legs, savouring the moment, drinking in her fear. Tied tight as she was, and held wide apart by the men, she was still able to move her torso a little. He would enjoy the suggestion of a fight. He studied her legs, the flat of her muscular bronzed inner thighs, the muscles flexing and unflexing as she fought; a big turn-on for him. He stroked the inside of her legs and then slapped them as if she was his pet.

He came right up to her and placed his hands on the table either side of her waist.

"Are you ready for a real man, Amazon bitch?" he grinned.

The door flung open and the Major stormed into the room.

"WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?" he yelled. "What did I tell you?"

Instantly Flamt went limp. "It's just a bit of fun sir. She attacked me. And Glax. Look at his nose".

"I warned you about her," replied the Major. "I told you she's dangerous. But there's no excuse for this. You know the rules with this one. You get your chance, but AFTER the dungeon master. Untie her".

The soldiers released her taking care to tie a leash around her neck, and to reapply the ankle chains, before they freed her from the table. They left the gag in place. None of the gang looked her in the eye but the Major saw her expression; one moment a smirk, the next deep anger.

"I'll walk with you to the healers," said the Major. "Don't worry. You'll get your chance with her. And next time there'll be no interruptions".

* * *

Alexa, the principle healer, was making final preparations for Amphora's arrival. The healers had been expecting her having received a briefing from Nemo that morning.

"The woman will be delivered to you late this afternoon," he had said. "She has vital information that we need but she refuses to speak. Last night she was beaten and today she will have been paraded and whipped. Despite these ordeals I doubt she'll open up to us. She's exceptionally strong; I think that only a visit to the dungeon master will make her talk".

"How badly will she be hurt when she's brought here?" Alexa had asked.

"Superficial wounds only," the king had said. "The men who punished her had strict instructions not to scar her. The thug in the bowels of the castle likes to receive his victims unmarked".

"I'm sure we can have her ready within three days," said Alexa.

* * *

For the next thirty-six hours the healers worked on the Amazon with ointments and lotions. They fed her well and allowed her to sleep, puzzled at the names Sempha and Glaina that she frequently called. Much of the time Amphora was tied to a large iron bed, spread-eagled and face down because the skin on her back required particular attention. They applied balm to the cuts on the warrior's muscled back, shoulders, thighs, and stomach. They had a gentler cream for her breasts. While stroking her bronzed skin the healers often lingered, their fingers taking in the structure of her muscles, the hardness of her young flesh, the firmness of her generous breasts. Amphora was powerless to prevent the abuse; in addition to being under heavy guard she was bound at all times. Even in the relative sanctuary of the bathroom, manacles had been driven into the walls to secure the prisoner.

The healers bathed their patient in steaming water scented with sandalwood and lavender. With her limbs chained to anchor points at the corners of the tub, they rubbed and massaged Amphora's naked taut body, the precious herbs creating lather on the water's surface that hid their wandering hands. She could feel as they prodded and poked in every orifice, exploring her most private places. The warrior took no pleasure from their touch but chose to save her strength for what she knew lay ahead. Her loyalty to Sempha was uppermost in her mind. Whatever they had planned for her, she resolved to remain silent at all costs.

Although obviously in pain and somewhat weakened when she arrived, the resources and spirit of the Amazon had surprised the physicians. Her remarkable fitness, together with the magic of the potions, had worked wonders and on the third day their patient was ready. Her skin was once again flawless, the whips marks and bruises having completely disappeared.

"It's time to prepare her," said Alexa to the other healers. "You know what to do".

Amphora was tied naked to the bed, face up, her arms and legs spread wide, her wrists and ankles secured with rope to the bedposts, her raven-black hair splayed out above her head. Alexa fed her and allowed her to drink plenty of water. The healer never tired of watching her patient's body; the muscles tensing and flexing with every movement. She was in awe at the Amazon's undaunted pride. Alexa studied the captive's natural beauty with special poignancy knowing that within a few hours the victim was to be delivered. The physician doubted she'd ever see Amphora again. And if she did, she knew it was unlikely the stunning warrior would still look as she did now.

Within half an hour the Amazon was sleeping deeply. The drug that laced the water she had just drunk was very effective.

* * *

While the healers had been attending to Amphora, the Lynx had sailed to Lumana. During the journey the soldiers had busied themselves sharpening their swords and checking their equipment. They had interacted with the crew, swapping news and information about the mission. Three of the soldiers had been on the team that had captured Amphora. For all the rest, and the sailors too, this was their first trip to Lumana.

Haalet had been brought from the Admirals' cabin and introduced, the men expressing surprise that the Prince had chosen to volunteer. The evening before arriving at their destination Tevo and Costall had addressed the men.

"For most of you this will be your first encounter with the Amazons of Lumana," Tevo had said. "Do not be deceived by their beauty. These women are unlike any you will have met before. They fight as well as any man and are equally strong. Believe it".

The soldiers had listened attentively, some taking the warnings to heart, others dismissing the words as those of a commander anxious to puncture any complacency. At dinner that evening, while Tevo and Costall dined in the Admiral's quarters, all the talk had been of capturing the Princess. "And how about some playthings for the journey home?" Jemius had said, one of those who had experienced Amazon combat firsthand. Everyone had laughed. They had talked long into the night, exchanging stories and opinions about the parade and whipping that they had witnessed a couple of days earlier.

They had arrived at Lumana just before dawn on the third day. The troops had disembarked and split up into six groups of five. They had fanned out across the area, each man hoping that the commanders had guessed correctly – that Sempha would be heading for this region and that his group would be the one to find her.

* * *

Sempha and Glaina had left for the hills to go underground. The Princess suspected there were scouts in the area; they had proceeded with extreme caution. By dawn of the third day they had reached the outskirts of the forested area.

"How much time do you think Tolana has to prepare the defences before the Thoranians attack?" Glaina had asked. Sempha had understood the real meaning behind the question.

"Glaina," the Princess had replied softly. "No one can know. Amphora will hold out as long as she can but we both know that the enemy is determined. They will do to her whatever it takes to obtain the information they seek".

Glaina had remained silent, tears in her eyes.

Sempha had touched the forearm of her bodyguard. "Cercia leaves tomorrow with the rescue party. We can only pray they reach your sister in time".

* * *

And as the wind had filled the sails of the Lynx, as the Princess had consoled her bodyguard, and as Amphora had slept, a man had stood looking at a selection of branding irons laid out on a table trying to decide which one would be most appropriate to use. The Minotaur's head was for the king's personal slaves, the simple cross was for the prisoners who toiled in the labour camps, and the cat was for the women who made up the soldiers' harem. There were irons of other designs each with its own significance.

Then there was the scythe, the least used of all the brands. This was his own design. He had bought it with him when he swore his allegiance to the Thoranians half a decade previously. The king's express permission was required for the scythe to be used. The man could not remember when it had last been fired up. It had been prepared a couple of years ago for the blonde with the pale blue eyes who had slipped through his fingers. But he hadn't had a chance to thrust it into the hot coals and use it on her before she had escaped.

The scythe was for a woman chosen to be his. Once marked, he would have her for life; to work upon, and experiment with, for as long as she lasted.

For the first time in years he had handled the scythe. Smiling, he had picked up a sanding tool and started preparing the appalling brand. "At last," he had thought. "She's strong. She'll last for weeks".

* * *

Drifting back to consciousness Amphora heard voices. "She's waking up. Call the guards".

Fifteen minutes later the Amazon was fully awake. She opened her eyes and saw six heavily armoured men standing by the bed. The healers were nowhere to be seen. A dull sensation of cold steel aggravated her lower back. Trying to get comfortable she realized she'd been tied differently. Her hands were chained together behind her back and shackles were once again attached to her ankles. Looking down at her body she was surprised to see she was no longer naked. She was wearing a white sleeveless cotton dress that came down to her mid-thighs. The material was gathered at her waist by a gold cord. The dress was low cut, a V-shaped design showing off her cleavage. Her feet were bare. She felt what seemed to be a thong around her waist. The scent of rosemary, coupled with her instinct, told her that her hair had been washed.

The guards hauled the prisoner to her feet.

Now fully alert, Amphora noticed that the soldiers were staring at her. She was used to receiving attention, especially since entering the Thoranian castle. But there was something different in their gazes; almost as if they had witnessed a vision. "Perhaps they pity me," she wondered. She knew they had come to deliver her. "Of course they don't," her rationale kicked in. "Something's changed though".

Amphora stood in the midst of the group. There was silence.

"Time to go Amazon," said a tall soldier.

"Don't you think she should get one last look at her face?" said a shorter man. "If she ever gets out of there she won't be recognizable".

"Good idea," said the tall man, grinning. "Pass me your breastplate.

The shorter guard undid his shiny breastplate and passed it to the taller man. Two of the guards held the woman's arms while another grabbed a lump of her hair preventing her from moving her head. "Take a look beauty".

The soldier held up the breastplate in her line of vision. Amphora was visibly shocked. Her face had been lavishly made up as if she was going to a celebration. The healers had applied golden ointment on her upper eyelids to bring out the amber in her eyes, thin touches of black paint at the outer edges of her eyes to amplify their upward slant, a dusting of dark bronze powder to accentuate her cheekbones, and red paint to flesh out her full lips. Her hair had indeed been washed; it looked thick and lush. Even she, who had decorated herself for many special occasions in the past, was astonished at the results. She looked utterly ravishing.

"Like what you see?" The man gripping her hair yanked back her head.

The tall guard had noticed the Amazon's surprise. "Didn't they tell you?" he asked, smirking. "He likes his women……..perrrrfect". The gang laughed.

She felt a push from behind. "You're expected".

Making their way to the far end of the fortress Amphora's heart started to pound. Her mind was racing, trying to calculate how long it could possibly take for a rescue party to come. And even if they arrived, could they make it through the castle's defences? She tried to assemble a resistance tactic. But fear was numbing her thought process. Sempha's words rang in her ears. "Whatever happens, don't let the Thoranians take you alive. The men are evil beyond words. If they took you…………..and if you chose to remain silent they would torture you in hideous ways. Even a woman with a body as remarkable as yours would be sacrificed if it meant getting closer to the gold".

The men were gripping her muscular arms tightly. The heavy ankle chain had been adjusted so that it was shorter than before. The prisoner could do no more than shuffle, the cold flagstones unforgiving against her bare feet. Descending further into the bowels of the fort the air became thicker and hotter. The deeper they got the fewer people they passed; those they did staring at the bound woman in astonishment. They reached a locked wooden door and the tall guard pulled out a large rusty key. She could sense the soldiers were in trepidation. Amphora swallowed hard, her throat tightening, her breathing becoming constricted.

They passed through the opening and the soldier locked the door behind them. The corridor in front of them was narrow and dark, few torches alight. The shorter guard took one of the flames and walked ahead. The corridor turned to the left, then to the right, and ended at a flight of stairs. It was even darker below.

Once they reached the lowest level they saw a large door ahead of them, two distinctive hinges holding it to the frame. It was a dead end. Walking towards the final door she noticed a smaller door set into the wall on the left side. Damp humid air was making them all sweat. The place smelt of horror. Amphora fought against the chains that secured her hands, a futile gesture she realized.

They stopped in front of the smaller door and the tallest guard produced another key from his jerkin. He turned the lock and the door opened, the sound of its squeaking hinges echoing in the rarified atmosphere. The man bearing the torch entered first and Amphora was half pushed half pulled into the room after him. The door was closed behind her.

The room was tiny; no more than ten feet long and eight feet deep. The light from the single torch was sucked into its darkness, almost ineffectual against the gloom. Water dripped from the corners of the high ceiling. Three of the walls shone in the pale irregular light. The fourth wall, on one of the long sides of the room, seemed dry. Then she noticed that it wasn't stone, but thick black cloth. The chamber was empty but for a piece of dulled-metal in the shape of a 'T' that protruded from the floor in the centre of the room. The 'T' was four feet high and the horizontal top section was two feet wide, rounded, six inches in diameter. The top piece of the 'T' ran parallel to the curtain.

With seven of them in the room it was crowded. The men seemed in a hurry to complete their final task. Without speaking, they pulled her to the 'T' and placed her facing the curtain. The soldiers forced her arms behind the 'T' so that the middle of her back was against the top of the 'T'. They chained the centre of her handcuffs to a manacle half way up the vertical part of the 'T'. They released her ankles and retied them with rope, three feet apart, to metal rings set into the stone floor. Lastly they forced her elbows together, tied them with rope, and then secured that cord to the circular top section of the 'T', the metal cold against her flattened biceps and inner forearms. The men used the join of the 'T's upright and horizontal sections to bind her elbows, criss-crossing the hemp around the heart of the 'T'. Once the struggling prisoner was secured they stepped back to take one last look at the beautiful victim.

Tied this way, Amphora was immobile. The thickness of the horizontal top section of the 'T', compounded by the tying of her elbows, meant that her muscular shoulders were forced back making her breasts thrust forwards, her nipples clearly visible through the material of her dress. With her arms pulled back her triceps stood proud, her upper arms at right angles to her sinewy forearms. They could see her bare arms and cleavage glistening with sweat, her stunning face matt under the decoration. Her thick black hair swept down her back in sharp contrast to the white cotton, her locks shiny even in the dim light. The gold belt drew in her waist, so very tapered in opposition to her broad shoulders, amplifying the V-shape of her hard torso. Her legs, visible from mid-thighs downwards, displayed their spectacular muscles as she struggled against the ropes. She bloomed - in every way their absolute fantasy.

The guards were torn, wanting to leer a while longer yet anxious to escape the oppressive atmosphere of this terrible place. Opening the door to the corridor the tall man led out the troops. He took the few steps to the main door and passed a note under the wood. The short man with the torch left last. Just before parting he stepped back and stood before the bound Amazon. She was like a temptress, his for the taking. But he had to go. Coming to stand close, the woman struggling as best she could, he spat out three words: "Welcome to hell".

* * *

Amphora was tied like an offering to a revered spirit.

She was alone in the pitch black - alone in all senses of the word. Miles from help, surrounded by enemies, cruelly tied, and totally helpless. She looked around, frantically seeking a way out but she was blind in the absolute darkness of her prison. The Amazon fought against the ropes, her hair flying from side to side as she shook her head in an effort to sum up some imagined immortal strength that would free her. But they had secured her well. In the utter blackness should could see nothing – not even her heaving breasts.

She could feel, though, and all her senses were alert and focused.

And she could hear. She became aware of her breathing, so loud when there was nothing to distract her hearing. The ropes creaked as she wrestled with her bonds. The water continued to drip at regular intervals.

And she could smell. Such a strange mixture of scents. The sweetness of her hair mixed with the damp of the walls. More potent was her fear. She smelt it as if it was a carcass; rancid and unavoidable.

She gritted her teeth, clenched her fists, and fought once again. Her breasts swayed from side to side with the effort but her powerful body was held fast. She felt her nipples brushing against the inside of her dress.

* * *

The man bent down and picked up the piece of paper on which was written only one word: "Delivered".

* * *

In one swift movement, and without any warning, the curtain was pulled back. Light cascaded into the tiny room, Amphora screwing up her eyes against the brilliance.

Slowly she opened her eyes letting them get accustomed to the flood of light. She saw a massive well-lit room with scores of torches lining the walls. Various pieces of equipment stood in the chamber and chains, ropes, manacles, and hooks of all shapes and sizes hung down from beams running across the ceiling. Before she could take it all in four figures appeared in the space where the curtain hand been, silhouetted against the intense light, their shadows cast onto the floor around her.

As they approached the Amazon she renewed her struggle against the ropes, her heart rate quickening. Much to her surprise, one of them was a woman. They came closer and Amphora could begin to make out their faces. The female was thin, scrawny even, with lank brown hair, a pinched face, her dark eyes set close together. The men were of different heights and shapes; one was fat and bald, one was of medium build and had a mess of flesh where once his nose had been, and one was extremely tall and skinny with long un-kept hair. They all wore simple brown loose-fitting sleeveless jerkins and baggy trousers. The four people had one thing in common: they had the head of a Minotaur tattooed on their left shoulders.

The group split up and walked around the tied warrior inspecting her carefully. The fat man, shorter than her, ran his fingers across her cheek, Amphora turning her head to one side trying to avoid his clammy hand. "Smooth skin," she heard him say, his breathe foul. The woman stood behind the Amazon and reached inside the prisoner's dress, the aggressor's right hand clasping Amphora's left breast. The luscious breast was too large for the woman to grasp in one hand so she rotated her rough fingers around the warrior's tit squeezing the flesh and tugging at the nipple appreciating the weight and firmness of the breast. "Get your filthy hand off my body," Amphora hissed, the woman appearing not to hear and continuing with the clumsy massage. The tall man ran his hand through Amphora's hair as if his fingers were a comb, his long fingernails scratching her scalp. She shook her head in an effort to free herself from his hand.

They continued to study their trophy. None of them seemed especially fearsome to Amphora. She tried to guess which was the infamous dungeon master about which she had heard so many gruesome references. She felt a mild sense of relief; she had been expecting far worse. But her instincts told her to remain cautious.

The group eventually came to rest standing in a line behind her. She tried to turn her head to see them, suspicious of the silence that had enveloped the people, but she was too well tied and had to satisfy herself with the sound of their breathing, muted and calm.

Nothing and nobody moved for what seemed like an age. Amphora sweated in the heat, her heart slowing. Although tied and helpless, she felt less threatened now that she had seen the enemy. The water dripped, the people stood, she thought about her tactics. Which of the four was the weak link; perhaps the one she could befriend – implore for modest treatment - steal their keys, even, and escape from this dreadful place.

And then, as if by magic, the shadow of a huge man appeared in the entrance to the dungeon. His shadow covered her. He stood there, his hands behind his back, all six foot ten inches of him, his build muscular and powerful, his hair thick and curly hanging down to his shoulders. She knew immediately – this was HIM – his very presence the embodiment of evil.

He started to walk towards her. Her heart raced. She wrestled the bonds but they held her tight. He stood in front of her, his hands still behind his back. The brute towered over her six-foot frame. She could smell his unwashed body. He grinned revealing hideous crooked and broken yellow teeth behind cruel bloodless lips.

"So; this is the beautiful Amphora," his voice deep and husky. "They said you were something special. I can see that they were careful with their words. You are, indeed, astonishing".

She swallowed.

"I sense your fear," he said. "Tell me where to find Sempha and you will be spared the worst of my plans".

"You are mistaken," replied Amphora. "Your cheap words and stupid friends don't scare me. I will remain silent." She held eye contact with him, her amber eyes aglow in the torchlight.

The huge man grinned again.

"I'm so glad," he said.

Silence.

"I have a present for you," he whispered.

She sweated.

He raised one eyebrow and looked at his helpers.

"Do it," he barked.

Amphora heard the tall accomplice coming to stand immediately behind her. The helper reached across her shoulders and placed his hands on her dress, grasping both sides of the V-shape that exposed her cleavage.

"NOW".

The tall assistant ripped her dress apart, pulling it hard back off her shoulders and down to her elbows, the material splitting down the centre of her torso as far as her navel. Her breasts bounced vigorously as the cotton was forced across her chest and pulled violently down her back. The ruined material hung limp against her elbows, covering her forearms. The man went back to stand in line. Amphora's powerful shoulders, toned upper arms, luscious breasts, V-shaped torso, and muscled stomach were naked before her tormentor. Her breathing quickened – her chest rising and falling, her breasts quivering, her dark brown nipples hard and prominent. Her bronzed skin glistened in the dancing light. She was exposed, helpless, her taut firm body at his mercy.

The dungeon master withdrew his hands from behind his back. Then she saw it. Adrenalin surged through her body. She thrashed against her bonds, her wrists chaffing against the ropes, her ankles straining against the cuffs that held them, her torso straining to get free, her breasts swaying, her thick black hair flying as she manically shook her head, every muscle tensed and working. But it was no use; she was secured tight to the 'T' piece. She cried out "NOOO. NOOO," before checking herself from further exposing her sudden overwhelming fear.

In his right hand he held a branding iron, the scythe motif at the end red hot and smoking, acrid fumes and an unworldly sound of sizzling filling the room.

"You're mine now pretty Amphora," he said and took the final step towards her. "Where shall I start?"

To be continued

* * *

The following totally fictitious writings of M Coolham are intended for the sole readership of those of LEGAL AGE. The ADULT ONLY material contained within is also for personal use only where local standards permit scenes of violence, torture and sex. Please do not read further if any of these subjects offend, or if you are not of legal age.

This is a work of fiction. The author does not condone violence of any sort.

The following is under Copyright and is for your sole enjoyment. Your cooperation in not using the material in any other application without the express permission of the author is requested. Thank you.

Interrogation of an Amazon

CHAPTER FIVE

Introduced

She had never known such fear.

The dungeon master held the vicious brand up to her face. Amphora could feel the heat against her skin. She turned her head away but there was no escape. He was enjoying her terror.

"I could scar your face but that would seem a shame," he said. "Better to save the best till later. How about your stupendous breasts?" he moved the rod down towards her chest holding it an inch away from her cleavage. With his other hand he took hold of her right tit, letting the breast sit in his open palm. "Plenty of flesh here," he smirked. "Or how about its companion," and moved his hand across to her other breast again letting the weight of her exposed tit hang in his palm.

She fought to remain still; any false move and her skin might brush against the red-hot iron. The smell and sound of the hissing metal played havoc with her senses. The Amazon concentrated on her breathing, trying to slow her heaving chest.

"Or how about here," he continued, bringing the fearsome brand down to the centre of her belly. "Such a lovely strong stomach. I have a liking for muscular women and you're the best I've ever seen." His fingers ran across the solid mounds of muscle that formed her toned abdomen, on down to her navel, to finish at what remained of her dress. He fiddled with the gold belt and it fell to the floor. The man grasped the white cotton where it lay just below her belly button and gave a fierce tug. The last fragments of the dress were ripped in two, the material falling to her elbows. The force of the tug made her upper body shake, her breasts bouncing and wobbling.

The whole of the Amazon's toned body was exposed before him. He saw her powerful thighs and the tiny white panties in which she'd been presented. She saw him smile, the front of his trousers noticeably bulging.

"How thoughtful," he grinned. "My favourite colour. So perfect against the bronze of your skin".

"Is this the only way you get to see a woman?" she hissed. "Tied up and defenseless".

Her tormentor's eyes flashed against hers but he ignored the jibe.

"Here might be good," he said, taunting her, the red-hot scythe hovering less than an inch from the inside of her left thigh.

The warrior remained motionless knowing that he was highly aroused. She gathered her thoughts, aware she had to stay calm.

He pulled the brand away, the molten iron tip coming within millimeters of her quivering breasts.

"Where's Sempha?" he asked. "I want to know where we'll find the Princess".

Silence.

"Think you're strong?" he rasped, his mouth inches from her face. The sight of his teeth and the smell of his breath made her wince and look away.

The dungeon master walked behind her. Amphora tried to track him, turning her head as far as she could, but the ropes restricted her movement. She struggled with renewed vigor. The beautiful victim remained helpless.

"Well," said the man, a jeer in his voice. He stroked her right shoulder enjoying the feeling of hard muscle just below the surface of her velvet skin. "What have we here? A serpent tattoo. Do you want to tell me the significance of the snake?"

Silence. Amphora stared straight ahead.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked back her head. The Amazon was caught off guard, momentarily breathless. "I said - have you no answer for me?" he whispered into her right ear.

She shook her head but he held her fast.

"I'm going to break your spirit," he rasped.

"Never," she snarled. "Scum".

The brute released her hair and stepped away to examine the back of her arms.

After what seemed an age the man made his decision and raised his hand. He drove the red-hot scythe into her shoulder destroying her tattoo in an instant. A terrible hissing sound and the overwhelming stench of burning flesh filled the chamber. Amphora felt a white heat of indescribable pain pass from her shoulder, through her whole body, into her eyes. The agony took her to a place she'd never been. The Amazon dropped back her head and screamed – a primal guttural cry. He withdrew the iron, small pieces of skin and flesh sticking to the metal. Again she screamed, the dreadful cry crashing against the walls. She was overwhelmed by nausea. Her head sunk to her chest.

The dungeon master came round to stand before the bound warrior. He placed his hand under her chin and lifted up her head. Her eyelids fluttered. He could see she was only semi-conscious.

"Now, my feisty friend, you wear the mark of the scythe," he said, "You are mine to use as I please. I OWN you".

Then she fainted.

* * *

The six groups of soldiers had split up but not before Tevo had given his men one last instruction. "I have an order direct from King Nemo. No one knows what Princess Sempha looks like. If you capture any Amazons you are expressly forbidden to harm them. The king wishes to be the first with Sempha. If we take the Princess, and can identify her, you will all get a chance with any other women we capture. Is that clear?" The men had nodded, understanding the gravity of the command.

No maps were available for this little-known region of Lumana so the group leaders made themselves familiar with prominent landmarks. The Captain had ordered that the troops reassemble back at the Lynx at noon on the fourth day after their arrival. The ship's crew had been left with route plans for the soldiers so that the troops could be contacted if word arrived from Thorania of Sempha's whereabouts.

Jemius's group, with Pilo as his number two, was searching an area southwest of the landing point. The terrain was hilly and forested but there were occasional plains of short grass between the trees. The scouts had informed them that few Amazons were currently in this region, the warrior women having been called for duty at the border where the Thoranian attack was expected. Despite this, the five men stuck together knowing that alone they could easily fall prey to a gang of Amazons.

Haalet had joined Tevo's group and they had set off in a northerly direction.

* * *

Sempha and Glaina were headed towards the northeast. Although familiar with the geography they traveled warily stopping occasionally at high vantage points to look out over the surrounding land. They were at the height of fitness but the heat, coupled the perpetual need for alertness, were taking their toll. The Amazon Princess and her powerful bodyguard were looking forward to arriving at their chosen hiding place.

* * *

A little after sunrise on the second day a sparrow hawk flew over Jemius's group. The men watched the bird fly past enjoying its easy movement. The canopy of trees high above them provided welcome relief from the scorching sun.

"What I wouldn't do for a pair of eyes in the sky," said Pilo, the others murmuring in agreement.

"Sssshhhh", whispered Jemius, his fingers to his lips.

Three hundred yards away to the west of them, two Amazons froze. Glaina instinctively motioned for Sempha to get down but the Princess had heard the sound too and was already kneeling behind a thick oak tree. Glaina joined her. Speaking in sign language they agreed to stay in their position.

The women heard tramping feet; the sound grew louder but was still some way off. Glaina sensed that whomever was making the noise was going to pass nearby but not close enough to cause them danger. The two warriors remained motionless, both crouching on one knee ready to run if necessary.

To disguise Sempha's identity in case of capture the Amazons were dressed alike. They wore green cotton sleeveless low-cut jerkins held across their breasts by leather laces, the cleavage of each woman clearly visible. They had brown leather skirts that came down to the middle of their muscular thighs, slit at the sides up to their waists. They wore dark-brown knee-length calfskin boots, pale-brown laces criss-crossing their shins drawn into a bow at top of the boots. These were ideal traveling clothes; lightweight for speed and excellent camouflage inside the forest. A black leather scabbard hung from their thick brown belts, each woman resting a hand on the hilts of their swords in case of immediate need. Both warriors had a dagger strapped to their left thigh, protected from moisture by light-brown calfskin sheaths. They had no need for provisions. The land was rich with fruit and nuts, and the water was clean enough to drink.

Although clothed identically they differed in appearance. Sempha's straight golden blonde hair was in sharp contrast to Glaina's curly copper mane. Both wore their thick lustrous hair far down their backs. Glaina was the taller of the two, at six foot the same height and build as her twin sister Amphora. Sempha was two inches shorter and proportionately smaller in body size. But the Princess shared the same remarkable muscle tone as her bodyguard sisters; immensely strong, beautifully defined, ultra taut; hard-bodied with muscles in peak condition. The two women were bronzed, their skin glowing with health. Each of them had generous breasts, Sempha especially so. They were both twenty-five years of age.

Glaina wore a gold serpent wound around her right bicep otherwise the women were devoid of jewelry bar one thing. Sempha wore a thin white braided-cotton band around her head, a puma's face engraved onto a small platinum sphere in the centre of her forehead, miniscule sapphires for eyes, its mouth open with teeth bared, the creature snarling.

Their faces were remarkable, stunning in opposite ways. Glaina was the spitting image of her twin sister - same catlike eyes, strong jaw-line, pretty nose, full lips, petite ears - except her eyes were a piercing emerald green. Sempha's features were equally feminine yet, incredibly, a degree finer. She had higher cheekbones and slightly fuller lips. These subtle differences gave her a look that was utterly exquisite. And her eyes; the palest blue. Feline. Sublime. Mesmerizing. Once seen never forgotten.

The sound of people approaching grew louder, twigs and bracken being snapped underfoot. The women could tell there was more than one person – also that the group was not large. But until the people came into view they were unable to determine the exact number and whether they were friend or foe. The group was getting closer – now only two hundred yards away. The Amazons watched, their breathing slowed.

Fifty yards ahead a deer appeared from the undergrowth walking directly into the path of the oncoming noise. Glaina spotted the animal immediately. So did a flock of crows. The birds took fright and several dozen of them launched squawking into the sky.

Jemius raised his arm and the group stopped dead in their tracks. His sixth sense told him something was wrong.

In seconds Glaina's brain performed hundreds calculations. Her number one concern was to protect Sempha. Perhaps the two warriors could overpower the men, however many there were, but she discounted that option immediately as too risky. She could make a run for it alone drawing the attention away from the Princess. The bodyguard knew that the men would follow her. She felt sure the aggressors would not wait to find out if there were other Amazons in the area; that for their stalkers, one in the hand was better than two in the bush. Glaina was certain she could outrun the men plus she had the advantage of knowing the terrain. Through the trees she could see a flat open plain, perfect for highlighting her presence at the expense of Sempha, and ideal for making a quick getaway. Although once away from the protection of the forest she would be exposed to fire from archers, she knew that if at all possible the men would want to take their intended target unharmed; that they would not use arrows to bring her down. A plan came together in her head. She could protect Sempha and escape herself, to rendezvous later with the Princess.

"There's something over there," Jemius said, nodding in the direction of the women. The Amazons heard the words and it was enough. Glaina decided to act.

"I'll meet you in the caves by the crooked sycamore tree in six hours," she whispered to Sempha. The Princess nodded. Both women understood Glaina's first duty; Sempha would not attempt to dissuade her bodyguard from putting herself in danger in order to protect the leader. The women exchanged eye contact, the full weight of Glaina's action thoroughly understood between them.

The group had begun to approach, now only a hundred yards away. Then eighty. Then sixty. Although tempted to make her break, Glaina waited until they were sufficiently close so that they would be sure to see her. The diversionary tactic absolutely had to work. When the gap had narrowed to just forty yards she leapt forward making as much noise as possible and headed off towards the grassland.

"Look," shouted Pilo, pointing at the Amazon fast disappearing through the trees.

"GET HER," yelled Jemius at the top of his voice.

The five soldiers ran after the powerful bodyguard passing within a few feet of Sempha, their attention on the fleeing warrior.

Some minutes later, when the troops were at a safe distance, Sempha stood up, flung back her thick blonde hair, and started her journey to the caves. She did not look back, pleased with the plan's result and confident in the knowledge that Glaina could easily outrun the men. The Princess looked forward to congratulating her bodyguard six hours hence.

* * *

The sharp pain coming from Amphora's shoulder pierced through the fog and bought her back to semi-consciousness. She opened her eyes and tried to bring her vision into focus. With her left hand the warrior went to nurse her wounded shoulder but found she was unable to move her arm more than a few inches. The sound of chains clanking reached her ears. The Amazon tried to move her legs but they were held fast, her ankles completely immobile.

"Welcome back my beauty." The deep husky sound appeared to come from a tall shadow standing to her left. "I missed you".

Instant recognition of the voice bought Amphora fully to her senses. She saw the shadow's hand coming towards her and tried to raise her arms to push him away only to find that her limbs were restrained. Again she heard the sound of chains rattling, this time clearer and louder. What had been a shadow became a muscular hairy man looking down at her. He wore a sleeveless black leather jerkin, open at the chest, and dark brown trousers. A Minotaur's head was tattooed onto his left shoulder. Anxious to avoid his touch she made an effort to twist her body out of harm's way. Suddenly the captive realized she could go nowhere – that she was tied on her back, her arms stretched out above her head. She was chained naked to an enormous oak rack.

The dungeon master placed his right hand on the warrior's abdomen and for the hundredth time since she'd been tied ran his hand across her stomach, relishing the ridges of muscle that lay beneath her smooth bronze skin, her belly rising and falling in time with her breathing. He moved his hand up her muscled torso and into her cleavage, his fingertips rough against her chest. Her breaths became deeper. He squeezed and twisted her prominent nipples threatening to wrench them from her dark brown aureoles. He slapped her breasts; first the right, then the left, then the right again, her tits wobbling from side to side before coming to rest. He had big hands. It had been a long time since he had had an opportunity to torture a woman whose breasts were sufficiently large for the whole flat of his hand to contact flesh. Amphora writhed as he hit her but she was held fast.

He moved his hand up her left arm, gripping and squeezing her taut triceps and flattened bicep. Although secured above her head, there was still enough slack in the chains for her arms to move a little. She tried to pull her hands down towards her unprotected body, her biceps accentuated in the process. She grimaced with the effort, fighting back the shot of pain that came from her right shoulder every time she moved. Even when she lay still, the constant ache that came from the brand gnawed at her resources. The man placed his palm against her bunched bicep, the sensation of her futile struggle exciting him.

Amphora relaxed her arms as his hand traveled along her forearm, his palm passing over the cold metal cuff that held her wrist. He liked the mechanism of the rack and the fantastic scale of the thing. The victim lay on nine slats of rough oak, the slats at the outer edges of the rack thicker than those in the centre. The contraption measured twelve foot end to end and was nearly four foot wide. Between each of the five central slats was a gap of half an inch. The rack stood four feet off the floor on six sturdy rectangular legs, edged by a thick frame. He studied the metal rings that were welded onto each side of her elliptical wrist-cuffs. With his eyes he followed the four thick brown chains up to the top of the huge rack, one chain attached to each side of the two cuffs, her open hands lying close together. He marveled at the winching mechanism, the chains running from her wrists along the boards to the underside of a great drum only a few inches above the upside of the rack. At each end of the cylinder was a big metal wheel, six wooden spokes protruding from the centre of each wheel.

Two levers and two winches, one of each centred at both ends of the rack, lay beneath the slats hidden behind the frame.

The fingers of his right hand interlocked with her left hand, small in comparison to his. Their eyes met. He bared his broken yellow teeth and started to bend back her fingers. She fought him, her chest rising and falling as he increased the pressure, her heart pumping furiously. He noticed his prisoner starting to sweat, beads of perspiration forming all over her toned body. He continued to bend back her fingers. Amphora winced. She tried to raise her arm off the rack, her muscles contorting with the effort, her veins standing proud, her breasts quivering.

The brute allowed the woman's arm to rise a little before using the new angle to force her fingers even further back. Amphora closed her eyes hard, clenched her teeth, and put all her energy into fighting back his hand. She started to win ground, her fingers returning from the uncomfortable angle. Sensing she might embarrass him, the dungeon master brought his left fist crashing down into her tensed abdomen winding the Amazon. Her eyes opened wide and she coughed. He seized the moment and wrenched back her fingers even further than before.

"Aaaarrrgghhhh," she cried out.

"That's more like it," he said, grinning.

He released her hand and stood for a moment admiring the remarkable body laid out before him. Everything about her made him salivate with pleasure. The slant of her fiery amber eyes alive with fire, the luster of her black hair splayed out on the wood above her head, the display of toned muscle under hard young flesh, the softness of her skin, the width of her flattened shoulder blades, her tapered waist, her gorgeous breasts, the sheer length of her stretched out at his mercy. He liked his victims spirited. And they didn't come much more feisty than the woman presented to him now.

The man wanted to finish his inspection before starting work. He put his hand on her left foot and felt the soft underside of her instep. He liked the scarlet paint the healers had used to decorate her toenails. He studied the four thick chains, six inches long, which ran from metal rings one on each side of the two circular cuffs that held her ankles separately. The other ends of the chains were welded to a black iron bar at the end of the rack. The Amazon's heels were close together, her feet splayed out almost as if she was standing.

He brought his hand along her smooth shin, up over her knee, and onto her muscular thighs. Her legs; their shape, their femininity, their power, amazed him. He placed his hand against her inner thigh appreciating the extra soft skin. She looked away to her right, determined not to show any emotion, humiliated in her nakedness. His fingers played with her soft dark hairs. She wouldn't look at him. He wanted to play with her; to squeeze her folds of skin and drive his fingers inside her. But he chose to hold back, that pleasure to be saved until he was alone with her. The man withdrew his hand.

"Let me introduce my accomplices," he said.

Four figures stepped forward from behind her head coming to stand two each side of the rack, the woman positioning herself next to the dungeon master.

"This is Clen, Puno, and Breet, " he said pointing respectively at the bald man, the skinny one, and the man with the non-existent nose. "And this is Ennuta. She is an expert with breasts. You'll have a chance to get acquainted with her later". The dungeon master stroked Ennuta's lank hair.

"Oh," he said as an afterthought. "Ennuta despises beautiful women". The ugly female's mouth broke into a smile but her dark eyes remained hard, burning with venom. Amphora swallowed.

"And I dare not even describe the plans the other three have for you," he snarled. "They've only dreamt of torturing an Amazon – until now that is".

The five of them stood and leered at her spectacular body laid out before them totally at their mercy. The bound woman struggled against the chains, each person taking pleasure from watching her squirm.

"Take your positions," said the dungeon master, his head motioning towards the top of the rack. "It's time to get some answers".

Amphora's heart pounded in her chest. Her mind raced. "Glaina. Sempha. Where are you? Come quickly. Please please come quickly".

The four people walked away in the direction from which they had come and out of her sight. She strained her head backwards, to the left, and saw Clen standing by the top corner of the rack facing a large metal wheel, his hands resting on two wooden spokes. She looked back, to her right, and saw Breet at the other corner in a similar position. Puno and Ennuta were nowhere to be seen.

The dungeon master placed the palms of his hands face down on the rack by her waist and cleared his throat. She turned her attention back to the ogre.

"Where's Sempha?" he said impassively.

Amphora looked away from him, her head touching the inside of her right arm.

"I said, where's the Princess?"

Silence.

He looked up at the two men.

"Stretch her."

In unison, Clen and Breet turned the wheel. The cylinder started to rotate gathering up slack in the chains that held her arms. The links wound around the drum, anti-slip locking mechanisms built into the rack clicking as the wheel was turned.

Click.

Click.

Amphora felt her wrist-cuffs start to tug against her hands.

Click click click.

Her arms were pulled straighter. Her breathing quickened, her chest rising and falling vigorously, her breasts gently wobbling.

When the wrist chains were taut she felt her whole body pulled very slightly towards the top of the rack as what little slack was left in the ankle chains was taken up. Suddenly the wheel became tight in the men's hands. She was stretched out as far as she could naturally reach. The men stopped turning as the final ratchet locked holding her rigid. She felt utterly vulnerable, her naked body an open target for them to abuse as they pleased.

"Where will we find your leader?"

"Do what you want to me," said Amphora. "I'll tell you nothing".

"Don't worry," he replied. "We shall".

He looked up at the two men.

"Stretch the bitch".

Clen and Breet leaned into the wheels. The cylinder groaned and started to rotate. The cuffs at the extremities of her limbs bit into her flesh as the chains began to pull her muscled body apart.

Click.

Click.

"AAAARRGGHHH."

They continued to turn the drum.

Click.

"NOOOOOO".

The racked Amazon struggled against the chains, every muscle in her body tight as she fought with the mechanism. The pain in her right shoulder numbed as her elbows, shoulders, and hips – wrists, knees, and ankles – and spine - shrieked in protest at being wrenched apart. She twisted and turned as best she could, her breasts swayed, her ribcage expanded, her stomach sucked in, her waist impossibly slim. Sweat ran from her body dripping onto the oak boards on which she lay.

The men stopped again, the rack straining to hold the warrior stretched beyond anything she could have imagined possible.

"Had enough my beauty?" said the dungeon master. "We can continue if you wish. Have you anything to tell me?"

Amphora's face was screwed up in pain, her eyes closed, her teeth gritted, her fingernails digging into her palms.

"No?" he asked.

"Never," she whispered. "You'll never break me," she said, forcing the words out between deep breaths.

"And more," he smiled.

Altering the positions of their feet to add their weight, Clen and Breet cranked the wheels. The grinding sound coming from the mechanism was deafening to her. How could they stretch her more? Where was there left to go?

Click.

The tortured woman flung back her head, her back now off the boards, the two men able to see the pained expression on her face as she looked back at the thugs. Her triceps stood proud from her upper arms. The muscles in her thighs were rounded and hard. The hollows of her armpits glistened, her whole body slick with sweat. The metal cuffs ate into her wrists and ankles, blood oozing from fresh cuts. Her breathing became constricted, her lungs under enormous pressure.

Click.

Her screams ricocheted off the walls.

Click.

"NOOOOO. EEEAAAARRRGGHHH. LET ME GO YOU BASTARDS. LET ME GO".

"Stop there," said the dungeon master calmly.

The men released the wheels, checking that the locking mechanisms could hold the outstretched captive.

The ogre turned to his prisoner.

"Have you decided to talk my beauty?"

From her innermost being she summoned fresh strength and pulled on the chains. The mechanism gave one click in reverse and froze. The physical relief for her was meager, the psychological boost massive.

"Trying to break my rack are you?" said the dungeon master, putting his face close up to hers, his filthy hair brushing against her nose. "I don't think so. This is just the start. We'll continue until you talk".

Amphora turned her face away but he pulled her head back to the centre, his fingers gripping her cheeks.

"Your decoration looks wonderful," he said, stroking her eyebrows with his other hand. "Such a shame to see you in agony".

He released her head and she turned away again, her face feeling the sweat on her muscled arm.

"Stretch her at will."

The dungeon master stood back and watched. They stretched her, let her rest, then stretched her further. It felt as if the very ligaments of her muscles were about to be ripped from her frame. After an hour of torture, when she thought she could take no more, they gave her more. Much more.

With Amphora's defenseless body lying against the slats, the dungeon master walked to the end of the rack by her feet.

"Engage the next level," he said.

Puno stepped forwards and stood by the centre of the drum. The two men reached down and pulled on the two hidden levers. Metal ground against metal as switching gear beneath the rack fell into place.

"Bring them up," said the dungeon master. He and Puno turned the winches. Rising slowly, five rows of sharpened metal spikes appeared in between the five central slats. Each row ran the length of the rack, the points an inch apart.

As the spikes rose above the slats they started digging into Amphora's flesh. First her buttocks, then her upper back, then her thighs, calves, and arms. Only the small of her back was spared the piercing metal. She tried to raise herself above the points but she was held fast by the chains. She twisted to her right only for a spike to dig deep into her wounded shoulder making her shriek.

"And now the rest," said the dungeon master.

The men worked the levers and the rows of spikes moved back and forth.

She screamed in agony as the spikes ripped into her stretched body, her limbs and torso at breaking point. When they re-tightened the chains she was pulled clear of the points. And when they relaxed the drum a notch or two her body sunk down onto the spikes. They engaged the levers again. The Amazon cried out, her stomach muscles tight as she fought to keep her head off the points. Drops of blood ran down the spikes and onto the floor. Again they tightened the drum and again she was lifted slightly higher, her temptress body at full stretch.

After another hour of hideous torture the back of her torso and limbs were a mass of cuts.

But the Amazon had said nothing.

The dungeon master stood by the side of the rack and looked down at the victim. Her body was just as beautiful despite the ordeal.

"It's pointless you resisting me," he said menacingly. "We WILL get the information we require. Where is the Princess?"

She gasped for breath.

"Where?" he asked again, thumping his fist against the rack.

Amphora closed her eyes. Almost imperceptibly, she shook her head.

"Let me tell you something about our plans for you," he said. "Perhaps you'll change your mind about where your loyalties lie".

The interrogator leaned closer to her face. He could read the agony in her expression.

"If you choose not to help us today, what will follow is beyond your worst nightmare. The rack will seem a mere trifle in comparison. You will be given to each of my accomplices in turn; they have plans for your lovely body that'll make you wish you were dead".

He ran his hands down her torso and licked her sweat off his fingers.

She shuddered.

"But I'll be sure you survive," he continued, "so that I can personally strap you into my newest piece of equipment. I'm sorely tempted to take you there immediately but I promised my colleagues the opportunity to work on you. I call my new invention the 'device' and you will have the honor of being my first experiment". The man pulled away. "For the last time, where will we find Sempha?"

The Amazon opened her eyes. Were those tears he saw? She bared her teeth. Through rasping breath she spat out a single word.

"Never".

The two adversaries locked eyes.

"Break her," said her torturer.

The two men on the wheels gave everything they had and from somewhere they found another - click.

Then another - click

And then another – click - from the over-burdened mechanism.

They had never turned the wheel so far; had never seen a victim undergo what she had endured. The woman's screams hurt their ears, her agony echoing off the walls of the sealed chamber.

With her remarkable body totally flat, her skin stretched far beyond what seemed possible, her joints and muscles violently protesting at their inhuman treatment, her wrists and ankles bleeding, her flesh cut by the spikes, they locked the drum in place and left her. The mechanism creaked with the strain of holding the tortured warrior.

She lay before them soaked in sweat, barely conscious, in unbearable agony.

"It's your turn tomorrow Ennuta," said the dungeon master. "I want that information. And I want it soon. Everyone has a breaking point, even her".

He walked away, then looked back.

"Leave the Amazon for a while," he said over his shoulder. "Then untie her, wash her, and give her food. I want her fresh for the morning".

* * *

Glaina broke out of the woods and started out across the flat grass plain towards a copse half a mile away, her copper hair flying behind her as she gathered speed. Her muscular legs pounded the ground, the slits in her skirt allowing her free movement. The woman's large breasts swayed inside her jerkin. The sound of the wind rushing in her ears mixed with the gentle rattling that came from her sword against the top of its scabbard.

The small branches and vines that littered the forest floor impeded the soldiers' progress. By the time Chrim, the fastest of the group, had exited the trees, the Amazon was sixty yards ahead of him. He could see where she was headed. Rather than wait for the others and risk loosing her amongst the trees up ahead, he decided to carry on alone. The man was a superb athlete, champion of the runners at the Thoranian games. Chrim began gaining ground on the woman but began to doubt that he could catch her before she entered the copse.

The Amazon stole a glance backwards, her curly hair falling across her face. She could see the approaching soldier, four others some way behind him. Turning forward again she knew she would reach the safety of the trees before he caught up with her. Once inside the wood her greater agility would allow her to pull ahead and loose the group. Her plan had worked. Both she and the Princess were safe.

But there was one key piece of information about Chrim that Glaina did not possess.

* * *

While Glaina charged across the plain, Tevo and his four companions approached a shallow gorge, rocks rising up to points on either side of them. The commander knew that a ravine of this type was always dangerous but there was no way around it without losing valuable time.

"Spread out," he said. "And keep your wits about you. I'll lead. Haalet, you bring up the rear".

The men entered the gorge in single file, their senses on full alert. It was stiflingly hot and airless between the walls of rock, silent but for the sound of their leather tunics squeaking as they walked. Their feet kicked up dust, the thick atmosphere heightening their thirsts. They knew that the Captain had planned a refreshment break once they reached the other end.

Nearing the exit they started to relax, their thoughts turning to water and the opportunity to take the weight off their feet. They had been walking for three hours solid.

A rushing sound filled the air.

THUCK.

THUCK THUCK.

The middle three men fell to the ground, dead. Tevo and Haalet froze. Three Amazons appeared on top of the rocks and started running down towards them, their swords drawn. The women were splitting up, two of them heading for Haalet and one for the Captain. Tevo panicked – he couldn't decide what to do. Those precious seconds of indecision proved to be disastrous. The two women were upon Haalet, his inexperience no match for their fighting ability. The Prince was on the ground, the warriors on top of him tying his hands.

"Better to get help than risk being killed," Tevo decided and fled.

The woman could probably have caught the Captain but she decided to let him go. Their instructions had been to take a man alive with the intention of extracting information about the Thoranian's attack plans. She knew that Tolana would be pleased with her and her two companions.

* * *

Chrim had narrowed the gap between him and Glaina to just ten yards but it had taken him most of the half mile to do so and he was starting to tire. The woman was nearly at the copse. He knew that the moment she reached the trees she'd be gone. Enticing as she was, the sight of her flowing copper hair and long bronzed legs exciting him, he was not fast enough to catch her. He stopped running, his heart smashing against his chest. It seemed as if his lungs were about to burst. But this was not a moment to think about pain. Time was of the essence.

He reached around his back with his arms. He knew that Tevo wanted their quarry to be taken unharmed. His colleagues had laughed when he had shown them this new piece of equipment but he was about to prove them wrong. He grasped the weapon and pulled it over to his front.

Glaina was within fifteen yards of the forest. She had put on a final burst of speed that she knew had left her pursuer standing. The Amazon took her hand off the hilt of her sword so she could gain an extra few seconds from the more efficient swinging of her arms.

From nowhere, with no sound, her arms were suddenly pinned hard against her side. A sharp tug pulled her backwards. In a cloud of dust she crashed to the ground….……lassoed.

* * *

Sempha made her way through the forest silently taking care not to step on twigs or branches that might make noise. Every twenty yards she stopped, held her breath, listened, and scoured the way ahead for signs of danger. She had suspected there were scouts in the region but had no idea that soldiers had landed nearby. Despite her caution and experience she was unaware that an expert in jungle combat was watching her, his camouflage making him invisible against the trees. The man had been stalking her for over two miles, waiting for the right moment to strike. He was in awe of her beauty, entranced by the way her thick blonde hair swung as she walked, transfixed by her muscular limbs, bewitched by glimpses of her stunning face as she looked about her. He longed to touch the astonishing woman but knew that patience was the key to bagging this prey – the greatest prize of all.

To be continued……..

* * *

The following totally fictitious writings of M Coolham are intended for the sole readership of those of LEGAL AGE. The ADULT ONLY material contained within is also for personal use only where local standards permit scenes of violence, torture and sex. Please do not read further if any of these subjects offend, or if you are not of legal age.

This is a work of fiction. The author does not condone violence of any sort.

The following is under Copyright and is for your sole enjoyment. Your cooperation in not using the material in any other application without the express permission of the author is requested. Thank you.

Interrogation of an Amazon

CHAPTER SIX

Ennuta

Glaina fought against the lasso, her arms trapped against her body. Chrim was upon her in seconds pinning her to the ground. Kicking out her legs she threw him off, rolled sideways, and then onto her feet. Before the Amazon could run five steps the other members of the group arrived and surrounded her. With her arms immobile she was unable to fight and they captured her easily. Pilo held the woman from behind, his forearm around her throat, her hair flying in his face, her torso pressed against him. Jemius removed her weapons and threw them to the ground.

"Leave me alone you bastards," she screamed, her emerald eyes glaring at the four breathless onlookers. Pilo could feel her wrestling the lasso.

"You're not going anywhere," said Chrim. "We've traveled a long way to find you".

"I don't want her raising the alarm," said Jemius between deep breaths. "There might be others around. We need to gag her".

Chrim searched in his uniform, found a cloth, and passed the rag to Jemius. The leader approached the captured woman and grabbed a fistful of her thick copper-coloured hair. He yanked back her head simultaneously pushing the gag against her full lips.

"NNNNGGHHHH".

"Open your mouth bitch," he snarled.

She fought, her mouth remaining closed.

Chrim took Glaina's sword and drove the hilt into her belly winding the struggling warrior. Her lips parted a fraction and Jemius took the opportunity, forcing the rag into her mouth. She pushed against the cloth with her tongue but it was in too deep. While Pilo held his palm across her face, Jemius cut a piece of rope from the end of the lasso and wrapped it around her head, knotting it tight, snagging her hair painfully in the rope.

"Nice job," said Jemius. "Now her arms".

The soldiers threw Glaina to the ground chest down, her breasts flattening inside her jerkin. She struggled against the gang but five onto one was too many. They tied her hands behind her back and bound her elbows together. The men turned their prisoner onto her back and stood up to admire their handiwork. With her arms forced back the power of her shoulders was amplified, the sinews under her bronzed skin working as she struggled against the bondage. Her triceps stood proud, rock hard with the exertion. Her breasts thrust forward, straining against the front of her laced jerkin.

"On your feet."

Using the lasso they hauled her up.

"Blindfold her," said Jemius.

Pilo tore a sleeve from his shirt and wrapped it around Glaina's eyes, tying the material tight behind her head. The Amazon's world was plunged into darkness.

"You're coming with us," said Jemius. "We have some questions for you". He passed the lasso to Chrim. "You have the honor".

The men started the journey back to the Lynx, Chrim pulling their leashed trophy like a dog.

* * *

Four hours later Sempha arrived at the caves by the crooked sycamore tree. Very few people knew this place; she felt safe and allowed herself to relax a little. Looking around she saw no sign of her bodyguard but she was not worried. There were still a couple of hours left before their agreed rendezvous time. Just to the south of the caves there was a mound of earth hidden amongst some trees, a good vantage point from which to survey the surrounding area. The Princess went to sit on the hillock and soak up the late afternoon sun.

Her stalker watched and waited. Patience was his byword.

* * *

Haalet's captors arrived back at their camp. They tied the Prince to a post in full view of their assembled comrades. The troop leader walked up to him.

"My name is Lema," she said. "I need some information. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. You choose".

The frightened man gulped.

"How old are you?" asked Lema.

"Twenty-eight," he replied.

"Old enough to know better than enter Lumana uninvited," she said.

* * *

The rendezvous time approached. While Jemius's group was setting up camp, binding Glaina to a sturdy elm for the night, Sempha was sitting with her legs pulled up under her chin, her arms folded across her knees. She was enjoying the dramatic blood-red sunset. The Princess wanted to see the sun slip below the horizon before entering one of the caves to wait for her bodyguard. Fireflies had appeared sparking out their mating calls. Mosquitoes, too, had come out and Sempha felt herself being bitten.

Just as she got up to leave, Sempha felt a nasty sting on her thigh. She looked down to see what type of insect had inflicted such a vicious bite. But rather than a fly, to her horror she saw a small feather dart sticking out of her leg. Before she could react, another pierced her shoulder. The Princess panicked and tried to stand but her leg would not hold her. Her sword arm had been paralyzed. She collapsed on the earth losing consciousness fast. She tried to call out but could not link her mouth to her thoughts. The stricken woman felt her eyelids growing heavy. Visions flashed through her mind; anger at herself for being so careless and concern that Glaina might not come in time.

The poison overwhelmed her body and a few seconds later she passed out.

An owl hooted three times. Rufus heard the call and knew it was no owl. The same sound again, coming from the north. He and his men walked towards the direction of the calls.

* * *

Amphora had been removed from the rack, washed, and fed as instructed. For the dungeon master it was important to keep the woman in good condition - as good as was possible given the nature of the ordeals being inflicted upon her. Now that he was free to experiment upon her in any way he wished, he wanted this most precious subject to last. For him the pleasure was doubled if his victims remained feisty and able to resist. He liked a challenge; the more they fought the greater the excitement.

The Amazon had been chained to the floor, her back rubbing against the rough stone. Despite the appalling ache in her joints, the burning pain in her shoulder, and the rawness of her buttocks and the back of her body, she had slept deeply. The racking had exhausted her. Just as the dungeon master desired her strong, she, too, wanted to replenish her resources. She was determined to remain silent no matter what horrors the brutes were to impose on her.

The prisoner was awakened by a sharp kick to her branded shoulder. She came round instantly and reached to protect her wound. But they had chained her limbs to manacles either side of her. She was unable to protect herself.

"Wake up bitch," said a woman's voice. "It's my turn".

While Amphora had slept the dungeon master had presided over the drawing of lots to decide the sequence in which his accomplices were to question the Amazon. Ennuta was to go first. The ugly woman had been thrilled. All her life she had resented the beauty gifted to others. Now in her forty-third year a profound bitterness was etched into her heart. It was her deep hatred of attractive women that had brought her to the attention of the dungeon master and that had resulted in an invitation to join his ghoulish band.

The warrior opened her eyes and saw all five of her tormentors standing over her.

"You know where to take her," said Ennuta.

It was a tradition that the person leading the interrogation session gave the instructions. On this day, Ennuta was the dungeon mistress.

Clen, Puno, and Breet joined the dungeon master in releasing the Amazon's arms, sitting her up, and retying them behind her back. Only when she was fully secure did they untie her legs. Two of the men grabbed fistfuls of her hair and hauled the bound woman to her feet, the other two gripping her arms. Considering the dreadful nature of the treatment already metered out to her, Amphora felt surprisingly fresh. She struggled against the ropes holding her wrists and wrestled with the men. The dungeon master stood behind her and put his arm around her throat. She thrashed against him but her exertion was futile. He held her tight. Ennuta stood back watching her victim's gorgeous breasts swaying violently. The older woman's heart began to quicken. She had waited a long time for this moment and was going to enjoy every moment of it – she had promised herself that she would take it nice and slow.

The four men pulled their victim towards a wooden post sticking up through the flagstones. The post was thick oak, a little over five feet tall and nearly two feet in diameter, the top cut off cleanly leaving a smooth surface. The area around the post was clear of equipment bar three manacles driven into the dungeon floor, two at each side and one eighteen inches behind the oak.

Ennuta watched while the gang threw Amphora against the post. The rough wood aggravated the damaged skin on her back. The dungeon master had executed this maneuver many times before and quickly positioned himself behind the post. He reached across the front of the bucking warrior pinning her to the wood, his forearm hard against her neck constricting her breathing.

The other three men untied the Amazon's wrists and pulled her arms behind the post, her muscles pronounced as she resisted her aggressors. The dungeon master tightened his grip and she gasped, her eyes widening as she fought for breath. He could see that her resistance was causing difficulty for his accomplices. Using his other arm the ogre prodded the weeping sore on her right shoulder. Amphora shrieked, the momentary distraction allowing the three men to finally knot her wrists together. She was tied securely against the oak but, purposely, not too tight.

The four men stood in front of the warrior and leered. Their desire for her muscled body was stronger than ever. Ennuta joined them.

"She's all yours," said the dungeon master.

Ennuta positioned herself in front of the prisoner keeping a safe distance back, all too aware that the Amazon's legs were still free. The bound woman struggled against the cords holding her wrists, each movement driving small splinters into the cuts that ran down the back of her body. Amphora's bouncing breasts increasingly excited Ennuta.

At six foot, the victim was considerably taller than her female tormentor. To Ennuta this was unacceptable.

"Kneel," said Ennuta.

The women glared at each other, small dark eyes locked in combat with catlike amber.

"I said kneel," snarled Ennuta through gritted teeth.

"Never," hissed the prisoner.

Ennuta clicked her fingers. The four men went to stand behind the warrior, two on each side.

"I said – KNEEL".

The Amazon struggled furiously, the men watching her fists balling and unballing, her triceps taut as she worked against the ropes.

The smaller woman clicked her fingers again. The men reached down and grabbed Amphora's ankles pulling them out from under her. The warrior fell to the ground, her knees smashing against the stone floor.

"Aaarrrgghhh".

Before she could regain her footing the men forced her ankles together and tied them to the manacle behind the post. They pulled her thighs apart and tied her knees to the manacles on either side of the post. When they had finished the Amazon was helpless, her legs wide, her arms behind the post, her feet immobile.

Ennuta walked up to Amphora and stood inches from her prisoner's torso. Now the aggressor was an inch taller than her victim. The ugly woman grinned broadly.

The difference between the two women was striking. Whereas Amphora was tall and muscular, Ennuta was short and scrawny. The Amazon's hair was thick and shiny against her bronze skin while the torturer's lay lank and dull amplifying her pale complexion. The warrior had a stunning face, feline eyes, full lips, and perfect teeth; the dungeon mistress had always been plain, with small eyes set close together, thin lips, and crooked teeth. Amphora had generous provocative breasts. Her interrogator was flat-chested and featureless. Ennuta had come to despise beautiful women, envy building up inside her layer upon layer. She had tortured lovely females on other occasions but none of her previous subjects could challenge the manifestation of beauty that was now tied and at her mercy. Years of simmering frustration started to boil.

Ennuta watched while Amphora struggled, her muscled thighs straining against the ropes that held her legs three feet apart, her breasts wobbling as she fought against her bondage.

"Where's Sempha?" said Ennuta calmly.

Amphora remained impassive her heart racing. The warrior could sense the venom lurking just beneath the surface in the woman standing before her.

"You survived the rack but you won't survive me," said Ennuta, her hands clasped behind her back. "Where will we find the Princess?"

Silence.

Ennuta lashed out, slapping the Amazon's cheek with the back of her hand driving her captive's head to one side.

Amphora turned back to face the woman.

"What's it like being pig ugly?" said Amphora, a smirk across her lips.

Ennuta flushed, her victim's remark fuelling her anger.

"You'll know soon enough," replied Ennuta. "By the time we've finished you'll be unrecognizable. Sure, men will still stare at you – but with horror, not desire".

Before Amphora could reply, Ennuta drove her knee into the Amazon's stomach. The warrior was ready, her lightening reflexes tensing her abdominal muscles to repel the blow.

Ennuta took a step forward and studied Amphora's left breast enjoying it quiver as the prisoner's chest rose and fell. Ennuta reached out and held the succulent globe, letting its weight sit in her palm. The thin woman had small hands so the flesh of the Amazon's breast escaped either side of her palm. She brought up her other hand and cupped the soft orb as if she was about to drink from it. She massaged the tit all over, pulling at the prominent brown nipple, running her fingertips around and around the pebbly aureole. She appreciated the sheer size of the breast sitting in her little hands.

The thin woman repeated the exercise with the warrior's right globe. The Amazon looked away. For Amphora, the humiliation of being fondled in this way ate away at her. That her legs were held apart was worse. She had never felt so naked – so exposed – so completely vulnerable.

Ennuta released Amphora's right breast and marveled at the way it immediately returned to its original position, firm and proud. The dungeon mistress turned her attention back to the Amazon's left orb. Again she held it with both hands. This time, though, rather than stroking and enjoying the young flesh, she scratched at the bronze skin with her long dirty fingernails, gouging her thumbs into the Amazon's unprotected tit. The warrior winced but held back a cry. The torturer moved to the right breast, hanging as if inviting abuse. For ten minutes Ennuta scraped and groped her victim's chest, squeezing the firm flesh hard between her palms.

For Amphora, the pain from the aggressors' sharp nails digging into her sensitive flesh was acute but she endured the discomfort and humiliation in silence.

She pulled her hands away and studied the scratches that now soiled the perfection of Amphora's chest. In a sudden frenzy she started slapping the defenceless woman's breasts. Again and again, harder and harder, Ennuta's hands smacked against the Amazon's vulnerable breasts making them bounce from side to side.

SLAP. SLAP. SLAP.

The sound of open palm against beaten flesh echoed around the chamber. When the torturer had finished both women were sweating.

Ennuta walked away and returned with a brown leather pouch and a short whip. The Amazon swallowed hard. The ugly woman placed the whip on the floor ensuring it was in her victims' line of sight. Slowly she unraveled the pouch, allowing the contents to reveal themselves instrument by instrument. Amphora's eyes were drawn first to the knives and scalpels then the hooks and long pins. She swallowed hard.

"Do you want to tell me where we'll find the Princess", said Ennuta, spreading out the pouch on the flagstones.

Nothing.

"Be sure – I'm only just warming up".

"I'll never be broken by a troll like you," said Amphora, glaring.

Ennuta stroked the Amazon's breasts.

"I'm going to make you feel pain beyond anything you could possibly imagine," said the interrogator.

The warrior fought in vain against the bonds.

While Ennuta prepared her tools, a smell of burning began to fill the chamber. From behind the post Amphora could hear someone working – sounds of shuffling and grating.

Once the dungeon mistress was satisfied that the warrior had taken in the sight of the hideous equipment, she walked up to her captive and stood before the bound woman looking down into Amphora's eyes. Ennuta's heart rushed with the simple pleasure of having made the tall muscular Amazon look up at her.

"Tell me where to find your leader," Ennuta hissed, tantalized by the rivers of sweat running down Amphora's naked body.

Silence.

Ennuta shot a glance at the men standing behind the post.

"Chains," said Ennuta.

The dungeon master and his three accomplices forced the warrior's elbows together and encircled them in chains. They placed a clasp between the links holding the chains fast. Amphora's shoulders were pulled back. Her breasts thrust forwards and upwards.

Ennuta grinned. "A little more please".

The men tugged on the metal and tightened the clasp across another two links. The warrior cried out, her face contorted, her pectoral muscles stretched unnaturally. The ache in her shoulders became a searing pain, her back a mass of agony as her torn skin pressed harder into the splintered wood. With each additional link her mouth-watering orbs protruded further from her body.

Ennuta savoured the contrast between her victim's toned limbs and solid torso, able to resist the harshest of blows, and the vulnerability of her prisoner's fleshy breasts, unprotected and open to torture.

"Just one more," Ennuta whispered hoarsely.

The men worked the chains.

Tick.

Another link fell under the clasp.

"Noooooo. No more!!" Amphora's pleading echoed around the airless chamber. She closed her eyes in an effort to block out the pain.

The Amazon's body was completely immobilized. She could move only her head.

"Where's Sempha?" Ennuta asked calmly.

Amphora opened her eyes and looked at her torturer. The warrior was breathing deeply, the exaggerated rising and falling of her chest, the concave shape of her stomach, further exciting the older woman. The Amazon shook her head.

Ennuta picked up the whip and ran her hands along its length. The weapon had a thin beech handle, three thick strands of black leather protruding from the end, tiny knots gathering the leather at the tips. The dungeon mistress held the whip in her right hand and opened the palm of her left. She whipped her open hand as if to mock the captive. The warrior heard a slapping noise, the sound competing with the din of her heart pounding.

The four men walked over and stood behind their female colleague to watch the show.

CRACK

The whip crashed into Amphora's left breast, the three straps connecting separately, each piece of leather stinging fiercely.

"Eeeeaaarrggh".

WHHIIPP

The same, but on her right tit.

"Nnnnggghhh".

CRACK. WHHIIPP. SMACK.

Left right left.

The Amazon shook her head wildly, her thick hair lashing the post.

CRACK

Left.

CRACK

Left again, one of the strands landing directly on her nipple, the pain excruciating.

Ennuta came to stand beside her victim and continued with the torture, bringing the whip down onto the top of Amphora's quivering orbs.

WHHIIPP

"Aaaeegghh".

Again the whip found its target. Fresh pain seared into the newly scarred flesh. Silent agony across the Amazon's face.

CRACK. WHHIIPP.

Leather contacted her upper chest, one strand marking her shoulder. Amphora turned her head away, anxious to protect her face.

WHHIIPP. WHHIIPP. WHHIIPP.

Angry crimson welts appeared on the victim's luscious globes. The stinging sensation reached to her very core, the pain intensifying as the blows rained down. For twenty straight minutes Ennuta whipped the Amazon's gorgeous breasts, from the front, from the side, and from the front again. To Amphora, it felt as if her ordeal would never end.

And when, eventually, the torture stopped there was no bronze skin remaining on her beaten orbs, the warrior's sensitive breasts red, swollen, and raw. Tiny pinpricks of blood oozed from cuts where the leather knots had pierced her skin.

Amphora's body was slick with sweat. Her head lay back against the post, her eyes tightly closed, her breathing ragged.

Lines of sweat ran down Ennuta's face; she raised her arm and pulled it across her forehead. She gasped for breath, her slim frame unaccustomed to such arduous exertion. Usually her victims lasted only a few minutes. That a woman should have remained silent throughout such a thorough whipping was unheard of. The onlookers whispered amongst themselves expressing surprise and disgruntled admiration for the bound woman.

The acrid scent of burning continued to the stifle the atmosphere

Ennuta threw down the whip, walked up to Amphora, and reached into the captive's mass of hair. She yanked back the Amazon's head pleased to see that deep pain was evident in the eyes that looked up at her. With her free hand the aggressor ran her hand across the warrior's damaged breasts. Amphora winced, a moan escaping from her throat.

"Are you ready to talk bitch?" Ennuta growled.

Silence.

She bashed the helpless woman's head against the post.

"I said, are you ready to talk yet?"

Amphora screwed up her eyes. Summoning strength from some deep reserve, she shook her head free.

"Didn't you hear me the first time?" hissed Amphora. "I will tell you nothing!"

Ennuta flushed. She moved back to her position in front of the warrior and turned to the small audience.

"I want to engage the next level," she said calmly, her composure regained.

The men walked out of Amphora's sight. Through a haze of pain the Amazon heard a trundling sound, starting softly and getting louder as whatever it was they were pushing approached the post.

"Stop there," said Ennuta. "I want to try something else first". She pointed towards the corner of the chamber.

Again there was the sound of something being brought over to where the muscular warrior knelt. As the noise came closer the smell of burning grew more intense. Before the brazier came into view, Amphora recognized the scent of roasting coal. She tried to struggle but the chains and ropes held her rigid.

The male attendants pulled the brazier over to Ennuta.

"Thank you," she said. "I'll take it from here".

She picked up the leather pouch and placed the sharp ends of several instruments into the hot coals. In moments the tools were glowing red.

"Ennuta," said the dungeon master, looking at her intently. "Remember our conversation earlier?"

"Yes," said Ennuta. "I haven't forgotten".

Those who watched saw a gruesome display of torture by an expert in the field. The ugly woman bent over her subject like a master technician tackling a difficult problem, her concentration unshaken by the warrior's hideous screams - and the sound and smell of sizzling flesh. Twice the Amazon fainted and twice they brought her round, drenching her in cold water so that the interrogation could continue. Ennuta applied the heated instruments in turn. First the tiny hook, its point as sharp as its edge. Then a series of scalpels, each one ideal for a different purpose. Pins followed. A serrated knife finished the exhibition.

For two whole hours Ennuta worked on Amphora's breasts. She stopped occasionally to let her victim recover, or to ask about Sempha's whereabouts.

When Ennuta finally stepped away, Amphora was almost senseless with pain. Her head was slumped against her chest and spittle drooled from her mouth. Parts of her breasts were burnt and gouged. A section of the aureole on her right tit had been partially peeled back, the nipple ruined. But her aggressor had held back leaving the Amazon's orbs still remarkable even if they now bore evidence of appalling cruelty.

The torturer had wanted to continue but the dungeon master had given her strict instructions that morning.

"Ennuta," he had said. "Today the prisoner is yours to interrogate. Do what you wish - I want her to talk. But do not destroy her breasts. I have an experiment I wish to undertake on them when she is strapped into the device. And leave her face intact. Clen, Puno, and Breet have the woman after you. I want them to enjoy watching that pretty face suffer".

In truth, it took all of Ennuta's will to refrain from applying the blades to her victim's face.

And although Amphora had screamed from the very centre of her being, cried out until there was no more breath in her lungs, and once even pleaded out loud for Sempha to come and rescue her, the interrogators had learnt nothing about the Princess's whereabouts.

Ennuta walked up to the wounded captive and slapped her left breast. A jet of pain reached into Amphora's consciousness and she raised her head to meet the gaze of her aggressor. The thin woman couldn't help noticing how, despite the brutal torture, Amphora remained stunning. Envy bubbled up. Ennuta decided to secure another session with the Amazon – perhaps after he'd conducted his experiments with the device – when all limits would be off.

"Amphora," said Ennuta, aware that time was running out for her methods to work. "Sooner or later I will make you talk. Save yourself yet more pain. Tell me where to find your leader".

The Amazon narrowed her eyes.

"You cannot hurt me more than this. I will not talk".

"You are mistaken my beauty," said Ennuta. "I can hurt you more than this. And I will".

Ennuta called to the four men.

"I'm ready for the next level," she said, motioning towards the piece of equipment that had been positioned behind the post. The men moved the instrument a few inches nearer to the post and started preparing it for use.

Clen, the dungeon master, and Ennuta stood in front of the prisoner, their eyes fixed on a point above the oak post. Amphora tried to look up but the movement caused her breasts to wobble, intensifying the pain, so she chose instead to look straight ahead.

The sound of chains passing through links filled the chamber, the mechanism grinding and squeaking. The Amazon watched as her interrogator's eyes followed the slow progress of the instrument downwards. Little by little the warrior sensed the thing getting closer. Risking the pain, she stole a glance upwards. She saw it. Her eyes widened, her mouth gaped, her face frozen.

A seven-foot tall wooden gantry had been placed behind the post, a beam jutting out from the top of the upright and hanging over the Amazon. A winch was bolted to the upright at the halfway point. A chain ran from the winch up to, and then along, the beam, the links hanging over the end of the beam. Attached to the end of the chain was a manacle, the manacle in turn driven into a thick slab of oak three-foot long and six inches wide. An identical length of wood hung below the first piece, the two slabs held together by thick iron screws, one screw at each end of the slabs. Small handles that operated the screws sat on top of the upper slab.

As the vice was lowered, the two slabs of wood were held eighteen inches apart at the furthest point of the screws.

They brought the vice down level with Amphora's breasts. The Amazon fought, struggling again at the ropes and chains that tied her open and immobile. It was no use. She was held fast. Her breathing deepened. The rising and falling of her chest heightened the pain in her quivering tits.

Puno and Breet drew the instrument close to the warrior's chest so that her breasts were framed by the slabs, one above and one below her savaged orbs.

"Perfect," said Ennuta. "I can take it from here".

The men retreated and the female interrogator stood close to her victim, enjoying the fresh lines of sweat running down Amphora's taut body.

"Where's the Princess", said Ennuta. "Such a simple question".

Amphora looked away, a surge of anger and fear momentarily invigorating her.

Ennuta turned the two handles. The trap closed on the Amazon's battered globes. One slab pressed down against her swollen flesh while simultaneously the other pushed up. Amphora winced.

"You appear to be in pain," said the plain woman. "And I haven't started work yet. Again, the location of the Princess?"

The Amazon laid her head back against the post and closed her eyes.

Silence.

"I will apply the pressure," said the torturer, unable to hold back a smile. "And I will continue until you talk".

Adjusting the position of her feet, Ennuta turned the handles - slowly. The screws began to rotate and the slabs of oak moved closer. Within moments the vice had gripped Amphora's breasts hard. The inside edge of the wood slabs was rough, aggravating the welts and burns. Blood oozed from her right nipple dripping onto the lower slab.

The vice bit.

Amphora shrieked.

Ennuta stopped.

"Last chance," she said. "Tell me what you know".

The warrior clenched her teeth.

"You bitch," the Amazon hissed.

Ennuta tightened the screws. For five minutes she worked, relishing the new depths of Amphora's agony; the screams, the sweat, the blood.

When Ennuta had finished Amphora looked down at her chest. She could see her ample breasts flattened, tender flesh protruding from the sides of the vice. Her dark brown nipples stuck out from the front of the instrument, the pressure of the wood further discolouring her damaged globes. The tortured woman saw that her right nipple had been badly disfigured. She fought to hold back tears. She beat the back of her head against the post in frustration at her utter helplessness and humiliation. Her eyes were closed, her breathing had become shallow again, her hair lay matted with sweat against her shoulders.

"One last turn," said Ennuta.

The Amazon opened her eyes.

"Please no," Amphora implored, the words slipping out involuntarily. "Please".

"That's more like it," said Ennuta sensing victory. "I will free you with pleasure. But first I need some answers".

Amphora closed her eyes again. The words were on the tip of her tongue. But then she saw Sempha's face - it was a sunny day somewhere sometime that seemed an age ago – and she imagined the Princess taken by the Thoranians, and shivered at the thought of what they would do to her leader to extract information about the treasure.

She opened her eyes and glared at her interrogator, amber fire engaging dark hatred.

The gesture was enough.

Ennuta turned the screw a final time.

Two floors higher, through walls of solid granite, people heard the victim's screams.

* * *

Jemius and his men approached the Lynx. It had taken all his authority as a commander to prevent the soldiers from abusing their captive during the thirty-hour journey. But the order from the King had been clearly spelt out and the fear of punishment had kept their appetites in check. As they came within two hundred yards of the vessel the lookouts heralded their imminent arrival.

The ship's crew gathered at the side of the deck. Of the six groups that had left three had already returned, all empty-handed. Tevo had also arrived with news of the ambush and Haalet's capture. That left two groups; those led by Jemius, and Rufus.

Chrim walked ahead and the sailors cheered when they saw the blindfolded woman being dragged along behind him. They saw how she fought, her struggle intensifying the closer she came to the boat. For most of the men, this was only the second time they had ever seen an Amazon.

"She's magnificent," said Trem, the ship's bosun. Murmurs of agreement from the crowd on deck. Everyone was wondering if this was the Princess. On one hand they hoped she was – they'd be showered with praise if they brought home the ultimate trophy. On the other hand, if she were a mere foot soldier they would have a plaything for the return voyage. A win-win situation.

Tevo and Costall were in the Admiral's cabin discussing the crisis of Haalet's capture. Hearing the commotion outside they went to investigate. Looking down from the poop deck they saw Jemius's group arriving.

"Is that the Princess?" asked Costall.

"I don't know," said the Captain. "But I'm going to find out".

Tevo strode off towards the gangplank, the Admiral following.

* * *

It didn't take much to make him talk. A short while after the interrogation had started – and finished - Haalet was tied in the back of a cart being driven to Tolana's base. A band of Amazons provided an escort. They couldn't believe their luck. It seems they had captured a Prince.

* * *

They had left Amphora to her thoughts, her breasts crushed in the vice. Occasionally Ennuta returned to her victim. The torturer checked that the screws had not loosened and, if necessary, tightened them a notch or two. Amphora was conscious – just. Every time Ennuta made the adjustments fresh waves of pain brought the warrior back to lucidity.

"Remember Amphora," Ennuta said each time. "Talk and I will free you".

The Amazon would move her mouth in response but no words ever came out.

The interrogators left their subject in this wretched state for the remainder of the day.

* * *

The Captain congratulated Jemius's group.

"Good work men," he said, shaking Pilo's hand. "You will be handsomely rewarded".

"It was Chrim's lasso," said Pilo modestly.

"How will we know if she's the Princess?" asked Chrim. The crowd was silent. This was the question on everyone's lips.

Glaina stood proud, her blindfold somehow adding to her presence. The sound of waves, voices, and flapping sails disorientated her. She sweated from the rigours of the journey. The pace had been fast demanding energy and concentration to keep her footing on the uneven ground.

Tevo circled the prisoner looking for clues to her identity. She sensed the man and tried to follow him with her head.

"Remove her gag," said the Captain.

Pilo untied the rope and she spat out the rag. She flung back her head, the end of her flame-orange hair blowing in the fresh breeze.

"I am Princess Sempha," she said. "Release me".

The men laughed at her audacious request.

The Captain came to stand in front of the woman. Her beauty certainly matched the reputation that preceded the Princess. He doubted that she would identify herself so freely but he knew of her cunning and, by drawing attention to herself, she would draw the heat from any prisoners the Thoranians might have taken.

"Prove it," said Tevo. "Tell us where the treasure is hidden".

"I cannot tell you that," said Glaina. "Free me before my forces arrive or risk certain death".

The men laughed again, this time an unease in their mirth. They saw her strength and admired her pride.

"She reminds me of the other one," said one of the sailors.

"What other one?"

"The woman strapped to the log," he said. "She has the same…..the same…..attitude".

"Are your troops nearby?" Tevo asked the woman, well aware that Rufus's group had yet to return.

"Yes," said Glaina. "Many of them. Untie me and I will allow you to leave".

Releasing her was out of the question. But he had insufficient soldiers to fight off a large Amazon force. And he couldn't depart until Rufus's group was safely on board.

He studied their captive. The Captain knew that the Amazons were a tall beautiful race; that many of them were as remarkable as the woman standing before him. He lingered, enjoying her powerful body, his pleasure heightened by the sight of this muscular creature tamed.

Something about her seemed familiar; something he couldn't quite place.

"How do I know you are who you claim to be?" asked Tevo.

"Do you want to wait until my army arrives to find out?" she replied.

The Captain felt the eyes of his soldiers boring into him. The men were enthralled by this intriguing game of wits. He looked up at the flags flying from the masts, the Minotaur's head plain for all to see. Then it came to him – a recognition from another place a few days earlier.

He walked up to the Amazon.

"Hold her," he ordered. A man gripped each of her arms, two others drew their swords.

"Chrim," said Tevo. "Pass me that decoration on her arm".

Glaina struggled against the men. Pilo grabbed her from behind, his forearm around her throat. Chrim removed the serpent.

Tevo read the inscription etched into the gold and pocketed the band. He turned to address the waiting throng.

"This is Glaina," he said, his arm spread back towards her. "The second of the Princess's notorious bodyguards". The men cheered. The Amazon struggled, her heart pounding.

"She is your reward for the journey home," he continued. Cries of delight went up from the soldiers and crew. Tevo held up his arms and the crowd hushed.

"We cannot stay for long. We will wait for Rufus to return and then we must set sail. Now that we have both her bodyguards, it cannot be long before the dungeon master is able to tell us where to find the Princess".

He paused.

"Take her away".

Men surrounded Glaina. Hands grabbed at her body. She tried to stand her ground but found herself propelled towards the ship. Trem ran down the gangplank and grabbed the end of the lasso.

"Hello my beauty," he said, his breath foul against her face. She turned away.

"Leave me alone you scum," she yelled.

"Am I not good enough for a Princess?" he said, grinning from ear to ear. Laughter from the others.

"This way," he whispered, pulling on the leash. "Welcome on board. I think you'll enjoy the journey home".

He hauled her up the gangway and onto the ship, men pushing from behind as she fought blind against the gang. Clammy hands pawed at her thighs and arms. She was powerless to prevent them. They pulled the struggling Amazon towards an open hatch and took her below deck.

* * *

Half an hour later, while the crew was distracted preparing Glaina for the voyage back to Thorania, and Amphora knelt helpless in the grip of the vice, the last of the groups arrived back at the Lynx. Rufus walked ahead; his four colleagues followed carrying a long thin tree trunk, two men at each end. A tall supremely beautiful woman was tied to the pole, her wrists, ankles, and waist, roped to the wood. The group leader eagerly anticipated the Captain's reaction to his trophy. Rufus reached inside his pocket and fingered the puma's head. For the hundredth time he recalled her eyes – the palest blue he'd ever seen. He had one thing in common with the dungeon master. They both adored blondes.

To be continued……..

* * *

The following totally fictitious writings of M Coolham are intended for the sole readership of those of LEGAL AGE. The ADULT ONLY material contained within is also for personal use only where local standards permit scenes of violence, torture and sex. Please do not read further if any of these subjects offend, or if you are not of legal age.

This is a work of fiction. The author does not condone violence of any sort.

The following is under Copyright and is for your sole enjoyment. Your cooperation in not using the material in any other application without the express permission of the author is requested. Thank you.

Interrogation of an Amazon

CHAPTER SEVEN

Journey

Glaina had been taken to the sailor's recreation quarters, a long room that stretched the length of the ship. Soldiers and crewmen jostled for space on the crowded deck, the Amazon standing in the centre of the throng. The air was stale, rank with the stench of unwashed bodies. Hammocks strung from oak beams used every available inch of the ceiling. Both of the boat's masts passed through the room acting as supports. Cannons ran along the walls, four each side, their barrels pointing outwards through open portholes. The floor was littered with pieces of rope, dirty clothing, shoes, and other personal possessions. Swords, bows, arrows, and knives were stored in an arsenal at the rear. Rats cowered in the corners.

Evening was drawing in and lanterns had been lit. The oil lamps hung from the rafters, their black smoke clogging the atmosphere.

"There's something familiar about you," said Trem, the ship's bos'un. He moved closer to the Amazon. "Have we met before?'

The blindfolded woman looked in the direction of the voice. The lasso had been removed but her wrists and elbows remained tied.

"Hey," said Trem, pulling at the warrior's hair. "I'm talking to you".

Glaina shook her head disgusted by his touch.

"If we had I'd have killed you," she spat.

"Mmmm. Feisty!" said Trem, smiling. "Nice".

The men looked on. None wished to interrupt the fearsome bos'un.

Trem turned to face the audience.

"Who else thinks they've seen her before?" he asked, his arms spread wide, always the showman.

A voice from the back. "She resembles that woman in the square".

Another from the left. "You mean the bitch who squealed when she was whipped?"

The voice from the back again. "Yes. Her hair's different, but she's got the same body".

It pained Glaina to hear them talk. She knew they referred to her twin.

Trem looked back at the Amazon.

"Have you a sister my pretty friend?" he asked.

She looked away, but the bos'un had noticed the change in her mouth.

"That other bodyguard's your sister isn't she?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.

No reaction from Glaina.

He continued to taunt her.

"The one who was stripped and left to bake in the sun. She's your sister!!"

He sensed a chink in her armour.

"I hear she stood up well to being beaten". He was on a roll. "She was silent during her whipping but shrieked like a stuck pig when that bastard poured vinegar into her wounds".

The Amazon fought to retain her self-control. This was harder to bear than any physical punishment.

Trem picked up a wooden club from the floor.

"Goodness knows what ordeals she's been put through since she was snared," he continued, poking her in the stomach with the club's handle. "She's the dungeon master's favourite type. All breasts and muscle. Imagine, perhaps she's writhing in agony as we stand here. Probably begging for mercy".

He laughed. The others were silent.

"Going to rescue her are you?'

He pushed the woman against one of the masts. She stumbled on a piece of rope but managed to hold her footing.

"Next stop for your sister will be the soldiers' harem. And when we get back I'm going to be first in line".

Glaina lunged at the man, kicking out in his direction. He guessed she'd snap and was ready for her, sidestepping away from her foot.

"Untie me, coward," she hissed. "Let me see you. Call yourself a man. Fight me one on one".

"Later," he said, smacking the club against her thigh more as a tease than in anger. "We have other entertainment first".

Trem turned to Wex, his number two.

"Bring over one of the cannons", he said. "Position it here". He pointed to a spot in the middle of the room. "Where everyone can see".

* * *

The men were tired. They had carried Sempha for two days. Rufus noticed that the upper deck was empty. Only the lookout, positioned in the crows nest that topped the principle mast, saw the group arrive. Rufus waved to his colleague who reciprocated, the sailor too high up to get a good look at the bound woman. The sentry could see that she was blonde, and clothed, but little else.

The group leader walked up the gangplank and down into the ship heading towards the Admiral's cabin. He heard sounds of an excited crowd coming from the sailors' quarters but was not distracted from his mission. Rufus rapped on the door.

"Enter".

He walked over the threshold. Tevo and Costall turned around, anxiety on their faces, both men preoccupied with how to break the news to Nemo of his son's capture.

"Welcome back," said Tevo. "Have you anything to report?"

"I have something for you", said Rufus. "I think you should come and see".

"What is it?" said Costall. "We're very busy. Can it wait?"

Rufus pulled out the headband and threw it onto the table. It landed with a clunk. The puma's sapphire eyes glistened in the lamplight.

The Captain reached for the jewelry.

"Where did you get this?" asked Tevo, sweat beading his upper lip.

"From our prisoner," said Rufus, smiling.

"Let me see that," said the Admiral. He studied the cat. "It has to be her". Both the senior officers knew that bringing home the ultimate prize might appease the King so that he'd spare their lives.

"Is she here?" said Tevo not daring to believe that the Princess might have been taken.

"Like I said," said Rufus, stretching out his moment of glory. "I have something for you".

Costall and Tevo fell over each other in their rush for the door.

* * *

Trem watched while six men used all their strength to haul a gun carriage into the centre of the room, the oak wheels thundering. The whole deck shuddered, its planks protesting at the cannon's weight. Glaina could only guess at what was happening. Her heart pounded at the thought of what these animals might have planned for her.

The six sailors stood up wiping their brows and stepped back to admire the beast. Its presence was awesome. The head of a Minotaur stared out from the black wrought-iron barrel, the raised design adorning the top of the gun midway down its length. The barrel overhung the carriage by four feet and ran parallel to the deck. It took two men to lift the nine-inch diameter balls that the monster fired.

"Hold her," said Trem. Hands grabbed her arms, the men enjoying her young flesh. Trem stepped forward brandishing a knife.

"Scum," she snarled.

"Mind your tongue, bitch," he barked.

Trem placed the knife in her cleavage. The warrior felt the cold steel against her ample breasts and held her breath.

There was no sound from the crowd.

He pulled the blade towards him.

Snick.

The laces gave way, her jerkin falling forward.

The bos'un slipped the dagger into its sheath. He gripped the flaps of her jerkin and ripped open her garment. Her breasts spilled out. The men gaped.

"Remove it," he ordered. Glaina fought as the sailors tugged at her jerkin. Within moments it lay in pieces around her feet.

She struggled against the ropes and the men holding her arms, her muscles straining, her stomach taut, her breasts swaying vigorously.

Trem wolf-whistled. The crew looked on in amazement. They had seen her sister paraded and whipped but most of them had witnessed the show from a distance, the crowd had been so large. Now they saw an Amazon close up. They marveled at her muscular torso, her flawless bronze skin, her wide shoulders and tapered waist. Their eyes fixed on her remarkable breasts, her light brown nipples hard and prominent.

"Let's play catch," said Trem, his mouth an evil grin. "Release her".

The men retreated and she stood alone, her muscled thighs working with the deck's gentle movement. The rope around her wrists and elbows bit into her flesh. She clenched and unclenched her fists to keep the blood flowing.

A man shoved her from behind and she lurched towards Trem. He caught the Amazon, his hands gripping her powerful shoulders. They were the same height, their faces inches apart. He gnashed his teeth, pretending to bite her cheek. The men laughed. He spun the captive around and threw her back at the crew. She fell into the arms of Wex and Lipus, Trem's cousin.

Wex held her while Lipus ran his tongue down her chest, licking the sweat from between her breasts. They swapped positions. Wex nibbled her ear.

"I'm going to have you," he said under his breath, singsong in his voice.

Before she could react he'd smacked her thigh and handed her on.

For twenty minutes they pushed their helpless victim from man to man. They pawed at her body, held her, smelt her, and passed her on. They taunted her with jibes at Amphora, mauled her half-naked body, pulled her hair, slapped her quivering breasts, laughed when she stumbled blindfolded against obstacles underfoot, and teased her about what was to follow. Tied and surrounded, she was powerless to stop the abuse. She finished up held by Lipus again.

"Enjoy that, bitch?" he asked, laughing and squeezing her nipples.

Trem stood in front of her. The Amazon was breathing heavily, her muscled torso wet with sweat.

"Let's see those pretty eyes of yours," said the bos'un and pulled off her blindfold. The warrior blinked and flung back her curly dark-orange hair.

"Green," he smiled. "My favourite colour".

He stood admiring her face, their eyes locked.

"Strip her," he said calmly, retaining eye contact.

Instantly the sailors were all over her, ripping at her skirt and pulling off her boots. Moments later she stood naked but for the tease of her tiny white panties. The crew looked on, entranced by her muscular thighs. They looked forward to their promised reward.

"Prepare her," hissed Trem.

* * *

Tevo ran down the gangplank towards the four men, the corpulent figure of the Admiral a pace behind. Even from this distance they could see that the woman tied to the pole was beyond merely another stunning Amazon specimen. She was beautiful in a way they had never seen before. Her thick blonde hair swung in the wind framing and reframing her face. That she wore a gag somehow added to her appeal.

Rufus joined them.

Tevo and Costall inspected her briefly. The Captain wasted no time.

"Take her to the Admiral's cabin", he ordered, "and secure her".

The soldiers turned and walked in the direction of the Lynx.

"One more thing," said Tevo, his voice raised. The men stopped.

"You will all be rewarded handsomely. The work you have done here is of the highest order. I offer you my heartfelt congratulations".

Smiles from the men.

" I must ask of you a special favour". Tevo looked at each member of the group in turn. "I want her capture kept a secret. In fact I will double your reward if you keep this news between us. Everyone will know soon enough, but I need to extract maximum benefit from this remarkable development. Trust me please".

"Yes sir," they replied grinning, and walked on.

Tevo turned to the Admiral.

"Time to leave," said the Captain. "Let's get out of here before reinforcements arrive".

Sempha struggled as they approached the boat. Her heart pounded. Her face reddened.

"Nnnnggghhhh".

The truth had sunk in. Her worst nightmare had begun to unfold.

* * *

Glaina was pulled over to the gun carriage, two men on each arm. Another stood ready with a knife and freed her wrists and elbows. They sensed she'd fight the moment she was free and prepared themselves. Their hunch was right. As soon as the ropes fell away she lurched forward, fists clenched. A man tackled her. He fell, his jaw broken. She grabbed Lipus and flung him to the deck, her hands clasped around his throat. He thrashed about in protest while she increased the pressure. His eyes widened, the veins in his neck protruding vividly.

"Get her off me," he rasped.

Men piled on top of her. Their numbers were overwhelming and she was subdued.

The onlookers watched her muscles flex, the sinews stretching beneath her smooth skin They envied the men who fought her, her writhing giving the thugs fresh reason to paw her vulnerable body.

The gang threw her down against the cannon, her back against the gun, her head hanging upside-down off the end of the barrel. She was winded by the impact. Sailors tied her wrists under the barrel, her elbows too. Others drove hooks into the deck either side of the cannon's base, the sound of their hammering a crescendo in the confined space.

More men grabbed the Amazon's legs and forced them apart, one on each ankle, one on each calf. They wound rope around her ankles, tying the ends to the newly prepared hooks. Trem and his crew looked on, licking their lips in anticipation of her final reveal. The warrior fought her aggressors, her thighs rock hard as she struggled against her legs being spread.

"Wider," said Trem, calmly. "Much wider".

They circled her thighs with rope and pulled the ends to manacles located on each side of the deck. The sailors fed the cords through the metal hoops and tugged until her legs were spread cruelly wide. The helpless woman screamed, her flesh puckered where the hemp bit into her hamstrings. By the time they had finished their victim was tied fast to the cannon, an open invitation.

Trem walked up to the Amazon and took a moment to admire her irresistible body. With her head hanging off the end of the barrel her stomach became concave. She raised her head to confront him. Ridges of muscle punctuated the centre of her abdomen like a range of shallow hillocks.

"Are you so pathetic with women that you have to tie them up first?"

He smashed his fist into her unprotected belly. Glaina gasped, her head falling backwards.

"There's more where that came from miss pretty," he barked.

The bos'un walked around and stood between her legs. He reached down and ripped off her panties, the skimpy material offering no resistance.

He grinned.

"I've never had a redhead. I guess there's a first time for everything".

Laughter from the audience.

He pocketed her underwear; a souvenir.

The bos'un dropped his trousers, his belt buckle clattering against the floor. He stroked his rigid cock and pointed it at her crack.

"Time for an outing my trusted friend," he said, a smirk on his lips.

"Come near me with that filthy thing and I'll make sure you'll never be able to use it again," she yelled.

"We'll see about that," he smirked.

He stood poised, his legs spread wide, his member ready at her entrance.

With his hands grasping her breasts for support, in one gigantic thrust he penetrated the bound warrior. Brute strength forced him past her dryness.

"Ahhhh," he grinned. "So tight".

Trem pumped hard. Her breasts jiggled against his palms with each stroke. Within moments he was spent, a roar escaping from his throat - his face ecstatic. He withdrew.

Glaina lay sweating, her head back, her long copper-coloured hair brushing against the deck.

"And now the other end," he said. The bos'un walked around to her head, his semi-erect member dripping sticky white fluid.

He knelt down and grabbed her hair, forcing her head backwards. Her face was upside down, her complexion flushed. She closed her mouth.

"If your teeth so much as glance against me," he hissed, "I'll give you a beating the like of which you can't imagine. Now open up".

Glaina kept her lips sealed. Her chest rose and fell, her breathing deep, her breasts quivering provocatively. She struggled to get free but her efforts were futile. The ropes had cut into her wrists and elbows. Vicious sores had appeared around her ankles.

SLAP.

His open palm connected with her cheek, her head held in place with his other hand.

Her mouth stayed closed.

SLAP. SLAP. SLAP.

Forehand, backhand, forehand.

Her face stung, his blows accurate and rough.

For Trem this had become a matter of principle. She could not be seen to win in front of his crew.

"Wex".

His number two picked up a club and stood between her legs. She blinked, her heart pounding.

"I said, OPEN".

Nothing, her lips white.

Trem looked up.

SMACK.

Wex smashed the club onto her inner thigh.

She winced. But her lips stayed firmly together.

The bos'un nodded.

SMACK.

Wex beat her again, the wood connecting with her other thigh.

"Don't stop," said Trem through gritted teeth.

With the eighth blow Glaina shrieked. Trem was fully erect, the sight of her in pain exciting him. He seized the opportunity.

"AAArgghnnnngghh". His monstrous penis throttled her scream.

He drove deep into her mouth and felt his end contacting the back of her throat. She wretched, his smell abhorrent, his phallus coarse against her tongue, his testicles bashing against her nose. The warrior closed her eyes and tried to divert her thoughts.

He thrust. He groaned. She waited.

He thrust harder. He groaned louder. She waited.

He thrust faster. He groaned longer. She waited.

Suddenly he stopped as if suspended, his expression frozen. This was her moment. She clamped her teeth onto his cock and bit hard.

Trem bellowed and fell backwards onto the deck. A mixture of semen and blood seeped through his fingers covering his wounded penis.

The audience was too shocked to react.

The bos'un lay writhing on the floor.

"Try that again and I'll separate you from that puny cock of yours, scum," she snarled. She raised her head to address the throng. "And that goes for the rest of you vermin".

* * *

"A Prince!" said Tolana, chief of the Amazon army, smiling for the first time in days.

"I know," said Lema. "It's incredible".

"What else?" asked Tolana.

"I can tell you the Thoranians have no plans to invade Lumana," said Lema. "You can stand down the army. The men with the Prince had come to find Sempha".

"Thank goodness you thwarted them," said Tolana. "Come inside and tell me everything you know".

The two Amazons went into Tolana's private tent where they could talk privately.

"Has Cercia left yet?" asked Lema.

"Yes", replied Tolana. "She left with her group two days ago at sunset".

"Do you think they'll succeed with the rescue?" asked Lema.

Tolana looked away. "Twenty Amazons against the Thoranian masses? It will be hard. But Cercia's the cleverest strategist I know. Anything could happen".

"Can we do anything to help?" asked Lema.

"I would summon our army and follow," said Tolana, "especially as it now appears the troops are not needed here. But the constitution states that only the Princess can command the army into battle on foreign soil. While there is hope that Amphora is still alive, I will not risk drawing attention to Sempha's hiding place by sending messengers to the Princess".

"I understand," said Lema.

Tolana thought for a moment.

"Maybe I could risk a visit to the Princess up at the Sycamore Caves," she said. "Me alone - perhaps with one other for safety?"

"That is for you to decide," said Lema. "Although the situation is unbearable for Amphora, at least Sempha and Glaina are safe".

"Yes," said Tolana. "I dare not imagine what they would do to Sempha were she to be captured".

Both women shuddered.

* * *

Sempha was tied to a chair in the Admiral's cabin. Guards had been posted outside the door. The Lynx was under full sail heading back to Thorania.

"If you allow anyone past this door bar me and the Captain you will be flogged to death. Do I make myself clear?"

The three men had nodded, noticing a fresh intensity in the Admiral's eyes.

Tevo and Costall studied their prisoner. The Princess's arms were tied together behind the chair. Her ankles had been roped to the back legs of the chair forcing her legs slightly apart. Ropes criss-crossed her chest parting her breasts. They had left her gagged. The chair had been bolted to the deck.

The officers studied their captive. She stared straight ahead. The men took in her jasmine scent, the shine of her hair cascading down her back, her smooth muscled limbs. They stared at her cleavage, her voluptuous breasts thrusting against her laced jerkin. But it was her face that most intrigued them. Both men were accustomed to socializing with Thoranian nobility; they had witnessed great beauty on many occasions. But none of those women came close to the vision they saw before them. Her translucent skin, pronounced cheekbones, small ears, and fine nose suggested a purity of lineage far beyond anything the Thoranians could produce. And her eyes. Not of this earth. Feline like the puma, pale blue like rare diamonds, mesmerizing and unsettling.

"So, this is the famous Princess Sempha!" said Tevo, smiling. "The reputation of your beauty precedes you and, if I may say, you do not disappoint".

The bound woman remained motionless, her mind racing.

"I hope you're looking forward to telling the King everything about the treasure," said Costall. "I advise you to cooperate. I can only imagine what the dungeon master is doing to your precious Amphora as we speak. I know that torturing your bodyguard's delicious body brought him great pleasure. He would greet the prospect of interrogating you with unbridled ecstasy".

She turned and glared at the Admiral.

He walked around to stand behind the Princess and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "I wonder if you'll be so haughty once you've been interrogated".

* * *

It took quite some time for Trem to regain his feet. The onlookers stepped back as he staggered forward, spit falling from his mouth, his eyes watering, his face crimson.

The wounded bos'un stood next to the tied Amazon, her body slick with sweat.

He pointed to a cauldron.

"Fill it," he whispered.

* * *

"Where is the Prince now," asked Tolana.

"Tied up under the apple tree," replied Lema. "The women are using him for sport".

"Let them finish," said Tolana. "Then prepare him for a journey".

* * *

By the time the tar had come to the boil, the room was full of smoke. The stench from the thick black pitch ate at their throats. Sailors came and went as duty called on the upper deck but otherwise they stayed, fascinated by how their feared master would take revenge on the struggling beauty.

Glaina had guessed his plan the moment she had first smelt the oil, the sound of its bubbling ominous. Her body was open to abuse, her legs spread, her arms tied, her generous breasts unprotected. She knew he'd punish her if she bit him, but she had calculated that humiliation of their leader was the cruelest blow she could inflict. For her, even torture was better than gang rape. She knew they would not kill her; that if Amphora had not yet broken she would be interrogated for news of the Princess's whereabouts. Despite her appalling predicament, Glaina's heart rose at the thought of Sempha walking free - a consequence of the escape plan enacted in the forest.

The warrior clenched her teeth and prayed for strength.

* * *

Sempha's eyes widened. She and the two officers turned their heads in the direction of the sailors' quarters from where the sound had come. The scream was definitely female. The bastards were torturing one of her people and she was helpless to prevent it.

Another scream, higher-pitched than the first.

Her eyes narrowed. Costall noticed her reaction. He sensed an opportunity.

"I can make them stop if you tell me where we'll find the treasure," he said.

She glared at him. Her nostrils flared.

"Nod your head and I'll remove the gag for you," the Admiral said again.

Another scream pierced the walls.

"That sound has passed through two solid-oak decks, " said Tevo. "Imagine what it must be like close up".

The officers smiled.

This time they could make out words.

"PLEASE. NO MORE".

A wave smacked against the boat.

"AAARRRGGGHHH".

For the first time in their presence, the Princess struggled against her bonds, her blonde hair flying, her breasts shaking in her jerkin.

Sempha yelled something but the sound was muffled and ineffective.

"Shall we tell them to stop?" asked Costall.

* * *

Trem dipped the iron cup into the smoldering cauldron for the fifth time. The heat seared his eyebrows. He stood back and let the ladle fill.

He looked down at Glaina, the vat by her side. He had access to all of her magnificent body. Blood dripped from her wrists and elbows, the wounds amplified by her struggling. Her ankles also bled. The ropes holding her thighs threatened to cut into her firm flesh. Streams of sweat ran off her torso mixing with the blood on the deck.

She breathed in fits and starts, her ribcage expanding and contracting periodically. Trem's semen leaked from between her spread legs. Her head was back, her hair against the floor. Her eyes were closed, her expression one of shock infused with agony. She had expected pain but nothing on this scale.

A pool of thick black tar sat in her belly button and overflowed down her sides congealing over her kidneys. More of the foul muck streaked her inner thighs.

The bos'un brought up the full cup and held it above her body. She sensed more was to come and raised her head, the muscles in her stomach tensing into ridges. This was what he had waited for. He delivered the scalding liquid directly in the centre of her abdomen, her muscles providing a valley in which the pitch could flow. She leaned back her head and shrieked, her wail tripling in volume as her belly became concave and the pitch ran off her sides. The molten liquid peeled off her skin leaving raw flesh in its wake.

Trem placed the scoop back in the cauldron and came round to her head. He knelt down and grabbed her hair. He shook her head from side to side.

"Apologise bitch," he hissed.

She winced.

He put his mouth to her ear. "I want to hear you beg".

She turned away but he yanked her head back to face him.

The Amazon gritted her teeth.

"I owe you nothing, you bastard," she hissed.

He flung back her head.

"Say goodbye to your nipples," he whispered.

The Amazon bucked and wrestled but in vain. The only effect was added amusement for the audience, the sailors commenting on her wobbling breasts. They enjoyed the sight of a powerful woman being tamed.

The bos'un returned to the vat. He stirred the pitch.

"Just waiting for it to boil again," he said, nonchalantly.

He brought up the cup and held it over her, this time above her right tit. The Amazon tugged at her bonds, trying to force her body sideways away from under the ladle. She grunted with the exertion. She was held fast.

Trem rotated his arm. The seething liquid oozed off the scoop, hung in a long drip – and fell directly onto her defenseless nipple.

* * *

A hysterical shriek invaded the relative peace of the Admirals' cabin.

The men winced. The Princess flushed. It was too much for her to bear.

Sempha nodded.

"Want to talk?" asked Tevo, his voice rising an octave.

She nodded again, her eyes pleading.

"Want us to stop the games next door?"

"yyyuuussss", she yelled, her cry muffled.

Costall stood behind the Princess and unknotted the rope. She spat out the gag.

"ME", she yelled. "Do it to me. Free her".

They laughed.

"Yes your majesty".

"Do it NOW," she yelled.

"Sempha," said Tevo, his hand on his belly. "You don't rule here. Worry not. You'll have your turn soon enough".

Another shriek, the worst yet. Glaina's other nipple was scorched.

"Please", said Sempha, struggling against the ropes. "Stop them".

Tevo knelt down and leaned close to her face while the Admiral replaced her gag.

"Once you're chained in the dungeon I gather we all get a chance with you. Here's what I'm going to do to you with my half hour of fun".

He put his mouth close to her ear and whispered six choice words.

She gulped.

* * *

Cercia looked around and noticed a rocky overhang. She raised her hand and turned to face her troops.

"We'll camp over there," she said, pointing.

The leader watched while the group made preparations. At five foot seven she was small by Amazon standards. She wore her fawn-coloured hair short and freckles covered her pretty face. Her breasts were regular in size, pert and shapely. What she lacked in height she made up for in personality; she was bubbly yet assertive. The oldest of the team at twenty-nine, her experience in special operations was invaluable.

Cercia was visibly moved at the way her team pulled together. Not for the first time she congratulated herself on her selection of warriors. Hundreds had volunteered for the rescue mission; she had chosen just twenty – the very best of the best. All in their mid-twenties, they were the strongest, the fastest, the most vicious, and the most cunning women she knew. Each of these Amazons was worth ten Thoranian foot soldiers.

She had just sat down when she heard a voice nearby. "How long till we reach the fortress?"

Cercia looked up and saw Neepa, her second in command. The two Amazons had been close friends since childhood. Neepa was Tolana's younger sister.

"Hello," said Cercia. "Come and sit for a moment".

Neepa adjusted her scabbard and sat down.

"Another two days and we should be able to see the castle," said Cercia.

Both women knew that the group could have covered the ground in an eighth of the time on horseback. But the element of surprise was crucial to the mission and it had been agreed that an approach by foot was the only tactic that would succeed. Everyone was anxious to rescue Amphora as quickly as possible. "But better late than never," as Tolana had reminded them.

"Which route have you planned for us?" asked Neepa.

"There are two ways we could go," replied Cercia. "I've chosen the westerly approach. The land is forested; the cover's thicker. We're less likely to be detected. And the river will act as our guide. What do you think?"

"I agree," said Neepa. "Excellent choice".

"Good," said Cercia, standing up. "Let's eat!"

* * *

They used Glaina.

For two days solid, the whole journey home, the men took turns with her. At busy times they queued. Those who wished to take their time chose the early hours because demand for her was less, most of the men asleep, their appetites satiated. Every four hours or so the Amazon was released only to be retied the other way, her chest against the barrel, her breasts hanging down either side of the gun. Those who preferred to come from behind then had their chance. And, when sufficient men requested, she was turned again.

By the end of the first day she was so raw that all feeling had left her. For Glaina, the gang rape was dehumanizing; cruel beyond words. But worse than being violated was the humiliation; the games, the words, the perversions, the hideous foreplay. Some slapped her breasts, some ran their fingers over her flesh where the skin had been burned away, some bit on her charred nipples. They taunted her with glimpses of Amphora. "Perhaps she's squealing right this minute?" "I bet he raped her too". "Give me a day with her and here's what I'd do….….." the remainder of those sentences blocked from her conscious.

The first time that a man had knelt and gently licked the folds of skin between her legs, she had sensed a kindness and momentarily relaxed. She soon learnt. He had been the roughest of them all, pounding mercilessly against her pelvic bone.

Two had chosen to eat her; to suck and bite her swollen labia.

The ultimate humiliation was from those who splattered her face – and her hair. Streaks of semen clogged her eyelids, ran into her nose, and lay matted in her hair. Five of the thugs had held a competition. While four had held her head, one had aimed his load directly at her face; the man who had achieved the greatest coverage declared the winner.

But not one of them dared put his cock in her mouth. In that way she had made her mark.

* * *

Sentries kept watch for the small band of warriors. Cercia slept while she could. She was on guard duty in an hour.

Neepa, too, wanted to rest. But first she needed to write a note.

* * *

Amphora had been chained to the floor, her limbs spread out. It was Puno's turn. He approached the sleeping prisoner, taking in her beauty. Scars and scratches marked her damaged breasts, her ruined nipple caked in blood. Her chest rose and fell gently, the decoration on her face hardly discernible. His heart quickened. His moment with her had arrived.

Puno looked around searching for Ennuta.

"Has my order arrived yet?" he asked, seeing her near the dungeon door.

The small woman glanced down and saw a slip of paper. She picked it up.

"Yes," she said. "It's in the chamber".

The man walked over to the far side of the room and pulled back the curtain. There were three big boxes on the floor. He smiled.

He brought the boxes into the dungeon and redrew the curtain.

"Everyone," he called. "I want to show you something".

With his colleagues gathered round he opened the lid of the first box. Ennuta put her hand to her face, her eyes wide. Breet gasped. Clen's mouth fell. The dungeon master grinned.

Puno opened the second box. The onlookers stepped backwards.

He revealed the third box. The four people stood aghast.

The dungeon master broke the silence.

"Nice idea", he said, slapping his accomplice on the back.

"How long do you think she'll last?" Puno asked.

They each proffered a guess.

"An hour," said Ennuta.

"Twenty minutes," said Clen.

"I give her less," said Puno, and set to work.

To be continued……..

* * *

The following totally fictitious writings of M Coolham are intended for the sole readership of those of LEGAL AGE. The ADULT ONLY material contained within is also for personal use only where local standards permit scenes of violence, torture and sex. Please do not read further if any of these subjects offend, or if you are not of legal age.

This is a work of fiction. The author does not condone violence of any sort.

The following is under Copyright and is for your sole enjoyment. Your cooperation in not using the material in any other application without the express permission of the author is requested. Thank you.

Interrogation of an Amazon

CHAPTER EIGHT

Arrival

"Land up ahead!"

The Admiral joined Tevo on deck. The familiar sight of the Thoranian shoreline greeted them.

"Another couple of hours and we'll be at the dockside," said Costall.

"We must be sure to make the most of our arrival," said the Captain. "Here's what I think we should do".

Tevo told Costall his plan, the fat man nodding in agreement.

"Trem," the Admiral called out.

The bos'un came up from below looking bleary-eyed.

"Sir?"

"Drop anchor half a mile out," said Costall. "Send a rowing boat ashore and alert the King to our impending arrival. Tell him - tell everyone: 'be prepared to witness a once-in-a-lifetime vision'".

* * *

An hour and a half later people started to gather at the dockside. Nemo ordered a position to be reserved for him on the battlements overlooking the port.

It was warm, a refreshing breeze coming off the sea. The sun had risen three hours earlier and had chased away the clouds. It was as if the sky was joining in the party.

"There she is!" a sentry exclaimed.

Everyone strained to see, looking in the direction he was pointing.

The Lynx came into view, its sails billowing, the wind tugging at the flags that topped the masts, the Minotaur heads still pinpricks in the distance.

* * *

Below decks Glaina slept soundly. Since dawn the sailors had been preparing the ship for its arrival. For the first time since departing Lumana she had been left in peace.

* * *

"Strip," said Tevo, smacking his hand on the table.

Sempha stood motionless.

The boat was at anchor swaying gently. The wind had died down. The only sound in the Admiral's cabin was of the men breathing heavily. Drops of sweat dotted their upper lips.

"Strip I said," Tevo raising his voice. "Or do you need some help from the crew?"

The Princess stood in the centre of the room. Extra soldiers guarded the door, Rufus and his number two inside the cabin, the remainder outside.

Rufus wiped his sleeve across his mouth conscious of the bulge in his trousers. All four men wrestled with their composure.

Sempha knew that dignity was surprisingly powerful; a weapon with which she was amply blessed.

"Keep your men at bay," she said. "I will do as you ask".

The senior officers sat and watched in calm anticipation, the guards' faces less controlled. Four pairs of eyes stared at the blonde woman. Four hearts started to quicken.

She bent down, undid the bow at the top of her boots, and unpicked the pale-brown laces that criss-crossed her shins. Sempha removed her dark brown knee-length calfskin boots using the heels for leverage. She placed them neatly by the table. The men noticed the gold polish decorating her toenails, matching that of her fingernails.

Next her brown leather skirt. She looked down to her side and felt for the buckle. She drew the leather through the clasp and allowed the material to fall at her feet. As she stepped to one side, the men noticed the muscles working in her long shapely legs, her buttocks wobbling gently. Her green sleeveless jerkin came down to her hipbones revealing her sheer white panties, held together on both sides by bright silver ringlets. The Princess picked up the skirt, folded it, and placed it on the table above her boots.

Sempha looked down at her chest and unthreaded the laces that held her cotton jerkin closed. She coiled them carefully and placed them next to her skirt. Like a practiced seductress the Princess gripped the bottom of her jerkin, her arms crossed, and in one slow steady movement pulled the material up her body and over her head.

For weeks to come the men replayed the action in their minds, slowing down the sequence to appreciate every nuance. They remembered her intake of breath, her expanded chest, the jerkin rising up her torso, the display of her concave abdomen. Then the reveal of her breasts, the hem catching on her prominent pink nipples causing her tits to bounce and sway. They recalled her thick yellow hair, trapped in the material as her arms reached upwards. Again and again they re-ran the woman drawing the top up over her head and off to her right, her shiny hair escaping the jerkin's clutches and falling down across her shoulders. Even now, weeks later, they flushed when they re-visited the sight of her hair being flung back, her breasts jiggling, her sinews like a sculpture outlined beneath smooth bronze skin.

She folded her jerkin and placed it by her skirt. Sempha looked at the Admiral, over to the Captain, and back to the Admiral.

"I'll be back for these," she said purposefully.

The men were unable to retain eye contact with her. They swallowed, intimidated by the supremely beautiful woman standing before them, her breathing measured, her demeanor calm. All they wanted was to feel her toned arms, run their hands across her flat stomach, kiss her full lips, stroke her stupendous breasts, inhale her scent, and press their lions against her muscled thighs.

RAT-TAT-TAT

A knock at the door snapped them out of their reverie.

"What is it?" asked Costall.

"The men are ready," replied Trem from the other side of the door.

"Thank you bos'un," said the Admiral. "We'll be out in a minute".

It took all their discipline not to throw the regal temptress to the floor and spread her wide - take turns with her body. But duty called. She was the prize that would appease the King.

"Tie her hands," said Tevo, reluctantly.

Rufus stepped forward. Without being asked the Princess placed her arms behind her back and he tied her wrists together. He lingered, taking in her powerful shoulders and the lines of muscle that ran down each side of her spine. The sight of matching dimples just above her firm buttocks rewarded him.

The soldier tied the knots extra tight. He delighted in watching her fists clench and unclench as the rough cords bit into her skin.

'I'll teach this haughty bitch a thing or two,' he thought.

"Thank you," she said turning around. Her feline aquamarine eyes blazed out from behind a veil of straight blonde hair but there was no sign of discomfort to soil her features.

Again she flung back her head, again her breasts quivered, again her muscles tensed, again the men missed a heartbeat.

Sempha walked up onto the main deck, enjoying the sun on her face and the breeze in her hair. The sailors were lined up either side of the deck and, as one, turned to see who it was they'd been summoned to inspect. As if on command they fell silent, their mouths agape. The Princess strode ahead, Tevo in front of her, the Admiral behind. She looked neither left nor right. She knew the effect her body was having on the men; that she had enormous power over the opposite sex.

"Stop and turn around," said Tevo.

She did so.

Sempha stared straight ahead, her gaze meeting Rufus who stood by the steps from where she had appeared. He thought she was looking at him. She was not. Rather, the Princess's mind raced, her brain running endless calculations. She knew that Cercia's group could not be far from the castle.

"This is Princess Sempha," said the Admiral, his arm spread needlessly towards her. "Our mission was to capture her. Our success is a tribute to you all".

The men cheered and threw their hats into the air.

"This is the first time that Thorania has played host to an Amazon Princess," he continued. "We are honoured to have witnessed this historic event".

The men congratulated themselves, slapping each other on the back. They knew reward would follow; reward in addition to the bodyguard they had used for two days solid.

"Do we get to whip her?" asked Wex. "Looks like she needs bringing down a peg or two".

Murmurs of approval from the throng.

"Maybe later," said Costall.

The Admiral turned to face the Princess. Close up he could see goose bumps on her skin, her nipples harder and more prominent than before – pinker even. The sun glinted off the silver ringlets that adorned her panties.

"Prepare her," he said, proudly.

* * *

After hours of sawing and hammering Puno stood back to inspect his work. He had built a wooden coffin, seven foot long, five foot wide, and eighteen inches deep. A slat divided the box into two compartments, one six foot three inches long, the other space nine inches in length. The slat slid into position from above. He checked that it operated smoothly.

Puno turned his attention to the coffin's lid that was peppered with small air holes spaced in irregular fashion. A hinge in the lid gave access to the shorter compartment. There was also a trapdoor located at the other end of the lid.

Satisfied with his endeavours, he called for assistance from his colleagues.

Amphora lay quietly. The cuts on the back of her body had healed leaving scabs of dried blood. The wound on her shoulder wept, though less than the day before. Her breasts were painful, extra sensitive to the touch and scarred with welts and sores. Congealed blood covered her damaged aureole and ruined nipple.

They tied Amphora's hands behind her back. She struggled against her aggressors, every movement of her swollen tits causing her to wince.

Two on each side, and one at her head, they lifted the Amazon and dropped her into the box. She cried out, her wounded shoulder taking her weight as she landed. The warrior lay facing upwards, her feet by the slat that closed off the smaller compartment. They placed a chain across her neck and attached the links to manacles set into the coffin's floor. Breet repeated the exercise at her waist. Puno and the dungeon master spread her legs as far as the space would permit. Ennuta tied one foot, Clen the other. She was secured to the base in the shape of a shallow 'Y'.

Amphora looked about, assessing her situation. The links clinked quietly as she tested their strength. The bonds afforded her some movement but, held against the base, she was unable to summon enough leverage to threaten the restraints. Stretching out her toes she could feel the wooden slat at her feet.

Puno walked away and returned moments later with a container. He placed the box on the floor next to the coffin. Twice more he left, each time to fetch another crate.

The man knelt beside her head. He noticed the fire in her cat-like eyes, the amber as bright as ever despite the torment suffered by her remarkable body.

"Amphora," he said. "Where will we find the Princess?"

She looked away.

"You have endured a savage beating," he continued, "a humiliating parade, a brutal whipping, an impressive session on the rack, and rigorous abuse of your breasts".

He stroked her quivering tits, the lightest pressure causing her to grit her teeth and swallow.

"But my method of interrogation is……is……subtler," he smiled. "Please. Give me the information I seek and I will spare you, loath though I would be to miss this opportunity. I would think hard before you decline".

"There is no greater pain than what has already been inflicted," said Amphora. "I have not uttered a word to any of you. Nor will I, you repulsive scum". Her eyes bored into his.

"Your insults are meaningless," said Puno, impassively. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

He got to his feet and carefully removed the cover from one of the containers. His expression was that of a man savouring the moment before satisfaction of a long-held desire.

* * *

Sailors leaned into the capstan. The oak groaned under the weight of the anchor being raised. A full compliment of sails hung from the masts. Small triangular flags strung from the rigging announced the arrival of a ship in triumph. The symbol of a Minotaur crushing a serpent flew from the highest mast, a motif that Tevo had prepared for this very occasion.

The breeze stiffened and the Lynx made way. The helmsman brought the rudder round to the west and the ship headed directly towards the coast.

"She's coming this way," said Jemius's mother to her daughter. Women and children, fathers and sons, lined the harbour, many with flowers to greet their heroes.

Keen-eyed observers amongst the crowd thought they saw a mascot attached to the ship's steep bow. From so far out they could not be sure. As the boat grew closer the image became clearer. A sentry on the battlements was the first to confirm their suspicions.

"There's a woman tied to the bow," he yelled. "And she's naked!"

The Lynx drew nearer the port.

A fanfare from the castle made everyone turn around.

"Listen up! The King wishes to make an announcement," the speaker boomed.

"Yet again Thoranian troops have been victorious. The prisoner you see tied to the bow of the Lynx is none other than Princess Sempha, leader of the Lumana Amazons".

Roars of approval from the crowd.

"Feast your eyes".

The people turned back to the water. At a quarter of a mile out everyone could see the bound woman. Two hundred yards from shore, the crowd got their first proper look at the Princess.

Sempha resembled a bird in flight. Her arms were tied back, ropes securing her elbows and wrists to the hull. Her ankles had been tied to chains that ran down from the deck. With her limbs pulled back, and her body falling forward due to the steepness of the bow, the Princess's breasts hung down swaying like pendulums in tune with the ship's movement. Her thick blonde hair blew in the strong breeze; loose strands clung to her body.

Thorania's port was deep allowing most boats to draw alongside the harbour. The Lynx was no exception. A hundred yards out the sails were gathered and the crew scurried from place to place fulfilling last minute duties. But no one was looking at the sailors.

The Princess was soaked, her body covered in goose bumps, her nipples hard. People reached out to touch the helpless mascot but she was suspended well out of harm's way.

Once alongside the sailors hauled up their trophy. They tied her hands behind her, their filthy tunics rubbing against her body while they held her.

"Get your hands off me," she snarled.

Wex yanked back her head.

"You don't give the orders around here," he said, his mouth inches from her face.

He went to kiss her but Costall pulled him back.

"That'll do," said the Admiral.

Wex tweaked her nipples before letting her go.

"I'm going to teach you some manners – your highness," he sneered

The Captain stepped forward and drew back her hair. He placed the puma headband around her head in a mock coronation.

Wex tied a collar around her neck from which ran four leashes at opposite points. No one noticed him pull the buckle an extra notch, the leather tight against her windpipe. Tevo took one rope, Costall another, Rufus the third, and Trem the fourth. They took the Princess ashore.

Crowds lined the streets as they led Sempha towards the fortress. The people noticed the play of muscle in her legs and stomach as she walked, her magnificent breasts swaying in time with her strides. When she neared they tried to establish eye contact. But Sempha held her gaze straight ahead. She ignored the taunts.

"The mighty Amazon leader. Not so clever now".

"Twenty-five lashes for the bodyguard. Give her fifty. Make her bleed".

"Send her to the dungeon master. Make her pay".

She passed in front of them. Their heads followed as she walked on. From behind they saw her muscled arms, her triceps taut. Her shiny hair swung revealing, half by half, her smooth back. Her wrists were secured criss-crossed just above her round firm buttocks, her forearms hiding her dimples. Her calves were pronounced, the look of a woman wearing heels.

And then she was gone.

Some people ran ahead to get one last look.

The party of five reached the fortress. The double doors opened and she was led inside, trumpets heralding her arrival.

From the courtyard it was a short walk to the inner castle. A soldier opened the heavy oak door, pretending to bow as they entered.

* * *

Thirty minutes later they woke the captive who lay tied to the cannon below decks. She had been in a deep sleep dreaming about Sempha, her leader in a far-off cave lying secure under bearskin covers. As Glaina came round the sweetness of her dream slipped away. She found comfort from the knowledge that the Princess was safe back in Lumana.

Glaina was taken from the ship and into the castle. Her hands had been chained behind her back, her elbows too. They dragged her backwards through the streets, the soldiers using her strong copper-coloured hair rather than ropes. She struggled to stay on her feet but each time she found her footing they quickened the pace. By the time she was hauled into the castle, Glaina's heels were bloody. Clutches of hair had been torn from her scalp.

The crowd could see that this prisoner was another stunning Amazon beauty. Yet where the Princess was serene and fine, the bodyguard was provocative and sexy. The men dreamt of having Sempha, the action nice and slow. They wanted to plunder Glaina's flesh; to pump her raw.

The crowd saw that the Princess's body had been completely unmarked. This other Amazon, however, had clearly been abused. Her torso, thighs, and breasts were strips of red, black oily residue in some places, mutilated flesh in others. Her nipples were darkened husks, her face streaked with white, her hair matted and dirty.

People recognized the similarity between this victim and the one who had been whipped.

"Are they sisters?" a man said to his friend.

"I think they're twins," he replied with a grin.

"What a find!"

Days earlier Amphora's escort had taken her to the healers. Glaina was less fortunate.

* * *

"I'd like to volunteer as an outrider," said Neepa.

"Fine," said Cercia. "Take Zula with you. Rejoin the main group four hours from now".

Cercia knew that the Thoranians had lookouts guarding the approaches to their capital. The closer the Amazons got to the fortress the more likely it was that they would be spotted. Two groups of two acted as outriders, skirting ahead and to the side of the main group to pick off the Thoranian sentries.

The four outriders left. Ten minutes later, the remaining Amazons had finished hiding the remains of their camp and headed for the castle.

Cercia walked in the middle of the sixteen warriors, protection of their leader the number one priority.

'Another twenty four hours and we'll be there,' she thought.

* * *

"One last time," said Puno. "Where is the Princess?'

"Never," she snarled.

Amphora's senses reeled with a new breed of fear but she couldn't identify the nature of the terror. She had heard of people being buried alive, of being enclosed in coffins, claustrophobia slowly driving them insane. The warrior had mentally prepared herself as best she could for these possibilities. Although she didn't relish the prospect of either ordeal, for her there was something much worse, a phobia that made her vulnerable in a way she was powerless to prevent – her most closely guarded personal secret….……that day twenty years ago when she had been playing by the stream. Their putrid smell, their pincer mouths, their furry bodies. Her spine chilled. Amphora drove the memory from her mind.

Puno picked up the lid and placed it on the box. Darkness engulfed the Amazon, pinpricks of light the only indication of life outside the coffin. Her heart raced. She closed her eyes and forced her thoughts to another place.

She lay undisturbed for several minutes. The temperature inside the coffin began to rise. She sweated.

The torturer removed the top from the first container. We wore gloves. None of the creatures inside had eaten for days. Puno prodded and poked, enraging the beasts.

He pulled back the end of the lid. Light entered the coffin but Amphora was unable to see what he was doing. Her breathing deepened.

Puno lifted the crate and tipped its contents into the small compartment. A few clung to the container but he brushed them out. Before any could escape he removed the slat and closed the lip.

Blackness surrounded the Amazon once more.

Silence.

Amphora felt a tickling sensation on the soles of her feet. The feeling rose up her legs, increasing in density. It moved to her waist, then into her cleavage. She wrestled against the chains but the peculiar touch intensified, reaching down her back. Her body felt odd all over; touched in some strange way.

The Amazon closed her eyes, trying to decipher the codes.

Then it was on her neck, in her hair, across her eyelids, along her lips, against her nose. It was everywhere.

She felt a nip on her inner thigh. Then another, this time against her stomach. Then three. Then ten. She lost count. Her whole body was being bitten and stung.

Spiders!

She was covered in spiders. Not just spiders. Beetles, ants, cockroaches, hornets, lizards, wasps, locusts.

"Mmpphhh".

She dared not open her mouth.

"MMPPHHH".

She twisted and turned. Every movement resulted in more bites. She felt the squish of insects crushed beneath her, heard the crackle of their fragile shells give-way under her weight, their slimy innards mashed against her skin.

"MMPPHH".

Puno opened the trap door above her face and looked down at the bound woman. It was a marvelous display. She had lost some of her colour and was slick with sweat. A funnel-web spider sat on her shoulder. The hairy body of a tarantula made its way up her throat. A yellow-jacket wasp hovered above her face, and a green hornet rested on her breast. Red ants, black scarab beetles, and a hoard of other creatures ran across her body.

"Ready to talk my precious?" he asked, grinning.

Amphora opened her eyes wide, a flash of amber fury, and immediately closed them again, afraid that ants might climb onto her eyeballs.

"Where's Sempha?" asked Puno.

She screwed up her face and shook her head. A wolf spider fell off. A locust took its place.

"I take that as a no," he said and closed the trapdoor.

Puno took the top from the second crate. These animals were more dangerous. He took care when lifting the container.

Amphora heard the hinges squeak.

The interrogator dumped the contents between her feet and slammed the lid.

THUD. THUD.

THUD.

Darkness again.

Something grasped her right ankle and moved towards her knee. The same on her other shin. Amphora heard spitting. She froze.

Snakes!

A strong warm body wrapped itself around her left thigh and started to exert pressure. She tensed her muscles trying to stay calm.

But a third sensation between her legs made her gasp. She felt her labia being parted. One of the reptiles crawled through her pubic hair and onto her stomach. The creature slid down her kidney and tried to burrow under her back. Using her head and heels she managed to raise herself to escape its touch. But it slid further underneath her body and appeared at her other side.

Insects continued to gnaw at the Amazon. A smoky-brown cockroach beat its wings against her mouth.

She bucked and thrashed but the chains held her securely.

The python released her leg, crawled up the side of the coffin, and encircled one of her breasts. The boa constrictor around her waist settled. The snakes began to squeeze. Slowly the pressure grew. It became harder to take full breaths. She craved oxygen but feared to open her mouth lest beetles invaded.

"MMPPHH".

A copperhead snake slid into her hair. She heard it hissing, its head millimeters from her ear.

Puno opened the trapdoor.

"Enjoying the company?" he asked. "You know what I need. Tell me where your leader's hiding and I'll free you".

The Amazon was taking shallow breaths using only her nose. Her left breast had swelled, the python settling around the base of her tit, its green body and yellow eyes vibrant in the torchlight. The boa constrictor's natural camouflage made it hard for the man to see it wrapped around her stomach. The copperhead hissed. She flinched. Puno enjoyed her fear.

Red ants gorged on her blood. Bite marks appeared on the Amazon's neck and shoulders, her arms and torso, her face and legs.

"Did you know you talk in your sleep Amphora?" said Puno, dropping a lizard onto her forehead.

"And did you know there's a word you often utter always followed by expressions of pleading - and the thrashing of your limbs?"

'He can't know,' she thought. 'Please – don't let him know'.

The Amazon swallowed hard.

"You're good," he said. "But I'm better. I waited patiently while you slept lest you betray yourself. And you did".

'He has to be bluffing,' she told herself.

"So I have a surprise for you," he said, smirking. "Call it a gift".

He snapped the trapdoor closed.

The snakes squeezed harder. The copperhead moved across her throat, its pink and red stripes discernible in the pinpricks of light. The pain in her breast was excruciating, exacerbating wounds from the whipping and the vice. But the stress across her waist was worse. She felt her organs being compressed, her breathing becoming constricted. The Amazon was desperate to open her mouth – to cry out – to breath in – but her face was a mass of wings, legs and black bodies. Ants crawled everywhere: in her ears, between her toes, in her damaged shoulder, across her scalp. They feasted on her ruined nipple and nibbled at her eyelids.

Once again Amphora heard the lid open. She screwed up her eyes even tighter. There was a scurrying sound.

* * *

"Zula, " said Neepa. "You go ahead. I'll catch you up".

Zula left.

When her fellow outrider was out of sight Neepa reached into her pouch. She found the piece of chalk.

* * *

Tevo and Costall had agreed to withhold from Nemo any mention of Haalet's capture. They knew that the news would have to be broken eventually, but timing of the announcement was critical to their futures – to their lives.

"Let's delay until the Princess breaks under torture," the Captain had said. "Nemo's unpredictable. Possession of the Princess and the gold might outweigh the loss of his son".

"I agree," the Admiral had said. "With luck he'll be so mesmerized by Sempha and the treasure he'll be willing to forgive our transgression".

* * *

Nemo sat on his jeweled throne raised on a dais. His bodyguards stood behind him, their spears at the ready. Torches burned in iron cylinders hung from the massive pillars that supported the vaulted ceiling. He looked towards the huge oak doors at the other end of the room.

A side door opened and a short man appeared holding a scroll.

"My Lord," said the messenger. "I bring you good news. We have the Princess and request…………"

"Just bring her to me!" said Nemo.

The vast doors swung open and the party entered. Her collar had been removed. Trem and Rufus each gripped one of her arms as they marched her forward. She wrestled them away and they went to grab her again.

"Leave her," said Nemo.

Sempha strode towards the throne, her skin radiant, her eyes the colour of diamonds – cool and hard. She stood before the King, naked but for her puma headband. The four men who had led her sat in chairs that lined the walls. Guards from the King's own troop manned the door to the throne room, inside and out.

He came down from his throne so that their eyes were level. Nemo circled his prize, looking her up and down. Her aura rendered him momentarily speechless. His eyebrow twitched. He did not want her to know she had any kind of power over him. But he was confused by the Princess's surreal beauty. One half of his psyche wanted to worship her, the other to rape her. His palms sweated.

"We meet at last," said the King.

The Princess stared ahead.

"I'm sure you know why you're here," he said, standing in front of the Princess. "But if there's any doubt in your mind, allow me to explain. You have three things I want. Your body, the Amazon treasure, and your services as my personal slave".

Silence in the room.

Nemo cleared his throat.

"The first and third are easy, but I suspect the second will be harder".

"You will have none of them," said Sempha. "Not today. Not ever".

The King laughed. The others smiled.

"I'm not sure you're in a position to be giving orders my precocious friend," he said. "Let me tell you what happens from here. This evening you will be tied to my bed and I shall use your body as I please. Unless you tell me what I wish to know, tomorrow you will be taken to the dungeons for questioning. Our dungeon master has been working diligently on one of your bodyguards I believe. I'm sure he'll find time for you".

He wiped his hands against his trousers.

"I'm told he's developed a new piece of apparatus – something he calls the 'device'. I'm sure it's quite hideous. He's very inventive and loves his work. For your sake I hope he doesn't use it on you".

She blinked.

"After you've been broken, and my men have recovered the gold, I'll enjoy the riches of Lumana while you endure a life of servitude".

"Perhaps I am sufficiently outnumbered to prevent you from having me tonight," said the Princess. "I can live with that, disgusting though it is. I have the mental strength to blot your inferior body from my mind. Anyway, I doubt you've got it in you. You're scared of me".

He slapped her face.

"As for your pathetic torturers…." She glared at Nemo. "You're a fool if you think they can break me. I'm an Amazon - not a Thoranian. You'll never have the satisfaction of making me talk".

The King smiled. He liked his women feisty.

"Take her to my chambers".

* * *

Puno lifted the third container and opened the cover a centimeter. The creatures pressed against the top in an effort to escape. He knew that these animals needed to feed every thirty-six hours or else they starved. On his instructions, their food had been withheld for more than two days.

"Don't eat me," he said. "Eat her".

In one swift movement he opened the coffin's lid, smacked the underside of the crate, and watched the beasts slide onto the Amazon's feet. He snapped the lid closed.

Amphora knew the smell immediately. She wretched.

"NOOOO".

A cockroach flew into her mouth. Its legs scratched her tongue. She spat it out.

Vampire bats landed on her body. Famished, they bit into her breasts, her cheek, her thighs.

The Amazon wretched violently.

"I can't stand this," she shrieked.

The trapdoor opened a centimeter. Puno's faced peered in.

The warrior had lost all her colour. She lay transfixed - white. She was sweating profusely, horror etched into her face. A bat clung to her neck, its furry body rubbing against her jugular.

"Shall I leave you to your thoughts?" he said.

He closed the door.

The bats flapped against her body, their black eyes shiny in the thin light.

"NOOOO," she yelled. "Come back!"

The trapdoor opened.

"Talk, bitch".

He brushed a tarantula away from her mouth.

"The hills," said Amphora, tears streaming down the side of her face.

"Not enough," said Puno, dropping the door.

The vampire's sucked, the hooks on their wings caught in her flesh.

"PLEEAASE".

"Which hills?" asked Puno through the air holes.

He heard the woman throwing up.

"The caves," she sobbed. "The caves by the sycamore trees".

Puno removed the lid. Bats and wasps flew out. He looked down at his victim. She shook with hysteria.

The dungeon master walked over to the coffin.

"I have the information you require," said Puno.

The dungeon master smiled.

"Congratulations," said the ogre. "I will remember this".

Puno grinned. He turned back to Amphora.

"If you've lied to me, " he snarled, "if we don't find her there, you'll go back in this box with a hundred bats until we find her".

Ennuta came to inspect the Amazon.

"Shall we leave her?" said the skinny woman. "It might be interesting to watch the python burst her tit. Or listen to her gurgle as the boa constrictor crushes her to death. Now that she has talked her purpose has been served".

"Perhaps another time," said the dungeon master. "I want her alive. I have experiments I wish to conduct on her".

One by one they removed the animals and lifted the Amazon out of the coffin. She was lifeless in their hands. Defeated.

She offered no resistance. Puno and Breet chained her to the floor. They left her to ruminate. Amphora shook. Tears ran down her cheeks. Her wounds, her pain, were as nothing to the feeling of remorse that overtook her body – her soul.

Clen walked over.

"This just arrived," he said, handing a note to the dungeon master.

He read it to himself. "Delivered: the other bodyguard – her sister".

The dungeon master looked down at the tied warrior.

"It seems we have company," he said.

* * *

"Everyone down," Cercia ordered.

The sixteen Amazons crouched low amongst the long grass. They were in a gully, trees fifty yards away on either side.

They waited.

Cercia listened intently. She knew she'd heard noises up ahead.

The sound of clanking armour came from their right. Then their left. The Amazons froze.

Cercia drew her sword. The others followed suit.

"You're surrounded". A voice from ahead of them.

A Thoranian soldier appeared as if from nowhere.

One of Cercia's archers swung around raising her bow.

Other soldiers stood up. Twenty of them blocked the Amazons' way forward. The archer hesitated.

"Drop your weapons". The women looked frantically to their right. Another twenty men came out from the copse.

A second Amazon reached for her bow.

"Obey. Drop your weapons". This time the command came from their left.

More men appeared. Lines of soldiers looked at the women from three sides.

Cercia looked behind her but there was no way out. A fourth group of Thoranians blocked their escape. Cercia calculated there must be close to a hundred men.

'Outnumbered but not outgunned,' she thought.

Her and sixteen warriors against one hundred soldiers. Plus the four outriders who'd hear the commotion and take the soldiers by surprise by joining the fight from behind.

'Worth a try,' she decided.

"Draw swords!" she yelled.

Instantly, seventeen blades glistened in the sun.

"Drop your weapons or she dies," said a solider off to the left. "My name is Britt. I am the commander here. Do as I say!"

Cercia turned and saw Neepa. Tolana's sister was held from behind, a dagger against her throat, the laces of her jerkin missing.

Three men threw Zula to the ground, her hands bound behind her back, her arm badly gashed.

"Is she one of yours?" asked Britt.

The Amazons awaited Cercia's command.

Another solider approached Neepa and placed his sword between her breasts.

"Do you want her to be split open?" said Britt. "Right here".

Neepa struggled, the knife tight against her neck.

"One false move and she dies," said Britt.

Neepa winced.

A scuffling sound came from the other side. Cercia looked to the right. She saw the other two outriders brought out from behind the soldiers and pushed to the ground, their arms pinned to their sides by lassoes.

"Drop your weapons," said Cercia, quietly.

With reluctance, the women threw their swords to the ground.

"Knives and bows too," said Britt.

Men approached from all sides. The Amazon's weapons were removed. The trapped women stood and watched, frustration boiling inside them.

Britt stepped forward.

"Who is your leader?" he asked.

Silence.

"I said, who is your leader?"

The Amazons remained impassive.

"She's the leader". A female voice. "The one with the short hair".

Neepa stepped away from the soldiers. The men who had been holding her sheathed their swords and daggers.

"Thank you Neepa," said Britt.

Cercia's jaw dropped. Her blood rose.

"Why did you do it Neepa?" asked Cercia. "Why?"

Neepa smirked.

"I'll come and visit you in the dungeon, dear Cercia. Then I'll tell you why – between lashes".

Cercia rushed at the traitor. Six men stood in her way and restrained her.

Neepa laughed.

"Chain them," said the spy.

A Thoranian tossed a bag to the ground. It landed with a clunk, its contents spilling onto the grass. The soldiers picked up the chains and spread them out. They lined up the Amazons.

"Not the leader," said Britt. "I'll look after her".

The guards dragged Cercia over to their commander, the woman wrestling against her captors.

"Hold her," said Britt. He enjoyed watching her struggle. Her viciousness surprised him for someone her size.

He looked across to his number two.

"Tie the others," said Britt.

Once shackled the women formed a line, each Amazon joined to the next with chains attached to neck collars. None could escape alone. For added security, the soldiers bound the prisoner's wrists behind their backs.

The Thoranian commander turned his attention to Cercia.

"Strip her," he said, calmly. "And tie her".

While her colleagues watched helplessly, Cercia's clothes were ripped from her body, the soldiers using brute force and knives. When they were finished she stood naked, her arms in the air, her elbows at right angles. Her wrists were held in cuffs that hung from a wooden bar, the beam attached to a collar they had placed around her neck.

"How did you find us?"' asked Cercia

"Do you take us for fools?" said Britt, studying the Amazon leader's defenceless body. "Didn't you think we knew you'd make some puerile attempt at a rescue?"

He ran his hand across her taut belly.

"And of course the notes that Neepa left for us were helpful," he said.

Britt looked over to his number two.

"Take them to the castle".

Soldiers tugged at the line of women, pushing and goading them into action.

"If you give us any trouble, here's what happens," said a tall soldier.

A whistling sound broke through the sound of clanking chains.

"Aaarrgghhh".

Cercia stumbled but held her footing, the breath stolen from her lungs. Blood oozed from a deep cut across her naked back. The soldier pulled back the whip. He turned to the chained warriors.

"Any slacking, she gets it again".

The Amazon leader turned in Neepa's direction and spat.

"Nnnnggghhh".

The whip smacked against Cercia's back, ripping her skin for the second time.

"No one spits at a soldier of the King," said the tall guard. "Insolent bitch"

* * *

Sempha lay on the King's bed. She was tied face up, spread-eagled, naked but for her headband. The Princess had been washed. They had applied no decoration to her face; there was no paint that could have enhanced her innate beauty.

She had been left alone. Her mind held a single thought. 'Cercia can't be far away. I know I can delay until she arrives'.

* * *

Glaina was tied to the 'T' in the dark chamber. Every cell of her body ached. She wrestled with the ropes but she was held fast. They had not decorated the warrior. Although her face was unmarked, her body was already too badly scarred.

She kept her mind focused on just one thing. 'Cercia's on her way'.

She steeled herself. 'I WILL hold on'.

* * *

Amphora wept, her back against the damp stone floor, her limbs chained wide apart. 'Glaina…………someone…….. anyone……….release me from this hell'.

They had mutilated her body. That she could handle. But that they had broken her will, that she had betrayed her leader, was more than she could bear.

She wanted to die.

Only one hope kept her spirit alive – that she might somehow save the Princess before it was too late.

To be continued…

* * *

The following totally fictitious writings of M Coolham are intended for the sole readership of those of LEGAL AGE. The ADULT ONLY material contained within is also for personal use only where local standards permit scenes of violence, torture and sex. Please do not read further if any of these subjects offend, or if you are not of legal age.

This is a work of fiction. The author does not condone violence of any sort.

The following is under Copyright and is for your sole enjoyment. Your cooperation in not using the material in any other application without the express permission of the author is requested. Thank you.

Interrogation of an Amazon

Chapter Nine

Full House

The door to Nemo's bedroom opened. Sempha stared up at the gold canopy overhanging the enormous four-poster bed. She tested the ropes for the hundredth time but she was held secure, naked, her limbs spread wide. She felt the cool sensation of the fine white cotton sheets against her back.

The King closed the door and turned the key. He walked over to the bed, his purple silk robe flowing behind him. He rubbed his hand across his chest, his palm feeling the raised coat of arms that emblazoned his garment.

Candles of all shapes and sizes burned around the room. The flames danced, casting uneven shadows against the granite walls. The torches had been extinguished, the velvet curtains drawn. He was alone with his prize.

Nemo stood by the bed and gazed down at the bound Amazon.

"Hello Princess," he said. "Allow me to say - you look ravishing".

Sempha turned away, clenching and unclenching her fists. She breathed deeply, every movement of her chest making her luscious breasts quiver. Her pink nipples stood proud.

He reached down and ran his hand along her leg, enjoying the feel of hard muscle beneath her smooth bronze skin. Nemo stroked her taut abdomen. His index finger lingered inside her navel. He played with the knot of skin. She found his touch repulsive.

"Tell me Sempha my beauty," he said. "Have you ever had a real man?"

She glared, her jaw tight with fury.

The King grabbed her hair and pulled her face around to look at him. Her eyes were cool and distant.

"Speak," he said.

"I have nothing to say to you," said the Princess. "The sight of you disgusts me".

"Then perhaps you'll enjoy this more if you can't see me," said Nemo.

He pulled a clean silk scarf from the pocket of his robe.

Sempha shook her head from side to side, tugging furiously against her bonds. Her ample breasts swayed vigorously.

The King climbed onto the bed and sat across the Amazon's throat, his shins against her shoulders, his knees either side of her head. He held her steady. She winced at the stink of his unwashed genitals, his penis erect in front of her face. He pulled away the pillows and threw them to the floor.

Nemo placed the blindfold across the top of her face. The Princess lay motionless anxious to protect her eyes. He lifted up her head, leaned forward, and tied the knot tight behind her head.

The King pulled himself off the bound beauty and stood beside the bed. He watched his victim look around as if she was trying to find a source of light. He noticed her breathing quicken, her chest rising and falling, her ribcage expanding and contracting.

No light permeated the black material. Sempha's world was in darkness.

Nemo picked up a large red candle and held it above her heaving chest. He tipped the candle. A drop of seething wax landed between her breasts.

A gasp of surprise.

He moved the candle and tipped it again. Four drops of molten wax fell to her body, encasing her left nipple.

Sempha winced. She raised her torso off the bed, her stomach muscles tightening.

"Like that do you?" he said. "Let's decorate you".

Her torturer tilted the candle for a third time. Steaming liquid wax cascaded onto her unprotected body, running off her breasts and down her side. She thrashed against the ropes trying to avoid the boiling fluid. He continued until the candle was burnt to a stub. Her body burned. Red wax coated her breasts and nipples.

The King opened a drawer in his bedside table and drew a knife. He leaned down and placed the blade underneath the hardened red scabs of dried wax. The Princess held her breath as each flick of the dagger pulled at her skin.

"Don't be concerned," he said, tracing the outline of her aureoles with the tip of the blade. "I shan't cut you. I shall leave your flesh intact for the dungeon master".

She swallowed.

He used a green candle, melting the pillar all over her body. Nemo removed the coating and repeated the exercise with white. The discomfort was mild. The sensation of helplessness was acute. The feel of cold steel against her nipples made her heart pound. She took shallow breaths; any movement might slice her flawless skin. An hour passed.

"How lovely that we have all night," he said. "Please excuse me while I attend to something".

He put on his boots and left the room.

* * *

Amphora watched the dungeon master ignite a flame beneath a pile of charcoal. The coals soon glowed red, their centres white hot. He thrust a brand into the furnace.

The Amazon looked to her right where the thick black curtain remained drawn. There was no sound from the other side.

She turned her head back to the ogre. He was staring down at her. He grinned, his yellow crooked teeth gruesome in the torchlight.

"We have a new arrival," he whispered. "And she's just as beautiful as you".

Ennuta joined him at the brazier.

"Let me do it," she said.

"Be my guest," the man replied, handing her the brand, its scythe motif glowing orange.

Ennuta grinned.

The dungeon master went over to a table in the corner and returned with two rags and small pieces of rope.

"We don't want these two talking," he said.

The huge man knelt down beside the tied warrior. Puno joined him.

"I think you might know our latest visitor," the ogre sneered. "Perhaps you'll want to chat. What a shame we can't accommodate you".

Puno grabbed Amphora's head and lifted it off the ground. The dungeon master passed his accomplice a rag and slithers of cord. Puno thrust the rag against the Amazon's mouth. She melded her lips.

"Ennuta," said the dungeon master, a tune in his voice. "You're needed over here".

The ugly woman looked across and immediately understood what was required. Ennuta withdrew the rod from the fire and walked over to stand before the helpless Amazon. The female aggressor placed the sizzling brand between Amphora's chained legs.

"Open your mouth, bitch," she hissed. "Or I'll destroy your sex".

The Amazon shook her head.

Ennuta drew the steaming brand towards the warrior and held it millimeters from her pubic bone. A rancid smell of charred hair assaulted their nostrils.

Amphora saw the look of hate in Ennuta's eyes. She had no doubt the vindictive woman would fulfill her threat. The Amazon chose to save herself and opened her mouth.

Puno thrust in the filthy rag. The foul taste made her wretch. He tightened the rope around her head, her cheeks pulled back revealing her teeth. Her head fell to the stone floor.

The five interrogators walked over to the curtain. Clen pulled back the drape and they passed through to the anteroom.

"Hello gorgeous," Amphora heard one of them say. "Welcome".

The curtain was drawn closed behind them.

The Amazon heard the sound of fist connecting with flesh. Then a muted cry. The prisoner in the chamber was putting up a fight.

A high-pitched shriek followed the unmistakable smell of burning flesh that escaped through the black velvet.

Amphora thrashed against her chains. Her muscles strained as she fought the metal but they had tied her well. She sweated.

The curtain parted and Ennuta walked back into the dungeon. She grinned at Amphora.

"Do you know this woman?" she asked, spreading her arm back towards the gap in the wall.

The men appeared, a stunning muscular woman fighting against their hold.

"Glnna!" the gagged voice of Amphora.

The sisters stared at each other, both shocked by what they saw. Neither had any notion of what the other had endured but each could tell that their sibling had visited hell. The amber-eyed twin noticed the fresh vivid wound from the brand on her sister's inner thigh.

Amphora tried to get up but the chains restrained her. Glaina wrestled against the men but they held her tight.

The dungeon master turned to Breet.

"It's your turn," he said. "Which one do you want?"

Breet inspected the women. Eyes: amber or green? Hair: straight black or curly copper? The twins were equally attractive. He weighed the decision carefully, then whispered in the dungeon master's ear. The ogre smiled.

"As you wish," he said.

"Let them sleep," said Breet. "I want them fresh for my experiment".

"Now that Amphora has illuminated us as to the Princess's whereabouts," said the dungeon master, addressing Glaina as much as anyone else, "Our task has been accomplished. But the twins' contribution to our entertainment has only just begun. On the other hand, if she lied," he looked down at Amphora, "I cannot be held responsible for the consequences that will follow for you both".

Glaina shot a look at Amphora, compassion in her emerald eyes. She knew that for her sister to break the torture must have been unspeakable. The Amazons were bursting with questions. They longed to hug. But their jailers kept them apart, the gags increasing their frustration.

Amphora turned away, tears in her eyes. She hated herself.

Glaina was taken to the other side of the dungeon. They threw her to the floor and tied her, a carbon copy of her sister on the other side of the room. Ennuta placed a chain around Glaina's throat and secured it tight against the ground. She wanted to be certain the sisters could not communicate – not even with signs or lip-read conversation.

* * *

Sempha heard the key turn in the lock. The door creaked open and the King crossed the threshold. The door closed and the key turned again. The Princess raised her head to look in his direction but could see nothing. No light penetrated the blindfold. She hated this vulnerability; available for his every whim.

Nemo's boots clattered against the flagstones as he came towards her. He purposely exaggerated the sound. He need not have bothered. The three other people who had entered the room with him – barefoot - moved towards the bed noiselessly. They were practiced in the art of silent approach.

The Princess heard the King remove his boots. She felt the mattress give way as he climbed onto the bed between her spread legs. She sensed him kneeling. She tugged against the ropes. They creaked and groaned but remained tight. The newcomers watched her muscles flex as she fought. They had worked on several of Nemo's subjects but this woman surpassed anyone that they had ever seen.

His finger tenderly massaged her labia. The pressure increased, the digit finding its way into all the crevasses and folds of her sweetest flesh. His thumb stroked her pubic bone, running through her soft hair. She fought against arousal. The Princess would not allow him to think he could give her pleasure. She diverted her senses.

A tongue ran up to her navel. She gasped and sucked in her stomach. But there was no avoiding his touch. Saliva dripped from his mouth as he bit on her nipples.

Fingers pulled at her hard nipples, tweaking, flicking, stroking. He used her nipples to tug at her breasts, drawing her tits away from her chest before letting go, her flesh falling back down quivering and jiggling as it settled.

She felt his erect member against her gate. She was dry but he persisted, stabbing gently - trying to find a way in.

Again he used her breasts, grasping at her nipples, using them as handles to pull her pendulous globes from side to side. He slapped her tits. Left right. Harder. Left right left. She winced, unable to see him – unable to anticipate the blows. He continued, her astonishing breasts a mass of wobbling reddening flesh.

For a second time his penis sought an entrance, prodding and poking. She moved her hips to frustrate his efforts.

Sempha heard his breathing, deep and laboured. She felt the mattress give and take with the weight of his knees between her tied legs.

He froze.

His cock was on the edge of her crack.

She tensed. She waited. She bashed her head back against the mattress, frustration overcoming her.

He grabbed her buttocks and pulled her towards him. His fingernails dug into her firm flesh. The ropes bit into her wrists.

With a roar he thrust into her.

Simultaneously, molten wax landed on her throat - a whip crashed against her breasts - something sharp dug into the sole of her right foot.

"Aaaaarrgghh".

A mixture of pain, surprise, anger.

He pumped - scalding wax fell onto her neck and upper chest - leather smacked against her tits.

'How many are there?'

'Men? Women?'

'Bastards!'

They worked on her defenceless body until he came.

Then they rotated positions.

For two hours they abused her, taking turns between her legs. She never knew which was Nemo. Perhaps none of them was.

Rough hands held her jaw wide open. A man unloaded into her mouth. She spat out the filthy liquid.

So they did it again. This time he drove deeper. He ejaculated against the back of her throat. They made sure she swallowed.

When it was over she was slick was sweat. Her breasts were red with whip marks. Her nipples were sore and swollen from being mauled and wrenched. Her vagina was raw, the dryness of her tract amplifying the hurt. Streaks of semen coated her face and breasts. More of the vile stuff oozed from between her legs.

The door opened and people left.

Nemo remained.

"The rape of Lumana is half done," he said. "Tomorrow you will tell me what I need to know. Then the plunder will be complete".

"Are you satisfied you pig?" she replied. "Is that what it takes for Thoranian men to have a woman? She must be tied to endure their revolting bodies?"

"I'll break your spirit," he snarled. "If it's the last thing I do".

* * *

Tolana pulled back on the reins. It was mid-afternoon. Her horse had been galloping for two hours nonstop. They had covered four hundred miles since the previous day.

A long leash ran from her saddle to the horse that followed, Haalet on its back. The captive's hands were tied behind his back, his feet bound together beneath the second animal. His muscles strained with the effort of staying upright, his inner thighs and buttocks raw.

Their Amazon escort also took the opportunity to rest.

Tolana consulted her map.

'We'll be there tonight,' she thought.

* * *

Soldiers had been sent ahead to announce the imminent arrival of the Amazon prisoners. A crowd had gathered on the battlements to witness the final stage of their journey to the fortress. It was late in the afternoon when the group came into view.

The onlookers noticed that one of the women had been kept apart, her arms tied to a beam running across her shoulders.

They also saw one of the Amazons walking with Britt, the two of them deep in conversation.

The huge outer doors were pulled apart and the captives were led through to the inner courtyard.

People emerged from doors around the square; soon there were hundreds surrounding the chained women. They paid particular attention to Cercia. That she was naked was one thing, but there was something especially attractive about her – that she was shorter and slighter than the others was strangely pleasing.

Cercia wasn't beaten yet. Her mind raced. 'This situation might turn out to our advantage,' she thought. 'At least we're inside the castle'. She stood close to the main group. With all the noise coming from the crowd she was able to speak softly to her comrades.

"Be prepared," Cercia whispered as loudly as she dared. "They'll use our bodies for sport. I fear that's something we can't prevent. But try and pick a weak man amongst those who service you. Try and make a friend – win them round. Find a gap in their defences. Let's keep in contact – somehow".

The warriors understood the message.

'Thoranian scum beware' was the tenor of their thoughts.

Tevo had been told of the women's arrival and joined the throng. Britt spotted him amongst the people and called him over.

"This is Neepa," said Britt. "She's the spy I was telling you about".

"I've heard much about you," said the Captain. "I understand your contribution to the capture of the rescue party was invaluable. You saved many Thoranian lives. The King would like to thank you personally".

"I will look forward to that," said Neepa, shaking Tevo's hand. "It has been my pleasure to serve such a noble leader".

Tevo wondered if the woman was married. Her beauty far surpassed any of the Thoranians with whom he socialized.

The Captain rubbed his hands together and looked at the sixteen prisoners.

"I think it's time we had an auction," he said. "Fine quality stock. The prices should set records. I'll make an announcement".

"Before you go," said Britt, holding the Captain's forearm, "The naked one's their leader. She's my choice. Keep her back".

"No problem," said Tevo. He walked over to the platform on which Amphora had been paraded.

"Listen up," he shouted.

People gathered round.

"There will be a slave auction three days from now".

Murmurs of agreement from the throng.

"Messages will be dispatched to our most discerning customers," he continued. "These women are the highest quality we've ever sold. Prices will reflect that. A notice will be posted tomorrow with the time and place".

The crowd applauded as he descended the steps.

"What shall we do with the prisoners?" asked Britt.

"We don't want their value reduced," the Captain replied. "But the men deserve a reward. The crew of the Lynx has had their fill. It's the army's turn. Throw the prisoners in the dungeons and let the soldiers pick and choose".

"Good idea," said Britt.

"Two things," said Tevo. "Be sure the soldiers work in gangs of at least six – no fewer. No one man can handle an Amazon alone; these women are too dangerous. Also, the men must be clear that no damage to the goods will be acceptable. They can treat them rough, but no marks – no scars".

"I'll see to it," said Britt.

"Neepa, come with me," said the Captain, smiling broadly. "Let me introduce you to the King".

"I'd like that," said Neepa, flirting with her light-brown eyes.

Neepa turned to Britt.

"What will you do with Cercia?" she asked.

"She'll be delivered to the dungeon master," he replied. "But first I'll explore her body for a while".

Neepa smiled.

"Let me know when you've finished," she said. "I have some lessons to teach her. If she's chained to a post, and a whip's available, so much the better".

The sixteen women were led away. The soldiers swarmed around them as they were taken to the cells, each man naming his favourite.

Britt opened the door to his private room. Cercia saw hooks and shackles hanging from the ceiling, restraints at each corner of the bed. He pushed her inside and slammed the door.

"Party time," he snarled.

* * *

A note was passed under the door of the dungeon. It contained few words.

'The King wants the Princess for one more night. She will be delivered first thing tomorrow'.

* * *

The sun was setting behind the castle. Tevo had ordered that the number of sentries be doubled. Although the rescue party had been successfully intercepted he remained cautious. As far as he knew, the Amazons were still unaware that their Princess had been captured. But once they found out, he knew they would act.

* * *

"You wanted to meet our spy in the Amazon camp, my Lord," said Tevo. "Allow me to present Neepa".

She bowed.

"Welcome to Thorania," said Nemo. "I know you will be happy living in this country".

"I'm sure I shall," said Neepa.

"Remind me," said the King. "Why did you choose to betray Lumana?"

"Simple," she said. "How could twenty women overcome the might of the Thoranian capital? The mission seemed doomed from the start. I have no desire to die – or be sold as a slave. It was a matter of life or death. Ride with Cercia - or save my life".

They exchanged a few pleasantries.

The King wanted to get to the point. He cleared his throat.

"Tell me," he said. "Do you know where the infamous Amazon treasure is located?"

"No," said Neepa. "I wish that I did. Only Princess Sempha has that information. It's handed down from generation to generation within the royal line. If she dies, the secret dies with her".

The King stared deep into Neepa's eyes.

"And do you know where the Princess can be found?" asked the King.

"Again, I must answer in the negative," said Neepa. "Last known, she and her bodyguard were hiding in the wilderness. There was concern that her other bodyguard, the one you hold, would break under torture. And that you would come looking for the Princess".

"You are correct in your summation," said Nemo. "But there is something you should know".

The King stepped closer to the Amazon, studying her face for every nuance.

"The Princess is here. Upstairs. Tied to my bed".

Neepa burst out laughing.

"Why, that is splendid news," she said. "How could you keep such information from me?"

The King noticed nothing untoward in her expression. She was clearly genuinely happy. He stepped back.

"What prevents you from questioning her?" asked Neepa. "Your dungeon master's reputation is legendary".

"In truth," said Nemo, "I think it's a shame to scar such supreme beauty".

He thought a moment.

"No matter," he said, dusting his hands against his tunic. "Her beauty will fade. The jewels will not. She will be interrogated until she breaks – at whatever cost to her magnificent body".

Sempha's face swam before his eyes. He thrust her image from his mind.

"If you had known the treasure's location, Neepa," he said, almost to himself, "I could have spared her the interrogation. I would have had gold and diamonds beyond my wildest dreams and the most beautiful woman imaginable as my slave".

"I am sorry I cannot help further," said Neepa.

"Do not apologise," said Nemo. "Your contribution to my kingdom has been vital. Who knows what havoc that band of women might have caused".

"My Lord," she asked, summoning up her courage. "May I ask one favour? Call it payment for my services to you".

"Name it," he said.

"Am I correct that you will be present when Sempha is interrogated?" she said. "I imagine you are anxious to learn firsthand where the treasure is to be found; to hear it for yourself when she breaks - lest anyone keep the knowledge for himself, or passes you incorrect information".

Neepa was treading carefully. Any suggestion that a servant of the King might deceive him could have serious repercussions.

"Yes, of course," said Nemo, unevenly. The thought had not occurred to him. But he knew that Neepa was right. He needed to hear it for himself.

"Then I ask if I may join you", she said. "I have no ambitions for the gold. But I would like to watch the dungeon master at work. And any discomfort written across Sempha's face would be……………a bonus for me".

"Your wish is granted," said Nemo. "We shall enter the dungeon together".

* * *

A second note appeared under the dungeon door.

Clen handed it to the dungeon master who read it out-loud.

'Lumana attempted a rescue. Thorania overcame. The leader of the group is interesting. She has been delivered. Her name is Cercia'.

The dungeon master laughed.

Glaina's heart sank.

Amphora had guessed Tolana would send help. The collapse of her morale was an almost physical sensation.

"Let's see how interesting she is," said the dungeon master. "Then I can decide which brand to use. Clen, bring a gag".

Amphora watched the five interrogators enter the anteroom once more. The curtain pulled closed behind them. Glaina was tied so tight she could not raise her head. She could only listen.

The two sisters heard someone being slapped. Then laughter. Then voices.

Ten minutes later Cercia was hauled into the room, blood dripping from her nose. She had been gagged.

Cercia looked across at Amphora. Her reaction mirrored Glaina's earlier that day. Then the shorter Amazon saw Glaina.

'nnnoooo' she cried through her gag, her face falling.

The scars on Glaina's body spoke for themselves. But did this mean the Princess had been taken? Cercia's gag prevented her from asking.

"Clen," said the dungeon master. "You were last in the draw. This new one's your toy tomorrow while Breet takes his turn with Amphora or Glaina".

Clen grinned. He liked the look of Amphora and had been eagerly anticipating his time with her. But the note had called Cercia 'interesting'. He agreed with that opinion. Bar the welts on her back, the new Amazon was unmarked.

They tied Cercia to the ground in the furthest corner of the dungeon. Ennuta repeated the exercise with a chain around her throat.

"It's going to be a busy day tomorrow," said the ogre. "Breet, you can choose between Glaina or Amphora. Ennuta and Puno, you two can fight over the one he rejects. Clen, you will have Cercia. And I'll have the Princess. One more and it would have been a full house!"

* * *

Tolana approached the castle. She had prayed for a moonless night. Her prayers had been answered. The pitch black allowed her to get close up to the castle before the sentries spotted her.

* * *

The King bent over Sempha gorging on her features. He knew this was the last time he'd see her in this condition. Once the dungeon master had broken her, this flawless beauty would be ruined forever.

The Princess had spent the day in Nemo's chambers being washed and prepared by a team of consorts ready for this second night under his control. She dreaded to think what he might have planned for the next eight hours.

TAT-TAT.

A knock at the door.

He had issued express instructions that he was not to be disturbed.

'This had better be damned important' he thought, gathering his robe around him.

He opened the door a crack.

"What is it?" he hissed.

"Forgive me my Lord," said Tevo. "Your instructions were explicit but this is very serious – and very delicate".

Nemo saw Admiral Costall standing behind the Captain.

"We need a moment of your time," said Costall.

"Surely it can wait," said the King.

"No sir. It cannot," they said in unison.

"Meet me in my antechamber in two minutes".

Ten minutes later the King had heard the full story about Haalet's capture.

He was too shocked to be angry.

"But there is one last thing," said Tevo. "There is an Amazon at the gate with five warriors as an escort. And she has Haalet. She threatens to kill him unless you free Amphora. It appears she does not know about the Princess, or Glaina, or the failure of the rescue mission".

"Take me to her," said Nemo.

The three men strode along the corridor and out onto the battlements overlooking the front of the fortress. Just as Tevo had said, there was an Amazon warrior, his son in her arms, her dagger at his throat, five swords pointed at his chest.

Now the King was angry. Very angry. Cross that his night with Sempha had been disturbed, furious at Tevo's stupidity for having allowed Haalet to travel, and livid with Haalet for having let himself be captured.

"I am King Nemo," he called down.

"I am Tolana," replied the Amazon. "You see that I have your son. I propose an exchange. Haalet for Amphora".

The King's mind raced.

'Tevo was right,' he thought. 'She obviously doesn't know we have the Princess and the others'.

"Give me a moment to consult," he called.

"If I don't have your answer within five minutes," she replied, "He looses his ears".

"Draw even a single drop of blood and I will personally tear you apart," roared Nemo.

"Five minutes," said Tolana, tightening the knife around Haalet's throat.

"Bitch", he said under his breath.

Nemo turned to Tevo.

"What do you think?" said the King. "It seems a fair swap".

"I disagree," said the Captain. "Thoranian pride is at stake here. If the men see you release the bodyguard they'll see it as failure".

"The people need not know," said Nemo.

"Word has a habit of getting out," said Costall.

"I have a plan," said Tevo. "Give me a minute".

"You have one minute," said the King. "And if your idea fails, it'll be your ears that are fed to the pigs".

Tevo ran down the stairs and into the soldiers' barracks.

The scene was mayhem. The soldiers were standing around in groups, cheering and laughing, encouraging their fellow guards. Amazons were tied to beds, tables, chairs. One was on all fours, a man at each end. Another hung from the ceiling by her wrists, men flailing her with whips. And another was chained to a wall, her arms wide apart, her ankles tied up to her wrists. Men jockeyed for position as she struggled helplessly, her defenceless body offering various opportunities for abuse.

The Captain saw Britt and motioned to him.

Britt walked over.

The Captain told the solider his plan.

"……and make it quick," Tevo finished.

"Your time is up," called Tolana. "I want my answer".

Tevo appeared on the battlements, gasping for air.

"We are preparing the bodyguard," said Tevo between breaths. "She is being brought to the gate as we speak".

"You have three more minutes," said Tolana, moving her dagger to Haalet's ear. The five Amazons kept their blades trained on his body, each of them staring at their target.

Haalet flinched.

Two minutes passed. To the King it felt like two hours. To his son it felt like ten.

"Don't test me," yelled Tolana.

"She's on her way," said Tevo. "One minute more".

BOOM. BOOM.

Two cannons fired, one at either end of the castle.

The Amazons were momentarily distracted, not knowing which way to look.

The arrows seemed to come from nowhere.

THHUUCKK.

As one they found their targets.

The five Amazons fell, three dead, two fatally wounded. Tolana screamed, an arrow protruding from her thigh.

THUCK. THUCK.

Two more arrows, one into her other leg, one her arm.

It had been too dark for Tolana to see the tiny slits that were built into the castle wall.

Haalet, though, knew of the archers' vantage points and had seen the arrowheads pointing through the slits. He guessed the plan. He knew the noise diversion tactic. The moment the cannons had fired he had felt Tolana's grip alter. Haalet had kicked back and away from her, rolling to the ground and out of danger. His ear was gashed but otherwise he was unharmed.

It was over in an instant.

The King turned to Tevo.

"Risky Captain, " he said. "Very risky. You trained your archers well".

The Captain remained silent. His fate was in the balance.

Nemo looked down at Tolana. She writhed on the ground clutching at her wounded limbs.

"Fetch her," said Nemo. "Let Haalet give the bitch some of her own medicine. Her ears will make an interesting souvenir. I have business to attend to".

Minutes later he was sitting on the bed beside the bound Princess. He chose not to tell her the story. She'd find out soon enough. He removed the blindfold.

"Now then," he said. "Where was I?"

The Princess closed her eyes.

An hour later he was snoring by her side. Semen covered her face, slid down her breasts, leaked from between her spread legs. Her wrists and ankles were red, the ropes chaffing against her skin as she had fought his advances. To block out his stench she had filled her head with thoughts of Cercia's approach. The Princess chose to save her strength for whatever lay ahead tomorrow.

* * *

Never before had there been three notes in one day. The third one read: 'Another delivery for you. This one needs special treatment. She threatened the King's son. Haalet will come tomorrow to take his revenge. Her name's Tolana. She has been delivered'.

The dungeon master's laughter echoed around the room.

"It seems we'll have a full house after all," he said. "Ennuta can have Breet's reject and Puno can instruct Haalet in the use of torture on this Tolana".

* * *

A sense of foreboding hung over the castle.

Amphora slept fitfully. Her guilt stung. She blamed herself for Glaina's kidnapping although, deep down, she knew it was a separate issue from her being broken.

Glaina couldn't shake the vision of her sister; the moment she'd first seen Amphora chained to the dungeon floor. She couldn't help but run through her mind what must have happened to Amphora for her to talk.

Cercia spent most of the night planning. Her body was sore from Britt's treatment. He had been rough. Bite marks scarred her breasts. Blood trickled from the welts on her back. Scratch marks ran up her inner thighs. Much worse was the sense of failure. As group leader, she berated herself for not having seen Neepa's deception. But what could she have done differently? She'd grown up with Neepa – they had known each other all their lives. Cercia was resourceful. Her mind worked overtime hatching an escape.

Tolana spent the night tied to the 'T'. The dungeon master had inspected her, noticed the arrow wounds, the one on her arm still bleeding, and had decided to leave her till morning. He gagged the struggling woman, simultaneously taunting her with his plans for her body.

One thought comforted the four bound warriors.

'Sempha's still safe'.

They prayed: 'By all that's sacred, let her stay that way'.

Sixteen Amazon prisoners fought against being savaged by the soldiers. The brutes took it in turns, their stunning trophies securely tied. Some were taken to the harem, others abused in their cells. The men put in fake 'offers', teasing them with the prospect of the auction – telling them how slave-masters will arrive from miles around and make their purchases. They told horrific tales of women disappearing, their bodies found weeks later, the crows having had their fill.

Neepa and Tevo talked long into the night. In the small hours Neepa retired to her quarters, much to Tevo's disappointment. 'I'll bide my time,' he thought. 'She's worth waiting for'.

Sempha lay awake her mind racing. She knew tomorrow would be the hardest day of her life. She had heard the commotion outside the castle walls earlier that night. Might it have been a diversionary tactic by Cercia? Might her rescuers arrive before dawn? 'Come quickly Cercia. Come quick'.

* * *

The dungeon master oiled the mechanism of the device.

His moment had arrived.

Although he had been pleased that Puno's ingenuity had broken the Amazon bodyguard, he had also felt a twinge of disappointment. It made a session with Amphora in the device less exciting. Experiments are one thing, but he liked to have something to aim for – a goal – a piece of information to extract.

Now an even greater opportunity presented itself.

He was to use his device on the most precious prize of all. And she had a priceless secret he needed to pry from her; treasure of inestimable value.

The ogre had no idea what the Princess looked like. No matter. If she was even half as lovely as her bodyguards, he was in for a treat.

He tried to picture her, strapped into the hideous contraption, begging for mercy.

He picked at his teeth.

'Bring on the morning'.

To be continued…

* * *

The following totally fictitious writings of M Coolham are intended for the sole readership of those of LEGAL AGE. The ADULT ONLY material contained within is also for personal use only where local standards permit scenes of violence, torture and sex. Please do not read further if any of these subjects offend, or if you are not of legal age.

This is a work of fiction. The author does not condone violence of any sort.

The following is under Copyright and is for your sole enjoyment. Your cooperation in not using the material in any other application without the express permission of the author is requested. Thank you.

Interrogation of an Amazon

Chapter Ten

Reunion

Sempha stood before the King. She wore a simple sleeveless dress that came down to her mid-thighs. The 'V' neckline showed off her ample cleavage. A dark-blue leather belt with a large silver buckle drew the white cotton around her waist. She was barefoot. The puma headband adorned her head.

The Princess's wrists were tied behind her back.

Eight guards waited by the throne-room door.

"You have one last chance," said Nemo. "I warn you. The dungeon master has had instructions to torture you piteously. He will break you. It is only a matter of time. Save yourself - tell me where to find the gold".

"I will never be broken," she hissed. "Not by you or any of your servile brutes".

He raised his arm to stroke her face. She turned away.

"Pride will be your undoing," he said. "Take her to the dungeon".

* * *

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

Only two people were permitted to enter the dungeon by the main door: the King and the dungeon master.

The ogre wanted to greet the Princess personally. He shot back the bolts, turned the enormous rusty key, and clicked back the handle. The oak rattled on its hinges as the door opened inwards.

Yellow light spilled out into the dank corridor. The dungeon master saw Nemo standing alone.

"Welcome my Lord," said the taller man, bowing. "Please come in".

"Later," said the King. "I have come to tell you that the Princess is to be delivered shortly. I have authorized that she be spared the usual welcoming ceremony on the 'T'".

"As you wish," said the thug, slightly disappointed.

"I shall return in an hour with Haalet and the Amazon traitor," said Nemo. "Do not start your interrogation of Sempha until I have arrived".

The ogre nodded.

"One more thing," said the King. "The Princess will be accompanied by eight of my finest guards. I wish them to remain in the dungeon during the session. These Amazons are dangerous and resourceful - deadly. Tied they may be, but with five of them in one room caution must be the watchword".

"Understood," said the brute. "I like an audience". He grinned.

The dungeon master closed the door.

His accomplices were helping each other prepare their victims for the day ahead.

Breet had chosen Glaina, so Ennuta was to have Amphora. Puno would be working on Tolana, and Clen would entertain Cercia.

They had prepared the fresh Amazons first; Tolana then Cercia. Glaina had been next. Puno, Clen, and Breet assisted Ennuta with Amphora.

Once the four muscled victims were secured, each of them still gagged, the interrogators started work.

Although it was still early, the room was insufferably hot. Extra torches had been lit. The dungeon master wanted maximum light for his examination of the Princess.

THUMP. THUMP.

The dungeon master opened the door. A formation of eight large guards stood at the entrance, three at the front, three at the back, one at each side of a tall blonde woman who was in their midst. He was unable to see her face.

The Princess heard muffled screams coming from the dungeon. She knew Amphora was somewhere inside but could tell that more than one prisoner was undergoing interrogation.

"We have Sempha," said a guard.

The ogre smiled.

The front row of guards stepped to one side. The Princess and the dungeon master locked eyes. Mutual recognition was instantaneous.

'Those eyes,' he thought. 'It's her!'

'Those lips. And those disgusting teeth'. Sempha's heart leapt into her mouth.

The interrogator walked up to the Princess.

He thrust his hand into her hair and yanked back her head. They glared at each other, the dungeon master towering over the bound woman.

"I believe we've met before!" he said, grinning. "You're owed a punishment – and it's long overdue".

She spat in his face - just as she had done four years ago.

Slowly he raised his other hand and wiped her spittle off his unshaven cheek. He looked at the saliva in his open palm and raised his eyes, fury written into his expression.

"You'll pay for that, bitch," he said.

He drove his fist into her stomach. She was ready. His knuckles met solid muscle.

"Hold her," he snarled. "There's something I need".

Soldiers grabbed her arms.

The thug strode into the dungeon. He drew a black curtain across the centre of the chamber. On one side of the curtain his colleagues worked on the prisoners. On the other side was a single thick oak post. His accomplices stopped briefly to watch the events before the curtain obscured their view.

Sempha winced at the sounds coming from inside the chamber. She couldn't bear to think of what was being done to the unfortunate victims.

The brute returned and pushed the guards aside. He stood behind the Princess and thrust a rag against her mouth. She resisted.

"Her mouth," he said.

One of the guards drew a knife and placed it against her lips.

"Open, bitch, or I'll cut your face away".

Sempha felt the cold steel against her full lips. She chose to save her resources and obeyed.

The fetid cloth was thrust deep into her mouth, a rope pulled tight behind her head to hold it in place.

The Princess felt rough hands in her hair and against her scalp. She had noticed that he had returned with something else in his hand but had not been able to make it out.

The dungeon master gathered up her thick blond hair. He thrust a small heavy sack over her head and stuffed her hair inside before pulling the drawstring tight at her throat. He tore a hole above her head for air. Sempha thrashed against her blindness but they held her tight.

Sempha fought for breath inside the black sack. The hood stank of rotting flesh. She forced herself not to imagine what it might have been used for.

The dungeon master grabbed her arm and shoved her over the threshold. She stumbled but held her footing. He called for help from three of the guards. The four men hauled her over to the post, untied her wrists, and pulled her arms behind the pillar. They retied her wrists and roped her elbows together. Her breasts thrust outwards straining against the thin cotton of her dress.

Through their anguish, the four Amazons heard the commotion from the other side of the curtain.

The guards came into the chamber and lined up against the wall behind the Princess. The dungeon master walked around the curtain to speak with his accomplices.

"Ennuta, Puno, Breet, Clen. I need your attention," he said.

The interrogators put down their tools.

"We have a very special surprise visitor," the dungeon master continued. "I want our guests to enjoy the reveal of her identity. Please be sure they can see".

The interrogators made some adjustments so that their subjects could observe the unveiling.

The ogre pulled back the curtain.

The four helpless Amazons and their torturers saw a tall woman bound to a post. With the Princess's hair held inside the hood, and with no adornments on her body, they were unable to recognize the prisoner in the white dress.

"Don't know her?' said the brute, smiling. "Perhaps this will help".

He walked up to the struggling woman and unknotted her silver belt. It fell to the floor and he kicked it away. The ogre stood behind the post. Using both hands he gripped the sides of the neckline on Sempha's dress.

There was a sharp ripping sound. The thin material gave way. Sempha felt the heat of the dungeon against her bare chest.

He pulled again – more noise of cotton being rent.

The Princess stood exposed, the dress hanging off her bound elbows.

The Amazons gasped. They knew the woman was one of theirs but there were many big-breasted muscled beauties in their ranks. Amphora, Glaina, and Tolana guessed the captive was a stray warrior, perhaps on a reconnaissance mission. They hoped against hope that she was not from a rescue party. Cercia thought the woman was one of her sixteen comrades.

The soldiers' imaginations ran wild. The view from behind the magnificent woman was one thing; what must she be like from the front they wondered.

"Anyone want to guess?" he said, looking at the four Amazons.

Silence.

"Need to see more?"

The dungeon master drew a knife.

Sempha felt the man pulling roughly at what remained of her dress. She remained as still as possible, unable to anticipate the man's mood or motive.

The ogre cut away her dress. The woman was naked but for the sack.

"Let's ask her name".

The Princess sensed the thug walk away. She leaned her head back against the post. Her mind raced. Robbed of her senses in the hood, she found herself unable to think – the feeling of humiliation too powerful. Her body had never been seen in public. She had no idea how many people were looking at her at that very moment. That she was naked, and vulnerable, was torture in itself.

The chief interrogator reached for a whip and stood back, his arm raised.

A whistling sound ricocheted off the walls.

CRACK.

The leather landed across Sempha's taut abdomen.

She was taken completely unawares. The searing pain took her breath away.

The spectators heard the victim shriek, her cry muffled by the gag.

The Princess steeled herself for more. She was determined not to let him know that he was hurting her.

Again the ogre whipped her, this time the thick black strand contacting her thighs.

No sound from the victim.

Ten lashes; her breasts, her stomach, her upper chest, her legs, all targeted. She pulled up her leg in effort to protect her belly.

The brute delivered five more strokes, the whip biting into her soft skin.

She made no sound at all.

The four Amazons struggled against their bonds. It was unbearable for them to see a fellow warrior tortured so cruelly. They knew that in darkness, the prisoner was unable to prepare herself for the blows.

For the accomplice interrogators this was a double bonus. They enjoyed watching their mentor perform; they learnt new lessons. At the same time their victims' sense of helplessness reached new heights.

The dungeon master drew his sleeve across his forehead.

Sweat appeared on the stunning body tied before them. Her chest rose and fell, her breathing intense. Her flawless body bore the stains from the lash.

"How about this?" said the brute.

Sempha heard the man approach her. She tensed her stomach. The Princess felt the heat of his breath next to her ear.

"There's no muscles to protect where I'm going," he hissed.

She felt something rough against her labia.

The thug rubbed the whip handle against the dry raw skin between her legs, the folds still recovering from two night's of savage treatment.

She winced. The sack hid her pained expression.

He licked the end of the handle and turned to face the four Amazons and his accomplices.

"Mmmm," he mocked. "Delicious".

The dungeon master moved behind the post.

"See if this helps you guess her identity," he said.

The dungeon master drew the hood tight behind her head. The black material outlined the contours of her face, pressing against her nose and jaw.

The Princess's gag distorted the view of her face. Amphora thought she saw the imprint of a puma on the victim's forehead but thrust the thought from her mind.

The material was at its limit, the pressure threatening to tear it apart. But it held.

Sempha's breathing was constricted, the hood sucking air from her nose and mouth.

The dungeon master released the sack and it fell forward.

He came to stand before the woman.

She felt his coarse fingers on her nipples. He tweaked and pulled her defenseless breasts, his fingernails cutting into her aureoles. She struggled, her luscious naked breasts swaying uncontrollably.

The four prisoners found it hard to watch the abuse of their comrade. But their curiosity as to her identity was heightened.

"Your name, bitch," he snarled. "Tell them your name".

Silence.

He drove the butt of the whip handle into her solar plexus. She had no way of anticipating the blow. Sempha gasped for breath. Twice more the ruthless brute used the handle, the third time meeting muscle as she resisted.

"Your admirers are loosing their patience my beauty," he said. "Time to reveal you".

Sempha's breasts, belly, and thighs stung from the whipping. Her nipples were sore, the dungeon master's rough touch amplifying the rigours of the previous two nights. She struggled for air, the heat inside the hood becoming insufferable. Her stomach ached from the treatment with the whip handle. But all of this was nothing in comparison to the shame she felt at being touched between her legs.

The Princess felt the drawstring being loosened around her throat.

With a vigorous flourish the dungeon master pulled off the hood. Sempha's hair fell around her shoulders.

The five Amazons froze, their eyes wide.

The Princess could hardly take in that her four most important warriors had all been captured.

Her four comrades struggled to understand how their leader could have been taken.

The interrogators laughed. The look of astonishment on the faces of their prisoners had been worth the wait.

Sempha's disbelief turned to horror when she saw the condition of her friends. And her horror intensified when she registered what was being done to their bodies just prior to her entry into the chamber.

The dungeon master came to stand in front of his most prized subject, purposely blocking her view of the others.

"Despite our personal vendetta," he said. "You need to understand why you are here. It is simple. I need to know where we shall find the Amazon treasure. I shall question you until you tell me. Is there anything you wish to say?"

"Only that I'm stronger than you think," she snarled. "Your obscene threats don't frighten me".

"Perhaps not," he said, "But what about your lovely friends. Cercia and Tolana are still quite fresh, but your precious bodyguards have been entertaining my colleagues for quite some time already. I'm not sure how much more they can take".

"Torture me, not them, you coward," said Sempha. "Only I know the gold's location".

"Fear not," he said. "Your turn will come. I have a very special treat for you".

His palms sweated in anticipation. The device's first victim was more beautiful than he had dared imagine.

The Princess struggled, her fists clenching and unclenching. They had tied her well. The ropes bit further into her wrists and elbows with every movement.

"But I thought an exhibition might be in order," he continued, taking in the structure of her remarkable body. "You can halt the display at any time. Just give me the information I require".

The swell of her luscious globes filled his vision, exposed and vulnerable, a perfect target. She saw his eyes gorge on her tits. Sempha watched his arm rise, his hand open. There was no muscle in her breasts; nothing she could tense. She saw the slap coming but was powerless to prevent it.

Left right left.

The bound blond gritted her teeth, her face impassive.

"I will instruct each of my accomplices in turn," said the thug. "You must watch. Every time you close your eyes, the length of the victim's ordeal will be doubled. Remember – you have only to say 'stop' and your friends' agony will cease".

The dungeon master stepped aside.

The Princess saw her helpless colleagues. She was thrown back into hell.

"I'd like our honoured guest to see a sample of our work," he said. "We'll rotate the exhibition one by one. Clen, you start".

All eyes turned to Cercia. The freckle-faced Amazon was suspended upside down, naked, her feet tied four feet apart to a wooden beam. Her hands were bound behind her back. Chains ran from each end of the beam to a pulley that hung from the ceiling. Clen gripped the other end of the chain. Beneath the inverted woman was a deep vat full of water, the floor around the vessel wet.

Sempha could see that her comrade's hair was already damp; that she had already been dunked. The Princess could only guess at how Cercia had earned the scars on her pert breasts.

Clen fed the links through his hands lowering the Amazon an inch at a time. Cercia struggled, the beam swinging as her muscles flexed. Six inches from the water she tightened her abdomen and pulled up her torso. But the effort was futile. Clen held the chain still, her downward progress momentarily halted. The Amazon fought to retain the position but her stomach muscles could not take the strain. She straightened out again, her belly aching. The interrogator continued his work. An inch before the water the onlookers saw Cercia's chest expand as she filled her lungs with air.

Cercia closed her eyes. Her head entered the vat. Water ran down her nose. She felt the cold liquid encase her body. Only when the water had reached her waist did the downward motion cease. She remained still. She had learnt to preserve her air.

Everyone watched. Seconds passed, each degree of time elongated.

Fifteen seconds turned into thirty.

Half a minute became forty-five seconds.

Cercia started to move her knees and ankles. Hers was a silent fight.

Water spilled onto the stone floor.

A bubble appeared at the surface. Clen lowered her another inch.

"Release her," yelled Sempha.

"The jewels?" said the dungeon master.

Sempha closed her eyes.

"Hard to watch?" said the brute. "Pity. You've just doubled our pleasure at her expense".

Clen drove his fist into Cercia's unprotected belly, the distinctive sound of flesh on flesh echoing around the chamber.

More bubbles rose to the surface. Water cascaded over the top of the vat.

"Do it to ME!" the Princess screamed.

A minute had passed. The longest sixty seconds in Cercia's life.

The audience winced when they heard the sound of Cercia's head bashing against the inside of the vat. The circular container was too narrow for her to bend and lift herself out of the water.

Then she was still. All was quiet.

A long ominous silence.

"Release her," said the dungeon master.

Clen hauled Cercia out of the water. The moment her head broke free of the surface she coughed and spluttered, inhaling desperately. Water ran from her body, her short hair sticking to her scalp. The Amazon's chest heaved as she fought for breath. Her pink nipples stood proud, her torso covered in goose bumps.

"Onto the next," said the ogre.

Breet joined Puno at the rack. Tolana lay stretched out naked, her six foot two-inch body slick with sweat. Her long brown hair lay splayed out above her head. Puno removed the stone from under her head, placed there so she could watch the unveiling of the Princess. The chains were tight, her body taut.

The two interrogators leaned into the wheel.

CLICK. CLICK. CLICK.

The warrior shrieked, her gag deadening the sound. Clen and Puno looked down at her body, every muscle tight as she wrestled with the mechanism. Her efforts were pointless. The stretching was relentless.

CLICK. CLICK.

Tolana flung her head from side to side. Her shoulders, elbows, and knees bore the brunt of the pain. She could feel her organs being extended. The shackles cut into her flesh. Her arrow wounds re-opened, the fresh scabs pulled apart.

"Hold her there," said the dungeon master.

They locked the rack in position. No slack remained in the tortured woman's body. She was at her limit.

"Show the Princess what else we can do," said the chief interrogator, a taunting overtone in his voice.

Clen and Puno reached for the levers and brought up the spikes. For five minutes they worked on Tolana, the sharp metal points feeding off the flesh on the back of her defenseless body.

The chief of Sempha's army screamed. The Princess could only watch as blood mixed with sweat and dripped onto the floor.

They worked on Tolana until she fainted.

"Thank you," said the dungeon master. "Now the twins. First Glaina".

Amphora and Glaina were tied back-to-back, suspended naked in midair. They were spread-eagled wide, their bodies forming two X's. Their wrists and ankles were roped to beams, their limbs four feet apart. A thick chain hung from a large hook in the ceiling, the end of the chain attached to a manacle on the upside of the top spreader bar, allowing the sisters to be rotated. The bottom beam was heavy, stretching out their bodies. Their shoulders took their weight.

Ennuta and Breet had held the sisters motionless while Sempha's reveal had taken placed. Glaina had looked to her right, Amphora to her left. In preparation for the exhibition they were rotated so that the emerald-eyed twin faced her leader.

The leader gazed at her comrade. Sempha flushed. How could Glaina's escape plan have gone so badly wrong? The burns and sores on the spread-eagled Amazon bore witness to her ordeals. The wound from the brand glowed crimson against her bronzed inner thigh. The Princess noticed that both her bodyguards' armbands were missing.

"Let me explain," said the dungeon master, turning to Sempha. "Amphora was whipped in public, more for humiliation than pain. The weapon used was designed not to scar. Likewise the simple whip I used on you a moment ago".

The Princess swallowed.

"However," he continued, "Down here we prefer to use more…...more……..effective equipment. Watch".

Breet pulled back his arm, a long black strand trailing on the floor behind him. The whip flew at the defenseless bodyguard and landed on her thighs.

CRACK

Two lines of blood appeared instantly, the wound half a centimeter deep.

Glaina howled into her gag.

CRACK

The interrogator delivered a second blow across her stretched abdomen. Another line of blood, five inches long, rose as if drawn with paint.

Amphora could hear the whip. She felt her sister's body tense against the oncoming blows, then thrash when they hit. The thought of Glaina's agony made her twin wretch.

The Princess felt nauseous. The sight of torture being inflicted on her warriors was bad enough. That she was powerless to prevent it was worse.

No amount of muscle could prevent the razor-edged leather from breaking the bodyguard's skin, penetrating the flesh below. By the time Breet had finished, the Amazon's torso, breasts and thighs were a mass of deep cuts and welts. Each wound bled, the drips running down her body watered down by sweat. Glaina's head hung on her chest.

"And finally our first guest," said the ogre.

The twins were rotated so that Amphora faced Sempha. The damage to the amber-eyed twin spoke for itself. The Princess could not look at her bodyguard's ruined nipple.

Ennuta asked Breet and Puno to lower the beams so that Amphora's breasts came within reach.

"Ennuta hates beautiful women," said the dungeon master, matter-of-factly. "She told me earlier that she wanted to complete her work on the lovely Amphora".

Glaina heard nothing, but felt her sister's muscles tense as their backs brushed against each other. The twins' sweat mingled.

"No. Please don't," Glaina thought her twin said, the sound undecipherable past the gag.

"Don't you want to appear symmetrical?" asked Ennuta. Her mouth smiled, her eyes did not. Torchlight glinted off the blade in her hand.

Ennuta cupped the Amazon's left breast in her hand and got to work. Amphora's resources were already depleted. She passed out, but the ugly woman continued until she was finished. The torturer stood back to inspect her work. The warrior's left nipple resembled her right, except the mess was fresh; open and bleeding.

The dungeon master looked at the Princess. She wept.

"How touching," said the thug.

He turned to his accomplices.

"Revive the two that fainted".

Puno drenched Tolana and Amphora in freezing water. The exhausted Amazons spluttered back to consciousness.

THUMP. THUMP.

The dungeon master walked over and unlocked the door.

"Welcome, " said the ogre.

The King, Haalet, and Neepa entered the dungeon. The chief interrogator locked the door behind them.

The three newcomers looked in awe at the scene that beheld them.

The Princess's jaw dropped. So did Amphora's. Ennuta rotated the twins so that Glaina could also see the traitor. Puno raised Tolana's head so that she, too, could witness the betrayal. Cercia glared at Neepa.

Nemo approached Sempha. He stroked the whip marks on the Princess's bound body.

"It seems you've had a taste of what's to come," he said. "Remember, it is within your power to end this now".

She turned away.

Haalet and Neepa walked over to the rack. Tolana's eyes burned into the traitor. The stretched woman said something, the words indistinct.

"I see they've spared your ears," said Haalet.

He drew his dagger and placed the blade behind her left ear.

Tolana clenched her fists. She inhaled deeply. The touch of the cold steel was foreboding.

"Not so clever now my beauty?" he said. "I'll save the pleasure until later".

He sheathed his dagger.

The stretched Amazon exhaled.

Neepa flung back her curly black hair and approached the Princess. Sempha's cool blue eyes studied the spy. Memories of childhood's spent together flooded the minds of both women. They were the same height and build. Sometimes they'd been mistaken as relations.

"There's something I've wanted to do for a long long time," said Neepa.

She slapped the Princess's face, forehand.

Sempha expressed confusion, the gag preventing her from speaking.

"Why?" asked Neepa. "You want to know why?"

The Princess nodded.

"Because I want it all," said Neepa. "But I am denied the treasure by a fluke of birth".

The traitor slapped her leader again, a backhand that drove the Princess's head to one side.

Sempha brought her face around and glared at the traitor, one eye hidden behind a screen of blond hair. The sight of Neepa still in the uniform of Lumana made the Princess feel sick. The spy's bright eyes taunted the bound woman, an insolent smile on Neepa's face.

"My lord," said the dungeon master. "The Princess has been shown some options for the treatment of her comrades. Still, unfortunately for them she chose to withhold her information. It's time for her to be interrogated properly".

"Proceed," said Nemo, locking eyes with Sempha.

The dungeon master called for help from three of the guards. The men walked over to the corner of the dungeon where a large wooden screen cordoned off a part of the chamber.

No one had ever seen the device. Not even his accomplices.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said the ogre, his chest puffed out. "You are honoured to witness the unveiling of my latest invention – the most effective device for the delivery of pain yet created".

The guards pulled back the screen.

Sharp intakes of breath reverberated around the room.

The Princess laid her head back against the post and closed her eyes. The situation was hopeless. Her four most senior warriors were chained in front of her. No one in Lumana even knew she'd been captured. And even if they did, the constitution forbade anyone but her to send the army onto foreign soil.

Sempha dug deep. She would not be broken by this band of thugs. She gritted her teeth.

"You'll never break me," she snarled.

To be continued…

* * *

The following totally fictitious writings of M Coolham are intended for the sole readership of those of LEGAL AGE. The ADULT ONLY material contained within is also for personal use only where local standards permit scenes of violence, torture and sex. Please do not read further if any of these subjects offend, or if you are not of legal age.

This is a work of fiction. The author does not condone violence of any sort.

The following is under Copyright and is for your sole enjoyment. Your cooperation in not using the material in any other application without the express permission of the author is requested. Thank you.

Interrogation of an Amazon

Chapter Eleven

The Device

An enormous piece of equipment filled their vision. At first glance it resembled an iron chair. But closer inspection revealed a contraption of intense complexity; a mass of wheels, joints, and screw mechanisms.

Sempha gulped. She knew this was to be her fate.

"Be my guest," said the brute. Take a closer look," Nemo and Haalet stepped forward.

"No," said the inventor. "Let me bring it to you".

The men hauled the device into the centre of the dungeon.

"May I take a moment of your time to explain the instrument?" asked the chief interrogator, addressing his question to the King. "And how I propose to use it?"

Nemo nodded.

"The Princess will be strapped into the device," he said, motioning to five elongated metal sections. "One length for each of her limbs, and one for her back. Her arms, legs and neck will be secured".

Haalet scratched his chin.

"There is no doubt that the subject will break," the inventor continued. "The triumph over her physical ability to handle pain will be a sweet success. However, it is the taming of her spirit that will give me the greatest pleasure. That she will submit to me in front of her four most devoted subjects will be her final humiliation".

Sempha glared at the ogre. Her heart pounded. She fought to hide her fear.

"I could explain further," said the dungeon master, "But action speaks louder than words. I shall proceed".

He turned to his accomplices.

"Prepare your Amazons to be spectators," he said. "The guards will help".

In turn, Cercia, Tolana, Glaina and Amphora were released. The guards gathered them together and tied their hands behind their backs. Clen brought over a mass of collars and shackles. The four Amazons were chained together, collars around each of their necks, chains linking the collars. To Cercia, it brought back memories of the ambush and the journey to the fortress.

The guards herded the women into a position in front of the device. A solider stood next to each of the Amazons. Bound and exhausted, the Amazon warriors presented less of a threat.

"Puno," said the dungeon master. "Prepare the brazier, some water, and the strips of white metal".

The ogre turned to the four remaining guards.

"Time for the Princess," he said.

Sempha saw the thug and four soldiers walking towards her. Behind them she could see her four bound warriors. The women stood, pain etched into their faces. Cercia looked the strongest; she was the only one not bleeding.

The Princess felt the ropes fall away. Blood started to flow back into her hands. Soldiers gripped her upper arms, their fingernails pinching. She fought hard but four was too many.

While the men were busy with the Princess, Nemo, Haalet, and Neepa took the opportunity to study the device close up. The whole thing was constructed from metal. There was a seat. The five elongated pieces were cylindrical, an inch thick. The four sections identified for the victim's limbs were constructed from two equal lengths of tubing, the two lengths joined together by something resembling a ball-joint. The fifth, and longer, length was for the subject's back. It was made up of three pieces of tube, again each piece joined together by a ball-joint. Moving up from the seat, the first break behind the victim's back was just under half way up the full length. The second break was near the top end of the length, a fraction below where the victim's head would rest.

The elongated lengths for the limbs were joined to the back of the device by the same type of ball-joints.

The most striking aspect of the contraption was the number of wheels. At each ball-joint there were two wheels, one on each side of the joints. A series of screw mechanisms ran from the wheels along the lengths of tubing.

The soldiers brought the struggling Princess into the centre of the room. They threw her into the device. A guard held each of her limbs while, in turn, the dungeon master roped her wrists, ankles, and neck to the end of each of the five elongated sections. The Princess struggled but the men held her easily. By the time they stepped back to inspect their work, she was tied into the contraption, her arms and legs out straight.

"Let me elaborate on how the device works," he said. "Think of it as a reverse skeleton. It mimics the body's principle joints".

Tolana rattled her chains testing them for strength. Cercia and the twins followed suit. Their efforts were futile.

"Allow me to demonstrate," the dungeon master continued.

The ogre gripped one of the wheels next to Sempha's right elbow. He began to rotate it. The screw mechanism turned and her forearm was raised until it was at an angle of ninety degrees, highlighting her bicep. The Princess balled her fist to test the ropes. They were tight, but not uncomfortably so.

Nemo, Haalet, and Neepa looked on, intrigued. The four junior interrogators also. So far the device seemed less than effective as an interrogation tool.

The dungeon master noticed their expressions.

"Patience," he said, smiling. The inventor turned the wheel until Sempha's right arm was once again straight.

"Now imagine this. You see what occurs when I rotate the wheel clockwise. The joints bend moving with the body's natural rotation. What then will happen when I turn it counterclockwise?"

The onlookers began to understand. So did the trapped Amazons.

Sempha heard his words, recognizing the full horror of the equipment's potential. She twisted her limbs. They moved freely enough. She thought that perhaps she could avoid the worst of the torture by turning her arms and legs within the rope binding.

"Again," said the brute, enjoying the attention. "Please watch".

He rotated the same wheel, but in the opposite direction. The ball-joint began to turn. The tubing resting against the victim's forearm started to move down, slowly bending her forearm backwards in conflict with her elbow's natural movement.

The Princess felt the bones in her forearm jar against her elbow. She twisted her wrist, the new position lessening some of the pain.

The thug continued to rotate the wheel. Little by little the device pulled against her elbow joint. She managed to twist her arm again to lessen the pain, but she knew it would not be long before her elbow was broken.

She felt panic rising. Her body was slick with sweat. Her breathing quickened, her magnificent chest rising and falling. Everyone in the room sensed her fear. Some became excited, others angry.

The pain mounted. Just as her bones began to crunch against each other, the sensation odd – sickening - the dungeon master stopped and returned the wheel to its neutral position. Sempha's arm lay flat once again. Her breathing leveled.

"See this," said the inventor, pointing at the second wheel near to the elbow ball-joint. "Observe".

The Princess watched him turn the second wheel. She felt the tubing under her forearm moving again. Only this time it was forcing her forearm out sideways, away from her body. She was able to twist her arm within the bindings but, as before, she knew it would not be long before her elbow would snap.

The dungeon master searched his victim's face. Her efforts at hiding the agony were useless. He could spot the signs. The ogre began to revel in satisfaction; the years of work, motivated by a desire for vengeance against the woman who had humiliated him, were worth it.

Nemo swallowed hard; the full impact of the device's hideous capabilities registered. Haalet stood mesmerized as much by the Princess's swaying breasts as by the contraption to which she was bound. Neepa looked up at the King and grinned.

'The traitor appears to be enjoying this,' thought Nemo. 'And she seems such a gentle person'.

Cercia screamed. The gag rendered her protest ineffectual.

The wheel's tension increased. The chief interrogator knew she couldn't take much more. But he wanted to complete the demonstration before she broke. He wanted to flaunt his ingenuity.

"Those amongst you with an eye for detail," said the dungeon master, "Will have noticed that the subject can move her limbs to lessen the effect of the device. I have yet to illustrate one last feature".

He looked over to the corner.

"Puno!" called the chief interrogator. "The brazier".

His accomplice brought the pieces. He placed the brazier and a bucket of water next to the device, and handed the white metal strips to the inventor. The dungeon master placed the strips into the hot coals.

"This my friends is the cleverest part!" said the ogre proudly. "The metal strips will be heated until they are pliable. They will then be thrust into the water to neutralize the worst of the heat. Once cooler, but still soft and blisteringly hot, they will be placed across the wrists and ankles of the victim. I fear that bringing the metal straight from the coals onto the subject would produce such agony that the victim would faint. And it would be such a shame for her to miss the first phase of the device in action, particularly since we have such an attentive audience".

He looked at Sempha.

"Besides. We need answers".

His gaze lingered on the Princess, cool resistance in her eyes.

He turned back to the onlookers.

"Once applied to the subject's limb the metal restraint will start to cool. And as it cools, the metal will gather itself around the flesh - and constrict. After twenty minutes the restraint will have reduced in size by approximately a quarter. Unfortunately for the victim, flesh and muscle are too weak to resist. Once fully cold, the subject's limb will be held utterly immovable; melded to the metal tube".

He turned to face Sempha.

"No twisting and turning of the body will be possible," he said, nonchalantly. "Depending on the thickness of the subject's limbs, once the metal has cooled fully it will have cut into the flesh. Looking at our beauty here, I expect the restraint to break her skin but not pulverize her bones".

The Princess gulped.

The thug faced his audience again.

"You can appreciate, then, that once the victim is fully strapped into the device, the apparatus will be able to challenge the body's natural movements with impunity. By way of a concession to the victim's tolerance, we shall meld her limbs to the tubes one at a time. We do not want her continuously fainting".

Ennuta wiped her hands against her tunic.

"I leave it to your imagination what happens," said the brute, a serious tone to his voice, "When the throat is attached".

The Amazon warriors shrieked with terror, trying to divert the attention away from the Princess. Nemo was glad they had been gagged.

Neepa stepped forward.

"I want to congratulate you on an ingenious piece of work," she said.

Murmurs of agreement from the four accomplices.

The dungeon master bowed.

"But can I make a suggestion?" she continued.

"Of course," said the inventor, somewhat surprised.

"What about a gentle introduction?" she continued. "Perhaps the snapping of a finger or two?"

The dungeon master was about to reply, but she carried on regardless.

"No human could withstand the grinding of their elbows or knees in the manner described. We know it's only a matter of time before she talks".

Neepa turned to face the victim.

Sempha glared back. The Princess had underestimated the gag's capacity to increase her sense of powerlessness.

"But she's a stubborn bitch," said the spy. "She'll hold on as long as she can. Foolishly hoping for a nonexistent rescue party to arrive".

Glaina stamped her foot, her face crimson with rage.

"Hasn't it occurred to you Sempha," said Neepa, taunting the bound woman. "Anyone who's anyone in Lumana is in this room. The leader, the head of the army, the head of special operations, and your two most trusted companions. No one back home knows you're even missing. And even if they did, the constitution forbids any person but you from sending forces into conflict on foreign soil. How can you be saved?"

Neepa walked up to the bound woman.

The Princess looked on helplessly. The traitor studied the victim's muscled body. The whip marks acted as gruesome decoration.

Neepa stood behind the device and looked at the four Amazons. She grinned. Four pairs of eyes, burning with indignation, met hers.

The spy reached around the device and placed her hands under Sempha's breasts. The aggressor bounced the Princess's tits up and down, the flesh wobbling violently.

"So much weight," whispered Neepa into her victim's ear. "Too much for one person perhaps?"

The traitor played with the luscious globes. The men amongst the audience laughed. Ennuta too. Sempha closed her eyes, the humiliation unbearable.

Neepa came round from behind the device.

The dungeon master had enjoyed the show. But now he was ready for business. He stepped forward but the spy had not finished.

Neepa reached down and grabbed the Princess's little finger. She started pulling it backwards – hard.

Sempha's eyes widened, the gag holding back a cry.

"What do you say my lord," said Neepa, staring the King full in the eyes. "Just one finger to see if I can make her talk – to satisfy my curiosity? Of course I will have to remove the rag so she can speak".

Nemo looked across to the dungeon master who nodded.

The treacherous Amazon faced Sempha. Sweat glistened on the Princess's defenceless body. Neepa unknotted the rope and Sempha spat out the gag.

"I will never break," hissed Sempha. "Your deception has hardened my resolve".

"The gold," snarled Neepa. "Where's the gold?"

Sempha tried to lunge forward as if to bite the traitor. But her neck was tied; the effort pointless. Neepa released the finger and pulled back, aware of how dangerous the woman could be, even when bound.

The traitor approached again. Sempha bunched her fist. Neepa tried to prize it open but without luck. She called over to the guards. Two of the men came over and obliged, the spy certain she had Sempha's little finger firmly in her grasp before dismissing the men.

"I always hated you," Neepa whispered.

SNAP

Nausea overwhelmed the Princess. She leaned her head back against the device. Blood drained from her face. Her hand went limp, her little finger hanging at an impossible angle.

Neepa grabbed her index finger.

"Enough," said the dungeon master. "You've had your fun".

The traitor walked back towards Nemo, smiling at the King.

The four Amazon warriors looked on in disbelief. They could not understand how they had so badly misjudged Tolana's cousin for all these years.

"We need answers," said the dungeon master. "It's time to see the device in action".

He withdrew one of the strips from the hot coals. It glowed orange in the bright torchlight. He plunged it into the water. It sizzled and steamed.

"My lord," said Neepa, flashing her eyelashes at the King. "I want to be standing next to the Princess when she breaks. Will you join me?"

Nemo could not resist the traitors' big light-brown eyes. Her aura was that of a temptress. And he was captivated.

"With pleasure," he said, putting his arm through hers.

The dungeon master picked up a pair of tongs and withdrew the metal from the bucket.

He studied it.

"Another minute," he said, and put it back into the water.

Sempha was fully alert. Her finger hurt, but nothing she could not handle. The sound of the first restraint being prepared had brought her sharply back to her senses. The Princess heard the traitor speak.

"While we wait," said Neepa. "Can I take a trophy from her body?"

"I don't see why not," said Nemo, enjoying the way Neepa squeezed his arm. "What had you in mind?"

"A lock of hair perhaps?" said Neepa. "Or maybe a nipple?"

Sempha's eyes widened. She thrashed against the ropes. One last chance for escape before the strip of metal melded her flesh to the device. Before her elbows, her knees, her spine, were shattered beyond repair.

"See," said Neepa, pointing at the Princess. "Real fear". Nemo saw the traitor's eye gleam.

The King could begin to see a life past Sempha. He knew the Princess would soon be destroyed. The thought of having a willing Amazon as his partner, one as stunning as Neepa, made his heart flutter.

"Of course my dear," he said.

"Stand close while I work on her," said Neepa. "For years to come we'll want to remember the look on Sempha's face as we complete her humiliation – in all its delicious detail".

She pulled Nemo closer to the victim. The King was under the spell of his new Amazon friend.

"May I borrow your knife," she said.

"Wouldn't you prefer to use yours?" asked Nemo.

"Yes, of course," she grinned, her eyes sparkling. "But I don't have it with me. I know it is forbidden for a person to be armed in your presence unless first sworn into the army". She smiled. "That's a privilege I have yet to enjoy".

The King laughed.

"Here," he said, passing her his dagger.

She noticed the rubies and sapphires encrusted in the handle.

Neepa stepped forward just as the dungeon master pulled out the metal strip to check its temperature. The metal glowed orange. It smelt of charcoal.

"The first restraint's ready," he said.

"Neepa. Wait!" said the King, holding back the spy.

Everyone watched as the ogre drew the steaming metal closer to Sempha's wrist.

Rivers of sweat ran down between the Princess's quivering breasts. Her heart raced. She snatched at her breath, her chest heaving. Her body had never looked more beautiful.

The dungeon master reached down with his free hand and held her forearm flat. She bucked and twisted her arm. He pushed her wrist flat again. Once more she resisted, refusing to present him with the perfect angle for the vicious metal.

"Here," said the thug to one of the guards. "Hold her arm".

The guard walked over.

"Can I go first?' said Neepa, her eyes imploring the King.

"Please," said Nemo to the ogre. "Let Neepa have her moment. I promise this will be the last time you are disturbed".

"Of course," said the chief interrogator reluctantly. He stood back, the metal still red-hot in the tongs.

Neepa reached up and placed her mouth next to the King's ear.

"I'm going to take a nipple," she whispered, grinning at him for approval.

Nemo was smitten.

"I want you to hold her breast for me while I cut," she said, pouting.

"As you like," said Nemo.

Together they stepped forward.

Sempha glared at the King. He could not hold her gaze.

Nemo bent forward and held the Princess's left breast. Like the previous two nights, he enjoyed its weight as it rested in his hand.

The victim struggled, her free breast bouncing vigorously. The King squeezed the soft defenseless flesh, holding it steady. Sempha twisted her torso in a final attempt to save her nipple.

"Hold her still," said Neepa.

"I've got her," said Nemo.

The traitor leaned forward, the King's knife in her hand. She grasped the Princess's nipple and pulled it forward. Neepa placed the shiny blade against the elongated nipple and ran the steel up and down the pebbly pink skin.

The two women locked eyes.

"I'm going to keep this precious momento," hissed the spy. "I'll wash it and put it in a jar. It will remind me of the day I got even with you".

"Take a piece of my body if you must," snarled the Princess. "You'll never have my soul".

Two things happened so quickly. No one was truly sure how.

Neepa swung out her left leg. Her foot crunched into the dungeon master's hand, pushing the sizzling metal into his eye. Before Nemo had time to react, Neepa swung round and grabbed him from behind, the dagger held against his throat.

She was strong. Much stronger than the King.

The guards drew their swords.

"No one moves," she yelled, "Or else the King dies. Tell them, you bastard," she hissed into his ear.

A drop of blood appeared on Nemo's scraggy neck.

"Do as she says," said the King, the sharpened blade resting against his windpipe. "All of you. Obey her".

"Follow my instructions," said Neepa.

Within minutes the five freed Amazons had tied their aggressors. Haalet and the guards were chained together and manacled to the dungeon floor.

The dungeon master was strapped to the "T", his face a mass of charred flesh, his eye blank.

"Give me some time with him," said Amphora.

"No," said Glaina. "Not now".

"With any of them," she cried, looking at the four accomplices hanging upside down from the ceiling.

"No".

They bound the king. Staying close together, they walked up the stairs and into the sunlit courtyard, four swords and two knives pressed against Nemo's body.

They were allowed to proceed unchallenged. Even for the champion archers, a rescue attempt was too risky.

Horses were provided.

"Tell them Nemo," said Neepa.

"No one follows," said the King. "On pain of death".

The six Amazons rode away, the King sitting in front of Neepa on her large gray horse.

After riding for two days, and satisfied that they were alone, the Amazons released the King.

It took him six days to walk back.

* * *

"I'm sorry about your finger," said Neepa. The Princess hugged her. They had crossed the boundary into Lumana and had stopped for water.

"I had to deceive them completely," Tolana's cousin continued. "It wouldn't have worked any other way".

"A finger's a small price to pay for my life," said Sempha, "And those of the others".

"Why did you do it?" said the Princess. "Why did you risk your life? If they'd have guessed your strategy you would have been tortured more brutally than any of us".

"For Amphora," said Neepa, reaching across to the amber-eyed beauty.. "The love of my life".

* * *

Three bounty hunters stood before the huge man. The black eye patch heightened his menacing appearance. The three mercenaries had agreed to his request for a meeting away from the castle.

The big man finished describing the woman.

"Bring her to me," he said.

"What's in it for us?" they asked.

"Wealth beyond your wildest dreams," he said. "And a night with the most beautiful female you will ever see".

The three men left, each heading in a different direction. The bounty hunters had some knowledge of Lumana. Most importantly, they knew the Amazons were dangerous in the extreme.

When they were out of sight the large man sat down on a rock.

"Next time I will be alone with you," he said out-loud. "There will be no distractions. Your screams will deafen me. My mouth will be salivating from the taste of your fear. I will smell your charred flesh, the scythe burned into your chest. I shall watch while you squirm. And you will tell me everything I want to know".

He threw a stone against a tree.

"And the sense of your spirit breaking will stay with me forever".

For the first time in ages a smile crossed his cruel lips.

"No one denies the dungeon master for a third time".

To be continued…

* * *

The following totally fictitious writings of M Coolham are intended for the sole readership of those of LEGAL AGE. The ADULT ONLY material contained within is also for personal use only where local standards permit scenes of violence, torture and sex. Please do not read further if any of these subjects offend, or if you are not of legal age.

This is a work of fiction. The author does not condone violence of any sort.

The following is under Copyright and is for your sole enjoyment. Your cooperation in not using the material in any other application without the express permission of the author is requested. Thank you.

Interrogation of an Amazon

Chapter Twelve

Epilogue

Jessica put down her book. She lay back on the bed and exhaled. The toweling robe felt luxurious against her skin. The agent had sought distraction from her upcoming mission and the story had delivered admirably.

Lieutenant Hawkins had recommended the book, half joking, half seriously. She recalled his words. "Whatever happens, don't let them discover your identity. Marco is ruthless. His instinct for recognizing undercover operatives is legendary. If you're found out he'll show you no mercy".

Hawkins's thinly disguised reference to Sempha and Neepa was not lost on her. She shuddered.

She glanced at her watch. 8.20pm. Later than she thought.

Jessica got up and looked out over the Montevideo skyline. The lights were pretty, dazzling against the crimson sunset. About to turn away she noticed her reflection, ghostly in the hotel window. She ran her hands down her muscular arms and across her taut abdomen.

'Like an Amazon,' she smiled to herself.

At five foot ten with curly black hair, Amphora's face, Glaina's eyes, and Sempha's body, she was a striking woman. And she knew it.

The investigator was under no illusions that she had been selected for this job on account of her looks. The infamous Marco, the most wanted drug baron in the country, had a liking for tall dark muscular women. For years the authorities had tried to infiltrate his organization without success. Six first-rate detectives had met grisly ends, their bodies dumped in public car parks, warning notes attached to their chests.

The agency had decided to try another strategy – seduction. Agent Jessica Saunders had been with the department for three years. Her record spoke for her abilities; leader of a team responsible for nine major busts. After years of intensive training, at twenty-seven years old this was to be her first solo undercover assignment.

The authorities were desperate.

Jessica had chosen to accept the offer for more than just career advancement. There were personal reasons. Two of her siblings had fallen prey to the scourge of heroine. She sought revenge on the big hitters; the invisible faces behind the cartels. Not for her the arrest of minor street dealers. She wanted to go straight to the top.

Two days ago snouts had told Hawkins that Marco would be at the Flamingo Club - tonight. 'Operation Raven' had been put into action.

An hour later, showered and made-up, she stood in front of the room's floor-to-ceiling mirror, her hands on her hips. Jessica studied her reflection. The operation's budget was generous; she'd purchased an outfit she knew he wouldn't be able to resist. The black skintight cat suit clung to her body like a second skin. The zip started at her crotch and ran all the way up to her neck. She lowered the shiny silver tag another inch. The costume was open to just below her breasts giving her magnificent cleavage full vent. The lycra strained to contain her ample chest.

Her white thong was invisible.

She stood at six foot one in her black patent-leather stilettos. Elastic straps ran under her feet holding the cat suit in position. A thick silver belt accentuated the slimness of her waist, in sharp contrast to the width of her powerful shoulders. There was no place for concealed weapons. That was the idea – Marco trusted no one. The thought of being frisked by one of his revolting cronies disgusted her. Better to demonstrate in direct fashion that she came unarmed.

The agent checked her make-up, the dark bronze blusher amplifying her high cheekbones. The pale-green glitter eye shadow complimented her slightly slanted emerald eyes. Glossy blood-red lipstick flushed out her full lips.

Her long curly hair hung mid-way down her back – simple. No adornments.

The whole look was way too tarty for her liking. But she'd received good intelligence about his preferences and had followed them to the letter.

'If this doesn't get you nothing will,' she thought. 'You bastard'.

Jessica picked up her tiny black bag. It contained some make-up, a couple of credit cards, a little cash, ID with the name of Margery Perman, a tissue, a pen, some business cards promoting her supposed photographic company, and a slim red mobile phone with built-in camera.

The Flamingo Club was a six-minute cab ride away but she didn't want to leave a trail. She would walk. Jessica put on a lightweight full-length overcoat. The non-descript grey and shapeless cut disguised her provocative outfit.

The bill had been settled in advance; there were no extras. Nothing in the room was of consequence. She had no intention of returning to the hotel.

The detective took the lift down to the lobby. A pair of Japanese businessmen stared at her, mouths open, when she entered the elevator on the tenth floor. Jessica paid no attention. She was used to being noticed.

She passed through the revolving doors and out into the refreshing cool of evening. Uruguay in October was very pleasant. She turned left and strode off down the well-lit street.

A short thickset man saw her exiting the hotel and sat up. He put his half-eaten burger on the dashboard and spoke into a radio.

"Rhino here. She's on her way. Heading south".

A voice crackled back.

"We see her".

Other radios broke their silence.

"Roaming party. This is Tiger. Raven's on her way. Proceed as planned".

Five engines in different streets fired up. A red Ducati pulled away, slowly so as not to attract onlookers. Three avenues south an old beige Cadillac Eldorado, one of its headlights dim, slipped into the traffic. Two roads to the west a white Volkswagen Golf drove out of a car park. One block north a bright yellow Suzuki waited for a truck to pass before starting off.

Three streets from the Flamingo Club a non-descript black Ford van eased down the road. The back section of the van had no windows; the glass behind the driver and passenger had been blacked out.

Tap.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Tap.

The driver banged on the rear partition.

The four men inside donned their balaclavas.

"No guns," the tall man had said. "Knives, but only in an emergency. She's good. Real strong. Black belt karate. Gold medal judo. Fit as hell. But with four of you, and back-up – you'll get the job done. No noise. No witnesses". He had dragged on a cigarette. "And most important: no marks. Chameleon wants her perfect. Remember, Marco thinks he's going to have her. We know he's about to be disappointed. She'll be no use as a bargaining tool if she's damaged". The man knew he could use her two ways: to get even with Marco, his archrival, or to negotiate the release of his brother, incarcerated in a federal institution.

The men had nodded their understanding. Ten thousand dollars awaited each of them if their mission was successful.

Jessica pulled the collar up around her face. Although this was the safe part of town, and the street was busy with Saturday night revelers, there were still too many creeps around at this time of night. She had memorized the route. The agent saw the flashing neon of Swami's Deli and turned right. She went over the plan again.

She had met Marco twice before. She knew he liked her. Really liked her. She had rebuffed him each time, forcefully on the second occasion. Jessica knew he would come on to her again tonight. Fine. That was the idea. Once inside his house she knew what to do. The department had briefed her on the drug gangs that scarred the city. The Names, The Animals, The Sharks. Hawkins had guaranteed, rock solid, that no one outside the agency, absolutely no one, knew who she was, where she was, or what she did. He had assured her that to the outside world she was a freelance photographer on an assignment.

The investigator turned left at the maple tree. The long street ahead was deserted. Shuttered industrial buildings lined the pavements. The place smelt of decay; most of the streetlights were out of order. The only sound was the click click click of her heels. Jessica quickened her pace.

When she was half way down the road she noticed an old Cadillac parked at the end. Par for the course in this part of town. The sound of a motorbike heightened her curiosity and she turned around. Its headlight dazzled her; she couldn't see that it was a Ducati – and that the bike behind it was a Suzuki. Jessica looked ahead again and noticed that a white Volkswagen had just pulled up behind the Cadillac.

'Cause for alarm?' she wondered.

'Stay calm,' she told herself. 'Be aware, but stay calm'.

All week the agent had been on edge in anticipation of this evening. She thought back to the tearful farewell she had had with her younger sister a few days back.

"Where are you going?" Sarah had asked.

"To Brazil," Jessica had said. "Photography job".

"E-mail when you get there," Sarah had said through sniffles.

Jessica hated lying. Especially to Sarah. But it was the only way. Just like Neepa, she knew that deception was an integral part of getting the job done. Jessica thought back to the book and smiled. Those heroines and the hideous adversaries! Jessica had thought that maybe the King and the Princess would fall in love. The agent had never been good at guessing story outcomes.

'Thank goodness it's fiction' she thought.

Her sandal splashed in a puddle. Dirty water soaked her foot. She snapped out of her reverie.

"Damn" she said out-loud.

Jessica looked up. Only another couple of hundred yards and she'd be on the main drag. Well lit. Loads of people.

The motorbikes had passed her and had pulled over at the end of the street, near the Volkswagen. One of the bikes appeared to have a mechanical problem, the other had stopped to help.

She had been distracted by the noise of the bikes, the memory of her sister, the puddle, the book. So she was surprised when a black van pulled level.

The passenger wound down the window.

"Excuse me," said a foreign-sounding woman. "Do you know how I get to the Flamingo Club?"

"Sure," said Jessica, walking over to the van. She declined to say they shared a destination.

Both passenger and driver were dressed for a party. They had the colouring of locals.

"Thanks," said the foreign woman. "I'm Christina by the way. And this is Maria".

"You look alike," said Jessica.

"Yes," said Maria, tapping the steering wheel. "We're cousins".

"Here's our map," said Christina. "It's a bit feint. Can you see it OK?"

Jessica peered into the cab.

The hinges and lock on the rear doors had been oiled and tested a hundred times. They opened without a sound.

The agent's peripheral vision picked up a reflection in the chrome speedometer. Something was moving behind her. She lashed out, her heel catching one of the men in his groin. She turned. There were three more. A vicious karate chop to the neck of one, a kick to the stomach of another.

The fourth man produced a can. Mace! The detective lashed out at his hand just as he let off the spray. The worst of the gas was deflected. But the potent fumes disorientated her.

Jessica felt an arm across her throat. She was pulled back against the van's side door.

"Not so fast," hissed the passenger.

The investigator reached up and tugged at Christina's forearm.

Three of the men approached the trapped woman. Christina threw the agent forward. The gang caught her. A fist impacted against Jessica's taut abdomen, knuckles meeting solid muscle. Before she could react they swiveled her around and slammed her chest against the van.

Jessica smelt the chloroformed rag pressed against her nose. She slumped into their arms.

***

The detective awoke. She tried to bring her hand up to her aching forehead - but her wrists were handcuffed behind her back. The men had removed her coat. She lay face down on the van's metal floor, her elbows roped together.

She heard a man's voice, muffled through her semi-conscious haze.

"How long till we get there?"

"At least four hours," said another.

"Let's see what she looks like close-up," said the first man. "See if she's anything like her photos".

Rough hands grabbed her arms and turned her over. She lay before them, focus returning to her eyes. Four masked faces looked down at her. The gang sat on benches running along each side of the van.

The men gaped.

"Fuck. She's gorgeous".

With her shoulders forced back, her breasts were thrust forwards. The cat suit was strained to bursting-point.

Gorilla reached down to her zipper.

"Four hours," said a man. "Plenty of time for us all".

The leader gripped Gorilla's wrist.

"Remember. Chameleon wants her perfect. Leave her. You'll get your chance".

The van turned onto the highway. Cheetah – alias Maria - hit the throttle. She spoke into a radio.

"Raven aboard".

Chameleon didn't reply. He flicked a switch on his intercom.

"Hyena. Raven's being brought in. I'll need some information. Get ready".

Hyena leaned back in his chair.

'Could it be the Raven in the photo?' he wondered. He opened his desk drawer. A beautiful bronze skinned woman with green eyes and dark curly hair gazed back at him.

'Could this be her?'

He lit a cigar.

"I do hope so," he said.

To be continued……………

* * *