Castle. I think I know just the spot for this one. Yes, right between those juicy thighs of yours. I bet a whore like you is always getting her clit tickled by some stupid stud. Well I think that slutty lovebud needs a proper punishment. Yeah, I think a good clit burning is just what you need!
War victims. The much-feared Hungarian trappers attacked her house in the middle of the night. They stabbed the Governor to death and captured his wife… The only survivor, a servant who hid behind the curtains told a bloodchilling tale… There were lots of them. They raped her, one after the other, and they dragged her to the patio and made her suck their dirty dicks! They hit her with their batons and they put a pick in her… in her… I can’t… it was too horrible! Do you mean that the bastards put the handle of a pick right inside Madame de Boiseau? Yes, yes, General… right up!
Crusades. The Christian prisoner. “Well, m’lady, I perceive that your long spell here has taught you humility. M’lady does not find me as repulsive as she once did. If your progress continues, I shall order the blacksmith to break the iron belt. You will have a servant’s clothes and will serve me at table… Under the table and on your knees, of course. For the moment, however, you will pay lip service to me. Open your mouth.”
Zora is stretched. Madame Charlie knew all about Mister Thunder and his unusual tastes. She gave orders for Zora’s narrow anus to be stretched, not this time by a penis, by specially-designed punishment dildoes of different sizes. The dildoes were designed not to tear the sphincter muscle. In this way Zora’s anus would be stretched but not ruined. It was what they had done to Madame herself when she was young. Mister Thunder, as she knew only too well, took pleasure in putting large objects into small anuses.
Hell’s own sect. The terrible thwack of heavy wood sinking into her soft breast is followed instantly by the sinister counting. “Three blows..’ The crypt becomes a resonance chamber, insistently calling up the Lord of the Abysses. The rod comes down more than a dozen times before the warm, sickening vapors rising from ventilation holes in the iron door fill the chapel with the smell of Hell itself. From the well itself a kind of viscous sighing can be heard. Marie Louise can hardly stand the punishment. The terrible ointment is burning into her breasts. Each blow of the rod is like a hot iron branding her breast.