The seventeen-year-old was more worried than ever. Till now she had thought (better say: hoped) of this fair as some kind of perverted tupper-ware party: whip producers were presenting their summer collection, maybe with a bound slavegirl draped at the stand so the prospective buyers could test the new products on her back. But what she saw told her in utmost cruelty that her ideas had been far from reality. On the last twenty metres the way was flanked by twelve wooden crosses; six on the left side were facing six on the right. And each was carrying the pain-flooded body of a slavegirl. The poor victims had been nailed (historically not fully correctly) through palms and soles. At least the coarse nails had been driven into the flesh at a special angle to avoid contact with bones or medianus nerves.
This was saved for TRUE punishment. Apart from the four rough irons only ropes around the upper arms and a small ledge under their maltreated feet took the slave’s weight. Each girl had been crucified at dawn, replacing the predecessor from the last day & night. Without the ledges they could never manage to hold up their ribcages to keep on breathing for 24 hours. Nevertheless every breath took extreme efforts, their lungs seemed trying to slide into the girl’s viscera. All twelve girls had stopped screaming long ago, not due to the lack of pain but due to the lack of oxygen. And still more than 9 horrible hours to go.
.. Grand Mistress guided Her retinue into the Lane of Crosses. Now, with the rising darkness, an additional attraction was shown to advantage. At the crosses’ bases fires had been lighted to illuminate the gruesome scenery. Under the crucified girl’s feet concave heat shields run inconspicuously around the heat-proofed beams, so the girls wouldn’t burn slowly to death. Nevertheless the hot air waved up to their cramping bodies, adding itself to their sufferings.
Michelle turned her eyes away, shunning the sight, while Kate sought every detail with a hardened face. This was the lowest level of cruelty she’d expected. Eventually Vanessa had to pass by the first two crosses. She felt sick confronted with this exhibition of slow agony. Leaving the crosses behind, they approached the main entrance: not a normal door but a huge portal with stone steps in front. To the left and right of the steps ashlars served as pedestals for two motionlessly cowered naked slavegirls. Held by heavy, mediaeval-looking chains, they rest on their knees and elbows.
Their heads where forced backwards in the same manner Vanessa had been introduced to during her ride. With their smooth, black hair bound to the arse-hooks the slaves had to look straight forwards. Both seemed to be very young but fully developed and both were adorned with a full body-painting in a dark, marbled grey. They were draped just like these statues in Europe, on old bridges’ parapet and wall ends or in front of palaces. No gargoyles, but stony gate keeper in form of lying or sitting lions or fabulous creatures. The closer Vanessa was forced to get the more of the odd details she made out at the girls: contact lenses gave them yellow reptile’s eyes. Large ring-gags held their mouth open permanently and disclosed deeply split tongues and sharpened teeth filed to pointed fangs.
Semen indicating recent oral rapes ran from the corners of their mouths like slaver. Black lips and heavy eye shadow created sharp contrasts to the anthracite face colour, additional dark make-up let the cheek bones stand out dramatically. The effect was amazing. In the unsteady, mysteriously flickering light of the flames the two girls indeed looked like made of stone; sculptures of enchained and enslaved succubi. The Grand Mistress dragged Her slaves up the steps and spoke to Kate and Vanessa: “What’s up? Thinking about girl-girl-action with such tongues and teeth? Maybe I’ll give both of you these modifications, just for your pleasure, of course.
” Again it was Vanessa who answered for them: “Anything Grand Mistress wishes.” The Italian girl was highly shattered and had at more than one time nearly lost her grip on the evil hook in her behind. One thing was for sure now: this was no stylish inner city SM-In-club where bored, hip yuppies got a little bit kinky – this was REAL! All five entered the building with Grand Mistress Gillian mercilessly pulling at the chain while the horizon was turning its colour into blood red. Actually there were two portals, one after another. The first led them into some kind of vestibule with only a huge antique counter on the right as single equipment. Behind this furniture a petite young woman stood, not older than twenty and with a sweet smile on her pretty face.
She was the same type of girl as Michelle. Though not so stunning beautiful as the long-haired slavegirl, she was doubtless attractive; like the nice, innocent girl next door. So you didn’t expect her wearing such a kinky outfit – not that it didn’t look good on her! The long, almost elegant dress made of shiny black rubber and fitted with a noble corset was clearly a Mistress’ outfit, but around her neck she bore a heavy leather slave-collar. Due to this combination Vanessa wasn’t sure of the woman’s status. The receptionist welcomed the Mistresses and let Them sign in, handing first Grand Mistress Gillian, then Inferior Mistress Zo?n electronic writing pad similar to the boards couriers had.
That had been the last hurdle. By pushing a hidden button, the receptionist opened the inner portal. She smiled her sweet smile, the same she had greeted her neighbours this morning with: “Welcome to our church where we pray to pain!” HEAVEN’S GATE The turbine house’s interior was a hall of titanic dimensions. The ancient turbines and generators were still resting in their positions, but between their foundations all forms of abnormities took place, behind every corner unspeakable monstrosities mocked at humanity in the worst ways imaginable. Racking, stretching, pain-bondage. Piercing, branding, watersports; you name it, you’ll find it.
Slavegirls got fucked with rotating wire brushes, had their nipples slow-cooked and their bodies flayed with burning whips. Women were twelve months pregnant with boiling enemas. Flesh showed all degrees of destruction: beaten, strapped, switched, birched, caned, tawsed, lashed, whipped, cropped, flogged, flagellated, castigated, scourged. Slavemaids regularly sprayed the different areas with water from high-pressure hoses, washing away gallons of blood into drains. A powerful ventilation system took the different smells of sweat, urine and other body wastes out and left only the musky odour of leather and the sweet, light scents of blood and fear inside the complex. Hell and paradise had never before come so close to each other. The very first impression that hit Vanessa was the screaming.
A cacophony of agony from thousand throats was creating a deafening loudness though most of the victims were heavily gagged. The blonde hobbled behind her slave-mates through scenes of pure horror. There seemed to be no organisation, no program and no allocation of places. Wherever space was, a girl was tortured. Unknown to the Italian, the fair followed a strict plan to regulate the course of events. A place had been assigned to every exhibitor and all knew what they wanted to show to the audience. But now, with the fair be heading for its climax and with more visitors than ever, thronging and celebrating their perversity, this Sodom & Gomorrah just had to blast an inexperienced slavegirl’s shattered mind.