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Ch 24
The Cornu
The setting sun bathed all the figures in the garden an orange glow. Lila, between gasping breaths could not appreciate the beauty of the sunset, which she hoped would be her last. Aisha brought the cornu from the workshop and gave it to Manu.
It was a curved rod of metal, iron, to be precise, tipped by a four bladed arrow of steel. Like a broadhead arrow, the blades shone malevolently in the setting sunlight. The blades would be blunt, Lila knew, to stretch without cutting, to hurt without tearing. She shuddered at the thought of the broad blades inserted, stretching, perhaps even rupturing her sphincter. She could of course take it in the vagina; it would hurt less that way.
She drunk again of the Gatorade Aisha offered her, in short sips, interrupted by gasping, labored breaths. Again she regretted drinking it, but there was nothing she could do. After the need for air came the need for water, and her body betrayed her every time, drinking the proffered fluid, as greedily as her tortured body would allow.
Manu approached her with the cornu. Aisha helped her up, holding her by the waist, and Manu placed the cornu on the cross. She could feel the tip of the instrument, at her pussy’s entrance.
“Remember,” he whispered in her ear, “take it in the ass.”
She had very little breath to answer, and what breath she had, she did not want to waste in answering; instead, she gasped, hoarsely:
“I love you.”
She let herself down on the bladed head. She found out she did have enough breath to scream.
It was tearing her asshole. The four blades were not blunt as she expected; they were sharp, razor sharp. She screamed as each blade cut through her anus, and tore through her sphincter. She fell on the cornu violently, surprised. Why did Manu tell her to do that? And why were the blades sharp? They were supposed to be blunt. Did someone make a mistake? Why did he do that to her?
She felt a warm liquid, blood filling her rectum and spilling out of her. Then she understood. She opened her eyes and looked at the figure of her lover, standing, dejected in front of her. She gave him a weak smile and mouthed the words:
“Thank you.”
Of course. The sharp blades that replaced the blunt ones had been ordered by Manu. He also recommended that she take it up her ass. The pain would be more, both at the first, brutal, insertion, and each time she rose up, to breathe. But also, the sharp blades would cut, each time, deeply into her ass, tearing open the blood vessels that surrounded it. She might even bleed to death; that would be a faster, more merciful death than the agony that she would endure otherwise. She pulled herself up, once more, feeling the blades inside her, turning her ass into hamburger.
It was dark; in the night, several torches lit the scene in the garden. The executioner, standing in front of his creation, the slave girl, barely moving now, hanging from her nails and, kneeling beside him, a second slave girl, tears on her eyes.
The sheik waddled in, unnoticed by the tortured figure on the cross.
The three of them approached the cross, and stood around Lila. Her eyes opened, her vision blurry; it would be soon now.
“Manu, my friend,” the sheik’s voice had a more than a trace of irony in it. “You once asked me to sell you the slave. Are you still interested now?”
Oblivious to the irony Manu did not even think it for a moment, “Yes; I’ll give you $250,000 for her.”
That was almost all the money he had saved. A generous offer for just about any prime slave, but an absolutely foolish one for a girl as destroyed as this one.
The sheik raised an eyebrow, looking at his torturer, “A generous offer indeed.”
He gestured Aisha closer to the cross and helped her lift the exhausted slave up. Lila gasped for breath, drawing deep, thirsty breaths into her starved lungs. Despite the renewed pain on her wrists, feet and ass, she did not even moan, unable to waste the energy, or breath that a moan or complaint would take.
“Let’s ask our victim, shall we?” he said with an evil grin on his face.
“Lila,” he said, “I have offered to sell you to Manu here, and he has offered $250,000 for you.”
She looked at him, uncomprehending.
“Shall I sell you to him, or shall I let you hang on the cross, until you die?” He asked her.
“I said I will buy her!” Manu interrupted. “Sell her to me.”
Lila shook her head, her vision clearing. Tears came to her eyes; she smiled at her lover:
“Let me hang.”
Her body, released by the sheik, fell with a jolt that shook her to the bones. The pain that coursed up her arms and legs and up her ass too, lashed her worn out frame with a new lash of agony. Despite her exhaustion she could not help screaming once more.
The sheik turned around, “Come see me when she’s done.”
And gesturing to Aisha to follow him, he left the yard and returned to his palace.
On the cross, Lila blew a kiss towards her lover/executioner.
She would not last long, her ass bled freely again, and the wounds on her feet and wrists, reopened by the last jolt, resumed bleeding briskly. The air she had breathed, when supported by the sheik, only took her so far. Her vision blurry from hypoxia, she gathered all her strength and, braving the pain that raced up her arms and legs, she pulled herself up on her nails:
“I love you.”
She said before falling, utterly exhausted, to hang, limp, from the nails. Then all went black.
She did not last much longer. The shallow flickers of breath that still shook her worn frame gave way to final, terminal spasms that did not move air as much as they shook her chest. Her final gasp, when it came, silent, gurgling, was an anticlimax of sorts.
Manu, eyes blurred by tears, felt it more than heard it. He held her head tenderly and kissed the blood stained lips, already turning blue, of his beloved. He sought for help, to take her off the cross but no one was around. Somehow, it felt improper to leave her body hanging there, under the night sky. After a while, two guardsmen passed by and he ordered them to take the cross down. One look at his face and they saluted and did his bidding without any comments.
Once the cross lay flat on the grass, it was technically easy for him to remove the nails from her hands and feet. He cried when, removing her from the cornu, he saw the ragged mess the four bladed arrow head had made of her anus. He laid her on the gurney, legs straight together, and her hands crossed over her belly. He covered her inert body with a sheet and stopped to kiss her lips once more before covering her face, now finally at peace. Alone, he wheeled her body back to the basement.
He deplored leaving her alone, even for the few minutes he expected his interview with the sheik would take. He was getting fired, he was sure. After that, he would return and make sure she was properly buried. There was just the spot, in the garden, in a place few people went to, but it was shady and had nice flowers. She would like that.
His heart heavy, he went up the stairs.
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