This is a work of fiction which is based in historical fact. It is intended for Adults only.


Welcome to Hell

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A priest read out the sentence, his voice full of righteousness. His eyes full of religious zeal:

"Orders are given from the Lords of the Holy Office of the Inquisition, the Moorish woman is to be tested. She has been accused of witchery, as heretic, irreverent to the host, and to the image of the Virgin Mary. She is to be given the chance to confess to her sins …."

The tribunal had spoken…

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The gag had been placed in her mouth at the questioning to keep her from calling upon the Devil to help save her. The men with their lust filled evil eyes had seen no reason to free her mouth as they stripped her of her of all of her clothing. Hard hot hands had roughly touched and probed her. Mercilessly they had looked for any sign of a Devil's teat and found nothing. All the while demanding that she confess so that they might grant leniency. Their laughter filled her ears at her helplessness.

The monk in the corner piously watched as the man in charge spoke.

"You could make this so easy upon yourself. Just confess that you are the Devil's whore. Receive the Lord Jesus and be saved…"

His eyes lifted from where she lay at the mercy of his men.

"Monk, you see how she refuses our kind offer to save her from the fiery pits of hell"

Lifting the quill, the monk takes pen to ink," Yes my son, her silence damns her"

Even as the words were being said, her screams of outrage and fear could be heard through the gag, hands were holding her down as knife dry shaved all the hair away from her head and body. Her thick mane of black hair now lay strewn around the cell floor. The curls that had covered her womanhood since reaching puberty gone. Cruel hands crushed her tender flesh.

Hands lash her wrist together then lift her to the hook in the ceiling. Her body now hangs unprotected. Her head sags with exhaustion from the last few days. Her eyes widen with terror as she can see the table where the instrument to her 'salvation' lay beneath a rough covering just awaiting the hands of the Master Interrogator, the Master Tormentor, the Dungeon Master.

All the smirking smiles the men had been wearing leave their faces as the booted foot steps of his approach could be heard. He was coming. His voice was low, clear and strong as he stepped into the dungeon.

"Monk. Has the witch confessed and repented?"

The Monk's voice shook just the slightest bit as he looked into the soulless eyes of Dungeon Master.

"N…n…no… she has said nothing"

The Master walked a full circle around the woman examining her. He never touched her with more than his eyes but her terror was so complete urine ran down her legs puddling on the stone floor beneath her. His body blocked her view as he lifted the cloth from the table and removed something from the table before returning to her.

With rapid movement he puts the collar around her neck, his hand forcing her head upwards even as he placed the heretic's fork in place. Each end of it has two prongs, the central bar connected to the collar. The sharp cold metal prongs now rest against her chest and under her chin. The forks weren't designed to kill. Her head no longer sagged as anguish filled her eyes.

The cloth gag was ripped from between dried lips but speech was impossible without forcing the sharp prongs deeps into her own flesh.

"Plead for your worthless soul witch"

She whimpered in distressed fear.

His dead evil eyes slid up from the collar then met and captured her gaze.

"Only through worship of the Devil would you have the strength to remain silent. Our path is clear."

He turned and lifted the whip from the table. Walking behind her he flexed his muscles. Without warning he let the whip fly, the end snapping on flesh. The sound bouncing off walls. Her body arches in pain and her scream was two fold. The first for the pain in the center of her back, the second for the pain in her chin and chest.

"See Father, it is through the loving kiss of the Churches Grace she will find Redemption"

Again the whip connected. Flesh raised as did her voice. Her entire body arching in pain. Her head thrown back trying to prevent the forks from being forced deeper.

"Father the bible is quite clear on the matter 'Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.'"

The whip connected with the small of her back, then moved on to first one hip then the other. On and on it went. Her back became a mass of raised bleeding whelps.

"I think that means she should suffer. Don't you agree Father?"

He stepped forward with the wide swing. The air whistled with the sound of the whip cutting through the air as it wrapped around her torso. The end biting into her breast. Blood leaked from the corner of her mouth where she had bitten her lip trying to hold the sound in.

" Father. I think she is probably very hungry and thirsty. This is hard work."


They took her down from where she limply hung, binding her over a rough hewn wooden horse. The wood cutting into her back, her body arched. Her legs are spread wide, angled toward the floor. Her arms are pulled high so her body is stretched. There is nothing to support her head so for the first time in hours the forks aren't cutting into her flesh. She is totally vulnerable to them.

"Devils-whore you have fed at the Devil table. Now lets see if you can find nourishment at the Lords."

With those words he pushed the loin cloth aside, taking his cock into his hand, then looking down, forces his cock past unresisting lips deep into her throat. She is totally helpless as he face fucks her. His body lunging. His balls slapping her nose and eyes. She holds her neck stiff against the force of his body. The ever present fork preventing even thoughts of trying to escape. On and on it goes, each thrust going deeper. His rhythm changing. Each time he goes deep he slows the thrust. His balls coming to rest on her nostrils depriving her of Life giving air. Every muscle in her body stiffening.

"Father just look at her. Look at the way her throat works around me. Look at the way her whole body stiffens and clutches. Look at the sweat on her body. She is begging for more I think. In fact I think she just might be liking this a little to much."

With that he released his load in her throat. Holding himself there so she has no choice but to swallow his cum. Finally he pulls himself clear of her and wipes his cum coated cock on her face.

"I think she needs a little drink of water, don't you Father?"

With that he walks to the table in the corner and returned with a ring gag. He forces her mouth open and puts the gag in place. Next the puts a funnel into the perfect circle. He next places a cloth over her nose. His mocking eyes looks into hers never leaving as he speaks.

"Damn, there doesn't seem to be any water left. I guess we'll just have to make do."

Walking to the side of her head, caressingly he handles his flaccid cock. Taking aim he lets a steaming stream of urine fill the funnel. She has no choice but to drink it all or drown. Soon each of the guards and the monk has taken turns at the witchy urinal. Her stomach becomes just a little more distended with each contribution until she is filled almost to bursting.

"Father, thinks you she looks to comfortable?"

His smile full of purpose as he moves between her legs. Using pulleys he moves her legs upwards. With each pull her stomach shifts so that it rests against her lungs. Breathing becomes almost impossible becoming more painful with each movement..

The Master walks to the corner table. This time when he returns his cock is covered in a leather studded sheath.

"Father I think maybe I need to mix up the contents just a little."

With that he rips into her dry sex. The devices shredding delicate tissue. Her channel becoming slick with blood. Every movement, every moment becomes a study in torture. She feels as if she will suffocate any second and begins to welcome it.

In and out he pounds her. Punishes her for her sins until she is unconscious.

She awakes to find herself upside down, his booted feet just before her eyes. Her legs are open wide. Her entire body in constant unrelenting pain. She is sure she has reached the limit of pain. Nothing can make her hurting any worse than she is in that moment. Without breaking a sweat he proves her wrong.

"Father, look at the blood bubbling out that nasty slit of hers. I think she's trying to escape the hand of justice."

Suffering beyond anything she could imagine exploded inside her even as the smell of her woman's flesh being cauterized by the white hot iron in his hands reached the Master's nose. Her body goes into a fit of spasms, reminding him of a hapless fish on the end of a hook.

"I think that woke her up and put a little life back into her for us. I think it is proof the Lord God approves of our methods Father"

Unholy laughter fills the room as the heretic's fork and gag ring is removed, in their place a brack was fitted around her head then locked into place. It covered her eyes, a balled piece forced into her mouth.

"Father, she is held tight in the Devil's clutches. I fear she will never repent. She will go into the fires of hell only to become one of his unholy minions. I fear she will be sent back to beckon righteous men to their doom. To breed an unholy army of demons. It is only through our good works that she may become worthy of Our Lord God's Devine Mercy "

Even as the words fill her mind, she feels the hands of the guards on her bruised battered body as she is placed upon a rack Her limbs attached at each corner. Then she can hear the crank. The slack is gone, limbs pulled tight, joints stretched just short of destruction.

"Father, she can not be allowed to suckle demon children."

Her ears strain to hear what is going on even as male hands grip her breast. Strong fingers twist her nipples. Behind the gag she screams with pain. There is no where to hide. No way to get away from it. His fingers grasping her nipples pulling them hard then letting go so they snap back into place.

"Father can you hear the pleasure in her voice? This just can't be allowed."

She can feel a rope being wound tightly at the base of each breast. Blood flow is stopped and her breasts begin to swell, all the while his hands are on her. He is in no hurry as he lets the ropes do their work. The men watch as her breast turn pink, red, then blue.

"Such a shame Father."

His words are just a whisper in the silence of the dungeon..

The guards watched as the Master lifted the iron fork. Even these hardened men winced as he shoved the fork through her breast. Lifting the mangled flesh high as the red hot pincers closed over her nipple. Ripping it from her chest even as it sealed the large gapping wound. First one then the other is taken from her.

She can hear the stirring of coals. Then it came the ripping of flesh. Everything became a ruthless fog of unrelenting pain. Insanity engulfed her. Everything that had made her human was lost for long moments. She was nothing more than a breathing bleeding slab of meat. Pain flowed like water leaving no part untouched. She lost control of her bowels as she realized that hell did exist and she was living in it.

Then she knew nothing.

As her eyes opened she realized time had lost all meaning. She had no clue how long she had been here. How long they'd had control of her world. Hours, days, weeks, years, it could have been any of these. The darkness she encountered was complete. The gag in her mouth makes breathing next to impossible. She's upright, her legs bent back, attached to a bar. Her spine and shoulders arched as far as they could go. Her mutilated body is beginning to loose the fight for survival as she weakens. She has gone beyond pain into a hazy world of numbness.

"Father, No God fearing good Christian woman would loose control of her bodily functions like that. With every passing test I am more sure our duty is a sacred trust."

Lifting the choke pear from the table he walked to where she is. His hands slide over her body, over her mangled breast, over her stomach to the shaved mons. Hands snake around her hips to the small of her back. The cold instrument used in the gentlest of caresses. Down it slides between her ass cheeks. His arms sliding around her in an uncompromising embrace hold the smooth pear against her entrance. With a single ripping push he forces it past her sphincter until all that remained outside her body is the ornate key. His nimble fingers begin turning it as if she is nothing more than a wind up toy. Inside her the pear begins to open. The spikes begin to emerge. Her bowel is stretched and perforated. Her gut immediately begins cramping. He takes his time all the while holding her close giving the illusion of a lover's tender embrace. His movements are slow, calculated, letting long minutes pass between every turn. Stretching the agony out as long as possible.

When the key could no longer be twisted and the cried deep in her throat had stilled, his attention turned to her exposed sex. Using gentle fingers he spreads her scorched lips. Pushing the hood back he exposes her clitoris to his gaze.

"Father, see this nub of flesh. Watch what happens to her when I do this"

His fingers caressed her. Despite everything. Despite the pain she felt. Despite the fear. Despite the despair. Her body reacted in a purely animalistic way. Her clit filled with blood. Hardened under the soft caress of her nemesis. His torment became something else. On and on it went taking her to the brink. Again and again persistently, relentlessly, pitilessly, remorselessly, he took her to the edge of madness. Her body stiffened as it reached for release only to be denied.

"This Father is the where he resides. This is the Devil's heart incarnate in woman's flesh."

The Master Torturer's voice lowers to a whisper.

"She can not help what she is"

Lifting the razor shard of glass, he sliced through the knot of nerves in a single swipe removing her clit and throwing it into the fire.

Her body goes into complete shock. She can hear the sizzling over the muffled scream.

"Master, dawn is breaking. The tribunal awaits. What say you?"

Looking at the broken woman before him:

"She is clearly a witch. She has had all night to repent and nothing. She has given us no choice"

The men lifted her high. Removing the brack, they force a ragged gag back into her mouth. Her eyes are covered by a cloth as they carry her naked body up the steps and out to the court yard. Her arms are tied behind the post. A second rope securing her neck to the post. The platform she stands upon just big enough for her feet.

The blindfold is removed just as the sun peeks over the horizon…just as the first torch touches the kindling….

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Words from the Author:

All of the tortures describe in this piece are based in fact. Torture was an accepted form of control over the masses. The Medieval inquisitions which began in the 1100's lasted into the mid 1800's. The most infamous of the inquisitions is the Spanish Inquisition but it was just one of many. The Catholic Church embraced the practice for centuries. The Church held the belief that the spilling of blood went against Church doctrine. With a finding of just cause by the local inquisitor, the accused was turned over to secular authorities with the Church begging for mercy for the accused even as they demanded the accused be executed if they were found guilty by the secular court. Most of those accused were accused in secret. Simply being accused in most cases was a guaranteed of a guilty verdict.. The Catholic Church automatically seized all belonging of those accused. For some it was a fast trial and death, for others decades passed between the accusation and trial. As a side note: Witch craft was one of the most serious accusations and resulted in some of the most horrific tortures.