Warning - this story is for adults only, and not for the weak of stomach. Comments, etc to mothbrad@yahoo.com.au.

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As he sipped an ale quietly in the corner of the public bar, the elderly man looked around at the clientele, taking in the parade of pretty young women who were there, some dresssed up as noblewomen, some as the lower classes, mixing and laughing and drinking. He smiled at a number of them, and they gave various responses. Many ignored him, the occasional one took pity on him and smiled back, warming his heart. Had they known who he truly was, their reactions might have been less calm.

His mind wandered back to the years of his employment - years when he was known by one name by the people of the kingdom, and by another name at his workplace. For twenty eight years, he was no ordinary functionary, as the King's right hand man and chief torturer. Of course, it was only a select few people, aside from his unfortunate victims, who knew that he had the second role at all, and this was how he was able to gain the most enjoyment out of his role. There were many times that he would comfort a woman in the street over the loss of her daughter, knowing full well that the daughter in question was not resting in peace in the local cemetery, but was tucked safely away, tied to some instrument of torture or another. He was known as a kind hearted man in public - sometimes even as a weak man. Often young women would come to his notice, and would find themselves screaming for his benefit in the endless dungeons that filled the basement of the various castles owned by the King. His name in those rooms was Morgan.

One of the favourite pastimes that the nobility took part in during the reign of King Ernest was to exploit the poor for entertainment. An example of this was to find, for example, a pair of sisters and pay them large amounts of money to degrade themselves, or to give each other oral sex. The rich found this extremely satisfying, and it seemed a fine way for them to spend their money, while the poor, although humiliated for a short period of time, made more money in a day than they would have in a year otherwise.

During a day of drinking at the palace, somebody came up with the idea of how far they could take it. Somebody asked Morgan if he would, for example, hurt a woman for the enjoyment of the court, knowing that she would be paid for it. He considered this for a moment, and said that he could not see anything wrong with doing that. Occasionally a poor woman would be taken off the street, if she  struck the torturers as particularly pretty or sexy, where she was practiced on in the torture chambers, so this seemed an even more humane way of doing it.

One of the officers of the court was sent to the poor tavern, where he was instructed to find an innocent looking woman, to whom he was to offer 1000 crowns for her services for a weekend. To put this in perspective, many workers only made 500 crowns a year. He found a suitable victim, whose name was Rose, who agreed, and she came to the castle. She curtsied for the King, who brusquely ordered her to strip, which she did slowly and with great embarrassment. She was led down to the dungeon. Everyone could tell that she was nervous, and she was exciting them.

Once in the dungeon, Morgan introduced himself to her as the head executioner. He was wearing a hood so that he would not be recognised. The King informed her that as she had accepted coming here, she could not leave until the weekend was over, but she was guaranteed the money. She was asked if she knew what torture was, and she replied that she did not know.

Morgan explained it to her simply. "It is my job to hurt people, and to think of new, ever more innovative, and ever more effective ways of hurting them." He showed her some of the instruments that he normally used - the thumbscrews, the tit press, various whips, and the rack - and she understood.

"Please sir, I'm scared. I don't want to do this anymore. I don't like being hurt."

The King laughed. "Of course you don't. But that's what makes this worthwhile. If you enjoyed this, then our enjoyment would be greatly reduced." Morgan took Rose over to a high chair and pushed her into it, tying her hands to the armrests and letting her feet swing free.

The King turned to him. "I've always wondered, good sir, how you would go about finding out whether one of my subjects was loyal towards me."

The steely eyed sadist looked at Rose. "For somebody like this, I can see that she is honest and loves you as her ruler, so I would just have to ask her."

The King looked at him with a concerned look. "But surely, there might be subjects who in their hearts do not have a true respect for me!"

He smiled. "There is no need to fear. You see, I am very well trained at determining if somebody is telling the truth. Rose", turning back to the poor girl, "are you a true and faithful servant of your King, who is standing in front of you?"

Rose looked nervous, and she was beginning to sweat. "Yes, of course!"

Morgan spoke again to the King. "So you see, she claims to be loyal to you. But of course that's maybe only because she doesn't understand what loyalty involves."

The King looked at him. "That's true. Maybe she has broken some laws and not been properly punished."

Morgan turned around in shock. "Is this true, Rose? Have you really broken some of the King's laws?"

Rose was really sweating now - the others in the torture chamber were smiling, knowing that now the show was about to begin. "Remember, be honest, because if you lie now, your punishment will be much worse."

Rose started to cry softly. This was the worst moment of her life. She had tried so hard to be a good person all of the time, and she wracked her mind trying to think of anything she might have done.

And then it came to her. Four years earlier, she had stolen some potatoes from her neighbour. She blushed with the memory - her family had been hungry, but she still regretted it. She had confessed to her neighbour and paid it back, but it was still a rock on her conscience.

"My Lord, I did once steal some potatoes from someone who lives near me. But I paid them back later, and they forgave me."

The King stood up in indignation. "And you think that your neighbour is able to forgive you?! This is a crime against ME, not your neighbour!"

Morgan cleared his throat. "Your Majesty, I may have been mistaken this time. It is clear that this slut has no loyalty towards you, and initially lied straight to your face about this. I have also found in every case that has come before me that if a person is willing to admit to something without duress, then they have something far worse that they are hiding which will only be revealed with some encouragement."

"And what sort of encouragement did you have in mind?"

"Rose here currently has a dilemma in her head. She is weighing up the consequences of admitting to her crimes, as against what will happen to her if she stays quiet. Right now, it is much worse for her if she admits, but in order to seek the truth, I need to make it much worse for her if she stays silent. As you know, of course, most of the sentences for small crimes are a year of hard labour - this is considered a very harsh sentence by the population. Do you think I can make Rose admit to something she does not want to - in other words that I can make her feel that to avoid what is happening to her now, she would accept a year of hard labour?"

The King laughed. "I doubt it very much!"

"Let me show you," he said. "In fact, I will make a wager with you that I can achieve fine results in just one afternoon."

Morgan ordered her to be placed on the rack, with her hands tied to the top beam, and her feet attached to the roller at its base.

"Please sir, I don't know why you need to hurt me."

He grinned. "Of course this doesn't have to be unpleasant. If you just come clean as to your most secret thoughts about your King."

"I have nothing more to confess! My conscience is clean!"

"Indeed, this is what we will find out. This is a very special instrument which will soon reveal the truth. Have you ever had one of your muscles cramp, my dear?"

Rose blinked quickly. "Yes, sir".

"So you'll know that it's very unpleasant, but this is many times worse. Indeed, what is about to happen to every one of the muscles in your body is going to make every other pain you've experienced in your life seem insignificant."

"No, please ..."

Morgan commenced the turning of the wheel, slowly forcing her to wriggle down the rack until her arms were held straight, and her legs also could barely move. "Normally, a woman on this rack would be left here for some time, in the position that you are in, so that they can contemplate the awful pain that is about to come, but because we are on a time limit, I will commence your stretching right away. You may think, my dear Rose, that you know what is about to happen, but this device holds many surprises indeed."

She stifled another pleading word when shocked by the turning of the wheel a full half turn. She felt some pain in her back, and her hands were being tormented by the ropes holding them. Another turn, and this time her shoulders and knees felt the strain. They let her lie there, moaning for a few moments as the torturer walked around the perimeter of the dungeon.

As much as he enjoyed the physical torture, Morgan knew how important it was to increase the mental anguish of the subject, so he began to explain to the King what was about to happen. "Rose here thinks that the torture has begun, but really, she has only felt hints of it. In another couple of turns, several things will start to happen to her body. Her major joints - at the wrists, elbows, shoulders, knees and ankles - will send urgent messages to her brain that she must find a way to release the tension on them. Every part of her body will be trying to return to its normal state, however the ropes will hold her firm, and no matter how hard she tries, she will not be able to find release."

The wheel turned one more notch, and the poor woman gasped in pain, which turned into a scream with yet another notch. "By now," he continued, "her entire consciousness is given over to the awful feeling of pain and terror. As you may have noticed, she is not screaming as much as you may be expecting."

The King nodded. "Yes, I was wondering why that was. After all, I have heard women screaming for mercy at seemingly less effective methods."

Morgan replied "that is simple - as well as the pains in her joints and in her bones, she is beginning to find it difficult to breathe. She cannot draw in enough breath to satisfy her need, and now she is beginning to panic from that as well."

They both looked at her - Monarch and his right hand man - and indeed there was a strange look on her face, as though she wanted to scream but could not form the sound. Her eyes were screwed up in agony, and they could see her muscles straining under her skin, as if under a thin blanket. "We still have a long way before serious damage is done to her, and she is already in hellish torment. I think now is the time to ask her about her crimes."

The King nodded, and walked over to stare her in the face. She was quietly begging him "please please please please sir, show me mercy!" "I am being as merciful as a king should to one of his subjects when they are not truthful. Now, Rose, tell us about the other crimes you have committed that you have not yet paid for."

Tears started to form in her eyes.

"There is nothing I can say. I have been loyal."

"Lies!" The king seemed to fly into a rage, and ordered that the treatment continue with the turning of the wheel. Morgan held up his hand in a calming gesture. "Your Majesty, there are many more things that this device is capable of doing aside from stretching more and more. There are things we can do to break through her lies much quicker and without necessarily damaging her. Let me show you."

He took from a table nearby a long bird's feather and showed it first to the King and then to Rose. "I hope you're not terribly ticklish, dear!" At first he ran it gently over her stomach, as she tried against hope to squirm away. Then he moved to the hollows under her arms, running the feather over her sensitive skin as she gasped in an awful parody of laughter and despair. Tears streamed from her eyes as he ran the feather all the way down her body and began to use it on her toes.  A little blood was now showing near her ankles, from the ropes holding them.

"See how much torment she suffers just from a simple feather. While she's like this I can do anything from sprinkling water onto her face ..." he paused as he dipped his hands in a bucket and teasingly flicked his fingers at her to wet her, "...  or open up her stomach and pull out her insides. She has no chance of avoiding either, if that's what I decide to do."

The King chuckled. "Are you ready to confess to your evil ways, yet?"

Rose could barely speak from the pain, but was seemingly mindlessly shaking and nodding her head. "Just tell us the type of crime, and you'll have a break." He could tell that her mind was ticking over, trying to think of the least form of crime that she could, but, being truly innocent, nothing was coming to her. She could feel her muscles spasm all over her body, and it was a strange, terrifying feeling, as though she had no control over it. She felt something strangely familiar near her groin, but could not seem to acknowledge it.

"Look at that, your Majesty", Morgan exclaimed. "Our guest has wet herself, like a baby, or a barnyard animal."

Rose's face burned red with shame. There was something about this event that crushed her - she was such a private person, and had never had someone see her go to the toilet, and now, her King himself had watched as she had involuntarily peed.

"We certainly did find a woman of sufficiently low class, didn't we", the King replied. "She really is someone who does not deserve to be in any part of the castle, other than this very room."

Humiliated and in terrible pain, Rose seemed to go blank for a moment, until Morgan moved back to the wheel. As she screamed for mercy, he smiled at her as he loosened the rack by a notch. "Just tell us what crime you committed, and I will give you back control of your body."

She shook her head before yelling out "I stole! I stole from someone."

He looked at her and slowly shook his head. "Are you making fun of us? We KNOW you stole something. What I need to know is whether you have ever committed any other crime that you might need to be punished for. Have you ever committed adultery? Slept with a married man?"

Her body could no longer hold on. "YES! I made love to a man I know! Please please, mercy, untie me!"

Morgan nodded to the King, and slowly began to loosen the rack. As her ability to breathe more normally returned, Rose took several deep breaths, exhaling with an inhuman moan. "Thank you, thank you sir, for untying me. Thank you!"

When she had enough slack to bend her arms and legs several inches, he stopped, and watched her for a second before a new wave of pain overwhelmed her, as her muscles tried to readjust, all seemingly pulling in opposite directions. She screamed for several minutes until her throat was almost raw, and her body calmed down somewhat.

The realisation hit her hard that she was still tied to the torture rack - she began to beg to be taken off.

"But Rose, dear, you have so much more to tell us. You just confessed to being an adulterer." Morgan turned to the King. "Your Majesty, what is the punishment for a woman who is found guilty of lying with a married man?"

The King thought for a moment. "Like all crimes of immorality, it depends on the circumstances of the offence, but generally it is a two to three year stint in one of our kingdom's brothels, where the slutlike can put their deviance to good use."

"Oh, no sire, I misunderstood. I have never been with anyone. You can check. I am a virgin. You can see, I am pure."

The King sighed and went to sit in his comfortable seat. "It seems that you will have to redouble your efforts to get to the bottom of just what this slut has been up to."

Morgan nodded and replied, "Yes, Your Majesty."

This time, both because her body had already been tortured, and because she knew exactly what was coming, she began screaming as soon as he started the roller tightening the ropes that were attached to her. When both her arms and legs were straight again, but before the rack was doing any actual damage, he stopped.

Addressing the poor shape of humanity on the rack, Morgan continued his taunting. "Now, Rose, I imagine that you are very thirsty now. Is that right?"

"Yes, sir. I am."

He went to the corner of the room, and picked up an old wooden bucket and a metal cup. "This water is not the cleanest in the country, and there may be a few bugs in it here and there, but when you are in this chamber, it is the only sustenance you will be allowed. Do you understand?"

Again, she answered "Yes, sir."

He filled up the cup with water and brought it over to her lips, lifting her head up slightly so she could more easily drink. It took a short while for her to finish it, as she was so out of breath, and kept turning her head away, but finally it was done.

"Would you like some more?"

She looked at me, and thought for a moment. "If you don't have any more now, you will not be allowed any more for the rest of the day."

At the contemplation of that, she answered "Yes", and he gave her another cup full of water.

"Thank you, sir. You are most kind. But please, My arms are in terrible pain, and I am not able to breathe properly. Please let me off this terrible thing."

"You will be let off just as soon as you answer all of our questions. Now, you say that you are a virgin, is that right?"

"Yes, sir", she answered, her voice quivering.

"But you admitted earlier that you have committed adultery. How can that be?"

Rose lay in despair. Of course, she had only answered to have the torment end, and she did not know how she could go back on her answer.

"Please, sir, I was in too much pain, I did not know what I was saying."

"Have you ever kissed a man, Rose?"

She turned red. "Yes, sir. Just one."

"Was he married at the time?"

"NO!", she cried. "He was a visitor to our village, but he was not married."

"How can you be sure?"

"I know he wasn't. He promised me."

"And you only kissed him, is that right?"

Rose's face flushed again. "Yes, sir. Anything more than that is terribly immoral."

Morgan stroked her face gently, passing my fingers over her lips, down past her chin, along her neck, down, down, until he reached her left breast.

"Did you let him touch you on your breasts?"

Rose could not answer, but only shook her head. His fingers circled her breasts, and ran up towards her nipple, which was now quite erect from the cold, and from her fear, and just as much from the strange feelings that she had never experienced before. With his other hand, he did the same to her right breast, until his fingers were gently rubbing and pulling on her nipples.

"Did you have him suck on these?"

He bent down and took one of her nipples in his  mouth, and sucked, licking it repeatedly.

"No, sir, please, this is not right ... please - I would never do this with a man I was not married to."

It must have been painful for her on that rack, stretched out as she was, to suddenly have these sexual feelings awakened in her. "You are responding far too easily for someone who has not done this often. I imagine you let every man in your village suck on your nipples."

Tears came from her eyes as she shook her head in shame. He moved his hands down from her breasts, down her stomach, towards her pussy. At this, realising what was about to happen, she again began to plead to be left alone. "Do you pretend to beg the other men who touch you like this?"

Morgan ordered one of his assistants to slightly loosen the rack - he wanted Rose to be able to squirm as he reached her pussy lips. He noisily licked his finger and began to rub it over the lips. "How many men have touched these? A dozen? A hundred?"

Rose looked up in despair. "No, sir. No man has ever touched there. This is wrong. Please, don't put your hand there."

He laughed. "So you want me to believe that I'm the first. That's very sweet of you." He kissed her violently on her mouth as she tried to squirm away.

Seeing that the King was getting highly excited by this, and thinking that it might be a fine chance of further currying his favour to let him take a more active role in proceedings, Morgan untied Rose from the rack, which produced some more full throated screams from her as the circulation returned to her hands and feet. Before she had a chance to even get her bearings back, she was lifted up by one of the burly assistants and carried over to the rape table. There, here hands were tied above her head, with her ass just over the edge of the table.

"Your Majesty, would you care to test this slut's claims that she is a virgin?"

The King stood up, and removed his pants, showing off his erect penis, which was already bobbing up and down in anticipation. When he reached the rape table, he forced his thumb in between her pussy lips, checking to see the state of her arousal.

"She is completely dry," he commented. "There is no problem there," Morgan assured him. "The extra friction may even make it a little bit more enjoyable for you."

Placing the head of his cock against her opening, he nodded at Morgan, as the cruel man took hold of her nipples and gave them a great squeeze. At that moment, the King forced himself into her, producing a greater scream than ever.

"Noo! Please, don't do this to me!"

The King looked down at his cock. Most of it was still outside of her - he was going to need to thrust harder. Which he did, pushing with all his might, as he noticed a wetness. When he looked down, he could see some blood dripping onto the floor.

"It looks like she was telling the truth after all. She may be a slut, but she's still a virgin!"

They both laughed, and as the King pulled out again he stared into Rose's eyes. She was almost in shock, but could still understand what he was saying.

"So how does it feel to be one of the King's whores?"

Before she could answer, she needed to scream yet again, as the King thrust in again. Because he had been secretly masturbating himself throughout the awful ordeal, it only took a few thrusts for him to grunt as he came inside her, pushing himself in a couple of extra times just for the hell of it.

Rose was weeping in pain, in terror, in humiliation. Morgan bent down and kissed her on the lips again, but this time she was more successful in avoiding him. Angrily, he ordered one of his assistants to hold down her hands as he went around to her bloody, bruised pussy. Taking a bottle from a nearby table, and a small paintbrush, he dipped the brush in and began to spread the liquid over her chafed genitals.

As Rose screamed with a new found energy from the agony, Morgan explained to the King that the iodine he was using would ensure that she did not get infected. "You have to be cruel to be kind, sometimes, Your Majesty." The King shrugged off the joke and, putting his pants back on, walked back around so that he could look her in the face. "You aren't too bad for a village whore." With that, he spat straight into her face, and turned around and walked towards the door.

"Morgan, you will have her placed in a cell where she can await the beginning of her sentence for disloyalty to the Crown tomorrow."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Morgan replied, and the King exited.

Morgan roughly grabbed her hands and led her over to a far corner of the chamber, where a metal sheet lay. The chief torturer bent down and unlocked a lock attached to the sheet, and lifted it up, with great effort, revealing the horror of the cell that lay beneath it. A small, box like cell with no fittings at all, and with a jagged stone floor and walls, Rose looked at it in horror. Dragging her in there, he attached her left wrist to a shackle that linked her to one of the walls, before climbing back out and leaving her there. She cried out to be released as he closed the roof of the cell. He left her with the ominous words "Try to get a good night's sleep. You're going to have a very difficult day tomorrow."

CHAPTER TWO

The cell that Rose found herself in may well have been the most horrible of all the tortures in that chamber. It was not completely dark in there, but shackled, without very much ability to move, the little bit of light that it let in from the chamber above it gave it a terrible, claustrophobic feeling to it. Rose could feel something furry run over her legs, and she cried out, but soon realised that nobody was coming. Even worse, perhaps, was her location - she was only a short distance away from the various chairs, racks and tables that were constantly populated by poor villagers, and throughout her time in the cell, she was bombarded with the sounds of the screams of the women victims, and the laughter and taunting sounds of their tormentors. Knowing that she was going to be further punished there tomorrow made it even worse.

She dwelt on the pain she had experienced. The rack - she simply could not believe that a human would design such a thing. Something so cruel. The feeling of terror came back to her, as she thought of that moment when she lost control of what she would say, when her body forced her to lie, and when she admitted that she had been with a man.

She thought about why she had accepted the money. She had not realised, of course, what terrible things she would be put through, but she had needed that money to put her life into order. She had been honest with the torturer, telling him that she had only kissed one man. A travelling actor who had come by her village, briefly danced with her, and then tried to have his way with her. Oh, he had been calm when she turned him down, assured by her that one day they would marry and would be able to make love as often as possible, without being immoral. But then he had left, telling her that the only way for them to be together would be in a distant land. She wanted, with all her heart, to give herself to him in wedlock.

And then the memory of her rape flooded back into her mind. All of that time when she could have enjoyed being intimate with a man, when she held herself pure awaiting marriage - all of those were for nothing. She had been violated, and now was used up. Most men would never want anything to have to do with her, even that man she had so often dreamed about. In her dreams, her first time was always so soft and tender, but this was wicked and cruel. And it was the King! She had no way of processing this thought - whether it made the degradation easier or harder for her to bear. And when he had called her his whore and spat in her face ... she could not understand it. Why would the King - a man who could have any beautiful woman in the whole kingdom - treat someone like that?

Her musings were broken by a shriek from the chamber, and the sound of a young woman yelling "take them out!" She sobbed to herself, afraid to wonder what 'they' were, and where the poor girl wanted them to be taken out from. Her hunger and thirst also tormented her - she was glad for those drinks that the torturer had given her, but she would have loved to have had more. But she was afraid that if she called out for them, she would attract the attention of whoever was up there. Miserably, she leaned against the wall of her cell, closed her eyes and tried to sleep through all of the discomforts. Out of exhaustion, she finally did fall asleep, to a land of nightmares.

* * *

By way of contrast, the King and his cruel right hand man were eating dinner in the luxurious surroundings of the Castle's dining room.

"I certainly think we got our money's worth today", the King commented, patting his satisfied stomach loudly. "That young lady sure is a pretty one."

Morgan sipped some more of the fine wine that was in his glass. "That is the truth. I enjoyed tormenting her today. But I wonder if we can take a different approach tomorrow. She is going to be very vulnerable - maybe there are other things we can do to have fun with her."

* * *

Rose slipped in and out of her sleep, but both states were filled with nightmares. The sounds of torture just above her in her underground cell did not cease the entire night, and worst of all were when the victim of the torturers' attentions screamed out words that gave an insight into what she might be going through - "take it out!" "No, please, not there!" "Take me off!". The visions in her mind were vivid, assisted by what she had seen and experienced in the chamber.

At some time in the morning, although she could have no way of knowing what actual time, she heard footsteps come closer to her cell, and then the sound of the lock being opened, and finally her cell was flooded with light. A man she had not seen before roughly picked her up, after unshackling her, and dragged her along, out of the room to another room which looked like a dining room of sorts.

The table in the middle was filled with food, which she eyed hungrily. She was starving, but even worse was her thirst, which was driving  her crazy. In a moment, Morgan walked into the room, which made Rose's heart sink. He told her to sit down at the table.

"Good morning, Rose. How did you sleep last night?"

Rose looked up groggily. "Terribly, sir. That cell was awful."

Morgan stared at her. "That is by far one of the most comfortable cells that we have here. In any case, you need to eat."

He took a plate, and placed some meat, some potatoes and some bread on it, and put it in front of her. "There, eat."

Rose looked up at him pleadingly. "Please, sir. May I have some water?"

Morgan stood up and went to an ice box, pulling out a bottle. "There you are. Clean, fresh water for you."

Rose gulped down half of the bottle, and then began to demolish the meal, ravenously eating. When she finished, Morgan offered her more, which she ate after drinking the rest of the bottle.

"You were very brave, yesterday," Morgan said kindly. Rose looked at him a little confused. "How do you mean, sir?"

"It's quite horrible being on the rack, isn't it?"

"Oh, yes sir," Rose gasped.

"And you don't want to go back on it again, do you?"

"No sir! Oh please, I couldn't take it anymore!"

Morgan smiled. "The King has told me that he is quite fond of you, despite the fact that you have committed crimes against him. He very much enjoyed using you as his whore."

Rose again did not know what to feel. It was a strange mixture of pride and horror. "I am glad that I pleased His Majesty."

"He also has told me that he does not want me to hurt you anymore. Today is going to be quite different to yesterday. We are going to go out to his private farm and have a picnic."

A woman came into the room and took Rose out, taking her to a bathroom where she had a short bath, cleaned herself off, and was given some new clothes to wear. She was then taken to a bedroom where a normal bed, covered in old but clean rags was, where she was told to get a few hours sleep before the picnic. Rose was confused by these developments, but followed the orders, and was happy to at last get some rest, on a full stomach.

About three hours later she was awoken by the same woman, and ushered into a horse drawn carriage. The two women were alone in the back of the carriage as it made its way through the countryside. Rose broke the long silence by asking "Do they often have picnics out here?", but her companion stayed silent, staring straight ahead, only occasionally looking at Rose with a blank expression. Rose took the hint and stayed quiet for the rest of the journey.

Finally, they arrived at a clearing, and Rose could see that there were several men there, and a couple of women. Morgan pulled her out of the carriage, and she was happy to feel the soft grass underneath her sore feet. Everybody stared at her for a moment, and then went back to talking amongst themselves. Morgan led her around to a spot near a picnic table, which was empty save for a sheet over it.

Morgan clapped his hands to get everybody's attention. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like you to welcome young Rose here who is the guest of honour at our picnic today."

Everybody clapped politely as Rose nodded, blushing slightly and almost smiling. Morgan smiled at her and nodded. "Yesterday was a very special day for Rose, as she at last lost her virginity - not just to any random person, but to our King himself!"

Everybody gasped in delight and clapped harder than before. Rose looked at Morgan in horror as he pulled a rag from out of his pocket. Holding it up, he pointed to a red streak through it. "As you can all see, although she is of lowly birth, Rose stayed moral throughout her life, until the moment when the King decided to take what was rightly his, and so she was a virgin until yesterday, as proven by the blood on this very rag."

Rose looked down at the ground as the rag was passed around. Some of the men and women looked closely at it in wonder, some sniffed it, and others ran their fingers over it.

Morgan continued, "As Rose did not admit to any actual crimes, despite telling one lie about being an adulterer - but to be fair to her, she was in quite a bit of pain at the time ..." He paused as the men laughed, and Rose shuddered remembering the terror and pain that brought her to the point of saying anything to stop it.

"Rose is from very humble beginnings, as I said. But I am worried that because her womanly charms attracted the attention of the greatest man in our Kingdom, that she will forget that humility. I would ask that you all help me to remind her of her place."

Two of the men stepped forward and took down their pants. The two women immediately came to their sides, and began to stroke their cocks. "The King has requested that she not be fucked by another man, but that she receive a token of your love in other ways."

Morgan ordered Rose to kneel in front of the men, so that one was on her right, and one on her left. He whispered to her quietly words that send a shiver through her soul - "If you don't stay down there quietly, with your hands behind your back, you're going straight back onto the rack. And I won't be as kind as I was yesterday." Rose immediately did as she was told, and looked around at the ring of smiling villains, all intent on her humiliation.

The two women were experts at their craft of bringing men to orgasm quickly, and within a couple of minutes the first man was ready. Feeling the tell tale signs of readiness, the blonde whore increased her speed, and pointed the man's cock directly at Rose's face. In a matter of seconds, he began to orgasm, almost buckling at the knees from the pleasure, as his cum was directed straight into Rose's eyes. Almost immediately, the other man also reached a climax, with the redheaded whore directing his sperm onto Rose's hair.

Rose moved her hands to try to get the sticky, disgusting mess out of her eyes, but Morgan yelled at her to put her hands back to where they were. Cum mixed with tears to make her face quite a sight, as two more men stepped up to take their place in the queue.

The whores repeated their performances three times more each, until a total of eight men had coated Rose's face, neck, hair and dress with their cum. Rose continued to cry until the last man aimed himself at her nose, while Morgan held her head up by her hair.

When all of the men were done, Morgan stood in front of her, rubbing her face, and wiping the cum off her, putting it onto her dress. "Well Rose, have you been reminded of your place?"

Rose nodded her head slowly. "Yes, sir."

"Do you still consider yourself something special because the King had sex with you?"

"No, sir".

"Good. You should always remember that the best work you can do is to be a whore for men like these."

One of the men brought over a strange looking item that Rose could not at first recognise. It was a silver coloured dog collar, which he put around Rose's neck, locking it in place. The first thing that Rose noticed about it was that it was heavy - very heavy. In fact, it was several pounds in weight, and in her weakened state, Rose found it very hard to keep her head up with it on.

"Come on bitch, we're going to go for a little nature walk."

Pulling on a lead that was attached to the collar, the torturer ordered her down on her hands and knees and guided her towards a barn in the distance. Rose ached from the speed she was being forced to crawl, and the occasional pebble that she would step on, but she found the humiliation of being made to act like a dog unbearable. Her parents had hated dogs, and used the vilest terms for them, and now she was collared, on hands and knees, being laughed at by these evil people. The men were rubbing her all over as she crawled, patting her head lewdly, and making comments about her.

Finally, they reached the shed, and someone opened the door. The barn was mostly empty, other than some straw in the middle. As she crawled closer to the straw, she smelt something terrible, and she saw that covered slightly by the straw was a large pile of horse dung.

The men all gathered around as Morgan took off the dog collar, and took a rope and tied Rose's hands behind her back. From a sack, somebody took out a bowl which he showed first to Morgan and then to Rose. It was filled with cut up pieces of banana, from what would have been five or six of the fruit.

Morgan spoke. "My friends, Rose has a terrible fear of that torture implement known as the rack. She spent a few easy hours on it yesterday, but she knows that she will end up on it again if she disobeys. To see just how much she wants to avoid feeling what it is like to have her shoulders, hips and knees torn within her body, she is going to show us what an animal she is by eating this banana," he paused as he showed it to the others, before turning over the bowl and dumping it into the pile of dung, "without the help of her hands. And that means every piece - if any are left she is straight back onto the rack."

Rose looked around the barn, her vision a blur. This was not a choice that she could make. Looking at the disgusting vision in front of her, her stomach began to heave, and she tried to hold back the bile, but even her terrible fear of the pain to come could not make her eat. She looked up tearily. "Please sir, please, I cannot possibly ..."

"EAT IT!" Morgan yelled, his face twisted with hatred. She moved forward, and bent down, grabbing one of the pieces between her teeth. The smell and taste of the dung assaulted her, but she worked hard to overcome it, and swallowed it quickly. The taste was so terrible that she involuntarily crawled away from the pile, crying. Suddenly everybody else in the barn began to laugh. Rose looked up at Morgan who had a big smile on his face.

"Oh Rose, we were never going to put you back on the rack. That was just a little joke, to see if we could make you eat shit!"

The laughter went on, as Rose sunk down to a foetal position and wept. The men and the whores left the barn, leaving Rose lying there, at which time they enjoyed their picnic. During that time, each of the men who needed to urinate entered the barn and used her as a human latrine.

Several hours later, two men came in to the barn and untied her, pulling her into a carriage, and they took her back to her home. There, she was handed her money in a sack, and dumped outside her door, still with the cum all over her, the smell of horse dung and urine covering her, and her dress in tatters. Her final humiliation for the day would be when those who knew her would find her looking like a well paid, messed up whore.