By then, the girl on the cross was tossing her head and clenching her fists, in an itch maddened frenzy. The itching powder was like a swarm of mosquitoes dining on her flesh. Sweat rained from Dina, whose bottom contained the hundred watt equivalent of the fires of hell.
The Ringmistress slid a long finger into the slash of the girl on the pole and hooked it in the gold ring through her clitoris. Hot oil continued to drip onto her nipples. The Ringmistress tugged and twisted her clitoris, whilst spitting on her pussy. Then, she knotted the end of her bullwhip around the clit ring and jammed the handle up between the buttocks of the slave on the cross.
The Ringmistress used her right thumb in the anus of the shrieking slave, to loosen her up for what was to follow. Clenching her fist, she worked it up inside the girl’s bottom, following it with several inches of her forearm. Inserting her left hand was much more difficult, as the slave was already stretched to the limit. But by pressing it flat against her arm and pushing with all her might, she managed to force first her hand and then her wrist, unto her overstretched rectum. The plaintive cries of the girl were the sweetest music to the ears of her torturers and the audience of over sixty men. While the oil scorched her nipples, both arms of the Ringmistress thrust into her bottom.
Several minutes later, she wrenched both hands out. She was deeply tanned in pungent anal treacle, halfway to her elbows. She slapped the girl’s buttocks, leaving two brown palm prints, smeared her face with the sticky mess, then stuffed the fingers of her right hand into her mouth. The slave gagged as she sucked them. She licked both hands and arms of the Dominatrix clean, forlornly hoping that this might earn her some small mercy.
An Assistant Mistress handed a wooden box to her superior. It contained quarter inch long pins, with gold stars on top. The Ringmistress awarded twenty to either cheek of the slave’s backside, pushing them fully into her flesh. A further dozen were stuck into each breast. An Assistant Mistress then stretched her anus open, by hooking the long finger of either hand inside. Her companion pushed the top of the pepper shaker into her bottom and dispensed a liberal dose of itching powder. She thrashed on the pole, as it took instant effect.
“I think we ought to put her out of her misery,” said the Ringmistress, wrapping a leather belt around her throat.
“No!” the slave croaked. “Don’t kill me, I beg you.”
“Beg all you like,” she retorted. “I shall do as I please.”
As she tightened the belt around her throat, her assistants caned the belly and legs of the slave. Her face turned crimson, then purple, as her shrieks of pain and desperation subsided to a harsh gurgle. The Ringmistress was skilled in the art of strangulation. Just when the girl was on the brink of unconsciousness, she loosened the belt and signalled her assistants to stop caning her. After she had checked on the other two girls and revived their agonies with a few licks of her whip, she turned to her enthralled audience.
“And now, gentlemen, the climax of our torture show. Meet the sweetest little slave girl of them all.”
Zoe stepped into the ring, the whip of an Assistant Mistress snapping at her heels. She was blindfolded with a black silk scarf and dressed in an ankle length gown of sheer white silk, through which her nakedness was clearly evident. Her hair was tied up with pink bows, lending her an appearance of childish innocence. There was a steel collar around her throat, to which a long bar was attached. Her wrists were manacled to the end of the bar, which stuck out in front of her. She was already trembling in terror, having heard the screams of her three companions and fully aware that she was about to be subjected to similar sadism.
Watching from the front row, Troy thought she looked like an angel. How much better the pair would look in that ring, he reflected. Jenna’s successful escape continued to enrage him. Even though he was certain she was dead, he still fantasised about getting her back and subjecting her to the most hideous tortures the human mind could conjure. Seeing Zoe again, he regretted having ever sold her. He would enjoy torturing her to death, on her sister’s behalf.
“Such a sweet young thing,” the Ringmistress purred, caressing the silk covered mounds of Zoe’s breasts. “As usual, I have something very special lined up for you. It’s a shame you will not enjoy it as much as I intend to.”
She turned to her audience, while her assistants unveiled a large roulette wheel. Inside each brightly coloured spoke of the wheel was a different symbol.
“Gentlemen, a game of chance,” she announced. “Each symbol on this wheel behind me denotes a different punishment for our lovely slave. There are thirty six in all, and each is guaranteed to cause maximum pain. For this game, I will need four lucky volunteers. I know you would all like to take part, especially when you hear that the prize for the winner is the lovely slave herself, for a full two hours of your pleasure. I shall invite each of you, in turn, to step up and pluck a star from our slave on the pole. The four men who pick the stars with black pins shall be the selected volunteers.”
One by one, the men stepped forward, to pluck a gold star from the flesh of the semi-conscious slave. Troy felt lucky, when he pulled out the first of the stars with a black pin. He might yet get the chance to wreak further vengeance upon Zoe, for the humiliation her twin had caused him. When the last star had been plucked from the girl, he and his three fellow contestants waited in the ring, while the other men returned to their vantage points. The prize they lusted for was ordered to step onto a podium beside the wheel. The Ringmistress explained the rules of the game, in a loud voice.
“As you can see, gentlemen, the spokes on the roulette wheel are numbered one to thirty six. You will each be given three chances to spin the wheel and select the punishments for our slave. Whichever one of you has accumulated the highest number of points at the end of the game shall be declared the winner. Before we begin, let us make sure our star prize remains on her pedestal.”
Kneeling by the podium, an Assistant Mistress fastened two steel manacles around Zoe’s ankles. These were joined by a small piece of timber, attached to two short chains. The assistant nailed the timber to the podium, then stepped back. The Ringmistress then invited the first contestant to give the wheel a good spin. When it stopped spinning, the ball came to rest in a yellow spoke, decorated with an angelic figure wielding a bow and arrow.
“Cupid’s Arrow,” the Ringmistress announced. “Worth twenty points to you, Sir, and to our slave ...”
An assistant took a small bow from an instrument rack nearby and selected an arrow from the quiver. The glinting needle point was a quarter inch long. She crouched on one knee, drew back the bow, aimed carefully and fired. The missile whizzed through the air and embedded itself in Zoe’s left buttock. She shrieked in agony and would have leaped from the podium, had she not been nailed to it.
The next contestant stepped up for his first spin of the wheel. This yielded him nine points and the symbol of a whip. Taking the cat o’ nine tails from her belt, the Ringmistress stepped up to Zoe, ripped the front of her gown and lashed both breasts nine times.
The next contestant’s spin finished on the symbol of a wolf’s head.
“Maximum points for one of my favourite tortures,” the Ringmistress delightedly announced. “The Big Bad Wolf. Hear her scream, when he gets his teeth into her.”
An assistant handed her an iron contraption that resembled a small bear trap. The jaws of the device were held open by a single bolt.
“Left or right?” the Ringmistress wondered, studying Zoe’s breasts. “Eeny, meeny, miney, moe ...”
While she recited the childish ditty, Zoe sweated and trembled, unable to imagine what new torment was about to be inflicted upon her. The Ringmistress placed the jaws of the trap over her right breast, then pulled the bolt. Zoe howled as the jaws snapped shut, sharp iron teeth biting deep into her flesh.
With a satisfied smile, the Ringmistress turned to Troy. �
�Your turn to make her suffer.”
He was not pleased to score only seven on his first spin, but the symbol on which the ball came to rest looked interesting. It showed the face of a girl in a mask, mouth opened in a scream.
“The Iron Witch,” the Ringmistress explained. “Our slave certainly is unfortunate tonight.”
An iron mask, consisting of four black steel bars was placed on Zoe. After it had creaked shut, an Assistant Mistress tightened the steel bands around her temple and throat. She was careful the latter was tight enough for discomfort, but not to choke her. A flaccid black rubber wheel was forced into her mouth and the rim snapped tightly over her upper and lower teeth. A small valve sprouted from the wheel. The Ringmistress attached a bicycle pump and inflated the wheel, forcing Zoe’s mouth open, to the point where her jaw ached. The Ringmistress had only one small dislike of the rubber wheel. It severely curtailed the slave’s ability to scream. The pump was disconnected, then the game continued, with contestant number one taking his second spin of the roulette wheel.
“Nineteen points and the Mousetrap,” the Ringmistress announced, signalling an assistant to bring forth the necessary equipment. “But I see no reason to trap a poor, defenceless little mouse. Trapping a poor, defenceless little slave is so much more fun.”
She raised the front of Zoe’s gown and tied the hem to the iron bar extending from her collar, with a piece of wire. Mousetrap in hand, she then knelt before her and stretched the left side of her labia. Placing it between the jaws of the mousetrap, she released the spring. Zoe jolted, as the steel jaw snapped shut on her pussy. The Ringmistress left it hanging there and took a second trap from her assistant. This was attached, in similarly painful fashion, to the opposite half of the slave’s sex.
“Such pain she must be feeling,” the Ringmistress cackled. “Contestant number two, take your second spin and let us see what else lies in store for her.”
The result of this spin was a slim red rubber dildo, with a steel clip sprouting from the crown. This was attached to Zoe’s clitoris. A long electrical lead dangled from the base of the dildo. When this was plugged into a socket, an eyeball rattling shock was delivered through the clit clip, at thirty second intervals. This treatment would continue, at least until the game was finished.
Troy was enjoying his evening more, with every passing minute. He liked the style of the Ringmistress. To watch a fellow sadist deriving such joy from their art was a true joy. Seeing Zoe suffer multiplied the pleasure, many times over. All he needed to make his night complete, was to win her in the game.
The next spin of the wheel won for Zoe’s already tortured breasts a scalding coating of molten candle wax. Then, it was Troy’s second turn. He was luckier this time. A score of thirty five and a slave punishment that was exquisite in its cruelty.
The Ringmistress ripped Zoe’s gown down the back, leaving only a patch of silk pinned by the arrow to her left buttock. She pulled the pale buns wide apart and an assistant wedged a half moon shaped piece of timber, with tiny nails jutting from both sides, into the cleft. When Zoe’s buttocks were pushed back together, the nails gouged her flesh. For maximum effectiveness, a leather belt was pushed through the loop attached to the half moon and tightly buckled around her waist.
“How much more can she take?” the Ringmistress wondered aloud. “Let us find out, gentlemen, as each of you takes his final spin of the roulette wheel.”
Gold Injection was the final selection of contestant number one. A bucket was brought forth, into which the Ringmistress invited the four contestants to urinate. She then plunged a huge plastic syringe into the steaming bucket, drew it full, then pushed the point through the small hole in the centre of Zoe’s mouth wheel. Fresh piss was squirted directly back her throat. She had no choice but to swallow. The bucket contained enough for twenty fills of the syringe. While the Ringmistress was dosing Zoe, her two Assistant Mistresses strutted around the ring, whipping the other three whimpering slaves. In the Sado Circus, this was called value for money.
Zoe’s next punishment was a further beating. This was administered to her bare buttocks by the Ringmistress, using a cane. As the points scored for this punishment were twenty-eight, that was the number of savage strokes her bottom received. The cane was then handed to the first Assistant Mistress, who caned the backs of her thighs a further twenty eight times. The second assistant then took her turn, concentrating on her belly and frontal thighs. The beating left Zoe streaked in several shades of red. Tears streamed down her face and she whimpered softly, jerking with each electrical shock to her clitoris.
Only two spins of the wheel remained. The penultimate earned for Zoe a form of nipple torture she had not previously been unfortunate enough to experience. The Assistant Mistresses teased her brown buds to full stiffness, then slipped a thick silver band over each. The pain began when two long silver pins were pushed through the small holes in the bands, piercing her nipples, the points emerging through the top side of the hoops. The assistants then held a pair of welding torches, on low flame, to the base of the pins. As they heated, they turned from black, to red, to yellowy white, the glow burning straight up through Zoe’s nipples, until the tips of the pins were as white hot as the base. Acrid tendrils of smoke drifted from her nipples to her nostrils. She could hear the hiss of the welding flames and was certain they were actually burning her with them. She longed to pass out, so that the all-consuming pain would be lost, but that was yet another mercy denied.
Even before he stepped up for his final spin of the wheel, Troy felt he was destined to win. When the ball fell on thirty-three, he almost cheered.
“The winner!” the Ringmistress shouted, stepping up to shake his hand. “This fine young slave is yours for the next two hours, to enjoy as you please. Perhaps you would like to start by treating her to her final punishment of the game.”
“Gladly.” Troy looked at the wheel. The ball was lying on the symbol of a crown.
“Nice to finish on a ceremonial note,” the Ringmistress said, presenting him with a red velvet cushion, upon which rested a crown of gold plated barbed wire.
Troy lifted the crown in his gloved hands and placed it upon Zoe’s head, pressing firmly down, so that the barbs pricked her scalp. An Assistant Mistress then handed him a bucket of cold, stale urine, which he emptied over Zoe’s head, completely drenching her.
The Ringmistress addressed her audience. “Gentlemen, I hope you have all enjoyed the show. But the end of the performance does not mean an end to the pleasures of the Sado Circus. I now invite you all into the ring, to pleasure yourselves with my three other slaves. Take your time and enjoy them to the full. Remember, only you can hear their screams.”
While the horde of men took full advantage of her offer, ravenously attacking the three helpless girls, an Assistant Mistress freed Zoe from her podium and dragged her from the ring. In the private dungeon, Troy could torture her at his leisure.
“Care to join me?” he asked the Ringmistress.
“I would love to,” she replied, leading him down the steps.
An Assistant Mistress, armed only with a bullwhip, remained in the ring, to watch over the violent orgy and ensure the three victims were not seriously harmed. After she had thrown Zoe in the dungeon, her partner rejoined her.
Zoe was stripped of the remains of her gown, along with the torture implements attached to her, before being hung by the wrists from a chain dangling from the ceiling of the dungeon. Her toes barely touched the floor and the irons bit into her wrists. Troy chose a whip from the arsenal on the wall, then nodded to the Ringmistress to remove the blindfold.
Zoe blinked in the flickering candlelight, seeing only shadows, for a minute. When she discerned the features of the black clad figure before her, like a nightmare brought to life, she uttered a small scream.
Troy smiled. “We meet again, my pretty one. Small world, isn’t i
t? So small, in fact, that your beloved sister could find no hiding place in it.”
“Jenna!” she cried. “She’s alive!”
“Barely,” Troy answered. “And not for much longer. After all the trouble she caused and the money she cost me, I’ve decided to make her the ultimate example to the rest of my slaves. Do you know what a snuff video is?”
Zoe nodded weakly.
“Your sister is destined for stardom,” he continued. “I’ll send a tape to the Ringmistress. I’m sure she’ll be glad to let you watch the final hours of your twin’s miserable life. It’s the closest you’ll ever get to saying goodbye to her.”
It never occurred to Zoe that he might be lying. All she saw in his cruel eyes was the death of her only hope. Without Jenna to live for, there was nothing. She began to cry, then scream with all the breath that remained in her lungs. Troy and the Ringmistress began simultaneously whipping her, but she scarcely felt the hard tongues of leather that scorched her breasts and buttocks. The agony of a whipping, or any of the other tortures she had endured were nothing, compared to that of losing the twin that was the other half of herself.
Chapter 15
Jenna had waited patiently for the Hell Kings to offload their drug supply, before tentatively broaching to Chaim the idea of rescuing her sister. Now that he and the gang were rich, she reasoned there could be no better time.
“Your sister ain’t my problem,” he told her. “Forget her.”
“Master, I can’t,” Jenna replied. “She’s back there at Rancho Diablo, being tortured and abused by those monsters, while I’m free with you. It isn’t fair.”
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