Side Story: Queen's Lifelong Prison of Torment 2
The Queen slams her head against the torture rack, grimacing in agony. Blood trickles from her scalp, perhaps. Something slick drips down her back, but she has no chance to check. Moments ago, she was seated in the very torture chair she once used on others. Now bound at her arms, legs, and waist, she lets out a sharp hic at the bite of cold metal.
She refuses to scream and beg for her life like a madwoman—that's her last shred of pride. But it won't last long. Hollow-eyed men loom over her. A familiar face catches her eye: her favorite toy. Her prime torture subject. Once a notorious serial killer who terrorized the kingdom, specializing in tormenting and raping women. For a murderer, he had a decent face and cock, making him one of her most frequent playthings. The infamous pleasure killer approaches slowly, knife in hand.
It's not a blade for killing people—it's for filleting fish. Beside him, another man carries something like pliers. His face rings a bell too.
"I really don't know! Wait! No, guh, guhh! Eeeeekaaaaahhh!!!!"
No sooner do the words leave her mouth than another fingernail rips free. The second one. For a Queen who's never known pain beyond childbirth, it's hellish torment. She doesn't know. More than that, she can't get out. She opens her mouth to explain, then freezes. Even if she did, nothing would change. Now that they know escape is impossible, they're not torturing her for information anymore—they're doing it to make her suffer as much as possible.
"........."
She has to choose her words carefully. Say the right thing, and she might sow discord among them. Maybe even win an ally. After all, she's a stunningly beautiful and alluring woman. A gorgeous flower, thorns and poison be damned. She'll survive this somehow, capture that adventurer, and make him regret being born.
"I don't know!! I told you I don't!!! You, you filth! Slave scum!! How dare you tou—guh guhAAAAAHHHH!!!!"
By the time all her nails and toenails are gone, the Queen regrets her entire life. Why didn't she station more guards? Why cut back on palace security? Why build this prison? Why kill all the builders? Why... If only she'd lived a little kinder, this wouldn't have happened.
"Stop!! Stoooop!!"
She thrashes her face wildly, squealing like a pig. Her pretty features are gone, smeared with snot and tears in a grotesque mess. Still, she has no choice but to wail. They ignore her cries and keep going. She doesn't know how long it's been since they started, but since they pull a nail for every wrong answer, it can't have been that long. Now they produce a small, barbed needle.
Where do they plan to use that?
"Nooooo!! Not there! Not in thaaaat!!!"
"Then tell us how to get out."
"So let me go first! Only I can do it!"
The man replies dryly, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Yeah. Looks like you can take more, Your Majesty."
He sits, shoving a hand between her thighs.
"Guh. Uggghhh!!"
She strains desperately to clamp her legs shut, but the restraints hold firm. He spreads her pussy slowly. The organ she prided herself on—hairless, flawless skin, no odor, meticulously maintained. Now defiled by filthy fingers. He grabs her outer labia, yanking them wide with a speculum, tearing at her inner lips like he'll rip them off.
"Uggghhh!!"
Rip. Riiip. Tearing sounds echo from her cunt. Without childbirth experience, she'd have passed out. Tears streaming, she cranes her neck to look, but massive breasts and dangling hair block the view. She can guess, though. It's her favorite torture.
Plink. Something cold touches inside her inner labia. A thin iron rod studded with barbs.
"........."
She holds her breath. Her body shakes madly at the impending pain, heart pounding like it'll burst. Sweat soaks her, slicking the iron chair. Sticky disgust crawls over her skin, but terror overrides it. Trembling eyes scan the men around her.
"......Ah."
Stab. Something sharp invades her most precious place. A spot she's never touched herself, one no woman should show till death. The barbed rod pierces her urethra.
"AAAAAHHHHHHH!!!! UGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!"
Her urethra. A hard, sharp intruder in her piss hole. It hurts. So much. All prior torture was nothing. The chair rattles wildly; she flails her head. The rod pistons in and out relentlessly. She slams her head back, praying for blackout as she bucks madly. Urine leaks from her urethra; a foul fart erupts from her pussy. Utterly degraded, but she can't think. Just escape this pain. This hell.
The men pin her thrashing body. She wants to bite her tongue, but a ball gag seals her mouth. All she can do is roll her eyes back, drool and snot pouring, piss and shit leaking as she convulses. The urethral torment drags on for dozens of minutes before she gives up resisting. She spills every truth, knowing it's the wrong choice but unable to hold back. She babbles every secret she knows. Did she even finish?
They buzz excitedly at her words. Dozens of minutes later, a crash shatters the murmurs into shouts. Shouts turn to screams; clashes of hard objects and ripping flesh echo long. She barely registers it, face a slimy wreck of drool and tears, hair plastered over her eyes. Eyes sting, but she can't wipe them. She just waits for the chaos to end.
Finally, it quiets. Footsteps approach—one man.
"Your Majesty."
His voice is hoarse, laced with resignation.
"We really can't get out. Even smashing the walls—too many layers. Sewers and vents are too small for people."
"..........."
She tries to speak, but he gags her first.
"The wild ones are all dead. I'm the only survivor."
He brushes back her hair. Blinking, she sees him clearly. Her top toy: pleasure killer, rapist extraordinaire.
"I'd have killed myself rather than rot here, but luckily—very luckily—my favorite woman's right in front of me."
He grins savagely at her. A happy smile.
"I've always wanted to torture a high-class bitch like you, Your Majesty."
He picks up the thin knife and needles.
"Shall we pick up where we left off?"
His twisted smile sinks her heart. No rationality left. He's truly given up. Pure torture now, no info or payoff—just to sate his perverse lust. He strips naked, cock rock-hard with excitement.
"Always wanted to fuck a urethra. You'll endure it, right, Your Majesty?"
"Mmmph!! Mmmmmmph!!"
It takes less than an hour for her to abandon life and beg for death.
Day 1 imprisoned: Her urethra stretched insanely till she blacks out; he revives her with a recovery potion.
Day 2: Urethral penetration impossible now; he switches methods.
Day 3: He rapes her to vent lust. Her first chance to speak—she begs for death. He ramps up the cruelty.
Day 4: Like filleting sashimi, he peels her breasts layer by layer, fucking her leaking milk ducts.
Day 6: Another chance to speak—she offers to be his bride. Freed, naked on her belly, she grovels, begging him to make her his queen. Never dreamed she'd debase herself to such an ugly man.
Day 10: Her hair loses luster; once-flawless skin roughens. Armpit and pussy hair sprouts; she panics.
Day 15: Mid-"torture play," she realizes she's pregnant. Immediate abortion.
Day 20: He grows quieter.
Day 30: Arms and legs amputated.
Month 2: Her beauty gone. Dry red hair. Inflamed skin. Thick bush under arms and crotch. Body reeks like a chicken coop.
Month 3: Instead of torture, he stuffs her in the livestock box. She screams, realizing his intent, but he ignores her—connects a feed hose to her mouth, seals the box tight.
Month 3 + 1 day: No voice. Assuming suicide, she struggles to escape but can't move. Food pumps in constantly, keeping her alive.
Month 3 + 2 days: She regrets her life.
Month 3 + 3 days: Endless curses on her own invention, the livestock box.
Month 3 + 1 week: Regrets birth, begs forgiveness.
Month 4: Begs the gods' forgiveness for being born.
Year 1: Kingdom halts search for missing Queen. First Princess Gloria assumes regency.
Year 1.5: The Queen endures.
Queen's Private Prison: A secret dungeon beneath the palace, known to few. Using her power, the Queen imprisons criminals who should be dead or those who fell from favor for torture. Rare, unheard-of devices abound, letting her enjoy varied sessions for over two months. Stockpiled food and potions mean she'll survive years more.