Chapter 2: Training a New Abyssal 2: The Slaughter

Irith woke up screaming. Her hands clutched against her legs, feeling the burning searing along her nerves, paralyzing her. Her shrill voice echoed against the walls of her bedroom. With the pain filling her, she tried to force her mind into some semblance of sanity. Slowly, details of her torture drifted through her thoughts and she realized, despite the apparent calmness of her room, was in more danger than she ever thought possible. Her eyes, wide with fright, snapped back and forth, scanning her room for the dark shadow of her rapist and torturer, the stranger who invaded their party only the night before.

Memories of her rape came violently and she felt a sob choking her. It caught in her throat, her muscles refusing to let it go. Gasping for breath, she forced it out, feeling hot tears splashing down on her naked legs. Her hands stretched out, scratching her dirt-crusted fingernails against the dried blood on her legs. The tears came faster when she finally managed to let out another sob, then another. Her fingers worked at her legs, pushing away dirt and cum-soaked dirt that flaked off and scattered along her virgin wool sheets.

The pain in her legs was intense, but steady. As long as she didn't move, she could almost pretend it was a pulled muscle or another injury from the farm. But as soon as she looked down at her brown-streaked legs, at the two black masses that formed at the back of her ankles, she felt the pain once again. Trembling, she tried to pull her leg up, to bring it closer, but only a burning ache filled her thighs, her legs refused to even twitch. Still sobbing, she tried again, praying for her leg to move.

When it didn't, she buried her hands in her face.

“This isn't fair!”

Fortunately, no one answered her. She glanced across the room, to the gaping opening of her bedroom door. Down the hall, she could see her parent's room, the door shut. Below, she could see where the hallway rug was shoved aside, probably from some warrior stealing from her family's home. Automatically, her eyes focused on her small dresser. Hoping that they never found the cache of jade and silver, she jumped as the muscles in her left leg gave a sudden twinge, sending pain arching down her spine.

Bringing her attention back, she stared down at her useless legs. They refused to twitch or even shift, despite her efforts. Shaking with fear, she reached out and touched her big toe on her right foot. It felt strange, like her limb wasn't even part of her body, but she continued to tap it as she fought the rising pain. Gingerly, she curled her fingers around her foot and pulled it close, fighting the disconnect of her own body and the growing agony. Bringing it closer, she stared down at the gaping wound at the back of her ankle, where her rapist hamstrung her with his gruesome weapon, the Sky-Cutter.

She frowned, staring down at her injury. The edges were purple and red, the gash filled with dried blood. She very gingerly stroked it, jumping slightly at the pain, but she didn't feel a raw gaping cut. Instead, it felt like something weeks old, barely hovering on the edge of infection but it was healing. Surprised and shock, she looked over at her other ankle and saw it was the same, weeks healed though the rest of her body was still injured from the night before.

Carefully, her body shaking from the effort, she started to catalog her scrapes, bruises, and other wounds with her fingertips. She winced at the sore muscles but she continued with her morbid need to focus on her injures instead of thinking of the more darker thoughts, such as where her rapist was. Her fingers came up between her limp legs and she froze. Closing her eyes tightly, she brought them closer, feeling the scraped skin of her inner thighs and the dried cum that made them sticky. Her throat felt dry and tight as she forced herself to explore deeper. Her questing fingers found her pubic hair, matted with her own blood and her attacker's cum. She squeezed her face as the smell wafted up, reminding her of her own brutal violation. For a moment, she morned her virginity being torn away by such a monstrous cock. The image of it, twisted rod of flesh, sent a terrible spasm through her and she forced herself to focus back on her injures.

Her labia was painful and sore. On her fingers, it felt swollen and broken, the hole into her being still damp with her rape. Slowly, she brought up her fingers and sobbed at the redness of her fingertips. Blood. Her blood. His violation tore her deep inside, ripped her apart even as he destroyed her life.

Tears welled up in her eyes. Pulling her fingers away, she wiped them on her sheets and stared at the reddish smear across the formerly white sheets. For a long time, she refused to move, staring down at the stark reminder of her new reality.

A scream outside ripped through her musing. Her head snapped up to stare at the window of her bedroom as, to her horror, a splash of blood splattered against it. She lurched toward it, then collapsed as her legs refused to move. The burning pain almost doubled inside her when her body tried to compensate, tearing at muscles and tendons no longer connected. A sharp shriek echoed against her walls again as she tightened herself up against the pain. Her fingernails dug into her palms, trying to overpower the agony that coursed through her. Outside, the screams rose into a shrill tone, then abruptly silenced in a short gurgling noise.

Irith turned her head away, unwilling to hear the next sound. It came after a few minutes, a deeper bellow and the sound of struggles. She could hear the roar of laughter as the angry bellows vibrated her window. At the first piercing sound of pain, she buried her head in her pillows, suddenly feeling nauseous. The cries of pain cut through her pillow and she piled her blankets on top of it, huddling in the pain of her body and the agony she felt in her heart with every new scream. It went on forever, or at least it felt like forever, before it ended in another gurgling death. As the last sound echoed in her head, she felt the tears splashing down on the pillow.

With a start, she realized she wasn't crying for them, however. Instead, she was crying for herself. The idea of being out there, in their place, terrified Irith almost as much as the thought of never walking again. For that, she cried.

The next scream sent a bolt of terror in her heart as she heard it. It was one of the younger girls of the ranch. Sobbing, she forced herself out of the blankets.

“No…”

Suffering every movement, Irith started to pull herself across her bed toward the window. Her legs trailed behind her, sending bolts of sensations through her with every twitch. She had to clutch the blankets, dragging herself by her arms. By the time she reached the window, she was gasping for breath and soaked in sweat. The stench of sweat, blood, and dirt flooded her senses while she grabbed the window sill. Letting out a whimper, she pulled herself up to peer through the blood-splattered glass.

They were torturing the girl. Irith sobbed as she watched the young girl being stretched apart by four ropes and a leering man holding a knife over her head. With a slash, he cut through her dress and tore it open. For a brief moment, Irith was terrified they were going to rape the innocent girl. Then, the man jammed his knife into her belly and started to tear it open. The terrified screams, painful in their volume and octave, scraped against Irith's nerves. The frantic begging as the girl's murderer yanked her chest and stomach open and started to pull out steaming coils of innards, tossing them aside with casual cruelty. Irith sobbed loudly, watching the heartless torture of a girl in front of her. She couldn't tear her eyes away though. Instead, she watched with morbid fascination, her fingers digging into the window sill with the profound disturbance she felt.

It took almost a half hour for the girl to die, her screams fading off into wails, then silence. Her torturer continued gutting her, spreading out her organs and body into a large circle of red soaked into the ground. Irith trembled as she stared at it. The circle was almost a hundred feet across, planted in the middle of her family's farm. The tables from the party were shoved to the side, creating an area of sorts. An arena of blood and pain.

Three men went into one of the barns and came out with another ranch hand. It was a younger man, only a few years older than Irith herself. But, at the sight of them forcing him to his knees turned her stomach. She could almost feel the blood squelching on the ground as they stripped him. At the fight sight of the gutting knife, she turned her head away. His scream of pain terrified her, more so because she could picture exactly what they were doing to him.

His terror haunted her as she pressed herself against the wall underneath her window sill, still sprawled across her bed. Her useless legs were twisted in the sheets, sending occasional bolts of pain in time with the terrified sounds outside.

“Not watching the festivities?”

At the sound of the cracked hissing voice of her rapist, Irith whimpered loudly and tried to crawl into the wall. Her fingernails dug into the plaster as she turned her head toward her bedroom door.

He was standing there, somehow avoiding the spears of light that came through the window. In the day, she could see how he was handsome once, except for the cruelty that glowed in the back of his eyes and the disapproving slash of his mouth. A jet-black plate covered his chest. It looked like the breastplates she saw in her history books, but this one somehow drank in the light to appear darker than night. As she watched, a ghostly face rose up in the glassy surface and she realized she was more frightened than before. Her eyes trailed down, focusing on the black chain armor that covered his arms and legs. They appeared to be of the same material and she hoped she wouldn't see more ghostly apparitions floating in them. He wore solid metal boots and gloves; she shivered as she remembered them pressed against her naked, helpless body.

He cleared his throat, the angry sound ripping into her. With another whimper, she looked up at the humorless face staring down at her.

“I asked question, sow.”

His right glove creaked as he curled into a fist. Irith stared with growing terror, working her lips as she tried to force a word past her suddenly dry throat.

“N-No.”

He moved with a flash, covering the short distance across the room. She let out a scream as his black gloved hands grabbed her shin, yanking them toward the edge of the bed. Her fingernail almost ripped off as he dragged her close to the edge. Then more pain as he squeezed them tightly before lifting her helpless legs up with his powerful strength. She was paralyzed with pain as he forced her legs back, pressing her knees up against her bruised breasts and filling her with agony. She felt suddenly helpless, looking down at her exposed, violated pussy. The tearing sensation inside shocked her as she felt her torn-open tunnel being once again exposed to her rapist.

He growled at her, “I do not like repeating myself, bitch!”

His words pummeled her as he shoved her ankles into one hand, one metallic finger pressing directly into the gash his weapon left in her. She arched her back, trying to pull her feet away but his strength overwhelmed her as he shoved down, pinning her to the bed. With his free hand, she watched as he reached down and opened up his armor, freeing the twisted staff of his flesh into the air.

Seeing it in the light did nothing for Irith's growing terror. It looked like it was the result of some accident, the length of the huge shaft twisted and bent, with huge bulges out of the side of it. Thick veins, some of them as large as her smallest finger, rose out of the side as the entire thing swelled into full hardness.

“No! No, please! Please don't!”

She heard his snarl as he grabbed her legs with both hands. Pulling back with his hips, she started to scream just as he slammed his cock forward.

It tore into her, ripping apart her pussy and plunging deep into the violated tunnel. She felt every horrible ridge and pulse as he slammed into her, burying almost two thirds of his inhuman cock into her defenseless depths. Her throat seized as he yanked it out, old blood dripping off the endless cracks and crevices. She drew in a long, desperate shred of breath before he speared her again, this time plunging his entire length into her body. She felt the swollen, bulbous hand crashed against her inner walls, feeling like they were tearing her apart.

His growl vibrated down his length as he crushed her chest with her own legs.

“I gave you two orders! Two orders and you can't obey even the first!”

Irith tried to remember the orders, but his cock sawed into her, tearing at her inner walls until it shimmered with her blood and juices. She wanted to sob, cry, or do anything. Her arms refused to work as he stared into her eyes, tearing his cock into her with hard, brutal strokes. She felt them slammed into her limits, yanking apart her tunnel. Even her labia was yanked apart cruelly as he drove into her with the force of a unnatural storm. Her body was slammed into the wall, forcing her neck into an unnatural position as he rammed into her. There was no pleasure for her, but she could somehow sense that he was enjoying himself raping her as he grunted loudly.

The tearing agony faded slightly as her blood and his juices slicked the violated opening. Slurping noises filled her tiny bedroom as he raped her hard and fast, his cock swelling with every stroke in her formerly virgin body.

Then, he came inside her, soaking her insides with his molten seed. She sobbed at the first searing blast inside her. He grinned down at her, triumphant and heartless, his dark eyes forcing hers to stare into the void of his gaze.

“I'm going to breed you, Irith. I'm going to make your belly swell with my seed. That is the role of women, that is your role in this little drama. Your life… your life is nothing but to produce more men for the world.”

His dark hissing voice sent shivers down her spine. She felt her body squeezing around his twisted cock, trying to force it out, but it just pumped another black of cursed seed into her body, threatening to impregnate her with just his will.

His hands released her ankles, but his metal-clad chest continued to pin her. She felt his gloved hands reached down, fingers wrapping around the junction of her leg and her hip. His other hand forced her leg away as he grabbed her breast, his icy fingers grabbing the soft flesh and squeezing slowly. The hand on her hip tightened also and soon it was sending warning pang of pain that quickly turned into sharp agony. The fingers around her breast dug in, the sharp edge of his fingertips cutting into the soft mound. She whimpered, tears dripping from her eyes.

“I'm going to repeat myself once, sow. Just one more time.”

She forced herself to listen, despite the pain overwhelming her. His eyes glittered darkly as he bore down, his cock surging hotly inside her, swelling again before splattering her insides.

“I am your master. Every question I ask… You. Will. Answer!” He squeezed the joint and Irith screamed out in pain. As she arched her back, trying to escape it, he twisted her breast, his fingernails digging into the delicate skin.

“And you will answer, 'master!'”

His bellow drowned out her scream. With one final pound, he crushed her hips with the force of his blow and twisted hard before letting got of her with a jerk.

“Now, sow, I asked you a question!”

He screamed at her as he yanked his cock out powerfully. Irith thought that her insides would be torn out as his dripping cock burst into view. Blood and juices and cum oozed along his twisted length and he glared down at her. Irith felt fear rising up, fear of what to do. She furiously thought back. Her hesitation earned her a glare and a threat to grab her again, so she frantically cried out.

“Master!”

A small smile ghosted across his lips, but he didn't rape or hit her. Instead, he stood up straighter and crossed his arms across his chest.

“Answer the question then.”

Thankful that she figured it out, she spoke softly in a whimper. Her eyes refused to leave the dripping length, the feeling of revulsion rising up in her throat. Her insides felt torn and bleeding but she focused on the present.

“No… master.”

He almost seemed proud, “Good, good. Just remember that I'm your master and you might live until tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” At his glare, she amended herself, “Master?”

Her rapist nodded in curt approval. “You have not been trained for your true purpose in the world. Instead, your parents gave you the idea that, somehow, you were free to,” he paused for a moment frowning, “that you actually had the right to go out in the world on your own.”

He leaned forward, his carrion breath gagging her.

“I'm here to remind you that your position is final and nonnegotiable. You and your kind are nothing but devices for producing more men. Just as it is my duty to breed you, it is yours to carry my child into this world.”

She shook at the thought of bearing his child, but the dark, humorless eyes allowed no response. He reached out, his black mailed hand grabbing her shoulder as he pulled her up into a sitting position. She felt unsteady, her legs refusing to balance her and when she tried, the aching pain shot up her helpless legs. Cum dripped out from between her legs, soaking her sheets. She felt a sob rising in her throat and swallowed hard to stop it.

He stared at her for a long count before speaking.

“Now, you spend the rest of the day watching what we do, it is very important.”

“Why… master?”

He paused for a moment, looking up at the window as a fresh scream rattled against it. When he looked down, there was a scowl of anger and something else that left her fearful for her very life. For a moment, she thought he would attack. To her surprise, he didn't.

“Do you know what a shadowland is, girl?”

Irith didn't have to think back much, the old Immaculate Order monk who came through every year told the children about it. They were lands where the Underworld, the land of the dead, leaked through into Creation. During the Calibration, five days at the end of the year, shadowlands became more than just a stain in the world, the ghosts of the dead walked and preyed on the living. She gasped, her eyes widening in fear. Her rapist held her tightly.

“Normally, it takes a battle or terrible things to create one, but a skilled person, with the right set of victims, can create one in a matter of days. It will only be small and will only last a single Calibration,” he chuckled mirthlessly, “but for my purposes, it will be sufficient.”

“Only one… why are you doing this? Master?”

He released her and she clutched the edge of her bed to regain her balance. He stepped back, his boots loud against the floor of her room.

“You, Irith. Unlike what your parents told you, you weren't born on the first of the new year. You were born at the very end of Calibration. A baby without the blessing of the gods.”

Irith whimpered, tears threatening to form again, “No…”

He grunted angrily, “Do not forget ‘master,’ girl. Irith, you were born during Calibration. And the underworld and my masters plan on having you back in their embrace in six days.”

“You are lying!” She appended herself in quieter tone, “Master.”

He sighed, “I have no reason to lie to you. I have repeatedly stated my opinion of your worth. You are a breeder, good for nothing but carrying children.”

He spat, “So, watch as I torture and kill everyone you ever knew, just so my masters can have their will with your body and soul.”

He spun around and disappeared from sight, his boots no longer making any noise. Only the quiet slam of the front door told her that he left, but she was left standing there, shaking with the revelations and also the growing fear that he had something far worse in mind that gutting or even torture.

Outside, the screams continued. Stirring herself from her horror, Irith obeyed her “master” and pulled herself back to the window. The tears splashed down on her cheeks as she lifted her body and rested on the edge of the bed, peering down as they dragged out a new victim. It was one of the older hands. Irith couldn't stop crying as she watched him being dismembered, his voice giving out long before he stopped moving. She wanted to tear her eyes away from it, but then she saw her rapist watching the window. Fearful, she forced herself to watch as they killed one man after the other. With the man in black in charge, it would take hours for one to die, sometimes he would have three or more being tortured at the same time, their blood soaking into the hard soil. Rivers of gore and fluids ran along the edges of the bloody circle, pooling into morbid reminders of the ones who died only hours before.

Every time Irith wanted to look away, she caught the eye of the rapist. His dark, impenetrable gaze kept her locked into position. Even as her body started to complain, the need for food and the outhouse rose, she couldn't find the ability to move away. Instead, it just hurt more and more until it was overshadowing even the pain of her legs.

She never thought she would make it, but as the sun started to color the horizon, she watched as he entered the house. She didn't know if she should be watching the torture or waiting for him. She decided to focus on his literal words and kept her eyes riveted on the slaughter below. She didn't hear him, but she felt his icy hand press against her shoulder.

“I see you actually can obey, Irith.”

She shivered, wanting to look away but not.

“Yes, master.”

He rubbed his mailed gauntlet against her shoulder and she cringed at the feeling of the icy metal. His fingers dug into her shoulder for a moment, then she felt him crawling on the bed. Fighting back the tears, she waited for him to stop moving. He did, pulling his hand back to lift her waist up. Her legs, still refusing to move, laid limply as he entered her from behind, forcing his twisted, mutated cock into her body. It was moist between her legs and she closed her eyes tightly against the pain.

He grunted as his shaft bottomed out inside her, forcing her insides to stretch tightly around his knotted mass.

“Soon you'll learn your place, girl.”

He thrust forward hard and Irith's head bumped against the window. She planted her palms against it, holding it away from her head but that forced her back on his shaft. Her hips ached from being held up by his mailed gauntlets, but nothing compared to the growing discomfort of needing the outhouse and him driving his twisted cock deep inside her body.

“In fact, once you learn your place, you'll find the pain will diminish, but never pass.”

He drove into her again and she whimpered from the discomfort. His knots and twists dragged along the folds of her pussy like fingernails, but it no longer felt like he was tearing her apart. She could feel every bump as they grabbed her insides, tugging on them before sliding out.

She let out a shuddering gasp, fogging the window, but he ignored her. His fingers dug deeply into her body as he fucked her, plowing his cock in and out at his own rapid, brutal pace. She felt him come inside her a few moments later, soaking her insides. The idea of one of them seeding her filled her with sorrow, but she knew that it was becoming her position in life, at least from the rapist's point of view.

He pulled out of her and leaned back. Irith slumped against the window, then down against her blankets, trying to curl up as hot juices dribbled out of her abused opening.

His dark chuckle drew her attention up and she looked at him.

“Already breaking? I thought you'd last a lot longer, girl.”

She started to cry, but he stood up with a sigh, wiping off his cock with her sheet before tucking it back.

“Tears don't move me, girl. They haven't in centuries and I have no interest in starting now.”

She shook her head, “No, I… master, I didn't.”

His eyes narrowed and she felt a rush of fear staring into his eyes. It felt like he was going to hurt her again. His hand snapped out, grabbing her hair and she screamed out briefly.

“Quiet!”

Forcing her jaw to clamp shut, Irith whimpered as he dragged her toward him.

“Do you have to go? Outside?”

The idea of going out into the bloodbath frightened her, but she needed the bathroom badly.

“Y-Yes, master.”

Without asking another question, he turned and dragged her from the bed. She tried to get on her feet, but the screaming agony caused her to slump. She felt her scalp exploding in pain as he dragged her out of her room. Her hands skittered against the ground, trying to find a balance. He didn't even pause as he dragged her down the stairs bodily, his strength easily scraping her against the ground. Her naked breasts were pinned against the stairs, sending shocks of pain through her body. He continued to drag her outside, through the bloody soil and to the outhouse.

The stench was overwhelming, but being dragged through it was almost more than Irith could bear. By the time he threw her on the outhouse seat, she was sobbing pitifully. He snarled and held her there as she tried to hold her balance. After the second time she almost fell through the hole, she winced and spoke softly.

“Master, could I get some help?”

His eyes were unreadable as he stepped back into the outhouse and held her long enough to finish her business. He even held her as she cleaned herself up, using a wet rag outside of the outhouse to remove some of the blood and dirt that smeared her body.

Lower lip trembling, she thanked her master. He grunted before pulling her off the outhouse seat. Instead of dragging her by her hair, she was surprise when he threw her over his shoulder, so her head was facing his stomach and her legs laid limply down his back. He stepped across the bloody field and returned her to the room.

Dropping her hard on the bed, he looked down at her. Sprawled across the dirty sheets, she tried to arrange her body. His breath came loudly but slowly as he stared at her. She wondered if he was admiring her or pitying her when he cleared his throat.

“And tonight's lesson: nothing is for free.”

She looked up, trying to read him. She shivered in fear as she clutched herself.

“What… master?”

“Do not make me repeat myself. Everything I do for you, I will demand something in return.”

The fear peaked inside her. Irith cringed against her blankets, trying to ignore the feeling of the dried dirt and grime underneath her. She felt her breath coming in long shudders as she looked up.

“What… master?”

He thought for a moment, then answered curtly.

“I want you to impale yourself. Take your own destiny in your body.”

She gulped, thinking he was talking about the spits in the barn or something more serious. Her rapist started to drop. His heavy armor floated with ghostly images as he dropped it to the ground. It clanged and soon his chain armor followed. She watched him as he quickly stripped down naked. At the first sight of the hundreds of scars and lines across her body, she gasped loudly. He shrugged.

“I earned my position in life and don't you forget it, girl.”

He gestured to his body as he finally stripped off the last bit.

“These are the marks of nine guards who caught me when I,” he paused in mid-sentence. Clearing his throat, he started a new statement.

“I tracked down all nine of them when I was able. I killed them, their families, and even their loved ones. It took me almost two decades to do it.”

“Why, master?”

He glared at her, “Because I could. Those who try to kill me better succeed, or I will make sure they never try again.”

She whimpered as she stared at his naked body, the rippling muscles. Around her crotch, she could see that the flesh was twisted and pulled, scarred like his length that stood throbbing before her eyes. She tried to ask another question, stalling her obvious fate.

“Why did they try to kill you, master?”

He leaned over and pushed her against the wall. Crawling on the bed, he stretched out on his back and looked at her.

“Because I raped seventeen virgins in one night.”

She gasped, holding her hand over her mouth. He chuckled, seeing her response.

“Yes, that is why I'm known as the Rapist of Seventeen Virgins. But now, girl, you have other duties to perform.”

She shivered as her eyes focused on his cock, standing up straight and throbbing. Precum dripped down along the cracks and budges, following the twisted, inhuman length. There was no question of what he wanted her to impale herself on. Her insides clenched up with the thought of being impaled on that, but his hard look allowed for no escape. He made no effort to help her, just stared at her with his black eyes.

Irith licked her lips, feeling her heart pounding against her ribs as she levered herself up against him, moving her body with her arms as she wished her legs would once again function. There was no question what he wanted. She started to bring it to her mouth when he barked sharply.

“No!”

She jumped, looking at him in fear. He snarled.

“My cock goes in only one place in your body. And if it isn't there in twenty seconds, you'll find yourself being gutted before the night is over.”

The hard, cruel voice shook her. He started to count down slowly and she frantically dragged herself across his body. It hurt to move her legs but the countdown frightened her more. Her naked body slid across his as she pressed his cock against her stomach. Biting back the pain, she lifted one limp leg across his legs and then positioned it against his. She started to sweat with the effort as he continued to count down slowly, reaching ten by the time she sat back up, his cock standing straight up in front of her. Her legs screamed out in agony as she briefly put her weight on them. She panted with the effort, her body trembling with fear, as she stared at his huge cock, dreading the feeling if her impaling herself.

“Eight.”

She gasped with the effort as she planted her hands on his stomach. She felt his muscle cord underneath her as she leaned forward, dragging the bulbous member along the line of her cleavage and toward her belly. Her panting grew louder as she pressed her breasts against his chest, using her hands to force her hips up as the cruel rod of flesh moved ever so close to her pussy.

“Five.”

Working as fast as she could, she had to strain her muscles to lean forward, balancing up so her hips would rise up into the air. At the sight of her limp legs, she almost lost it, but she managed to keep herself working the cock down until she felt it brush against her labia. The large, thick head pushed against her clitoris and she felt a tiny shimmer of pleasure that was never before.

“Two.”

The tears coming, she forced her hips down, arching her back forward until she felt his cock sliding up in the channel of her body, lining up the thick member against the slicked entrance of her sex. She felt his juices from earlier oozing out of her as he spoke again.

“One.”

With a tiny, inward scream, she dropped herself. His cock caught on her entrance as her full weight fell on it. She let out a tiny whimper as she forced it into her. Then, gravity took over and she felt a rush as she was impaled, his bulbous cock spearing into her, tearing her open as the head slammed against her cervix. To her horror, she realized that an inch still remained outside of her tightly stretched labia. Praying he wouldn't notice, she forced herself to sit up, feeling her body balancing on the cock that filled her. It never felt so big, so huge than at that point where she was helplessly speared on his rod of exalted flesh.

His hands reached up. The icy skin pressed against her nipples, his fingers curling around her large mounds. She gasped as he shoved her up into a sitting position, her body being forced on the cock as her innermost wall screamed out in growing pain. The pressure was increasing and, in a moment, she felt like it would punch through and impale her womb directly. He kept her in a sitting position as the pain sparkled inside her.

“Now, make me cum.”

She gasped, fighting the pain and discomfort. Looking down at his hard eyes, she didn't move as she tried to think how. He squeezed her breasts, digging his fingernails into the delicate flesh. Feeling the pain, she felt her inner walls clutching around his shaft, squeezing around it in a slick vise. He let out a long breath, a smile curling his lips and squeezed even tighter, mauling her breasts.

Irith whimpered loudly and rocked forward. It felt terrible with the hard shaft pushing up inside her guts, her body clenching around it. She wanted to shove it out, but gravity betrayed her and she felt the pressure still increasing. Rocking back, she started to push her body back and forth, rocking the hardened cock inside her body, moving it through the clenching liquid depths of her body. She felt every twist scraping against her insides as the hardness grew larger, swelling inside her.

Her body shook with the effort as she rocked back and forth, moving her body to the limits of her hands. Her legs screamed out in agony, but the fingernails digging into her body were almost worse. She glanced down to see thin trickles of blood well up around the nails and she bit back the flash of pain that filled her. Focusing, she worked her body back and forth, moving around his shaft as it continued to fill her, violate her.

Rapid footsteps came up the stairs and she froze, a blush rising up in her cheeks as a man entered her room. He stopped, staring at her with surprise and hard lust. Rapist of Seventeen Virgins suddenly squeezed her breasts painfully, twisting them until she screamed out.

“I didn't tell you to stop.”

Humiliated, Irith forced herself to move her hips again, twisting and pushing with her hands, her fingers digging into his hard belly for balance. His cock surged inside her, stretching her inner walls tight with the unyielding hardness.

Rapist spoke curtly, “What is it?”

“Master, we found a cache of weapons, close to a thousand silver, and two of the girls who ran off.”

“Very well, keep the weapons.”

He twisted her breasts again and she jerked back, forcing his cock deeper into her abused depths.

“Spread out the silver and bring the girls to the front, have them killed in front of their parents.”

The man saluted and turned to leave. Rapist spoke sharply.

“Stay here.”

The man turned around as her master turned his attention back to her.

“Make me come, now.”

Humiliation burning on her cheeks, Irith rocked her body back and forth, leaning against the fingernails that dug into her soft, delicate flesh and dropping herself on his painful shaft. She felt him swelling even more, almost tearing herself apart. Biting back a sob, she continue to rock and shudder against him.

Then, she felt him come inside her. The wet explosion stole her breath away as he twisted her breasts hard, his fingernails cutting into her and pulling her down. She felt his bulbous head grind against her cervix as hot, wet jets of seed filled her. She shuddered as he filled her, her salty tears splashing down on her bruised breasts.

Rapist finished and nodded to the man. The warrior gulped, glanced at Irith before leaving the house. Irith heard him storm down the stairs and sobbed, her back bowed with the humiliation that tore through her.

“And that, Irith, is your true purpose in the world.”

Shoving her off him, he yanked his cock out of her and stood up. He dressed in silence, ignoring the sobbing girl. Without saying another word, he left. Minutes later, she heard new screams echoing outside. Curling up to the best of her ability, she cried her heart out, trying to ignore the wet slickness oozing out of her pussy.

In the morning, Rapist of Seventeen Virgins came to her. He took her on the bed, ripping her legs open and slamming his shaft into her. As he filled her with his seed, he said nothing. After that, he carried her down to the outhouse and back again, again demanding she impale herself. She did, surprised that it didn't hurt as much as before but the feeling of violation continued to grow. As she was forced to watch, she felt empty inside. The place where the tears came produced no more as it became a continuum of suffering, torture, and pain. Body after body was dragged into the center, and they were killed with expertly crafted pain and agony. She sniffed, knowing that Calibration was less than a day away, but there was nothing for her.

The thought of being breed occupied her thoughts as she watched a farm hand being burned alive. She wanted to cry at the idea of carrying his seed, but no tears came. Then, she remembered the Maiden's Tea. In her mother's room. She glanced down the hall, untouched since she woke up the day before. Slowly, she turned her head back and watched the torture. Her hopes rose as she thought about the tea. It wouldn't stop the rape, but it would prevent her from carrying the bastard child of the Exalted rapist.

Her chance came when two men rushed into the circle, slipping on the blood. They called for Rapist of Seventeen Virgins. The murderer turned his head to glance up at Irith, then walked toward them. She watched him leave beyond the barn, chewing on her lip. Taking a deep breath, she prayed that she would be able to sneak away long enough to drown the tea.

Trembling from the effort, Irith dragged herself out of the bed. Digging her fingernails into the floor, she dragged herself along the floor toward her mother's room. The carpet scraped against her body as she drew closer. She felt her arms growing weak, but she had the desperate need to get there. At the door, she had to reach up, despite the pain in her hips and legs, to open the door. The smells of her parents room flooded around her. She focused on the small dresser that had the tea. Biting her lip, she forced herself to drag her body toward it. Her fingers clutched at the drawer until she was close enough to open it. Digging through the undergarments, she found the three small bottles of Maiden's Tea. Grabbing all three, she fumbled with the top of one. The stopper fell off and rolled on the floor. She gasped as she brought it to her lips to drink it.

The soulsteel gauntlet caught her hand, wrapping Rapist's fingers around her entire hand and the bottle. She gasped, icy fear pooling in her stomach as she looked at the black metal hand reaching over her shoulder. A ghostly face of some man, in endless torture, floated to the surface of the metal. In her other hand, she dropped the bottles and heard them rolling across the floor.

She screamed as he picked her up by her hand, his death grip on her hand crushing the bottle. Shards of glass dug into her hand as he spun her around. At the first sigh of his enraged face, she almost lost control of her bowels. Snarling, he yanked her body close to hers, his other hand snaring her free hand and pulling it out until she was stretched tautly between the hand above her and the hand out at her side. She could feel her shoulder screaming out in pain as his rank breath washed over her.

“There are two things in the world I cannot tolerate. The first are women who think they have a chance against me. The second is this.”

He bore down on her hands. She screamed out loudly as she heard bones cracking underneath his powerful grip. A black circle formed in his forehead, dripping blood as he continued to bear down, crushing her hands. Bones snapped and the glass pierced her skin as he utterly broke her hands. Without releasing them, he growled and spun around, her body flying limping. Taking two steps forward, with Irith screaming out in agony, he threw her toward her bedroom. The wind rushed past her, then a bang noise deafened her as she slammed into the window of her bedroom. It shattered, cutting her naked body from head to toe as she felt the outside hair rushing past her. She slammed hard against the room of the house, shards of glass puncturing her body from the force of her impact. The air was driven out of her as she slid down the hard, slatted surface, then plunged out over the edge. At the impact with the blood-soaked ground, she felt something cut into her back and punching through her front.

Stars exploded in her vision and she tried to gasp for breath, her lungs refusing to work. She was aware of men coming around her, staring down at her, but she couldn't move her body. Every pulse of her heart sent agony coursing through her veins. She felt the grind of shattered bones in her hands and one of her legs felt like it was on fire.

A dark shadow loomed over her and she saw Rapist reaching down for her. His gauntlet grabbed her by her neck, cutting off her breath as he squeezed down. The thought of him shattering her neck as easily as her hand filled her with panic and terror, she tried to move, but her ruined hands exploded in agony as they hit his armor.

He pulled her close, his fetid breath hot against her face.

“If you ever do that again, sow, you will never see the light of day because I will rip your eyeballs out and crush them in my fingers.”

His voice was hard and cruel. Irith desperately opened her mouth, trying to breath. Her eyes focused on the bleeding circle on his forehead as he frowned. Searing energy coursed down his arm and into her, tearing her open as she felt electricity and heat killing her. Every inch of her body ignited in pain for a moment before he dropped her back on the ground. She felt a large shard of glass shove deeper into her and looked down to see it sticking out of her side. Slamming his foot against her chest, crushing her left breast, he pinned her to the ground as he yanked the glass out of her.

Irith screamed out in pain, but he just slammed his weight down, his boots cutting into the soft mound before letting it go. Blood spurted up in the air and Irith prayed for a quick death.

But, it didn't come. Instead, the magical energies filled her focused on the wound in her side. She watched as the edges started to heal over, stopping the blood but the scar didn't fade. She realized that he did it before, when he healed her ankles the night of her first rape.

Grinding his foot into her breast, Rapist turned to face the nearest man.

“If she leaves this circle, I will personally kill each and every single one of you. Do you understand?”

The mortal saluted, “Yes, sir.”

Yanking his foot off, the rapist stormed back into the barn for his next victim. Irith couldn't move so she tried to cry. The empty part of her soul remained devoice of tears, so she just curled up in the bloody mud and clutched her ruined hands.

In the hours that followed, she heard the death cries and rattles of too many men. Her breast swelled up with bruises, her nipple disappearing in a sea of black and red. She tried to drown out the sounds of drowning, burning, and gutting, but there was no way to avoid them. They burned themselves into her mind and every moment, Irith prayed for death. Instead, a dead spot appeared in her thoughts, a place where the screams didn't bother her. She fled into it, drowning her thoughts in a dark mist of apathy. She fled the suffering and struggled to no longer identify the people who were being killed in front of her.

She heard them kill Teri, her father's second-hand man calling out to her even as they poured searing hot water into the gaping wound in his stomach. She just curled up tighter, shaking violently. She managed to return to her dead “spot” by the time his voice ended in a gurgling scream.

More people died well into the night. She couldn't hear the buzz of insects over the screams, but she knew they were there. She embraced the death inside her, the part of her that died with each one and prayed for the icy embrace of Oblivion.

Then her brother was brought out. Rapist forced her to watch as he dismembered her brother, watching him flop helplessly on the blood and mud until he drowned when he couldn't lever his face away. She whimpered softly, the stark cruelty of the scene jarring her from her muteness. She struggled to move, but only managed to increase the pain. She tightened her lip and prayed for it to end. Her eyes saw without seeing and she forced herself to forget her brother, to forget the pain of his death.

Rapist of Seventeen Virgins knelt next to her, his hands holding her by her hair, forcing her to watch as they brought out her father. The man who raised her. The man who took care of her. He stood, broken and sobbing, in the center of the blood and gore. He spoke in the hard, cruel tones from before. Any hope of mercy was burned away when he broke her hands.

“Do you want to save him?”

Her father pleaded with his eyes, unable to speak when they cut out his tongue. Irith forced herself to say nothing, forced herself to not feel the agony she knew she would. Rapist released her to curl up as he tortured her father for hours. Night filled the circle of blood and she watched, mute and broken.

He died still trying to reach her. Irith found that she couldn't care any more about him. Her own pains, her own agony consumed her.

Even when they brought her mother out, she barely twitched. Her eyes stared at the center, where they presented the woman to everyone. It was obvious to Irith that they raped her, but she forced herself not to identify her mother, not to recognize her own mother. She didn't even hear the pleading words, the begging.

Rapist said nothing, watching her grow divorced from her friends and family with a smile on his lips. He turned on the sobbing woman and proceeded to break every single bone in her bone. The feeling of anticipation rose as he systematically shattered her arms, legs, ribs. Finally, he grabbed her neck and snapped her spine with one hard jerk that ripped the head clear off. Tossing it into Irith's lap, the exalted stood up in the center and roared. His voice took on a cruel, howling sound.

Around her, the world shook and shivered as the magical hours of Calibration finally took over. A cold, wet wind rose up, bringing the scent of death and rain to Irith. She twitched, looking up as the sky darkened above her. The ground trembled as the blood stains darkened, spreading out with an inky blackness as the wound in Creation grew wider, bringing a little piece of the Underworld into her ancestral home.

The men of Rapist stood around, nervous but proud. They watched as the blood red faded into black and the feeling of death fluttered against them. An inhuman heartbeat pounded against the air as Rapist chanted out foreign words of terrible power. His caste mark, the blood circle in his forehead, dripped as it glowed darkly in the air. The foul stench of necromancy choked her and Irith felt the fear rising up.

The first claw pushed up through the ground at Rapist feet. Her eyes widened as she watched it crawl out of the earth, translucent but more solid that anything she had seen. It swiveled its head toward her and she realized that it was Dereke. But, it wasn't. Instead of the playful man she teased, it was a face twisted into cruelty, the insanity of death distorting the man she knew into something more deadly. Dereke had turned into a ghost, a creation of the dead, the tortured dead.

More hands reached out through the ground as she watched the tortured souls of her ranch come back through from the Underworld, standing around Rapist as the necromancer screamed out the words of his foul spell. Man after man stood there, with dripping claws and masts of pain and rage painted on their face. Their very bodies were already twisted by the foul energies of the Underworld, despite the recent deaths.

The moment passed with a rush as a cool rain started to splash down on the ranch. It passed through the ghosts, splashing on the soaked ground. Rapist started a new spell, his body outlined with the raw forces of necromancy. The rain started to splash on the ghost's body, his spell giving them physical form. Spell after spell was laid down in Creation, cementing the foul energies into the ranch.

Irith felt the fear inside her, but she couldn't move from her position. Rain coursed down her face, soaked her body. She felt all the pains cataloging themselves, flaring up as the waves of energy brushed against her. Next to her, the ghost that was her brother stood close, his claws dancing inches from the side of her face. She gave him a glance and forced herself to look away, to forget the sigh of twisted betrayal that was plain as night across his expression.

It felt like hours until Rapist let his hands down. His boots splashed on the ground as he walked to her, looming over her as he looked down with an expression of hate and anger.

“Now, Irith, your lessons are about to start in ernest.”