Chapter 3: Training a New Abyssal 3: The Sessions

Blood and screams filled the night as the angry ghosts tore into the warriors the Rapist brought. A few of them managed to yank their swords out of their sheaths, but the onslaught of claws and teeth tore them from limb to limb. The screams echoed shrilly, bouncing off the walls of the ranch buildings, but the stench of gore and bowels choked Irith. She wanted to cover her mouth, but the shattered bones of her hands only ground together. Biting back a whimper, she forced herself to remain still, watching the massacre of the Rapist's men. The Abyssal himself stood next to Irith, one possessive hand holding her shoulder tightly as he watched.

“Irith, the dead obey any command by the true masters of the Underworld. No matter how much you ask, no matter how much you beg, they are dead to you as is their command.”

His hoarse whisper barely rose up above the screams and wet noises of the ghosts chewing into the bodies of the men. Irith watched with whimpering fear as she saw one ghost cracking into a man's chest, snapping open the ribs and nuzzling into the red chest. It looked up, blood dripping from its jaw and she realized with a start that it was her own brother. He chomped his jaw loudly, spraying blood everywhere before shoving his head back into the gory hole.

She looked up, feeling the horror of it fighting against the numbness that filled her heart.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

He looked down, a scowl etched across his face.

“For that specific reason, Irith.”

She looked up, desperately trying to find hint of mercy in his dark eyes. Finding none, she looked away trying to not thinking about her nakedness, her ruined legs, or even the destroyed bones of her hand. Every inch of her reported constant pain, and she started to retreat back to the dead spot of her heart.

“You actually seem to think you are someone.”

His cold hand grabbed her chin, forcing her head back up until she was staring into his merciless eyes. She tried to close her eyes, not wanting to see it, but he squeezed tightly on her chin until she opened.

“You are no one, girl. You are nothing but a vessel for my seed. You aren't even worthy of having a name.”

He shoved her chin away as he looked back over the killing field that used to be her home. He watched as the last of his own men were torn apart. The final scream faded underneath the wet noises of the cannibalistic spirits. Rapist of Seventeen Virgins reached out and cracked all of his knuckles, a harsh and bitter sound that scraped against Irith's hearing.

“We have a few more sessions left, don't we?”

Irith gasped, looking up, “W-What? What else can you do… to me?”

He looked down, his eyes flashing. Irith felt a surge of fear.

“M-Master!”

His hand snapped out, grabbing her hair and wrenching her up. She felt the pain spiking through her scalp as he lifted her up to the level of his eyes. She whimpered from the pain, twisting in the air. His other mailed hand grabbed her breast, his metal-clad fingers digging into her breast as he drew her closer. She gasped at the pain, but tears refused to come to her eyes.

“You forgot again, never forget I'm your master, sow.”

She tried to nod, but her helpless body was at his mercy.

Rapist had none. Snarling, he released her hand and held her up by the soft, delicate mound of her breast. She felt it starting to tear from her weight before he threw her into the center of the killing field. Her body slammed hard against the ground, splashing up the fresh blood. The bones of her hand ground together from the impact and she let out a shriek that echoed shrilly around her. The dead weight of Calibration bore down on her as she tried to stop the pain from consuming her. She just curled up tightly on the ground, ignoring the cold slurping on the ground and the terrible pains in her body.

The ground trembled violently as she felt Rapist coming up to her. She whimpered and tried to curl herself up, with her legs lying limply along the ground. She closed her eyes tightly, begging for him to walk away.

His icy-cold hand on the back of her neck sent a bolt of anticipated pain through her. She barely had time to scream out as he picked her up, his incredible strength grinding into the sides of her neck, sending yet a new pain coursing through her body as he picked her completely off the ground. Her legs swung back and forth, sending aches of pain up her spine.

Rapist shook her violently and she screamed out from the pains that tore into her. It only lasted a few seconds, but it felt like forever before he dropped her on the ground. Her legs crumpled underneath her. She wasn't allowed to drop to the ground, instead he held her up in almost a kneeling position. Twisted muscles reported growing pain, but the fear of him choked away any of the minor little agonies.

He leaned over, his carrion breath choking her almost as much as the grinding of his fingers into her neck.

“You are nothing, girl, a slave. Nothing but a sack of flesh and bones. As soon as you realize your position in life, then this pain will lessen.”

She almost felt the tears rising up, but a shuffling noise drew her attention away. She looked up, then in front of her as she saw one of the angry ghosts moving toward her. He moved with a deceptive sway, blood dripping from his claws and mouth. Slowly, he opened his mouth and let out a long, rattling hiss.

Her back muscles spasmed as her eyes widened. Her body shook violently as the manifested ghost shuffled in front of her, then stopped. The smell of death clung to its body and she could see where they had disemboweled him. His lifeless eyes slowly rotated down as a long line of bloody slobber reached for the ground.

She whimpered, her eyes locked on the terrible killing claws and teeth. Rapist squeezed tightly on her neck, grinding the bones of her spine together as he lifted her slightly. She looked down to realized that he was holding her head right at the level of the ghost's crotch.

Responding to some silent command, the ghost's eyes flared red and it shifted into position. Ragged claws smeared bright red blood against his pants as he tore open the fabric from his crotch. A lump of shriveled flesh pushed out of the opening, a pair of swollen balls with a penis barely visible above. Irith let out a long shuddering breath, a whimper resonating from her throat. The cock twitched, glowing a sullen red as it began to grow in front of her. A choking stench rose up from the member as it grew, limping forward, then twitching up as the head began to swell. To her growing horror, she watched as the ghost's cock thickened. The head continued to grow, expanding until it was as thick as a small plum, then even bigger until it was a large swollen plum. The shaft continued to stretch out until it was easily a foot long.

Irith whispered, trying to shake her head in Rapist's unyielding grip.

“No, no, no.”

Rapist hissed at her, “Wrong answer.”

The ghost's hand reached up for her, the blood sparkling in the light of some torch. Rapist shoved her face into it and she screamed. The claws spread out and grabbed her skull, the claws in the thumb digging into her cheeks as the rest of them squeezed her skull from behind. She tried to scream out as the swollen, unnatural cock shoved forward, slapping against her mouth. Slime coated her lips, the taste and texture of rotted apples. She fought down a sudden wave of revulsion. The ghostly cock drew back and she had to brace herself the best of her ability as it slammed forward, the swollen member slapping hard against her mouth. She felt the impact of the blow into her jaw, trying to force her lips apart. She almost choked against the taste and texture, but the ghost was already trying to ram his cock against her face.

Irith clamped her jaw shut, but then she felt the sharp points of the ghost's thumbs pressing into her jaw. The point slipped down to the junction of her upper and lower jaw, digging into the skin. She felt the pressure forcing her jaw apart and she screamed out in pain through clenched teeth.

Unyielding pressure continued to force her mouth apart as the swollen head of the cock jammed up against her mouth. She tried to keep her mouth clamped shut, but the pressure continued to force them apart until she felt the cock sliding past her teeth. Gasping in pain, she fought with every inch of her body but the ghost levered her jaw part until he could force his cock into her mouth.

She choked on his shaft, but he just rammed it forward, forcing her lips apart as the swollen head slapped hard against the back of her throat. Her eyes burned as the ghost forced her jaw even further apart, until the muscles screamed out in pain. The swollen cock drew out and slammed forward again, painfully punching against the back of her throat.

The claws piercing the skin of the back of her head as the ghost let out a low, wailing gasp and slammed his cock hard into her mouth. She gagged violently on it, the man refused to pull it back. Instead, he bore down, grinding in into her throat and choking her. The bile began to rise up in her throat. Her eyes began to burn with her struggles.

“Looks like we have a few more tears left.”

Rapist horse whisper was filled with amusement. She couldn't see him with her face being pulled harder to the belly of the walking corpse. His swollen cock slipped further down into her, tearing her throat as he forced it into her throat. She wanted to scream but only a tiny whimper came out, vibrating through her body as the swollen head blocked her breath.

She felt it forcing its way down into her throat even as her lungs began to burn. She could not even imagine the power of the ghost as he drove his cock hard into her, slamming his entire length into her mouth and down into her throat. It tore at her teeth until her nose was rammed up against his stomach, her lips tightly stretched around the base of his inhuman shaft.

He barely crushed her face against his stomach before he yanked his cock out of her mouth. Saliva dripped from his length, along with a greenish slime. She coughed violently, unable to tear her eyes away from the cock that just raped her throat. She felt a single tear splashing down her cheek.

In the midst of one coughing fit, he slammed his cock forward again. It punched into her mouth, scraping against the back of her throat and shoving down into her gullet. The sudden brutality of it tore into her and her face slapped once again against the ghost's face. He ground it into her throat, letting her felt how it stretched her vocal cords and muffled her screams. With a gasp, he yanked it out again. Her teeth caught on his length and she felt his flesh stripping off his swollen length. The bitter taste of it flooded her mouth and she gagged violently, ejecting it. She didn't have enough time to inhale before he rammed his cock back into her mouth, burying it completely in one brutal, violent thrust.

The ghost drove into her, barely giving her a chance to breath before slamming his cock into her again and again. Her throat felt tore and bruised from the brutal, violent thrusts. She felt her skull being forced back into the claws as her throat was raped. As he yanked out, she could feel blood on her lips.

He slammed into her dozens of more times before he let go with a long, wailing hiss and drove his cock hard into her mouth. She felt it tearing into the back of her throat as her face was ground into the zombie's belly. It pulsed, the first sign of life, but then she felt a cool jet of something pumping into her throat. She tried to sob around it, but her vocal cords were crushed against the inside of her throat by the inhuman shaft. The ghost pulled out as he was coming, splattering her face with the cold, slimy goo. The slime that flooded her mouth started a fresh round of coughing, her lungs aching from the effort to clear the taste from her mouth.

She didn't feel the movements of the angry ghost, but when the second one stood in front of her, the claws transferring her helpless body, she looked up just in time to see a cock slamming to her mouth. She opened her mouth to scream and then choked as the undead cock forced its way deep into her mouth. She felt another tear blurring her vision as the second ghost rode her face, crushing her face against his belly as his thick, swollen balls slapped against her chin. The second one came fast, only a dozen brutal strokes and pumping his inhuman seed directly into her throat, coating it with the stick fluid. She choked as he yanked out, but a third one was already waiting, his cock swollen and thick. His claws dug into her head, rivulets of blood matting her hair as he drove into her. She wanted to cry as her body was used, pounded into helplessly until her throat was torn and bleeding.

A fourth took her violently, a thick swollen member that stretched her lips so far apart, they began to bleed. His member ripped into her, bruising her throat. Only his shorter length gave her some respite. When he came, the ghost yanked out to splatter his cum all over her face, letting it drip down her face until the piss-warm rain washed it away. Man after man raped her, each one driving his inhumanly large cock into her mouth and throat until she was coughing up blood and green slime. It burned her face and her lungs. The day above her passed in the endless waves of rape, barely registering on her pain-filled mind. Each ghost seemed to find some new torment for her, from keeping the swollen member buried in her throat until black spots formed in her eyes to the one that tore her lips and throat open even wider with every thrust. The only way she could retain her sanity was to retreat to the empty part of her, the place where the pain faded away and she struggled to no longer feel her body.

She couldn't keep track of which ghost took her, but then there was one that had a cock that made the others look puny. It was a long and swollen member, easily the thickness of her wrist. The purplish-black head dwarfed her fist. Below, two huge balls the side of grapefruits hung low. She looked at it and found herself whispering desperately.

“No… no…” she coughed, her eyes tearing up. Behind him, she could see Rapist watching her, amusement burning his his darkened face. The new ghost stepped forward, his claws reaching. She tried to pull away, but her legs slumped even further down into the mud and blood. The zombie that just raped her released her and she began to fall to the ground, but the angry ghost's claws blurred forward, grabbing her shoulders. The points of his talons pierced her skin, punching through muscle and bone.

She screamed, despite all of her efforts to prevent it. She felt vulnerable as her mouth opened, unable to clamp down against the pain. His cock blurred just as fast, slamming forward to ram into her mouth. She screamed out as she felt it forcing its way, stretching her jaw further and further part. Her muscles screamed out in agony, trying to resist the dead intruder. Her teeth dug into his head, but the skin was too strong, she felt her teeth cracking from the force as he continued to bear down on her.

Irith wanted to scream, wanted to pull away, but the zombie's muscles flexed powerfully, dragged her ever closer with every passing second. The muscles of her jaw began tear and she screamed out, the last sound she would be able to make before a large crack noise punched through her senses. She felt her jaw popping and the muscles tearing wetly. Then the only thing she could feel was the cock plunging into her, slamming into the back of her throat and completely the horrible destruction of her lower jaw. Her scream choked off suddenly as the ghost's glans gagged her, swelling up to choke off any air. The eyes rolled up in the back of her head, but not before she saw who her rapist was.

It was Teri, the man who her father always wanted to marry, but she despised. The man she scored was now destroying her throat even as he forced his cock down into her throat. She felt it tearing around it, molding around the thick, swollen length. She feared it would burst open her throat, but somehow her flesh managed to keep the raping cock in check. He continued to force it down, the head squeezing into the tight confines of her throat. With a grunt, he jammed it forward, cracking something inside her as another half-foot buried inside. She felt her vocal cords being crushed and torn as it swelled inside her. To her horror, she felt the member tearing open the entrance to her lungs and she started to cry. Her lips, so tightly stretched around his girth, tore even more as hot blood dripped down on her breasts.

Teri finally buried his entire length into her, suffocating her even as she felt her body tearing around it. She only felt a burning pain growing in her lungs. She tried to breath, but nothing would escape the horrible rod that filled her.

To her horror, he kept it inside her, neither thrusting or moving. Black spots began to form in her eyes. Teri began to laugh, a hard cruel gasping that shook his body. She looked up at him, trying to plead with her eyes, but there was no mercy in those ghostly eyes.

The searing in her lungs redoubled as she felt her body beginning to shake. She could see the reflection of her face in Teri's glassy eyes, slowly turning blue, then purple even as the world grew fuzzy.

Then, he came.

His cock swelled up, ripping open her throat as he started to pump his cold, dead seed into her lungs. She spasmed, unable to cough it out with the thick member choking her. He continued to laugh as she felt every jet with terrible clarity, drowning her on his cock. Fear of death drove her to desperation and she pounding her fists against his chest, ignoring the horrible grating of bones.

And he refusing to release her.

The world grew black, creeping in from the edges. A rushing noise deafened her and even the pain of her broken hands disappeared under the cusp of death. From the very edge of her hearing, she heard whispers. Terrible whispers that promised something she couldn't understand.

“That's enough.”

Rapist's words broke through her dying thoughts. Teri squeezed her skull painfully, then ripped out his cock in a shower of blood, saliva, and cum. For a long, lucid moment, she realized that her lungs refused to work, even with the horrible member no longer choking her. More tears splashed down her cheeks as she begged her body to respond.

Then, she spasmed, doubling over from the pain. Her lungs jerked into life, coughing up a shower of cum and blood. It poured out of her mouth, soaking the ground and her body. She coughed violently, her body spasming. Her hands were planted into the ground, the pain of her ruined hands lost with the bliss of sweet, fetid air.

More blood and cum poured out of her mouth until she finally could breath again. She lifted her head, the gore dripping from her chin as she looked up at Rapist with bitter pain of what she just experienced. He watched her with curiosity, then he stepped forward.

She could imagine that he would rape her next, her mouth gaping open with her need to breath, but the Abyssal just walked around her, circling her.

“And what are you?”

Even if she could speak, she couldn't answer him. She drew in one wheezing breath after the other, barely able to keep track of the circling Abyssal. Her face sunk down until she was mere inches from the disgusting ground. She tried to whimper, but no noise came out of her throat. Instead, it was just a broken whisper of noise, tearing at her throat as she exhaled.

Rapist stopped behind her, his hoarse whisper forcing her to listen.

“What are you?”

His knees slammed into the ground behind her, one on each side of her legs. She already knew what would happen next but there were more tears. His own swollen cock pressed up against her pussy. With one hard, brutal thrust, he drove up into her, his twisted and mutated cock forcing its way into her body. She felt every ridge and bump of his body, felt it pumping into her until his head crashed against her cervix. Her body shivered violently and her face splashed against the ground. Irith tasted blood and gore on her mouth, but the icy-cold soulsteel gauntlets grabbed her hips and yanked her back. Her mouth opened in silent pain as he forced his cock even deeper into her pussy. A burning gasp escaped out of her throat. Rapist ignored her as he drove into her, pumping her hard and fast. After days of being raped on his member, her body surprised her by feeling a tiny hint of pleasure as his bumps and twisted length slid in and out, lubricated by her juices and the rain coating her.

Rapist's right hand released her hips, balancing her body on his twisted shaft. His hand snapped forward, grabbing her hair and yanking her head back. He spoke in a brutal whisper, still driving his cock into her body.

“What are you!?”

Her open mouth gaping obscenely as he drove into her, releasing his other hand to grab her hair, using them as reins to pump his cock as powerfully as he could into her. His muscles swelled as black blood welled up from a disk on his forehead. An angry red glow flowed around him with every thrust of his hips. She winced at the pain of him driving his entire length into her, tearing into her cock. She could swear she felt her cervix tearing underneath the ceaseless pounding.

He yelled out as he slammed into her, his cock exploding inside her and soaking her insides with his hot, burning cum. His gauntlets tore her hair as he held himself into her, pumping his seed directly into her womb.

His carrion breath was hot against her ears as he pulled her closer to him.

“You are nothing. Nothing. Not even a life worth saving. You are nothing but a vessel for my seed.”

Irith nodded the best as she could, fighting back at the pain both inside and out of her body. She felt battered by her agonies and retreated into the dead part of her heart, the one inured against the endless death and destruction. He held her for a long moment, then released her to slump down into the mud.

“You understand. You are nothing but my slave, my vessel.”

He pulled out of her. She felt his cum oozing out of her gaping lips and she slumped down. Coughing, she looked up to see it was night again. The second night of her torment. It was the second night of Calibration and already she experience more pain than she could comprehend.

Rapist came around her, naked. His cock dripped with her juices. She was thankful that none of them were blood, even as a strange and uncomfortable tingling filled her depths. She watched him with fear masked with dead eyes.

There were no more tears left, only pain.

He stopped in front of her and she watched a single droplet fall from the tip of his member, splashing down in the rank mud.

“The second lesson is simple. Slaves are silent.”

He chuckled dryly, “I suspect at this point, you'll learn this lesson simply.”

Kneeling down in front of her, he yanked up her head with her hair.

“So, we will move to the third session.”

He pulled her body closer, dragging her through the mud as her legs trailed behind her. His hot, carrion breath choked her as he drew her within inches of his face.

“A slave's body is her master's.”

He grinned humorlessly.

“It doesn't matter what I want, it doesn't matter what I do, there is nothing,” he repeated himself, “nothing that you can do to stop me. You have no will if I don't give it to you.”

He dropped her and she had to catch herself with her elbows to prevent herself from dropping back into the mud. The horrid taste already choked her but no sound came from her ruined throat.

He chuckled, “Time to learn that lesson.”

He stood up and backed away. She didn't understand, not until she felt claws grabbing her hips. Her eyes opened wide as a long, burning gasp escaped her throat. She prepared herself for being raped, but never in her thoughts did she consider what the zombie did. Instead of pressing his thick, swollen head up against her gaping pussy lips, he pressed it against the crack of her ass, sliding down to catch on her still virginal opening. She reflexively clenched down on her suddenly vulnerable anus, knowing beyond a doubt that she was about to experience yet another new pain in her short, tormented life.

Penetration came hard and violent, the necromantic hardness plunging into her tight, clenching opening. Claws dug into her hips for leverage, forcing the slimy shaft deep into her body. She tried to scream out, but only a long wail of gasping pain ripped out of her destroyed throat. The driving force tore open her anus, destroying the ring of the muscle as the hard shaft plunged deep. Beyond the sharp nova of agony, the feeling of her rectum being stuffed with slick cool cock The tiny opening tore open, an explosion of burning pain wracking her body.

Shocked by the intensity, Irith was barely aware as the manifested ghost began to drive in and out of her body with hard, powerful strokes. Her abused opening, felt wet with her own blood as he jammed it in, stuffing her bowels with every powerful thrust.

Unable to shriek out, Irith concentrated on the quiet place in her heart, the place where she strive to no longer feel the pain. She slipped in as the first ghost came inside her, flooding her screaming insides with his seed before yanking out. She shuddered as the second took his place, pumping hard into her. Despite her eyes being open, she ceased to see anything as the ghosts began to take her. The pain faded away as she buried her thoughts and her very spirit into the dead place of her heart. Concentrating on feeling nothing, she felt she could survive the pain of being anally violated.

It worked, at least to a small amount. Her pain faded as she concentrated but it also diminished as her rectum grew accustomed to the thick, swollen intruders. The ripping, tearing thrusts gave way to slick pounding, the manifested ghost's cum lubricating her entrance. As morning passed, she felt her body shuddering with the first hints of pleasure. Gasping with relief, she actually started to enjoy the continual thrusting as they drove into her. A hint of an orgasm began to rise up, but it hovered right on the edge of her crest, her body's agonies fighting with the strange, forbidden pleasure.

Hours passed. Endless hours of being thrust into and grabbed, driven and pounded. Even the claws against her hips and buttocks faded between her dead heart and the growing pleasure inside her. Her bowels felt like a sleeve for the tireless lusts of the ghosts. The very thought of her growing to enjoy it choked her. The idea of enjoying her rape was too much for her and she closed her eyes tightly.

When night was finally crashing down on the ranch, Rapist of Seventeen spoke up. His hoarse voice scraped against her senses, barely audible over the wet slurping noises as a ghost thrust into her, filing her to capacity with his swollen sausage before yanking out. She shuddered from the pleasures that rose and conflicted with the burning ring of her entrance and the other horrific injuries that the Abyssal inflicted on her.

“Seems like you actually are enjoying this lesson, girl.”

He didn't sound amused. Her eyes cracked open, her body jerking back and forth. She was pressed down against the mud, her face turned to the side and her breasts crushed against the blood-soaked soil. Her hips were held up by claws, to facilitate their hard, tireless thrusting that filled her and left her. Her eyes started to close, but the ground shuddered as the Rapist knelt down next to her. They snapped open, fear already starting to pool inside her as she looked up at the black eyes.

“Can you speak?”

Her mouth worked silently, her destroyed throat only gasping out air. He nodded, then smiled.

“This is my body, girl. Everything that happens to you, everything that happens to your body, it is because I want it to. Do you understand.”

Shuddering from her rapist, Irith nodded in the mud, shoving the coppery earth with her movement. Rapist looked over again and she nodded her head more violently.

A ghost of a frown crossed his face, a storm of emotions that left her already pulling into the dead of her heart. He sighed.

“I don't think you really understand.”

His frown deepened. He reached out and pressed his naked, cool hand against her face. Muscles rippled as she felt him pressing down, trying to crush her. Her face drove into the mud, pinning her down for the ghost behind her to rape her even more powerfully.

“Don't bother trying to give me some empty answer, girl. You can't possibly understand. I've watched you, this is a pleasure for you.”

Irith wanted to shake her head, but he just ground her head further into the mud. Blood and dirt flooded her mouth, reminding her of the pain growing inside it.

“We will revisit this lesson, but to teach you about lying to me…”

His voice trailed off. To her surprise, he released her and let her gasp for breath. She levered herself up with her elbows until only her nipples were dipping into the piss-warm mud. Crouching in front of her, about a meter away, was Teri. The ghost watched her with burning eyes, a dull reddish glow flaring beneath the rotted skin. One hand wrapped around his incredibly large cock, stroking it as a long dribble of undead precum splattered into the ground.

“He is very angry, you know. The type of anger that would have created a ghost here, even without my,” he chuckled, “efforts. His rage is so sweet and you, girl, is the sole focus of his hatred.”

He grinned. Teri looked at her and hissed, slobber and old blood dripping from his fangs onto his swollen shaft. Rapist said nothing for a moment, then turned back to her.

“We will get back to this lesson, girl, but I think I'm going to give you to Teri.”

The ghost perked up and Irith felt a terrible fear shaking through her. The ghost rose up to his feet, chuckling with a wet hissing noise. He purposely started to walk around her as her current rapist yanked out and dropped her. Her hamstrung legs collapsed and she crumbled, splattering against the ground. She was helpless, barely able to lift her head to watch as the angry ghost circled around her.

Anticipation spiked fear in her heart as she felt him reaching down, grabbing her hips. His long bloody claws dug into her hips, piercing flesh as they gripped tightly against her hip bones. If she could scream, she would have. Instead, she just shuddering in revulsion as he lifted her hip, her legs dangling in the mud and her body folding almost in half. She could feel cum oozing out of her ruined ass, dribbling down her thighs as she tried to gasp for breath. He stood up straight, resting the massive log of his cock against the crack of her ass. She felt hot splatters against her back, each one sending a shock of sensation before the warm rain drove it away.

With terrible clarity, she felt him holding her tightly, lifting her up even as his hips drew back. The thick swollen rod drew back, scraping against the base of her spine. His swollen head felt huge as it rolled over her spine, tracing a line that would end with her ultimate violation. She shook with the anticipation, knowing that the pain would start. The head drew back even further, dropping into the crack of her ass. Her elbows dug into the mud, trying to brace herself as the powerful strength of the ghost held her out. His head dropped to the gaping orifice, dwarfing it despite almost an entire day of rape.

Teri's grating growl formed words.

“This… hurt.”

He entered her. Not with the hard, brutal thrust of someone violating, but with a pressure that forced his head into the ring of her ass and continued to build up pressure. It rose steadily, forcing her anal ring apart and renewing the pain she felt from before. He didn't relax at all. He continued to build up more and more pressure, forcing his cock into her body. She tried to resist, her body clenching against the unwanted intruder, but he was too strong. With a wet tearing noise, she felt her body giving way from his pressure. The swollen head lodged itself deeper, stretching out her rectum as it laid a burning length inside her. He was huge, a log rammed up into her ass. She felt her body stretching, desperately trying to constrain the burning rod as it violated her.

Teri chuckled wetly, his claws scraping against her bones as he drew her back. She tried to force him out, using muscles that would never be strong enough. He just laughed louder, tearing further into her. She felt every ridge of his swollen member as it forced deeper into her, pushing up against the ring that led deeper into her body.

She screamed out as he forced his way through that, barreling even deeper as her organs twisted violently in fear and pain. As his swollen, icy length plunged deeper, she felt some angle of her body resisting. The pressure and pain built, spiking for a brief moment of terrible clarity, then something tore inside her. Organs twisted out of place, rolling inside her stomach as it jumped violently. His cock continue to force deeper into her, the pressure building but it continued to slide in deep, strong, and powerful.

Letting out a sob, she tried to prepare herself for the pain. No tears came, just the awareness of pain. Her organs molded around his cock and she could feel parts of it tearing from the immense girth that stuffed inside her. Gasping for breath, she winced as he jammed in the last few inches, burying his entire length inside her. A searing agony filled her. He pulled back violently, yanking his cock out of her gaping channel. She felt empty, a void of her body before he filled it again, stuffing her full of hate, pain, and cock. As he buried himself in her, his huge balls slapped against her pussy, crushing them for a second before he drew back for a second blow.

Teri pounded into her like a necromantic machine. One stroke after the other, driving into her with full, merciless strokes. She felt her body tearing and molding around him, pain and pleasure growing in a terrible symphony inside her body. His claws parted skin, sending a river of blood down her legs as he bruised and cut her insides, tore her apart with each tireless stroke. She struggled to return her thoughts to her dead place. Every powerful thrust drove her further way, confusing her with pleasure and pain that refused to stop or even slow.

“Trying to come, girl?”

The Rapist crouched down next to her, his naked and mutated cock hanging slow. She looked up, her body flopping on Teri's rod. The Rapist had a mocking expression on his face.

“You can't, can you? The pleasure keeps rising, but the pain chains it.”

She said nothing, staring at him even as she tried to deaden her thoughts and senses. He laughed at her, a cold humorless sound that sounded muted from the pouring rain. He looked up at Teri.

“Come.”

The response with remarkable. Teri started to slam into her, pounding harder and faster. He almost cracked her pelvis as he tore his cock deep into her rectum, punching into her bowels with hard, brutal strokes. She tried to scream again, but her throat refused to make any noise. The terrible feelings of her body were nothing compared to the gurgling wails that finally did escape, muffled by the mud below her.

Teri groaned loudly as he drove up into her, grinding bones as he forced his cock as far as it would go inside her. She felt his hardness impaling her so far that she struggled to breath. He came hard inside her. An icy explosion deep inside her. The flooding grew inside her, and she shuddered with the knowledge of it.

But, he did not pull out. Rapist grunted with another gesture. Strong claws ripped out of her hips with a shower of blood. She winced as her body's weight sunk down on the cock, supporting her on the hardness. Then claws wrapped around her neck, lifting her up and drawing her back. She sunk further down on the shaft, impaled as it shoved up against her diaphragm. Her mouth opened in silent agony. Teri dropped suddenly to her knees. She slid up his shaft slightly before gravity caught her, then she slammed down at the rod impaled her even deeper, tearing into her organs. She could feel the cold liquid of his cum mixing with the hot copper of her blood, sealed up with the immense log that plugged her. Her legs fell on each side of Teri's, her body centering on his pole. He yanked her back, pulling her until her back pressed tightly against his chest.

Irith struggled with the sudden explosion of pain when Rapist stepped up in front of her

“Time for your next lesson, sow.”

Reaching down, he grabbed both of her breasts. Her soft womanly mounds overflowed his hands, her nipples somehow hard in the rain and pleasure and pain. He ground the hard tips into his palms as he caressed them, tracing the various cuts and scrapes and bruises with his fingertips.

“These are the only thing I like about woman.”

He rotated his wrists, cupping her breasts and pushing them up. She stared at him, waiting for the cruelty and destruction. The pole in her ass jerked slightly and she shivered. Rapist's eyes caught hers and she couldn't tear her gaze away. Pleasurable sensations slid along her breasts and she frowned with the sensations. He grinned at her.

“Feels good, doesn't it?”

She wanted to scream out now, but she barely nodded. He grinned even wider, leaning forward. She felt the touch his thumbs move to caress her erect nipples, sparkling with tiny bolts of pleasure she wanted to deny.

Still stroking, he spoke deeply.

“But, the idea of a son of mine sucking on these teats sickens me.”

Everything ground to a halt as terror exploded in her stomach. Her organs twisted and clenched around Teri's cock and he groaned in pleasure. She tried to crawl away, shaking her head in denial. He stepped forward, crushing her breasts against his chest.

“Mother's milk is the milk of the weak. It is the poison of the sickly, and no son of mine…”

His fingers pressed hard against her nipples, pushing them into the soft swells of her breasts. She trembled, her bottom lip shaking. Rapist gave her a long hard stare before stepping back once again.

Holding up his hand, she watched as black motes of energy formed in his hand, calcifying into the terrible cutting weapon of his. A few drops of black blood oozed out of his forehead as he held it above her left breast, the terrible cutting blade just resting against the skin. Irith continued to shake her head, trying to plead with her eyes.

Rapist glared at her, “Who's body is this?”

Her lips continued to tremble and she tried to pull away from him, her eyes widening with the sight of the cutting blade poised to do one thing. The idea of it cutting deep was too much and another single tear formed in her eyes.

Rapist grabbed her right nipple with his fingers, squeezing them painfully. Her mouth opened in the brief pain; it was nothing compare to the broken hands, hamstrung legs, or even the choking violation that left her speechless. His blade flashed and she shuddered.

When no pain exploded, she looked down with fear and trepidation. At the sight of her breast, with only a red smear where her nipple was, she began to shake violently. Irith's body clenched in fear as the pain finally exploded. She gasped, the only noise her broken through would make, as she arched her back in pain and agony. Teri grabbed her tightly around the neck, pinning her as she suffered through the first wave of terrible pain.

At the touch of Rapist's fingers against her other nipple, drawing out the pert tip, she snapped her head back, staring at him directly with fear. Her head slowly shook back and forth. Rapist's expression darkened.

“I don't think you understand the question.”

He spoke louder, a deep and terrifying sound, “Who's body is this?”

With a start, she realized what he was asking. It took all the willpower she had to force herself from shaking her head. With a heavy heart, she dropped her eyes, almost bowing to the dark man who held her. He chuckled dryly.

“The lesson hasn't sunk it yet, has it?”

Feeling broken, Irith shook her head. Rapist twisted the nipple in his hand, pain and pleasure mixing as he alternated between a hard pinch and a soft caress. She watched as the dusty pink tip swelled in his finger, aching for something she couldn't describe or even comprehend.

Rapist said nothing for a moment. He just played with her breast and nipples. Then he spoke, almost as a side note, but his words sent a shiver down her spine.

“And if I thought I should cut off your other nipple, would you ask for it?”

Terrified, she clamped down on the automatic reaction of shaking her head. Her organs twisted around Teri's cock and he drove up into her, impaling her powerfully as she fought against every thing her body resisted. A tear in her eye, she hesitated before nodding. It was just a whisper of a movement. Rapist pinched her nipple hard.

“Then I think I will.”

She closed her eyes tightly as he brought the blade up to the tip. He teased the blade against it, sending shivers of pain through her nerves. Then, he released it. Surprised, she opened her eyes in time to see him cut a cross into her nipple, slicing it into quarters. The very tip of the blade cut deep, blood welling out of the cut.

Biting her tongue, she prepared for the pain. Curling up her thoughts, she braced her mind for it, retreating into the dark place of her soul as it slammed into her. Her unseeing eyes never left the sight of her two ruined nipples, but her mind fled to a world of misty black. Her senses gradually returned as she blinked, every inch of her body in pain, but the burning agony focused on her ass, her nipples, her throat, and her ankles. She shuddered with it.

Rapist sighed, “But, bodies heal. You… mortals always heal. It may be days, months, or even years, but soon you'll be poisoning my sons.”

He stepped back, his voice hardening.

“We can't have that.”

Irith looked at him in confusion. He scoffed and turned around. Snapping his fingers, he walked away. His scarred body frightened her, but the sight of a zombie coming up to her scared her more. She watched it with fear pooling in her stomach and twisting her guts. Teri groaned in pleasure as the zombie stepped forward, his cock bobbing with each movement. He stopped right in front of her as Teri adjusted his position. She watched as her right nipple was brought right to the level of his dripping length.

Realization slammed into her with the force of a charging yeddim. She looked at Rapist in fear. He ignored her and she drew her attention back as the pair of claws reached down to grab her right breast, squeezing them painfully. Blood oozed out of her ruined nipple as he brought the very tip of his bulbous against the bloody wound.

The few seconds it took for him to lodge the tip into the wound. Then he grabbed her breast with both hands and began to push into it. She screamed, or tried to scream. Blood flecked her lips as she felt him tearing into the soft mound. Tears speckled her eyelids as he rammed into her, trying to use her breast as a tunnel for his violating cock. The pain grew and redoubled, tearing into her thoughts even as his shaft tore into her breast meat. Sliding back, he plunged it forward again, tearing slightly deeper. She tried to scream again, her body spasming in terror and pain. At the very edge of her senses, she felt Teri coming once again inside her, orgasming from the pain that filled her. She could barely handle the pain as the zombie plunged in and out, coating his cock in burning hot blood.

Her blood.

Soon, he was stroking longer into her body, blood coating his shaft. With each thrust, he managed to force a tiny bit more into her. He drove deep and hard and she felt the horrible sensation of him tearing through the fatty tissue of her body, his cock head ripping a new orifice. She tried to sob but no more tears came. He grunted as the ghost sheathed his entire length into her breast, his cock head bumping against her ribs. The agony was too much as she passed out.

Rapist's slap slammed into her and she woke up screaming blood. The zombie still raped her breast, tearing her apart as he drove in with bloody thrusts. Teri squeezed around her neck, the points of his talons digging into the delicate skin of her throat. Rapist roared at her.

“You will not sleep this off!”

He stepped back and snapped his finger. A second zombie came up, moving into position of her other breast. She gasped with pain and agony, watching her right breast swelling every time the zombie buried his cock into it. It shrunk as he pulled out, adding to the agony.

The second zombie aimed his cock against her quartered nipple and thrust hard, catching on the edge of the nipple and slipping out. He repositioned and tried again, and again, and again. Endless strokes later, he managed to tear himself a new hole and pumped into her left breast with the same strength as the first. She screamed out, blood oozing out of her lips and her ruined breasts. Claws dug into her breasts as they used them for balance, driving in and out with machine-like power.

The pain continued to rise up, swamping her senses until she started to drown in the agony. Her mouth opened in mute screaming, blood and drool oozing out of the corners of her mouth. She shuddered violently, straining with all her mind to withdraw her thoughts. She managed to flee them until the pain of her violation was only a shadow of the pain. It remained there, a bright star of exquisite pain, but she could shut off the rest.

One zombie finished and a third took its place, driving up into her just as they did for the two days before. She already knew her fate and braced herself against the pain. Every inch of her skin felt like it was on fire, her organs twisting around Teri's cock as the ghosts raped her breasts until they bleed freely.

Irith spent the day struggling to kill her senses, losing herself in the black mist that grew inside her. Whispers of something terrible echoed in the back of her head, the further she fled from the pain, the more they called out to her. They frightened her, but the violation was far worse than mere whispers.

She didn't know how she knew, but the coming of the midnight drew her out of her void. Shuddering against the pain, she let her senses reawaken. Her breasts were on fire, bruised and black. Long cuts covered every square inch, except where the two bloody holes bore a torn opening clear to the base of her most treasured assets. She sobbed, but no tears came out.

Rapist stood in front of her, still naked. He watched her with disgust in his eyes.

“You are nothing, sow. Nothing but meat and a vessel for my son. If it wasn't for the chance of you carrying my child, I would have long since fed you to the ghosts that you betrayed.”

She shuddered in pain, watching him. He grinned, looking back.

“Oh, the hate and anger and suffering. I bet all those emotions are brewing in those useless eyes of yours.”

With a start, she realized she did hate Rapist, but there was nothing she could do. Her legs were hamstrung, her body impaled on a ghost cock that reached almost up to her lungs, and she couldn't even flex her hands. Everything hurt. From her ruined breasts, she felt a dripping of blood splashing down on her stomach.

His Sky-Cutter appeared in his hand.

“On more day, bitch. One more lesson and then I'm done.”

She said nothing, watching him. Fear had faded inside her, too many hours fleeing her senses had dulled them. The constant torture was too much and she found it easier just not to feel.

Rapist snapped his fingers. Teri grabbed her breasts, squeezing them painfully as he lifted up slightly. It was only about a foot, but she settled heavily on the pole in her ass. It felt different, the pain barely there, only the feeling of being “full” that was unlike anything else she ever felt. For a moment, she could imagine she belonged there, but then Rapist moved forward.

His blade sparkled in the light as he hefted it.

“On more thing. Do you own your body.”

Listlessly, Irith shook her head.

“Good, good. Do I own your body?”

A nod.

“Do I own your soul?”

She hesitated, but nodded.

“Do you want me to cut your throat?”

Irith looked up. The sweet call of the end of everything drew to her and she nodded, closing her eyes tightly closed. Rapist just chuckled.

“What are you for?”

When she didn't answer, he repeated himself and pressed the tip of his blade against her stomach. She jumped, her body squeezing around the rod inside her, but didn't open her eyes.

Her mouth worked silently, her vocal cords refusing to work. He made no sign if he could hear her response, but she knew she said it.

“I am your vessel… master.”

He cupped her chin, a smile on his lips.

“Yes, yes, you are. You are nothing but someone to carry my son into the world. You will not poison him with your milk nor with your compassion. You will bring him wild and angry into the world, until your blood spills against his throat.”

Her lips worked silently, “Yes, master.”

He drew his eyes down and Irith followed. She focused on the sword tip as it traced lines along her taut stomach, dimpling the skin. She wanted to shudder in pain, but the dullness filled her.

She watched as he spiraled around her belly button, working closer and closer until he pressed the very tip into the dimple. Sharp, the very tip pressed against the wrinkle of skin inside.

Rapist's hoarse voice rose up.

“Do you know what I'm going to do?”

Irith could already picture it in her mind. He was going to have the zombies rape her, one last time. This time, in a place she didn't know if she could survive. The idea of being gutted by cock and sword terrified her, but she just listlessly nodded.

“And you can't stop me.”

It was a statement, not a question. Irith tried so hard to feel the pain, begging for the tears, but they refused to come. Instead, an inky darkness spread out over her thoughts, dulling her senses.

He released his weapon. It shimmered as it fell, disappearing into Elsewhere before hitting the ground. He cupped her chin, looking into her dull eyes.

“Now, you understand.”

Responding to some silent command, Teri released her breasts. His claws trailed down her sides to cup her inner thighs. With powerful strength, he pulled her up off his cock. Irith's mouth opened in shock as she felt the hardened member slipping out in a flood of cum and blood. The angry ghost dropped her on the ground and she crumbled violently, slapping her face against the soaked mud. She heard Teri step back and twisted her body to watch him. He glared at her, hissing loudly as he moved. He stopped when he was ten paces from her body.

Rapist gestured and they spread out, going into the houses and barns. She watched them, then jumped at the first sight of flames inside the buildings. Twisting her body again, she sloshed in the mud to look up at Rapist. He said nothing, his eyes watching the ghosts as they set fire to every building on the ranch. Soon, the heat flashed against her naked body, baking the mud. She wanted to cry, wanted to whimper, but nothing was left.

She was dead inside.

Rapist barked out a few words of necromantic power. As one, the ghosts raised their heads up to the sky and howled, angry and terrible, as the animating energies that kept them manifested for days of rape and torment faded. They faded also, sinking into the ground in a cloud of rotted flesh and broken memories.

The rain sputtered to a halt as the last of the ghosts faded, leaving only Irith and Rapist on the burning remains of her ranch. Rapist turned back on her, looking down at her crumpled body with cold, torturous amusement.

“I will leave soon myself, but I have time for one more thing. What should it be?”

Irith looked up, her mind spinning with fear and terror and also anticipation. Shivering, she trusted her instincts and twisted her body until she was on her back. Turning around, she maneuvered herself into position. Bracing herself against moving her body, she forced her broken hands between her legs and spread the useless limbs apart, exposing the pink slash of her pussy for him.

He smiled and she shivered with the pleasure of knowing she chose rightly. When he knelt down between her legs, grabbing her hands and crushing them against her inner thighs, she jumped from the pain. Retreating into herself, she forced her body to push away the pain of grinding bones and concentrated on the feeling of his horrible, mutated cock driving into her body. Each twisted bulge ripped into her, driving into her body and she only felt pleasure coursing through her. The pain of being raped had faded with the days of healing and torture. Compared to everything else, there was only pleasure as he buried his length into her. Her pussy clenched around his length, molding to every inch and every niche. She shuddered, her mouth opening in silence as a crest of pleasure rose up.

For the first time since Calibration started, Irith orgasmed. It came hard and fast, an explosion of black across her vision and a dark star of ecstasy that burned through her veins. Her entire body spasmed tightly, squeezing his member as if it wanted to snap it in half. He grunted with surprise, and drove hard into her, his caste mark bleeding as he poured dark essence into forcing his way into her orgasming body.

Rapist took her, driving in and out with his twisted cock. She continued to orgasm, drowning in the dark star of pleasure as he pumped into her for hours, taking his sweet time and enjoying every inch of her pleasure. When he finally came inside her, she sobbed with relief and joy, knowing that soon it was over. He shuddered and came again, soaking her insides and splashing them directly into the entrance of her womb. After a few short strokes, he drew out. she felt the cum oozing out of her slit and slumped down to the ground.

He remained between her legs, kneeling and grinning.

“Now, you truly are a slave.”

Irith nodded mutely. Rapist rocked back and stood up.

“Stay there.”

He walked away. Minutes later, he came back with something in his hand. She watched, still on her back in the cooling mud, watching but not responding. She saw that he had a curved needle in his hand and a long black thread. Her imagination already told her what would happen next, so she wasn't surprised when he knelt back down between her legs.

“So you don't forget me.”

With one hand, he grabbed the folds of her labia, pinching them together. His fingers were slick with cum, but he easily held them tight as he brought the needle to them. Irith retreated into the place in her heart as he began to sew her labia together. She could feel the needles punching through the flesh, the tight line of stitched that worked their way from her perineum up toward her clitoris. She even felt as the needle pierced the hood, then directly into the very nub of her pleasure with only a brief shudder, the actual pain pushed back from the inky void of her retreat. She let her senses returned when he stood up again.

“You will have my child, Irith. And let no other man go between those legs, not if you wish to avoid my wrath.”

And then he was gone.

She blinked. Closing her eyes tightly, she opened them again. Her eyes flickered to the left and right, trying to catch sight of the disappeared Exalted. Twisting in the mud, she looked around but failed to find his shadowed form. Even the small pile of soulsteel armor had disappeared. Her eyes rolled up to see the first hint of morning gracing the horizon. The fourth day of Calibration. Her lips trembling, she closed her eyes and let the exhaustion wash away the pain as darkness took her.

It was morning when she woke up again. For a moment, she thought she just closed her eyes, but the tiny details told her otherwise. The inferno of the ranch buildings were gone and in their place was charred wood and crumbling stone. The bright sun above her pierced the thin layer of clouds over the sky. In the distance, over the popping of wood, the songs of birds drifted across the sky. She groaned. She started to move, then the thousand aches and pains brought up her terrible ordeal. Shuddering, she propped herself up on her elbows, taking her weight. Her breasts, her beautiful breasts, hung down from her chest, swollen and bruised. Dried blood crusted along the opening, but she could feel the empty, violated holes that were bored into her body.

No tears came.

Irith stared at the destroyed buildings and the circle of blood and black. As the sadness started to rise up, she automatically retreated back, snuffing her emotions to contemplate her situation. Her shattered hands shook with pain and her legs spasmed. They faded after a few moments, but she knew they would return in moments. She closed her eyes, picturing the farm. She was sixty miles from the nearest farm, two days by foot when she was in the full of health. She would never make it with legs that refused to move and broken hands. She shook her head, her lips working silently as she tried to swear.

Swearing did nothing to help. She strained to find some shelter, at least until she could recover enough to make the trip. There was only a thin chance, but one look at the devastated buildings gave her no hope for food or shelter.

She remembered a small shrine near the edge of the family ranch. Her father used it to sacrifice to the various family gods, the ones who ensure a good harvest and the ones for healthy animals. During Calibration, they would have a small ceremony for the grandfathers and grandmothers. It was small, barely a few yards across, but it had a door that shut. As a child, she used to pick berries from there, which may be enough to survive. But, it was a half-hour walk in the best of her health. Her chances of survival were growing thinner, but at least she had hope.

Giving one more look at her ancestral home, Irith started to crawl toward the shrine. She felt her body scraping against the hard soil and she felt the pain already rising. Her ruined breasts ground against the sharp edges of earth, but she endured the pain. Behind her, her legs trailed limply across the ground, following the curves of her family grounds.

It took her hours to drag herself across the ground. Behind her, she saw a trail of blood marking her path as old wounds reopened and fresh ones tore open. When the pain grew too much, she retreated into her mind, letting the inky darkness mask the worse of the growing agony.

The mid-day sun beat down on her naked back, burning her as she forced her way over the ruts and furrows of the earth. Her entire body was shaking violently with every bump, even a few inches tall, feeling like it was a mountain to climb. Her elbows were cracked and bleeding. Finally, she had to stop. The sun cooked her body, the smells of dry soil mixing in with coppery blood and the sweat of a broken women.

She bowed her head, her breath coming in soft pants. Balancing her stomach on the ridge, she could let her breasts heave with the effort to gather her breath. A droplet of sweat dripped off her nose, followed by another and another. She groaned, wondering if she could make it.

Her eyes caught a glint of silver. She blinked against the salty dripping into her eyes and stared at them. Curiosity rose and she crawled a few feet to peer at it.

It was her coins, the silver coins that she put into her boots so long ago. Memories of that first night came rushing back and she had to retreat into her dead place to prevent her from drowning in a sudden bout of sorrow. She gathered up the coins, but then let them slip out of her fingers as she looked around. Her clothes that she desperately stripped out of were not there. Not even a thread of fabric. She could see the heavy boots of Rapist crushing the ground and the blood that clotted the ground. Unable to carry the coins, she left them as she found renewed strength to drag herself to the shrine.

Hours later, night came back for the final night of Calibration. She screamed out mutely as she finally dragged herself along the field and into the small copse of trees that surrounded her shrine. Fresh blood marked her trail and she could imagine the various creatures of Creation following it. It took her enough half hour to reach the shrine.

It was just as she remembered it. Sun-bleached wood that experienced years of weathering. A few fresh planks to replace ones that rotted from the snow and rain. The door was slightly cracked open, the latch never quite working as well as it used to. Whispering a prayer of thanks, she dragged her half-dead body to the shrine and pried it open with her elbow.

Inside, the smell of old blood and earth welcomed her. It was different than the rest of her torture, this was the blood of sacrifice and history. She smiled at the comfort of it, the memories that didn't destroy her. Dragging herself into the shrine, she managed to close the door behind her. Panting from the effort, she crawled over to the small stone table and leaned against it, her back pressed against the cool granite.

Her head bobbed and she felt the hours of exhausting taking their tool on her body. She twisted her body into position, her hamstrung legs splayed out in front of her, her breasts dripping a trickle of blood down her stomach and her neck just reaching the edge.

Speaking in silence, she began to pray. Her blood-flecked lips worked without noise, her throat no longer able to make even a whisper of noise. Only the soft inhalations and exhalations of her lungs, rattled with coughing, interrupted her silence. Her body shook as she went through every prayer and supplication she could think of. When she finished, she started again, begging for any god to listen to her in her time of need.

No answer came.

She continued to pray until her memories failed her and she lapsed into silence. Darkness flooded the shrine and she felt a pang of fear. She had never been in the shrine in the dark. In the utter darkness, a faint light of moss and fox light brightened up the utter darkness, giving just a shape to the shrine. She looked around, watching as the night passed deeper and deeper into a moonless darkness and the light of the tiny lichen brightened.

It was beautiful, in its own little way.

She looked down in the dim light and saw a darkness pooling around her. Shaking, she brushed her wrist against it and lifted it, watching the cooling blood dripping down her arm. It was hers and she realized why she felt so weak and tired. The prayers died at her lips. Her family's gods had abandoned her and she felt a deep and profound sorrow at that.

Closing her eyes, she slumped back against the shrine. On top, a small bowl used to collect blood of sacrifices rocked back and forth. Next to it, a knife shuddered but didn't move. She rapped her head back against the shrine until the bowl finally rolled off the shrine and cracked on the ground next to her.

She watched as dust rose up from the bowl, lit by the tiny foxfire of her world. She levered up her wrist again, holding it over the bowl as droplets of blood splashed down. A wave of weakness slammed into her and her arm dropped for a moment. She forced herself to lift it, morbidly curios of watching her own blood dripping to the ground.

The blood slowed and she wanted to curl up and sleep. She found it, retreating her thoughts as she watched the individual droplets fall down in slow, measured…

One droplet froze in mid-air.

It took her a moment to realize it had frozen in air. Frowning, she stared at it, her body barely moving. She pulled back her arm, feeling as if she was moving through sludge. A smear of red remained in the air as the blood came off, held in place. Her heart pounded sluggishly, barely moving along with the rest of her body. Her eyes drifted down to focus on a puff of dust from the sacrifice blow that hung in the air. A few splatters of her life's blood remained in the bowl, shimmering in the dim light.

The ground shook beneath her. She looked up, her eyes widening with surprise and fear. Heavy boots crushed the ground as they came closer. With a startling clarity, she realized that Rapist was back to finish his task. Her left hand dropped between her legs, her wrist pressing against the tight line of stitches that held her sex together.

Darkness gathered beyond the door of the shrine, then soulsteel fingers wrapped around the edge. She braced herself for pain as the door opened with a creak, then cracked as supernatural strength tore the door off the shrine.

It wasn't Rapist. It was someone in heavy plate, but it was the armor of a terrible warrior. Heavy plates of soulsteel wavered with the ghostly faces of hundreds of lives. Gauntlets the size of her head rubbed against each other, pulverizing the remains of the door into dust. Then, the powerful hands reached up and the armored warrior tore the shrine in half. It cracked and splintered as the walls were thrown apart, crashing into tree beyond her darkness. Like a child's toy, he batted away the opening of the shrine. She could see his helm, a massive soulsteel helmet with two eyes burning with the flickering ghostly light of the dead. Her heart almost stopped looking into that terrible light, feeling his gaze stripping away flesh and bone to look at her very soul.

“They say,” he spoke in a deep, rumbling voice that somehow dripping with the very essence of the Underworld, “that at the moment of one's death, they can live a lifetime”

She jumped at the first sound of it as it grabbed her, wrapping her very mind in the seductive power that overwhelmed her. He sounded like every male in her life, the voice of the punisher, the rapist, and even the father. There was no comfort in his voice, though, just the hard, unyielding power of pure, uncompromising masculinity.

“One could say it is ironic that you would die on the same day you were born.”

Irith struggled with the power of his words. So many emotions filled every syllable of his words. She felt fear and terror, but also the seductive power of domination in his speech. Beneath her wrist, her sex began to glow with a bright heat of sexuality, the very idea of submitting to this warrior from beyond the grave. His very presence ground against her, with a word, he could crush her spirit or rise her to the very heights of ecstasy.

A low growl erupted from his armor and she felt it resonating in her very soul. With a casual strength, he stepped forward and reached out to grab her. Even if she wanted to, Irith couldn't escape his slow, steady movements. Her heart and lungs felt on power as his presence pinned her.

Instead of grabbing her, he just held out his hand.

“Stand.”

His commanding voice grabbed her. She shook as she reached up with her right hand, the broken bones grinding as she set them down on his massive, icy palm. He closed his fingers over her, trapping her hand without even the hint of pressure. She felt whispers of power curling around her hand, then a ruddy glow began to fill her, lighting up the bones from the inside as it coursed down her arm. Pain slammed into her as the bones in her hand cracked once again, shifting on their own as she felt her hand reassembling. The glow from the inside let her watch as the shadows of her skeleton cracked back into place, the fractures sealing up.

The glow reached her shoulder and spread down and across. She watched as it spread out over her entire body. As it reached her other hand, it began to crack the bones back into place, grinding them with an explosion of pain as it healed. The red cast along her skin sealed up tiny cuts and scrapes, leaving behind unblemished skin. At her legs, she felt her tendons stretching out with terrible clarity, burning away at her sanity as they healed. She wanted to scream, but her broke throat refused to make noise. Retreating, she fled back to the dead part of her mind, the place of solace through everything. The strange, spectral whisperers rose up, louder and clearer than ever before. They echoed the same ultimate power as the armored figure, but they were beyond him, insanity taking the form of words. She tried to force herself to feel pain, but the whispers would not let her escape. Instead, they started to permeate her thoughts, cementing her into the dead hole of her heart. She would have panicked, but a mask of emotions dropped over her and she began to experience it like her tortures, as something separate from herself.

Her healing finished and she drew her attention back there. Emotions bound in the dark part of her soul, she observed how easily she stood up, her body no longer shaking and the pain fading away. The hand pressed between her legs felt juices oozing out of her tightly sewn slit, hot and liquid as she pulled her wrist away. Looking at in the fading red light, she could see how it glistened. Every inch of thread that bound her send a delicious shiver through her body. Shocked, she reached up to caress her body. Not a single scratch or cut, not even a bruise against her tanned skin. Her roaming hand cupped her breast, feeling the soft mounds standing up against gravity. To her surprise, they were sensitive and she gave a silent thanks.

At least until her fingers pressed against where her nipples use to be. Instead of a pert nub of pleasure, she found only a hole. Surprise and shock faded away almost instantly as she slid a finger around the opening, feeling how the ghosts violated her, used her breast as nothing but a hole. The very edge was moist and she slipped a finger into it, exploring it. She felt a strange sense of pleasure and pain filling her with a tingling heat as she slipped her finger deeper. It slid into the first, then the second knuckle and she still didn't find the bottom. Instead, she felt a resonating pleasure rising up between her legs. Easing it out of her, she stared at the glistening finger.

She looked up at the armored warrior. Her mouth worked, but her voice refused to make any noise beyond the barest of whispers.

“Why?”

He heard her as clearly as she screamed. His hand continued to hold her hand, but his voice filled her with the terrible presence of his being.

“You are such a beautiful doll.”

Her lips worked silently, “Master.”

There was no question that he could have her. His voice dominated her more powerfully than Rapist of Seventeen Virgins could ever. She could feel the raw power in his voice, his presence crushing her heart with just his masked looked beyond the slits of his helm. Juices dripped down between her legs even as her heart pounded in muted terror. Her thoughts barely left the dark pit of her mind and she looked back at him mutely.

The armored figure flexed slightly. She could not even see an inch of his flesh through the armor. Part of her mind got the impression he wasn't really there, but the raw power of his presence overwhelmed that. Her lips worked as she whispered out the words, the sound barely reaching her ears.

“W-What do I do?”

“You have a choice, my doll.”

She stood straighter, her breasts rising in the air as she arched her back. Her hand in his metal palm felt hot and icy at the same time. Her eyes roamed across the powerful armor, watching the faces that rose up in the surface, mute expressions of screaming. She felt her heart pounding, a hungry need for him to dominate her. Her lips moved for a moment, struggling to frame her thoughts. Finally, she whispered to him.

“What, my… master?”

He nodded, his fingers relaxing to release her hand. Despite no physical restraints, she couldn't nor didn't want to pull her hand away. Instead, she stood up straight. The armored figure looked her over, then back into her eyes. She couldn't see his own eyes, but she felt them boring back through her soul.

“You have a choice and the answers are simple. The first answer is to let go of my hand. You will simply fall. The second answer is to give me your name, now and forever.”

She could feel that more rested in her answers. The awesome power of his presence relaxed and she knew she could pull her hand away. She didn't as she stared at it.

“What happens if I fall?”

“You die.”

Such a simple phrase, but one that shook her to the very limits. She glanced around at the tiny shattered shrine, then back at him.

“And my name?”

“You bind your very soul to me and you continue to walk in this world and the next, an Abyssal of such beautiful potential.”

“Y-You mean, like Rapist?”

He spoke with his powerful voice, sending fear and longing through her even as he spoke with his dark voice.

“Yes.”

Irith whimpered as she thought. The enormity of the answer bore down on her, crushing her as she contemplated her very life and death. Tales of the Underworld, the land of the dead, and the knights that came out of the darkest pits. The dark pit of destruction. In the back of her mind, the whispers rose up, promising her power, anger, and destruction. The foul sounds distracted her and she wish they would silence. The answer came, silence would come if she lifted her hand.

Her hand shook as she started to draw it off his palm. She paused with only one fingers lightly touching the metal. Her face hardened for a moment, fighting back the dark whispers in the back of her head."

“Could I kill him?”

“Rapist of Seventeen Virgins?”

“If I gave you the power to kill him, would you take it?”

“He killed my family.”

“And he tortured you.”

A shudder of memory, “Yes, he did.”

“Give me your name and I will give you the power. It may take you years or even decades until you can use it, but I promise that you will have a chance to kill him. And if you do, there will be no punishment from me or his master.”

Hatred rose up over her pain and she pressed her finger back down against his palm. She stared at it, slowly drawing it up as she struggled with her thoughts. Then, as her finger dancing right on the edge of the metal, only a tiny bit of flesh keeping her alive, she made a choice.

“My name…”

He said nothing and she swallowed, whispering as loud as she could.

“My name is Ka Irith, daughter of Ka Sarin, my father, and Ka Wedilin, my mother.”

She felt something wrapping around her very spirit as she spoke, but she couldn't stop the words from coming.

“Sister to Samayu. I am Ka Irith and…” she hesitated for a moment, “And… I give you my name.”

With a terrible wrench, she felt part of her very soul being ripped out, a spiritual tearing that blurred the very world around her. Shadows rose up, swallowing her body as she tried to struggle with a feeling that she couldn't describe, a pain that would never fade away. In the gaping wound, she could feel something being shoved into it. Sharp and painful, it cut her deeply. Memories of her childhood rose up and were cut apart as… something was rammed into her body. As it settled into place, she felt dark, corrupted energies bleeding out of the wound, sinking into her thoughts with a mix of intoxicating power and memories of lives long since passed. She drowned in the storm of new senses and in the rolling power that filled you. She felt the deadness in her thoughts and the dark whispers comforting her as the pain spread out through every thought and memory, new and old.

She heard the armored figure's voice through the darkness.

“My beautiful doll… my beautiful Doll with Dead Eyes.”

His last words resonated with her, echoing in her head over and over again as she felt the darkness squeezing down on her and plunging her into the inky world, her spirit on the knife's edge of life and death. The echoes imprinted themselves over the wound in her soul, sealing it with her new name.

Doll with Dead Eyes.