Chapter 3: De-clitted

Lila's pussy was on fire after her caning. With her legs bent back, her pussy exposed, and her wrists tied down, there was nothing she could do to relieve her violent burning. Immobile, she looked up at the ceiling, whimpered and cried. She had never been whipped there, and this was, until now, the most painful experience of her short life. Of course, something even more painful would come soon but ignoring it, or trying to, was her way of keeping herself together. She wondered what Manu, her torturer was doing right now.

He had left the room, ostensibly to fetch her some lemonade, but in truth, he could not bear to see her whimpering in pain, trying to writhe and not succeeding. How he would manage to burn her clitoris off was only one of his worries. If Al-Mansur had simply ordered her de-clitted, he could slice it off with a scalpel or cut it off with scissors, both methods that, while painful, were more humane than the horror that he had to subject her to.

He refilled her glass of lemonade, got a bag of ice, and returned to the torture room where Lila awaited. She was still crying and whimpering when he arrived. Leaving the lemonade on a table, he applied the ice bag to her pussy and was rewarded by her "Ohhh." of relief. He admired her bound beauty for a few minutes more, before releasing her arms and legs. He pulled her up on the table to let her rest for a while and drink the lemonade.

"I'm so sorry I could not thank you before, sir," Lila said, "but the pain was so much I could only scream and cry."

Manu could not believe her docility, "It's all right Lila."

"How are you going to ... you know, de-clit me?"

Manu took a deep breath, "I'm sorry that the instructions are so specific Lila. I would have preferred to slice it off with a knife or cut it off with scissors; I don't have that choice, I hope you understand."

"I understand sir; you are most kind."

"It is simple, I will take three irons and place them in a lit charcoal brazier," Lila shuddered when he said this, "I will let them heat until they are white hot, and then burn your clitoris off with them."

Lila started to tremble and to silently cry again. Manu watched her, willing himself to be professional about this, and failing miserably.

She managed to restrain her sobs, "I'm truly sorry sir," she said.

"How can you be so accepting, so docile?" He asked, perplexed, helping her up off the table.

He also noticed the raging erection that threatened to burst out of his underwear. He always used slips to work; it just wouldn't do to have his victims witness his arousal, it would be unprofessional. With Lila, however, he did not want her to know that her pain and suffering was exciting him. He feared she would think less of him for that. He shook his head and helped her to her knees.

Kneeling, Lila responded, her eyes downcast and tears flowing again:

"There is nothing that can be done, so why fight? It is better to accept and submit," her voice quavered, "besides, I deserve this."

"What foolishness is this?" Manu sputtered, stunned. "How can anybody, much less someone as sweet as you, deserve this?"

Lila's sobs were louder now, between them, she managed to answer:

"I was the youngest and prettiest of my master's slaves. He used Sarah the most, he loved her of course; but when he was not using her, he would always use me."

Lila continued crying, "When Sarah decided she was going to get snuffed, we were all devastated, but when Master chose Juggy and me to come to Brunei with him and Sarah..."

She was bawling out loud now, "I ... I was glad. I thought he would pick me, to be his first girl."

She lost all control, her hands clenched into fists, pounding at the air, "And then she climbed on the stage, and was impaled ... and I wanted to die."

Manu knelt down and embraced the sobbing girl. He patted her on the back, her nude body melding into his. It took her a long time to calm down. He stroked her hair all the time until her tears dried out and her breathing evened.

"I deserve everything I get," Lila concluded.

Manu got up.

"Is it time?" she asked.

"Will you let me help? Please," she added.

She followed him into another room, a storage room. There was an iron brazier filled with coals; it was on a stand with wheels, hooked up to a propane bottle. She pulled it into the torture room; opening the gas, she lit the flames.

"The gas attachment makes it much easier to get the coals going," Manu explained. "It will still be more than an hour until the coals are ready and then the irons still need to heat up."

Lila nodded; she started the air extractor, to blow the fumes out of the basement, and followed him to the room with the bookcases. He sat at the armchair and she kneeled at his side, leaning her head on his knee.

"Believe me, I will not hurt you more than what is strictly necessary."

"I believe you sir, but please, do not concern yourself on my account."

He caressed her hair. An idea began to creep into his brain: "There is no way the sheik will sell her to me now, but after she is de-clitted, I will ask him. May be then, maybe after she's been tortured for a while" Not wishing to give her false hopes, he did not tell her about his idea, but he continued toying with it while caressing her hair in silence.

"It is time to put the irons on," Manu said, getting up.

"I'll do it sir."

Lila picked up the three irons. For the first time she had a good look at the instruments that soon would sear into the very center of her womanhood. They looked very much like the pokers she used to see around New England fireplaces, except that where many of the Yankee pokers were ornamental, so many of the fireplaces burned gas nowadays, these were cruelly functional. A straight iron rod ended on one side in a wood handle; the other side, which she examined last, the business end that would burn into her most sensitive spot, was a small pyramid of iron. She touched it with her fingers and then, with as much vigor as she could muster, she thrust the three irons into the depths of the glowing red coals. She turned her back on the brazier and saw Manu at the door, looking at her. Her fear, gnawing again at her guts, threatened to possess her again. She needed to pee.