Chapter 23: The Trial of Pain

Note: This story was commissioned by Ultrasound 7 and has allowed me to share it with you. This may contain scenarios and acts that I normally wouldn’t write. There will be a strong sex slave/domination theme. I will keep this from violating any cannon established in the world and I developed the mythology that drives this story.

Lasla – Ankush, Queendom of Naith

I fought so hard against my fear as we were led to where the Trial of Pain would be held. My stomach was a maelstrom of fears, terrors, and dreads. They all swirled about each other in a wild turbulence that threatened to tear me apart.

We weren’t taken up to the throne room, but moved into the lower levels of the Ziggurat, heading downstairs and then out of the great structure altogether. We were taken to the Gallery. It was built adjacent to it, a place for the royalty of the Rakshasa’s to gather and hold private events out of the stifling confines of the Ziggurat.

It was like the arena where Kurtis and Pyrriah had fought Solja and Tharaka, but not as big. This wasn’t for the masses to use. This was the personal playground of the deadly rakshasas. As we entered the structure, I could feel their sadistic lust oozing through the walls.

The rakshasas were eager to watch my brother suffer.

My stomach roiled, wanting to empty its contents on the ground. But I marched behind my brother, Pyrriah at my side, our slaves behind us. I clutched to the leash attached to Lavhi’s collar as the princess-slave crawled after, moaning as the vibrator churned up her pussy and kept her happy. At the rear walked Mother Azuliana and Nephi.

They felt scant protection for what was to come.

“Lord Kurtis,” the slave leading us said, “if you will go down those stairs. She was a young woman in a diaphanous, white dress that showed off the ebony skin of her body. She was Halanian, from the desert to the west across the Shilter Strait. “You will be met by the queen’s slaves who will prepare you. Ladies Lasla and Pyrriah, if you will follow me. The queen has set aside seats for you to watch beside her august presence.”

“Lead on,” Pyrriah said, sounding way more composed than I felt.

I wanted to shake apart. If I opened my mouth, I would squeak like a field mouse or vomit. Neither seemed regal. I had to play my part. Look like I was a mistress in control of herself, not a sister terrified for her brother’s safety.

We were led upstairs that opened onto the viewing stands. Seats lined the oval-shaped arena separated into groups, each of the rakshasa princesses or other royalty sitting in their own sections. They were attended by slaves, mostly brawny men, but a few scantily clad women holding ostrich feather fans or flagons of chilled wine. The rakshasas lounged in their gold-trimmed robes. Many had brought divans to recline upon and look positively indulgent.

Queen Athirmi sat upon a throne, her favorite slave girls around her. The two werefox twins lounged beside her throne while the lamia perched at the queen’s feet. The werespider, in her human form, looked dangerous as she stood behind the throne.

No other guards were present. As if Queen Athirmi was so powerful, she didn’t need to hide behind a wall of brawny men like some of the princesses did. All of these gathered were daughters, nieces, sisters, aunts, or cousins of the queen. They were all vying to take the throne for themselves, murdering rivals above them, even their own mothers, to gain the throne.

They were a depraved race. I hated being here.

“Welcome, welcome,” Queen Athirmi purred to my sister and me, motioning to the two seats that were beside her throne. They were cushioned and well-carved, decorated with fanciful tigers. “Be seated. It will start soon.”

I took the seat closest to Queen Athirmi, nodding my head, too afraid to speak.

My sister sat beside me, her hand grabbing mine for a moment. Our mother and Nephi stood behind us while Lavhi and Naryu curled up at our feet like they were kittens and not rakshasa princesses.

I forced myself to gaze out at the arena. Pradu was already there in a simple robe not unlike what we wore. It hugged her body. She was adjusting her tools spread out on a marble table. I shuddered at the manacles draped over it. The paddles, whips, flails, and riding crops she adjusted. There was even a knife with a wicked curve to the blade.

A knife?

My stomach tightened.

A slave post stood nearby the altar, a thick column of marble with manacles dangling from the top. Beyond it was an X-shaped binding rack with manacles at each end. It was made of wood painted red. Last, there were two posts with a bar between them from which hung a pair of manacles.

“Illth’s poxed cum,” breathed Pyrriah. “All of that.”

Then Kurtis marched out alone and naked.

My stomach clenched even tighter at the sight of him, back straight, his body a light tan, so much paler than the Naithans. His dark hair fell in wavy locks. He looked like a man who had come to conquer Pradu.

To defeat her even though he would be the helpless one.

Kurtis reached the area of the sands before the queen and knelt there, lowering his head. “I am ready to face the trial of pain. I’m ready to prove myself worthy of being your champion, Queen Athirmi.”

She nodded and rose.

“Kurtis, you must endure Pradu’s torment. She has until sunset to break you. If you fall to your knees and eat her pussy or perform any other activity that she commands with the following exceptions, you will have failed. She will keep you to do with as she pleases.”

Kurtis nodded.

“You must obey any command to move where she tells you and to submit to any bindings she demands. Those alone you must obey. Any other command is a sign that you have broken beneath the pain and were too weak.”

“I will not break, Your Majesty,” Kurtis said, his voice powerful. It rang across the Gallery.

“Pradu, you may not deal him any lasting harm,” the queen added, her voice harsh. “If you do, you shall be gutted and thrown to the dogs. He is not your property.”

“Yet,” purred Pradu. “I will not mar this perfect man.”

I swallowed. Hours of torment. Hours. It would be a full day that my brother would have to endure all those items. I swallowed. I didn’t want to be here. I couldn’t watch this torture. It was terrible. I could scarcely believe it.

Nephi’s hands landed on my shoulders. She massaged me ever so gently. “Slow breaths, Mistress Lasla. Slow breaths.”

I followed her advice as the queen set down. It had begun. The Trial of Pain. I swallowed, my entire body shaking with fear for the man I loved. He had to endure it. He just had to triumph over what they were about to do to him. I drew in shallow breaths, so scared for him. But I could not object. I had to ... to endure this.

I rolled my shoulders, my heart pounding in my chest. I had to be strong. Like Kurtis. It wasn’t like I had to endure the pain. I just had to watch.

But it was so hard as tides of sick and depraved lust washed over me. All the rakshasas were getting wet and eager for the pain to begin, especially Pradu. She didn’t look it, but she was boiling in her own sadism. I wanted to wretch from the cruelty.

Kurtis

Pradu’s desire washed over me like polluted water. It was lust, but a foul and selfish one. She cared only for her pleasure, and that could come only through the pain she inflicted on others. She had warped and twisted the avenues of desire in her to travel one way.

I had to change them.

Pradu picked up a pair of manacles off the marble table and threw them to me. “Put those on behind your back.”

I did. They had the feel of magical artifacts, something a mage from the Collegiate Tower in Esh-Esh would have made. I had to obey. I knew why Pradu was having me do this herself. She wanted me to get used to take orders. To find it easier to submit to the ones that I couldn’t obey. To break.

I slapped the first manacle around my right wrist and felt a clink. The ends had sealed together and then shrunk to fit tight about my wrist. No slipping them off if I wanted to. A wave of nervous fear washed through me as I closed the other cuff on my left wrist. Was I making a big mistake? Should I have fled on the Treasure Box with my women?

Too late now.

CLICK!

The manacle shrunk tight. All that was left was to endure. I drew in slow breaths, my chest rising and falling as she advanced on me. Her eyes were hungry, dark and predatory. She wasn’t in her rakshasa form, but I could tell that she was one of them. Her lusts swelled as she marched around me.

She examined me like I was a thing, drinking in the sight of my muscles like I was a slave on the auction block that she wanted to own more than anything. She ran her fingers over my back and shoulders before she moved around to my front. She caressed through my chest hairs down to my abdomen.

“Mmm, yes, yes, you are a gorgeous specimen, Kurtis,” she said. “I think I shall enjoy pegging you with my strap-on and make you beg to be my slut. My little man-whore. We’ll grow that hair out, paint your face in cosmetics, and stuff you in a dress.”

“What a waste,” I told her. “You’ll get far more pleasure when you’re on your hands and knees begging me to fuck that tight, virgin asshole of yours. Trust me, you’ll cum far harder.”

She laughed, throwing back her head. Her breast jiggled beneath her robe. “Oh, bravado. How I love it. Savor it. It always hides fear. Weakness.”

“And you’re not mistaking it for confidence. You’re in my territory.”

“You are no master who trains slaves,” she said. “You’re heart is too soft to break a creature to your will.”

“I think you don’t understand the arena that we face each other in. It’s not pain. It’s lust. And I am better at manipulating lust than you are. You’ll be begging for satisfaction before we’re done here. You can make it easy. Just surrender now.”

She grabbed my cock and stroked me. I didn’t resist hardening. I let her, the delight building in her. She was so eager to hurt me. She would inflict so much pain on me. Pain I would have to endure to conquer her.

“We’ll see,” she said.

I let out a groan as she pumped up and down my erect dick. Her grip felt delicious. My cock throbbed, the pleasure flowing down me. She leaned in and licked my ear, a shudder running through my body.

“You are going to beg to be my little man-slut before we’re done today,” she cooed. “They always break.”

“Yes, they do,” I said. “It’ll be glorious when you break.”

She bit my ear.

I grunted at the pain. She drew blood. I could feel how that excited her. Her pussy grew wetter beneath her robe. She pulled away from me, but kept that grip on my cock. She rubbed her thumb across the tip.

“I find that, with a man, it’s the need to release his seed that will break him fastest. The pain is just to condition him to spill it when he is hurting. You are a man of deep lusts. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without cumming. The night while sleeping? How many times did you cum this morning.”

“Who was keeping track.” I shrugged. “I keep my women satisfied.”

She dipped her free hand into her pocket and then pulled out a cord. She wrapped it around the base of my shaft and tied it. Hard. I grunted as it bit into my flesh. Suddenly, my dick felt swollen. Overripe.

“You’ll stay hard no matter what I do to you,” she purred. “Hard and unable to cum. You’ll ache and throb. You’ll crave it more and more as the day goes. As the pain falls, so will the agony in your cock. You’ll be begging for relief.”

She whirled and sauntered to the table. Then she paused. She opened her robe and left it fall down her naked back. It exposed her curvy rump, her wavy, brown hair tumbling over her caramel skin. She grabbed a paddle and turned, the piercing in her nose catching the sunlight and flaring, becoming a ring of golden light. The light flickered down the chain that led to her pierced, left ear.

She advanced, her round breasts jiggling. She smacked the paddle into her hand. It was a piece of wood stained dark. She held it with power, humming. The anticipation of causing pain surged in her. She was eager for it.

“Bend over,” she commanded. “That is the pose I require.”

I glanced to Queen Athirmi and smiled at her as I obeyed. “As her majesty commands, so I act.”

Pradu laughed. “Oh, you are amusing. This is going to be fun.”

I drew in a few deep breaths as she moved behind me. She slapped the paddle into my ass. The stinging impact made me grunt. My tied-off cock throbbed. The swollen ache in my dick was worse than the impact of the paddle.

Her hand rubbed up and down my back as the paddle fell. Fast. She slapped into my butt-cheeks over and over. A stinging warmth spread. It grew and grew with every impact. I rolled my shoulders, savoring that impact.

They slapped into me again and again and again.

I fought the grunts and groans that wanted to burst from my lips. I endured them falling in silence.

The walking rakshasa all simmered, waiting for the real pain to begin. This was just the warm-up. My toes flexed. I had to stay in control as the pain grew and grew. My ass blazed with the heat of the paddle’s impact.

My dick throbbed. Ached. My heart pounded, pumping hot blood through my veins. The manacles rattled as my wrists pulled on them. I wanted to break free, take that paddle, slam it into her face. I had to control myself.

The lust wasn’t growing in Pradu. I could feel the frustration wrapping around her desire. She wanted to hear me cry out from the paddling. I just clenched my teeth, fighting against every last moan and grunt and cry.

She slapped harder. The smacks rocked me. My bound cock bobbed beneath me, reminding me just how swollen it was. How much I wanted to rip off that damned cord. My teeth ground together, enamel scraping.

She hissed.

So she spanked me harder.

She searched for her pleasure, but she couldn’t find it. I wouldn’t let her have it. I denied it to hers, suppressing it. I just had to endure the pain. My ass was almost numb from the fiery agony that burned across it.

“The harder they fight,” she purred.

CRACK!

“The harder they break.”

I didn’t answer. If I opened my mouth, I would gran in pain. I have to deny her any satisfaction. The wood impacted over and over again. I dug my toes into the sands as she swung with all her might to hurt me.

I just had to endure it.

I sucked in deep breaths, my heart racing.

“This will stop when you fall to my knees and eat my pussy,” she purred, trying to hide how little satisfaction she was getting. “I’m so wet.”

“Are you?” I asked, fighting to keep from groaning. It was a risk, but I wanted to twist it home. “You don’t feel like you’re putting your heart into this.”

She hissed and then spanked me so hard I bucked and stumbled. I caught myself, my manacles rattling. The pain was intense. I had to take it. I had to keep denying her. Frustrating her. I could feel that ache to be satiated by her cruelty, but it never arrived. She couldn’t find it.

I flared that. The desire to be aroused. The need for satisfaction, but I denied her any chance of receiving any. No way for her to achieve any orgasms while spanking me. That was how much of a sadist she was.

“Mmm, you’re warmed up,” she said, moving to the table. “Ready for something a bit more fun.”

“Are you?” I asked. “I mean ... you don’t seem like you’re having any fun. Is the pressure getting to you?”

“What?” she hissed as I flared her desire. I made her pussy throb with the need for satisfaction, but even if she rubbed herself, she would never find it.

“I mean, if you don’t break me, you’re going to be my slave. You’re going to be on your knees begging for my cock to fuck you. You’ll be craving it. A little kitty cat like Princess Naryu and Lavhi.”

Pradu sneered as she picked up a flail with nine tails. The leather gleamed in the sunlight as she strode back to me. “Don’t compare me to those weak, little bitches. I am not about to break to your will.”

“Really?” I asked. “Why not? You seem like the type that snaps easily. You think you’re so strong, that you’re in control, but your body is frustrating you. Mmm, where’re those purrs of satisfaction.”

“What satisfaction can I get with a little paddling.” She holds up her flail. “This...” She shudders, rubbing her thighs together. Her clit ached. I made it throb even more. “This will hurt you so much. I will cum as I lash your back.”

It would hurt. My stoic refusal to cry out would be tested. Broken. I didn’t doubt that I would crack beneath that striking my flesh. There were limits to human endurance that even I couldn’t withstand. I was Las’s son, not the god himself.

She moved behind me and touched my manacles. They sprang open and fell from my lips. She grabbed the flail over my rump and then gave a light swat. Not even hard. But it still stung. I almost grunted from it.

She pointed at the slave post. “Hug that, wyrm.”

I had to obey that command. My cock throbbed as I moved to it. I hated how swollen my dick was. It hurt as I moved, more so than my blazing ass. I ignored both as I headed to the post. I drew in deep breaths.

I just had to break her first.

I hugged the smooth marble, the tip of my cock rubbing against it. I couldn’t help how good that felt. She advanced behind me, her gold chain flashing along her cheek. She smiled at me, full of all her cruelty.

She would enjoy hurting me. Was eager for it.

I flared that eagerness. That urge for her sexual gratification. She groaned and thrust a hand between her thighs. She was frustrated, her flesh hot. She rubbed at herself as she moved behind me. She hissed in irritation.

Her fingers did nothing for her.

But she kept rubbing as she drew back the flail. I closed my eyes, bracing myself. Everyone was watching me. I had to be strong. I couldn’t be weak. Lasla, Pyrriah, my mother, Nephi, and the two rakshasa-slaves were counting on me. I had to be as strong—

SWISH! CRACK!

The flail struck across my back. I felt all nine of the tails slapping my skin. It hurt so much. My ass clenched. I grunted this time. I couldn’t help it. My back blazed with pain. I sucked in breaths through my nose.

The flail crashed down again. And again.

I grunted with each impact. I hugged the pillar tighter, my right cheek rubbing into the smooth, cool surface. I snarled at how the pain was growing and growing with each impact of the flail. My back screamed in agony.

I wanted it to stop. To end.

But I wouldn’t let this bitch beat me.

“Gods damn!” I growled.

“It stops when you fall to your knees and lick my pussy,” she purred, her hand between her thighs.

“That cunt you’re rubbing so hard to make cum?” I growled, suppressing any pleasure she was getting. All frustration, no satisfaction.

“You’ll make me cum so hard when you’re my pet,” she hissed. She ripped her hand from her cunt and grabbed my ass, squeezing hard.

The pain flared. My body shook.

“Then I’m going to fuck you with my strap-on,” she purred. “The longer you wait to break, the bigger it will be. I’ll rip that ass apart if you deny me!”

“And here ... I thought this ended ... when you were sucking my dick like a slut! Just dripping like the Whore-Goddess Slata herself for my cock!”

Pradu snarled and slammed the flail on my back.

The agony was intense. I screamed in pain. I couldn’t stop myself. I hugged the pole so tight, enduring the agony, but unable to bottle it up any longer. It burst out of me, echoing around the gallery. I felt everyone watching me.

Including my poor family.

The flail slashed at my back. My muscles screamed from the pain. She worked it from my shoulders to my ass, the tails wrapping around my side to strike my chest. The pain burned everywhere. I hardly noticed the pressure in my bound cock.

I shuddered and snarled through my teeth. It hurt so much, but I was beating the bitch. She had no relief. She could whip me as much as she wanted. All it did was make her hornier and hornier and hornier.

I flared it.

“Lick my pussy and it ends!”

SWISH! CRACK!”

“Go fuck you Illth’s diseased cock!” I howled, my body bucking. “You’re a worm, Pradu. A thing. Fall to your knees!”

“You dare order ME!”

The flail fell so fast. It must be a blur as she slashed and cracked and slapped my back. I bucked and howled, the pain overwhelming everything. There were just the slave post and the flail crashing into my back. I shuddered, wanting it to end.