BDSM Library - Aurelie's Mexican Vacations

Aurelie's Mexican Vacations

Provided By: BDSM Library
www.bdsmlibrary.com



Synopsis: Aurélie goes on a trip to meet someone she met online and shared sadistic fantasies. She slowly starts to find out that for him they are more than fantasies, and wonders if she will ever return to her country.

Aurélie's Mexican vacations

Chapter 1: First days in Mexico


Aurélie laid her back against the hot stone of the altar. She spread her legs and arms, imagining herself the future victim of an Aztec High Priest. She smiled as wild fantasies passed through her mind. Her abundant, curly auburn mane was splayed all over the stone as her chest heaved up and down. Climbing all those stairs had been a serious effort and she had worked a sheen of perspiration. She had opened the two first buttons of her white, sleeveless shirt to get some freshness, and her cleavage was clearly visible. Her long, slender legs were mostly naked as she was only wearing blue-jeans shorts and leather-strap sandals.



"Whom your heart does belong to? It would make no difference, it would be ripped out by the high priest as part of the spring ceremony," he teased, grabbing her wrists and stretching her arms further, which caused her to arch her back a little more and thrust her proud breasts towards the sky goddess.



Smiling widely, she pretended to struggle, contorting her shapely legs against the stone. He stared at those beautifully displayed legs, "I wonder if some of them offered themselves to the high priest, thinking he would spare them from that fate, only to see the blood from her ripped-open chest match that of her ripped-open virginity of the previous night". She folded her legs up, braced her heels on the top of the altar and lifted her hips off the stone, faking terror with a wide smile across her face. "I'm sure they would have been ready to offer anything to escape this torment," she replied.



"Look, the Priest would plant his knife here," Pablo explained, shoving his finger right in the middle of her cleavage. Aurélie laughed and pushed his hand away. They had shared countless fantasies of the most extreme kind over the Internet, but still she was not totally comfortable with the real Pablo. Not yet, although she was hoping that this Mexican trip would bring her more than sun tan, cultural knowledge and spicy food. She stood back up and shook her hair out of her face. She gave a last look at the wonderful sight they had from the highest of the Teotihuacan pyramids.



Pablo wiped the sweat from his brows. "We should get down now if we want to have the time to visit the natural caves of Cacahuamilpa. It is a very complex system of caves with many entrances. I am lucky enough to have one of them on my property. I am sure you will like very much to visit them," he said. "Be careful going down. Those steps are so narrow!"



This was Aurélie's third day in Mexico. Pablo had invited her to visit his country after they had passed countless hours exchanging mails and chat over Internet. She was still trying to adapt to the reality, as well as to the climate. He was driving her back to his Hacienda. Aurélie had removed her shoes and was lying backward on the passenger's seat, trying to get a little rest. She had not yet quite accustomed herself to the time difference. She stretched her legs, resting her feet on the front of the car while crossing her fingers behind her head, remembering what she had already seen.



The day before Pablo had brought her to visit to the inquisition museum in Mexico City. It had turned out disappointing because of its lack of instruments displayed, and the fact that none could be touched. Still they had joked, somewhat artificially, about how she was craving to feel that rought wood of the rack with her own hands and imagine that surface in contact with her naked back and the roughness of the ropes encasing her wrists. The instruments were demonstrated in rather realistic still scenes. Aurélie had been particularly impressed by the scene of water torture, which depicted a mostly naked girl stretched over a wooden wedge. She had never seen so graphic displays in European museums. The ice had begun to melt down on the patio of the museum, where he had taken a picture of her with her head and hands inside the too-wide holes of a fake pillory. She had been bent at the waist and, unknown to her, she had been displaying a nice plunging view into her cleavage doing so. He had completed his collection with pictures from the rear, with her strong buttocks neatly moulded by her shorts.



Chapter 2: The caves of Cacahuamilpa

They finally reached Pablo's hacienda. Aurélie was glad to take a cool shower and then she put on blue-jeans pants and a warm fleece. Pablo had warned her that it could get cooler inside the caves. Some time later they were 10 metres below the surface, exploring the cave's tortuous bowels. They were wandering around with flash-lights. Pablo explained how the caves were formed, focusing his torch on various beautiful rock formations, and how the caves had been used as secret bases and caches by various pirates.



It was about time to return to the surface when Aurelie wanted to pose for a last picture. She gave Pablo her flash-light and sat on a rock, resting on her hands behind her and thrusting her chest forward, faking a luscious posture. Pablo took a couple of pictures and then made his move.



“You know, why don't we take a more ‘savage’ picture? Would you dare to remove your clothes?”



"You mean... You want to take a picture of me naked?" she said, blushing.



"Well, the picture will be for you to keep, When are you going to be back here in this place? With all this natural beauty, contrasted with your own natural beauty."



She blushed some more. But she had to admit that she was tempted. And maybe this would help to break the mirror, to melt the ice that seemed to separate them since they were communicating in direct instead of through their keyboards.



“Come on, who will see you here?” he insisted, seeing she was hesitating.



Finally, she decided to try it. She first removed her sandals, then she removed her fleece and unbuttoned her shirt. He took a couple of pictures where she showed her proud bosom still encased in a white bra. As her kinky mind warmed up, she continued with her pants, posing for a few more pictures in only her underwear. Finally, those last remnants of her modesty fell down too, although she shyly kept her nipples and crotch hidden in various ways. The air in the cave was rather cold and damp, and goosebumps immediately appeared on her skin. The stone was wet and cold against her skin.



“That’s better... but something more is missing. I want to give the pictures the look of a girl captured by pirates and hidden inside a cave. Would you put your hands behind your back while I tie you with this rope?”



She lifted an eyebrow, but the sight of the rope and the idea he had seeded into her mind were already making their effect. With a light giggle, she turned around and crossed her wrists in the small of her back.



He grabs the rough rope,a nd gives one turn to each wrists individually, followed by three turns to both of then, ending everything in a double knot.



She pulled lightly on the rope and was surprised that it did not yield at all. It was no fake bondage, but real, boy-scout-grade knotting and she doubted she could free herself that easily. The thought injected a high dose of adrenaline and lust into her veins. Immediately she felt in the role of the pirate's prisoner. She began to pretend she was fighting her restraints, contorting her arms, pulling on the ropes. The more she acted, the more she felt excited. All along, Pablo was snapping his camera, blinding her with the flashes.



“Good, nice pictures!” Click! “Just the way I will remember you” Click! Click!



"You know Pablo, I'm really beginning to feel like the prisoner of a pirate. Were they really pirates here? Would they really use such caves as prisons? I imagine the poor creatures, alone in the dark, helpless..." Aurélie said, contorting her bound arms some more and looking around. She made a few steps. The ground was a little muddy with sharp pebbles here and there against her soles. "Imagine the poor prisoner, naked and bound, tugged by the vicious pirates all along those dark and damp caves, with only the light of torch," she continued, lost in her fantasy.



"But of course, they would not only have their hands tied, it would be something like this," Pablo said, following her in the fantasy.



He made her kneel on the sharp rocks floor and gently but tightly forced her wrists lower until they were close enough to her ankles to tie all four limbs together with another rope, giving it two turns, and a double knot.



"Now that is better!"



Aurélie let herself being bound and waited until he had tightened the last knot to start struggling, now making pitiful moans. "Oh, please Captain Pablo, please don't harm me! My father will offer a good ransom for me!" she pleaded, feeling her loins boiling at the thought of what was happening. Gone was the coldness and dampness of the air. She was now feeling deliciously alive and aroused. She struggled some more against the ropes, in spite of the sharp stones grinding against her shins and knees.



Click! Click! Pablo was shooting more photos.



"These look nice, unlike those grainy pictures taken with your cell-phone camera."



"Can you show me?" she asked with a strange, strangled voice. Her eyes were curiously absent, as if she were on another planet entirely.



"Seems like the one we are in is not the only damp cave around here. Here, take a look at the pictures" He turned the dial to show every shot he had taken of her.



Seeing herself naked and tightly bound only propelled Aurélie higher into her fantasy. "Oh myyyy! You are so good as a photographer!"



"You know what, I wonder if I could free myself from those ropes. You know I'm quite good at binding and freeing myself..." she said, while Pablo could not be sure whether she was talking to him or to herself.



"You think it's too easy? well, then let me add some more challenge"



Another rope was tied, fixing her elbows tightly together, greatly impairing her movement.



Aurélie did not react until he tightened the rope so much that her elbows almost touched. "Oww! Stop, that's OK. Tight enough!" Her proud breasts were now thrusting forward because of the strict arch the elbow rope was forcing on her shoulders and torso.



The girl's hormone-ridden mind was churning at high speed, quite out of control now. "Pablo, would you be up for a game? You leave me like that and you only come back in 15 minutes. If I have not freed myself by then... I have lost," she proposed, not sure what "having lost" exactly meant.



"I like the way you think" he said with a wide smile. "The only problem is I will not be able to see your struggle". He picked up the camera, both flash-lights and started carefully walking the long way up.



When she saw him taking her flash-light, Aurélie became uneasy. "Wait! Leave me my flash-light! I'll need it!" she called.



"Why? to burn the ropes with it? Do you think the pirates used to leave their captives with a night lamp so they would sleep without nightmares?" he mocked her.



"No, but I need it to see what I'm doing, and where I walk!" she replied, with light irritation in her voice.



"Try to remember every detail you can see now. You are lucky: You were not blindfolded when taken here, contrary to how a real captive would have been. Let's see if you can free yourself and escape before the pirate comes back to ravage you. Besides this was all your idea, you said you could escape... so escape!"



Aurélie glared at him but he probably could not see it as he was already  quite some distance from her and she was already surrounded with shadows. She shivered and wanted to call him back but then she realised just in time that he was right. She had boasted she could free herself and she did not want to look like a coward. Pablo turned a corner and she was soon plunged into the deepest darkness she had ever seen.



This was so new, so thrilling, so exciting too. Her nipples were hard as steel, both from the fresh air and her arousal. This Pablo was the perfect play partner! She had always tried to play such games with her former lovers, but they had always been too gentleman-like. They never dare to tighten the ropes too much, were always afraid to hurt her or scare her. Pablo seemed to understand her perfectly. I have better not disappoint him, she said inwardly. He is expecting me to free myself, and that's what I'm going to do.



She immediately put herself to work. The hog-tie in itself was not utterly difficult. The elbow tie might be harder, but she would deal with it in due time. However, as she began to explore the knots with her fingers, she had to admit that it had all been done very cleverly and very tightly. Without any care for the blood supply in her hands or feet. Still, after twisting her hands a couple of times and clenching and unclenching her fists, she had managed to collect some slack into the ropes, enough to bring the tip of her fingers to the knots. Some more struggling and the first double knot gave in. Moments later, her ankles and wrists were free. Her elbows were still strictly tied together, almost touching. She contorted her arms, twisted her shoulders, rubber the rope against a wall, until she was able to make it slip down her forearms.



At last she was free! She had no idea of how much time had passed though, and she had only weak memories of the way to the outside. They had walked down a maze of tortuous caves and tunnels, hardly maintained. She had been totally trusting Pablo and had concentrated her attention on the beauties of the cave.Now, the only thing she was more or less sure of was the direction Pablo had taken when leaving her. She began to walk in that direction, her arms and feet slowly exploring the space in front of her to avoid any obstacle.



Darkness and silence where surrounding her. Her soles were aching from the countless pebbles and asperities of the ground. She had managed to reach the far wall and was now following it to the left, where Pablo had disappeared. She had no idea where she was nor what direction to follow. She was only trying to always walk upwards. Surely, 15 minutes must have elapsed by now, she thought after having progressed for some time. I wish Pablo would come now. I'll never get out of this alone without light.



Meanwhile, Pablo had brought a comfortable chair to the front porch of the Hacienda, from where he could monitor the cave entrance. He had poured himself a glass of Scotch with some ice and waited. Either a very horny or a very pissed female would come out eventually. In both cases he was looking forward to the best fuck in ages. He was finishing his second glass, when his clock beeped letting him know that 15 minutes had elapsed. It was time to go search for his victim. This time, Pablo shouldered a heavy backpack that produced a metallic, rattling sound as it landed on his back.



Meanwhile, Aurélie was completely lost. She had no idea of what direction she was heading to. Her feet were sore from constantly stepping on invisible sharp stones and kicking into unseen obstacles. The ground was wet and slippery and several time she had stumbled and fallen hard onto her knees. Excitement had been followed by irritation and then by fear. Why did he take my flash-light away? Where is he now? Surely the 15 minutes must be gone! She thought angrily. And she began to call for help, her screams echoing endlessly through the vast hollowness of the caves. "PAAAAAAABLOOOOOOO! PAAAAAABLOOOOOOOO!"



At last she heard foot steps echoing and growing louder, hard-soled shoes crunching on the ground making a sound quite different from the quietness her own naked feet produced.



"I'm over here!" Pablo called, and Aurélie  let out a sigh of relief. She was beginning to think he would never come, that she had erred too far from the normal path to be found. But at the sound of his warm Mexican accent all concerns disappeared and she again felt the rush of the situation growing inside her. Now that she knew she was safe, the whole experience was quickly taking another light entirely, one that would surely remain as the most powerful experience in her kinky life.



Moments later she saw his dancing flash-light turn a corner and the dripping cave around her appeared once again, much narrower, much more cramped than she had envisioned it with her mind's eye. She was smiling widely at Pablo as he approached, a stern look on his face.



"Oh! Pablo! That was so scary, but it was also so..." she began. But he cut her off.



"You have failed to escape! So I'm afraid I will have to put you through another test. Follow the light quickly, I will not stop to wait for you."



Aurélie felt a surge of indignation. There was so much she wanted to tell! But Pablo had already turned and was walking away with long strides. Aurélie hurried behind him, trying to place her feet where it would hurt her least and walking as fast as she could in spite of this handicap. The Mexican was walking fast and she had a hard time following him. But the idea to be once again lost in darkness way spurring her to move faster.



Chapter 3: The cactus garden

At last she saw the light of the day far ahead. As they approached, it began to hurt her eyes. It did not last because as soon as they reached the cave entrance, Pablo placed a thick leather hood over her head. Aurelie had meant to discuss with him but his stern look and her own desire to explore more of their common kink induced her not to protest. The hood had a built-in thick leather ball gag and the French girl was soon silenced as much as it was blinding her. The hood had a thick chain threaded around its neck, whose heavy-duty padlock he promptly closed with a loud click. The only orifices pierced into the thick leather were against her nostrils and at the top to let her auburn mane pass through. It was encasing her in total darkness and was impairing her hearing.


Aurelie was trying to accustom her jaws to the big ball of leather packed in her mouth and she explored the hood with her hand. It was made of thick leather and was totally hiding her features, except for the palm-tree of auburn locks emerging from the top of it. This was rendering her totally anonymous and expressionless, while disorientating her completely. In the back of her mind, the Reason's voice was whispering that it would make her unable to protest, ask for help or even just attract pity; that they had never discussed about a safe-word. But that voice was totally over-flooded under the roars and cat-calls from her aroused emotions.


Passing a finger through a ring set on the front of her collar, he led her along an unseen trail. Aurelie could feel the hot Mexican sun bathing her naked skin and a mid-rocky mid-sandy dry ground under her raw soles. Not very far from the cave entrance he made her stop. The trail was leading to a fenced area where a great variety of cacti were growing.


"There are thousands of species of cacti in this country, and in my botanic garden I've managed to grow a great deal of them. That will come handy for your next task," he said. He had to speak loud to ensure she could hear him. "You can't see them, but there are a lot of cacti around you. On one of them, I have hooked a keyring, holding the keys to your hood and to the garden's gate. Open the gate before 30 minutes have passed and you will have succeeded in the test and be freed. The keyring could be anywhere, from the very tall desert cactus we call Saguaro, to the smallest ones you could easily step on".


Having said that, he walked a few steps away, and Aurelie heard the gate being closed and locked. "Search well my dear!" she heard him say, and his voice seemed to come from very far away, muffled as it was by the thickness of her hood.


She was now on her own and quite at a loss about where to begin with. She had not seen that garden before and had no idea how  it was organised and how large it was. This would be a totally random search and only luck could make her win that test. Luck and speed. She extended her arms in front of her and swayed them wide, exploring the area in front of her. Nothing, She tentatively exploder the ground around her with her right foot. The ground was rocky and dry. There was a lot of gravel. She hoped there would be no snake. She wondered if she would be able to recognize the key-ring with just her bare foot. She hoped so. She explored a little farther with her foot and moaned from the pain as her toes were cruelly stung by a low cactus. She stepped beside it and again her arms explored around her.


This was so slow. The sun was beating on her skin and her face was bathing in her sweat inside the hood. Her soles too were being burned on the sizzling hot soil. She made a few more steps, touching more cacti with her sensitive soles. Hopefully Pablo had not hidden the key too far from her position. That would have been unfair. But was he fair? Did he even want her to have a fair chance of succeeding?


At some point, her left hand encountered a tall cactus. A big and noble Saguaro. She turned to face it and began to explore its large trunk, from the ground to as high as she could reach when climbing on her toes. Her fingers explored cautiously the shallow grooves protected by the long lines of bristles. She turned around it to explore all its sides. But she had to admit the key-ring was not there. She continued her search.


She really looked like a fool, with her hesitant, wobbling exploration of the garden. Her skin was glistening with sweat. Her toes were soon bristling with broken cactus needles, which cause her pain whenever she moved them. She had explored several medium cacti by now, without any success so far. The skin of her palms and fingers was covered with tiny scratches and punctures. Then she moved to an organ-pipe cactus, whose long fingers were reaching for the sky in all directions. To explore the place in the middle of all the "pipes" meant to reach with her arm between them. This caused her to rub her firm breasts and flank against the sharp needles of the towering cactus. But all that pain was in vain too.

She was beginning to despair. How long had she been searching? She could not evaluate it. In all that time, she had explored a score of cactus but never met with any barrier that could have marked the limits of the garden. Obviously, either she had walked in circles - but she doubted it - or the garden was quite large. She continued her painful trip and encountered a Cholla Teddy bear, whose furry arms were extending in all directions. Touching it with her right hand, she felt the tiny pain she was now used to: a cactus needle. But as she tried to pull away, she found that the needle was actually hooked under her skin. She could not pull it off without pain. Her left hand came to help but her forearm met with another branch of the same cactus and was caught as well. As she tried wider moves, her breasts, belly and thighs too got hooked by the nasty teddy bear. There she was, bent over the furry desert plant, unable to move without feeling pain.


She tried for some time to free herself, to no avail. At last, she decided to ignore the pain and pull as hard as she could. In countless places, her skin was stretched away by the nasty hooked needles. Her breasts were hooked by a dozen of places and were particularly painful. She screamed into her gag. She wanted to stop her effort, but the pain had made her lose her balance. She stepped on a small cactus that jabbed her tender sole with its pointy darts. She tripped backward and, with a muffled scream, fell backwards. She made two steps backwards, moaning and then her heel kicked into a barrel cactus. Her arms waved desperately and she landed hard with her buttocks on the top of the large, evil pin-cushion.


The sharp pain, the multiple one-centimetre-deep puncturing of her buttocks made her silently scream in agony. Her body jerked frantically and she rolled down to land miserably on the ground where she remained sobbing and trembling. This is too much! How can I let him know that I have had enough? she thought, her panicked mind turning in circles. She did not dare to move. In her private night, she was imagining that she was surrounded by countless cacti pointing their cruel darts at her. And that was indeed not so far from the reality. She remained immobile, sobbing, trembling, hoping that her immobility would make Pablo understand there was a problem, that she needed his help and care.


She reached her hands in front of her one more time, and there it was! Something metallic right against her fingers. Exploring it she could distinguish the form of two keys hooked to a ring. They were waiting for her to find them on a small cactus just where she had fallen. She could not believe how lucky she was. She had won her test at the last moment. Eagerly, she grabbed the key, hurried to remove that infernally hot hood from her sweaty and puffy face. But something was amiss. The keys would not budge. She pulled harder to no avail. Her fingers tried to find what was blocking the ring and there, she felt the vice-grip of frustration tighten around her heart. There was a finger hooked into the ring and presently it was pulling the precious keys out of her reach. She had failed. Pablo had picked up the keys from their former place and, approaching her silently, had played this little game to her. She suddenly heard him laugh, just next to her. Not too gently, he helped her to get on her knees.



Chapter 4: Argument

"You must be thirsty under that hood. I'll give you some tuna to refresh yourself. The fruit of nopal, not to be confused with the fish," he said. "But I need to do a couple of things before I remove that hood."


Her left arm was bent at the elbow until her hand was against her shoulder, and a rope was tightly bound around the middle of her upper and lower arms. The same procedure was immediately repeated for the right arm. Then Pablo did the same with her legs. Only then was her hood removed. Her face appeared, drenched in sweat, red and puffy, blinking in the bright sun. As soon as the hood was off her head, she worked her sore jaws and began to plead, "Wow! Pablo, those were two very exciting experiences but I am quite tired by now. Why don't we call it a day, take a good dinner and continue this tomorrow?" She was talking in a croaking voice, because her mouth was very dry now.


As promised, he offered her some cactus fruits to quench her thirst. As she could not use her hands, he put them on the ground and she had to grab and chew them using only her mouth. She was so thirsty that she did not even complain. She devoured the fleshy, sweet red fruits, their juice dribbling down her chin.


"Sure, a nice dinner and we continue our games tomorrow, but first follow me, I'll show you where you will spend the night"


"How am I to follow you, bound as I am?" she asked, smiling. This Pablo can be quite distracted some times, she told to herself.


"Walking on your elbows and knees of course... but first you need some minor attachments."


"No, no. You don't understand me. This won't do. I'm really exhausted. Can you imagine what I have been through this past hour? I really could not crawl like that, I assure you", she protested.


"You will be amazed by the things you are capable of doing."


"Please Pablo. Listen to me. We have not yet set a safe-word. I believe it is time to set one up. And if you persist in not freeing me right now, I'm just going to call it!" she continued, anger starting to point in her voice.


"What will you do? Yell and call me names? It will achieve nothing, only make things worse for you."


"I am exhausted! EX... HAUS... TED! Can you not understand that? I am here for one month. We have all the time to play further and you can believe that I am as eager as you. But if we are to keep it pleasant for both of us, let's keep it reasonable."


"If you keep insisting on not shutting your mouth, I will have to put ring-gag you, and believe me, it will make your next task much more difficult" he threatened.


"Stop that now. That's no longer funny! You know what? The safe-word is RED, and I'm calling it right now: RED RED RED! Now better hurry or I might reconsider playing with you tomorrow. I might well feel too tired, cramped to play. Or even have a bad head-ache. So, now, be reasonable and free me. We'll start from here tomorrow, if you want." Aurelie was now beginning to be really upset. She would never have thought that Pablo would have behaved like a horny teenager. She had imagined him much calmer and master of his emotions.


"That's it!" he snapped. From the bag of toys, Pablo took a wide ring-gag and profited from her angry diatribe to push it into her mouth behind her teeth. She tried to protest and to shake her head to prevent him from buckling the strap but he was holding her tight by her mane and she was already quite helpless. He buckled the strap tightly behind behind her neck.  Her angry protests had been reduced to furious moans and gargling, while she glared madly at him.


Pablo pulled four pink leather sleeves out of his bag. He pulled them one by one up all her four bent limbs, encasing also her hands and feet. They where then closed tightly by a chain circling their open ends and finally secured with four identical padlocks. The leather sheaths were tight against her limbs, adding to her bondage. Then he locked a thick metal collar around her neck, and he attached a chain to its D-ring. Finally, using that chain like a leash, he led her for a walk like a dog.


Chapter 5: The pig pens

Aurelie had not been lying. She was really exhausted, both physically and emotionally. As such this particular crawl was especially difficult. She could only walk on the tip of her knees and elbows and this was a much unusual way of progressing. Much painful too. The leather of her limb sheaths was thick, but not enough to completely protect her from the sharp pebbles that were ubiquitous on the ground. As she crawled behind him, she was grunting and moaning helplessly, while her breasts were swinging grotesquely under her torso.


As they moved on slowly, a very distinctive smell of animal filth was getting stronger and stronger. Eventually they arrived at the place where the pigs were kept. Aurelie was forced to crawl inside, her knees and elbows sinking into the filthy mud. Pablo attached her collar to the end of a long chain that was fixed to a ring in the wall. Both ends of the chains were locked with a strong  padlock. The chain and the rings looked quite thick and heavy, solid enough to contain a bull.


The place was like any pig pen, no matter how much effort you put in maintaining it clean. It was littered with mud and pig dejections that had accumulated for many days. Not far from the wall to which the chain was fixed was a large trough where the grains and leftovers of food were placed, and another half filled with water mixed with dirt and pig drooling. The stench was very strong and Aurelie wrinkled her nose. When she realised that Pablo was intending to leave her for the night, she began to shake her head frantically while emitting strange guttural sounds that could not possibly be human words. She was trampling her stumps furiously in the mud. Added to the strange look on her distended face and threads of saliva swinging from her chin, the sight was rather comical. But Pablo did not let himself distracted and he announced the rules of the new test:


"I have placed the key to your padlocks in the pig feeder over there. I would seek and fetch it as soon as possible if I were you. I shall come here tomorrow to see if you have been able to free yourself. If you manage to do it, please take a shower outside before entering the hacienda. I would not want you to ruin my carpets with pig shit. I'm told that the stench can never be completely washed out. Oh! and one last thing: remember that you earned that ring-gag yourself. I had warned you..." And on these last words he left, leaving Aurelie alone in the midst of the pigs.


She was outraged, shocked. How does he dare to do that to me? He will hear news from me tomorrow, as soon as I get out of this pit! she fumed inwardly. But for now she felt very helpless and passably ridiculous. The most humiliating was perhaps this thread of drool that kept dangling from her chin. She shook her head to get rid of a hair-lock that was sticking to her face across her eyes and looked around, assessing her situation. It seemed that  the chain was long enough to allow her access to any part of the pen, at least if she could straighten the chain enough. Of course, maintaining that chain straight would be an effort by itself, notwithstanding several animals thrice her weight walking around and even stepping on the chain. There was a dozen of pigs of various sizes. Five of them were really enormous, probably weighting about 180 kg. The animals did not seem to be interested in her. Actually, they were presently gathering around the food trough which Pablo had just filled with rotten vegetables and grains.


This reminded her what Pablo had said: the key was in the trough. A sudden fear gripped her bowels: could those gluttonous animals swallow the key? Looking at how they were gulping down the food, it seemed quite likely a possibility. Aurelie hurried toward the trough. With her pink stumps, now spotted with mud and her round mouth, she did not look entirely alien to this foetid place. The hungry pigs were swarming around the trough and she had to force her way among the smallest individuals. She finally reached the food.


It was stinking, disgusting and she felt her stomach heaving. Hundreds of flies were flying around, crawling on her skin, on her face, entering her gaping mouth. Those were those same flies that had been crawling on the pig backs and on the rotten food. The thought made her feel nauseous again. The pigs were stomping beside her, pushing her in all directions. She looked again at the trough, trying to gather some courage. The key was somewhere there, among that foul matter. And she had to look for it.


She knelt up and rested her arms on the rim of the trough. Pigs were all around her, grunting and wolfing the food down. The feeder was already half empty. She looked all around for any glimpse of metal. It was hard to say among all those hungry beasts. Taking a deep breath, she let her arms slip inside the trough until she rested on her armpits, with her breasts pressed against the rusty wall of the trough, on the outside. She began to use her elbows to push the vegetables around while scanning for the key. It was so gross. Here she was among the pigs, hurrying around their food as if she wanted to eat it as well. The thought was as revolting as the stench. As she explored the food, the tip of her long hair was soaking into the trough.


Pushing the pigs around her, she tried to move along the trough. It was emptying quite rapidly. Aurelie was afraid at the idea the key might have already been swallowed. But she reflected that Pablo had probably dropped the key in the feeder before pouring the food. The key would then be somewhere close to the bottom. She had already explored two thirds of the trough, but the last third was under the power of the biggest animals. There was no way she could displace them.


Life among animals is always survival of the fittest, meaning fight for your food. As the stronger males saw the strange quadruped approaching their end of the trough, hoarding around at their food, they did what they always do in such situations: bite and try to push the other animal away. Aurelie was no match for them. Without the help of her hands and feet she was reduced to a pig. A smallish pig at that. As they tried to bite her, she quickly moved away, while keeping her eyes focused on that part of the trough she had not yet explored. A this moment, one of the smaller pigs jumped into the trough. He began to squeaked and squirm as it was also bitten by the others,  and doing so he was moving all the food from side to side. In the end, he ran away into a corner of the pen.


Aurelie felt a bit of despair at this sight. Everything had to be done from the start. But then she saw a positive side to it. Maybe the piglet would have brought the key out of the territory of the strong males where she did not dare to go. Thus she started again, rummaging with her elbows through the foul stuff. By now it had gotten a shiny sheen from all the pig saliva. And from her own drool, Aurelie realised. She was by now a sad sight. Her naked body was all soiled, her hair was matted and clogged with dubious remains. She was covered by a swarm of flies that kept trying to get into her nostrils, mouth and eyes, while bugging also her sex and anus. She no longer matter now. More disturbing was the pig snout snorting near her ass, which she kept pushing away but somehow always came back.


And suddenly she saw it! A glimpse of metal. Already it had disappeared under a leaf of salad. Aurelie became frantic. She climbed into the trough, among a concerto of angry grunting and squeaking. She felt snouts hitting her from all sides. A pig bate at her butt. But she did not care. She was rummaging frantically with her elbow. And there it was again, glistening like a gold nugget in the mud. She plunged her face right into the disgusting brew and tried to catch it with her tongue. With her jaws so widely and so achingly wide apart, it was no easy task. The key kept gliding away and she followed it, looking very much like a pig hunting for truffles.


However, at last she reached the end of the trough. The key could go no farther. Her tongue managed to push the key into her mouth. Once it was done, she quickly scrambled out of the feeder, keeping her head high all the way. May I not swallow the key myself, she prayed. Dragging the heavy chain behind her, she went to a solitary corner. There she considered her new challenge: opening a padlock with only the help of her tongue...


If she turned her head entirely to the right, she could see the padlock holding the sheath closed there. It was in reach of her tongue, so there was hope. Carefully, she lined the key along the tip of her tongue and then she stretched it out, her eyes crossed over the tiny padlock. She slowly pushed the key against the hole, hoping it would enter it. But the key kept moving on her tongue and she had to reposition it. Five times she tried, and five times she missed. At the sixth attempt, the key seemed to enter the hole. She moved her tongue so that she could push it further into the key-hole.


It was a delicate affair. The key had hardly entered the lock. As Aurelie moved her tongue, the key tipped and fell. It landed into the mix of mud and pig shit that was covering the whole pen. Aurelie's eyes grew wide with horror and frustration. Quickly, she lowered her face into the mud. She could still see a bit of the key emerging from the horrendous litter. She plunged her face into it, her tongue sticking out, trying to recover the key. All she managed to do was to push it deeper into the filth. After a moment, she had completely lost the key. She began to rummage around with her face, trying to locate the key. From time to time she could see it, and then it disappeared again.


Her strange behaviour had attracted the attention of the biggest pigs. They had finished their meal and were looking for more. To them, Aurelie's action could mean only one thing: she had found more food into the mud. They ran towards her with all the speed their fat carcasses could manage. Soon Aurelie was bumped away by their sturdy snouts. They were rummaging around wildly, tramping the mud helplessly. Aurelie was sitting a little farther, sobbing silently, waiting for them to go away.


When they finally did, the place had been trampled and overturned on a desperately large surface. Aurelie had no choice but to rummage among the mud and pig shit, looking for the precious key. She worked hard for one hour. By then she was really a mess. A casual observer might not have distinguished from the pigs. At the very least he would not have seen her as a human being. She was covered with mud from toe to hair and was stinking like a true pig. And she had not found the key. By now it was too late. The sun had set down and the darkness was growing fast.


Soon the night fell completely. Aurelie rolled herself into a ball and tried to sleep. She was so tired that managed to fall asleep, in spite of the cramps growing inside her limbs and jaws. She kept waking up because of the pain though, and also because of the mosquitoes. When the sun came up the next morning, she was hardly rested and she offered a very miserable sight to Pablo as he came to check her. I hope the bastard at least took care to keep a spare key, Aurelie thought as she saw him approaching.

Chapter 6: Horseback riding

"Which of you is Aurelie?"


Aurelie was awoken with a start. She had been rolled in a ball in the filth. She stared around her, looking quite shocked and lost. She shook her head and the mass of sticky mud that was her hair hardly moved, sticking to her face and back. There was hardly a bit of her skin that was not covered in mud. The stinking coating had dried here and there. She moaned as she realised this had not been a nightmare and glared at Pablo's joyful face.



"Hope you had a nice sleep and a nourishing breakfast. Today we are going to relax a little with some horseback riding," he continued, feigning not to notice the poisoned bullets her eyes were shooting at him.


Without even entering the filthy pen, Pablo unlocked the heavy chain from the wall ring and coiled it until he had a two-metre-long leash. He yanked on it, causing the heavy steel collar to dig into the French girl's throat and forcing her to crawl on her stumps. Ignoring her fierce, furious squeals, he tugged her along the long path to the Hacienda. They passed by the cactus garden and a beautiful garden adorned with softly chanting fountains, statues of bound nymphs and colourful flowers and then continued along the path leading to the stables. Pablo was a wealthy man since his Cum-Over-That-Pic smart-phone application had over-flooded the market of mobile perverts. Of course the poor Aurelie could hardly appreciate her host's tastes in her present state. She was kept constantly focused on keeping her balance as she crawled on her stumps along the rough paths. Her knees and elbows were killing her while her hands and feet had long lost any feeling, with the scarce blood supply they were receiving.




It was early morning but the sun was already quite warm and Aurelie had worked a decent coat of sweat under the mud and pig-shit crust. She was panting heavily, hurrying two metres behind Pablo, yanked hard by her neck whenever she was too slow. Her dangling breasts kept bouncing madly under her, causing a dull pain in her mammaries. At last they reached the stables and he led her into one of the stalls which was occupied by a beautiful black stallion. Exhausted by the long, difficult crawl, Aurelie let herself fall into the hay, panting and aching. She had renounced to protest and plead by now.


Pablo removed the now dirty sleeves that had been holding her arms bent since the last day, and quickly tied a rope around each wrist. As the blood rushed back painfully into her limbs, Aurelie moaned through her ring gag. She tried to move her arms, to prevent Pablo from tying the rope but her muscles were paralysed by cramps and would not obey her. Pablo pulled on the ropes, forcing her to hobble on her still-sheathed legs until she was right under the horse. Doing so, he forced her arms to unfold and Aurelie screamed loud. It felt as if he had just broken her elbow joint. She had been confined in this position for so long, using her elbows to support her weight that the bones were blocked in position. Pablo did not care as he passed the ropes on each side of the animal and pulled on them until Aurelie's chest and face were pressed against the rear part of the stallion's belly. Then he tied the strands together over the mount's back. Aurelie was moaning softly, her arms helpless once again, balanced on her knee caps. It  looked very much as if she were hugging the horse tight.


After having checked that the knots were secure, Pablo repeated the operation of the girl's legs, tying the ankle ropes over the base of the stallion's neck. Finally, he connected the two ropes by a third one going along the animal's spine. Aurelie was now hanging by her four limbs under the belly of the horse, her head facing its rear. Through the stench of the pig-litter crust that was covering her body, she could smell the strong odour of the horse, as well as feel the short, stiff hair of its belly rubbing against her front. She was not pressed too tightly against the be furry belly. About two centimetres were separating her from the horse.


Pablo then mounted on his mare, tying the stallion's reins to his saddle. With a kick of heel, he started the ride at an easy pace. “If by the time we return to the stables, you are riding that stallion on its back, like the beautiful Amazon I expect you to be, then you will have passed the test and you will spend the rest of the day and tomorrow relaxing in my jacuzzi. If you fail the test, there will be no rest for you, and you'll be subjected to a new test,” he said.



Aurelie was swinging slowly under the horse's belly, in rhythm with its leisurely pace. She was still trying to recover some strength in her itching and cramped limbs. In her position, she could not see much. Her horizon was limited to the animal's lower belly. If she turned her head, her arms were blocking half of her field of sight. As they walked gently, progressively she felt her limbs getting stronger. She began to flex them, testing her strength and the extent of her freedom. With her four limbs spread and hugging the wide hairy belly, she had not much purchase. Still she thought it would feasible to climb up the horse side if she proceeded carefully.



She flexed right arm and leg while pushing on her left-hand limbs. Her fingers grasped the animal's hair to avoid gliding back down. She then stretched her right-hand limbs higher again. Progressively, centimetre by centimetre, she was climbing up the right-hand flank of the stallion. Her head was beginning to emerge from under the belly when Pablo, twisting her torso on his saddle to look at her, said, “Maybe you don’t notice it anymore, but you really really stink. We gotta fix that”


Saying so, Pablo led the animals into a river. Aurelie tried to climb faster up the horse side but she was not quick enough. The cold water engulfed her and soon she was completely underwater. Pablo was leading his horse slowly and it took an infinite time to cross the river. Aurelie had taken a deep breath and was holding tight on the animal's hair, resisting the strong current that was trying to make her drop back down. Her mouth was kept wide open by the ring-gag and she gulped down copious amounts of water. As the horses emerged on the opposite bank of the river, the French girl had managed to maintain her grip. However, she was soaked to the bone and dripping water on the ground. Her hair was matted together and its weight, added to that of her heavy steel collar, was forcing her head down at strange angle. The water had also washed her thoroughly and only some deeply encrusted mud was still soiling her body.



She only had the time to take a couple of deep panting breaths before Pablo reined his mare back across the river. This time, the body of the stallion was somewhat protecting Aurelie from the current, but her muscles were beginning to tire. She doubted that she could resist much longer like that. But she succeeded and when the stallion climbed up the bank, Aurelie was still clinging to its flank. Pablo grinned and made his mount perform a new turn. When she saw that they were once again heading for the river, Aurelie protested loudly. This is unfair! He is going to dip me back and forth until I can no longer hold! she fumed.


Once again she received the full force of the river on her body. After two long forced dives, her lungs were burning and her muscles tiring. This time she could not hold any longer. The whirling water pulled her down, back to her original position. This time, Pablo hardly moved out of the river. He spun his horse back immediately upon setting foot on dry land and Aurelie hardly had the time to fill her lungs. This fourth crossing was the worst. It seemed to last for hours. Aurelie's lungs were craving for air and she breathed in some water. When she emerged at last, she vomited half a litre of liquid.


The horses were walking again along a trail. Aurelie was drenched and devastated. She kept coughing and puking water. Her head was hanging loosely under her, her long, soaked hair wiping the ground dust. She was helplessly trying to recover her breathing, quite unable to do anything else.


Things definitely got worse when Pablo spurred his mare into a gentle trot. The shaking movement made the girl jump around and tug on her limbs with each step. The coils of rope were digging into her wrists and ankles, her own weight yanking on them. Aurelie had somewhat recovered from her half-drowning but was now quite unable to climb again up the animal's flanks. She was holding the ropes tight in her hands and was trying her best to prevent the rope from cutting into her flesh. She screamed, trying to make Pablo understand that she could not bear any more but either he did not hear her, or did not care.



Pablo then decided to push the horses into a full gallop. Cruelly, he led them over all types of vegetation. The rhythm was now smoother, much less jerky than the trot but the speed as so high that whenever a blade of grass or a sapling was tall enough to reach Aurelie's body, she was severely whipped. The worst that those were her crotch and buttocks that were the most exposed. Sharp branches scratched the whole length of her back, leaving long, thin red lines from her butt to her shoulders. Her head was constantly yanked as her hair got entangled into bushes and thorns. Strands of hair were torn from her scalp, causing additional agony. The worst was when the stallion jumped over bushes: Aurelie's body got then slapped and scratched with incredible force. It seemed to her that her limbs were going to be stretched  longer, or even torn from their sockets.



However, the horses were rapidly tiring at this gate. Pablo slowed down to a fast pace. The stallion was now sweating abundantly, filling Aurelie's nostril with the strong smell and dripping perspiration on her helpless naked body. Her belly and breasts were red from continuous rubbing against the horse stiff under-belly hair. By now, Aurelie was quite shocked and exhausted. Her crotch, butt and back were like in fire and all she wished for was for the mad jerking and bouncing of her body to stop. She was moaning continuously.


Pablo noticed a clearing sporting several dense patches of nettles. He head toward them and made sure to pass several times over each patch, slowly enough to make sure Aurelie's limp body would remain for a few seconds in contact with the poisonous invisible needles. To the throbbing of the severe beating and whipping was added the burning and itching of those nasty natural toxins. Aurelie's tenderised flesh began to burst with punk bumps that were driving her mad with the urge to scratch them.


But the time had come to turn around and head back to the hacienda. The horses were tired and Pablo was leading them at a comfortable pace. He looked frequently over his shoulder and whenever it seemed to him that Aurelie was trying to grip her mount's hair, she spurred her mare into a trot, until the weakened French redhead had been forced to let go off her hold. He was now quite sure that she would fail the test and began to whistle merrily the "Cucurrucucu Paloma" theme. But more humiliation was in store for his guest...



This was a warm day and the stallion had now passed nearly one hour behind Pablo's mare, her genitalia only a couple of metres in front of his nostrils. As they walked at a leisurely pace, it started to have an effect on the male horse. To Aurelie's dismay, she saw something starting to move between the horse's legs, growing bigger and bigger. The stallion's dark penis was swelling and throbbing to an incredible size.  It soon started to slap and bounce against her face. All the bound girl could do was to turn her face away, trying to prevent the stinking, disgusting rod of male flesh from entering her wide-gaping, ring-gagged mouth.



When Pablo noticed what was happening, he almost fell from his mare from laughing. Aurelie's disgusted face was so comical. He shortened the stallion's reins to bring him closer to the mare's rear, and hopefully increase his arousal. The manoeuvre succeeded beyond his hopes. Soon enough the cock had reached a shocking length and was now wedged between Aurelie's planturous breasts and the stallion's belly. Aurelie's chest was slick with her and the horse's sweat and her breasts were brought together by the position of her arms. Trapped between the greasy mammaries, moving back and forth in rhythm with the walk, the giant cock continued to grow, getting both thicker and longer. Aurelie could not believe her eyes. She would never have thought a horse penis could be that long. Its stench was horrendous and as bead of sweat dripped from it onto her face she was on the verge of puking.


After a few minutes, she felt a warm, sticky liquid burst all over her chest and navel. A strong, foul, musky stench wafted toward her face. She began to retch, disgusted beyond all limits. Worse: when the exhausted, giant cock began to shrink, it left a long smear of sperm along her sternum and began to drip all over her face, in spite of her desperate attempts to twist her head out of the way. It remained like that, resting limply on her cheek, drooling its revolting fluid on her throat, until they reached the stables. She did not dare to move her head, fearing that the cock might touch the inside of her mouth. As they entered the stallion's stall, Aurelie was relieved. She knew she had once again failed her test, but she would at least get rid of that horrible animal.

Chapter 7: In the sewers

Pablo untied her legs, the sudden change in the weight distribution of her body causing her to push her face into the animal's crotch. Her eyes were pressing right into the large, hairy testicles while the cock was dangling between her breasts. Aurelie felt her ankles, and then her knees being fixed tightly together with several leather straps. Then a belt was fixed to her waist before her wrists were finally released. Before she had time to react, they were quickly placed at her sides and fixed there with two tight leather manacles that protruded from her waist band. In a matter of seconds, Aurelie had once again been made helpless with no possibility to protest or safe-word out.


He carried her like a bag of potatoes to one of the entrances of the main house of the hacienda, and then down some stairs into the basement. Aurelie was struggling and kicking on his shoulder, twisting her body like a caterpillar and uttering ridiculous sounds through her gaping and drooling gagged mouth. Pablo felt her sweat and some of the stallion's cum stick to his colourful shirt. With a curse, he realised that he might have to trash it afterwards. He dropped her on the floor, next to a 20-kg stone with a  chain fixed to it. Pablo wrapped the chain twice around her ankles, over the leather straps, and then once around the coils, before padlocking it to itself, leaving about 50 centimetres of chain between her ankles and the rough rock ball. Then he opened a grating in the floor that was covering a steep tube leading to the centuries old sewer system. He pushed the heavy rock with his feet until it fell into the round hole. Aurelie's feet were yanked hard and Pablo, pulled her until she was sitting with her legs dangling in the hole, stretched down by the stone. The scared girl was still frantically trying to communicate with him, pleading with her eyes, making strange sounds and contorting her strapped-down arms. The stench coming out of the hole was auguring well about what could be found at its bottom. Her heart was beating fast. What's this new ordeal. Doesn't he understand I have had enough? Or is he just going to trash me into the septic pit never to be found? she was telling to herself.


"Down that slide is the sewer system of the hacienda," Pablo said, in the same pedantic voice he used to speak about the ancient Mayas and the geological curiosities of the region. "Your task will be to search for a way out. I'll give you a few hours of head start before coming to look for you. If I find you first, you'll have failed this challenge and will have to face a new one. Oh, by the way, I'm going to lock this grating as soon as you'll have plunged in, so don't bother climbing back."


Ignoring his guest's pathetic squealing, he grabbed her under her armpits and was about to let her glide down the hole when he let her fall back on her butt. Aurelie let out a sigh or relief.


"Oh! I almost forgot this!" he said, pulling a small booklet from his back pocket. Aurelie tried to see what it was in the dim light and finally recognized a French passport. My passport! The bastard has looked through my purse and luggage! She frowned and glared at Pablo, scandalised at this breach of her privacy. But Pablo just ignored her and continued, "I'm gonna flush this down a random toilet. If you manage to find it during your exploration, make sure to take it with you. Mexican custom officers will never let you return to France without it, I'm afraid. You'll probably have to wait a couple of weeks for a new passport to be sent to you. But never fear! Should that happen you can always count on my legendary hospitality!"


Aurelie started to utter an angry protest while shaking her head but Pablo immediately cut her short by pushing her into the hole. The poor French girl tried to bend her body at an angle. She managed to hook her body over the rim of the hole, even though the heavy stone was pulling hard on her bound legs. Mercilessly, Pablo pulled on her filthy hair and forced her to unbend enough to slide some more into the narrow hole. He pushed on her the top of her head with his shoe, pushing her even deeper. Then he used the heavy grating to press on her scared face. There was a loud clang. Aurelie's terror could be seen on her face through the holes between the thick bars as the Mexican caballero clicked a thick padlock in place. Aurelie remained a few more seconds, looking pitifully at him through the grid, but she was sliding down helplessly, pulled by the stone chained to her feet, her skin sliding on the greasy walls. Then, with a heart-freezing screech, she disappeared in the darkness, sucked into the stinking bowels of the hacienda.


During a couple of seconds, Aurelie felt herself gliding down into pitch darkness. She could feel bricks rubbing against her skin on all sides. The stench was increasing. And suddenly she landed into water; filthy, smelly water. She was inside a narrow tube of bricks, half filled with a dark liquid that streaming down around her bound body. A dim light was coming from somewhere in front of her, just enough to see her grim surroundings. The stench was suffocating. She was laying in it, the foul liquid reaching the middle of her body. She was on her belly and she had to keep her head high to breathe. If taking in this air thick with miasmas and putrefied gases could still be called breathing. Her hair was soaking in the squalid liquid. The air, the water, the walls were cold. The gutter was so narrow that her shoulders, arms and hips were pressing against the walls on both sides.


Aurelie decided to follow the stream. It had to get out somewhere and this was her best way to find and exit without getting lost in the underground maze. Moreover, it was probably going to get wider down. She rolled on her back and then tried to crawl forward. She flexed her legs and felt the big stone dragging against the floor. At some point, she felt her knee touching the ceiling and could not fold her legs any more. Then she pushed on her heels while rocking and twisting her torso, slowly gliding forward, until her legs were flat in the filthy water again. This was going to be a slow crawl...


The leather straps were digging and biting into her flesh as she moved. Her muscles were bulging in between them as they tried to work, causing more pain. The bricks were scratching and chaffing her skin. Her eyes were burning in the strong, foul gases that filled the air. Aurelie was exhausted and aching from everywhere. But she was eager to leave this place. It seemed that Pablo would never leave her alone until she would have succeeded one of his so-called tests. She was not sure whether he had grown crazy or if he had planned this from the beginning. Her only hope seemed that he would recollect his self if she managed to win a challenge.


And thus, Aurelie was crawling in the filth-loaded liquid streaming down the sewers. After having crawled down for a dozen of metres, the tunnel was joined by another one and the next segment was a bit wider and higher. There was more water as well, but as it could spread itself over a wider section, its force seemed weaker. The bound woman could crawl a little faster here as the ceiling was high enough to allow ample room to her knees. The floor seemed covered with a slick carpet of bacteria and it was easier to glide her back and butt along it. It was as close to surfing as one could get with a heavy stone chained to one's feet. She rapidly tobogganed down that slide for thirty more metres. A few other sewer pipes joined the main course adding more filthy water. Some showered her from above, splashing all over her front side, soaking her thoroughly in their ordure.


The level of the water was growing around her until only her firm breasts and her face emerged. But Aurelie did not care. Actually, she was welcoming it. Indeed, this was making her and the stone lighter and easier to move. Also, it meant that she was soon going to reach the outlet of the sewer system. And finally, the more water she collected, the more chance she had to find her passport. The only disadvantage was that now and then a wave of putrid matter fell into her gaping mouth, sending her into a frenzy of coughing and puking, forcing her to turn on her belly to vomit the filth.


As she progressed, the stench in the air became heavier, thicker. Putrefaction gases were beginning to make her cough and brought tears to her burning eyes. There also was a roar growing louder and louder. And then, at the end of those wider 30-metres, the tunnel suddenly funnelled into a much narrower pipe where the water was rushing and swirling. The stench had grown atrocious, to the limit of what was bearable. Aurelie was panting as she had to process four times more air in order to filter out the oxygen her body was needing. She stopped a moment at the entrance, trying to peer into the tunnel. Nothing could be seen...


Anyway, I must try! she decided. She took a dozen of quick breath and then entered the tunnel. Her body was now taking most of the place and the water began to pack above her and whirl around her limbs. She had to lift her head and press her face against the slime-covered ceiling in order to keep her nose out of the water. As for her gagged mouth, it was almost constantly below the surface and the horrid taste of urine, feces and trash saturated her tongue and nose receptors. She tried to crawl as fast as she could, dragging her stone behind her. As soon as her legs entered the narrow section, she could hardly lift knees and had to progress in short, fast moves.


Three metres later, the top of her skull banged against something metallic. She twisted her torso and neck ,trying to see what was blocking her way. The waft of toxic gas that hit her face made her nauseous. She blinked, her eyes barely above the filthy brew surface. There, two thick bars crossed through the tunnel were barring her way. On the other side, the water was cascading into a large, deadly septic pit. There was no obvious outlet, and anyway the bars were too sturdy to be trespassed. Aurelie realised she would have to go back.


This was more easily conceived than realised. The pressure of the sewer water tended to push her against the bars. And now she had to push the stone instead of dragging it. Added to the burning of her lungs and the nausea she was feeling, it made for the most inhumanly atrocious three metres she had ever crossed. When at last her head emerged out of that dark rectum of bricks, she was utterly exhausted. She puked several times before being able to recover some countenance.


In the wider tunnel, she managed to turn so as to be perpendicular to the sewer axis. In that position, her body curled over itself along the curvature of the tunnel, she rested a moment, coughing and vomiting on her breasts, the bile being immediately washed away by the current. She took a couple of minutes to rest and recover, and gather new strength. She had been following a wrong strategy and would have now to crawl upstream and explore the sewers ramification.


She was at this point of her reflections when she saw something floating on the stream in her direction. She soon realised that it was something that looked very much like a drenched passport, probably hers. It was rushing toward her rapidly. Immediately, she manoeuvred herself to place her right hand on the probably trajectory of the identity paper. Bound as she was, it was no easy matter. Alas, at the last moment, a small, short-lived whirlpool made it deviate from its course and pass out of her reach. With a scream and a huge effort, she yanked her legs and the stone chained to them down stream. She clamped the precious booklet between her bound knees and the sloping wall. Yes! I got it! But now it was another matter to grab it. Slowly, carefully, she began to bend over so as to bring her fingers closer to the passport. But doing so, she felt the passport begin glide again. She froze, hardly daring to breathe. But anyway, she could feel the passport being pushed by the water, and suddenly it was wiped away. This time, she managed to catch it between her feet. But the water pressure was so high there that again she felt it slide out of her grip. Before she had time to do anything, her papers were washed away. With a scream of horror, she saw them whirling and disappearing into the narrow tunnel, lost for ever. Her scream of rage echoed throughout the sewer system.


Aurelie looked at it with an expression of bewilderment. She could not believe that Pablo had indeed put his threat to execution. He has dumped my passport, the bastard! He really does not want me to leave this country, that barbarous sod! She was now realising that she might never get out even of this hacienda, or of those sewers. Does he really intend to come and rescue me? This guy is a sociopath! A serial killer! And Internet predator! How can I have been so stupid! I did not even tell anybody whom I was going to see in Mexico! Everybody thinks I am touring on my own. It might take weeks before someone finds my secret Google account and read the mails I have exchanged with him. Shall I survive until then?


She let herself slide down into the water again and began crawling back on her steps, upstream. Six metres later she reached the first affluent tunnel. She had decided to explore them methodically and thus she entered it, dragging her stone behind her. The chain was rubbing into her raw flesh now and it was getting increasingly painful. The tunnel was narrower of course and once again she found herself having some difficulties with her knees hitting the ceiling. It was tortuous too and she had to contort her body in S shapes to pass some of the turns. The water was carrying pieces of food detritus, as if it were coming from the kitchen. The stench had progressively switched from that of public toilets to rotten vegetables.


She began to hear little squeaks ahead. And suddenly, just after a turn of the tunnel she saw them: four fat, ugly, black rats were busy rummaging around a heap of rotten potatoes somehow blocked in the middle of the tunnel. Aurelie was probably as scared by them as they were by her. She felt her hair stand up on her scalp and froze. The rats too froze for a very short moment, and then, with sharp screeches ran away, only to stop a little farther and peek at her with their little red eyes. Slowly, Aurelie began to back up, away from the hungry rodents. The tunnel was too narrow for her to turn around and thus she had to crawl backward, pushing the 20-kg stone with her feet. When they saw that the girl was retreating, the rats felt encouraged. They began to follow her, and even to get closer, their pointy noses sniffing around. The air was thick with Aurelie fear pheromones. She could almost see them grinning cruelly at her.


They came closer and closer, prudent, always on the verge of leaping away. Aurelie, with her hands strapped to her flanks could do nothing to scare her. She tried to scream, and it did scare them a couple of times, but then the intelligent creatures understood that barking was not equivalent to biting and they did not seem to care any longer. When they felt strong enough to get within centimetres from her sweaty face, Aurelie began to panic. With her mouth kept achingly wide open by the ring gag, she was totally defenceless. She began to wipe her head from side to side, threatening to knock the rats or crush them against the walls. But in fact, her moves were way too slow to do any bad, and the rats knew it well.


One of them ran and leaped past her waving face. Aurelie screamed a high-pitched screech as she felt tiny claws scrambling on her shoulder and then on her back. Then she fell its teeth, biting hard into her shoulder. She screamed again. A rivulet of blood dripped down. The three remaining rats got frantic as they smelled it. All together, they leaped at her. One of them even jumped on her face and climbed it, using her lips, nose and eyebrows to support its progress. Its paws got so near her eyes that she had to close them to protect them from scratches. Aurelie shook her head frantically to get rid of the intruder but the more she struggled, the more it embedded its nails into her skin. It got interested with her tongue, which was clearly visible in her wide-gaping mouth. Closing its hands on the screaming girl's upper lip, it shoved its head into the wide, noisy orifice. Aurelie felt its whiskers inside her mouth and howled even louder.


Meanwhile, the two others had reached her firm breasts and had settled on them, in spite of her fierce bucking. They were rummaging around, sniffing on her breasts. The first rat, the most curious of them all, got tired of her shoulder and went down her sternum and belly to explore her crotch, attracted by the musky smell that exuded from there. It began to nose the fleshy petals of her labia, which seemed quite succulent to it. Aurelie was yanking frantically on the straps holding her wrists. Her arms were contorting on her flanks, her fingers were reaching for her crotch.  The rat's tail was agonizingly close to her fingers, but just out of reach. She was screaming loud  and sweating profusely. She kept banging her knees against the ceiling as she wanted to kick the rodents away. Suddenly, she felt a sharp pain exploding in her right nipple. The rat had just shoved its teeth into it. The pain rendered Aurelie mad with fear. She managed to roll over, crushing the two rats that were on her chest under her weight. Scared, the two remaining attackers, leapt from her body and scrambled away as fast as they could.


Aurelie was panting hard and trembling. She did not dare to explore further that tunnel. Instead, she crawled back to the main tunnel. Once there, she progressed a few metres upstream and then climbed into an affluent whose water looked more transparent, less smelly. This time it seemed that she was progressing in the right direction. At least, the stench was getting less strong and sometimes she even felt a waft of fresh air passing over, as if that tunnel was somehow connected to the outdoor. Even the water was clearer. It was more muddy than really filthy.


Unfortunately, the sewer tube was also getting narrower and narrower. She had less and less room to move her legs and at some point she could not even lift her knees enough to push on her heels, as she used to do. Still, she could feel the fresh air more definitely by now. She must be close to an opening. She could even hear the pigs grunting as she was probably not far from their pen. With difficulty, she twisted herself until she had rolled over to her belly. In that position, she could use her toes to push herself forward. Dragging the heavy stone had just become much harder. Moreover, her breasts kept being dragged and flattened under her chest too, causing additional suffering. But the prospect of being free soon was giving her the motivation and courage to continue her progression.


After crawling on her belly for a dozen metres, she reached a point where further progress was almost impossible. To make things worse, there was a small indentation in the wall where a brick had broken and been washed away,  and the rock and chain she was pulling behind her had got stuck. She pulled and yanked on the chain with all the strength of her legs but she could not dislodge it. Crawling forward in that narrow tube had been difficult enough, but moving backwards seemed almost impossible.


As she was squirming vainly trying to crawl back by pushing on her shoulders and breasts, she heard a metallic sound some distance in front of her, followed by the sound of rushing water. A long stream of filthy water whose stench reminded her of the pigs pen hit her in the face and whirled along her body. For long second the tunnel was overflown, leaving her airless and forcing itself into her gaping mouth and then down-to her stomach. As soon as she could lift her head out of the stream, she began to puke uncontrollably, vomiting litre after litre of the brownish liquid. Once the nasty tsunami was gone, she realised that it had pushed her a little backwards. Her feet were now resting against the stone, instead of being 50 cm in front of it. She was once again soaked with pig urine but at least she had now a hope of getting herself unstuck. Using her toes and the ball of her feet, she managed to roll the stone backward some more. This allowed to crawl backward again and repeat the operation.


She back-crawled like that for ten metres. The exercise proved even more difficult than moving forward. When she arrived to the point where she could again roll over on her back, she was exhausted. Her face was extinguished under the filthy entangled mess of her hair and it had become difficult for her her to breathe normally. As she was gathering her last forces, she felt the stone rolling away from her, and then her legs were yanked. She was dragged backward on some distance, unable to see what was happening. The dragging stopped and she managed to roll on her back again and look beyond her legs. A flash-light was blinding her, but she could distinguish a man whose face was hidden under a gas mask. He was wearing rubber pants and boots. She recognized Pablo. He had found her before she had managed to reach the exit. She felt her heart sink as she realised she had failed the test once again...

Chapter 8: Birthday party


"Glad you decided to stay with me some more" were Pablo's first words as she removed the gas mask after he had dragged her out of the sewers. "This is Friday evening, so I have decided to give you some rest. There will be no new test now."


He carried her to a long courtyard and left her on the ground in the middle of it. He then took a hose and began to clean the stinking girl. The cold, powerful stream of water hit her like a fist, pushing her on the stone floor. He was aiming especially at her sensitive regions. Aurelie could hardly breathe in the strong jet. Her skin and flesh were hollowing where the water was hitting her. But progressively, most of the filth was ousted from her body. He finally cut off the water, leaving her shivering and dripping on the floor.


"Remember I promised you a jacuzzi? Imagine the comforting streams of warm liquid... Well, rejoice: I'm willing to let you experience something similar to that!"



She was then dragged away along the hacienda, while Pablo whistled La Bamba. He led her to a door that led into a small room, or rather a closet. The only piece of furniture in that room was a table. A hole was pierced through the back wall. The Mexican caballero pulled the table a little and then made Aurelie lie on her back over it. He fixed her waist belt to the table by means of several turns of rope. Another rope over her breast and under her armpits finished the binding of the French girl, now securely attached to the table.


He started pushing the table, making sure her head was aligned with the hole on the wall. She noticed that its was covered with a rubber membrane with a narrower orifice through it. He pushed until her mane and then her whole head were squeezed through the orifice. It was dark in the other room, she could not see anything, but there was a smell of ammonia in the damp air. While she was trying to find where she was, she felt her knees and ankles being released from the straps, and quickly reattached so that they were hanging from the wall, her legs spread open, her crotch fully exposed and somewhat raised from the edge of the table. Pablo gave her a gentle caress on her very dirty private parts and then left.


Aurelie tried to move. She pulled on her legs, contorted her torso, but she could not move. She was well secured and would not leave this position without help. How long am I going to wait like that? The position was not really comfortable. The table was hard against her back, and her head was hanging upside down in the dark. She could feel that her wet hair was not hanging freely but was resting on some support, not far under her head. She clacked her tongue and then noise reverberated easily around her. This allowed her to guess that she was in a medium-sized, mostly empty room. She lifted her head to relieve the pressure on the nap of her neck but could not help the position for long and let it go down, the back of her head resting against something hard and flat.


A few minutes later, Aurelie heard a door being opened in the room where her head was, and she moaned in misery as the light was turned on and she realised where she was: it was a bathroom, more specifically a men’s bathroom, even more specifically, her head was hanging upside-down in the middle of an urinal. Her once proud hair was now soaked with the stinking substance that was stagnating in the bottom of the recipient. She shook her head in disbelief and uttered a protest, her eyes blinking in the cold light. She recognized Pablo, grinning at her from the entrance.


“Today is the birthday of one of the hacienda workers, and we are having a party," he said. The beers are already cold, only waiting for the men to finish work and come over. And there will be a birthday surprise behind the other door. Well, for him and all the other guests who want to take a part of you. I must make sure everything is ready." Pablo went to the other door, where the rest of her body was fixed, and with soapy water and a sponge, he started cleaning the smelly crotch area of the French girl.



About an hour had passed, when she could hear 'banda' music and laughter on the outside. Suddenly, everything got quiet, soon followed by a burst of laughter and whistling. Aurelie did not understand Spanish language but she easily recognized words like "puta" and "culo" (whore and ass). Pablo had just opened the door to the closet in front of the 20 rancheros gathered for the celebration.


Manuel, the man whose birthday was thus celebrated, entered the closet and closed the door behind him. He started by fondling her pussy, and then with not much foreplay, she felt the tip of his cock pushing against her sex. She tried to protect herself, to close her thighs, but her legs were inescapably bound apart and there was nothing she could to prevent the man from raping her. She could not even see his face, which somehow was even more degrading. She was quite unprepared and her vagina was as dry as dust. The big ranchero's cock forced its way into her body with little care, its sweat and filth providing the only bit of lubrication. She soon felt strong, rough hands mauling her firm breasts, adding to her misery.


That part of her degradation was barely starting when another worker entered the bathroom. He was so surprised by that pair of panicked eyes looking at him below that wide-gaping gagged mouth that he immediately called the others. Soon the room as filled with sweaty, smelly rancheros in jeans and T-shirt or just bare-chest, laughing at the poor girl's plight. Aurelie was grunting rhythmically as she was raped violently on the other side of the wall. Then the man remembered what he had been about to do. He unzipped his dirty jeans and pulled out a monstrous, sweaty cock. It was only a few centimetres from the French girl's face and its fishy smell invaded her nostrils, making her wrinkle her nose. He was soon directing a warm, yellow stream at her defenceless face. He tried to aim at her wide open mouth, but he sometimes missed and the urine entered her flaring nostrils instead. As Manuel was humping heavily on her, she began to cough uncontrollably as she had difficulties to swallow and moan at the same time.



Finally the first man spurted his cum inside her vagina. He left, soon replaced by another one, and her rape continued without her even seeing the face of her aggressors. Her pussy was raw from the unstopping rape and in spite of being lubricated by litres of sperm. At one point, a man found her pussy so much dripping with cum, 'atole' as he called it, that he decided to go for her other orifice, which at least was partially lubricated by all the cum that oozed out of her pussy and dribbled along her ass crack to land on the floor.



On the other side of the wall, the situation was hardly better. The men had dunk a lot of beer and soon there was a line to enter the bathroom, symmetric to the one that was leading to the closet door. Her face was almost constantly target by a hot stream of urine, forcing her to keep her eyes tightly clenched. Breathing was a problem too as her nostrils were full of the stinking liquid, and she had to swallow as fast as she could to get gasp of air into her lungs before a new man took the place of the one preceding him. At one point she cursed her long mane, as it was clogging the drain, causing the stinking liquid level to rise up to her eyes.


Carlos, one muscular man that had been herding cows all day had brought along his cattle prod. When he entered the closet, Aurelie had been continuously raped for one hour. Sperm was oozing from both her pussy and anus and she was hardly reacting any more. He decided that the girl needed some encouragement to get out of her stupor. He inserted the twin prods of his tool into her cum-filled orifices and pressed the button for a few seconds. Aurelie's body arched, her legs yanked violently on their restraints, she howled to the top of her tired lungs while her eyes seemed to bulge out of their socket. She struggled powerfully, all her muscles bulging under her sweaty skin, desperately trying to break her binds. Carlos then target her tits, shooting electricity into them. This caused more horrible howling to escape her gaping mouth while her body thrashed about as far as her restraints allowed it. It was strange for him to hear the screams coming form the other room. as if it was another woman being tortured.


Finally, after two hours of continuous rape and urinating, the party was over and the men went back home. Aurelie remained for some time in that position, her head bathing in the pooled urine the hacienda's workers and her crotch covered and filled with their sperm. Her eyes and throat were burning. The taste and stench was saturating her senses. Her nether orifices were raw and aching from over-use.



Chapter 9: The ant nest


The next morning, Pablo released her legs and waist belt from the closet and, hooking a leash to her heavy collar, led her out of the hacienda again. Her drenched, stinking hair was dribbling piss all over her body and rivulets of sperm were snaking down her thighs as she followed the tug. She was exhausted and her whole body was aching. Again, she tried to plead, to excite the Mexican caballero's pity. But her ruined looks and gagged mouth were playing against her, and Pablo's heart was not easily troubled by a bound and naked girl's pleads. He led her some distance in front of the hacienda, right under the noon sun. Flies were busy swarming around the stinking girl.


She saw a high and wide square frame made of steel pipes. A one-metre-wide circular metal plate was lying on the ground just underneath. Pablo encased Aurelie's waist with a kind of metal belt. A small ring was embedded into its back. He made her sit on the plate her back against a steel post protruding in its centre, making sure it was threaded through the belt ring. He then pulled her left leg against the side post of the frame and chained it in place before doing the same with her right leg. Her feet were place off the ground, a little higher than her butt. Her legs were now wide apart, stretched on each side of her body, as if she was doing a split.


Then Pablo closed a shackle on each of her wrists. Those were tied to a long rope that went over pulley fixed to the horizontal frame over her and came back down, tied to a pair of chains. Pablo tightened them around the base of each of her breasts, constricting the flesh and making it bulge obscenely. A small padlock under each breast locked them in that position. Her hands were pulled high over her head. Pulling on them would tug on her breasts.


At first the girl suspected that would be her plight for this test, but the cruel Mexican had more to add to her predicament. He released two small hooks on the circular plate she was sitting on, which allowed them to separate it in two parts, which he removed from under the chained girl. Aurelie was now sitting directly on the soft earth. Almost immediately she felt something moving under her buttocks. Her skin began to itch. Looking down, she discovered with horror that she was actually sitting right in the middle of huge ant nest. Red ants were already swarming out of their underground tunnels to explore the body of helpless French girl. The ants were crawling up on both sides of her crotch, impeded by the curly hair protecting her vulva. They began to explore her thighs and belly. Meanwhile, others were scouting their way up the crack of her butt. Their tiny legs were slightly tickling her as they continued their progress up her body, reaching her breasts, her armpits, her face.


At this moment, Pablo took a stick and began to stir the earth around Aurelie's butt, turning it over. The ants began to whirl around angrily, brandishing their mandibles furiously as their nest was disturbed. Then Pablo rubbed his stick against his guest's belly, squashing a dozen ants on her skin. Finally, using it as a switch, he began to crush ants all around her stretched legs and on her torso. The ants were now getting furious. They could smell the scent of their dying sisters. The pheromones of fear were surrounding them, rendering them crazy with rage. Pablo stirred the nest one last time and then dropped the stick so that it rested against the Aurelie's lower belly. To the angry insects it was now more than clear who their aggressor was, and they began to attack her furiously.


Aurelie felt more and more bites into her inner thighs and buttocks. More ants of the warrior cast, with larger heads and stronger mandibles were rushing out of the destroyed nest. They scrambled over the body of the poor girl, biting her skin and injecting their venom into her flesh. As she squirmed and moaned, she crushed more ants, including some pupae that industrious workers were relocating after the destruction of their nursery. The ants were trying to make her run away, to scare her and make her stop her supposed attack, but the more they bit her, the more she squirmed and destroyed their underground nest.


Her legs were now covered with the furious hymenopterans. Some had managed to crawl through the bush of her pubic hair and were now attacking the soft flesh of her pussy lips. With her legs stretched so wide apart, her vulva was wide open, exposing the rosy interior of her sex, as well as her tightly clenched anus. Soon dozens of ant warriors were busy chewing the tender flesh with their strong mandibles while injecting venom. By now, Aurelie was moaning and pleading. Her entire crotch was in fire and her legs were not much better.


As more warriors rushed on her helpless body, they began to crawl higher, attacking her belly and then her breasts. Aurelie was getting mad with the itching and pain. She began to pull on her arms. Her biceps bulged and the chains coiled around her breasts began to dig deeper in her mammary flesh. Her ballooning boobs got tauter and bigger. Their throbbing increased as it felt as if they were about to explode from the internal pressure. Aurelie's face was grimacing. Beads of perspiration dribbled down her forehead and under her armpits. But she kept pulling. Her chained breasts were stretched upwards. Her nipples were nearly rubbing against her chin. Her butt was lifted off the ground. She pulled some more, moaning loud. She was torturing her own chest in order to escape the red ants.


She tried to shake her body to make them fall down but because of her bound legs it was not very efficient, and it caused inhuman pain in her strangled mammaries. Her arms were beginning to tire. They were supporting half of her weight. She pulled harder, bringing her shackled hands at the level of her face. She whipped off a few ants that were exploring her face. Higher, higher... Now she could push on her bound ankles as well. This was also giving some relief to her throbbing breasts. As her hands reached her chest, she began to use her elbows to wipe the ants off her belly. Higher, higher still... Her hands reached her crotch.


She was now almost standing with her legs wide apart, supporting her weight with her wrists, ankles and breasts. She brushed the ants from her sex and anus and hooked her fingers into the flesh of her butt. In that way, she was able give some rest to her trembling arms. How long she could stray like that, she had no idea though. The angry ants were now scrambling up her arms and were furiously attacking her hands which were coated with the haemolymph of their buddies.


Pablo meanwhile had dragged a chair, and was sitting, enjoying her squirms, while he opened the bottle of Bordeaux wine she had brought as a present.


How long did Aurelie maintained herself in the air? Three minutes? Maybe five? Many ants had fallen off her. And those remaining were tiring and not as virulent as they used to be. But gravity was fighting against her, and her own muscles were beginning to cramp. Her breasts were so burning in agony that she was sure they were being slowly torn from her chest. Her sweaty palms kept gliding on her sweaty buttocks. At some point, she was unable to hold on any longer. Her finger nails left ten long streaks in her buttocks as her fingers were helplessly dragged away. She tried to resist but as soon as her hands lost their grip, gravity acted in full and she crashed on the ground with a scream of pain.


The red ants attacked her even more fierce-fully. They scrambled up her torso in dense cohorts, biting wherever her skin was thinner, more tender. They were tightly packed around over her taut areolae and over her nipples, chewing cruelly at the sensitive flesh. With her arms stretched over her head, the poor Aurelie could do nothing. She tried to lift herself a couple of times, but her arms were yet too tired. Meanwhile, the ants continued their journey, attacking her armpits and then moving to her face. They swarmed into her gaping, helpless mouth, into her nostrils and even all around her panicked eyes. The skin was so sensitive there. Aurelie was desperately shaking her head, unable to scare them away. She was getting crazy with pain and fear. They are going to eat me alive! she thought, her heart beating loud and fast.


The pain grew stronger and stronger. The venom was slowly adding up into her body, driving her dizzy. And after about one hour of intense suffering, Aurelie passed out, hanging limply by her arms, her skin covered with the red swarming insects that kept chewing on her exposed flesh.

Chapter 10: Dipping


When Aurelie regained consciousness, she was being dragged on the ground by her feet. Her breasts had been freed from the chains but they still sported a purple colour. Her skin was red and swollen in several places. Most ants had been brushed off her but a few remained here and there, clinging to her flesh with their mandibles. Pablo forced her on the ground, face down, and tied her hands behind her back with some coarse rope. He made sure the rope was digging hard into her flesh. She was then placed into some kind of wooden pillory. A pair of stocks was holding her ankles vertically and, as they were cranked upwards along two vertical posts, she was made to hang from them. Not completely though, as her shoulders were resting on a wooded panel on the ground. Her feet were about 30 cm from each other.


Then Pablo threaded two bars through the middle of the stocks, each ending in a large, studded dildo. He positioned them so that their tips were just inside her vagina and rectum before fixing them sturdily to the stocks. He tied a new rope to the one binding her wrists and passed it around one thigh and then around the other, just where they joined her crotch. He pulled it tightly, slightly arching her back backward. He completed the arm bondage by a rope cinching the poor girl's elbows together, eliciting pain-filled protests out of her gagged mouth as she was not used to such strictness, and then coiled it several time around her torso. He tested the taut ropes one last time, ensuring her upper body was completely rigid, from hips to shoulders.


Half-hanging from the stocks, Aurelie was looking at him with scared, pleading eyes. What has he invented this time? she was wondering. She knew how creative he could be in his texts, but she would never have imagined he was able to put those into reality. He had always assured her that they were pure fantasies. Now it seemed he was taking assurance and was putting to practice his deepest desires. She was lamenting about her helplessness. If only I was able to talk! I could bring him back to reality! To make him realise I do not want to go that far! Look at my breasts, purple and swollen. Will they ever recover their former shape?


As in response to her thoughts, Pablo squatted next to her and bent over her face, starring straight in her panicked eyes. She began to utter a plea but just at this moment he pulled the wooden panel from under her shoulders. Immediately, she fell with a painful yank on her trapped ankles. He head plunged into a hole filled up to the rim with muddy, stinking water. The water level was well above her chin blocking her breathing. Filthy water entered her gaping mouth and inverted nostrils.



Panicking, she tried to bend her torso up to lift her head out of the water, but because of the way her arms had been bound, she could not do it. The only way to pull her face above the water surface was to flex her knees, and that meant impaling her holes on the two dildos. She had no choice though and she began to pull on her feet. The muscles of her thighs and calves bulged and her legs began to flex. She felt the twin, studded dildo forcing their way into her tight holes, causing pain. She had to force, to rape her own orifices in order to get some fresh air. Eventually her mouth appeared above the foul liquid. She puked the nasty liquid and filled her lungs with air.


As she was blinking, her eyes burning, Pablo squatted by her head and said, “If I have to take you out to save you from drowning, you will have failed the test.”


Aurelie shook her head vehemently while moaning something that might have passed for a "nooooo!" before her leg muscles gave way and her head disappeared again under the foul water. Bubbles came to the surface for one more second and then remained quiet. She was waiting, trying to rest her legs as much as possible before pulling on them again. The wooden stock was digging painfully into her ankles and feet and she knew that soon it would become unbearable.


When her lungs began to burn too much, she lifted again her body. The twin dildos rammed her holes, which were clenched tight because of her anguish, once more. The  her head emerged, dripping with stinking water. She took three deep lungfuls of air and let herself get down. How long can I bear that? she wondered as she was again submerged into the yellowish, dark, putrid liquid. With a careful use of her remaining forces, it appeared that she could bear it very long. She took a regular rhythm of taking three breaths every 30 seconds. In between, she was able to rest her legs enough to pull herself out of the water. And 30 seconds was a time she could manage without too much difficulty. The hardest problem was coming from her ankles, which kept rubbing and grinding against the edges of the stock holes, chaffing them badly.


After one hour of such efforts, her situation had little changed. She was now drenched in her sweat and her legs were trembling a little, but she did not seem to have more difficulty to lift herself out of the water. As she lifted herself for the 150th time, Pablo slid the wooden panel back across the hole, allowing Aurelie to rest her shoulders upon it. I've made it! she thought, unable to believe she had succeeded. I've passed the test! At last! This is the end of all those horrors! I knew he was not a complete sadist, that there is a humane heart beating inside him... She was so relieved. The corners of her mouth were lifting in a strange wide-gaping smile.


Alas she was mistaken. By means of strong alligator clamps, Pablo quickly attached 500-gram weights to each of her nipples. Then he reached into her gagged mouth with a pincher and stretched the desperate woman's tongue out. Pitilessly, he clamped a third weight to the sensitive organ. Aurelie was once again moaning pitifully while contorting herself miserably. But Pablo was not the kind of man whose heart could be easily made to melt. With an evil laugh, he pulled the panel from under the writhing, helpless girl and she fell back into the pit, splashing filthy water all around. Her situation was now much worse. Her breasts were now stretched down by their nipples. Their aureole were twice longer than they used to be and her boobs had take conical shapes. Moreover they were throbbing unbearably. However, it was difficult to the poor girl to decide whether that pain was worse than the one pulsating in her stretched tongue. It seemed on the verge of being torn from her throat, elongated and thinned to a point that must have make it look like a snake's tongue.


As she tried to adapt to her new situation, big bubbles of air burst at the surface of the water. Soon she felt the urge to get fresh air into her burning lungs. Once more she began to pull on her legs, impaling her raw holes on the dildos. The weights clamped to her nipples were level with her mouth and thus she had to pull them out of the water to breathe. As they emerged, her nipples felt their full weight and they were stretched even longer. The foul liquid poured out of her mouth and she was then able to fill her lungs. However, the tip of her elongated tongue remained under the surface, as well as her nostrils.


Her situation had just been made much more painful. Each time she pulled up to get some air, she was now torturing her vagina, her rectum, and now her nipples as well. The studded dildos were now dripping with blood as they kept being rammed into her dry, clenched holes. The pain coming from them got higher with each repetition. Still, the addition of 1.5 kilograms to her full weight did not change much the situation. With every breath, she had to fight the fear of torturing her body once more, but the instinct of conservation was stronger and she just lifted her body again.


Two hours later, Aurelie was still slowly riding the inverted dildos, slowly, deliberately, showing no sign of fatigue. Pablo became concerned that might be winning the test and he began to think about a way to make her task harder. He could not allow her to escape now, not after having gone that far. He began to mix some sand with quick-drying glue and, as she just dropped herself into the water again, he painted it liberally on both dildos.


Half a minute later, as she tried to lift herself back up, the new coarseness of the plugs took her by surprise. It felt as if the inner walls of her vagina and rectum were rubbed with sand-paper, and actually it was exactly what was happening. She could not force the torture instruments deeper into her cavities and let herself drop down with a cry that sent several bubbles to the surface. She was trembling with her orifices throbbing as she thought about a way out of that torture. But  the urge for air was making itself more insistent and finally, her lungs in fire, desperation took over and she lifted herself, grinding the sanded dildos to their full length. After a loud, ear-breaking screams of agony, she took a full gulp of air and went under again, leaving the dildos painted with her blood.


However, to Pablo's dismal, Aurelie soon recovered her regular pattern. Somehow, she was saturated with pain and the urge for air was making her ignore even the cruel sand-papering of her nether holes. He had to find another way of making her lose that test. Walking back to her, he tightened a pair of clamps to her inner labia. They were connected to springs and just as she raised herself to the top of a breathing cycle he attached their freed ends to the stocks holding her feet. When she lowered herself, the cruel stretching of her delicate petals of flesh made her scream in pain and surprise. As she was screaming from the pain, big bubbles blew up at the surface, wasting most of the precious air she had just gulped in. Empty-lunged, she had to to raise herself again almost immediately. She realised that now the lower position would no longer mean rest but torture to her labia. They were stretched so thin, so long, that they would probably never recover their normal length.


Still it was not enough to break her. After a couple of cycles, the new pain had got drown in the middle of all her violent sensations and she managed to focus her mind enough to brave the pain in order to survive. "Pinche puta!" Pablo cursed. On that, he went back to the main house and came back holding a ball of clothes.


He waited patiently until she emerged out of the filthy water and leaved her the time to gulp a couple of lungful of air. And suddenly he punched her in the stomach hard. She tried to curl , gasping, impaling herself deeper on the sanded dildos, coughing and puking bile over her inverted face. Her gaping mouth made a strange sound as she tried to suck more air and there he punched her again in the belly, winding her. She let out a strange strangled noise and her eyes seemed to bulge out. Quickly, he grabbed her by her hair to prevent her from falling back into the pit and as she was trying to recover her breathing, he pushed the pieces of cloth he had in his other hand. They consisted of a combination of his used boxers and socks, as well as Aurelie's own dirty thongs, the one she had worn during her flight to Mexico and on the visit to the pyramids. All were soaked with cold sweat, and her thongs were smelly with her juices as she had been fantasising all days long since she had boarded the plane in Paris Charles-de-Gaulle. To keep the filthy cloth in place, he wrapped a wide rubber band around her head and across her mouth.


As he let go of her hair, she dropped back into the muddy water with a muffled scream. He fall was stopped with a yank on her chaffed ankles. Her labia were once again stretched beyond nature. But her terror was due to the lack of air. She had not succeeded in recovering her breath before falling underwater and her lungs were craving for oxygen. She had no choice but flexing her tired legs again to get her mouth out of the pit. As soon as her mouth emerged out of the water, she took a deep breath. That's when she first felt the anguish. The pieces of cloth packed inside her mouth were now soaked with water and as she breathed in, they were sucked against the back of her throat, leaving only a trickle of air pass through, whilst causing a painful gag reflex. Aurelie's face turned red as she puked bile all over her upside-down face. Her belly was hollowing frantically as her diaphragm tried to suck air into her lungs. But the harder she sucked, the deeper the underwear were pressed through the back of her mouth. She coughed several times to free her air pipe, only to block it again on her next inspiration. Each time, only a mouthful of air made it through and her mind was beginning to panic, lost in the throes of asphyxia. Her legs were tiring of holding her head out of the water, impaled on the cruel dildos.


After her third attempt she tried a new strategy. Instead of sucking as hard as she could, she breathed in very slowly. In this way, the material stuffed in her mouth did not move and kept her trachea unclogged. Fresh air at last entered her burning lungs. At this moment, the cramps in her leg muscles became unbearable and she was forced to let go. With a loud splash, her head fell back into the watery pit, cutting her air supply. She felt despair clenching her heart. She fought the panic and tried to remain calm. She had managed to fill half of her lungs. She would have to survive on this amount until she could make her legs lift her again.


The next time she pulled herself out of the pit, she expelled the stale air as powerfully as she could out of her lungs, pushing the underwear out of her air pipe, and then she forced herself to breathe in very slowly and deliberately. This was excruciating and frustrating as she was urging so much for fresh air, but she knew it was the only way she could get air. Meanwhile, her tired legs were fighting the cramps to keep her clear of the water. This time she managed to fill her lungs completely before dropping back into the filthy head pit.


During the subsequent cycles, she perfected her practice until she was able to get three deep lung fills between each 30-second dips. The deliberate breathing was forcing her to stay almost 45 seconds out of the water, putting much more stress on her muscles than before, but at least the anguish had lessened and she felt that she might be able to sustain the effort for some time. Maybe enough for her to succeed the test.


When he saw her steady herself onto a new breath cycle pattern, Pablo got disappointed. He was not going to let her win this test and he was growing impatient. He took a heavy-duty transparent plastic bag. There was an inscription on it, reading "Choking hazard. This bag is not a toy, keep away from children". He took his knife and used it to punch several holes in it. When she came out of the pit again, he deftly encased her whole head in the bag and tightened a bungee cord around her neck to keep it in place. Her eyes grew wide as she saw the plastic bag covering her head. In her panic, she breathed in too fast, once again drawing the underwear into her air pipe. She had to cough and start again more slowly. In the mean time, the bag had been bound helpless around her neck. As she breathed in, the bag was somewhat sucked against her face, but the air could still pass through the holes. It was fast enough for her to breathe correctly, according to her deliberate pattern of taking air in. As she breathed out, the bag got taut and bulbous like a balloon, while its walls were covered with a sheen of condensation that obscured her sight. As she took her second breath, the air that came in was not as fresh as it used to be, as the carbon dioxide had not been completely purged out of the bag. Still, there was enough oxygen in the mix to keep her alive. After the third breath, she allowed her legs some rest and went under. She felt reassured that the bag was not going to cause her much more stress.


Thirty seconds later, when she emerged again, she looked like an Alien with her head hidden inside a big bubble. The bag had filled itself with the filthy, yellowish liquid, adding two kilograms to the weight she had to lift. Aurelie's mouth was covered with it and she had to wait until enough of the water had poured out of the tiny holes, making her head look like a giant watering can. She tried to shake her head to hasten the process but with little success. At last, her gaping mouth was out of the water and she could start her deliberate breathing again.


This time, it took her 90 seconds to complete her three-breath cycle and by the time she lowered herself into the pit, her legs were shaking tremendously. As she waited for her muscles to rest, she could feel the bag filling again with water around her head. Thirty seconds later, she tried to pull herself out but she felt that her legs could not keep her aloft long enough. She remained a little longer, filling her lungs begin to burn from the lack of air. She counted up to 15 before lifting herself. As her bagged head got out of the water, she expelled all the air she had in her lungs, hoping that the pressure would hasten the draining of the gag. This created a lot of bubbles inside the bag but did not seem to have any other effect. Again she had to wait for the water level to decrease, with her lungs burning horribly.


This time, she only managed to get one breath before her tired legs refused to support her and she fell back into the pit. Her air-craving lungs began to burn earlier. She only succeeded in remaining 20 seconds underwater before pulling on her legs again. Waiting for the bag to drain drove her mad with panic. As soon as she could breathe, her panicked mind made her draw air too eagerly, clogging her air pipe again with the packed underwear. She coughed several times but as she began to breathe slowly again, it was too late. Her cramped legs let her fall empty-lunged into the filth. Her body began to writhe and contort helplessly. Her belly was heaving madly as she pumped water into her lungs. After 30 seconds of horrible, anguishing fight against drowning, her body got limp after a last tremendous but vain attempt to reach the surface.

Chapter 11: Rest in the pit



Immediately, Pablo lifted her out of her pit, ripped the bag and tore the underwear from her throat. Then he pummelled her stomach under a rain of punches, until she had coughed out most of the water that she had swallowed. He released her from the stocks and let her rest on the ground until he was sure her breathing was back to normal. Then he dragged her toward a nearby grating set in the ground. He swung it open and pushed Aurelie's gasping body into the pit it covered.





It was a cylindrical space of about one metre in diameter and one metre high. It was half filled with stagnant water. Aurelie had to get on her knees to keep her head above the water. Her hands and arms were still strictly bound behind her back and her ring-gagged mouth only allowed her to utter moans and grunts. Pablo had not bother to release her nipples and tongue from the weights that were dangling from them. The most difficult was the one hanging from her tongue, which kept stretching it out or her mouth. Her labia had been stretched beyond recovery and were now hanging stupidly between her thighs, five-centimetre long.



Pablo closed the heavy grating and locked it with a big padlock. Before leaving her, he unzipped his pants and pissed through the holes onto her head, giving her a second-hand taste of the fine Bordeaux she had brought him from France, when she thought it was going to be a nice vacation.



"Rest as much as you can. You'll need all your strength for the tests to come," Pablo said as he abandoned her in the pit.



As she saw him walk away, Aurelie moaned uselessly through her gag, trying to call him back. To no avail... Once she had lost all hopes to see him come back, she tried to find a not too uncomfortable and stable position. She badly needed sleep, but because of the water she could not just curl into a ball on the bottom of the pit. She would have to keep her head above the water. She sat against the wall, her legs folded in front of her because of the narrowness of the pit. She spread her feet and braced them against the opposite wall and then rested her head backwards. Her contorted and bound arms were killing her shoulders, she was cold but at least she would not fall sidewards. The water level was just under her breasts.



She was so exhausted that, in spite of the pain and lack of comfort, she fell asleep almost directly.



She woke up suddenly. It was dark in the pit. The sun had set and the only light was coming from the moon and the stars. The first thing that she noticed was that the water level had risen: it was now just covering her shoulders. The second thing was some disagreeable tingling in several spots of her body, but mostly on her ankles and inside her thighs. There were a couple on her breasts as well. She lifted her right leg until the foot was out of the dark stinking water. She had a gasp of horror at the sight of the several leeches that had fixed their nasty suckers around her ankles and calves. And then she realised that there must be more all around her thighs and lower belly. She felt cold sweat running down her spine at the thought. She contorted her arms but there was no way she could use her hands to dislodge the gelatinous parasites. It seemed that somehow, the pit was connected with a pond and that water had begun to pour in, bringing its blood-thirsty micro-fauna with it.



She began to rub her lower legs with her feet, squeezing the black, rubber-like Annelids, pinching them with her toes, stretching them, squashing them, grinding them against the stone wall... to no avail. The nasty creatures were so elastic, so slippery, that she could have no impact at all on them. In the process, she realised that a couple of them had chosen her soles and the room between some of her toes to suck her blood. Through the water, she could see the shadow of a few leeches that were feeding on her breasts. A cluster of them, seemingly attracted by traces of urine on her crotch, or because the skin was so thin and gorged with blood vessels, had attached themselves around the entrance of her urethra and along her slit, sucking avidly on blood and causing intense, impossible-to-scratch itching. They looked like a thick, black beard dangling from her crotch.



After some hopeless struggling against the blood suckers she had to admit her defeat. Trying to ignore the growing itching and swarming around her naked skin, she attempted to fall into sleep again. But whenever she managed to doze off, her head tilted and the contact of cold water against her face was waking her up. And then she became aware that the water had kept rising all along. It was now reaching her chin. Aurelie began to panic. Would the water ever stop or would she be drowned in that sinister pit? Unless she were emptied from her blood before that... With deep disgust, she realised that leeches were now attaching themselves around her neck. She could feel their suckers grinding into her delicate skin, pumping for fresh blood.



The water kept rising. At some point it entered her mouth and a little later she had to straighten herself to keep her nose above the surface, the top of her head touching the grating. That was when she began to call for help. Pablo was probably sleeping by now and when he would come back in the morning it would be too late. She would have drowned long before. She was sure he did not want to kill her. She was sure he wanted her alive for more evil tests. She knew his mind well. Some day he would let her succeed a test and they would be friends and equal again. And so she was calling into the night until her voice got hoarse.



When it happened the water lever had risen to the grating. From there it was spilling over on the earth around it. The surface would not get higher and Aurelie found out that, by pressing her face against the grid and pushing her nose through a hole, she could get some air mixed with water. She was sneezing a lot as she kept sniffing water into her nostrils, but at least she could get air. This would be a long night though and she would not be able to sleep again... While she struggled for her survival, the leeches kept assaulting her body, now attacking her face as well. The hungry animals found her lips quite succulent too, as well as the inside of her cheeks, which her clamped and stretched-out tongue kept defenceless. Feeling them swarming inside her forced-open mouth was rendering the poor French girl mad with disgust and fear.

Chapter 12: The zip-line



At last, as the dawn was shedding its new light on the hacienda, Aurelie heard footsteps approaching. She was exhausted, chilled and aching with cramps. Her body was covered with black leeches that had grown obese during the night hours. Pablo opened the grating and pulled her out by her hair. As soon as they felt the open air on their wet skin, the leeches unhooked their suckers and crawled back to the pit, leaving red, circular welts on the French girl's pale skin.



Aurelie was marched to a large barnyard. As she walked, the weights, which were still dangling from her tongue and nipples, were swinging madly like mad pendulums, causing vicious pain. Upon arrival, she saw a cart parked in front of the barn, filled with corn grains. From there, a cable was leading to the first floor of the barnyard, about 40 metres away. A metal basket could be dragged up and down that zip-line to carry the grain and store it out of reach of  rodents. Usually this was done by the hacienda workers but today they were employed elsewhere.



Pablo produced a pair of rusty metal bands which her tightened around her waist and just above her breast, under her armpits. They were digging into her flesh, making it bulge around it. Both had a ring fixed into their middle, behind her back, aligned with her spine. The metal basket was unfastened from the zip-line and Aurelie was placed in its place, the metal cable threaded through big snap-hooks hooked to the rings. Pablo pushed her until she was half-hanging by the metal bands above the cart, her feet and lower legs sunk into the golden grains, her soles resting firmly on the wooden planking. She was bent at the waist, the zip-line running along her back, her weighed breasts and tongue dangling helplessly under her body. She was drooling helplessly.





Pablo then took a large, strange hook. Its tip ended in a eight-centimetre-wide steel ball and was followed by a straight, ridged 20-centimetre-long shaft whose thickness increased with every ridge to reach10 centimetres. Then the shaft made a curve and ended with a ring and a snap-hook similar to those adorning her back. He went behind Aurelie and began to push the ball between her buttocks. Feeling the cold steel against her skin, she clenched her butt as much as she could but it was too late: the ball was already resting against her anus. He pushed with all his strength, but he was not able to make it pass her sphincter. He grabbed a hammer and with a few powerful knocks he forced the ball into the screaming girl's bowels. Her anus slowly closed behind the ball, swallowing it deeper, closing itself around the two-centimetre-thick first ridge. Pablo continued to push on it and ridge after ridge entered her rectum. She began to moan and sweat profusely as her bowels got distended around the cruel invader. Pablo finished with a few more hammer hits, pushing the 8.5-cm ridge inside her. By then, her body had engulfed 17 cm of the shaft but in spite of forceful hammering, the Mexican Caballero was unable to push in the remaining three centimetres. With a bit of regret, he abandoned and, lifting Aurelie's butt with his right arm passed under her belly, he hooked the other end of the anal intruded to the zip line.





Pablo brought a large rectangular piece of canvas whose hems were garnished with grommets and fish-hooks. One of the narrow sides had three rings instead of hooks. Then he produced a one-metre-long, two-centimetre-thick, metal rod, or rather a spike as one of its end was pointed while the other was crafted into a ring. Taking the piece of canvas, he threaded the spike through the first ring then he seized Aurelie's left nipple weight and pulled it downward, stretching the breast. With a strong and quick move he pierced the spike laterally through its middle.



Aurelie yelled in agony and shock. She looked down at her transfixed breast unable to believe what Pablo had just done. The hole would be wide and ugly. She doubted that surgery could arrange it. Pablo had just crossed the line between hard BDSM and permanent damages. She howled and shook her head frantically, trying to convey her disagreement without the benefit of words.



But Pablo did not react to her desperate complaints. Deliberately, he threaded the canvas middle ring on the spike, which was now covered with the French girl's blood. This time, Aurelie knew what was about to happen and she struggled desperately to prevent it. She was much weaker than the Mexican though and he had no difficulty pushing his spike through the right breast, extracting another yell of pure agony from his victim's gaping mouth. Finally, he passed the spiked though the third ring. A large padlock, threaded through a hole drilled just behind the point of the spike, ensured that the spike could not be removed without the key.



Aurelie was in shock, crying and gasping from the intense pain. Her breasts were now doubly weighed down and stretched by the heavy metal rod and the nipple weights. The spike itself was probably about one kilogram heavy and from the three rings the piece of coarse canvas was moreover hanging. Her boobs had assumed a strange shape, looking a little like inverted mushrooms that would have a pointy cap. The pain that was spreading from her wounded mammary gland was nearly blinding the poor girl.



But Pablo's work was hardly finished. Working down the piece of canvas' long sides, he pierced about five fish hooks into the flesh along both sides of her torso. Curiously, there were only four hooks on Aurelie's right side, leaving a gap near her waist. Then the final side of the canvas was hooked in the same way to her hips and her vulva. There were several hooks piercing her labia, her perineum and even one through her clitoris.



The last hook had elicited a high-pitched screech from her tired mouth and then she passed out. She was hanging limply from her two back rings and the anal hook, with the piece of canvas forming a kind of pouch under her torso, like a bag, hooked directly through her flesh. Pablo had to revive her with smelling salts and then he crouched in front of her drooling face and put a wooden shovel in her right hand.







"Here is your task for this morning: with this shovel, you have to fill that bag," he was pointing to the piece of canvas hanging under her body," with as much grain as you can. Then you'll have to scramble all the way up to the barn and unload it in a container up there. Then comes the fun as you just have to glide down the cable to come back here. You have four hours to transfer all the content of this cart to the barn. You can make a few trips with large loads or many trips with smaller loads, it’s up to you. I don't care, as long as the job is properly done."





Aurelie looked at the shovel, then at the heap of grain. This would be hard work to say the least. She would have to slide back and forth along the 40 metres of the zip-line, carrying the grains with her own flesh. But that might be possible if she could minimize the number of travels. That meant loading the bag to it's maximum. She shovelled the corn into the bag as fast as she could. The hooks began to pull hard on her skin, stretching it away from her body and causing great pain. The piece of bag canvas was now bulging down heavily under her chest, stretching triangles of flesh wherever it was hooked through her body.



Aurelie decided it was time to stop and make her first travel. She dropped the shovel and grabbed the zip-line above her head. She did the same with her legs, crossing her ankles above the cable and seizing it between her first and second toes. And then she began to scramble along the line, alternately pulling and pushing on her hands and feet, dragging the three rings along the thick cable. Her butt-plug was vibrating painfully inside her rectum as its shaft rubbed against the zip-line. After a couple of metres, her muscles were already tiring from the unusual and difficult task. She was sweating profusely under the Mexican sun and she was also drooling helplessly. The over-loaded bag hanging from her flesh was swinging back and forth, causing more agony. Her legs were still sore from the previous day ordeal and they were tiring fast.



Ten metres from the start she realised that filling the pouch with as much grain as she could carry had been a mistake. Suddenly, one of the lower hooks, which had been pierced too close from the end of her left, elongated, inner lip suddenly tore itself free, making her howl in agony. Grains began to pour out of the pouch. There was nothing Aurelie could do to stop the disaster and it only stopped once all the surplus had been scattered in the dust between the cart and the barn. At least now the weight was much lighter and she was able to crawl up the zip-line more easily.



At last she reached the opening in the barn. Once her eyes were accustomed to the relative darkness, she saw a large, tall silo, already three fourth filled with grain. She crawled two more metres until she was hanging just above it. Then she began to push and pull the content of her bag into the cylindrical container. She relished the relief of feeling the weight stretching her skin lowering. Once the pouch was empty, she take some rest before going back down the line.



The way down was much faster. She only had to push on the cable a couple of times and she began to glide down, gaining more and more speed. As she approached the cart, she tried to slow down but the cable quickly tore the skin from her palms and toes without much effect. She was already moving too fast. Her descent came to an abrupt halt when the ring from which the ass hook dangled banged into the stop at the end of the line. Her own weight and the momentum she had acquired during her foolish glide hammered the plug entirely into her rectum. Her already overstretched sphincter could not resist it. The aching muscle was torn beyond remedy as Aurelie screamed to the top of her lungs.



She remained hanging from the cable for some time, weeping thoroughly, attempting to overcome the throbbing pain in her rectum. It was only after a dozen of minutes that it had subsided enough to allow her to start her work again. This time she filled half of the bag before crawling up the line again. The zip-line seemed even longer than before to her sore and tired muscles. Her body was dripping sweat as she squirmed up the cable, the bag swinging under her and spilling some grains from time to time. It took her 15 minutes to reach the barn. Once she had emptied her bag, she scrambled back down the line, but this time she did it more carefully. Instead of gliding freely down the cable, she slowed her descent with her chaffed hands and feet, managing to land gently into the cart.



The routine started again. Her mouth was getting dry from all the dust she was forced to inhale. Her eyes were burning from all the sweat gathering into them. Still, she was beginning to get the rhythm, to improve her movements along the line. After two more trips, she was progressing in an efficient, if tired, way. As she came back down after a few more trips, she saw that she had only managed to transport one quarter of the cart content. Her arms and legs were full of cramps and she doubted that she would be able to carry all the grain before her muscles would stop functioning.



Looking around her, she saw that Pablo seemed bored. He was not looking at her anymore, probably thinking about another way to make her suffer. This started a sparkle of hope in her despairing mind. This time, she put even less grain into her bag before beginning the endless scrambling along the zip-line. Upon entering the barn, she gave a look over her shoulder. Pablo was not even looking at her. He seemed half-asleep, his head resting on his crossed arms while chewing on a stem of grass. She crawled into he shadow, disappearing entirely from his view, even if he looked in her direction.



She quickly emptied her bag but this time, instead of gliding down the cable after having taken some rest, she began to contort her arms, reaching behind her back towards the snap-hooks that were holding her to the zip line. She hooked the crook of her left elbow to the line to lift her weight, while she tried to open the snap-hooks with her right hand. The one fixed to the metal strap circling her chest was the first to be released. Then she moved to the one holding her waist, which gave in soon. Then she tried to pull the inhuman butt-plug out of her rectum. This one proved more difficult. The huge object was deeply embedded in her body and her efforts were causing so much pain that she could not pull with as much strength as she could wish.



At last, she renounced and decided to release the snap-hook instead, leaving the plug inside her. However, as she reached for the hook, contorting her torso while trying to hang by her arms and ankles, her right hand beat against the heavy rod pierced through her breasts. This caused her to yelp and jerk from the pain. Her sweat-covered limbs slipped from the cable and, for a couple of horrible seconds, she remained hanging by her anus alone. Before she had time to recover her holds, she felt the plug being extracted from her broken sphincter, tearing it some more. With a loud pop and a long fart, she fell down to crash on top of the corn grains inside the silo.



For some moment she remained there still, biting her lips as she tried to stop the screams of agony she wanted to emit because of the throbbing pain coming from her wide-gaping, endlessly farting anus. at last she calmed herself and was able to sit up and look around herself. She was panting hard and the breast spike was heaving up and down fast. The empty bag was still hanging from all the hooks pierced through her front skin but for the rest she was free. All she had to do was to climb out of the silo, and then to run away from the hacienda. The silo was nearly full, with less than two metres from the grain surface to the edge.



Aurelie stoop up and walked to the wall of the silo. She pressed her body against the wall and reached upwards to grab the edge and hoist herself upward. Frustratingly, there were a couple of centimetres from the tip of her fingers to the top of the wall. Looking down, she saw that her feet were ankle-deep into the grain. All she had to do was to stand on top of the grain and she would be able to grab the wall edge. She lifted her right foot out of the grain. She felt the grain move around her left foot, which sunk a little deeper. She put her right sole on the grain and it sunk a few centimetres into it. But as she tried to pull her left foot out of the grains, it seemed that the little golden seeds had hardened around her ankle. She had to shake and yank on her leg to extract it. Once her left foot was free and out of the grain, to her dismay, she realised that her right foot had sunken again into the grain. Her right leg was now mid-calf deep into the corn. Her fingers were farther than before from the top of the wall...



She cursed and pulled on her imprisoned right leg. The grain had compacted themselves around her calf as a plaster sheath. Pushing on her left foot, she tried to extract her leg. It did not budge. Again, she had to shake and twist her leg to allow it to move, and as she moved, she felt her left foot sinking. The whole process was starting again. Immediately she stopped and her right foot sank a little deeper than before. The grains were now above the widest part of her right calf, while her left leg was awkwardly folded. As she reflected, she felt the grains solidifying around her foot and leg. She realised she was on he wrong track and had to proceed differently.



She knelt on her left leg and began to dig with her hands into the grains, shovelling them away, trying to free her buried right leg. Unfortunately, after some efforts, she realised that whenever she squirmed, she was sinking a little deeper into the silo. It was hard to detect at first as she was indeed throwing grains away and thus it seemed that more of her limb could be seen above the surface, but actually, her foot was imperceptibly going down as the grains under her sole and shin were pushed apart. After much effort, she was sweating profusely, her fingers were hurting, she was coughing the grain dust surrounding her, but as she looked upward, she had sunk by 10 or 20 centimetres.



She was beginning to feel anxious. She tried to dig faster, while yanking on her trapped leg and pushing on her folded one. But it seemed that the more she struggled, the faster she was sinking into the silo. At some point, most of the grains she had shovelled away fell back in an avalanche and she found herself buried up to the middle of her thighs into the corn grains, her right leg straight and her left one folded at the knee. When she realised that she could not move her left leg either, she began to panic. She stretched herself as high as she could, reaching her fingers towards the ceiling, scraping her nails on the metal wall without finding any grip. To her horror, she realised that, although at first there had been only a few centimetres between the tip of her fingers and the top of the silo, the gap had now increased to a half metre! There was no hope of reaching it now. The most terrifying was that the wall totally seamless and smooth, with no hold at all. As she was doing her best to stretch her arms and torso and squirming in the process, she saw that she was sinking by a full centimetre with each of her movements.



In a movement of despair, she tried to turn around to lie on the grain but it only brought the breast rod hard against the silo wall. The shock was reverberated through her whole chest, causing white, blinding pain in her mammaries. There was no way she could twist herself away from looking at that blank, unyielding wall. She tried to bend herself backward to rest her back on the grains in the hope of stopping her descent but she was not that supple and it only succeeded in making her sink some more.



She could now feel the grain against her buttocks and crotch. Her legs were totally immobilised, as if they were held in solid cement. This was scary. She tried to remain motionless but she could not bear the idea to wait here for  Pablo's return without struggle. Once again she tried to dig around herself, and to push herself out of the cereals. To no avail. She only sunk a little more, her hips being engulfed into the grains.



After some time, the lack of moans and of any other sound for a prolonged time eventually attracted Pablo's attention. He went up the stairs to the silo, armed with a cattle prod, in case he should have to defend himself against a woman who had nothing to lose. As he peeked into the silo, he found her buried in the grains up to the waist. He laughed cruelly. She was not going anywhere.



He pondered for a way to punish her and his face was suddenly enlightened by an evil smile. He lowered a metallic cable ending in a large ring, carrying an big, open padlock. Carefully, he lowered it onto Aurelie's chest, in front of her boobs. The trapped girl did not do anything. She was desperate to get out of the silo and was seeing that Pablo was trying to help her. As she tried to grab the cable and pull herself out, her squirming made her sink another couple of centimetres.



"Lock that padlock on your breast rod, between your boobs, if you want to live!" Pablo ordered. Aurelie had no choice but to obey. With a sigh of hopelessness, she snapped the padlock between the ring and the rod. Then he started to pull on the cable, lifting her breasts, stretching them. Aurelie moaned from the pain and writhed. She felt the grains moving around her and at this moment Pablo let go off the cable. Aurelie's eyes widened with horror as she felt herself going deeper into the silo. As the grains compacted themselves again, they had reached the level of the bottom of her breasts. Above her, the cable hanged loosely along the wall, useless to stop her fall although it was still connected to a ring on the other side of the silo wall.



Aurelie screamed while looking at Pablo with scared and pitiful eyes. She did not dare to move, fearing to sink deeper. With every breath, she felt the grains pressing harder against her belly as it heaved frantically. Soon her breathing was reduced to shallow, nervous pants. She could not understand what Pablo was trying to do. And then she saw him passing the cattle-prod over the side of the silo. He applied its prong against the metal cable and pressed the trigger. A series of violent shocks coursed down the cable to explode into blinding flash of agony into her transfixed breasts. Pablo could see them jerk and jump around as her pectoral muscles contracted themselves uncontrollably. She desperately and violently contorted her body as the electricity spread through her nerves, screaming to the top of her lungs, each of her jerks making her sunk deeper into the grain sea. Their level moved up, covering her nipples, then her entire breasts to finally settle around he neck.



Only her terrified face and her arms could still be seen by now. Pablo had stopped using the cattle-prod but he was grinning at her sadistically. He threw her a pair of handcuffs whose chain was attached to a rope.



"I doubt your breasts will be able to support the traction when I begin to pull on the cable," Pablo said. "They will probably be torn from your chest and you will sink to the bottom of the silo, never to be seen again. So I suggest that you lock those cuffs around your wrists so that I can distribute the pull on all four appendices."



Aurelie was panicking. The pressure on her chest was reducing her breathing to a trickle. Her eyes were dry from all the dust that had gathered into them. Through the blurriness of her vision she saw the dangling handcuffs. She felt them bouncing against her grasping hands. She seized them and quickly but skilfully locked them around her wrists. Then she pulled on the rope, trying to extract herself. Pablo was taking his time. He was in no hurry to free the girl from the plight she had placed herself into. As his victim struggled with the rope, he saw her going deeper. The grains touched her chin and she bent her head backward to keep her gagged mouth above the surface a little longer. But soon it too came level with the grain. The seeds began to flow into her gaping mouth. As she shook her head in a vain attempt to expel them, a small avalanche occurred and rapidly filled her cavity with the yellow pearls. Her nostrils flared, her eyes grew wide open, bulging from her skull. And then her entire face disappeared from his sight. Only her forearms and hands could still be seen, vainly grappling the loose rope and cable, sinking fast into the golden pool.



Only then did he he pulled on the breast cable and wrist rope. It felt as lifting a car as Aurelie was so compactly held by the corn. Pablo did not yank too hard. He knew that putting too much force could break the rope or tear her breasts. Instead, he made the lines vibrate to put the grains into motion about the sunken body. Only then did he pull hard. Aurelie light-weight body rapidly emerged from the silo, lifted by her wrists and breasts, squirming like a fish, covered with yellow dust. Her face was purple from asphyxia. As she tilted her head down, a torrent of corn seeds poured out of her mouth. He pulled her out of the silo and dropped her on the gridded platform that was running around its top.



Then, not leaving the panting girl any time to recover, he placed a pulley on the zip-line. Then he tied the cable hooked to the bar skewering her breast to that pulley. Then he tied her ankles together, and also tied that rope to the pulley. At last, he tied a long rope around her wrists and passed it around another pulley placed at the end of the zip line. He threw that rope out the window after making a false knot right next to the pulley, to prevent the girl from gliding down the zip-line.



Pablo walked down the stairs and pulled the long rope to the lower end of the zipline where it ended in a post. There he placed a big and wide rubber dildo which he had just nailed to a wooden board. He had to guess the correct height to receive the girl properly. With a strong pull on the rope, he released the false knot, and the girl began to glide down at a great speed. She had been taken by surprise, and no matter how she tried to grab the cable, she could not slow down her descent. The pulley rolled down the cable at full speed, much faster than before. Aurelie could not see what was awaiting her but she knew that the landing would hurt and she screamed all the way.



She came to a brutal halt with a hard tug on her breasts and a tremendous shock to her perineum. Pablo had missed his target by a few centimetres. The dildo had hit her perineum instead of her gaping, leaking anus. He lowered the board a little and repeated the process, this time only pulling her to the middle of the zip-line. As she was pulled by the wrists, her hands were far from the cable and she only had a mere instant to grab the cable and attempt to slow her fall down. Her hands clung to the cable with the strength of deep despair. She did not want to glide again to the awaiting dildo. Pablo gave a strong tug on the rope, wrenching her hands from the cable, and immediately she began to roll down again. Soon she was going too fast to slow her fall.



This time the measure had been taken correctly and her momentum was stopped by the friction of the dildo against the inner walls of her rectum, causing additional damages to her broken anus. With an inhuman screech, her whole body tensed and contorted itself around the huge dildo and then it fell limp.



Pablo decided that Aurelie had had enough for the morning and that she had failed the test. She would some rest before the challenge he had organised for the afternoon. Thus, he did not revive her but left her hanging from the pulley and impaled on the dildo until the sun had passed the meridian.


Chapter 13: Mexico: 1, France: 0

When he came back a couple of hours later, Aurelie was awake and moaning softly, roasting under the rays of the noon sun. Pablo released her from the pulley, only to tie her wrists together behind her back. When he pulled her off the dildo, her sphincter did not close. It had been destroyed for ever. A long string of farts welcomed the relief and a trickle of brownish, stinking liquid began to leak from her gaping hole.



Using his whip, Pablo marched his guest along another path. As she walked, the breast rod, which was still pierced through her boobs, was swinging painfully, weighing them down. Their flesh had begun to heal around the steel. Her breasts had swollen and were even more taut and sensitive than before. As she walked, she was leaving behind a trail of droplets leaking out of her anus.



She led her to a place that looked like a soccer field. This was no professional grass field. It looked more like a clearing with a pair of  goals, interspersed with stones, and even a few plants. In its centre, awaiting them, was a kind of spherical cage made of intersecting, soldered metal bars. Pablo had built it the previous days, designing and welding the device, while the Aurelie was suffering her other plights. He opened the cage in two halves and forced Aurelie to squat into one of them. He pushed down on the breast rod until its ends were lodged past one of the cage bars, holding her down. Then he replaced the upper half over her crouched body. For a moment it seemed that he had underestimated Aurelie's size because he could not connect the two hemispheres. Through the bars he cut the ropes holding Aurelie arms behind her back and then pushed again. He had gained several centimetres but still there remained a gap between the two half cages. He climbed over the upper part and began to bounce himself up and down. In the fight between tender flesh and unyielding metal there could only be one winner... Finally, with a lot of effort, the two parts snapped together and he quickly locked them by means of four small padlocks.



Already the French girl was in agony. Her body pitilessly pressured into a tight ball with her flesh bulging between the bars. But her suffering had barely begun. Many holes had been drilled through the metal bars. They were designed to hold various spikes, which could be fixed in place by means of screws and bolts. Pablo began to do exactly that, working deliberately, without showing any pity as the poor caged girl was screaming in agony. The spikes came in sets looking somewhat like combs. Each comb had five three-centimetre-long spike on it. Pablo rolled the cage upside-down, giving him an unobstructed view of Aurelie's butt. Then he placed one set against each of her buttocks and another directed at her crotch.



As he worked on her hairy pussy, Pablo noticed how Aurelie's labia had been permanently elongated in the course of the dipping test. With a wicked grin he pulled on them and was able to bring each lip out of the cage and to sew them together on the opposite side of the bar that was holding the nasty comb towards her crotch. From now, whenever that bar would touch the ground it would grind her nether lips between the rough earth and the cage.



Then, rolling the ball to get access to various parts of his victim's body he added more spiked combs. He placed three of them along her spine, three against each shin and two against each shoulder and upper arm. Four more were directed at her skull. He was regretting that her thighs and chest were protected by her foetal position. As he could not find any more place to torture, he made a few steps backwards.



"In Mexico, we love soccer very much, and I know this is the same in France. That's why I found that this next test should involve a soccer tournament between you and me. At the last World Cup, Mexico made a much better performance than France. You were so pitiful! Ha ha! I can hardly contain my laughs when thinking of it! No doubt you are going lose again today, although I'm afraid you won't have the opportunity to forfeit or strike this time... Ha ha ha!" Pablo had tears of joy oozing from the corners of his eyes as he was trying to contain his laughing. "I will score some goals, and then let you score yours as well. You know the rules: you have to enter my goal to mark a point, and if I can shoot your cage into your goal, I mark a point. We'll start from the centre of the field after each goal."







Pablo started pushing the girl-ball with his feet, making her roll around and around. Aurelie was impaling her own flesh onto the wicked spikes with each roll and she kept yelping helplessly. Whenever her labia got caught under the cage she let out a louder screech. After some time, Aurelie managed to extirpate her forearm from the cage and she was trying to act on the direction her cage was rolling to. The mad spinning was disorientating her and in her curled position she had difficulty to see where she was and whereto she was headed. But still she was able to change the trajectory of the "ball" into strange patterns and Pablo found it not so easy as he had imagined to direct the ball. Aurelie was trying to use the momentum he gave to the ball to deflect it towards her own target.



At some point Pablo blocked the ball with his foot so that her head was up, thus crushing her labia against the floor. The poor girl moaned in misery, her arms vainly trying to tip the cage off her delicate elongated flesh. He kicked her arms several time, getting the cage to spin around its vertical axis. Each savage blow made her scream in agony as she closed her eyes. After a dozen turns, he let her come to a halt, facing one of the goals. Aurelie was completely disorientated, unsure about whether it was hers or Pablo's. The clearing seemed still to be spinning around her.



Extending her bruised arms as far out of the cage as she could, she began to roll herself toward the goal while trying to recover her orientation sense. After a couple of metres, Pablo had not made the least move to stop her and she began to have doubts. She turned around, peering between her legs to see the landscape around. Damned! I have been heading in the wrong direction! Realising her error, she began to turn the cage to roll into the opposite direction. At this moment, Pablo sprang back into action and, without letting her time to correct her mistake, he gave the cage a strong kick with his steel-pointed work boots. The cage left the ground for an instant, and then bounced a few times. Its horizontal velocity was greater than its angular one, causing severe scratches to the flesh that was bulging out through the holes between the bars. Her exposed lips suffered particularly. As she rolled and tumbled across the field, bruised and scratched by the stones and the thorny plants, she was desperately trying to stop or deviate her course with her hands, but this time her speed was so fast that all she succeeded to do was to wound her palms.



Finally her movement was suddenly stopped by the goal post. There was a loud clank followed by a wail as sharp points where shoved deeper into her flesh and some blood started to flow.

It took some time for the world to stop spinning in her head as she puked all over her cramped body, some of the bile returning to her mouth and nose. Her forearms were reaching out of the cage, her fingers grappling the earth as she tried to move away from the goal. She could not see Pablo, but she heard him approaching. She was not prepared for his next kick. This time he was aiming to shoot the ball-cage into the goal. It sent it spinning around a tilted axis. After half a turn, her left arm was trapped between the cage and the ground. Her elbow got bent in the reverse direction.   There was a disgusting crack and then a high-pitched screech. A little later, the cage stopped its course in the goal net. Aurelie was crying loudly. Her arm was bent at a strange angle and it started swelling and turning purple. Aurelie was horrified by the pain and the brutality. She looked at her broken, throbbing arm, unable to believe what she was seeing. She tried to get her left, useless forearm inside the cage but she was so tightly packed inside that it was difficult.



Pablo pushed her back to the centre of the field to resume the game. There, he gave her a short kick and then let her try to move. Her left arm was flailing about, causing extreme pain and pitiful screams each time it touched the ground. Regularly she had to pull it back inside the cage. Meanwhile, she was using her right arm and her toes to roll herself toward Pablo's goal. It was difficult and slow. Irregularities in the terrain, stones and thorny plants kept getting in the way. She was sweating profusely under the Mexican sun. Stones, pebbles and thorns were scratching and poking at her flesh through the bars. Her curly mane often got entangled into twigs and branches. The spiked combs kept torturing her from all sides. But slowly she was making progress. Meanwhile, Pablo was sitting in the shade, looking at her pitiful efforts. He seemed to be distracted, thinking to her next ordeal. Aurelie kept dragging herself towards the goal. It was closer and closer. Through her eyes brunt by her own sweat she could see it three metres away. And suddenly Pablo sprang on his feet and ran toward her. A strong kick send the cage flying and tumbling away from his goal. She lost precious seconds to recover her equilibrium and then began to crawl again.



Her tightly curled position was making her bathing in her own sweat and stench. Her skin was covered with bruises. Flies were buzzing around her. Pablo was back to the shady area. Meanwhile, Aurelie was toiling again toward the goal. And the whole scene seemed to repeat itself. As she was about to tie the game, Pablo ran toward her. This time she was even closer to the goal line and he could not shoot her backward and sent her sidewards instead. Aurelie managed to grab a root with her bleeding fingers. The cage pivoted around it and headed toward the goal. Pablo reacted quickly, shooting the cage with extreme violence and sending it against the goal post, which the cage hit at full speed. Unfortunately, her right hand was still holding the root and the sudden change of direction twisted her arm in the wrong direction, breaking her right elbow.



While she was howling an inhuman scream of deep agony, the cage bounced off the goal and rolled out of the side of the soccer field. There it began to tumble down a rocky slope. The cage bounced brutally along a broken pattern. Its bars were twisted by the violence of the shocks. Stones were hitting her prostrated body from all directions. She was rolling so fast that she had no idea where she was going. To her it seemed the tumbling fall lasted several minutes, although it was just a few dozens seconds. She was certain she was going to be totally broken, to be killed in the last impact. As it happened, her course was stopped by a thick, thorny bush and she remained there still, moaning softly, bleeding from many wounds, unable and unwilling to move.



Pablo climbed down behind her unhurriedly. It took him almost five minutes to reach her. If only all soccer balls could moan like this one, he was telling himself as he walked. It would be easier to find them when shot into thorny bush fields. And as an added bonus, this cage ball cannot not deflate if pierced. Nevertheless, when he finally saw Aurelie's cage, he changed his mind. It was no longer the perfectly round object it had been but its bars had been dented and turned into something that was closer to a potato.



He grabbed a handful of her hair and dragged her back uphill to the field to resume the game. Aurelie screamed the whole time as he yanked on her scalp while her raw skin was dragged over the rough terrain. When at last he left her alone on the sideline of the soccer field, she could not move. She wiggled her toes a little but the deformed ball would not roll. Moreover, she was too much exhausted and aching to move a lot. She could not use her hands any more.



Pablo waited for five minutes and then, seeing that the cage had not moved at all, he declared Mexico winner by 1 to 0.



He locked shackles to her wrists and connected them by short chains to the horizontal goal post, so that she was hanging by her arms. To help her in bearing the accumulated weight of her body and the cage, he pulled her hair braids through the bars and tied them to the goal too. Finally, Pablo gave a couple of kicks to the ball to send it swinging madly from her broken arms and scalp. A high-pitched scream responded to his evil action as Aurelie's disjointed arms were twisted and contorted inside the cramped sphere.



Aurelie was left here for the night. Again it was a sleepless, horrible time to spend in the dark. She was totally unable to move. Even her head was pressed against the top of the cage by her braids. Her useless arms were torturing her constantly and the bars were pressing into her shivering flesh from all sides. Mosquitoes, attracted by her helpless form, swarmed around her, rendering her mad from the itch. From her permanently gaping anus some dubious liquid was continuously dripping. She had no more control over it.





Chapter 14: The furnace

In the morning, when Pablo came back, he found the poor French girl moaning softly and utterly exhausted. Pain had prevented her from sleeping most of the night. He had to be careful not to step into the turd that had fallen from her butt. Opening the twisted cage and extracting the bruised girl from its embrace took him one hour of hard work. The piece of female flesh he finally pulled out of the wrangled heap of metal was a wreck. She could hardly stand on her feet and her arms were hanging limply from her shoulders. It was not that she could not move them but it was hurting her so much that she was just leaving them motionless.



Pablo grabbed her wrists, pulled them behind her back and bound them there together. With her disjointed elbows, she could not much use her arms but still he preferred not to take any risk. Moreover, he was finding her sexier with her arms bound. He was also enjoying the sight of the bouncing breast rod as she walked. Then he grabbed the breast rod, right where it was showing between her transfixed breasts, and using it as a handle, he led her behind him towards the hacienda. The pain it caused to her wounded mammaries gave her no choice but to follow the tug, however weak and exhausted she could feel.



He led them to an old brick building that was some distance from the main house. As they entered it, Aurelie saw that it only had one big room, almost entirely occupied by a large brick contraption. It was very big, industrial-sized furnace. Leading to it was a long lane, with a metallic conveyor belt that used to bring the ore to the furnace. It was encased inside a pipe that nowadays was all rusty and deformed. Pablo had soldered a grating at its entrance. The conveyor belt was leading to the furnace were the ore used to be melt. Aurelie saw that a fire was burning under it, although it was far from the inferno it should have been to liquefy metal. From the furnace diverged six pipes, that used to pour the molten metal to corresponding receptacles where chimneys allowed to vent the heat and cool down the metal.





"This is a very old part of the hacienda. It was used for melting the metal from the mines. Back in those days, things were built to last, and I'm sure this thing is still in working condition." Pablo explained.



He forced Aurelie to kneel on the floor. Then he released her arms and quickly fixed the thumb of her left hand to the big toe of her left foot by wrapping many tight rolls of thick wire. As he moved to repeat the operation on her right-hand side, her thumb and toe were turning purple. Then Pablo opened the padlock to the grating closing the conveyor belt pipe and he forced the French girl inside. The click of the padlock being closed echoed in a sinister way into the depth of the infernal machine. The heat inside was not as terrible as she had feared. The fire had been alighted less than one hour ago and it had not yet had the time to heat the whole furnace.



Through the grid, Pablo showed her prisoner the key to the padlock. Then he moved out of her field of vision. He walked to the furnace and climbed up a ladder that was set against one of the molten metal receptacles. From there he dropped the key into the vent chimney. The key clanked several times as it bounced around the insides of the huge structure. Aurelie could hear the echoes but had no way to tell where the key had been dropped.



Pablo went back to the entrance and told her, "Now, all you have to do is find the key and come back here. I would not waste too much time, as the heat is going to grow regularly..."



Aurelie was sitting on the metal conveyor belt, her legs slightly flexed and parted, bent over as her thumbs were bound to her toes, the rod transfixing her breasts pulling them down, her arms passing above it. From her gagged mouth a thick thread of saliva was dribbling on the floor. She began to crawl forward, pushing her heels forwards and then dragging her buttocks. The pipe was only about 50-cm high and she had to bend over as low as she could, spreading her thighs wide. This caused her nipples to brush against the floor as she progressed. After having crawled a couple of metres, the way was obstructed by a low pipe. As she approached it, she felt that it was radiating heat, as if steam or hot water was passing through it. She saw that it was actually running the whole length of the conveyor tunnel, along the ceiling. Corrosion had detached it from the ceiling in several place, bringing it lower.



To pass it, she had to bend even lower, to the point of pressing her breasts against the rusty conveyor plates, while she inched forward with very little movements from her heels and buttocks. Her long-lipped crotch was scraping the floor as she move forward. She had to repeat the same gymnastic a couple of times, contorting her body to avoid being scalded. At some point she got a cruel confirmation about the content of the pipe as a stream of steam was propelled out of a tiny corrosion hole. She crawled as as fast she could past it but could not avoid her back being scalded by the boiling vapour.



The air was getting hotter as she approached the furnace and she was sweating profusely. Nothing unbearable though, probably around the 30°C, but still having to toil in that heat was not comfortable. The tunnel was getting narrower as she approached the furnace and her breast rod was more and more often clanking or grinding against one of the sides. It always sent painful vibrations through the heart of her tortured breasts. Along the last half metre she had to proceed like a crab, her torso twisted sidewards to allow the spike to pass.



At last she reached the central part, the furnace. It was still half filled with remnants of ore. It was obvious that all the heat was radiating from here. Spreading symmetrically around the circular chamber were six pipes. They were dark and Aurelie could not see what was beyond. Aurelie took a couple of seconds to devise the best strategy. Obviously, the furnace would get hotter and hotter. And in the end, she would have to cross it completely to come back to the conveyor belt. Maybe she should start by exploring those receptacles that were opposite to her current position.



She finally took a decision and scrambled as fast as she could across the chamber, feeling the heat against her crotch, buttocks, soles and palms. She quickly entered the right-hand pipe among those that were opposite to the conveyor tunnel and she crawled down. The temperature was decreasing and was a little cooler in the dark chamber of the receptacle. The only light was coming from the narrow chimney in the top of the cramped space. Aurelie began to search the floor, first with her eyes and then with her hands and feet.



After some time, she became reasonably sure that the key was not there. She did not want to lose more time and crawled back to the furnace. The temperature was noticeably hotter already. She was bathing in a thick layer of sweat which almost unable to bring her any refreshment. She found that she could swing herself to the adjacent pipe almost without touching the floor of the furnace and she disappeared inside the pipe to her right. Again, it took her some time to explore the little chamber but she eventually had to admit she had chosen the wrong way again.



As she emerged from the pipe into the furnace chamber, the air was now so hot that breathing was getting difficult and painful. She could only let a trickle of air going through her nostrils to let it cool down before it reached her lungs. She could not see it in the dim light, but her skin had turned a lobster red. She was now presented with a dilemma. There were four receptacles to explore, two on her left and two on her right. She thought again. Pablo was the cruelest bastard she had ever met and he had a sadistic sense of humour. He had probably hidden the key in one of the closest receptacles from the conveyor belt. And thus she decided to cross the furnace again, yelping and bouncing from the sizzling floor as she headed for the opening that was just on the right of the conveyor belt. She almost threw herself into the hole and was glad to find a more breathable atmosphere down there.



Again she had guessed wrong. She came back to the furnace with desperation. There, the air was now too hot to be breathed through her nose. She had to gasp it through her gaping and now dry mouth, causing intense pain to her lungs. As she tentatively reached her foot into the furnace, she pulled it out with a yelp. The floor was now too hot be touched. Again, she tried to swing herself over the furnace but still she had to touch the wall and she heard her skin sizzling and felt intense pain in her soles. She screamed and swung herself as fast as she could into the pipe that was just on the left of the entrance. From time to time, a drop of intestinal liquid dripped from her gaping anus and sizzled on the hot floor.



In that receptacle, the air was so hot that it did not bring any relief to her aching lungs. Her body was drenched with sweat and she was panting heavily. She knew she had to be quick or she would be cooked inside this furnace. Again she explored the floor with her toes and fingers. Suddenly she felt something different, something made of shiny metal. It was glistening in the dark. Aurelie grabbed the thing and looked at it more closely. Yes! That's the key! Got it! She spun around and hurried towards the exit.



She still had to reach the conveyor tunnel and the furnace was hotter than ever. As she grabbed the side of the pipe to swung herself across, she burned her fingers and screamed out loud. To avoid losing her balance, she had to steady herself with her left foot, resting it briefly on the floor. There was a sizzling sound and a strong smell of burnt flesh as she yelled louder. She threw herself in a heap into the tunnel, her left sole throbbing and covered with blisters. Alas, in her haste, she dropped the key and it had clanged down the bottom of the furnace. Aurelie could see it, resting on the hot floor. Prudently, she extended her right foot and hand above it. Delicately, she picked it with the tip of her fingers but still she could feel the intense heat radiating against her sole and palm. Alas, when she looked at it, it seemed that the key had been slightly deformed by its stay on the furnace.



She had yet to crawl back all the way up the conveyor belt in spite of the heat and her exhaustion. But ultimately she reached the grating. But when she tried to opened the padlock, the key would not fit in. It would not even enter the padlock because of the way it had been deformed.



Pablo let the coals go cold under the furnace, leaving Aurelie to slowly cook inside the tunnel for about one hour. The poor girl was sweating profusely and her skin was getting redder every minute that passed. Finally he used a spare key to open the padlock  and the grid swung open with a squeaking noise. He grabbed the girl by her right leg and dragged her out. She screamed as any touch of her over-sensitive skin caused agony. He untied her toes and fingers and rebound her wrists behind her back. He leashed her by her breast bar and led her outside. As the Mexican sun bathed her red skin she moaned again as it seemed to revive her pains.



Chapter 15: Ploughing the fields

"This afternoon you are going to help me plough the fields. The ox deserves a day off and you will take its place" Pablo said as she was marched back to the stables,


There he made her lay face-down on the beaten-earth floor. He locked her feet into a set of stocks that held them totally immobile. Aurelie heard him hammering something on an anvil. While Aurelie had been "resting", he had deformed a pair of  horseshoes into a shape that would fit Aurelie's feet almost perfectly. Now, with the girl at hand he was making the last adjustments.



With a pair of pincers he was holding the left foot horseshoe over the brazier until it was red hot, and then hammered it into a slightly different shape. The day before, he had chosen the larger size of horseshoes and had reshaped it into a narrow U with parallel sides. The curve of the U was designed to fit perfectly to the ball of her foot. He applied the red hot metal against her immobilised sole, aligning it carefully. There was horrible sizzling sound, soon covered by Aurelie's inhuman howl of agony. A white puff of smoke whirled above her feet and a foul smell of charred flesh filled the air. She was contorting her body frantically on the dusty floor, curling and banging her head against the ground, violently yanking on her legs. But the stocks were heavy and solidly fixed into the ground and her feet did not move by a hair. Pablo waited until the metal had settled itself into the branding depression and then began to drive screws through the six holes that were drilled in the front curve of the horseshoe and then into and among the screeching girl's metatarsal bones. Once the last screws was in, the piece of metal was fitting snugly against Aurelie balls of feet, leaving her toes free in front of it.



When he had narrowed the horseshoe, Pablo had made it quite longer than it originally was, but still it was only reaching as far as the two thirds of her foot, leaving her heel unprotected. Of course, the industrious Mexican had a plan for that. He screwed two long, thick, sturdy screws through the ends of the horseshoe, pointing upward. Then he pulled, arched and twisted the foot until its heel was perfectly aligned with the back of the horseshoe, and then he quickly drew the two screws into her flesh and then right into her calcaneus bone. Again Aurelie writhed and twisted her body like a snake, screeching to the point of making her voice hoarse. Once he was done, Aurelie's left foot was hopelessly fixed into an arch that made it look as if she was walking on some eight-centimetre high-heeled strapless sandal.



While she was still moaning and crying from the agony throbbing in her left foot, curling her toes helplessly, Pablo went back to work on the right foot horseshoe. Soon after, both Aurelie's feet were symmetrically fitted with the extreme, high-heeled horseshoes. Pablo unlocked the stocks, allowing her to lift her legs. She could feel the weight of the two contraptions and how they kept her feet cruelly and immovably arched. Pablo took a couple of steps backwards to admire his work.


"Perfect! That should protect your feet against the pain of walking the field back and forth," he observed. Then, with lashing a bull-whip on the floor next to his victim's head, he barked, "Now, stand up! It's time to go to work!"


Aurelie curled into a ball on the floor, her feet and lower legs throbbing with agony. She could not imagine herself putting her weight on her tortured feet. However, after having felt the bite of the whip a few times on her back, she rolled on her knees and then began to stand up. As she put her weight on her right foot, she screamed from the pain as the screws ground into her very bones. The intense agony propagated up her calves and thighs, causing inhuman woe. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She was sure now that her feet would be crippled for the remaining of her life. She pushed on her foot and stood up, quickly resting her weight on her two arched feet.


He placed a pair of nipple weights, like the ones he had used earlier. Then she was then marched to the fields. With each step she had to lift the weight of the horseshoes while resting on her opposite foot. The screws kept torturing her bones and muscles with transfixing agony. They walked about one kilometre before reaching the empty field. There was a plough waiting in a corner. She was led to it. The steel mould board was fixed to a long pole, the stem, with a pair of straps used to bind the ox to it.


Pablo forced her to bend over and then he shackled her wrists to her knees. Then he made her back up along the stem so that is passed between through her cleavage between the breast rod and her chest. He positioned the stem between her legs so that the twin leather straps were just under her dangling breasts. Those straps were  tightened around  the French girl's breasts above and below the point where the metal bar was transfixing them, making them bulge, taut and firm under her. She could feel the coarseness of the wooden pole against her crotch and inner thighs. Finally, he attached a short chain between her ankles to prevent her from doing too large strides, not that she could walk very fast anyway with the agony caused by each step in those evil horseshoes.



Once she was all set, Pablo used his bull-whip to spur her into action. He was standing behind the plough, holding its handle while she was trying to pull it forward. It took several hard lashes onto her rump to decide Aurelie to move. She braced on her throbbing feet and pushed on her legs. She felt her breasts strangled some more and stretched down her belly. The pain was shooting through her body, from feet to breasts. And the whip kept landing hard on her protruding buttocks, stinging, spurring her to move forward. She was howling desperately as she felt her toes dig into the soft earth while the screws were grinding against her metatarsal bones. How long would her breasts stretch before the plough would start to move? At last it moved but Aurelie was sure that her breasts had been elongated beyond recovery. Her chest would forever be snooping and flapping on her belly.


As she toiled forward, step by step, stung by the whip continuously, she realised Pablo had lied: the horseshoes did not protect her feet. They left her toes and her the skin inside their curve fully exposed to the sharp stones and thorns she kept stepping on. Still those comparatively mild wounds passed indeed ignored as the screws were torturing her bones. Soon, cramps knotted into her calves began to compete with the agony caused by the screws. Standing on high-heels had never been Aurelie's main skill and those shoes were the tallest she had ever worn. Moreover, with each step, the wooden stem was chaffing and bouncing against her naked crotch, soon causing blisters to appear, followed by open wounds.


Her skin was covered with a thick layer of sweat, upon which an army of flies was busily quenching their thirst. The nasty insects kept bugging her by walking over her face, entering her nostrils, eyes and gaping, drooling mouth. This was pure hell and she wondered how long she could bear this treatment without collapsing. But whenever she gave the smallest hint of tiring or slowing down, Pablo's hips went into a frenzy all over the length of her curved back and criss-crossed buttocks.


Slowly, her breasts were stretched some more, until she could feel her aureole brushing against the front of her thighs with each stride. By now though, she was no longer concerned with her looks. She was bathing in the middle of he woes, her brains totally saturated with agony sensations swarming from all her nerves. Her mind was focused on moving her throbbing feet forward, step after step.


Countless flies came to feast on the wounds left by the whip, sucking the red moisture as fast as they could until the next lash scared them away. Some of the insects preferred to settle on her dangling udders, which were now looking bigger and more swollen than those of a cow. She could hear them buzzing on her ear, but trying to shake them out only caused more agony from the soles of her feet, to the severely scratched crotch, to the elongated breasts, and ended with a flash of pain on her back as Pablo punished each delay with an overhead swing. Some horseflies judged her body as that of a dying animal, and decided it was a good place to lay their eggs in her many lacerations.


After a couple of laps however, she just could not move her legs. She was completely exhausted and her body was so much coursed with waves of agonies that she barely felt the nasty bull-whip lashes any more. She fell on her knees, which dug into the earth, slouched over the plough pole. Without its painful support she would have fallen on her side.


Chapter 16: The Scarecrow



A little farther was a corn field and Pablo, after having released her from the plough, led her there. He had not removed the horseshoes though, nor the breast rod. On one side of the field a wooden cross was standing. As they came closer, Aurélie saw that a cornu was fixed to its shaft. It was a thick, long wooden rod running parallel to the cross upright and solidly nailed to it by its base. Its tip was rounded. Pablo made her climb on a low wooden box in front of the cross and then lifted her just enough to make the cornu enter her wide-gaping rectum. It was quite a big piece of rough wood, thick enough to be painful even for Aurélie's over-stretched anal passage. Then he released her arms one by one and bound her wrists to the ends of the horizontal piece of the cross. In that position, they were level with her shoulders, extending on each side of her body at right angles. She could feel the coarse surface of the wooden upright against the skin of her back as she stood precariously on her tip toes, trying to lift as much of her weight off the painful horseshoes screwed into her throbbing feet. Her naked body was slightly curved away from the post. Her breasts, still transfixed by the metal rod, were now hanging hideously down her chest. Pulling the plough had stretched them beyond repair And Aurélie's nipples were now level with her navel, her formerly proud, jutting breasts now resting shapelessly like dog's ears against her torso.


She could not believe her eyes when she saw Pablo approaching a heavy mallet and a thick square nail, similar to those used to fix the rails. He placed its tip against the middle of her left wrist. Understanding what he was about to do, she frantically shook her head from side to side while uttering what was probably a howled 'NO' but was changed into a 'O' by her ring gag. She tried to yank her arm away but it was tied too tightly and she could not move her wrist by one centimetre. Pablo gave a heavy blow of the mallet upon the nail's head. It penetrated the skin, the flesh and the nerves before embedding itself into the hard wood behind. The point had skilfully been driven right in between the radius and the cubitus. She was in so much pain, her mind saturated by the pain radiating from her left arm that she did not notice that the same treatment was being done to her right wrist until the flash of pain exploded as the nail was hammered into her right forearm.


As she howled in deep agony, she saw through her tears that he was leaving her to her predicament. She could not believe that he had actually nailed her wrists to the cross-piece. As she looked left and right, she could see the wide nail square heads pressed against the coils of rope that were securing her forearms to the timber. There had been surprisingly little blood and most of it had been drunk by the hemp. Still, her muscles were transfixed and it felt as if her arms and hands were totally paralysed. She could not move her fingers. They remained crooked, slightly trembling. Her face was a mask of tremendous agony around her wide-gaping mouth. She was covered with sweat. She was now trying to rest all her weight on her torturous high-heels so as to spare her freshly nailed wrists additional pain. However, the horseshoes did not offer a very stable platform. Moreover her ankles were tired from the efforts they had had to sustain while ploughing and they often twisted under her and whenever it happened she was giving painful yanks to her aching arms.


Pablo soon returned, carrying a roll of thin barbed wire. Aurélie's breasts had dropped so much because of the previous tortures that they were useless for his next plans. Lifting the elongated flap of suffering flesh that had been his guest's left breast, Pablo began to coil the barbed wire around its base. As he progressed from the base toward the nipple, the flesh got pushed forward. He stopped the coils after the rod had been correctly engulfed between them and then, after having gone back toward the chest, he switched to the right breast where he repeated the operation. Aurélie's boobs were now taut again with two melons of red flesh ballooning out of the barbed coils but they were still hanging miserably down her torso. To solve the problem, Pablo knitted a kind of barbed wire grid he applied upon, or rather into, the bulging mushrooms. There was one strand on the left of each aureole, one on their right, one above and one below. They were encasing the aureole into a square piece flesh. As the strands were digging deep into the skin, square bits of flesh were bulging out hideously. Pablo then fixed those hellish bra cups in place behind her back, very tightly. The melons were squeezed back against Aurélie's chest, partly covering their barbed-wire wrapped bases, once again thrusting proudly and firmly forward.


Aurélie was already suffering like a condemned in Hell. Every breath was causing additional torture to her deformed breasts. But Pablo was not yet finished with her chest. He fished for her nipples in between the barbs and clamped a bell to each of them. The bells weighed some 50-grams, enough to stretch the nipples and aureole down until they rested directly against the barbs of the wire dug in the flesh below them. Finally, to the hammer of each bell he attached a heavy spiked ball. They were hanging at the end of a long chain that made them swing level with her crotch.


Pablo took a few steps backward to admire his work. His prisoner was contorting herself on the top of the box, attempting to keep standing on her toes to prevent the screws from grinding into her heel bones and her weight from pulling on her nailed wrists and broken elbow joints. He was relishing the terror and agony that was obvious on her grimacing face. She was desperately keeping her pleading eyes fixed on him in a vain attempt to spark pity in his heart. She could not understand that it was exactly this kind of look that made his prick harder. The vain attempts she made to articulate her complaints around the wide ring gag were very sexy to him as well. She was too noisy though, he would have to fix that.


But first he wanted to make her dance a little more varied. Coming back to the cross, he hammered two wooden posts in the ground, one on each side of the box she was currently standing on. Their blunt tips were a little higher than its top. Gently, he grabbed her left ankle and he pulled her leg sidewards until Aurélie could feel it under the ball of her foot. "Believe me, keep your foot her now. You don't want to step down from it. Not yet at least," he warned her, while he did the same with her right foot. Then he removed the box, leaving her standing on top of the posts, with her feet about 60 centimetres apart. She looked down and realised that if she were to step off the posts now, nothing would prevent her from impaling herself onto the cornu that was already raping her anus.


Then Pablo produced a jar. Although Aurélie could see its brownish, greenish, dubious, shapeless content through the transparent container she could not determine what it was. The Mexican man put a plastic glove on his right hand and opened the lid. Immediately, a strong, throat-clenching stench spread around: the infamous, unbearable smell of rotten meat. Pablo plunged his gloved hand into the jar and scooped some of the rotten chopped meat and brought it to the poor girl's face. Aurélie turned her head away, wrinkling his nose in disgust. That was all she could do to escape her tormentor's hand as he began to smear the stinking matter on her face. Pablo rubbed his gloved hand all over her face, taking particular care to get the rotten meat on her eyes, into her nostrils and ears and even into her mouth. Then he went down her suffering naked body, replenishing his hand whenever needed. He made sure that not a single square millimetre was forgotten, from the tip of her hair to the tip of her toes, including all the crooks and folds of her vulva and the crack of he butt.  He even went to the point of inserting a big piece of maggot-filled rotten meat  into her vagina, completed with an iron ring at the rim of her sex to keep the orifice spread open. The French girl's body was now glistening in the sun from a mix of her own sweat and from the putrid juices. The air around was atrocious and Pablo had to resist the urge to puke. The scent was not unanimously despised though as an increasing number of flies was beginning to swarm around the crucified girl.


Again, Pablo stepped away to look at the whole figure. The scene was almost perfect. With a self-appreciating look on his face, he began to explain the challenge.


"This time, your task will be to protect the corn field from the crows. You will have to scare them away until the night falls. If you fail, you'll remain here until sunrise... And now, of course, as a scarecrow, you must not be allowed to scream, so..."


On those words, he came back to Aurélie, holding a piece of black rubber that looked a little like a butterfly. He pushed it into her mouth and began to pump it up, causing the two "wings" to grow larger and larger, until her cheeks were bulging from the inner pressure. The gag was now sealing her mouth totally shut while rendering her face even uglier than before. Then Pablo left and walked more than one hundred metres away. He pulled out a a pair of binocular and, laying comfortably on a deck-chair, he began to look at Aurélie's performance.


The poor girl had been bound facing south-west, towards the afternoon sun. Her naked body was facing unprotected the hot rays and she was already suffering from the exposition, sweating like a fountain, which, mixed with the putrid smell emanating from the rotten meat smeared all over her, attracted more flies. They were busily crawling all over her, feasting on the delicacies that had been offered to them. The itching they caused was driving the French girl crazy. At first, she only had to shake her body to make all the little black and green insects to take off in a buzzing swarm but the flies quickly grew accustomed to see no really dangerous attack and soon they were not bothering anymore by any movement she could make. Her eyes, her nostrils, her lips were circled by the dark line of eager flies, side by side, drinking from the moisture source. The same was happening around her vulva and stretched anus. The most disturbing part was when they tried to get into her ears, the buzzing sound was maddening.


As she suffered from the insect harassment, another type of throe was growing: to prevent her nailed and broken arms to support her weight, she had to stand on top of the blunt posts set in the ground. After only five minutes, the ball of her feet had grown raw from resting on the narrow support. She began to switch her weight from one foot to the other, contorting her body in the process. She glided her feet over the posts so that another part of her soles was resting in the rough wooden pegs. Through his binoculars, Pablo could see how she tried to wrap her toes around the tip of the posts, as if her feet were hands and they could grip themselves monkey-fashion. After some time of this gymnastics, the ball of her feet and her toes was unbearably sore. She tried to use the front part of her horse-shoes but that caused the screws to grind so cruelly into her metatarsal bones that she could not bear more than a few seconds of that. Instead, she tried to use the arch of her sole to support herself. It was possible to pass the posts inside the U-shapes the horse-shoes. The steep arch her feet were kept in by the heel screws were not helping her to maintain her balance, but at least this was a part of her sole that had been protected so far. Resting on them provided her with some soothing relief, even though it made her sink one or two centimetres over the thick cornu.


Her slow, grimacing dance continued for sometime but soon her inner soles had too grown over-sensitive. Once she had exhausted all the untouched spots of her feet she was back to her former situation. With infinite difficulty and pain, she switched again to resting on the front part of the ball of her feet. The relief did not last long and soon she was again in deep agony. She had the impression that her soles had been skinned and that the posts were grinding into her very flesh. The throbbing pain was getting less and less bearable. She was grimacing and moaning silently behind the inhuman butterfly gag.


At some point it seemed that nothing could be worse than standing on these infernal points. She banged her head against the post and let her feet slip from their torturous supports. As the grinding pressure disappeared she felt an immense relief. It vanished quickly though as her weight was now impaling her slowly on the monstrous cornu. Her already destroyed rectum was stretched even wider and the coarse wood was scraping at her inner walls. Her eyes grew wide with pain and horror and she tried to lift herself with her arms, renewing the agony of her dislocated elbows and transfixed wrists. Her feet searched for the upright post and tried to push her body upwards, however the metal of the horse-shoes could find no purchase on the wood and her legs were vainly contorting on the sides of the cross, like frog legs. The sight brought a joke to Pablo's fascinated mind and he grinned inwardly.


After a few more pathetic and useless attempts, she had sunk a little deeper on the impaler, causing more pain to her rear opening. The pull on her arm and chest muscles were making her breathing more laboured, more difficult, as if her diaphragm was struggling to suck air into her lungs. After a few minutes, this uncomfortable feeling changed to sheer anguish. She parted her legs and began to look for the posts. In her current position, looking down was not easy and she had to feel around with her toes to find the wooden supports that had tortured her feet a few moments before. At last she found them and was able to support her weight with her legs again. And almost immediately she began to feel the pain grinding into her soles again. This was no-win situation. Whatever decision she took she was going to suffer!


The same cycle repeated itself a few times. The poor girl was switching from torturing her feet to torturing her rectum and arms. The cycles tended to become shorter as each position was reaching the unbearable threshold sooner. Her skin was nearly black from all the flies crawling upon it. The constant swarming was driving Aurélie crazy but she no longer had the energy to scare them away. More dangerous were the crows that were circling the cross, closer and closer. Some of them dared to fly one metre or two in front of her, examining the hanging piece of flesh with their tiny, cruel eyes.


With time, the corvids accustomed themselves with the erratic, limited moves of their prospective prey. They were used to dying cows. They knew when the beasts had become too weak to offer any danger. But here the situation was somewhat different. This was a human being and they had learned to fear them and remain out of reach of their ranged weapons. The smart birds acted prudently. This human seemed a little different. She moved more slowly, and not very much. She was making no sound. The most daring among the crows landed a dozen metres from the cross and, with prudent hops, began to get closer.


Through her fly-ridden, sweat burned eyes Aurélie could see them getting bolder and bolder. As they came within one metre form her she began to feel scared. She did not like how they were looking at her. She tried to scream but hardly any sound made it past the huge butterfly gag that was spreading her mouth so wide. Somehow it felt a bit strange to have her mouth gaping wider than ever before whilst being unable to produce the least sound except meek "mmf mmmf". It seemed that her heart beats were making more noise than her voice. The crows were not impressed at all and they kept hopping closer. The futile attempts at scaring the animals, had the opposite effect, as they got more and more interested in the squirming figure. The smell of rotten meat was telling them that it was a dying animal, something more succulent than corn seeds. Getting closer and closer with short hops they studied the scarecrow, testing how much closer they could come without risk.


The biggest crow was particularly bold. It was the first to come in range, its small eyes focused on her left foot, its nostrils relishing the pungent odor. Aurélie could see it from the corner of her eyes as it was peering at her intently. She could see that it was on the verge of pecking at her foot. She wiggled her aching toes, moved her foot a little, grinding the wooden post painfully into her sore sole. The bird spread its wings anxiously but it did not take off immediately. Seeing that nothing happened except more toe wiggling, it progressively calmed down and closed its wings again. It inched closer again, its black beak a few centimetres from Aurélie's tortured foot.


With a sudden movement its beak pecked at the top of her foot. Aurélie's eyes grew wide from the pain but hardly a sound came out of her mouth. She kicked her wounded foot at the bird, which had already hopped away by that time. However, this made her lose her balance and fall from the posts, until the nails and the cornu yanked her to a stop. Climbing back on her foot-rests took forever as she kept loosing her balance or glide from the posts.


The other animals looked from afar, and noticing that the adventurous crow had been rewarded with something to eat, they started to come closer gradually. The pack of crows surrounding her was now denser. Aurélie tried to move her trembling legs to scare them but that caused so much painful grinding into her soles that she stopped that immediately. Then she thought of the bells that had been rigged to her nipples. She shook her chest and the little bells began to ting, while the spiked balls they were attached to flogged and raked her flanks and crotch. At the first sound, all the crows took off, scared. But of course Aurélie could not keep this cruel dance for long, and she fell back still, the crows began to gather again. Ringing the bells scared them a few more times, although they flew not as far as the first time. Aurélie could see that they were getting accustomed to that sound as well as they realised nothing bad happened to them.


Aurélie heard a flapping of wings next to her ear and, turning her head, saw a big crow sitting on the horizontal crosspiece, right next to her. It got overconfident aproaching the nailed wrists, smelling all the blood flowing from them. It got very close to her hands, that despite the heavy cramps still had some mobility in them. As the bird bent over to peck at the blood-soaked wrist rope, the suffering girl managed to grasp it by its neck. She squeezed as hard as she could, feeling and hearing a disgusting crunch as the delicate bones of the crow's skull and neck were crushed. The dying animal flapped its wings and jerked its claws, but it was as helpless as its killer was and all its efforts proved useless. At last, Aurélie reopened her hand and the black corpse fell at the foot of the cross.


The long minutes continued to pass and Aurélie's body was contorting itself against the cross as she tried to find a better position. She was grimacing and sweating profusely. Her skin was glistening, her muscles were bulging as they were full of horrible cramps. Progressively, the crows were coming back. They now knew they had to avoid their prey's hands. The began approaching her feet and legs. Aurélie had learned the hard way what happened is she tried to kick the bird away and so she did not dare to move. She was shaking her head and mumbling through the cruel gag to scare them, but that was all she could. Her belly too was moving caving in and out as she panted in panic. But this all proved not enough. Soon there were constantly two or three birds surrounding her parted feet and pecking at them and at her lower legs. Aurélie was wiggling her toes desperately, which only made them look more like worms. Her skin was covered with small wounds and rivulets of blood.


As the competition for their victim's legs was too fierce, some birds flew again to the horizontal bar of the cross. They were struggling each other to be as far from her hands as possible. From this perch, they could bend over and peck at the twisted flesh of her shoulders and biceps. Aurélie moved her arms a couple of time but she was too tired by now, and this was causing too much pain to her nailed wrists. Some crows tried to attack her head too but she was shaking it too much and this was frightening them. For some time....


Seeing that she could not move her arms anymore, one of the corvids felt bold enough to perch itself directly on her shoulder. She screamed higher as its claws pierced her taut skin. From this position, the bird was able to reach the ballooning breasts, which it knew was a piece of choice. Another bird quickly followed the first on the free shoulder and they began pecking hungrily at Aurélie's throbbing boobs. From time to time they tried to attack her face because they knew that the eyes were the tastiest delicacy, but Aurélie, panicked by the prospect of losing her eyes, was frantically shaking her head in all directions. Still she received many hits of their bloody beaks on her bulging cheeks and temples.


Her wide open vagina, with the rotten meat within was a very interesting target that the animals wasted no time in attacking. Of course the pole deep inside her rectum made difficult for Aurelie to move her sensitive orifice out of the way of the sharp beaks but the frantic girl tried time and again, grinding her innards against the roughness of the pole in a feeble attempt to protect her womb from a pair of crows that fought to secure a better access to her insides.


At last, the sun disappeared below the horizon and the crows flew away. Pablo was forced to recognize that none of them had attacked the corn field as they had been to busy with the poor French girl. As a Caballero, he had to hold his word and he began to release the throbbing woman from the cross. He removed the nails, which caused some blood to spurt out as the flesh had healed around the metal. Quickly he bandaged the wounds. At least he had not damaged any major blood vessel, but he wondered if the nerve ending had remained intact or if she would lose some use or sensitivity in her hands.

Chapter 17: Pablo's wife

"There, honey!" Pablo said in a soft voice. "This is all over. You have done quite a good job and you have won your freedom. I'm going to heal you and then you'll be free to go back to France."


The barely conscious French girl hardly reacted but a faint smile seemed to appear on her grimacing face. With infinite precautions, Pablo carried her back to the hacienda. After having washed her and attended her countless wounds, he fed her with some liquid food. Then he clothed her with a white night dress and laid her on a comfortable bed. There he tied her spread-eagled on the thick mattress. Aurelie was beginning to feel stronger but she was still suffering considerably. She also felt totally exhausted, having been deprived of sleep for so many days and nights.


"My dear, I need to go to the city to collect better medical supplies. I should be back in 7 or 8 hours. Until then, you can sip more liquid food from this bottle," Pablo said, pointing to a two-litre bottle that was hanging inverted above the bed with a hose dangling from it. "Take as much rest as you can. You'll soon be fitter than ever, I am sure. You are a strong and resilient girl."


On these words, the Mexican man locked the door behind him and left. Aurelie did not even heard him remove the key from the hole, she was already deep into Morpheus' arms. She was at last in a situation where she was not feeling agonizing pain but only the soreness from her cramped muscles, her sunburned and wounded skin. She lapsed in and out of consciousness, her sleep interrupted by nightmares reminiscent from her previous ordeals.  But still she was feeling hope. She remembered hearing between dreams words from Pablo about healing her so she might return to her place. She was now in a comfortable bed, and her most severe wounds had been bandaged.


When she heard the door being unlocked she expected to see her Mexican pen-pal coming back with some ointments, bandages and painkillers. So it came as a surprise to see a heavy-built Latina woman storming into the room. Her face was at first showing anger but it quickly turned to cruel delight as she realised that Aurelie was strapped to the bed, totally helpless.


Aurelie looked at the new-comer with puzzled eyes, a little scared by the hate she could read into the woman's eyes. She pulled on her restraints, only to find again that she could not move her limbs more than a few inches in each direction.


"Who... who are you?" she asked, anxiousness obvious in her voice.


"I am Maria, Pablo's wife. I have eyes in this hacienda, and when I was told that my husband had brougth a thin young girl here I knew why he had insisted on me staying in the city. He wanted to have time to play with you. And I see that he has done everything in his fantasies. I've known he has such filthy ideas for quite some time."


"You are Pablo's wife? He never told me he was married... Otherwise I would never have accepted to play with him... You must believe me!" Aurelie replied, suddenly feeling in a very dangerous situation.


"By the time I finish with you, there will be nothing desirable of your body left to entice him to even look at you. He will be repulsed by your mere sight!" Maria continued. "And believe me we have plenty of time, he will be out at least eight hours"


"Listen Maria, we don't have to do this. I feel as cheated on as you do, I assure you. I thought Pablo was alone. Let's team up together instead of fighting each other!" the bound woman argued.


"Oh, I will just make sure that he doesn't lay his eyes on you without feeling disgust.. or any other man"


"I swear that I am going to leave immediately and never  come back. You don't need to do anything to me!"


She locked the door again, leaving the desperate french girl to try to escape this unexpected turn of events. Aurelie struggled against her restraints but the buckles had deftly been placed out of reach of her fingers and she had not enough time to try and break them. A few minutes later Maria came back, pushing a cart carrying all the tool she had found in the hardware storage. She started by removing all the sheets and the mattress from the bed, leaving Aurelie lying spread on the wire frame. This granted her more slack into her restraints, but not enough to reach the buckles. The poor girl could now feel the cold frame pressing against her back. Maria plugged a soldering iron into a wall socket and put it aside, waiting for it to get hot.


"What are you going to do with that iron???" Aurelie asked, scared by the cold, determined look on Maria's face. Again her muscles bulged as she yanked on the leather straps, causing the restraint to press into her skin and make her flesh bulge around them.


Once the soldering iron was glowing red, Maria took it and approached it from her helplessly spread victim. She pushed it into her navel. Aurelie was looking at the glowing tool with bulging eyes. At first she thrashed about violently in her binds but once the iron was too close she froze still, hollowing her belly, as if she could flatten herself through the bed wire-frame. She felt the heat radiating against her trembling skin. And suddenly the point entered her belly button with a sizzling sound and a puff of smoke. The pain was so high that her coarse voice echoed between the walls of the room. The french girl had a violent jerk that twisted Maria's wrist, causing her to drop the iron, burning her hand in the process. The iron made an agonizingly slow glide from the red-head's navel until it fell on the wire-frame, leaving an ugly red line across her belly.


"Fucking bitch! I'll make sure you can't even move an inch." Maria hissed.


The Latina girl took the strap on Aurelie's left wrist, and placing her foot against the frame she pulled with all her might, putting even most of her considerable weight onto the task, while Aurelie felt like the limb was about to pop out of its socket. The process was repeated on her right arm. Now the girl was so taut that only her buttocks was in contact with the metal frame below. Sweating from the inhuman stretching of her body, Aurelie was moaning and begging Maria to leave her alone. Her sore muscles had not been able to resist the strength of her tormentor.


Now assured that her canvas of flesh was conveniently secure Pablo's wife resumed her work with the soldering iron. To Aurelie's horror and agony, she saw the soldering iron drawn across her belly, tracing big, charred characters. Blisters popped around the burnt, embossed line behind the glowing tool. After a couple of minutes, the air was filled with the smell of burnt flesh and smoke. The word SLUT had been etched on her navel. The engraving was deep and thick. It was ugly, it was disgusting and above all it was permanent. Aurelie was looking at the throbbing letters glowing on her abs with mute horror.


"Forget about wearing a bikini ever again." Maria said to impress her point. "Nor are you going to show your tits to anyone..." she continued with an evil snarl.


She pulled her victim's right breast by the nipple, stretching it downwards. Then she started ethcing W H. She followed with an O right on her sternum and finished her word by engraving R E over the left breast. The pain was even fiercer on the tender skin of the chest and Aurelie howled again to the top of her lungs. Her breasts had already been through a lot during the last days and their shape was quite deformed. But now with those deep charred scars they would be utterly horrible.


Aurelie thought her suffering was over as she saw her tormentor unplugging the soldering iron. But Maria 's lust for revenge was not yet quenched and, in an act of extreme cruelty, she spread the poor girl's pussy lips apart, found her urethra and stuck the soldering iron into its opening to let it cool down. There was a hiss and a nauseating sizzling sound as the small pipe was cauterized. Aurelie's high-pitched shriek drilled into Maria's ear-drums, almost painfully.


The agony was so extreme that it caused the French girl to pass out. But her remission was not long as soon a stream of liquid hit her face, bringing her back to consciousness. This was to see the Maria's hairy, filthy crotch squatting over her face and pissing all over her face. Aurelie turned her face away but this did not prevent her tormentor to soak her face and hair thoroughly, saturating her senses with the foul stench of her urine.


"Oh my dear, such a mess of hair, all tangled an smelly. I'll fix all that for you" the woman said with sadistic glee.


She tore some ribbons into the bed sheet and soaked them in a bottle of alcohol. Then grabbing a long strand of Aurelie's hair, she twisted the piece of fabric with it into a tight ball, fixing it with some hair pins, like a bum. She repeated the operation until the girl's head was covered with little balls of hair, making sure to pull each hair almost out of its roots, causing much agony to the red-head's scalp. Aurelie was contorting and shaking her head, wondering what Maria was about to do. The big Latina woman had to sit on her chest and block her head between her knees to complete her task properly


Aurelie's expression of pain changed into one of panic as she saw the latina woman holding a lighter in her hand. She clicked it with her thumb and a blue flame came to life, which she slowly approached from one the hair balls. With a low woof, the ball took fire, emitting a brown, stinking smoke. One by one the alcohol-drenched hair balls were set ablaze. At first the French girl only registered the smell of burnt hair along with the urine and alcohol that soaked it, but soon the pain of having her scalp slowly burned started. She screamed to the top of her lungs, shaking her head from side to side in a vain attempt to kill the flames. But the alcohol was making it impossible. The stench was horrible, and the pain was growing fast to become unbearable when the fire began to lick at the very skin of her scalp, burning the last remnant of her hair and causing hideous blisters to pop up. At last, by lack of combustible, the flames died off, leaving her skull horribly charred and definitely bald. Gone was the fiery mane Aurelie had always been so proud of.


The poor girl was sobbing, both from the pain and from the knowledge that her head had been changed for the worst with no way back. She was appalled by the depth of Pablo's wife hatred when the sadistic woman repeated the process on her pubic hair. She felt the coldness of pure alcohol being poured over her bush, quickly followed by the intense heat as it was set to fire. There was less to consume though and the flames were soon dead, after having burnt all her hair and leaving her crotch glowing red. Then Maria used her lighter to burn away the short armpit hair that had grown during the last days. The heat was causing blisters to form under her arms and the poor French girl was screaming and struggling desperately to escape the torture.


Then Maria looked at her victim. She laughed at the sad state of her breasts. They were all bruised and stretched, unable to stand proudly on her chest as they used to. Pablo's wife decided to try and stretch them even longer. She tied a pair of rough pieces of wood above and under her breasts, and then cinched a third rope in the middle, between her boobs. She tightened all three coils of rope to the maximum, bringing the two planks almost together. Aurelie's floppy breasts were flattened to a thickness of merely two centimetres. The aureole could be seen protruding in front of the planks, forming little balls of ultra-taut, purple, throbbing flesh, with nipples of an incredible length. Blue veins were swelling under the thin skin.


Maria threaded the middle rope through a pulley set in the ceiling and began to pull on it, gradually putting more of her weight in the action. At first, Aurelie was raised from the bed-frame, her body forming and arch, pulled upwards by her breasts, until she was stopped by the chains holding her to the four corners of the bed. She was screaming and begging pitifully Maria to release her. The pain in her tortured breasts was unbearable and she was fearing that they might be torn from her chest. The cuffs began to dig into the flesh and bones of her ankles and wrists, her spine began to ache from the severe bending it was subjected to, but Maria showed no sign of mercy. In the contrary, she was now lifting her feet from the floor, putting all her weight at the other end of the rope that was pulling at Aurelie's breasts. Maria was much heavier than her victim, maybe twice her weight. She began to make little bounces, lifting and lowering her feet with cruel yanks. Aurelie's breast started to slip between the planks, catching several wooden splinters in the process and turning to a darker shade of purple. All along, Aurelie's coarse voice was echoing between the walls of the room. Her bulging eyes were focused on the balls of flesh that were protruding out of the planks. They were getting smaller and smaller, darker and darker. As her breasts were forced between the planks, she was sure the aureole would burst and explode their mashed glands out. Somehow she was hoping it would happen as this might reduced the pain she was feeling, even if it would mean the total destruction of her boobs. Her agony was so high that this did not mattered anymore. But such a kind of relief was not allowed her. Finally, only her aureole and damaged nipples were remaining to support the weight of both girls. Maria put her feet back on the ground and, with a quick jump, pulled the wooden planks clear of her body as the French girl fell back to the mattress, screaming in utter agony. Her breasts had been stretched even longer. They were now resting on her belly, flat and shapeless, covered with shards and scratches, while their owner was crying unstoppably from the intense pain that was throbbing inside them.


But the part that most interested Maria in exacting her revenge was Aurelie's vagina, and for that she used a set of smaller wooden planks to entrap her vulva, clitoris included, between them. She repeated the process of lifting her by the trapped flesh until it was squeezed free between the planks. This was too much pain to the poor victim who passed out during the process. When she finally woke up, it was to see that the skin and ligaments of her vulva had been stretched to the point they were now dangling between her legs, stretched to five centimetres.


After repeating the process two more times finally Maria decided to move to other methods to exact her revenge.


***


Pablo returned to the Hacienda to a cacophony of screams that could be heard from a mile away. He quickened his pace and entered the room to find the burned and broken body of Aurelie still on the bed where he had left her. Maria was over her, marking her skin with a soldering iron inch after inch. Aurelie was obviously exhausted by so many hours of continuous torture. She was babbling incoherently, her blood-injected eyes were rolling and blinking madly, her muscles were twitching, tiredly pulling on her chains, her screams were hoarse.


"Wow! Honey, you have done quite a job on her..." Pablo said, seeing what his wife had done to his guest. He looked at Aurelie's body. He felt a mix of anger and frustration. The French girl had obviously been totally destroyed. There was no way she would ever recover a normal life, now. Maria had made sure of it. Her bald, burned head resembled more a character from a horror movie than one of a real human being. Her abdomen and chest were a testament to all the insults in Maria's vocabulary, each of them sketched with the soldering iron. Her progress could be guessed by the position of the words. She had started over her breast and ended writing on her wide-spread thighs. She had started with the English words she knew: "whore", "bitch", "slut" , so that everywhere in the world they would understand what she was. Those words were repeated once over her right breasts and then on the other one. Once she had run out of English words, she moved to the few French ones she knew. Those would have a deeper impact on her psyche: "pute", "salope", "chienne", "traînée", "grosse truie" filled her pelvis and thighs. In the end she completed the book of painful writing with many words in her native language: "puta", "cabrona", "perra", "zorra", "puerca". These last ones repeated over and over again wherever there was an empty space, and her elongated breasts gave plenty of space. There were a few letters written on her stretched labia but it seemed that the task of writing on that part of her anatomy had been too complicated and she had instead merely filled her lips with dark stops. Her forehead , just below the burned scalp, was adorned with a crude drawing of a cock and balls complete with hair. The word "cock" seemed to glow on her right cheek, responding to the word "sucker" on the left one. She had then pulled her head down, not only to let her see the handy-work, but also so she could carve "cunt" behind her head. Each of her palms had "cheap hand jobs" written on them. The same words were repeated on the top of her hands and along her forearms. A cock had been drawn on the top of her feet, and "Put your cock here" on the back of her calves, along with an arrow pointing upwards. Finally, "SLUT" was burnt on the soles of her feet. For those last two words, she had made sure to overwrite them several times so the scars would be embossed into her flesh. She had been envisioning the French girl walking barefoot on the dirt and leaving foot-prints bearing the humiliating word wherever she walked.


No amount of plastic surgery would ever be able to erase those letters from her body. The words "I cheated on Maria", engraved just above her butt, had probably been added as a warning for any other woman that dared lay her eyes on Pablo. Such an incriminating evidence was not to be taken lightly. Her labia were deformed, looking more like the ears of an elephant than the fleshy petals of a woman. They too sported several burnings and cauterized cuts. And if he thought that her breasts had been very much damaged during his cruel challenges, they now looked absolutely beyond all repair, all their fat cells and fibres being severed.


Aurelie seemed shocked. Her eyes were wandering over her defaced body, wondering how she could ever have a normal life with a body in such a state. Who would ever want a secretary that would make such a good job at scaring the visitors away by her sole appearance? Which kind of man would be attracted to the revolting wreck she had been turned into? When she saw Pablo entering the room, she began to smile weakly in the midst of her woes, but when she saw the look of disgusted horror that filled his eyes at her sight, her heart sunk even deeper.


Pablo filled a syringe with some sedative he had bought to make the French girl to sleep and speed her recovery. He approached the screaming girl to at least silence her for a while as her hoarse screams did not sound human anymore. He hesitated for a moment and then suddenly stabbed the syringe into the neck of a surprised Maria. The Latina girl staggered, tried to brace against the bed and then fell over the throbbing body of her victim, where she began to snore noisily.


She was lying in a strange position, on her belly, with her butt somewhat lifted up. Pablo had always loved her big butt and as it was now stretching the thin material of her dress, pervert ideas came to his mind. Quickly, he trussed the dress and pulled his wife's panties down her legs. And then he took her from behind, pounding her heavy form right on top of the moaning Aurelie. In a couple of minutes he had discharged his load into Maria's fat pussy. Relieved, he readjusted himself. Finally, tired to listen to Aurelie's cries and begging, he refilled his syringe with the same dose of sedative and everything went black for her.

Chapter 18: The tug of war

Aurelie woke up to the stench of the pig pen. She was lying on her back in the foul mud. The stench was all around her, irritating her nostrils. She blinked a few times, trying to reactivate her memory and awareness. So much had happened to her since the last time she had been here. Then, the stinking place had seemed like the worst that could happen to her. Now it almost felt comfortable and warm after all she had went through. She tried to move her hands to push herself up, only to find out that she could not. They were painfully joined together behind her back in a reverse-prayer position, her fingers barely scratching the base of her neck, her elbows almost touching each other. As her senses progressively came back, the strain on her joints and ligaments was getting more painful. She tried to move her arms but they were totally paralysed. All she could do was wiggle her fingers.


Looking down, she saw her discoloured and deformed breasts whose bases were once again encircled by a pair of thick iron rings. A chain was connected to each of them, snaking on her belly to disappear into the mud. Have I been anchored to the ground by my breasts? she wondered. The tightness of the rings had trapped blood into her formerly floppy breasts and they were now ballooning like taut, purplish mushroom heads mounted on iron stems. They were throbbing and very sensitive as well.


Then she began to realise that there was something huge stuffed in her vagina. It was stretching her lower belly, causing a dull pain in her whole abdomen. Only a narrow metal handle was visible, protruding between her elongated labia. The handle ended with a ring to which a third chain was affixed. Her tongue was pulled out of her mouth. Her lips could feel that a ring had been pierced through it and she could see that a chain, the fourth of its kind, was also connected to it.


As her vision became less blurred, she followed the chains as they left her body to enter the mud. Five metres away they led to Maria who was trussed up in an identical set of chains. She was looking at her with a mix of hatred and fear in her eyes. Contrarily to Aurelie, she was standing, her chains going down in gracious arcs before entering the mud and going to the French girl. Another vicious game imagined by Pablo! Aurélie told to herself. She did not like the prospect of competing against his wife, in particular as she looked burlier and stronger than herself.


She heard Pablo's voice speaking. She contorted her head and saw him, standing out of the pig pens, behind a fence. The French girl could only make out a few words: "get over the fence" and "GO!"


At that instant Maria made a couple of steps backwards until the four chains were taut, braced on her legs and tried to tug, but the lighter girl had shoved her heels into the mud and managed to remain in place, in spite of the pain she was feeling in her vagina.


Maria lost her step and slipped on the mud, landing on her huge buttocks, breathing heavily from the effort while Aurélie remained standing. The French girl braced on her feet and yanked hard on the chains just as Maria fell and managed to haul her over one metre. Aurélie felt some warmth behind her. Turning her head slightly, she noticed a bed of red hot coals just behind her. She had to change direction a little to avoid stepping, or worse, falling into them. Seeing that Maria was readying herself to prevent any more tugging, the French girl took the opportunity to take a couple of deep breaths, recovering some strength and calm the throbbing in her vagina. Her chained and stretched tongue was causing her to drool abundantly over her chest.


Maria decided to change direction to see if she could get her opponent off-balance and instead of pulling decided to charge at full speed to try to make her fall into the red hot coals. Aurélie was still resting and the Latina girl's unexpected move took her totally aback. She fell backwards and landed hard on the hot coals, which sizzled against her buttocks. Screaming with pain, she struggled frantically to kick herself out of the burning bed, while a stinking smoke drafted around her filthy, naked body. She managed to scramble backwards out of the coals, which at the same time made her closer to her fence.


Maria wanted to pull the girl again over the bed of coals but her plan backfired as the French girl used her momentum after rolling away to give a strong tug, so that Maria's feet were been roasted as she tried to regain her footing.


Aurélie was right next to the fence, Maria had to act quickly. She noticed a metal post to her left and figured that if she managed to pass the chain around it, she could prevent her opponent from leaving the area. Running toward the post, Maria managed to go around it while Aurélie was trying to tug and jump over the fence. Aurelia was brutally yanked to a stop, making her feel as if her vagina was going to be pulled out of her belly. Maria's victory was short-lived though as sharp pain exploded in all the chained areas of her body. As she fell to the floor, she was in too much pain to realise that her opponent was in the same situation. Aurelia was squirming in the smelly mud, electricity coursing through her sex and tongue, blinding her and making her jerk uncontrollably on the ground.


Maria managed to roll away from the post to break contact and lie there, panting. Aurelia, a couple of metres away, was doing the same. She could still feel her vagina clenching around the huge intruder, as if her inner muscles could squash it to crumbles. Progressively through, the pain subsided in her wrecked body. She painfully got on her feet again as she readied to make the final step that would bring her above the fence, but she could see that her opponent was stirring too. Again, the two human pigs were tugging at each other with the most sensitive parts of their bodies, stretching the skins, racking their insides. Both girls were at the verge of collapsing. They were sweating and panting hard, their legs were shaking under them as they braced to yank harder. But slowly, the heavier Latina was gaining, centimetre by centimetre she was dragging Aurélie away from the fence.


The French girl was exhausted, something the heavier woman took advantage of to drag her as if she were a piece of paper. She was now nearing the bed of coals again. Aurelia tried to resist but it was to no avail. She saw the glowing coals approaching until she was forced to step on them. With a loud yelp, she managed to jump and fall into the mud. The combination of pain and exhaustion caused her to fall limp, barely conscious.


Maria reached the far end of the fence dragging the dead weight behind her. The fence was covered in barbed wire. She waited for a while to regain her strength before attempting to make one clean jump over it.

The body of the French girl was resting on a small puddle of mud, which caused her to regain consciousness with a scream as the puddle was a heavily irritating liquid that felt as if it were eating away the skin of her buttocks.


Hearing the screams of agony behind her was all the motivation Maria needed. Bracing herself, she lunged for the fence and passed over it with only minor lacerations. At least the pull was enough to bring the french suffering body form the nasty pool and pain and exhaustion took over her, everything going black.

Chapter 19: Linked fates

Maria's look of triumph did not last long as she saw Pablo approach her with a loaded syringe. For the second time, he put the woman he had sworn eternal love to to sleep. With both women now unconscious he set to work on the final part of his plan. He carried Maria's body and laid her on the top of a narrow table, face up. Then he laid the comparatively petite French girl on top of the first, also face up.


He started by piercing the French girl through the left wrist with a thick bolt, passing it also through the Mexican woman left wrist. Then he used a nut to join both arms together. He repeated the process with their right wrists. Now both girls were secured to each other. Pablo then turned to their legs, where he did the same with their ankles. by means of long bolts was passing behind their Achilles' tendon. As he screwed them through their flesh, they scraped the outer layers of their bones. The inhuman pain brought the girls back to consciousness. They tried to move their transfixed limbs but this only caused more agony as the bolts ground against the fresh wounds.


To better fix both girls together, Pablo quickly coiled a length of barbed wire around their waists, pulling it tight so as to press their bodies together. Aurélie felt the nasty little barbs stab into her skin and cut her breathing. The flaccid body of the other girl was pressing against her back, a touch that she found disgusting, in particular as both women were sweating profusely by now.


Meanwhile, Pablo brought out a long and thick skewer. To Aurélie's horror, he grabbed her floppy, stretched left breast and pressed the tip of the skewer against its side. Then he began to push it. The sharp steel point easily broke through the skin. The poor French girl screamed to the top of her lungs as the cruel Mexican man transfixed it from side to side. The skin began to protrude on the opposite side and suddenly the skewer emerged from the ball of throbbing female flesh. Pablo seized that opportunity to thread it through the last link of a heavy chain and then he continued by piercing the spike through her second breast. At the other end of that chain was a 10-kg spiked ball, which he placed on the table on her side, with the chain coiled around it.


By now, Aurélie was screaming continuously. Every breath felt like a renewed torture as she had to lift the heavy spike, which was moving through her throbbing glands. While her mouth was wide open, he took a pair of pincers and grabbed her tongue. Stretching it out of her howling mouth, he proceeded to coil a thin line of barbed wire around it, as tight as he could so that it looked like a hour-glass, with its tip bulging and swelling rapidly. He attached it to a thick chain, which he coiled inside her mouth, forcing it wide open, filled with the taste of blood and rust. The last link of the chain was connected to a large ring, which Pablo pierced through her septum.


As a final touch, Pablo got a piece of maggot-infested meat, a leftover from her day as a scarecrow, and shoved it deep up her vagina, until it was completely stuffed with it. Then he proceeded to sew her vulva lips together, trapping the disgusting contents along with its hungry inhabitants in her most intimate place. All along she was screaming to the top of her lungs, while squirming as much as she could. Under her, she could hear Maria moaning and cursing in Spanish. Aurélie was resenting the fact that, being on top, she was protecting her from torture. It seemed that Pablo was spending all his deviant creativity on herself.


Nearly mad with pain and anguish, Aurélie could not believe her eyes when Pablo got some wooden boards and started nailing them along the side of the table. Then she screamed louder as she suddenly realised that she was not lying on the top of a table, but on the bottom of a coffin, which the Mexican torturer was rapidly building around the women. In no time, the two women were trapped inside a wooden box.


This drove Maria mad. She had always been claustrophobic and the prospect of being enclosed into a box made her panic. She began to jerk and kick and arch her heavy body with violent bouts of rage. She was screaming like a demented woman. On top of her, Aurélie seemed to bounce and wave like a cork on a tempestuous sea. She was too weak to prevent the strong girl from moving and she was manipulated like a puppet as her limbs were bolted to Maria's. The Latina girl's buckling was so fierce that it was threatening to break the coffin apart. Irritated by her, Pablo produced a transparent plastic bag and placed it over Maria's head. He tied a string around her neck to prevent it from moving.


The bag did little to muffle her screams but soon the depletion of her oxygen began to force her to reduce the violence of her squirming. As she tried to breathe, the plastic was sucked against her sweat-soaked face. Its inner surface was blurred with condensation. Maria opened her mouth wide and the bag was forming a shallow cup inside her lips, alternately hollowing and expanding as she tried to breathe in or expelled more noxious gases in the confined space surrounding her face. A trickle of air was passing around her neck, bringing little drops of life to the choking woman. They were enough to keep her alive, but too little to allow her to struggle. Progressively, her struggling receded until it became a mere twitching and trembling. Aurélie could hear her laboured hissing just centimetres from her ears. She could feel the desperate attempts her former opponent was making to stay alive.


Focusing his attention back to the French girl, he placed his fingers around her left eye, pulling the eyelid by the lashes to near her eyebrows. Then he used an industrial-grade stapler to fixes it in place. Three staples were deeply embedded into the sensitive flesh, forcing Aurelia's eye wide open, which gave her a strange expression. After the process was repeated with the other eyelid, her face looked even more panicked than before as her eyes seemed to be bulging out of her face. The poor girl was desperately trying to close her eyes, to no avail. Tears began to flow down her cheeks.


Pablo carried a heavy metal rail, about 40 kg, and placed in the coffin, alongside the women, reducing even more the space inside the box. The ends of the rail were soldered to two chains ending with thick manacles that were closed around Aurélie's ankles. Then Pablo secured a bolt and nut just besides the one already transfixing her ankles. He screwed them tight with a wrench, as if the weak and restrained girl still had any chance of removing them. Finally, before closing the lid, as a final present to her former pen pal, he placed a couple of rats inside before nailing the lid shut. Once the last nail had been driven deep in the wood, the frantic women felt their coffin been moved about and placed into a car.


The two moaning girls were now plunged in darkness. They could feel the rats crawling around and over their sweaty bodies, their noses and whiskers rummaging all over their skin. Maria was producing horrible, gagging sound as she battled against asphyxia. She kept banging her fists and heels against the wooden walls in panic. She was shaking her head from side to side, vainly trying to get rid of the sweat-filled plastic that was now stick tight to her face. Aurélie's weight resting on top of her was making things worse, as was the cramped box surrounding their limbs. Her lungs were burning, her mind was entirely focused on breathing. She had found that if she breathed at a very slow, deliberate pace, the bag was not sucked into her mouth, allowing some air to enter. But now that the lid had been nailed, the air in the coffin too was getting thick, breathed and re-breathed by the two suffering women. As a result, what little bit of gas that trickled into her lungs was mostly composed of carbon dioxid, bringing little relief to Maria's throes.


Maria began to contort more violently, banging her skull against the bottom of the coffin. Aurelia could feel her body jerking under hers. The Mexican girl was no longer able to control her breathing. She was trying to suck hard. The bag was literally embedded in her face. Her lungs seemed to be filled with burning gasoline, her eyes were bulging out. She emitting strange, sinister gargles. At last, her body jolted in a last spasm and then remained still. Aurelia was unable to detect any hiss coming from her mouth, or any heaving in her ample chest. With a feeling of extreme horror, she realised she was now lying on a corpse, entombed with a cadaver, bolted to it! This almost caused her to throw out, which would probably have killed her, choked in her own vomit, but she managed to stop the urge at the last moment.


After some time, the vehicle stopped and the coffin was roughly manhandled. At some point, she was angled awkwardly, her feet higher than her head as she could hear the coffin grinding against the floor. With a jolt, her position became horizontal again. And then Aurélie heard the sound she had been dreading: the sound of earth thrown over the box. She screamed with inhuman terror. She was about to be buried alive along a dead body! She shrieked and banged her fists, kicked her toes against the wood. Her gaping mouth, packed with heavy chain and her strangled tongue did not allow her to produce meaningful words though.


Pablo smiled as he heard the muffled sound coming out of the box. It meant at least one of  the victims was still alive and aware of what was happening.


In spite of her frantic shrieks, the earth continued to land on the coffin, until it finally stopped, unless it could no longer be heard because she was now too deep to hear anything. The hopelessness of her situation suddenly appeared to the terrified French girl. Everything was dark around her. Maria's body was still warm. Then she felt a sting of pain in her left toes, the hungry rats were trying to gnaw at her. She kicked at the rodent, which squeaked and crawled away. At least for the moment this seemed to be enough to make the rats busy themselves on the corpse below her, probably preferring the unmoving feet over the twitching ones.


The air was already thick with her and the rats' respiration. She could feel the maggots moving inside her vagina, making it itch disagreeably. Maria's body would soon begin to rot, making the atmosphere inside the coffin unbearable. Aurélie realised that her death would be the slowest and the most dreadful that could be imagined. Unless she managed to escape. Her mind began to churn at high speed, reflecting about possible ways to get out of her tomb. That's when she remembered of the spiked balls Pablo had chained to the spike pierced through her breasts. Maybe she could use it as a tool to dig herself out?


She felt around with her hand until she found the ball. It was heavy, prickling with sharp spikes but she found that she could hold it by the ring to which the chain was fixed. As she moved her arms, pain was throbbing in her transfixed wrist. Moreover, feeling Maria's arms moving along with hers like a macabre puppet made her feel the urge to puke. Something she had better not do with that chain stuffed inside her mouth. As she moved about, her abs were contracting, which caused great pain as the barbed wire coiled around her waist was grinding into her flesh.


Shutting her mind to any other feeling, Aurélie began to scrape the spiked ball against the wooden lid, attacking it where her hands could reach it, which was in the area over her navel. In a movement that missed the target she gave a huge tug to the bar skewering her breasts, almost making her pass out in pain. She hissed through her teeth as she fought the white pain throbbing through her panting breasts.


Once she had recovered from the shock, she continued her efforts, scraping at the wood with the sharp spikes, feeling chips of wood and dust landing on her lap. In the dark, it was difficult to assess her progress until, at some point, she felt and heard that she was now digging into a different material. She had managed to pierce a hole through the wood. Something began to flow through it. It was sand and gravel. It was dry and warm. Frantically, she continued grinding into the wood, widening the hole. Dust began to fly in the thickened atmosphere of the coffin, making her cough. The rats were getting frantic too, crawling in circle around Maria's body.


As Aurélie kept raking the spiked ball against the lid, more sand poured into her tomb, forming a heap that was slowly filling the bottom of the coffin, engulfing Maria. But suddenly the pouring slowed down and was replaced by a ray of light. She realised that she had not been buried very deep. Maybe it was another trick from Pablo, willing to leave her a chance to escape, another deadly challenge. Her hope strengthened by the sight of light, Aurélie kept widening  the hole, causing more sand to fall in. She was progressing towards her head, shaping an oblong hole that was about half as wide as the coffin. She imagined that it would be enough for her to squeeze herself out.


At last it seemed that the hole would be large enough to let her pass through. From her position, the only thing she could see was the blue, cloudless sky. The coffin had been buried less than one foot deep and the gravel and sand that had been over the hole was now heaped on Aurélie midsection, forming a vague cone. She pushed it towards her feet as well as she could to gain some room to move. Then she tried to sit up. She had not extended the hole to her head for two reasons: firstly, she was afraid to manhandle the heavy spiked ball so close to her face, and secondly because she did not want the earth to fall over her head. As a result, she now had to duck her head and contort her neck to reach the closest side of the hole, which was just over her neck.


After several fruitless attempts, she managed to do it. Her head was out of the dreaded coffin! She could feel the ragged edge of the hole raking her nape, but still she felt comforted. But now she came upon a new problem: she was still moored to Maria by her wrists, ankles and waist. If she were to get out of the hole, she would either have to drag her with her or find a way to free herself from the corpse. Maria was rather fat. She was heavy and thick. Lifting her would be difficult for the smaller French girl. And squeezing their two bodies through the makeshift opening would be hard too. So Aurélie decided to try and free herself.

First she began to uncoil the barbed wire that was strangling their mid-sections. This was a slow and painful process as she could not avoid to prick her palms and fingers and to claw at her belly flesh. It took her a long time to free her waist from the cruel wire, and it left her waist bloody and raked with countless angry red linear cuts. Now she would have to free her wrists and ankles.


Pablo had used big bolts and nuts to pierce them together. She found out that she could easily unscrew the nuts, which then allowed her to pull the bolts out of their bloody holes. The process was extremely painful and gory but it was not overly long and difficult. Actually, it took her less time to free all four limbs than it had to free her waist.


At last she was detached from Maria.

Chapter 20: The desert


Aurélie prudently straightened herself and peered out of the hole. Violent light and heat welcomed her and for a moment she could see nothing. When her eyes were accustomed to the harsh rays of the sun, she saw that she was in the middle of a vast bare area, covered with a mix of sand and pebbles with the occasional boulder to break the monotony. A few dry shrubs were scattered across the desert scape, interspersed with tall saguaro cacti. High in the blinding-blue sky, a few vultures were soaring in circles, probably attracted by the strong smell of dead corpse that was emanating from the coffin. Aurélie shivered. She looked around to see if Pablo or any sign of human presence could be seen but her head was just barely above ground level and she could not see farther than a hundred of metres.


She tried to stand up but was brutally reminded of the presence of the heavy spiked ball chained to her breasts when it yanked on the bar that was piercing them. She moaned and tears came to her eyes as she knelt back down, massaging her throbbing chest. She waited for the pain to recede and then pulled on the chain, lifted the ball and put it out of the hole. Then she hoisted herself out, doing her best not to yank on the chain again. As her wrists and ankles were still transfixed with thick bolts, moving them was painful and she could not use too much strength. Moreover, the soft ground kept crumbling under her efforts. Getting out of the hole was not easy.


At last however, she managed to roll on the desert ground, next to the spiked ball. Her lower legs were still hanging down the hole, as her ankles were chained to that heavy rail. The chains were about one metre long and  were already taut. The French girl would have to lift the rail out of the coffin in order to go farther. But for the moment she just needed some rest. Lying on her back, panting heavily, she was trying to recover from the pain she felt in her wrists and breasts. The chain was still coiled inside her mouth, keeping it wide open. The dry, hot air of the desert was already desiccating her tongue and her forced-open eyes.


Aurélie knelt by the hole and grabbed the chain that was leading into it. Bracing herself, she pulled on the chain and pulled the rail in a vertical position. Then she began to hoist it out, centimetre by centimetre. It was difficult to the poor, tired girl as the rail was weighing two thirds of her own weight and she had probably never lifted anything as heavy. After a lot of efforts, she managed to bring the rail out of the hole and lay it on the ground. Panting and sweating, she realised that she would have to drag that dead weight with her. The prospect was not pleasing.


She looked around for any clue about where to go. In all directions the desert was extending to the horizon. No sound could be heard, no pattern in the vegetation or soil could be detected. The only hint was the tracks left by the car that had brought her here. Following them might be the shortest way to civilisation. At least it was the surest, as she would not risk to get lost. But it also was the surest way to fall back into her torturer's claws. Aurélie hesitated a lot and then she decided that she would follow the tracks until she could find a better solution. Maybe they would lead her to a road, or she would see hints of a nearby village.


And thus she began to walk under the warm morning sun. She had to carry the spiked ball by its chain so as to prevent it from bouncing against her belly and pull down on her stretched breasts. At the same time, she had to drag the rail behind. As it was chained to both her ankles, it remained perpendicular to her line of walk, ensuring maximum friction as it trailed behind her. With each step it tugged on the holes pierced behind her Achilles' tendons, causing pain.


After some time, Aurélie noticed a change in the monotone colour of the area in front of her. As she approached, painstakingly, it appeared that the truck had passed over an area filled with very small cacti. It seemed to extend on each side as far as she could see. She could either walk along it and hope to go around, or follow the tracks. Finally, the French girl decided to try and follow the tracks. Maybe, the wheels of the car had crushed the cacti enough to make them harmless.


And thus she began to walk, stepping carefully on the tracks left by the car, trying to avoid stepping on the needles. By now, her eyes were very dry and it was difficult to see. With each step, the spiked ball that was dangling from her breasts was bouncing against her belly and thighs, stabbing its pricks into her skin. She had been right in guessing the car had destroyed most of the cacti, but some had just been buried under the gravel and their spines were darting up angrily. Whenever she stepped on them, the thin needles would pierce the skin of her soles and break, remaining buried in her flesh and torturing her feet with every step. The poor girl could not even try to remove them as she would have needed to sit down, something that was impossible in her present place without adorning her butt with a nasty collection of cactus needles.


Her progress was often stopped by the rail getting stopped by the plants, forcing her to manoeuvre it over them. On one of those occasions, she failed to notice another cactus just in front of the one she had just passed the railing over, and it stopped both her feet so suddenly that she lost her balance. The heavy ball hanging from her breasts sent her face down over the sand and cacti. Her entire front-side was covered with spines. Her breasts looked like pincushions and even her face had not been spared.


Carefully, she stood back on her feet and began to pull the needles out of her flesh, one by one. Alas, half the time the spines just broke into her flesh, preventing her from removing them. The pain was difficult to bear. Once she had done her best, she lifted the rail over the cactus that had blocked her way and continued her progression until at last she walked again on dry sand and pebbles. Aurélie was tiring fast. She was panting and sweating and moaning from the pain. The hot sun was blinding her dry eyes and she could hardly see anymore.


At some point, the tracks reached a large rocky area where they all but disappeared. There were some broken rocks but it was impossible to determine whether they had been fractured by sun heat or under the weight of the truck. Sharp ridges in the rock bed were hurting her feet and it also was sizzling hot. Eggs could probably have been cooked on its surface. Aurélie made an attempt to walk on it but the pain was too high and she hastened to get back to the relative comfort of the gravel, her soles feeling as if they had been seized on a frying pan.


If she wanted to find the truck tracks again, she would have to walk all over the perimeter of the rocky area. The border between the bedrock and the pebble was not sharp but rather, the rock "dissolved" into pebbles, leaving a fringe of crevices and stones that went smaller as one got farther from the solid, contiguous "frying pan". As Aurélie wanted to avoid walking too much, she had to stay as close to the solid bedrock as possible, and thus she had to find her way through a mosaic of stones of various sizes. She had to be careful not to twist an ankle or stumble. Also, the rail had a tendency to get stuck in the spaces between the stones, forcing her to turn and lift the rail out. This was a painful and tiring work and she was progressing with painstaking slowness. At last however she distinguished a place where the stones had been recently disturbed. She had found the tracks again and she resumed following them.


She continued her progression under the hot sun. Her stapled-open eyes were now dry, filled with dust and sand. They were burning her immensely but she had no more tears to wash them. Her vision had decreased accordingly, and all she was now able to perceive where blurry colours. Following the tracks left by the car was difficult now. Moreover, dragging the rail behind her had exhausted her a great lot. The hot Mexican sun was drinking the sweat as soon as it poured from her skin pores, except under her armpits and into the folds around her sex. She had to make frequent pauses where she collapsed on her knees and rested her forehead on her forearms set on the burning ground. Her mouth was parched and dry as paper. At some point, the chain that had been packed in her mouth had fallen from it. Since then it had been dangling down, yanking at her tongue and septum with every step. She had tried to pack the chain back into her mouth but without success. The weight of the chain was keeping her tongue outstretched, resting against her chin and preventing her from closing her mouth. As a result, the warm desert breeze kept blowing dust into her gaping mouth, increasing her dehydration and thirst feeling.


As she toiled forward ever more slowly, she lost track of the time. At some point, she saw several vultures flying around at some distance. She would have avoided them, but the car tracks seemed to lead straight at them and she preferred not to move away from it, as she was not sure she could find it again. As she approached the place they were circling around, she began to notice the smell of rotting flesh. The vultures were busy around a hole in the ground. Was it another victim of the sadistic man?


As Aurelie came closer, her blood froze as she realised that the body the vultures were feasting on was Maria's. Pablo had somehow driven the truck along a very wide loop. He must have stopped somewhere to erase the tracks after having left the loop, or maybe he had driven away on the patch of bare rock where no tracks would be left. Aurelie felt desperate. She would have to follow the tracks again and investigate for any other track nearby, or sign of sand moved recently... That is when she noticed that with the rail trailing behind her, she had been erasing the tracks herself. It was now very difficult to see! And even more so with her eyes close to being blind!


Still there was nothing else to do but try. She decided to walk back on her own trail. She would first investigate the naked stone bed and it would be easier to reach by returning along her path. By now, she was walking very slowly. After each step she had to stop and rest. Her legs seemed unable to carry her any farther. Her breasts were killing her and her lower belly was bloodied by the spiked balls, while flies were swarming on it. Exhausted, unable to stand up, she continued her progression on all fours, still dragging the rail behind her.


As she crawled on the sizzling gravel, she perceived a shadow zooming past her. Contorting her neck, she looked at the blinding sky and saw that some vultures were now circling above her, their dark shapes forming a strong contrast with the whiteness behind them, enough to allow her dry eyes to notice them.


She heard something behind her. Turning around, she saw one of the black birds making little hops on the ground, following her, turning its head as it examined her body, measured her movements, obviously trying to decide whether they were those of a dying animal. Aurelie waved her arms and forced her parched throat to emit a croaking hiss. The scavenger realised there was still some fight into this prey and half-flew a couple of metre away, stopping when it saw that the girl was not pursuing her.


Somewhat relieved, the French woman turned away and took again to crawl forward, dragging her anchors behind her. She heard the vulture hop prudently behind her, while more of its kind were circling above her. From time to time, when she remained immobile for too long, some bird made a low-altitude pass over her, its black eyes eagerly staring at her. Those false alerts kept Aurélie on her toes. She knew she could not afford to rest. She had to remain active and be ready to scare the vultures away. In time this began to draw on her energy as much as dragging the rail was. Judging by the height of the sun, it was close to noon. She still had eight or nine hours of daylight. If she could survive them, she would be safe from the birds until the next dawn.


But as her strengths diminished, the birds of prey became bolder, flying lower, making more frequent survey passes. After some time, she heard the sound of flapping wings behind her and as she looked backward, she saw that a second vulture had joined the first. By now, Aurélie had reached a point where dragging the rail had become almost too hard. She had to combine the strength of one leg and two arms to move one side of the rail, before switching to the other side. And in between she had to recollect some strength. Her lungs were burning. They had accumulated dust and sand and were not working with their usual efficiency. Her chest was heaving deeply as she tried to forced them to gather more hot air. She kept her head hanging lower as she was braced on her arms, her filthy red mane resting on the ground around her face.


At some point, while she was recovering her energy in such a way, she felt a sharp pain in her left sole. Instinctively, she kicked her foot in a rattling of chain and hear a ruffle of flapping wings behind her. Looking back, she realised that one of the stragglers had grown bold enough to steal a peck at her. A red wound was throbbing in the middle of her sole. The other vultures, seeing that one of them had succeeded in getting some meat from their soon-to-die prey, got frantic. Several of them landed, surrounding Aurelie while remaining way out of reach of her legs and arms. The Red-head tried to scare them by kneeling up and waving her arms but with little success. The birds contented themselves with half-opening their wings, getting ready to take off without actually doing it. After a few more failed attempts, they realised that their prey could not actually harm them and they began to inch toward her, swinging their naked neck from side to side as they tiny eyes tried to gauge her resistance.


One of the bird landed on the rail behind her, spreading its wings to balance itself when the French girl tugged on the heavy metal object. The added weight was slowing her down even more. After yanking on the chains a few times she faced the bird and tried to kick it. It hopped away, easily dodging her attack, but it came back to the rail as soon as she turned her back again.


More and more animals started congregating around her. Maria's fat body had probably been entirely consumed by now, leaving only clean white bones. The vultures wanted another meal now. Aurélie saw them getting closer and closer. She tried to kick or punch them, to throw stones at them. At first, this scared them away a little but they grew accustomed to her feeble attacks and soon they hardly reacted when she moved. With two vultures perched on the rail, Aurélie could no longer move forward. She was anchored to the same point now. She felt so tired. Her limbs were heavy. Her wounds were torturing her. She was nearly blind. She was on all fours, shaking her arms from time to time to scare the closest birds.


A vulture felt hardy enough to attempt a peck at one of her legs. She twitched as its strong beak pinched the skin of her calf. The raptor hastily drew back its head but not before it had managed to catch a piece of warm flesh, which it gulped down with relish. It came as a black avalanche. Frenzy got the other birds as they saw that the meal was ready and helpless. They all gathered around her at once, clawing and pecking at the girl's naked body.


It was impossible for her to scare them away with a heavy ball dangling from her breast and unable to raise her feet much to kick them off. She tried to scream but her throat was too parched and coarse. She curled into a ball, on her knees, ducking her head between her arms to protect her face.


Any part of her body that she tried to cover and protect caused others to be offered to the hungry beasts. Soon enough the skin from her back was peeled raw. She tried to shove the bare necks of the birds away with her arms but then her breasts became vulnerable by those surrounding her head. Her elongated breasts were an easy target where they protruded from her sides. Aurelie's buttocks and thighs received also a lot of attention as the flesh was softer and prominently exposed by her fetal position. A vulture took her right breast in its beak and began to pull on it, stretching the soft piece of bruised flesh away from the crying girl's torso while the others took the opportunity to bury their beaks on it at several places


The pain in her back, buttocks and thighs was tremendous. Aurélie tried to resist the urge to protect them, knowing that that would offer more tender parts to their eager beak. But soon the agony was too much. With a strange croak, she bounced and rolled on her left side. Immediately, the birds that had been perched on her back had take off and land a few metres away. Unfortunately, they were soon enough replaced by new birds, even more hungry than them.


Before she had a chance to cover herself again, a pair of vultures were at her abdomen while a third one tried to peck at the flesh of her crotch and inner thighs  By closing her legs she managed to catch the bird's neck, strangling it, while it kept a morsel of vulva firmly held in its beak. It was a struggle for survival of two desperate animals. However the bird was not alone. Its co-species were using their beaks and claws on her back, distracting her. She reached between her legs and grabbed the bird's neck with both hands and twisted it until she heard a sick crack. The scavenger opened its beak as it died, its neck broken.


It was a small triumph for the agonizing girl, as it caused the rest of the vultures to be a little more cautious. They began to approach her from behind her back, grabbing a piece of flesh before flying away from harm to swallow it. Aurélie kept rolling from side to side but she always did it too late. There was always some bird behind her that managed to pull some flesh from her back. In her desperate moves to escape the scavengers, she got the chains linking her feet to the rail entangled, twisted together. She could not even see or guess in which direction to roll to disentangle them. She tried to stretch her body only to notice with a  painful tug that the ball hanging from her breasts was also held in the mess of chains. This was probably the spiked ball that had started the tangle and now there was no way to tell how to undo it. She had basically spoiled her last possibilities to defend herself. The more she struggled, the more she entangled herself, and her breasts were painfully stretched down.


It was now actually the birds who helped her get free of the tangled mess, little by little pieces of her breasts started to disappear until the chain was no longer restraining her chest as the last part of her mammaries lied on the ground separated from her body


Unknown to the girl fighting for her life, a silent figure was enjoying the show from the distance with a  pair of binoculars.


Aurélie had lost of lot of blood, which added to her dehydration was making her very weak and unable to move much. The vultures had lost all defiance now. They were surrounding her body, pecking at it, tearing bits of flesh from her. She had been unable to protect her face and now her eyes were gone. Blinded, her skull seeming on the verge of exploding because of all the tortures she was suffering, she was totally helpless now. She fell something rummaging between her thighs. She tried to clench them tighter but she had no strength anymore. The vulture pressed its beak further, pushing its head between her buttocks and then right into her stretched anus.


Aurélie let out a last croak of agony as the bird pierced her bowels, and then she died.

Review This Story || Email Author: darknessmonger and Aurelie Catena



MORE BDSM STORIES @ SEX STORIES POST