Medusa followed with Alano walking behind her. The torturers had been busy, the room already littered with the sagging bodies of those who had been forced to confess. They'd been left where they'd collapsed. Later they'd be taken to the town centre and burned for their sins. Medusa felt nothing for the agony they had suffered. They were humans and they deserved nothing better than the degradation they infliction upon one another.
Across the room she saw the male who'd kept her so well fed in her cell. He hung upside down against the far wall, his ankles chained together. Despite the uncomfortable position he still franticly tugged at his penis, the member now raw from all of his attention. Blood trickled between his fingers, mixing with the steady stream of seamen dribbling from the twitching end. He raised his head awkwardly, his mouth wide to catch the creamy pink mixture of fluid. With each drop his eyes rolled in his head, the eyelids quivering in perverse joy. He disgusted her.
She was glad to leave him behind and happier to discover she'd have an important audience. It would make the whole experience more enjoyable. The inquisitors looked up at her as she approached and Medusa smiled, running her tongue across her top lip seductively. She watched them squirm at her attentions, pulling their gaze away from her and returning to their study of the words they'd written.
“So, Manuel, is this my surprise?” she asked, drawing her nails across the inquisitors table.
“No, my dear.” The reply came from the shadows. “That would be me.” The curtain behind the inquisitors parted and Thomás de Torquemada stepped into view.
“Bastard,” Medusa sneered. “How nice you could find time to come and see me.”
Torquemada walked into the room, his red clad frame oozing power and self confidence. Europe feared him, quaking in fear at the mere mention of his name. He had more power than the Pope and he used it well to satisfy his own wants and needs whilst following a quest to rid the world of demons, devils and witches.
No one saw the smile flicker across his face, gone before it could truly surface. He had everything he could ever wish for and all he’d had to do was pretend to be a believer. By bowing before the effigy of God and swearing his allegiance to the good fight he'd achieved power like he could never have imagined. The power and the money were all good and well, but it was the other perks he appreciated more.
Especially the women.
Medusa stared back at him, her insides boiling with hatred for the man who'd betrayed their deal. She'd given herself freely and still he'd sent his men to arrest her. The very thought of being near him filled her with fire
Torquemada loved the attention of females. He may have made an oath to be faithful to God, but like every promise he'd ever made he'd rescinded on this one. With his role as Master Inquisitor he'd been placed in a position where women threw themselves at him and he took full advantage of the situation.
The Medusa woman was a case in point, and such a rare beauty. On his travels he'd heard tales of how she'd conquered Spain, leaving a trail of devastation in her wake. He'd known then that she'd be his, that he'd take her and tame her before stripping her of her riches and sacrificing her as an example of his all encompassing power.
Torquemada let his eyes roam over her body and felt his manhood rise beneath his robes. He was going to enjoy watching her confess and then, if time allowed, he would take her one more time. The final insult of rape and abuse would be her dying memory.
Medusa watched Thomás and grinned openly. She could read his thoughts as if he was an open book. She shivered in anticipation at what was to come. The wait would be worth the pain and the agony she'd be forced to endure before her moment of retribution.
Inquisitor and eternal held each others gaze, neither wanting to be the first to show weakness. The standoff was brought to a halt by Manuel, keen to start his work and show the mighty Torquemada what injuries he could inflict upon their special subject.
“This way, bitch.” He took gratification from the expression of disgust that passed along the line of inquisitor’s faces.
“Where would you like me,” Medusa answered, turning with a curtsy.
“You won’t be so loud when I’m done.” Manuel lashed out and kicked her leg, moving her in the direction of the chair on the raised podium.
“And I was under the belief you liked them loud,” Medusa hissed. “At least that’s what I heard from the other cells during the nights.”
“Shut your trap, cunt.” Manuel pulled back his hand and brought it back hard across her face. “You’ll scream for me soon enough.” He forced her down in the chair and began to strap her arms.
“You haven’t got what it takes to make me scream.” Medusa drummed her nails on the wooden arm, impatiently waiting as Manuel fumbled the buckles on the leather bonds.
“We’ll see,” Manuel snarled, pulling the last strap tight, ensuring the metal clasp bit into Medusa’s wrist. “You’ll soon beg me.” He coughed and spat a thick wad of phlegm in her face.
“Manuel that is no way to treat a guest.” Torquemada walked around the table and approached the chair. “She is here to be questioned and we must follow procedure.”
“Fuck you,” Medusa snapped, her body tensing at the close proximity of The Inquisitor.
“You should show me respect.” Torquemada’s fist clenched, his knuckles turning white and swelling around the ruby ring given to him by the Pontiff.
“The same respect you gave me after burying your face in my quim?” She glared at him.
“You poor child.” Torquemada restrained the anger he felt towards her. “I am willing to offer you redemption.” He leaned in close. “All you have to do is kiss my ring and ask me forgiveness.”
“This one small act is all I ask and we will accept it as your confession.” The words fell from his lips like thick saliva. “You can burn with the others and your pain will be over.”
“You offer so much, your Almightiness.” Medusa made no attempt to hide the disdain in her voice. “Hold out your hand and let me beg for mercy.” She was, however, willing to play his game.
Torquemada glanced back at the other inquisitors and saw the consternation on their faces. What he was offering was unheard of and their displeasure was clear. He silenced their mutterings with only a look. “You can leave now,” he ordered.
The inquisitors closed the heavy book, leaving it on the table and retreating behind the curtain. They had no wish to be witness to such behaviour and would ensure that the Pope heard of Torquemada’s deviant actions.
Torquemada waited until he was sure they were gone and then returned his attention to Medusa, holding out his fist and presenting the jewelled ring to her lips.
“One kiss and you will allow me to die?” she asked.
“One kiss and you leave this world absolved,” he assured her, moving the ring until the ruby was almost touching her mouth.
Medusa’s head snapped forward, giving Torquemada no chance to withdraw. In a fluid movement her mouth was open and her tongue snaked out. With tremendous strength the tongue pulled The Inquisitors finger into her mouth and she bit down. She ground her teeth together, working them through flesh and bone with the efficiency of a saw. She moaned as Torquemada’s hot blood sprayed her face and the finger slid, whole, down her gullet. She sucked greedily on the open wound, probing the raw flesh with the tip of the tongue. As she fed she gave something to Torquemada...
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