It was from the other door of the chamber that two other men entered and walked to where she stood. One was tall and slender and wore the robes of the Inquisitors office, while the other was short starkly, arms and chest rippling with muscles and wearing a black leather mask. She could see in this hour of her horror his eyes through the two slits how they roamed over the gentle up thrust of her breasts, flair of her supple hips hidden almost sensually under the thin covering of her night gown. She felt naked in this mans sight and shuddered inwardly at the thought of being so considering she was of chaste mind, body & soul. She looked down to the chamber floor just as the tall one in the robes stepped up to her.

“Are you Francesca deMeune daughter of William and Isabelle deMeune, “he asked? She felt then saw his shadow fall across her, heard his voice asking the question, looking up she whispered softly that she was indeed that daughter of the House of deMeune. He smiled a rather parched smile then said in a voice cold and almost distant, “You know there are allegations against you for the “ secular crime of witchcraft and the practice of the black arts, don’t you Francesca,” he said with a crooked smile, “ allegations only at this point but none the less very serious ones.” He stood in front of her his dark eyes searching her pretty features, searching for some salient point that would for her redeem herself but found none, only soft brown eyes near brimming with tears and a quivering lower lips. He reached out and gently caressed her soft cheek with the back of his hand, his eyes on her throughout as he spoke the frightful words “You may prepare her.” that made her teary eyes widen mouthing a silent “ nooooo “ her head shaking from side to side as she tried to step back struggling in the men’s cruel grip.

She gasped in horror, her lithe, slender, body tightening up in their grasp as they picked her up, her sobbing shrieks echoing about the chamber walls as they carried her between them twisting and writhing in their iron grip, the leg irons chains rattling as she kicked out at them to the cruel device. The man who had come in with the Inquisitor stepped over to her, his eyes darkly intense as he reached up gripping the front of her gown with both hands and rendering it down from her shoulders, the thin material tearing open exposing her soft up thrust breasts, the small pink nipples, the smoothness of the flesh across her flat belly and slender hips down to her shaved cunt a slight wetness showing. He moved his brutish hands down a bit more gripping the thin torn material again ripping it all the way down as one of the other men holding her grabbed it at the back and tore it from her leaving her naked and sobbing in their cruel grasp and the mans dark eyes roaming slowly over her young supple flesh. He stepped aside saying as he did, “ Bring her closer so she may know truth here.” himself stepping closer and to the side his beefy hand on a small wheel at the racks side. His dark beady eyes searched her face, seeing the naked fear in them, how her lower lip quivered so as he spoke, “ Your time here will be gauged by the glass on the table,” he said “and I can assure you girl that the sand is slow as it trickles through the glasses narrow point.” he finished. With that he moved slightly to the left of the wheel saying to her, “ Make no mistake Francesca deMeaune, if truth is to be found in your words then it will be here.” With a deft turn of his wrist he turned the wheel a slight amount and watched with some amusement her eyes bulge out, saw her struggle more, heard her groan in the men’s grasp as up through the several well placed holes on the bed of the rack the tips of several sharp spikes protruded slightly from the holes, just enough to let her see what was in due process for her. With a flips of the wrist the spiked disappeared into the holes and he stepped back from the rack nodding to the men to continue.

They moved with alacrity, the one man moving behind her more a she started to struggled in his grasp as he gripped both her upper arms pulling them back making her breasts thrust out more, her sobs and shrieks s filled the chamber a she writhed and twisted on his firm unrelenting grip as the other man undid the shackles about her slender wrists. She writhed hard in the mans grasp as the other went down on one knee and undid the cruel chains that encased her slender ankles, moaned pitifully, her tear filled eyes searching the man in the robes face, “ Please good Sire I implore you I am truly innocent of what you have heard or been told,” she writhed and sobbed as she felt the man at her feet grip her slender ankles and start to lift her up, a strangled sob escaping from her soft red lips as she was picked up by the men, lifted into the air and carried to the cruel device.

Cruelly, harshly she was placed on the coarse bed, the man holding her ankles gripped them tight making her cry out more, as the man holding her arms made her sit for a second while he pulled them forward sliding his hand up her arms to her wrists pulling them quickly up over her head as she struggled and sobbed then roughly pulling them back bring her hard down upon the bed. He leaned over the bed, part of his girth covering part her head & face as he gripped her wrists in his iron grip slipping the coarse rope first on one cinching it tight, then the other doing the same ignoring her somewhat muted mewling’s as he did so, then stepping back he watched the other man slip each slender ankle into the coarse rope cuffs, cinching them tightly about each ankle. Both men stood back and looked at her, eyes roaming over her slender, firm body as she writhed, twisted & wept, looking back and forth between her bound wrists, the look of horror on her pretty face growing as she struggled and sobbed with the cruel ropes and harshness of the coarseness of the wood on her supple back.

The robbed figure had stood by impassively, watching the girls horror unfold for her as the men picked her up with such ease, carrying her writhing, twisting, her sobs and cries echoing off the stone walls to the rack, the torturer quickly stripping her of her gown, the men with ease and efficiency taking her and placing her on the rack, securing her so cruelly. He watched as she twisted in the ropes that held her slender wrists and ankles, seeing the stark look of naked horror on her soft pretty features as she was prepared for her questioning. He took 3 long steps to her, standing beside her his eyes roaming over the swell of her breasts, the flare of her hips, the writhing of her form upon the cruel device, noting that even now a fine patina of sweat was forming over her body, the sweat of fear that was now deep in her eyes.

Pleased thus far he then turned, walking to the small nearby table replete with implements and small devices, his hand moving slowly over each one then stopping mat one in particular that he felt would bring her questioning to a start. He let his fingers gently slid over the smooth surface of it, feeling the hardness and coldness of the steel a soft cold smile crossing his face as he picked it up, hefting it in his hand feeling the weight, giving a turn of the screw, watching with pleasure as the petals opened ever so slightly, then closing it. He held it in his hand for a few long seconds, eyes closed the plaintive sobbing of the accused reverberating softly off the stone wall, knowing that under his guiding hand and words they sobs would in time become a crescendo of unholy screams from her as she was put to the questioned.

Opening his eyes he smiled a slight smile then turned looking at the unholy tableau then with measured slow steps he moved to the writing sobbing girl the device in hand stopping to look down at her as she writhed & twisted on rough bed of the rack the coarse wood digging into her flesh a she did so. He looked at her, studied her female beauty the way her breast jiggled a she twisted and squirmed below him, her hips splayed, her cunt shaved and exposed, a slight wetness showing through. He stood over her and studied her implement in hand a odd crooked smile coming over his features as she momentarily stopped and looked at him, her eyes falling upon the device he held in his hands a horrific recognition dawning in her eyes and face a she beheld the hideousness of the device, a spate of fresh tears forming a she gazed upon it, knowing its true intent.

Her writhing and twisting became more pronounced as she looked at the device in his hands, her soft brown eyes pleading with him, filling with fresh tears, her lower lips quivering, pulling on the ropes about her slender wrists as she sought to implore him, “ S,S, Sire,” she stammered writhing, tugging at the ropes, “ I implore you S,S,ire that I am innocent of this, “ she sobbed as more tears came and she struggled with in herself in vain, “ please kind Sire, do not do this terrible thing.” she begged her teary eyes imploring him as her body shook and convulsed, her gazed seemingly riveted to the device in his hands.

He gazed down at her, his cold eyes roaming over her young flesh, taught, smooth soft to the touch, flesh that would over the next few hours be used to extract from her a confession that would eventually lead her to the purifying fires of the stake, if she was deemed guilty here. With a soft smile he reached down the back of his hand caressing her smooth wet cheek saying to her, “ My dear child there is no shame or fear here in confessing your allegations to us, “ he said as he looked her in the eyes, gauging her response, watching her eyes dart back and forth fearfully to him, the device then back to him as he spoke, a broken sobbing gasp issuing from her as she looked on in horror as he handed the device slowly to the other man saying, “ if you are innocent of the allegations then you have nothing to fear and will be set free.” he said as the other man took it, turned the screw at the end watching as the petals slowly opened, then leered at the terrified girl then slowly closed them. The Inquisitor stepped back looked at her again then the torturer, nodding “You may begin.” he said.

It was almost with a sadistic glee that the torturer took the device from the Inquisitor, his eyes falling on the stricken girl and turned the screw twice, the smooth petals opening, the torch light dancing grotesquely on the surface of the shiny metal petals, turned the screw twice slowly savouring the terrified girls plight then closing them looking at the Inquisitor as he nodded he placed the device between the girls legs, his one hand reaching down, stubby dirty fingers spreading her lips and with a leering, sadistic grin he took the finger of his other hand, touching the girls clit, rolling it crudely, making her writhe more under his ministrations as he touched her so crudely. He slipped 2 fingers into her roughly worked them in and out of her as she sobbed, pleaded and twisted, sneered at her as her hips started to writhe and gyrate to his crude touch, then slipping his fingers wet from her glistening quim, smirking he reached down and picked up the device, hefted it then brought it to her wetness, pressed it, then started to turn it as he pushed it into her.

She writhed and twisted, sobbed & groaned as she felt his awful touch on her, his fingers in her crudely touching her in the most privates of places, then let out a heart breaking wail, her hips starting to thrash about then lifting off the bed as she felt the coldness of the steel, sobbing horribly as he started to twist & push the device into her, sobbed brokenly as she felt it spread her lips and the coldness of it slid slowly into her wetness, up inside of her, the coldness of her making her shudder deeper, heard his crude grunts as he twisted it as it was pushed into her, then stopped and pulled it back a bit, looked down at her, her pretty features now twisted and changed by the humiliation and shame of what was being done to her. She sobbed pitifully as he slipped it part way out then let out a deep shameful growl a she felt it pushed and turned back into her again, this time sliding in deeper, slower, her hips writhing, her sobs echoing off the stone walls at the hands of these men as she felt the coldness of the device pushed into her fully then stop.

The torturer stood up looking at the Inquisitor then waited as he stepped closer to the girl, again his hand caressing her soft cheek, motioned for the glass to be turned, bent closer to the suffering girl speaking softly, as he caressed her cheek again, “Confess your sins my child and save yourself this needless shame and suffering.” he said his eyes dark upon her as he let them study her pretty features, now twisted in shame and humiliation, roam freely over her young body feeling for the first time a deep hot tingle in his groin. He looked at her as she looked back up at him her lower lip quiver as she tried to speak, her breath coming in short hot gasps of fear and shame, saw from the corner of his eye that the other man tuned the big glass upside down, the sand now trickling out slowly as it would for the next 2 hrs, bent to her eyes now cold on her saying, “You will tell me all the names of the other women involved with you, places where you meet and at what times. “ he said his voice even monotone and cold, his eyes searching hers seeking a flicker of truth that he knew in tyme would come.

Young terrified Francesca looked up at him with red wet eyes, her face a mask of humiliation and pain, looked at him with tearful eyes searching his face for any sign of compassion, seeing none, only his cold eyes on hers a she struggled to speak now very aware of the device that they had so crudely pushed into her, feeling the coldness of the steel buried deep in her exposed womanhood, blinked back the tears and spoke, “ Good Sire,” she stammered, struggling with the words her mind seeking the correct way to beseech him, struggling so, falling short, gasping between sobs, “ I, I, I know not of what you speak good Sire, ha, have never Sire heard of any of this. P, pl, please I am inn, innocent of what you say, m, my father Sir will you, vouch for me.” she ended her eyes searching his face, searching for any sign of belief, compassion, anything that would release her for the horrors of this place she was in. Francesca waited, sobbing, eyes on him, her body writhing in its bonds, the coarseness of the wood digging into her tender soft flesh, lacerating her so, the ropes biting hotly into her slender wrists and ankles as she waiting for what to her was an eternity, eyes searching pitifully to him.

He stood over her listening to her pathetic mewling, his mind intent on seeking a confession, strongly believing this girl was indeed at the heart of the scourge that was now plaguing the town and area, believed it strongly as he looked down at her, wanting nothing more than to stamp this out, looked at her with an intensity that he could see touched her very soul then looked at the torture gave a short curt nod, then looked at the girl again as the man moved to her.

He had watched the Inquisitor bend to her and ask his question, had watched the girl’s response to it and knew what was to come. He listened intently to him as he spoke having heard these words many times over and knew. He watched, saw the look and then the nod, bending himself now grasping the device buried so firmly and deep in the girl, gripped it with a passion that came with his work, his eyes on the terrified girls face, finding pleasure in her tears as his thick, dirty stubby fingers gripped the screw and gave it a full turn, watching her response, then a second full turn giving a slight twist to the device on the second turn.

For Francesca it was the beginning of a new horror, a horror that would send her screaming down a black hole of agony and endless suffering, saw the look on the Inquisitors face, saw the cold cruel look between the two men, saw the knowing nod, watched in teary horror as the torturer bent to her, felt his calloused fingers on her smooth flesh, felt the device in her being moved, then her body stiffening as she felt internally the coldness of the steel start to expand, her body tightening more a she writhed in the beginning throes of agony, looked up at the man bent over her, saw the leering cold look in his eyes, saw the look of cruel pleasure in his eyes, then screamed as she felt again the coldness of the steel expand deep in her, felt the cruelness of the slight turn as the device was turned in her a scream from deep within her that reverberated off the slime covered stone wall of this room of horrors young and pretty Francesca deMeune found herself, a scream that would for hours be never ending as would the incessant questions that were to follow as the sand of the glass slowly trickles through the very narrow waist into the bottom filling it slowly almost in cadence with her screams and torment.