The black iron rack was set in the windowless dungeon room illuminated by half a dozen candle lanterns hung on brackets around its stone walls.

The Inquisitor, anonymous in his black hood, looked down a Lucy's taut naked body as it was stretched across the stained wooden boards of the rack between the sets of heavy iron cuffs and chains. The lower set connected to her ankles had short chains that were bolted to the foot of the rack, while the upper set had longer chains that were wrapped about the spindle of a windlass, locked in place by a pawl and ratchet mechanism.

Other sinister devices were fitted to the outer frame of the rack, ready to be employed if Lucy did not cooperate.

The Inquisitor stroked her taut, trembling body with surprising gentleness. He savoured the normally soft contours of her breasts, the whirl of her navel and the downward plunging and in-rolling swell of her pussy as it descended between her thighs. Then he looked into her eyes as he stroked her cheeks.

'You really are a very lovely woman,' he said, speaking in measured cultured tones. 'It would be such a pity to spoil your beauty. Yet all you have to do to save yourself is tell me a name.'

Lucy's mind whirled in horror. Save herself from what? What was she accused of? How had she got here?

'I... I don't know who you mean!' she gasped. 'What am I meant to have done?'

'Threatened to upset the natural order of things, of course,' the Inquisitor said gravely, fondling her nipples that shamed her by responding to his touch. 'You know we can't allow that. Men rule and women serve, that is right and proper.'

'No, no it isn't!'

He sighed regretfully. 'It looks as if I will have to risk marking you to make you accept the truth...'

He unfolded devices from the top of the bed. On the ends of hinged arms were curved metal clamps with gaping jaws, tightened by heavy screw bolts with wing nut heads. Mounted on the hinged "wrists" of the clamps were what looked like small right-angled metal gibbets. He adjusted the open jaws of the clamps so that they cupped about the roots of her breasts, lifting them up by her nipples so that the clamps fitted snugly, and then began screwing them tight.

Lucy whimpered and then sobbed as the pressure of the clamps increased, squeezing her breasts upwards into pink balloons being overinflated. Her nipples stood up hard on their summits. The tips of the clamps met, totally surrounding her breasts, which felt ready to burst. Then he adjusted the vertical screw posts of the little gibbets, which had triple-jawed grabs on the ends of their crooked arms. These he clamped to her nipples, digging their tips deep into her tender flesh. Then he screwed the posts back upwards, stretching her nipples out like elastic.

Lucy shrieked, fearing they were going be ripped off her breasts. The pain was so great that she wet herself, sending a spurt arcing through the air and splattering across the foot of the rack.

The Inquisitor tut-tutted at her careless display.

'Will you tell me the name?'

'W... what name? I don't know who you mean,' Lucy choked out.

'The name of your confidante: your fellow plotter. Of course, it may be a person very close, whose happiness means a lot to you and who you want to protect. But you have to tell me.'

'I can't tell you... there isn't any conspiracy!'

'You know that's not true. There are always conspiracies...'

'No, please... I'm innocent...'

'Then I'll have to try something more painful,' he said.

He went to the foot of the rack and began cranking a handle fastened to its vertical board. A long screw-threaded shaft emerged and wound its way up between her legs. It had a pear-shaped metal plug on its end. This pressed into the cleft of her buttocks and pushed its way through the ring of her anal sphincter, stretching it terrifyingly wide and making Lucy scream, before it popped through and burrowed on up into her rectum. She felt its hard unyielding mass inside her, making her stomach bulge a little from within.

Then the Inquisitor began cranking a second handle set above the first. Another screw shaft emerged from the base of plank in parallel with the first one. This had a bristling bulbous head. It ground against the soiled cleft of her sex mouth, its prongs and bristles making them ripple as they were pushed apart. Then it burrowed into the mouth of vagina, churning and screwing away inside her.

Lucy shrieked again in horror as the second of her passageways was occupied by a strange and terrifying device.

The Inquisitor bent over her tear-streaked face. 'Tell me the name and all this will end,' he promised her.

Lucy shook her head, sobbing and whimpering. 'There... is... no name...'

'As you wish...'

He returned to the foot of the rack and one final crank handle.

This belonged to a third and much finer screw shaft which had a long shiny bodkin on its tip. This passed over the shaft buried in her vagina and up into her gaping cleft and jabbed into her throbbing clitoris. Lucy yelped, and the Inquisitor stopped turning the crank handle. She could feel the exquisite agony of it.

'You want me to bore right through your love bud?'

'No!'

'Then tell me the name!'

'I can't...'

He began twisting the other crank handles rapidly back and forth, churning the terrible devices inside her, which made her pussy mound shiver and pulsate, as though there was something alive inside it. Every movement of her flesh gouged and twisted the bodkin inside her clitoris.

She shrieked and sobbed wildly, caught up in a paroxysm of terror.

It was horrible and yet somehow also stimulating. She was dribbling about the shafts, perhaps to lubricate them so they hurt her a little less. But having them inside her was also deeply and darkly exciting and she could not deny it. She had never realized before how pain and pleasure could be so closely intermingled. The intense and diametrically opposed emotions were confusing as they clashed in her mind and body.

'The name!' the Inquisitor thundered.

'No... no...'

He moved up to her breasts again, which by now were beginning to turn purple, and swung out more devices on hinged arms. They were a pair of wooden horseshoes that had been drilled through with angled, inward facing holes, through each of which had been threaded more long bodkins with flat heads. He positioned the horseshoes over her bulging taut breasts which were being stretched out into unnatural flesh cones by the tension of the nipple grabs.

The Inquisitor held up one finger dramatically, looking down at Lucy's flushed and tear-streaked face, and then he plunged it down against the head of a bodkin. It stabbed down deep into her tender flesh. Then he pushed another bodkin and another into the glossy sides of her imprisoned and tormented mammaries.

Lucy screamed and sobbed as rings of fire encircled her breasts. Another rush of water tried to escape from her bladder, only to spurt messily out of her distended slot filled with the pain plugs.

'The name!' he demanded.

In her agony Lucy thought: tell him any name, just to stop him hurting her anymore...

'Nadia... Nadia!' she blurted out at random.

And it felt so wonderful to unburden herself that she climaxed with relief and fainted dead away.