Feature Writer: Jason Lancing
Feature Title: THE SPANISH INQUISITORS 7
Published: 25.08.2021 / Mr Double Sex Stories
Story Codes: Nuns, Rape, Rituals
The Spanish Inquisitors 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Dolores sat quietly in Andres’ damp cold underground cell. In her arms she cradled her master and lover. It had been three days since she had castrated him and he was still weak and confused. Tenderly she stroked his naked body with her small white hands.
“I’m glad they let you see me,” he murmured absently, “I was afraid they wouldn’t. Or that you wouldn’t want to.”
“Of course I wanted to. But it wasn’t until I tricked daddy into thinking it would be worse for you if we did see each other that he decided to let me come.”
“Worse for me?”
“Because … because you can’t do it any more. Fuck me, I mean. And he knows the instincts and desires are still there. He thought seeing me would be mental torture. And also that you might hate me because of what I did to you.”
“I’m glad you’re here. I need your love and comfort. I haven’t adjusted to being a gelding yet-never will-but I want you to visit when you can.” Fondly he reached over and kissed her remaining golden nipple. “I’m sorry about what I did to your breast.”
“That’s all right. It eases my guilt about what I did to you. Besides, what good are perfect breasts and nipples to me. You’re my only love and master. We’re both mutilated now. We belong together.”
“You haven’t told me yet what’s happened to you. Does your father keep you in a cell?”
“The bastard,” mused Dolores. “No, daddy had put a bed up for me in the room next to his. I’m his personal maid now-or rather personal prostitute. He fucks me whenever he wants, goes out of his way to humiliate me as often as possible, and beats me every morning.
“You beat me every morning too, Andres,” she continued, placing a tender kiss on his forehead. “But soon I didn’t mind. I loved it and I loved you for doing it to me. But after what daddy did to you, I hate him. I want revenge.”
“You’ll never get it here. Better to do as he wants.”
“Maybe,” she answered thoughtfully. “Andres? What are our chances of escaping? Of getting out of here alive?”
“Zero for me,” he responded casually. “I hope they’re better for you.”
“I won’t live without you, Andres. But I’m afraid that they’ll just continue torturing you until you talk or they kill you.”
“And if I talk then they’ll kill me,” smiled the young man with resignation.
“Then we might as well both die.”
“Suicide?” he asked, looking quizzically into her eyes. “But you’re so young.”
“Yes suicide. Double. I told you I won’t live without you Andres. But first I want revenge. And it has to be soon, before they resume torturing you. I have a plan. They let me have the run of the place pretty much upstaris. I’ve gotten to know the chemist-a stupid fat old fellow but he knows his job. He has a sepcial pill filled with a chemical. I’ll tell you about it later. But in exchange for a piece of ass he’ll give me one.”
Without notice Andres was brought to the private suite of the Grand Inquisitor. Pompously Don Adolfo strutted in front of him, jeering at his castrated pelvis and his useless balls. Dolores sat quietly in a corner, naked like the others.
“Your Lola told me,” began their captor, “that she was happy you weren’t here to watch me hump her since you were now incapable. It pleased her but not me. So for the further discomfort of you both, you are to be our guest this evening. To watch.”
“You’re a prick,” said Andres without emotion.
“And you are a Republican pig,” spat the inquisitor, stopping to slap the young man sharply across the face. Andres barely winced.
“Come here,” continued Don Adolfo to his daughter, “come say hello to your master-your lover.”
Without comment the pretty sixteen-year-old did as she was told. Artfully she had draped a scarf over her shoulder, letting it fall so that it concealed her mutilated boob. She still looked beautiful and virgin to both men.
“I am sorry Andres,” she whispered, placing her slender arms gently about him and hugging him to her, “I am sorry he brought you here. I didn’t know what I was saying when I told him it would hurt you to see us fucking. I should have been still.” Fondly, lovingly she ran her hands over his strong back and explored his hairy chest. She gave him a warm moist kiss on his lips, forcing her tongue into his mouth.
“Enough,” broke in their tormentor callously. “I am horny.”
“Just a moment please, daddy,” responded Dolores, affectionately stroking her breasts against her lover’s chest. Again she pressed his body and felt the security of his strong arms about her small frame.
“In my ass-hole,” she whispered to him as she kissed him, “up my anus there’s a capsule. Put your finger in there and pull it out.”
Andres did as he was told, fondly caressing her still firm ass as he did so. The tip of his nail touched the large pill and secretively pulled it into his hand.
“So,” jeered the father from where he watched, “my fine Republican friend. Unable to fuck in the cunt with a prick you resort to sticking your finger up her shit hole.” Deliberately the Fascist gave way to ridiculing laughter. “What kind of a man are you now, Senor Don Andres?”
The young Socialist ignored him. Stepping back from his pet bitch he slipped the capsule into her hand. She rolled it for a moment between her fingers, half the length of a cigarette and twice as round. She smiled at him con-spiratorially as she shoved the hard pill deep inside her pussy.
“It dissolves in semen,” she began to explain in a low whisper. “When he comes it will . … ”
“Come and fuck me Lola,” demanded her father again.
“Now!”
“As always your obedient daughter,” she replied with a sigh, walking to him and letting her pure flesh brush against him. But unexpectedly she stepped back and looked at him with unaccustomed coldness in her dark eyes.
“Father, Don Adolfo Alberto Arenillas, my mother bore me from your seed. I am your daughter. I give you one last chance. Please, I beg you because once I loved you-do not fuck me. It is incest and sin. You will be punished. When I was a child I did not realize you were a cruel man. If you rape me now in front of my lover I shall not forgive you. I doubt even God can. One last chance. Do not hump me.”
“Ah well,” snorted Don Adolfo contemptuously, “so my child has finally recovered her sense of propriety which she should have always had. You were a virgin flower of Spain, an archetype of Hispanic beauty. And you defiled yourself. Once I was proud of you as a pure daughter to be held up for praise. But with your virginity went my love. Do not fight me. Lie down on the couch.”
The small girl did as she was told, giving a last significant glance to Andres. She had tried to save her father. Wantonly she spread her legs, letting her still slender tight cunt gape open. Though aging, Don Adolfo’s prick could still respond to the display of such juicy young cunt. In seconds he had jabbed his huge organ up her slender quim.
Dolores winced in obvious discomfort, her ass wriggling as if to escape. Unlubricated by her own juices she still had trouble taking the prod up her tiny hole.
With an evil grin on his face their inquisitor hunched his hips rapidly back and forth, driving into her with full force. His hands found her tender breasts and crushed them mercilessly. She could not help but squeal and cry out. Furiously the man screwed his daughter, letting the engorged spear ride in and out full length, twisting it about inside her. The small girl rocked back and forth violently under the force of his attack.
Though she could not resist him she tried not to give him pleasure. The grunts and moans that issued from her parted lips were of pain and repugnance, not joy. She hated him. Insistently the tempo increased as he fucked eagerly into her young quim.
At last she felt his prick harden more. His body grew stiff as orgasm came on him. At last. Soon it would be over. The pill would dissolve and . …
But he didn’t come. Instead he held himself rigid, the head of his dick just buried inside her moist cave. He was holding back. He didn’t want to come yet.
“Bastard,” she whispered under her breath.
The cruel nobleman only laughed. With a malicious wink he looked into her eyes.
“Don’t think I shall let you off this easily, my darling daughter,” he snickered, holding himself still until the tension in his prick and balls again diminished. “What pleasure is it going to be for me and what torment to Andres if you lie there unresponsive like a sack of potatoes? When I come you will come. You will beg me to fuck you.”
Proudly he got off her and stood by the couch, looking down menacingly at the still beautiful small sixteen year old. Anxiously she watched him. Laughing he glanced toward Andres.
“And you Senor Eroles, do not try to interfere. Just enjoy watching what I do. There are armed guards immediately outside the door. If you interrupt me, it will go badly for you both.”
Don Adolfo went to a corner table and withdrew a long sharp pointed dagger. Impishly he strutted in front of them with it in his hands, feeling its razor edge. At last he stopped over his spread legged daughter.
“They tell me,” he began quietly, “that if a girl’s clitoris is removed she does not lose her excitement in sex. Just the opposite in fact. After its extraction she continues to feel it as if it were constantly erect, always hot. Whatever she does and wherever she goes she stays excited, aroused. For the rest of her life she remains horny, never able to get enough.
“Perhaps it is only a peasant’s tale. Perhaps not. I’ve always wanted to know. We will find out. And how amusing it will be, Lola, to have you constantly in need of a man’s fat prick and for you to have a lover that cannot satisfy you. And only me available to you.”
Unhurriedly he sat down between his daughter’s legs. Casually he pried open the petals of her quim and studied the pretty pink gash. With his thumb he gently rubbed the little button until it became hardened and red.
Exasperated Andres made a sudden move toward him. If it meant his life he could not allow Don Adolfo to circumcise the little girl. But it was Dolores who stopped him.
“Don’t, Andres,” she called, motioning him back with her delicate hand. “I can take it. He’d just kill you. Remember, Andres. Remember.”
The young Socialist hesitated Then he did remember: that pill she had slipped up her cunt. He didn’t know its purpose but he’d have to trust his pet’s judgment. With obvious dissatisfaction he sat down to watch.
“Wise. Very wise,” mumbled the Grand Inquisitor as he continued to thumb the little girl’s clit. “My daughter not only has a beautiful twat but common sense also. And your best interests at heart, Senor Eroles.”
Casually he lifted the knife and let just the point slip along his daughter’s one still perfect boob. At first there was only a slight welt and then blood appeared, a thin line of bright red against her creamy white. The knife was exquisitely sharp.
Dolores felt it first as only a slight pressure, then a tickling. After a moment it began to burn slightly but quickly the heat increased. Soon it was like intensely hot fire. She felt him lightly prick the end of her nipple, again there was a tickling and then a rapidly growing burning pain. The damage was so small it could easily be withstood but for their size the cuts were amazingly irritable.
With the detached air of an experienced surgeon he lifted his daughter’s leg and stroked the knife lightly across the base of one of her ass globes. Then two more strokes, an X across the chubby pink bottom itself.
Again the teenager felt the burning pain but so small she tried to ignore it. Yet when she again let her hips fall to the couch she yelped in immediate agony and shoved her ass up to escape the torment. She could not put her weight on it. Though small and localized the cuts were exceedingly painful.
Don Adolfo laughed as he watched her squirm. Twisted so that she lay on her other hip she looked up at him apprehensively. The young girl could hardly believe the cruelty of her own father.
For a moment their captor paused to relish his success. Dolores waited fearfully as he took time to light a cigarette. Then again he took her in his arms, raised her from the couch by her shoulders and traced the knife all over her tender back. In moments she was a mass of scars.
When he let her go she found she was unable now to lie on her back. The pain was too intense. He lifted her by the other leg and cunt her untouched ass cheek, and then up and down the backs of both legs. There was no way for the girl to rest now. She supported her arched body on her elbows and the heels of her feet.
“Please, daddy,” she begged softly as she held her body uncomfortably above the crouch, “you loved me once.” But he did not answer and she had not expected that he would.
Leisurely he began to play the sharp edge again over her breasts, along her slender arms, across her unprotected belly. The blade lightly bit into her shapely thighs and left a small burning fury wherever it went.
“Daddy,” she moaned, “oh daddy.” Her discomfort was acute. Distinctly she could feel each separate small burning area. All over her she was covered with a thousand little pricks of intense fire. She was alive with the tiny hurts. Again he paused and she trembled in fear as she looked up at him.
“It is amazing,” he began as unemotionally as if he were giving a lecture, “how much the little irritants can hurt. One or two would hardly he noticed. And none of them are deep enough to leave even a trace. But when covered with them they burn miserably. And I know how to increase the pain even more.”
Dolores continued to stare at him in speechless horror, her body still resting uncomfortably on her elbows and heels. Quietly he took a box from the table and opened it. It was common ordinary table salt. The little teenager shuddered. She’d heard about rubbing salt into wounds but she’d never experienced it.
He reached his hands under her shoulder blades and began to massage her bleeding body. For a moment it felt good, his strong smooth fingers relaxing the taut muscles. Then suddenly the burning increased ferociously.
“Daddy, oh, no, no, no,” squealed the little girl, wondering if she could stand the pain. Sweat began to pour from her face, her teeth grit tight to try to endure. “Oh daddy please,” she moaned as gradually he worked the salt into the wounds on her back.
The room spun around her as he now massaged her naked bottom. Dolores thought she would faint. It felt like molten lava burning her tender flesh. Her muscles began to twitch and jerk spastically, hopelessly trying to avoid the salt fed wounds. Pathetically she twisted and squirmed precariously above the couch, piteous sounds of suffering escaping from her parted lips.
Finished with the back of her legs and hips the old aristocrat again filled his palms with salt. Cruelly he pressed them against her bleeding jugs and shoved her back down against the couch. The child screamed and bellowed in agony as the rough cloth rubbed across her smarting open wounds. Yet she could not hold her body still, could not keep it from chafing against her bed.
And her breasts too were on fire. With methodic cruelty the father squeezed, pulled and twisted the upright cones. Tears poured from the teenager’s eyes, her lips moved convulsively. Carefully her tormentor moved down her body, rubbing the cuts on her tummy and thighs.
Dolores’ whole body was on fire. It could be no worse to be burned at the stake. From head to toe she was enveloped in the furious heat. Her flesh was afire with the inescapable agony.
Weakly she tried to push his arms away but it was useless. She was in no condition to struggle. Relentlessly he continued to infect the bleeding cuts until they were swollen and pulsing under his touch.
“Daddy noooo. No, no, daddy, please,” she begged, her eyes rolling insanely in their sockets. She could hardly see him, hardly focus on him. Everything was blurred by the hot red fog. “Nooo, please,” she whimpered, rolling in increasing torment on the rough couch.
Don Adolfo stopped to smile down at his miserable daughter. His dark eyes glistened with delight as he watched her writhe and strain in anguish. She was wholly at his mercy.
Again he picked up the dagger. Carefully he took one of her slender puffed pussy lips and began to cut parallel lines up and down its length. He smiled openly as she begged and pleaded for him to stop. Then methodically he lacerated the other pure cunt petal.
Trembling Dolores watched him as once more he dipped his hands in the salt. Deliberately he began to rub it into the parallel cuts on her quim. The girl gave a startled cry and spontaneously her pelvis arched away from him.
The teenager could barely stand it. Her twat was alive with the flaming salt. It was worse, much worse than the rest of her body. Her pussy was so sensitive and tender, so much more vulnerable to pain. The hurt between her legs dominated her being as uselessly she squirmed and twisted to escape the fiery torment.
“Why, daddy, why,” she moaned loudly, nearly choking on her own tears, “why treat your daughter this way? I loved you. Trusted you. Love me, daddy, please.”
With a cruel glance the aristocrat ignored her pleas. Under his hands her normally thin cunt lips were becoming fat and puffy.
“Mercy, daddy, love meee,” she wailed in anguish. But even as she begged him she saw him take up the knife again, felt its sharp point press lightly on her swollen clitoris. He was going to mutilate her after all.
Don Adolfo placed the tip of the blade at the base of his daughter’s clit. Deftly he jabbed it straight into her flesh. His ears were deafened by her instantaneous screaming. Her pathetic cries echoed in the small chamber. Under his hand he could feel her terrified body shaking and heaving uncontrollably.
Slowly he cut around the base of the bleeding clitoris, wanting her to feel every moment of pain. With a final stroke he finished the circumcision. Grunting with satisfaction he pulled the little button from her body and held it triumphantly in front of her shocked glazed eyes.
Dolores stared up at the tiny bloody hunk of meat that had been her clitoris. Yet she could not believe that it was gone. She could still feel it. From the moment he had teased it with his blade it had begun to itch. In spite of the hurt in the rest of her body she had sensed that growing need in her twat, the emptiness and longing in her love cave.
Even as he had cut into her aroused flesh she had begun to gush forth cunt cream. Dolores had greased her tortured pussy lips and oiled her rosy fuck hole spontaneously with her white spend. And it had grown worse, the craving in her crack soaring to immeasurable heights as he mutilated her.
As she stared up at her little clit hanging limply between his two fingers she was aware of the intensity of the throbbing itch in her quim. The need was insatiable. She had to have something in her. Anything. Father, dog or candlestick-anything would do as long as it filled her and quelled her desire. Gone were the burning wounds of her body. That huge emptiness in her cunt hurt worse than all the cuts combined.
Her father dipped a finger in the salt then rubbed it into the little pit where her clitoris had been. Dolores’ body exploded. The desire that a moment ago seemed unendurable was growing monstrously. The fury in her cunt was unspeakable. Her clit felt like it was still there and growing huge, bigger than a pencil or a salami or the whole universe. Her anguished need expanded uncontrollably. The teenager tilted back her head and with open mouth she screamed and squealed out her agonizing need.
“Fuck meee,” she wailed, “fuck me, daddy. Do something. I can’t stand it. Fuck me. Someone. Anyone. Fuck meeee!”
Don Adolfo crouched between his daughter’s squirming legs. His slimy prick was fat and hard-bigger than he had ever known it. He paused a moment to look gleefully down at his victim. Her cunt was opening and closing rhythmically, sucking wind as it begged for something to fill it. Triumphantly he poised the head of his cock against her hot moist crack and shoved it deep into the welcoming quim.
“Oh yes, yes, yes, daddy,” gasped the girl hysterically as she felt its needed entrance. “Yes, yes. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me,” she chanted as madly she began to shove her twat up and down the length of his prod. It hurt but it was such a beautiful pain. Some dick had to fill the void. Someway the rut in her circumcised snatch had to be satisfied.
Ferociously Dolores’ cunt attacked her father’s peter. She could think of nothing but getting enough of that oily rod. Her firm bottom slapped and pounded ruthlessly against the hard couch. It creaked and groaned under her onslaught. The child could not get enough.
“Ughh, uh, uh,” grunted the older man, riding the hot wave of Dolores’ lust. Never had his prick felt so welcome. With mixed disgust and jealousy Andres watched them, thinking Don Adolfo sounded like a pig in heat. And he had never before seen his gentle little pet Lola fuck so ferociously or demandingly.
“Faster, faster, faster,” muttered Dolores half-aloud, as if ordering her cunt on to even greater accomplishments. “Faster, faster, harder, harder,” she urged banging her twat with each thrust loudly against her father’s hairy balls.
The fat cock pistoned into her with wild and insane speed. Their genitals were a blur as they fucked and screwed together. Still Dolores wanted more, needed more to cool her burning snatch.
“Fuck me, daddy,” the teenager pleaded, “Hard, daddy. The best fuck. Fuck me best. Dick me hard daddy, hard. Dick me. Dick me. Dick me.”
“Yes, dearest, yes,” gasped Don Adolfo, “oh yes sweetest Dolores. Yes. It is the best. The best fucking I ever … ever … oh, oh my child. I’m coming my precious daughter. I’m coming. I, uhhh.”
Immediately the child held her body stiff and rigid, though she trembled with expectation. Heart pounding she waited for the coveted jism, hardly daring to breathe. Her cunt was locked firmly at the base of his prick. She could feel the growing throbbing in his dangling nuts.
“Give me daddy come,” she chanted as if in prayer, “give me daddy come. Lots and lots of daddy come. Fuck me, daddy. Fuck me.”
Then suddenly it was there. All at once she was flooded with his junk. It was everything she had ever wanted, thick stringy stinking boiling hot spend bursting out of his heavy knob. It inundated her womb, splashed along the walls of her fuck cave, dribbled copiously out between the lips of her tight pussy.
“Ah yes, daddy, yeees,” she screamed. “Fuck your little baby child. I loooove it. Thank you daddy, thank you. Oh, ohhh, uh coooming. Daddy coooming. Uh, uh cooome. Cooome. Ohhh coooming. Daddy. Fuck meeee.”
Dolores’ arms and legs thrashed madly on the couch. Her body shook and trembled with each new jet of endless spunk. Her eyes rolled in their sockets, her wideopened mouth distorted her face as she screamed at the top of her voice.
“Fuck meee. Fuck meee. Daddy fuck meee. So hot. Ah so hot. Ahhhh.”
Together they tossed in insane orgasm. And the more he came the hotter and more joyous his jism felt. Through blurred eyes she could see steam actually rising from her twat. Then as the crescendoed toward another higher climax she remembered the capsule she had stuck up her cunt. It was working. It would be the last orgasm for either of them. A fantastic, inhuman, abandoned ferocious orgasm.
“Fuck me hard, daddy. Fuck me hard. Give me all your jism. Shoot it in me, daddy. All in me. Shoot it in. Oh, oh, oh come. Come. Coooomiiiing.”
As Andres watched in frustrated disbelief he realized Don Adolfo was screaming, not in joy but horror. Wide-eyed he pulled his prod from his daughter’s furrow and stared at it. It seemed twisted and purplish. Smoke was rising along its entire length and from his balls.
From across the room Andres could smell the acrid odor. It was some kind of acid. That pill Dolores had shoved up her cunt had contained acid! He glanced at his pet. She was still thrashing in abandoned orgasm but the smoke was billowing from her quim too. The acid was eating her insides.
“My God,” cried Don Adolfo hysterically, staring down at his rapidly disintegrating prick. “That damned chemist. He gave her one of those capsules. He gave her a capsule. The son of a bitch. My God, my God, oh my God.”
Still screaming in horror the Grand Inquisitor ran from the room. Noxious smoke still rose from his crotch. “Doctor!” he yelled. “Doctor! Doctor! Doctor!”
Quickly Andres went to his beloved Dolores. She was still tossing and crying in furious orgasm. Lovingly he put his arms around her.
“My precious Lola. Oh my precious pet,” he whispered.
Suddenly with crazed eyes the girl was looking at him. She had heard him. With great effort she was trying to slow her climax, to come off of her high. She wanted to tell him something.
At last she lay more quietly, staring up at her master. Her fingers bit into the couch, her heels buried in the cushions. She panted heavily, unable to get her breath.
“My Lola. I do love you,” murmured Andres.
“I’m dying master. Dying. The acid is eating me alive.”
“Then I die too,” answered the young Socialist. For the first time in years tears of love filled the hard man’s eyes.
“Yes, the knife,” she groaned. “Take the dagger. Kill us both. I want to die now when I cannot tell pain from pleasure. Life and death are the same to me now, Andres. In orgasm there is no difference. And death is natural. Sex is my salvation.”
Without hesitation the young man picked up Don Adolfo’s knife. It was not bravery that would let him suicide. He wanted to join his dying Lola.
“Kiss me first,” she gasped. “One last kiss my love and master.”
Passionately their lips met, their tongues searched the other’s mouth. With compassion each cried for the other and their tears mingled on their cheeks.
They did not hear the door crash open behind them. It was the Captain of the Guard and his men. With them was the doctor.
It was too late. Writhing in ecstasy for one last time, Dolores felt the razor sharp knife glide up her cunt, feeling for the last time the ultimate ecstasy. She had wanted it that way; wanted the symbolic ecstasy of being fucked one last time by her lover.
And he, lying on top of her churning body, scarcely felt the bayonets of the guards piercing him.
The doctor watched the two writhing bodies, shaking his head at the horror done in the name of God and king and country. It was better this way, he thought. But better for whom? Not Spain. And, being a once pious man, he prayed.
THE END