They had gone down on their knees before his naked torso. She had warned the whores. His manliness full to bursting. “He cums …… and Zad will have you flayed alive.” They knew not to disobey. Months in Zad’s household .. they knew better than to fail.
She assured Zad the secret was as good as his. “He WILL give it up …..” The sorceress sounded assured. In her ears still she still heard the Beastmaster’s tortured cries. A dozen strikes. Targeted on that unwanted erection. Weakening his will. Persecuting his spirit .. like nothing else could.
“Pain and loss of control .. combined …….” Her strategy. Her potion accentuating the pain of Zad’s beatings. He couldn’t think, could barely breathe. And then, swollen, red-inflamed, Zad’s whores had gone to work. Driving him out of his mind.
She nodded assured into Zad’s impatient glower. “On a rack between sexual need of the most agonising kind .. and assailed by pains few men have known. Or survived.”
She smiled assuringly. “The Beastmaster will break,” she added with confidence. “He’ll blurt out the secret of his gift.” She offered her master the reassurance. “Your gift to the Darklord .. it is in the bag.”
“Your best whores have been working him over,” she explained. Taking his swollen cock into their gaping mouths. Greedily slurping on it as he cried out. Hard, bound, achingly sore. Will-breakingly swollen. Ravenously working it over, driving him out of his head. “They’ve had him wanting countless times.” The pain of his inflamed member. A maddening craving to shed his cum. Driven one way and the other .. wanting neither.
”Kept tortured on the brink. Agonisingly needing to do his man-thing.” In her mind’s eye she was seeing the Beastmaster’s tortured eyes. Tormented out of his head. Time and again shuddering at the peak of his sexual need. “But denied any chance.”
And in-between, after he cried out in relief when a whore had taken her mouth off his swollen agony, the guard behind laid into his back. She recalled that breadth of muscled strength criss-crossed with a pattern of evil crimson. The skin glistening under the torchlight .. sweat stinging at his welts. Physical pain. Sexual torment. Unburdening his reluctant spirit of that secret within.
She glanced over her shoulder. As if she could hear the agonies from below. “Just a little more …. More time ….. More unbearable torments …. Setting free his innermost self. Unburdening himself of his secret. Beyond manly endurance. We’ll squeeze the secret out of him.”
Confident her task was nearly done.