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Fate of a Murderess

Part 1: A Nasty Business

Jennifer DeMoeira was now a widow. By marriage, she had become a member ofone of the wealthier aristocratic families. Though their title meant littleand had never had a corresponding seat in the House of Lords, their hereditaryland holdings and in more recent years wise investment of their finances hadmeant that in the modern age they probably had more influence than any of thosewho still sat there.

The DeMoeiras were a close-knit extended family, and tended to marry onlythose of similar breeding to themselves. When the young Daniel DeMoeira hadreturned from university with a commoner in tow as his chosen love, it hadcaused a stir but the family lived in the modern age, and it was by doing sothat they remained successful. Therefore, before long the union of Jenniferand Daniel DeMoeira was agreed and the two 22-year-old newly-weds had enjoyeda honeymoon of splendour the likes of which Jennifer had never imagined seeingfor herself before then.

That was just over three years ago, and the tragic death of Daniel had infact taken place during a holiday to celebrate their anniversary. Jenniferand Daniel had shared a love of outdoor activities, including rock-climbingand were both very fit. During a climb, however, a mooring had come loose andDaniel subsequently slipped and fell to his death. The verdict had come back, "accidentaldeath".

The truth was, that Jennifer had had enough of being tied to the DeMoeiraclan, whom she knew had never fully accepted her into their high society. Shehad tried to fit in at first, but eventually she just started to fall in withthe rich "jet set" crowd, with whom the DeMoeiras would do business as thenew world order required them to do, but whom they regarded as being somewhatcrass and brash. Jennifer, the poor girl come good, was closer in spirit tothe fast-living style anyway, determined to enjoy it while it lasted.

Finally, she had decided that, since Daniel's share of the family fortunewas quite substantial enough for her to live on it for the rest of her lifein the manner to which she was accustomed, and given that Daniel had promisedthat he had left it all to her in his will, she should do away with him anddepart to America where (she was sure) her accent and money would make herfar more respected and welcome than she was in the European set.

She was good-looking, too. Her regular exercise kept her figure trim and,though her breasts were not that big, they were well proportioned comparedwith the rest of her body and had plenty to get hold of. Her blonde hair shecould style any way she wanted, for she had made a point of learning all shecould about such things while she had access to the beauty therapists whoseprices only such families as the DeMoeiras could afford. She had supportedherself through university with a part-time hairdressing job, and so it mightbe said that she had a professional interest. Certainly her in-laws had commented,non-too-kindly, "Once a hairdresser, always a hairdresser!" She would win herselfa man whose background was closer to her own, and embark on a brand new life,unimaginable when she had been just five years younger.

Now was the big leap. Her private jet was ready for the transatlantic flight,all the paperwork for her transferral to US citizenship was in place, and nowall she had to do was board the plane, and she would be free of the DeMoeirasforever.

Jennifer placed all her trust in flying to the people who looked after theaircraft and to her pilot, but she rarely bothered them when they were doingtheir job. Thus, she never noticed that her regular pilot had been replacedby another. She simply settled herself in to pass the time between take-offand landing. As it happened, that time seemed to pass more quickly than shehad expected, for not long after the aircraft reached cruising altitude, somethingin the cabin's air made her feel dizzy, shortly before she passed out altogether.

* * * * *

Jennifer awoke to find herself in darkness. She was seated naked on a leatherchair, and restrained, she discovered from the feel of it, by broad leatherstraps. Her first instinct was a natural one.

"Help!" She called into the featureless blackness, "Anyone? Help me!"

The sound at least revealed that she was not in some vast chamber, but quitea small room. There was absolutely no source of light, and presumably the walls,floor and ceiling would be coloured black also, giving her eyes no chance offocussing on anything, and giving her no way of judging by sight where shewas or what was around her. But the acoustics were unmistakable. The only otherreality besides her voice and the occasional creak of the leather as she flexedher muscles against it, was the feel of the leather against her bare skin.Her feet did not touch the floor, but the leather upholstery continued downthe back of her legs so that her heels were resting against it. Her hands werestrapped down to the armrests so that she could not move her fingers to explorethe shape of the rests, nor the material used to make the chair itself, beneaththe leather. Across her forehead another band of leather made sure that shecould not move her head forwards, backwards, left or right – nor couldshe turn her face more than a few degrees. The only things she could feel wereleather and cold air. The only things she could hear were the leather, herown voice and breath, and the beat of her heart. She could feel panic coursingthrough her, and her heartbeat faster and louder all the time.

"Please, somebody! Help me!" she tried again, but only the dry sound of theroom around her, too small to echo as such, but returning the sound to herears as soon as she had released it from her mouth.

"Can anyone hear me?" she cried, the subtle change in her attitude revealed – nolonger did she believe that help would come, but now she was asking of it couldcome. The panic was taking hold in her mind, as the ways in which she had preparedherself for years to defend herself were rendered worthless, and she was thecaptive of somebody who wanted her afraid, naked and powerless. There was noescape, but that did not stop the primeval fight-or-flight instinct from starting,adrenaline racing to her heart and urging it faster, sweat springing from herpores with the scent of fear in it, her body preparing to relieve itself ofwaste if need be. There was no object of her fear, only the continued silenceof the room and the creaks as her panicking body pulled and twisted in therelentless bonds. Jennifer started to cry, tears flowing down her cheeks anddripping from her chin onto her shoulders and the tops of her breasts. Deepinside, she was angry and humiliated by this, for she had always seen herselfas a strong woman, always in control of herself and her emotions. But now,she had no control over anything and could only wait, weeping in the lonelydarkness of her tight cell. Her sobbing lasted for several minutes, thoughshe had no knowledge of how time was passing beyond the walls that caged her.

* * * * *

A door opened behind her, almost silent but in the silence of the cell, Jennifer'sears still heard it. Footsteps of someone entering. Her struggles and her tearshad stopped, and she felt exhausted as the adrenaline was flushed out of hersystem. Light flooded in from whatever lay beyond the door, and Jennifer sawthat the wall in front of her was dark red, before the door closed and totaldarkness returned. She heard more footsteps as the mystery person positionedhimself behind her (the sound of the footfalls suggested a man, not a womanor a child, Jennifer was sure).

"You are hereby charged with the cold-blooded murder of Daniel DeMoeira,with the motive of inheriting a share of the wealth of the DeMoeira family.You have the right to remain silent, because there is nothing that you cansay that we do not know about your crime, and there are no words that can inducemercy or a respite from your punishment." The voice that intoned these wordswas distorted using effects, but Jennifer had a feeling that she recognisedit.

"We will not bother with extracting a confession, because we already knowthat you did it, how, and with what motive. Your means, motive and opportunityare known and indisputably proven. Though the law and its oh-so-thorough investigatorsconcluded that Daniel's death was an accident, we have discovered what youdid to make it appear so, and so justice will be done without the law."

There was a soft click.

"Besides, you silly bitch, you wrote the whole sick plan in your diary. Nofurther evidence is needed to convict!" The distortion had been turned off,and the owner of the voice was revealed as he insulted the hapless Jennifer.It was the pater familias of the DeMoeiras, Daniel's uncle James Edward DeMoeira,who was always called by both his Christian names, as there were other Jamesesclose in the DeMoeira family tree. The lights suddenly came on, and the darkred room was filled with brightness. The colour of the walls seemed to havebeen chosen to match the worn leather of the chair to which Jennifer had beenstrapped. James Edward tossed something into Jennifer's lap. It was the incriminatingdiary. For a brief moment, Jennifer was more shocked that anyone had had thetemerity to abuse that most hallowed of documents, sacrosanct since she hadbegun writing it at the age of 13, than she was at the knowledge that she hadbeen caught and would be punished by the family of her victim. For a moment,she was about to respond with, "How dare you read my diary?" as though shewere still a teenager and her parents had used it as evidence of her losingher virginity at fifteen. Instead, she addressed her response to a more immediatelyconcerning issue.

"What are you going to do to me?"

"Let me explain something about the DeMoeira family history. Our wealth,beyond what came from our hereditary status, was first based upon the slavetrade in the 18th century and we made a great deal also from fashioning waysof controlling unruly slaves. Before that, there were DeMoeiras involved withevery witchfinding enterprise in the 17th century. As slavery was abolished,we found that there were still areas where these specialities were valued.At present, the DeMoeira business family is responsible for many of the techniquesused by totalitarian regimes on people who have been 'disappeared'. One wayor another, for at least four centuries we have been at the heart of the tortureand interrogation industries, and related businesses. In the last four decades,we have gained a reputation amongst those who know, for inventive and ingeniousdevices to punish or extract information from those whom a state considersbeyond the pale. With the growth of so-called 'alternative lifestyles', wehave found that toned-down versions of some of our products have a market inthe general public as well, though generally they go to the more hardcore ofthe clubs that cater for such people.

"Your husband was an idealistic young man, and we were never going to bringhim in on these aspects of our business empire. He knew, of course, where themoney originally came from for the building of the empire, but he could neverhave accepted it if he had discovered that it still formed a major part ofour activities. Maybe that is why he found it possible, even necessary, tomarry below himself.

"And so we come to you. DeMoeiras have killed their spouses in the past,or each other, but always for matters of the heart – wounded pride, jealousy,that type of thing. Even when it was a blood relative killed by his or herpartner, if we saw that a wrong had originally been done to the murderer bythe victim, then we stood by them, and often agreed beforehand to support thecrime. And always, the murderer wanted to remain with the family, even if theyhad killed to marry elsewhere. But you! You killed for that most petty of reasons,money. Profit. And you would have turned your back on us, like a traitor returningto her true allegiance. Daniel, perhaps, got what he deserved after all formarrying below himself. Be that as it may, the heads of the DeMoeira familyand our closest allies have determined that a deed of such black hearted, treacherousgreed cannot go unpunished.

"We have used all the resources of our key industry to prepare for you somethingspecial, though if it works as we plan, it may become a new premium servicein our portfolio."

Jennifer felt as though liquid nitrogen had been substituted for her bloodand her bowels had turned to slack rubber. Her bladder also seemed to be onthe verge of giving way. A part of her wanted to believe that this was allsome sort of elaborate prank, but her diary, open to the incriminating entry,lay on her lap and she was restrained in a device that must surely have beendesigned with torture in mind. The decor made perfect sense, too. It wouldhide the blood perfectly. She concentrated desperately on not soiling herselfin front of James Edward, her fingers digging as much as possible given herrestraints into the leather arm of the chair.

She almost let go completely when James Edward placed his hand on her arm.But he was not going to torture her here, and not yet. Instead, his hands workedexpertly to release her arm from the straps that held it in place. Even ifJennifer had had the awareness at that moment to struggle, the uncle whom shehad once regarded as a friendly middle-aged man was far too strong. He twistedJennifer's arm behind her back where he fastened a handcuff tightly aroundher wrist. Then he repeated the process with her other arm so that her wristswere linked behind her back.

Methodically, and with little thought for Jennifer's comfort, he proceededto undo all the straps, and Jennifer was sure that he had lingered around thestraps across her waist and lap, looking maybe not at what he was doing butat Jennifer's naked snatch. If that was true, it did not last for long andsoon Jennifer was freed from the chair except for her wrists fastened behindher. James Edward went to them and operated some form of catch, which releasedthe handcuffs from the back of the chair. At the same time he made sure thathe had a firm hold of them himself.

"Come on, bitch, we're going to meet the Doctor," he said grimly, and takinga hold on Jennifer's shoulders he lifted her up and put her on her feet, "Oh,and by the way, if you try to run then we will have to give you a taste ofour regular wares before we move on to your planned punishment, and that wouldnot be pleasant for you. It would also delay the moment of truth, but believeme when I say it would not be worth it. Walk ahead of me, and follow my instructions."

Beyond the dark-red room the corridors were a cream colour, much like mostcorridors anywhere, and could indeed have been in a hospital, or an officeblock if it wasn't for the way in which Jennifer had found herself treatedhere. Feeling cowed and beaten, and terrified, Jennifer did not have the willleft to try to escape, but simply did as she was told.

Their destination proved to be what was apparently a fully equipped operatingtheatre, although there were features that, in conjunction with James Edward'sspeech earlier, suggested it might have other purposes as its main intent.The theatre was not empty, and of the three people there Jennifer recognisedtwo: Joel and Francis were close cousins (though by a different branch of thefamily tree than James Edward's) of her departed husband, and presumably membersof the DeMoeira dynasty who were much better versed in their family's linesof business. The third was obviously "the Doctor", if only because of his dress.However, he appeared to be dressed not for operating but for research, witha long white coat reminiscent of scientists in the movies. Although he woreno facemask, he did wear a head covering that contained his hair, which wouldotherwise (it seemed) have spilled out into a great shock of black hair. Hewas slightly shorter than the DeMoeiras, but also athletically built, withobvious wiry strength. He was studying Jennifer with small, dark eyes set ina face that seemed open but at once gave away nothing about what was insidethe man's head. It made the naked captive shiver as he looked at her. JamesEdward held Jennifer firmly by her shoulders, standing behind her and discouragingany rash moves.

"So, this is the special lady whose crime I am to punish!" he remarked, andJennifer caught a hint of some exotic accent in his voice.

"It is indeed," replied James Edward, "Jennifer, meet Doctor Lucas Brava,a close and loyal employee of the DeMoeira family for many years, and one ofour most effective developers and demonstrators of products. He is highly skilledin many medical disciplines, and having been given the specifics of our requirementshas devised the punishments that you will undergo.

"Now, Dr. Brava, I will leave the young woman in your capable hands. I trustthat you have enough assistance with these two fine young men?"

With that, the two cousins (dressed in jeans and checked shirts, almost likecattle handlers in the Wild West) moved to take hold of Jennifer by the upperarms. James Edward departed while the men began to muscle Jennifer towardsthe operating table. Jennifer finally seemed to realise her predicament, forwhatever was going to happen to her here, it would be terrible and horrific,and she did not want to let it happen. It was futile, however. With her wristsalready handcuffed, she could do little against the strength of the muscularmen who held her.

Unceremoniously, Jennifer found herself forced onto the table, where finallyshe might kick at her assailants – but it was no good; Francis held herchest down while Joel easily contained her legs in his grasp, effectively tuckingthem tightly under one arm. Swiftly, he found a leather strap attached to thetable and Jennifer's ankles were trapped under it, and she was helpless onceagain. Now, he helped his cousin by holding down Jennifer while Francis adjustedhis hold on her, moving behind her and now pushing down on Jennifer's shoulders.Joel backed away as Dr. Brava activated a control on the wall of the theatre.Jennifer's view was blocked by the arms of her cousin, but she could feel motorsworking beneath her in the operating table.

Joel came forwards again, and Francis forced Jennifer into a sitting position.Joel took a firm hold on the woman while Francis produced a key from his pocketand undid the handcuffs, for what reason, Jennifer had no idea at that point.

All became apparent when the two cousins each seized an arm and dragged themwide, forcing Jennifer onto her back once more. Now the motors' work was revealed,for Jennifer found her arms stretched along extensions on either side of thetable. She was sure now that Joel and Francis had practised this many timesand knew each step of the procedure through which they would put their errantin-law. Indeed, with practised skill they applied further leather straps, firstaround the wrists, then the lower and upper arms so that Jennifer was utterlysecured to the smooth surface beneath her.

This, it appeared, was not enough for the doctor's purpose, for the paircontinued with further straps across the legs and across the waist of the victim.Francis, the job of immobilising Jennifer complete, was eager for some fun.The unmistakable bulge in his jeans needed no emphasis, but he was alreadyworking his belt and fly. Although her legs were fastened together, Jenniferknew that this only meant that it would be tighter and hurt more. She triedto brace herself for the imminent rape.

"No, no, no!" insisted the doctor, "We do not take our fun until the businessis complete! We must remain focused or the whole punishment may be compromised.If she should experience even the slightest physical arousal from your actions,it might turn pain into pleasure and then the entire effect is lost. No, nowgo and bring me my operating instruments!"

Jennifer expected to see perhaps implements of torture, or just possiblygenuine scalpels and the like. What she saw were a hammer and several of thethickest nails she could have imagined.

"What are you going to do to me?" she wailed, pathetically, feeling ashamedat how she sounded but unable to find any greater strength for her voice.

"We are going to punish you, dear," said Doctor Brava, "Many times over.I will not spoil the surprise if you have not already guessed the nature ofthis operation – anyway, the moment is almost upon you!" So saying, hetook up one of the nails and a hammer.

"Joel, gag her, then hold her head. She should watch every moment of this,and it would be a shame if she should accidentally harm her tongue during theprocess." The doctor approached Jennifer's right hand on its platform, whilea ball-gag was forced between her teeth by Joel: apparently, it had been ona second layer of the trolley with the hammer and nails. Then, as the doctorhad instructed, Joel placed his hands on either side of the patient's headand forced her to gaze at her vulnerable hand as the doctor carefully placedthe tip of the nail into the hollow of her palm. She could see that the nailwas at least a centimetre wide, and 15 centimetres long. Doctor Brava poisedhimself for the first blow, and Jennifer winced but did not dare to close hereyes, which would anger the doctor further.

Metal struck metal, pierced flesh, wrung a scream from Jennifer's lungs,impotent behind Joel's gag. Jennifer did not know it, but Dr. Lucas Brava hadplanned this well. Beneath her hand was a gap in the meal of the table placedperfectly to take the nail. In that gap was a form of putty that would notseriously impede the nail's progress, but would slow it enough that there wouldbe several blows needed to drive its full length through the victim's handso that the head rested in her palm. The tip of the nail had already reachedthe putty, tearing muscles and twisting bone. Jennifer watched with terrorand impotence as each subsequent strike brought further damage in her handand she screamed into the gag with each one as the pain of it seemed greaterthan the one before. In all, it took seven blows of the hammer before the nailwas completely driven home.

"I have broken, I think, two bones in your hand with this operation," DoctorBrava commented to his patient, "But that is unimportant now. Slightly moresignificant is that you will also have lost any use of your middle two fingersas a result of the procedure. However, given your future prospects, I thinkthat this will prove to be unimportant to you. And now, I shall perform theoperation on your other hand."

Joel twisted Jennifer's head so that she faced her left hand and the doctorcarefully selected his nail before delicately positioning it exactly as hewanted over her palm. This time, the fear in Jennifer's eyes was the anticipationof a known horror, and in it Dr. Lucas Brava found his greatest delight. Hepaused a long moment, drinking in the terror of his 'guest', before once morelifting his arm high and driving the cruel spike into the defenceless tissueof Jennifer's trapped hand.

Jennifer found herself beyond screaming, and just gurgled behind the gagas the pain multiplied again and her left hand was left with the same damageas her right. More securely than any straps could hold her, she was pinnedto the specially designed table, in agony and impotence caught naked beneaththe stares of the men who had done this to her.

"By now, you will be thinking, 'They are crucifying me!' But it is not so,yet. No, this is just the preliminary stage, for the beauty of what I havedevised is that we will be able to crucify you over and over again, and itwill never end. Each day that your in-laws feel the lack of Daniel, they willbe able to put you to a punishment deemed fit for murderers and robbers, indays long ago, and you will come close to death but be forced back to life,to face the same agonising near-death the next day, and the next, forever.This is the fate that I have devised for you!" The doctor laughed at Jennifer'swild, staring, uncomprehending eyes, filled with a conviction of her captors'insanity and the knowledge of her helplessness within it.

Joel and Francis came down the table and began undoing the straps that heldJennifer's legs to the table. Each time, however, they simply looped a straparound her so that her legs were still securely fastened together but no longerheld flat against the table. When her ankles were finally freed, Jennifer triedhard to kick her way loose, but it was hopeless. She would have tried harder,but found that her fighting caused her arms to pull on the nails still holdingher hands firmly to the table and the stabs of pain quickly forced her to stop.It was hardly as if she could have broken free anyway while the two men wereso unyieldingly holding her.

Joel and Francis quickly repositioned Jennifer's feet so that her soles werepressed onto the table, and used their strength to hold her in that posture,with her knees raised into the air. Jennifer couldn't see, but a similar arrangementas that for the nails in her hands had been set up in the table for her feet,and it was to these that the men placed them. Once more, the putty would absorbsome of the force of the hammer blows so that the effect would be prolonged.The fact that her legs now blocked her view at least meant that she could notbe forced to watch the pitiless metal being driven through her feet.

Doctor Brava was just as precise with his placing of the third nail on Jennifer'sright foot, but this time he did not raise his hand as high with the hammer.Consequently, Jennifer did not see his actions as they were hidden behind herknees. The first she knew of the impending blow was when the nail was thrustinto her foot.

In shock, Jennifer jerked with the sudden pain, wrenching her hands on thespikes already driven home. She moaned: a long, low, drawn-out wail behindher gag. A low chuckle emerged from the three men.

This was not the smooth transfixing made by the nails in her hands: the nailwas not struck with as much force, and also the bones in the foot were provingless easy to prise apart. Every aspect of the process was slower and more painfulthan it had been with the hands. All the extremities are highly concentratedwith nerve-endings, for it is with hands and feet that a person will most oftenfeel their way through a situation where vision and hearing prove ineffectiveas guides. This sensitivity was now the weapon used against Jennifer.

She showed more control with the subsequent hammer blows, and no longer causedherself greater pain by tugging on her hands, but she could not avoid makingthe helpless sounds of anguish that so amused the men around her. The nailground against the bones in her foot, forcing them out of the way and tearingasunder the muscles and sinews that lay in its path. It took at least a dozenstrikes before the doctor was satisfied with his handiwork, and repeated theprocess on Jennifer's left foot.

Now the cousins were making lewd comments, that these were surely not theonly pricks that would impale her, and other such comments, and they timedtheir remarks to coincide with the hammer blows so that humiliation was swiftlyfollowed by suffering. This at last brought tears to Jennifer's eyes: not thepain of being tortured, but the suggestive and lascivious words of her in-laws,and the thought of things that they implied would happen to her.

The doctor finished hammering home the last of the nails.

"Now we come to the really clever part," he informed Jennifer, "Because whenwe remove the nails, something miraculous happens!"

Francis revealed on a second trolley another tool, resembling a great clawhammerhead, but obviously only used for the claw characteristics. Jennifercould neither imagine what would happen now, nor what they could possibly gainin terms of a "special punishment" by nailing her to the operating table andthen immediately prising her free. But that was what they appeared to be doing,Joel taking charge of the process.

The claw crushed against the side of her hand, turning her little fingernumb in the process, but the nail pulled free – or did it? Jennifer couldsee clearly a nail in Joel's hand, which he placed into a metal surgical dishwith a clang. But she could also see and feel metal in her hand, and she wasstill pinned to the table. The same curious effect was found with her otherhand.

Joel used Jennifer's toes as a fulcrum for the claw in removing the nailsin her toes, crushing them until she was sure that bones had been broken (notthat it mattered compared to what had happened to the innards of her feet already).Yet, again, she could still feel the cold metal in her and she was still pinnedto the table. What could the doctor have done? Because of his approach to therest of the operation, Jennifer thought that he would have explained it atthis point, but he simply gave further orders to the cousins, that Jennifer'sarms should once more be strapped down.

Once the cousins had carried out the command, he operated a control on thewall. It seemed to Jennifer as though the table where the nails had been drivenin had melted. She did not have much freedom, but where she had been pinnedsecurely, she now had a little bit of movement. In actual fact, a solutionthat dissolved the putty had been released from small reservoirs in the table.

"Turn her over!" instructed the doctor, and Jennifer was unstrapped again,and the strong men, giving no hope of struggling, did as they were bidden.The doctor himself lifted Jennifer's legs (which were still bound tightly together)and held them straight out so that kicking was unavailable as an option. Inno time at all, Jennifer found herself lying on her chest, arms stretched outand strapped as before, but her palms were now facing downwards. From somewhere,Joel produced a chinrest that forced Jennifer's face to point in one directiononly, towards the wall and away from any inspection of her own condition. Behindher, she caught a faint roar like a gas fire coming to life, and then presumablyat the command of another wall-mounted control, a large panel slid to one sidein front of her to reveal a mirror.

Jennifer first registered that a blue gas flame was emerging from the torchin the doctor's hand. Her bladder released its contents as a terror unlikeanything she had ever experienced, even during her already horrific ordealat the hands of her in-laws, gripped her. Seeing it happen, the cousins laughedout loud in utter derision. Though it did not register for some time, the urinedid not pool upon the table, but a well-placed opening drained it away.

The second thing that registered was that although the nails appeared stillto be pointing upwards from Jennifer's hands, they had lost their spikes andseemed to be flat on the end. Compared to the rapidly approaching torch flame,this seemed an irrelevant detail but afterwards it was something that Jenniferrecalled with vivid clarity.

The third thing that registered was the act that by now, both cousins hadhuge erections barely concealed in their jeans.

Then the flame approached Jennifer's left hand.

"This will burn, but not directly," the doctor said, "But I must cut downto size, and soften, the metal so that it can be made a secure anchor on theback of your hand. Having it slip out would be most unfortunate, for you aswell as us."

He was as good as his word and expertly turned the torch onto the 12cm orso that still protruded. He cut very close to Jennifer's skin, but the flamenever came close to touching her. But metal conducts heat extremely well, andthe metal was melting as it was cut and softened. Jennifer's hand felt therapidly swelling burning, and her flesh against the metal still in her handwas seared and burned also. The levels of pain had been taken to yet anotherlevel, and Jennifer could not make more sounds but was reduced to stretchingher face around her gag in an effort to express her anguish. Her eyes wereblinded by tears that expressed no emotion but were simply a reaction to astimulus for which her body was never designed.

Through the pain, she became aware of a change in the doctor's actions. Thefire that still raged in her hand numbed it to anything else that happened,but she could still feel the impact as the doctor now used a small ball hammerto beat the red, soft metal into a cap that pressed firmly against the backof Jennifer's hand, searing the flesh beneath it and causing a new timbre inthe wall of pain that emanated from her limb.

"Now we must let it cool gradually: a quick cooling could be disastrous!" thedoctor declaimed to all in the room. Jennifer did not know if this was true,but knew well enough that it meant that the burning would not cease in herhand for some time.

The doctor moved with a flourish to Jennifer's feet, where he efficientlywent about the same process as he had done on Jennifer's hand. Each nail emergingfrom the hollow in the middle of her foot, the flame was brought even closerto her skin, but the doctor was clearly an expert with all manner of toolsand never once went wrong.

The pain in hand and foot had by now driven Jennifer into a state akin perhapsto hypnosis: she was aware of her surroundings and of the pain inflicted uponher, but its meaning and any response to it was deadened, her mind having temporarilydeparted in order to protect itself from the storm of unprecedented and extremesensation. The doctor was aware of this fact, but continued anyway until allfour limbs had been treated the same way.

The two cousins briefly left the room, and returned wheeling in a trolleyon which rested a sarcophagus. There was no strength left in Jennifer, andher mind was still unable to deal with the suffering that she had suffered,so she did not resist when the doctor first blindfolded her, and then turnedher over. Deftly, he fastened a strap around her chest, just under her bosom,and to it he tied her weak and pathetic wrists, positioning her in a parodyof the ancient Egyptian mummies.

With ease, the cousins lifted Jennifer into the coffin-like bed, whose dimensionshad been carefully tailored to match those of its intended occupant. To thecatatonic Jennifer, it was as if she floated through darkness into a worldof soft cushions. The sarcophagus was there to enable her to recover for thenext phase of her punishment; its soft lining was no sign of mercy on the partof the DeMoeiras, but a means to an end. The doctor looked at the naked womanwhom he had mutilated so cunningly and produced one final instrument, a long,thick, shining metal dildo that he forced home into her pliant pussy.

"That should help waken her," he suggested to the cameras recording everymoment of the operation, and then closed the lid. He had detected just theslightest of movements as he had inserted the cruel shaft, and so he wavedat the tiny transparent eyes of the sarcophagus before allowing Francis andJoel to push the trolley to the next stage.