Walking slowly through his mansion’s private museum of medieval instruments of torture Jennifer stopped next to an authentic wheel rack that had once graced the dungeons of the Spanish Inquisition and smiled, “Have I ever told you that of all the diabolically cruel instruments of torture in your vast collection I love being on this wheel rack the best. I love the way the rack gradually stretches my body taut until every muscle in my body burning with exquisite masochistic pleasure, the rack’s tension leaving my body helplessly vulnerable to whatever dark amusements you desire to inflict upon me.”

Pausing to take another sip of wine, “I can still remember that first night memorable night I spent on this rack, my body stretched agonizingly tight as you cruelly whipped me with that heavy leather flogger. I can still vividly remember the look on your face afterward when I told you that night was the first time I’d actually reached orgasm while being whipped or that I’d climaxed multiple times before you finally cast aside that flogger and took me. The intensity of that instant, the incredible mix of pain and pleasure as your cock brutally impaled the tightness of my sex, I came so suddenly and so hard I thought I’d pulled a few muscles.”

Smiling at the memory Jennifer continued, “I orgasmed another six times before you finally came inside me. I thought after you were through that you would release me from the rack but you didn’t, instead while you were still inside me you stuffed that oversized ball gag into my mouth. Taken by surprise all I could do was watch in growing horror as you walked to the side of the wheel and tightened the rack another agonizing notch. That single notch was all it took to change that burning ache I was enduring into an explosion of raw pain. I can still recall that look of evil satisfaction in your eyes as you patiently waited until I stopped screaming before you told me you intended to keep me on that rack until morning, that you intended to spend the night fucking and flogging my tautly stretched body. Oh, and I just loved the way you failed to mention that during the night you intended to continue tightening that rack a few more agonizingly painful notches.”

Pausing for another sip of wine, “I spent that first incredible night here on this rack almost four years ago when I was still one of your grad students at the university. I know that I’m not the first woman to share your life. I’ve heard all the darkly whispered rumors, the ones that say that every few years, the woman in your life mysteriously disappears, replaced by another fresh, more easily infatuated young lady. So who is this time, perhaps Sara, that cute little red head taking your course in medieval crime and punishment this semester?”

Seeing the startled truth in Marcus’s eyes, Jennifer smiled sadly as she stated, “That’s what I’d thought. I guess the time finally came for you to find someone new to replace me both in your bed as well as in your torture chamber.”

The sudden look of fear is Marcus’s eyes almost made Jennifer giggle, “You needn’t worry Marcus, I’d never do anything that would endanger your coveted and prestigious position at the university. However, I do have one request, one that’s utterly non-negotiable. I want you to put me on this rack one final time, I want you to fuck me senseless, I want you to flog me until I climax, but most of all this time I don’t want you to stop in the morning. That’s right Marcus, this time I want to give you a gift that no other woman has ever offered you, I want to die for you upon this rack.”

Seeing the look of shocked surprise in Marcus’s eyes Jennifer continued, “You once told me that in the hands of a skilled torturer the rack rarely inflicted any lasting injuries upon its victims, but you also mentioned that the rack was also used by the Inquisition as a diabolical instrument of execution. That women, ones convicted of crimes against the church often died upon the rack, their deaths taking 5 or 6 agonizingly brutal days, the rack slowly tightened until their joints dislocated and eventually separated as the cartilage, ligaments and muscles of their body gradually failed under the racks unrelenting pressure.”

Seeing the growing look of eager anticipation in Marcus’s eyes Jennifer smiled wickedly, “Oh and Marcus, since this time I’m actually going to die you might want to consider some new and interesting torments to inflict upon me in the coming days. After all, why limit yourself merely to that flogger when you have all these delightfully torturous toys? Perhaps it’s time to actually light the charcoal in that brazier and heat up all those authentic medieval irons and pinchers in its flames. And Marcus, when you finally grow tired of fucking me you should consider opening that glass display case by the door and take the opportunity to learn firsthand what is was like to force that cruel vaginal pear deep into a woman’s vagina and slowly open it until it brutally destroys her reproductive organs.”

Smiling darkly as she watched Marcus beginning to consider all this torments available in his collection, “Marcus this is your chance to finally discover the joy of being a medieval torturer so put on that black leather hood and try out everything from your iron thumb screws to those cruel breast rippers. And remember, even gagged, if my screams become too much of a distraction you can always use that authentic fourteenth century Spanish tongue ripper to silence me for good.”

Pausing to drink the last of her wine Jennifer set aside the glass as she toed off her high heels, then turning back to Marcus she slipped the thin straps of her revealing evening gown off her shoulders allowing the silky black gown to slip down her body to pool around her feet as she leaned into Marcus, her lips lightly brushing the side of his neck as she whispered, “We’ve both known, that deep down, every time you’ve put me on this rack that secretly you didn’t actually want to stop in the morning.”

Then as Marcus watched in awe Jennifer stepped out of her gown and positioning herself against the rack’s iron studded wheel invitingly raised her wrists toward the ominously waiting restraints, “What I’ve never shared with you Marcus, was since that first terrifying night I never really wanted you to stop as well...”

It was early on Jennifer’s fifth night on the rack when they both realized the end was near, as with each torturous click of the rack the steadily increasing strain on her abdominal muscles made it harder and harder for Jennifer to breathe. The fateful moment finally came just before sunrise as Marcus tightened that rack one final notch and Jennifer’s abused abdominal muscles finally failed. From behind his executioner’s hood watched with grim amused satisfaction as the look of pain and terror slowly faded from Jennifer’s eyes until she was gone.

Later that morning as he fed the last of Jennifer’s dismembered remains into the acid tank Marcus had to admit that of all the women in his life Jennifer’s slow torturous death on the wheel had been by far the most erotically satisfying, far more so then simply listening to Jennifer’s screams as she slowly died within the authentic fourteenth century Iron Maiden he’d always used to dispose of his lovers.