Kristine was beginning to worry that she'd done something terribly wrong and offended the death goddess. It had been several hours since one of Ereshkigal's troll guards arrived to drag her down into one of the Mesopotamian Underworld's countless dungeon torture chambers only to leave her shackled upon this uncomfortable torture cross.
Kristine was sure that the troll guard had taken considerable pleasure in the way she'd cried out as he shackled her ankles obscenely wide, causing the sharp iron points to bite deep into the tender flesh of Kristine's crotch as her full weight came down on cross's spiked crotch rest. Even now, hours later, Kristine felt a smile upon her face as she wondered what that troll guard would have thought if he'd only known that it had been a cry of pure unadulterated masochistic pleasure that escaped her lips, rather then one of terrified anguish.
Of course, upon further reflection, her current position although lacking in agonizing torment was still rather diabolically torturous in ways that only a submissive pain slut like Kristine could truly appreciate. Shackled helplessly spread-eagle upon this cruel torture cross, the unrelenting bite of the crotch rest's sharp iron spikes combined with the cool damp dungeon air were definitely having their fiendish intended affect on Kristine's lovely nude form.
Already having spent the last few hours hopelessly trying to reach orgasm Kristine once again cried out in sexual frustration. One would have thought that one of Ereshkigal's pleasure slaves, one with centuries of masochistic practice could find a way to use the crotch rest's sharp iron spikes to reach an orgasm, but the considerable tautness of the shackles holding Kristine upon the torture cross held her body virtually immobile. No matter how hard she tried, Kristine simply couldn't move her pelvis enough to masturbate her way to orgasm. Even with the painful presence of the crotch rest's sharp spikes.
Kristine was just about to give up in sexual frustration when she heard a faint sound echoing off the dungeon torture chamber's ancient stone walls, the click of tall steel shod stiletto heels against the dungeon's cold stone floor.
A few moments later, as the death goddess Ereshkigal emerged from the darkness, all thoughts of sexual frustration disappeared from Kristine's mind with the sight of that razor sharp sword in Ereshkigal's hand.
Pausing before the clearly terrified pleasure slave, Ereshkigal reached up to lightly caress the smooth white skin of Kristine's lovely face. Already the death goddess could taste the delicious mix of emotions coursing though Kristine's masochistically submissive mind, that wonderful taste of pure unrelenting terror mixed with Kristine's desperate masochistic need for every agonizing moment of pain that sword's deadly presence promised.
Gazing into Kristine's beautiful eyes the death goddess paused one final moment before plunging the tip of her sword into Kristine's guts.
Staring into the glowing red depths of Ereshkigal's eyes Kristine's mouth opened in a silent cry of pure agonizing torment as she felt the cold steel of Ereshkigal's sword blade effortlessly slip into her lower abdomen.
Pausing to angle the point of her sword upward into her pleasure slave's body the death goddess smiled darkly as she sensed Kristine's sudden terrified understanding of the Ereshkigal's diabolically fiendish intentions. Not satisfied with merely running Kristine through or even disemboweling the willing pleasure slave, the death goddess intended to sheath the full length of the blade in Kristine's dying body.
Despite the tautness of her shackles Kristine's body convulsed against her restraints as the death goddess cruelly threaded the razor sharp sword blade upward through Kristine's guts until her sword's raised bronze guard reached Kristine's belly.
Pausing to staring one final time into Kristine's eyes Ereshkigal could taste the unimaginable pain and raw overwhelming fear coursing though Kristine's mind. The way Kristine's heart fluttered agonizingly with every rapid beat a sure indication that the razor sharp point of the sword had finally reached the underside of this young woman's heart and that they both understood that even the slightest upward movement of the blade would end Kristine's life.
Enjoying the intoxicating taste of Kristine's terror, Ereshkigal smiled as she said, "I see that we've both enjoyed our evening together Kristine. I've enjoyed this so much that I think we'll do it again tomorrow night."
The full horror of Ereshkigal's final words were still sinking into Kristine's pain racked consciousness when she felt the death goddess cruelly push the sword blade upward into her heart. And Kristine's final thought, even as she felt herself dying was still darkly masocistic, next time I hope she heats that sword blade until its glowing red-hot before she sticks it in me.