The god Nergal looked on as Melinda fought to retain what little remained of her sanity as she dangled
helplessly from the hook.
"Melinda, I know you think you're one of my favorites and perhaps for a time you were, but never forget that unlike you, Ereshkigal and I are gods, the eternal rulers the Mesopotamian Underworld, while you are nothing more than a mere pleasure slave."
Stepping closer, Nergal slapped the helplessly suffering woman's shapely ass. Laughing as he watched the pleasure slave's shapely young body convulsing in agony as she slowly swayed from the hook embedded through her mouth Nergal, the ancient Sumerian god of war and pestilences continued, "I think I'll leave you hanging like this for a few days to give you an opportunity to contemplate the eternity of agonizing torment that awaits you."
Pausing to bask in the almost hedonistic emotional torrent emanating from Melinda's mind, Nergal reached up and brutally crushed one of the tormented woman's lovely nipples as he added, "And, if you think what you're enduring now is bad, perhaps you should worry about the torments I have in mind for you before you finally manage to escape that hook by dying."
Unable to escape the coming days of obscene torture, Melinda felt the tears welling up in her eyes and tried to scream, but the only sound that echoed off the cold unfeeling stone walls of the torture chamber was a muted gurgle, the hook through her mouth had also skewered her tongue.
As Melinda is coming to painfully realize, in the Mesopotamian Underworld there are gods and there are mortals. And if you are a pleasure slave, at your peril, never for a single moment confuse what you are.