Smiling as she felt the exhilarating torrent of raw emotional anguish washing over her, Ereshkigal
reveled in the beautiful young woman's obscenely painful torture. Long accustomed to the pleasures
implicit in the torturous deaths of others, the ancient Mesopotamian goddess of death never the less
marveled at Marie's complete and unhesitating willingness to endure such a hideously agonizing death
merely for Ereshkigal's darkly sadistic pleasure.
Once, a highly sought after courtesan know throughout the royal courts of seventeenth century Italy, Marie had long desired more than the mere pleasures of the flesh could provide. Approached one dark and rainy night by one of the ghostly companions of Nergal, the Sumerian god of war and pestilences and Ereshkigal's husband, Marie had accepted Ereshkigal's offer of eternal youth and beauty in exchange for willingly becoming one of the goddess of death's pleasure slaves, committing herself to the eternal cycle of unimagined pleasures and torturous deaths the offer demands.
As she desperately fought for her next agonizing breath, Marie knew that she'd made the right choice all those centuries ago. Through all the countless tortures, through all the slow and obscenely painful deaths, she'd always found dark comfort in her unquenchable masochistic need to suffer and die for the amusement of the goddess. Even now, as she stood helplessly impaled on this horrendously tall steel shaft Marie still managed to take dark masochistic comfort in the cruel unrelenting torment she was enduring.
Skewered from her sex to her mouth by the impalement post's cold steel shaft, the slightest movement of her sexy young body sent fresh waves of mind searing agony exploding though her. While that first tiny trickle of warm blood slowly beginning to run down the inside of her thigh a terrifying reminder of the long torturous inescapable days that lie ahead.