Kristine struggled to hold back the tears as the intense heat slowly continued to cook her backside. Hanging helplessly suspended over the brazier's hot, glowing, coals she watched in mounting horror as Ereshkigal, the ancient Babylonian goddess of death, selected an obscenely brutal instrument of torturous delight.

Known as "Pears of Anguish", these hideously cruel devices resemble an oversized pear constructed of four metal "leaves" joined together by a hinge at their base. Sized to fit either the victim's mouth, rectum or vagina, once inserted within the chosen orifice the screw between the leaves is turned to slowly separate the four lobes of the "pear", forcibly expanding the orifice into which the pear has been inserted.

Staring at the pear in Ereshkigal's hand Kristine felt a sudden and overwhelmingly erotic sensation of pure masochistic anticipation. Clearly the death goddess intended to insert that obscenely oversized instrument of torture into either Kristine's vagina or rectum. And while she'd never experienced the pear Kristine knew with absolute certainty that its brutal dimensions insured that any fleeting moments of masochistic pleasure would be painfully short lived.

In the long centuries of agonizing nights she'd spent within the torturous depths of the Mesopotamian Underworld's dungeon torture chambers dying merely for Ereshkigal's sadistic amusement Kristine thought she'd experienced every form of sexual violation imaginable. But this night she discovered just how painfully wrong she was.

Even know, countless centuries later, that cruel pear still haunts Kristine's darkest nightmares. The searing agony she'd felt as the death goddess Ereshkigal used her inhuman strength to drive the impossibly oversized instrument of torture deep within the straining depths of Kristine's already distended vagina.

Then, with the pear filling every straining inch of Kristine's vagina, the death goddess slowly began to open the torture instrument sending fresh waves of mind searing agony exploding through Kristine's body with each turn of the pear's screw. Screaming in pain, Kristine stared in horror as the pear's slowly spreading lobes began to distend the smooth tanned skin of her belly as the unrelenting torture instrument mutilated her guts as the pear reached its maximum expansion size.

Even with her insides torn to shreds it still took Kristine most of that night to die, long hours of inescapable agonizing torment, long hours in which Kristine painfully experience one of the more subtle aspects of the torturous night of death that Ereshkigal had arranged for her. While fully opened within her guts, the center screw of the pear still extended several inches beyond the straining entrance of her sex, far enough to expose it to the intense heat radiating from the glowing brazier of coals.

And hours later, when Kristine finally expired, both her shapely backside and her mutilated insides were nicely cooked. Well done, just the way that Ereshkigal's troll guards like their meat.