Despite her acting career as one of torture pornís first superstars and over 30 years as one of the Resortís most sought-after companions, Charlie felt an overwhelming cold knot of terror twisting deep within her guts as she starred at the newest horrifying addition to the Resortís premier North Tower torture chambers, the aptly named, ďPost of Pain.Ē

Suspended by chain from the torture chamberís high ceiling, rows of razor-sharp six-inch spikes covered the postís massive rectangular wooden shaft, and yet it was the postís terrifying crotch saddle that sent icy tendrils of fear racing along her spine, helplessly drawing Charlieís eyes back to its unspeakably sharp looking curved and serrated crotch blade.

Earlier that day, one of the Resortís leading researchers delighted in explaining the Post of Painís torturously interesting history. Created as a means of extracting confessions from women accused of adultery, its use ended after only a few short years, judged far too brutal for use even the most diabolical of medieval dungeons, the Post of Pain was sadly lost to history. That was until just a few months ago, when one of his research assistants discovered a set of leather bound journals at an archaeological excavation site high in the Italian Alps. These almost eight hundred-year-old journals contained descriptions of the Postís features as well as unspeakable accounts of its barbaric employ.

Now, standing next to the Resortís faithful reproduction of the Post of Pain, as I stared in horror at the utterly brutal blade mounted atop its crotch saddle, I felt those familiar sensations of desperate erotic longing to suffer in unrelenting agony. Letís just say that since joining the Resort as one of their companions, my unquenchable masochistic desires, once thought a problem, had actually become a feature, a seriously perverted and wickedly awesome feature, who knew?