("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2011. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- Nobody Expects the Spanish Inquisition by Daniel Waterhouse (mingevinge@yahoo.co.uk) *** The Spanish Inquisition kidnaps, tortures and sexually molests Isabella Punani. (MFFFg, ped, nc, rp, v, tor, fist, huml, beast, ws) *** Author Note: This story has graphic sexual content including rape, torture, paedophilia and bestiality. I advise you not to read this if it is illegal for you to do so, which in most places means you have to be at least 18. I do not condone any illegal activities depicted herein. Anyone can reproduce this story provided only that they do not do so on a pay site and that they reproduce it in its entirety. This story is partly inspired by "The Pit and the Pendulum", which is rubbish, but never mind. It is set in the Middle Ages a time of fear, superstition and ergotism (look it up on Google). I don't know medieval Spanish so I have rendered the dialogue in idiomatic English. Any resemblance between the characters depicted herein and any real people living or dead is entirely coincidental. *** My name is Isabella Punani. I am about twenty years old, with black hair, a large bust, and an hourglass figure. I suppose it all started two days ago when my husband and I were selling the bread we make: we were bakers you see. Anyway this morning I was wearing clogs, a long red skirt and a white blouse and we were making bread and my husband Ricardo asked me where I had put the sacks of flour we had bought yesterday. The discussion got slightly heated and I said: "Bloody hell, Dick, I didn't expect the Spanish Inquisition." At that point the door to our humble abode burst open and a bunch of men in red robes burst in screaming: "Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!" "What are you doing here?" asked Ricardo. "We'll ask the questions if you don't mind," said the Head Inquisitor a thirty year old man with a slightly apologetic air. "Oh, how remiss of me, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Torqemada and these two gentlemen are Michael and Peter. You're Ricardo and Isabella aren't you?" We nodded. "Oh good, they had ever such a funny turn when we got the wrong address and went next door," said Torqemada. "I tried to explain that I'm just doing my job, we all have to make ends meet and occasionally mistakes will be made. We said sorry about chopping her husband's head off any everything but some people just won't take one for the team. Me, me, me, that's all people are interested in nowadays. Still, win some, lose some. But I digress. You baked some bread yesterday and the people who bought it are having visions so we think Isabella's a witch and we're going to take her away so we can have a bit of a chin wag." "Are you going to torture her?" asked Ricardo. "Well... depends what you mean by torture really," said Torquemada. Ricardo gave him the old stink eye. "Not buying it, eh? Yeah, we're going to torture her," said Torquemada. He took out his sword and pointed it at Ricardo's chest. "Got a problem with that?" Ricardo shrugged. "Will you bring her back?" "Mmmm, dunno," said Torquemada. "I guess I can remarry," said Ricardo. "But Ricky," I cried. "They're going to hurt me and I didn't do anything wrong." "I'm sure if you're not a witch Torquemada will clear this up in a jiffy, but you have to admit he has a very good point," said Ricardo staring at Torquemada's sword, while a trickle of urine made its way slowly down his trouser leg. I snorted in disgust and turned to the Inquisitors. I turned to Ricardo. "If I ever come back I'll cut your fucking balls off." Ricardo looked at Torquemada. "You know I think she just might be a witch." Torquemada tied my hands and led me out with Michael and Peter in tow. *** I was led to a monastery and into a large cold room with a table at the end where Torquemada sat down while Michael and Peter remained at my sides. "Right, take your clothes off," said Torquemada. "And put on a bit of a show for me." "Go fuck yourself, you pervy twat," said I. Torquemada nodded. "Michael, Peter." Michael and Peter grabbed my skirt and pulled it down and then tore my blouse off. Michael grabbed me and lifted me up while Peter took my clogs then Michael dumped me unceremoniously on the floor. I stood up shaking and blushing with anger and humiliation and doing my best to cover my naughty bits. Torquemada looked at me. "Don't cover up, puts your arms out in the air and open your legs. Michael, Peter, inspect her for witch marks." Michael and Peter bent down and started to inspect my legs, running their hands up and down them and looking very closely at them, their ragged breathing gently tickling my skin. Michael moved up to my arse, pried my cheeks apart, looked closely at my puckered arsehole and then stuck a couple of fingers roughly into my poop chute: I grunted at the discomfort and saw a flicker of a smile on Torquemada's face. Michael let his other hand caress my back, ostensibly feeling for lumps. Peter moved up to my breasts and massaged them in his quest to find something wrong with my body then he let his hands drift down my abdomen. He knelt down, put his face close to my cunt and gently teased the lips apart. Then he stuffed a couple of fingers into my snatch, which was embarrassingly wet and sensitive, while he looked up at me with a knowing smirk. What's wrong with me? Why was humiliation turning me on? "That's enough," said Torquemada. "Are there any marks?" Michael and Peter nodded. "Put her in the cell with the other witches." *** I was dressed in a thin night dress and then thrown in a cement dungeon whose floor was covered with straw. An assortment of women sat around the cell looking bored: a fat woman (and when I say fat I don't mean "oh my god I had a whole pizza last night I'm a pig" fat, I mean sumo wrestler fat), a thin woman, a five year old girl and three plain looking women. All of them were dressed in sacks with arm holes. One of the frumps looked at me, eyes burning with resentment. "Well, look who's the new pet. I'm Anita and you're delicious." She walked up to me and tried to lift up my night dress, so I slapped her hand away. "Hmm," said she, looking around at the rest of the inmates. "We have a bit of resistance here. Grab her." And grab me they did with one of the frumpy women grabbing each arm while the fat woman sat on my legs. "You know," said Anita. "Seems to me it's a bit unfair for certain people to be given privileges the rest of us don't have." Then she started to rip my night dress. She seemed to find this hard going and by the time she had ripped the night dress off she was breathing heavily. She slowly my naked body up and down seeming to drink in every detail. "Mmmmm, Well, maybe there isn't much of a mystery about how she got her privileges after all," she said with a smirk, licking her lips. I blushed. "How dare you impugn my virtue. Just because you'll give it up to any passing hobo doesn't mean we're all addicted to fucking the first warm penis that comes our way." Waves of lust were moving through my body: I was daring her to hurt me, use me, punish me in the worst possible way. Irritation replaced amusement on Anita's face. "She has a hot little temper. Let's see how hot he cunt is." She reached down and ran her hand over my embarrassingly moist snatch. She held her hand up, her palm covered in my pussy juice. "I'd say she's about ready." She sniffed her hand and licked the juice off. "She smells and tastes ready." She crawled up my body and tried to kiss me. I turned my head away and she grabbed my face turning it toward her and pinched my nose until I had to open my mouth to breathe and then she kissed me and stuck her tongue in my mouth swirling it around and forcing me to taste my own snatch sauce. Then she grabbed my tits and kneaded them roughly, and pinched and slapped and bit them. I grunted with pain and frustration. Then she moved down to my pussy. She spanked it hard several times putting the full weight of her body behind each slap making me squeal with pain and pleasure at the same time. Then she knelt down and roughly jammed four fingers into my cunt jiggling them around while she licked my clit until I came in a mind blowing orgasm. When I came back to my senses, Anita was standing over me, her pussy practically dripping into my mouth. "Suck it," she ordered. "Fuck you," said I. She bent over, looked me in the eye and said: "Suck it, or I'll beat you so badly that not even Torqeuemada will want you." She lowered her pussy onto my face and I started to lick it. She hadn't washed for a while so her twat tasted dirty and salty, with a slight tangy hint of piss. She was getting really into it, she ground her minge hard into my face, gently bit her lower lip and moaned while she roughly groped her own tits. After what seemed like an eternity she came and then took a few seconds to wipe her cunt juices all over my face. "Mmmm, satisfying. But you know I think Petra would like some alone time with you," said the ringleader, gesturing toward the fat woman. The three plain looking women retreated and the Petra crawled up my body and started licking my face and grinding her fanny into my thigh, rubbing her huge tits against my chest and grunting like an animal, while sticking a thick sausage like finger up my cunt. It was like being glued by sweat to a huge blanket of blubber. After a few minutes of this I came wracked with ecstasy and shame at the same time but Petra kept going for about ten minutes before she came too but the buzz from my orgasm wore off fast and it seemed like a lot longer. "You know I think Julia should get a shot at her, don't you?" said Anita to the women around her then she went over to the five year old girls, took her hand and led her toward me. "You've got to be kidding, I'm not going to have sex with a child like some sick fucking pedo!" I shouted. Anita shook her head and sighed. "Oh now this is awkward." She turned to her three partners in crime: "Grab her." They grabbed me and held me down as before. Anita brought Julia closer and pointed to my snatch. "This is a cunt. Can you say "cunt"?" Julia looked very nervous. "C-cunt?" "Do you know what to do with a cunt?" Julia shook her head. "You put some of your fingers in it and then pump them back and forth." Julia put in a couple of fingers and pumped them a bit reluctantly then took them out. "Feels icky." Against my better instincts I felt incredibly turned on. "Please put them back in," I said huskily, my voice shaking with lust. Anita smiled. "I think we can do a bit better than that. Make a fist and then put the fist in." Julia shrugged, made a fist and slowly pushed and wiggled it into my snatch. Her fist made my pussy feel incredibly full and every time she moved one of her fingers slightly it sent little shocks of sensation through me. Anita knelt down next to Julia and pointed to my clit. "Wiggle your fingers about and lick that and you'll give her a big surprise." Julia hesitantly moved her face down to my cunt, put her tongue out and gently licked my clit. "Again, please," said I. Julia began gently to lick my clit, while wiggling her fingers and turning her fist slightly in my snatch. The sensations kept building and after a couple of minutes I came incredibly hard screaming with lust. I vaguely felt Julia slip her fist out of me and heard her say "Did I hurt her?" "No," said Anita. "She'll be fine." I sank into a deep sleep. *** I was rudely awoken the next morning by two guards dragging me along the rough, cold stone floor into a torture chamber where they hung me from a set of manacles suspended from the roof. Torquemada came in and looked me up and down appraisingly. "Are you ready to confess, witch?" "To hating your guts? Yes, I confess freely, with no reservations," I said, not really feeling that I had anything to lose. "I see," said he with a sigh. He then took a thin whip down from where it hung on the wall. I looked at the whip and gulped. All of a sudden my cutting wit didn't really seem like much of an asset. He let it uncoil on the floor and took a deep breath in through his nose letting it out through his mouth. Then he started to whip me savagely putting the whole weight of his body behind each stroke. Each lash brought an incredible, searing lightning bolt of pain that left her screaming. The pain from each stroke faded only to be followed a few minutes later by another stroke, seemingly perfectly timed so that I would be in almost constant pain. I tried to hang limp but that just made my arms hurt so I had to remain standing while he lashed every patch of skin on the front of my body. My heart hammered as it was trying to escape my ribcage. After about half an hour of this he walked up to me. "Ready to confess?" I shook my head, unable to speak. He put his fingers into my cunt and found that it was wet, much to my shame and consternation. Then he opened the front of his robe to reveal his erect seven inch cock, which he slid into my waiting fuckhole. His body moved against mine, scraping over the stinging welts left by his whip, sending shooting pains through my body, which mixed with the pleasure from my snatch. After a few minutes I started to grind back against his cock and shortly thereafter I came overwhelmed by the sensations too tired even to make a noise followed closely by him. He slipped his cock out of my pussy. "Do you confess?" I nodded, just wanting it all to be over. "What does that nod mean?" he said. "I confess. I'm a witch, I croaked. Then I cleared my throat. "I like to suck Satan's big scaly cock and then I let him shove it up my cunt. No I don't just let him. I beg him to do it and in return he gives me magic powers to turn people into frogs and make my enemies suffer warts and stuff." He nodded and then unbuckled the chain letting me fall from the floor and as I lay there he peed on me, the warm liquid running over my whip welts, making me grunt with pain. He closed up his robe and went to the door. "Bring in the familiar." He turned toward me. "You understand that we can't just take your word for it that you're a witch. For some reason I can't quite fathom people confess to being witches when really they aren't and so we have to test confessions." He started to walk toward me, bringing with him a large Alsatian on a chain. "So we have a witch's familiar here, and if you are familiar enough with it we'll know you're a witch," said Torquemada. He moved it so that its penis hung over my face. "Suck its cock." "You're kidding," I said. "If you're a witch then you won't mind doing this. If you're saying you're not a witch then I'll have to come up with some other way to interrogate you," he said, sounding annoyed. As little as I wanted to fellate a dog, I liked the idea of another session with Torquemada even less. I looked at its cock, it was short and red. I started to lick it, it tasted salty and it soon started to swell until it was about five inches long, its swollen head protruding out of its foreskin. Then I took the dog's shaft into my mouth and licked it and sucked it while the dog growled with pleasure. After a few minutes it came producing a small amount of salty cum. "Let the familiar fuck you," said Torquemada. I moved from under the dog and lay on my back and tried to gently pull the dog so that its cock would make contact with my cunt. After about ten minutes I managed to do this. The dog quickly got the idea after its dick touched my snatch and he pushed his cock into me and started humping. After he was finished, his cock remained lodged inside me, trapped there by its swollen head and it was at that point that the Pope walked in. Jeez, if only he'd stopped by a bit later, oh well, never mind... The Pope looked at Torqemada and sighed. "Riiiiggggghhtt. So this is what you're up to now? I've had enough of this, you're a loose cannon and I'm shutting down your department. I mean, honestly, what do you think would happen if people found out the Catholic Church was putting up with sexual abuse, it would be a PR disaster. You've pushed things too far this time. When I'm done with you you won't be able to get burned at the stake in this town, or anywhere else for that matter." "Oh yeah," said Torquemada. "Well fuck you, I may be unorthodox but I GET RESULTS DAMMIT! How dare you sit in your ivory tower and lecture me about how to do my job. That pointy hat must be cutting off the circulation to your brain. I'm holding the line against the witches and their witchery. I'm out on the streets every day making the world safe so you can sit up in your palace and issue Papal bulls, huh, Papal bullshit more like it. So if you don't like how I do my job you can take your staff and use it to clean out your colon because I'm done taking your orders, you fat, pompous fuck." The Pope shook his head. "I had hoped you wouldn't force me to do this." He turned to the doorway behind him , pointed to Torquemada and made the universally recognised throat cut gesture. A couple of soldiers came through the door but not before Torquemada grabbed the Pope and put a sword to his throat. I'm not sure exactly what happened next but the Pope seems to have got hold of Torquemada's meat and two veg because Torquemada dropped his sword went white and dropped to the floor clutching his nether regions. The Pope's soldiers came up to Torquemada and stabbed him. The Pope looked down at Torquemada. "Can't get the staff these days," he said with a sigh. Then he saw the spreading pool of blood and got even more upset. "Nothing gets blood out of flagstones, we'll have to replace half the floor now, this is the worst day ever." Then the Pope turned to me and cleared his throat. "Um, when you're done there you can go. If you hand your bill to one of the monks on the way out they'll see you get paid." Then he walked away, presumably to do whatever it is that Pope's do all day. When the dog's knot had subsided I managed to find a piece of parchment and scrawled a huge amount of money on it (after all, I might as well get something out of all this). I left the torture chamber, asked one of the monks for directions on how to leave and handed him my "bill." The Church never bothered to pay me. Bastards. Oh, and I'm still living with my useless husband but I'm teaching the kids to hate him, so that's okay and besides one of them looks a bit like Torquemada and was conceived at about the right time I guess that'll have to be an adequate revenge. The End *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* The author does not condone child abuse, this story is meant as an erotic fantasy not depicting anything in real life. Anyone acting out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a fellow convict in their local prison system. *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Kristen's collection - Directory 71