DevilTouch
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This is my first attempt. Hope it's enjoyable.
Please Note: Punishment, non-con, includes a very brief, non-graphic whipping scene.
Isabel was stunning. A healthy, curvaceous figure with her bust refusing to hide underneath her dress, long, curly auburn hair, shinning green eyes, and a smile that could kill a man while melting him at the same time. She wasn’t meek or proper, like most noble women. Certainly, she could put on the façade, but when the night fell and she came to me, that façade would shrink away.
The problem? I was the cook.
We kept our arrangement secret for almost a year. By day, all association was kept to a respectful, proper manner. By night, we sneak out to be together. Sometimes we would go behind the gardens and walk and talk. Most of the time, we would go behind the gardens and engage in more intimate activities. In a better world, we wouldn’t have had to hide anything. We were adults of the same age, neither betrothed, and we cared for each other. Yet we don’t live in a better world, do we?
One wretched night, moments after I returned from one of our visits to rest, I was called into the Lord’s presence. Well, I suppose, “called” is the wrong word. His howls most certainly woke up half the castle before his most trusted servant, Bernard, came to collect me. One look at Bernard answered any questions: we were found out. I was going to die.
Or perhaps, as I would later come to realize, I would so wish.
I was brought to what I assumed would inevitably be the room where I would be sentenced to my execution. The Lord was there, staring at me with a wild rage. Lady Joanna was next to him, looking disgusted. Isabel was there. She had an odd expression. She looked fearful, but also, what was that strange look in her eye? The look she was trying to shield, but rather poorly? Sorrow?
No. That wasn’t it, I realized. It was excitement.
The Lord looked straight in my eye as he listed off the sins I was caught committing. The messenger was not revealed, and I was not such a fool as to use my tongue to speak. “You are lucky we don’t bring you the hangman at once,” he replied, at the end of his speech.
I paused, startled. I wasn’t going to die?
“You can thank Lady Joanna for that. It was her decision to spare you. She pities you because you are a young, unmarried man who was a fool, and my sinful daughter has acknowledged that she went with you willingly.” I remained silent, for fear that speaking would result in the Lord reversing his position on my execution. The Lord slapped me. “Geoffrey, I believe I requested you to thank Lady Joanna.” I knelt before her. “Good. Rise.” I did so. “Punishment, however, must be carried out. You are a filthy man and my daughter is a sinner. Your sentence, therefore, must be one that will make you both learn not to behave in such a manner.” He turned to Bernard. “Bernard, bring Geoffrey to the lowest floor in the dungeon and prepare him for his punishment. I will bring my daughter to you when I am ready for her to observe Geoffrey’s punishment.”
I froze. The lowest floor of the dungeon? The servants spoke in whispers about that dreaded place. No one would say precisely what the punishment was, but men who were brought down there were thought to be driven so mad they could be heard cackling in the night.
Bernard dragged me out with strong arms. As he walked me towards the dungeon, I considered fleeing. The dreaded man must have read my thoughts, because he sneered. “Don’t even consider running. You would be caught and killed immediately.”
I hated that man in that moment, but not because he was incorrect. I knew too well the consequences. Finally, we reached the dark dungeon. Two other men who I had never seen before, both quite muscular, one about my height and one very tall, were present, and without a word, they leapt at me. As instinct- I swear!- I attempted to run. But one of them, a taller man, pulled out his whip and gave me ten sharp lashes. I feel to the ground, and they lifted me onto a large, wooden table, in a sitting position. They began to restrain me. My arms were chained horizontally, and my legs were chained as far apart a they could be stretched. This revealed an embarrassing fact- the whip had hurt me, but it also given me an air of excitement. It was poor timing, in fact, that this was the moment the Lord walked in with Lady Joanna and Isabel.
I couldn’t hide my shame, and all saw it. The Lord stared at me and said, “Filthy.” He looked at the other two men. “I believe you can all see that.” The dreaded guards nodded. “My sinful daughter has fallen to his charms and must be made to witness the consequences of his filth.” To my great distress, Isabel, for whatever reason, did not seem upset about this proposition. “We will take this one sequence at a time. When you gentlemen are ready.”
The men moved briskly walked behind me and I began to hyperventilate. What was going to happen? I was sure it wouldn’t be as simple as more whipping.
I immediately learned that it was not.
Had I not been tightly bound, I might have jumped a foot when both men began to roughly attack my ribcage. Before I realized what was happening, I was squealing like a small child.
Oh dear god. This? So silly, so humiliating, yet so perfect. The rumors were true; this would drive me mad. I quickly broke into panicked laughter as these cruel buffoons continued to relentlessly torture my torso.
And then they decided to experiment with me. The shorter one, hopped on the table next to me and started switching to lighter, circular movements. Circular movements moving up slightly higher every time he went. Moving towards my underarms, a hell spot.
The taller one continued his rough assault on me, but began moving down. He discovered another hell spot in my hips.
I didn’t know what was worse, the man relentlessly torturing my hips, or the agonizing, slow movement towards my underarms. I was laughing hysterically already and desperately trying to pull at the dreaded chains to no avail.
Then the shorter man reached my underarms. I was already at the point of silent, tearful laughter when that dreaded man began making slow, cruel spirals around my underarms. And then, he finally got to the center of the spiral, the center of my underarms, and ended all of his restraint. He began torturing my helpless underarms as aggressively as the tall man was still torturing my hips.
The brought out a fresh, loud round of hysterical, helpless laughter. They kept this going for several moments, as I laughed and squealed and cried. And then, it stopped. For just a moment, it stopped. I didn’t know what was going on around me; the only thing my mind was breathing sweet air. I barely noticed the tall men tying the cloth around me eyes until I realized I was blind.
And then it started once more.
This time, it started softly. Very soft. Maddeningly soft. They were exploring again, it appeared. One of them was searching for another hell spot until he found one on my chest. I let out a high whimper as he lightly dragged all ten fingers across it in a constant, steady motion.
The other one, the sonofabitch he was, searched until he discovered the worst hellspot of all: my upper, inner thighs and groin area. I felt the gentle finger on my upper left thigh and screamed, loudly. Lightly, lightly, two hands began to focus their attention on that sensitive area. It was hell. Hell on Earth. And then it only got worse.
“Oh my,” the demon torturer said. “I believe I found the goldmine. I may need assistance.”
“No!” I screamed. “I repent! I repent! Please, stop this! I beg of you!”
The men laughed. The torture stalled for a moment. I was given a breath. Just the one. One breath before both dreaded men exploited my most sensitive area. Two hands attacked the very top of my thighs, the softness now turning into the the harsh, cruel torture torture they began with. The other two hands attacked the area behind my most private spot, less harshly. Almost tenderly. But endlessly. Relentlessly. Unbearably.
“I… ahhhhhh! … I repent! Forgive- eeeeeeehhhhhhhhhhhhAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!- me, my Lord! Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” I attempted to shriek, before succumbing to hysterical laughter, weeping, and helpless, incoherent babbling.
This lasted for what felt like years. By the time the Lord had called them to a halt, I had nearly passed out.
The tall man untied the cloth over my eyes. I took several breaths and looked around. Lady Joanna was praising the men on their good work torturing me. The Lord was watching me, unflinchingly. And my beautiful, loving Isabel could barely hide her enthusiasm.
“Well, then, Geoffrey,” the Lord said loudly. The room fell to attention. “You say you repent?”
“Yes, my Lord,” I exclaimed. Or so I attempted. My voice was so raspy, the guards started to laugh, only to be stopped by a sharp look from the Lord.
“So you say,” he responded, thoughtfully. “And perhaps you think you believe it. Yet I see you are no less filthy.” I looked down and felt my stomach drop. “Yet the tears from your eyes suggest that you may desire to keep your filth away from my daughter.”
“Yes! My Lord!”
The Lord nodded. He turned to Isabel. “And you, my sinful daughter. Have you learned the same?”
Isabel was quiet for a moment. Then, with an innocent face, she looked at him. “I would like to change, Father. And I would like to dissolve you of your shame for me. But I’m not sure I am capable doing so.” She looked away, sadly.
The Lord sighed. “I see we will need another sequence. And this time, it won’t be so kind.”
To be continued
Please Note: Punishment, non-con, includes a very brief, non-graphic whipping scene.
Isabel was stunning. A healthy, curvaceous figure with her bust refusing to hide underneath her dress, long, curly auburn hair, shinning green eyes, and a smile that could kill a man while melting him at the same time. She wasn’t meek or proper, like most noble women. Certainly, she could put on the façade, but when the night fell and she came to me, that façade would shrink away.
The problem? I was the cook.
We kept our arrangement secret for almost a year. By day, all association was kept to a respectful, proper manner. By night, we sneak out to be together. Sometimes we would go behind the gardens and walk and talk. Most of the time, we would go behind the gardens and engage in more intimate activities. In a better world, we wouldn’t have had to hide anything. We were adults of the same age, neither betrothed, and we cared for each other. Yet we don’t live in a better world, do we?
One wretched night, moments after I returned from one of our visits to rest, I was called into the Lord’s presence. Well, I suppose, “called” is the wrong word. His howls most certainly woke up half the castle before his most trusted servant, Bernard, came to collect me. One look at Bernard answered any questions: we were found out. I was going to die.
Or perhaps, as I would later come to realize, I would so wish.
I was brought to what I assumed would inevitably be the room where I would be sentenced to my execution. The Lord was there, staring at me with a wild rage. Lady Joanna was next to him, looking disgusted. Isabel was there. She had an odd expression. She looked fearful, but also, what was that strange look in her eye? The look she was trying to shield, but rather poorly? Sorrow?
No. That wasn’t it, I realized. It was excitement.
The Lord looked straight in my eye as he listed off the sins I was caught committing. The messenger was not revealed, and I was not such a fool as to use my tongue to speak. “You are lucky we don’t bring you the hangman at once,” he replied, at the end of his speech.
I paused, startled. I wasn’t going to die?
“You can thank Lady Joanna for that. It was her decision to spare you. She pities you because you are a young, unmarried man who was a fool, and my sinful daughter has acknowledged that she went with you willingly.” I remained silent, for fear that speaking would result in the Lord reversing his position on my execution. The Lord slapped me. “Geoffrey, I believe I requested you to thank Lady Joanna.” I knelt before her. “Good. Rise.” I did so. “Punishment, however, must be carried out. You are a filthy man and my daughter is a sinner. Your sentence, therefore, must be one that will make you both learn not to behave in such a manner.” He turned to Bernard. “Bernard, bring Geoffrey to the lowest floor in the dungeon and prepare him for his punishment. I will bring my daughter to you when I am ready for her to observe Geoffrey’s punishment.”
I froze. The lowest floor of the dungeon? The servants spoke in whispers about that dreaded place. No one would say precisely what the punishment was, but men who were brought down there were thought to be driven so mad they could be heard cackling in the night.
Bernard dragged me out with strong arms. As he walked me towards the dungeon, I considered fleeing. The dreaded man must have read my thoughts, because he sneered. “Don’t even consider running. You would be caught and killed immediately.”
I hated that man in that moment, but not because he was incorrect. I knew too well the consequences. Finally, we reached the dark dungeon. Two other men who I had never seen before, both quite muscular, one about my height and one very tall, were present, and without a word, they leapt at me. As instinct- I swear!- I attempted to run. But one of them, a taller man, pulled out his whip and gave me ten sharp lashes. I feel to the ground, and they lifted me onto a large, wooden table, in a sitting position. They began to restrain me. My arms were chained horizontally, and my legs were chained as far apart a they could be stretched. This revealed an embarrassing fact- the whip had hurt me, but it also given me an air of excitement. It was poor timing, in fact, that this was the moment the Lord walked in with Lady Joanna and Isabel.
I couldn’t hide my shame, and all saw it. The Lord stared at me and said, “Filthy.” He looked at the other two men. “I believe you can all see that.” The dreaded guards nodded. “My sinful daughter has fallen to his charms and must be made to witness the consequences of his filth.” To my great distress, Isabel, for whatever reason, did not seem upset about this proposition. “We will take this one sequence at a time. When you gentlemen are ready.”
The men moved briskly walked behind me and I began to hyperventilate. What was going to happen? I was sure it wouldn’t be as simple as more whipping.
I immediately learned that it was not.
Had I not been tightly bound, I might have jumped a foot when both men began to roughly attack my ribcage. Before I realized what was happening, I was squealing like a small child.
Oh dear god. This? So silly, so humiliating, yet so perfect. The rumors were true; this would drive me mad. I quickly broke into panicked laughter as these cruel buffoons continued to relentlessly torture my torso.
And then they decided to experiment with me. The shorter one, hopped on the table next to me and started switching to lighter, circular movements. Circular movements moving up slightly higher every time he went. Moving towards my underarms, a hell spot.
The taller one continued his rough assault on me, but began moving down. He discovered another hell spot in my hips.
I didn’t know what was worse, the man relentlessly torturing my hips, or the agonizing, slow movement towards my underarms. I was laughing hysterically already and desperately trying to pull at the dreaded chains to no avail.
Then the shorter man reached my underarms. I was already at the point of silent, tearful laughter when that dreaded man began making slow, cruel spirals around my underarms. And then, he finally got to the center of the spiral, the center of my underarms, and ended all of his restraint. He began torturing my helpless underarms as aggressively as the tall man was still torturing my hips.
The brought out a fresh, loud round of hysterical, helpless laughter. They kept this going for several moments, as I laughed and squealed and cried. And then, it stopped. For just a moment, it stopped. I didn’t know what was going on around me; the only thing my mind was breathing sweet air. I barely noticed the tall men tying the cloth around me eyes until I realized I was blind.
And then it started once more.
This time, it started softly. Very soft. Maddeningly soft. They were exploring again, it appeared. One of them was searching for another hell spot until he found one on my chest. I let out a high whimper as he lightly dragged all ten fingers across it in a constant, steady motion.
The other one, the sonofabitch he was, searched until he discovered the worst hellspot of all: my upper, inner thighs and groin area. I felt the gentle finger on my upper left thigh and screamed, loudly. Lightly, lightly, two hands began to focus their attention on that sensitive area. It was hell. Hell on Earth. And then it only got worse.
“Oh my,” the demon torturer said. “I believe I found the goldmine. I may need assistance.”
“No!” I screamed. “I repent! I repent! Please, stop this! I beg of you!”
The men laughed. The torture stalled for a moment. I was given a breath. Just the one. One breath before both dreaded men exploited my most sensitive area. Two hands attacked the very top of my thighs, the softness now turning into the the harsh, cruel torture torture they began with. The other two hands attacked the area behind my most private spot, less harshly. Almost tenderly. But endlessly. Relentlessly. Unbearably.
“I… ahhhhhh! … I repent! Forgive- eeeeeeehhhhhhhhhhhhAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!- me, my Lord! Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” I attempted to shriek, before succumbing to hysterical laughter, weeping, and helpless, incoherent babbling.
This lasted for what felt like years. By the time the Lord had called them to a halt, I had nearly passed out.
The tall man untied the cloth over my eyes. I took several breaths and looked around. Lady Joanna was praising the men on their good work torturing me. The Lord was watching me, unflinchingly. And my beautiful, loving Isabel could barely hide her enthusiasm.
“Well, then, Geoffrey,” the Lord said loudly. The room fell to attention. “You say you repent?”
“Yes, my Lord,” I exclaimed. Or so I attempted. My voice was so raspy, the guards started to laugh, only to be stopped by a sharp look from the Lord.
“So you say,” he responded, thoughtfully. “And perhaps you think you believe it. Yet I see you are no less filthy.” I looked down and felt my stomach drop. “Yet the tears from your eyes suggest that you may desire to keep your filth away from my daughter.”
“Yes! My Lord!”
The Lord nodded. He turned to Isabel. “And you, my sinful daughter. Have you learned the same?”
Isabel was quiet for a moment. Then, with an innocent face, she looked at him. “I would like to change, Father. And I would like to dissolve you of your shame for me. But I’m not sure I am capable doing so.” She looked away, sadly.
The Lord sighed. “I see we will need another sequence. And this time, it won’t be so kind.”
To be continued
Last edited:
