Carla awoke, moaning in pain, face down. Her back ached and her belly felt as if it had been punctured. The brand on her thigh burned her, making her move her leg in discomfort. Her nipples hurt, and her labia felt swollen and scalded.
She felt a weight to her right, a body.
She opened her eyes, remembering what had happened, and where she was. Carla tried to get up, and she bumped her head on the stone ceiling of her cell. She was still in the dungeons, locked in the kennels. She had to remain prone, the ceiling barely some 10 inches from the floor.
Carla's hands were shackled behind her back, her arms painfully bended into 90 degree angles. Her ankles were similarly fastened in steel. A chain ran from her collar to her wrist restraints, holding her soft hands high on her back.
The stone floor was ice cold, contrasting with the blaze she had experienced when marching through the sand. It made her skin crawl and her nipples get erect.
She wriggled piteously, lightly touching the body near her. She twisted her head and saw it was a girl, secured in the same fashion as her. She was very pretty, with dark hair, creamy skin and luscious, full red lips. She was face down, sleeping. The girl was wet, as if she had just taken a shower. Her left thigh was branded, and the mark glowed eerily.
Carla tried to look over her shoulder, letting out a grunt of effort and hurt. Her body was a chaos of pains and stings. Her genitals itched and felt as if burned. Slowly, lust crept into her, as she longed for a penis. She didn't know why, but there seemed to her she now felt a need for sex. She tried to resist it, but it called out to her, a tingling in her lower belly, between her legs, on her breasts.
She had always liked BDSM, loved it really. She found it impossible to get off without being tied or chained, so profound was her fetish. And being restrained with heavy chains, in a small cell, naked, only intensified her libido, almost against her will.
She moaned once more, a bit louder this time, and tried to rub her mound against the floor. It was useless, unsatisfying.
Carla's cringing made her bump into the girl on her right.
-Hey!
The girl was awake now, glaring at Carla with her blue eyes.
-Stop it you stupid whore! – she hissed – when you spend 20 hours each day toiling and being raped down on the Iron Plains you'll learn to appreciate sleep!
Carla flinched, scared at the girl's sudden outburst. If she had been living, Carla would have had her tongue cut off. She had done it herself many times. But they were not on Earth any more, and Carla was afraid of this girl, as she was afraid of everything she had so far seen in Hell.
-I-I'm sorry – she apologized.
This seemed to appease the blue-eyed girl somewhat.
-Bitch... what's your name anyway?
-C-Carla. I am Carla Wells.
-American?
-Yes – Carla answered.
-I'm Marie LaGrange, Belgian.
-How come we understand each other? Do you speak English? – asked Carla.
-No – said Marie – we are speaking in the language of the fallen ones, known by the demons as Firespeech.
Carla noticed Marie had bruises on her arms and sides. On her back, there was the fresh wound of claws. She had little scratches on her face, and her left eye had a purple shade under it. She had been severely abused.
-What did you do to get sent here? – asked Marie.
-I was... I trafficked women...
-Oh really?
Marie's eyes sparkled amusedly.
-Tell me about it – she said.
-Oh, well... I worked with a Russian prostitution ring based in New York. We lured women from third-world Europe and exploited them once they got to America. Others we kidnapped. I was the boss's lover, and his second-in-command...
-Haha! – laughed Marie – one would have never guessed it! You don't look anything like a madam! You look more like a high-class whore!
Carla twisted a little, still under the curse of her lust, her pussy aching for sex.
-So – continued Marie – what about me? Am I good enough? If we were alive, would you kidnap me and make me your slut?
Her eyes spoke of a genuine curiosity, and this frightened Carla. She was serious.
-Yes – she answered – you would be on your back, pleasuring men in a stinky room, handcuffed to a squeaky bed for hours.
-Well, it isn't much different from Hell. Here, when we aren't being violated we are laboring like beasts.
-Oh...
-Yes.
Marie noticed Carla's twitching.
-You better stop that. It only makes it worse.
-Do you feel it too?
-We all feel it down here. It is eternal. There is no appeasing it. Our only release comes from our demon Masters. A resource they use to torture us, and perhaps one of the most effective. You will only feel satisfied when they rape you. And the joy comes at a terrible price. You remember their semen?
-Yes – Carla answered, her skin crawling at the memory of the burning liquid.
-It is a torment. It makes you want to die. And the appeasement of you lust, it lasts for only a few minutes. Soon enough, it comes back, stronger still. Don't worry too much about it. We learn to exist with it.
Carla wondered if she would ever do as Marie said, if she would ever grow accustomed to such a desire. She stared at Marie's bruises, at her red wounds, terrified.
-Don't worry – comforted her Marie – they heal during sleep. Which is why I need to close my eyes now. Tomorrow will be another infernal day. You should sleep too. That will help with the pain.
-They let us sleep?
-Only for a couple of hours. Hush now.
Carla found it difficult, amidst the cold, the burning inside her belly and in her thigh, and the dull pain of the bruises on her own body. She managed it, with effort.
Carla slept, as did Marie, both of them dreamlessly. There are no dreams in Hell. They both awoke to the sound of their steel gate clanging down as it was opened.
A hand gripped Carla's left ankle and pulled her out, dragging her against the stone floor. Her ankle shackles were removed, and she was forced upward into a standing position by her arm.
Her face was slapped, and she tasted blood at her mouth. A thin metal rod hit her belly, drawing the air out of her. She doubled, agonized, trying to scream, and a demon pulled her by the hair back upwards.
The aching between her legs was soon harassing her again, ruthlessly. The pain on her back, however, had disappeared.
She saw the dungeon had been entirely occupied by women, as the demons made them stand single file, in a line facing the door.
Marie was stood just behind Carla.
-Dawn is here pigs! – shouted a fiend – time to work!
There were some fifty or so women on the line, all beautiful, all collared, shackled, and branded.
Carla heard a rustle of chain. She started out in surprise as a long, thick chain wrapped itself around her waist, like a huge steel snake. The chain moved along, floating as if alive, coiling around a woman and then advancing on to the next one, until all of the slaves were joined by their waists, the massive chain binding them in coffle. She couldn't help but marvel at the inherent sensuality of the sight, of beautiful, chained women. The cold links around her nakedness felt good, exciting.
-Walk pig sluts!
A demon stabbed Carla's breast with his trident, laughing at her pain and humiliation.
The line moved forward, out through the open door, escorted by demon masters. Wire whips cracked along the coffle. Carla was struck by one, on her shoulder.
The slaves walked through a dark, black stone corridor, under insults and mockery. They were lead down a tunnel, damp and putrid, as the fallen angels lashed them. One of them grabbed Carla's pussy, sticking his thumb inside, heightening her desire. She moaned:
-Oh... Master...
The demon laughed and squeezed her genitals viciously, drawing a yelp from the slave girl. She was now more desperate than ever! The demon had teased her into a stronger lust. She needed those fingers inside her, fucking her, quelling her sexual thirst.
The girls were marched for an hour, until finally they emerged unto the sunlight, the fortress in the distance.
There was a white sun, the same which Carla had seen the other day, only it seemed much nearer to the ground than what it should have been. Its rays fell down on the girls like strings of hot lead. Carla saw they had been taken to an extensive plain, composed of what seemed to be cooled lava. Its graphite colored surface was filthy, like coal, and soon her feet were black with soot. All over the plains, there were trenches, dug into the black soil. In these trenches, hundreds and hundreds of naked men worked.
Carla saw that they were mining some grayish silver ore, using pickaxes, loading wire baskets with it. There were other girls, other than Carla's group, and they carried these huge baskets of rocks up a hill, were they unloaded the ore into mining carts. These carts were pulled by more naked men.
The women worked in pairs, a couple being chained by the waist.