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Bdsm scenes in novels that do not deal with the subject.

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Novel "Conan the buccaneer" where Princess Chabela is suspended from the ceiling and whipped by a black Amazon queen. Here is the fragment ...

Book covers in Spanish and various adaptations to the comic.

conan-el-bucanero-robert-e-howard-D_NQ_NP_992201-MLM27631556907_062018-F.jpg130440314.jpgconan-el-bucanero-robert-e-howard-D_NQ_NP_992201-MLM27631556907_062018-F.jpg130440314.jpg51UW9x7tOiL._SX258_BO1,204,203,200_.jpg


When Chabela leaves the room, powerful black hands grab her and immobilize her.
Before you can scream, they covered his mouth with a piece of thick cloth, which they tied around his
Then they covered her head with a sack. The wrists were tied behind his back with leather straps and
after he was lifted up and carried through winding corridors, and carried down a ladder to
A place she did not know. There they left his hands free, and then fastened them to a ring
copper suspended with a chain from the ceiling. Then they left her alone.
The pain that affected the hands was slowly decreasing as the leather straps
It interrupted the circulation of the blood and left them numb. The girl was hanging on
the silent room, praying that Conan would somehow find out about his situation.

But Conan was also absolutely helpless at the time, lying on
the cushions in the living-dining room. His eyes were closed, his head was thrown back, and he was snoring.
sonorously. Although he had drunk in moderation, a strange lassitude washed over him. Despite of
dream, he had enough strength to suspect that perhaps Nzinga had drugged him. But before
could avoid it, he fell into a sleep so deep that not even an earthquake would have awakened him.
Nzinga narrowed her eyes at him and ordered him out of the room. Then the queen
He stood up and walked through the corridors of his palace until he reached the room where he was.
Chabela hanging from the rings.
Someone took the girl's coat off her head, and then they uncovered her mouth. Chabela
he saw before her the twinkling eyes and wild smile of Nzinga. The white slave screamed terrified. The
Amazon laughed out loud.
-Shout all you want, zingaria with horchata blood. It won't do you any good!
Nzinga stared at the white body hanging on the chain. Then he turned around and chose
a whip between various instruments hanging from the hooks on the wall. The leather whip
hippopotamus cracked on the ground like a snake. Chabela screamed again. The Queen
Nzinga smiled.

-Conan's lips have never excited you as much as this puppy of mine. Not even his hands will have
stroked as this whip will.
"What have I done to you to torment me like this?"
"You have taken Conan's heart from me from the beginning," the queen muttered. I have never met a
man like him. But his arms have pressed against your chest ... I know all that ... and I can't
put up with! Once you are gone, he will return to me. I will make him king of Gamburu ...
dignity that no man has held in a thousand years.
After uttering these words, the queen snapped the whip, testing it in midair.
-Is not true! Chabela complained. It has never touched me!
-You lie! But the kisses of my whip will tear the truth from you!
Nzinga threw his arm back and the whip curled around Chabela's waist. The young woman launched a
scream of pain. The whip left a scarlet footprint, from which a few drops of
blood.
The whip whistled once more, and the slave screamed again in pain as she felt herself hit in the
hips. Nzinga looked at her with a strange expression of pleasure on his beautiful face, while the young woman
It was twisting uselessly. The queen struck again in fury. Her ebony body was covering herself with
sweat. Chabela screamed and the queen laughed out loud, running the tip of her tongue over her lips
parched.
-Shout all you want, damn slave! No one will hear you. And even if he heard you, he couldn't come in your
help. Conan is sleeping soundly and will not wake up for several hours. There is nobody in the
world that can help you!
The queen's ebony face reflected deadly hatred. The Amazon caressed the bleeding body of the
slave with his gaze, while hitting her again and again, caught in a strange frenzy.
Chabela had never imagined that the meat could bear such torment. Weakened by
luxuries of the court, the princess had never felt any kind of pain. To the agony of his flesh he
added the torment of shame. As the only child of an elderly and loving king,
he had done what he wanted, without being stopped. Now his spirit was opening to the
humiliation, in the same way that meat was opened under the whip.
The Zingarian nobility normally used Kushite slaves brought from the south by Stygian merchants and
shemitas. Chabela knew that many times they were punished, either for real or imaginary faults, of the
The same way she was being punished, but she never imagined that someday she
they would reverse the roles and that a black woman would whip her as if she were the last of the slaves of
a zingaria plantation.

While she felt the lashes on her body, Chabela fixed her gaze, through the reddish haze of the
pain, on a shiny object on a small table at the other end of the
room. It was a gold snake-shaped headdress, filled with inlaid gemstones.
Chabela immediately recognized the Crown of the Cobra that Conan had taken from the black temple
of the Nameless Island. He made a powerful effort to focus his attention on the Crown and counter
so the pain of the lashes ...
He vaguely remembered that the Crown had been stolen from Conan in Kulalo ... how long ago?
Centuries seemed to have passed. And how would it have got there? The merchants who had
Captured her and Conan they would have taken it from the black man who stole it from the cimmerian.
Nzinga paused for a moment to take a sip of wine, and immediately picked up the whip again.
to attack once again with terrible sadism. While waiting for the blows, Chabela made an effort
for opening your eyes. Through his tangled hair he contemplated a fantastic scene.
 
In Conan's novel "The Sword of Skelos", a girl is tortured in a warlock's dungeon, and a little later the warrior Isparana seems to also suffer under the same executioner.


índice.jpg

The torches flickered. Its oily smoke added to the sinister grime of the
darkened ceiling beams that linked the stone walls, walls that stood on
a soil of dark packed earth. The victim hung from one of those beams, and his feet
they hardly touched the ground.
The man in the black hood wound the rope several more times, terribly
skinny, around the girl's wrists, and made sure she was well tied
with a relentless tug. The young woman's body shook convulsively, and her feet had
than to try not to lose all contact with the ground. She, very blonde, and young, and
completely naked except for the leather straps, she was panting, and couldn't contain a
long moan. His limbs were so tightly tied that his blood was no longer
hands. The ropes had scratched and wounded her, dug into her arms, and
dolls as they tied her up. There was nothing more than a tickle there anymore, and he couldn't feel
the hands themselves. He wondered in his misery, as if thinking about something alien, if
they would have turned dark red, or purple, or if the skin would already darken.
Curiously, he felt heat in his arms; by having them stretched upwards I would have had
than to feel cold. When he tried to struggle again, he saw that it would be useless. I was tied up, so
helpless she couldn't move in any way. His heels did not reach the ground ... only
could be held on toes. The man in the black hood was tall, and
he had long arms.

Gutural gurgling gushing out, in garish tones, from lips he couldn't close.
They were dry.
Two men in robes looked at her. One of them said:
-Above.
The girl whimpered at the order. I knew what it meant. The ropes that
holding wrists could slide high on a rolled leather wrap
to one of the beams.
The man in the black hood pulled it up until his feet couldn't reach the
I usually. The girl's moan was horrifying. The two men watched her in silence,
and the torches flickered. The one with the black hood began to raise and lower the rope and his
weight, as if a large bell had been ringing. His huge belly was strained to
cause of effort.
As he went up and down, the victim began to whine repeatedly, and it seemed to him that
his ribs wanted to get out of his meat. They were flogging his body
time that this one, sore, without strength, turned and rocked like a pendulum. The
drenched the sweat. He groaned with each of the painful puffs of breath that
blurted out.
-Speaks!
The girl heard that voice; she was whining, and tears were running down her
cheeks, and did not want to speak.
"I see no reason to keep spanking her." Bring the hot irons.
"N-no ..." she murmured, and her head hung limp.
The man in the black hood tied the end of the rope in such a way that the
girl could only reach the ground of rammed earth with the fingertips of
the feet. He removed a gauntlet from his belt. He put it on as he approached the
brazier: an evil, black object crouched on its six feet, whose head burned.
The wooden handles of two thin black iron bars protruded from it. Coat
a. Its tip gleamed white glow. It was turning yellow as the man returned, without

67
in a hurry, with his victim, and she saw him coming with wide eyes. Again he muttered
"No" with his little voice, and the man raised the iron.
The two wearing robes watched as he held the iron firmly, without
hesitations, against the girl's body, which writhed and trembled convulsively,
full of apprehension and horror. She screeched, violently shaking her
head back and forth, and new sweat gleamed and drenched her. The men of
the robes heard how it crackled vividly and how the scorched meat smelled.
-Enough.
The man in the hood removed the iron. His victim was panting, moaning, and smelling his own
burned skin. Sweat drenched her and darkened her hair.
-Speaks!
The girl swallowed repeatedly, and sighed, and whimpered, and gasped.
-Again!
The man in the black hood stepped forward, and the young woman felt the iron approach her.
glowing.

--------------

"I am a Cimmerian, damnation, a Cimmerian," said Conan, and released her, as he admired
silently its value. They had done things to him, and none had been pleasant. These
ragged, 'sparana, my love ... although, I swear, even full of welts and
filthy, and with that burn, naked you are more beautiful than ten other women.
She sat with her meager strength, grimacing, rubbing her
wrists that the rope had wound.
"That chubby pig had wine and food on top of the pallet," he said. With how much
sweetness you speak, beloved, to a poor girl, sweet, innocent, that you abandoned in a
inn with Akter Khan's pigs and dogs. Oh ... Conan ... I'm sorry, but I think
I'm going to pass out ...
 

Jon Smithie

Governor
Great scene! I was never a huge fan of Conan (either the Talk Show Host or the Cimmerian) but I'll have to check out this particular volume. You've also nudged a memory of mine from readings long past. I can't remember if it was a Conan or a Gor novel, but there was a scene that was so hot, I'll just have to find it and share it. I may have to visit my Regression Therapist. Must remember . . .
 

KurvyKate

Assistant executioner
We are not perverts. We are people with a well-developed imagination!

We are people for whom life is enhanced by an extra layer of consciousness, a thinking above and beyond the inhibitions of real life and the ability to see the importance of that as release, fulfilment and necessary.

Sorry I'm playing with the CF buttons in order to discover how it all works!
 
In Conan's novel The Winner, from Robert E. Howard's continuators, a ritual sacrifice to a demon requires girls to be flogged with a whip. Conan's partner in this adventure, the bandit Karela suffers this torment, before being rescued.

índice.jpg


"Perhaps not," Taramenón replied calmly, "although the last time you said you had men

stationed around this cabin I saw no one. In any case, I just have to yell for fifty men to come

armed. Do you want us to see if your miserable outlaws can handle them?

"Enough, Taramenón," said the veiled woman. Don't waste words with that slut. We should

strip her. He looked at Karela's tight breeches and baggy jerkin; a certain note of malicious rejoicing was made

notice in her voice. I have to make sure it's not ... excessively skinny.

Taramenón laughed, and the three men set to work willingly. Karela was struggling furiously

and when they were done with it, blood remained on her nails and teeth; However, she was naked, and her

thick, opulent breasts shook to the rhythm of her struggles. The libidinous gazes of the men searched her

Beauty, they slid down the curves of her lush hips and slim figure. Dark eyes looked at her with

more cold and with a flash of feminine jealousy. Proud, the green-eyed woman stood as straight as

she could when they forced her to put her arms behind her back. She didn't want to shrink like a shy girl in her

wedding night, and even less in front of them.

--------

Karela swallowed hard, and remembered once again how dry her throat was. If I could

speak, he would have told Sinelle to stay with Conan. I would lie - because I did not want to move away from the

Cimmerian for that light-haired harlot who called herself madam — but at the time she couldn't bring herself to

another thing.

Sinelle shook her head, and the four women in iron belts pulled out leather straps.

Karela, against her own will, struggled to free herself from the bonds. If I had had a dagger, or a single hand

free, or if their tongue could have screamed a challenge ...

"Listen to me, wench," said Sinelle. These women are going to prepare you. If you resist, they will hit you, but in

In any case they will do what I have ordered. I would like to have you with as few marks on the body as possible, so if

you want to submit, lower your head.

Karela tried to scream, despite her gag. Undergo! Did that stupid girl think she was going to be scared by her

threats like a weak girl? His green eyes turned to her with silent fury.

Suddenly Sinelle stepped forward, put one foot on Karela's knees, which were tied under her chin, pulled

from her until she had her back to the ground and held her there.

"Then try the whip." Hit him hard.

The other women stepped forward, their leather straps wounding Karela below her bound knees; you

The blows rained down on the defenseless buttocks, which were stiff from her position.

Karela's green eyes seemed to jump out of their sockets, and for a moment the bandit was grateful that the

gag stop him from screaming; Then, she began to nod frantically with her head. For Derketo! It was useless

to be whipped while lying there tied like a pig to the market.

Sinelle ordered the women to move away.
"I was sure you would be reasonable."
Karela tried to look into the dark eyes that watched her from above, then closed her own, humiliated.
It was clear from the way Sinelle looked at her that she had never doubted that the redhead
she would eventually give up. Karela prayed that she would be released, so that she could teach them what a plea ripped with
whips.

........

The whip hurt Karela again in the shoulders, and the bandit clenched her teeth so that no one escaped her.
howl. She was tied between two posts topped with the obscene image of Al'Kiir, on her knees, and all the veils of fine
Blue silk, save the last one, had been ripped from her sweaty body. What could make her scream was not the incessant
bite of the leather, not only; she would have died before giving that satisfaction to her torturers. But the
scorching purple marks that crisscrossed her body seemed like little pins,.
Compared to the burning desire that had ignited inside her after Sinelle anointed her with his
ointment. Karela squirmed without self-control and wept with humiliation.


The flattened-haired aristocrat danced in front of her with fluid sinuousness, singing words that hardly
if they were heard to the rhythm of the haunted flutes and the sheathed swords that beat on the floor of the vaulted
cavern. Between Sinelle and Karela stood the statuette that Conan had stolen, but her wickedness remained
diminished in the face of the wave of horror that radiated from the gigantic and bloody image that dominated the room.
Three black eyes that seemed to swallow the light subdued Karela. The woman tried to look away from those eyes
from hell, she begged to have the strength to do it, but, like a bird hypnotized by a snake, she lacked.
Will.
The scourges struck again and again. Karela's hands, still tied, were trembling from the efforts that
the woman was doing not to scream, because the demonic scarlet figure was vibrating, and produced a hum that
mixed with flutes and ripped the core of her femininity. Conan, she screamed silently, where are you?
 
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From this novel, as from the previous one, I have not been able to find the corresponding fragments. Sorry. But of the last one I will try to give you a description of the torture to which a girl is subjected in her. The novel is called "Vic, Terrorists Wanted."

Totally naked, the girl is totally immobilized, by leather straps tightly tied around her entire body. By cutting off the circulation of her limbs, the girl is forced to kneel on top of a thick wooden ruler with fine edges. Also known as "the horse", but this time both the girl and the position she is in, all tucked into a room so narrow that she can barely move. But the walls of the room are full of sharp stakes or needles. The young woman must be very straight and upright, and not move: when doing it to either side, the spikes hurt her. And sooner or later fatigue appears in the young woman, and when that happens ...
The wounds are not very deep, based on multiplying ...

51BKUSZ2vRL._SX332_BO1,204,203,200_.jpg
 

minyoo

Assistant executioner
:) For example, O's story will not be included here, but romantic novels. All the novels contain scenes considered Bdsm.

First example: Yael's "Orovida" novel from Yael Guiladi . In it the protagonist, a Jewess named Orovida and her sister suffer torture by the inquisition. Orovida is raped, humiliated, and flogged tied to a pole. And later they kill her by hanging her.



The cover book.View attachment 857085
I can't seem to find an English version of it. Does not it exist? :(
 

minyoo

Assistant executioner
I can only think up a single such instance for now, but it's not in English and I doubt that the text is anywhere on the internet.

The novel is depicting a story from the Korean War, or probably the aftermath of it. The protagonist was a school girl who got arrested for collaborating with the communists, if I recall correctly. During the time the North Koreans seized the control, they taught propaganda songs to students and mobilized them for various tasks to help their cause. After they got forced to withdraw, however, many of those who have "helped" the communists in this way were arrested by the South Korean authorities and sometimes even executed for that.

The story depicts a scene where the protagonist was interrogated by the police. When she protested that all she had done was just singing and dancing to propaganda songs as it was required of her, the investigator stripped her naked and forced her to perform it in front of other men in the police station.

I read the novel when I was young when I didn't even know what "BDSM" is, but the scene left me lasting enough an impression that I still remember it to this day.

EDIT: I got reminded of another such example after I wrote the above comment. It is from a writer whom I once admired but somehow became a political hooligan over the years. The novel was her debut work and it contained a scene where female students got arrested for participating in an anti-government rally. The policemen made them kneel on the floor and grabbed a dripping mop (with a long handle, which you use to clean the floor) then shoved it under the girls' T-shirts to rub their breasts with it.
Wht's the title of that book??
 

fallenmystic

Governor
Wht's the title of that book??
Sorry, I cannot recall the title of the first book that I mentioned, or name of the author now. I will certainly tell you if I happen to be reminded of it later.

Fortunately, I remember a bit more of the second story, which I believe to be 공지영’s submission to 창작과 비평. If I recall correctly, the title was something like “동트는 새벽” and it was her debut work as a novelist.

I still remember the story because it felt more like a political pamphlet than a piece of literature, giving a stark contrast to her subsequent book “무소의 뿔처럼 혼자서 가라,” which is not only substantially longer but also much more mature in its contents.

I liked that novel quite much when I was young, so it makes me rather sad to see what she has become over the years.
 

minyoo

Assistant executioner
Sorry, I cannot recall the title of the first book that I mentioned, or name of the author now. I will certainly tell you if I happen to be reminded of it later.

Fortunately, I remember a bit more of the second story, which I believe to be 공지영’s submission to 창작과 비평. If I recall correctly, the title was something like “동트는 새벽” and it was her debut work as a novelist.

I still remember the story because it felt more like a political pamphlet than a piece of literature, giving a stark contrast to her subsequent book “무소의 뿔처럼 혼자서 가라,” which is not only substantially longer but also much more mature in its contents.

I liked that novel quite much when I was young, so it makes me rather sad to see what she has become over the years.
Oh, cool so that I can probably look up the latter on the internet. Right?
Yeah, I feel similar about 공지영. I agree that her works used to be real pieces of literature, but now she is just.. being political all the time.

So the first book was probably published when you were young... Do you remember what year? Every hint will help, because the description sounds so tasty.
 

fallenmystic

Governor
Oh, cool so that I can probably look up the latter on the internet. Right?
Yeah, I feel similar about 공지영. I agree that her works used to be real pieces of literature, but now she is just.. being political all the time.

So the first book was probably published when you were young... Do you remember what year? Every hint will help, because the description sounds so tasty.
I knew those stories are something you would love :)

I'm sorry but I can't remember anything about the first story, for the life of me. I don't even know in what year it was published, but if you are desperate I suppose you may assume it was written from a personal experience (either direct or indirect) and try searching up those female novelists who might have been a school girl during the war period. Probably 박완서 could be too old, and 오정희 too young to match the criteria, so if it was indeed a personal memoire, it could be written by someone between their age gap.

Honestly, I doubt it would be worth the effort however, as it was a very brief scene as I recall. It's like those few female interrogation scenes depicted in 태백산맥, for instance, in which things like a vaginal torture is implied but never described in detail.

Actually, I tried to search it over the internet myself just now without avail. But I managed to find a blog where the full text of 동트는 새벽 is included, so I'll send the excerp via a private message to you.

On a side note, searching up for such novels and their authors has reminded me of good memories. When I was young, I used to read all those great novels and now I became older... well, let's just say that the heroines those stories I read nowadays tend to end up getting whipped somehow :p
 

minyoo

Assistant executioner
I knew those stories are something you would love :)

I'm sorry but I can't remember anything about the first story, for the life of me. I don't even know in what year it was published, but if you are desperate I suppose you may assume it was written from a personal experience (either direct or indirect) and try searching up those female novelists who might have been a school girl during the war period. Probably 박완서 could be too old, and 오정희 too young to match the criteria, so if it was indeed a personal memoire, it could be written by someone between their age gap.

Honestly, I doubt it would be worth the effort however, as it was a very brief scene as I recall. It's like those few female interrogation scenes depicted in 태백산맥, for instance, in which things like a vaginal torture is implied but never described in detail.

Actually, I tried to search it over the internet myself just now without avail. But I managed to find a blog where the full text of 동트는 새벽 is included, so I'll send the excerp via a private message to you.

On a side note, searching up for such novels and their authors has reminded me of good memories. When I was young, I used to read all those great novels and now I became older... well, let's just say that the heroines those stories I read nowadays tend to end up getting whipped somehow :p
Thank you very much.

I am a big fan of 박완서 though. Maybe it's time that I look up something in her writings.
 
Put them back, I tell you — with a red face, and looking at him
Killing Conan, Karela took the required stance.
The plump man was smiling happily, as if he had been a student
favorite.
"I don't know," Conan said slowly.
Karela looked at him, frowning, and the dealer suddenly looked over his eyes.
thoughtful the tattered and tattered clothes of the cimmerian. The plump man opened the
mouth to say something, but a second glance at Conan's broad backs and
length of his sword made him modify the intended words.
"By the way, the girl is very new, and it will be cheap." I keep my reputation
not selling anything without informing the customer of everything they need to know. Only makes two
days I have this girl, and she's tried to escape twice already, and once
it was almost done with a guard's sword.
Conan was looking at Karela out of the corner of his eye. Hearing that, he straightened up.
proud, almost taking the pose that the dealer had ordered.
"Then again, that was all the first day." Karela's cheeks were covered
now blushing. A few lashes well given, the second time stronger and
for longer than the first, and since then has been a model - the face
de Karela reached for the bright scarlet. But I thought I should tell you what
good and bad.
"I appreciate it," said Conan, "what did you have in store for her in Sultanapur?"
Hearing that, Karela's green eyes searched his face.

índice.jpg
 
Another novel by Conan. This time Conan the defiler, by Leonard Carpenter. As I do not have the fragment this time, if I pass the description of what happens.


51m9Dy5e47L._SY264_BO1,204,203,200_QL40_.jpg

A young princess rebels against her queen and stepmother with Conan's help. In one scene the young princess is chained with gold chains to a large sarcophagus. In ragged clothes she is displayed in a parade, then chained to the huge sarcophagus, in the crypt the wicked queen whips her with a whip a few times.
 

Premis

Condemned
The Whore (not sure about the English title, originally in German) by Iny Lorentz

In 15th century Germany, a rich merchant's daughter is accused of prostitution in a ploy to steal her and her father's wealth. She's arrested, raped in custody and whipped nearly to death before being chased out of the city before being by actual prostitute who takes her as an understudy.
 
The Whore (not sure about the English title, originally in German) by Iny Lorentz

In 15th century Germany, a rich merchant's daughter is accused of prostitution in a ploy to steal her and her father's wealth. She's arrested, raped in custody and whipped nearly to death before being chased out of the city before being by actual prostitute who takes her as an understudy.
Thanks for your contribution. I like that you send me your books like this too. I did not know this book, thank you.
 

minyoo

Assistant executioner
Some others excerpts (few days and 50 pages BEFORE the previous ones)

The prisoner beheld, all about the room, frightful instruments whose use she did not understand. In the centre lay a leather mattress, placed almost flat upon the ground, over which hung a strap provided with a buckle, attached to a brass ring in the mouth of a flat-nosed monster carved in the keystone of the vault. Tongs, pincers, large ploughshares, filled the interior of the furnace, and glowed in a confused heap on the coals. The sanguine light of the furnace illuminated in the chamber only a confused mass of horrible things.
[...]
At a sign from Charmolue, the two assistants took her and placed her in a sitting posture on the bed. They did her no harm; but when these men touched her, when that leather touched her, she felt all her blood retreat to her heart. She cast a frightened look around the chamber. It seemed to her as though she beheld advancing from all quarters towards her, with the intention of crawling up her body and biting and pinching her, all those hideous implements of torture, which as compared to the instruments of all sorts she had hitherto seen, were like what bats, centipedes, and spiders are among insects and birds.
She shuddered.
“Mademoiselle,” resumed the caressing voice of the procucrator of the Ecclesiastical court, “for the third time, do you persist in denying the deeds of which you are accused?”
This time she could only make a sign with her head.
“You persist?” said Jacques Charmolue. “Then it grieves me deeply, but I must fulfil my office.”
“Monsieur le Procureur du Roi,” said Pierrat abruptly, “How shall we begin?”
Charmolue hesitated for a moment with the ambiguous grimace of a poet in search of a rhyme.
“With the boot,” he said at last.

The tormentor and the physician approached her simultaneously. At the same time, the two assistants began to fumble among their hideous arsenal.

At the clanking of their frightful irons, the unhappy child quivered like a dead frog which is being galvanized. Then she fell back once more into her immobility and her marble silence.
[...]
Meanwhile, the callous hands of Pierrat Torterue’s assistants had bared that charming leg, that tiny foot, which had so often amazed the passers-by with their delicacy and beauty, in the squares of Paris.
“’Tis a shame!” muttered the tormentor, glancing at these graceful and delicate forms.
Had the archdeacon been present, he certainly would have recalled at that moment his symbol of the spider and the fly.
Soon the unfortunate girl, through a mist which spread before her eyes, beheld the boot approach; she soon beheld her foot encased between iron plates disappear in the frightful apparatus. Then terror restored her strength.
“Take that off!” she cried angrily; and drawing herself up, with her hair all dishevelled: “Mercy!”
She darted from the bed to fling herself at the feet of the king’s procurator, but her leg was fast in the heavy block of oak and iron, and she sank down upon the boot, more crushed than a bee with a lump of lead on its wing.
At a sign from Charmolue, she was replaced on the bed, and two coarse hands adjusted to her delicate waist the strap which hung from the ceiling.
“For the last time, do you confess the facts in the case?” demanded Charmolue, with his imperturbable benignity.
“I am innocent.”
“Then, mademoiselle, how do you explain the circumstance laid to your charge?”
“Alas, monseigneur, I do not know.”
“So you deny them?”
“All!”
“Proceed,” said Charmolue to Pierrat.
Pierrat turned the handle of the screw-jack, the boot was contracted, and the unhappy girl uttered one of those horrible cries which have no orthography in any human language.
“Stop!” said Charmolue to Pierrat. “Do you confess?” he said to the gypsy.
“All!” cried the wretched girl. “I confess! I confess! Mercy!”
She had not calculated her strength when she faced the torture. Poor child, whose life up to that time had been so joyous, so pleasant, so sweet, the first pain had conquered her!
The actual hanging scene is really hot, too!
 
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