messaline
Crucified Amazon
Staring into the merciless depths of Ereshkigal's red glowing eyes Abigail briefly regretted her decision to accept the fiendishly diabolical offer of eternal servitude as one of the death goddess Ereshkigal's willing pleasure slaves. Born into the strict Puritan society of Cromwell's England, Abigail was more then willing to accept Ereshkigal's Faustian bargain, to remain young and beautiful for all eternity, her days filled with erotic pleasures beyond her wildest fantasies, all for the price of dying in unrelenting agony night after night, for the rest of eternity, as a willing pleasure slave in Ereshkigal's Mesopotamian Underworld dungeon torture chambers.
Beaten almost daily by her dimwitted aristocratic husband, in his never ending attempt to rid his wife of her disgusting sinful thoughts, Abigail had foolishly believed herself ready to endure the brutally diabolical tortures awaiting her within the Underworld's blood soaked torture chambers. Even now, more then 400 years later, her original naiveté still amazed her. Of course, not that it mattered now. And although in Abigail's case it took several hundred nights of unspeakable agonizing death, Abigail eventually discovered that the ghostly emissaries of the death goddess Ereshkigal only seek out those women already inclined to embrace their darker more submissively masochistic true natures.
Abigail felt her heart quicken as the death goddess selected one of the glowing irons from the coals of the brazier. That sudden, almost overwhelmingly delightful, mixture of thoughts, the utter terror of what it was going to feel like as that red hot iron burned into her tender flesh, coupled with her unspeakably masochistic longing to feel that first sudden onrush of agonizing pain.
In that brief, almost timeless moment of shared intimacy, as she stared into Ereshkigal's glowing eyes, Abigail knew with absolute certainty that the death goddess was enjoying her intoxicating mix of terror and longing almost as much as she was. Abigail just hoped that tonight the death goddess would start with her ample breasts and leave her eyes for last. Not that it would matter in the end, but Abigail discovered long ago that she liked to watch.
The end
