The following totally fictitious writings of Faibhar are intended for the sole
readership of those of LEGAL AGE. The ADULT ONLY material contained within is
also for personal use only where local standards permit scenes of extreme
violence, torture, sex and crucifixion. Please do not read further if any of
these subjects offend, or if you are not of legal age.
"Macrobdella Decora" constitutes PART THREE of The Accidental Surgeon.
Your sole enjoyment and cooperation in not using this story in any other
application without the express permission of the author is requested.
Thank you.
Faibhar
The Accidental Surgeon
Part THREE
Macrobdella Decora
Muffled conversation, the occasional rustle of a passing slave and
Soporanus's fidgeting over his tray of surgical appliances softly sounded in a
stilled chamber. Facing the men seated on the bench stood a female clad only in
a skirt revealing naked legs forming a triangle with the floor and arms pointing
toward the ceiling. A nearly solid stack of iron rods rose above swollen
mammaries barely distinguishable by color from their background. Two small rings
dully glinted from atop her pinned chest. Along the wall a throat coughed from
one of the seated men and he asked, "Is she dead?"
Soporanus stopped what he was doing and wiped his face on his already
stained sleeve. Stooped over the table his gray mouth twisted in
acknowledgement. Phlegm choked his throat. Clearing it he said, "Oh no. Just
watch this." The practicing, but hardly perfect, surgeon wannabe selected from
his array of specialized tools and picked a favorite: his acutus, or sharp hook.
Stepping around to wall conduits winding through a macabre ornamentation lining
the doorway he approached the unconscious form from the rear, noting that even
in this suspension the hour-glass form was neither a conceit nor the trickery of
some tailor. Using the acutus Soporanus viciously raked a shallow slice from the
top of one shoulder, across the spine, past the elongated torso onto the flare
of the opposite hip.
The effect proved spontaneous. All awakened at Katana's startled alarm.
The void arose immediately in front of her face. A creak of light parted
near the top. Her head throbbed and chest felt numb. All Katana could remember
was the weight of three bars inexorably pressing down and then mightily fighting
to lift them with her arms and back muscles. Maybe it had been four bars, or
five or even six before she lost count, power to lift failing, arms stretching
higher, feeling like they would dislocate. A sea of lost consciousness then
engulfed. She actually preferred the gulf of that unconsciousness but the good
news now was that the lighted part she saw between the upper bars widened.
Someone was lifting them.
Her head fell back. Golden rays no longer streamed in from the ceiling.
A dusky sky filled the grating once aglow with sunlight. A slave lifted up and
away the final bar. She could make out Soporanus hovering around and the seated
men. Faces now showed in firelight from lit torches. The faces appeared callous,
heedless of her plight, intent only on witnessing more of her suffering.
"These could use some massaging to get the feeling back." The flesh
remained supple, however discolored in Soporanus's grasp. His fingers molded and
plied the firm warmth. He peered closely at Katana. No more beauty laurels for
her... Her features were more asymmetrical now: the cut cheek slightly swollen;
swelling across her forehead were she apparently banged her head growing; paler
lips now devoid of the fullness and color; once breathtaking golden hair now a
tangled mess of lank strands. He continued his particular brand of hands-on
therapy with the soft mound and then included its twin. A more natural skin
color gradually returned to both. Ringed nipples scrubbed his palms.
"I mentioned your crucifixion tomorrow out in the open for all to see,
but our private little group here still has more chances today for you to prove
how well you handle pain. Keep in mind, we expect and respect a high degree of
tolerance befitting one who leads. Why, even our lowliest gladiators are
expected to ignore a finger scratch," he leered up at her blood-shot eyes, "or
whatever." Soporanus swung a final slap that snapped across both tits and said,
"She's ready. Bring it."
Katana tried to pull back, but her arms felt so weak. She had to keep in
mind what she had been taught about fortitude and stamina regardless of physical
weakness. Once the stack of bars were lifted away her arms no longer shot up
straight but again bent at the elbows. Despite their new leverage though the
power did not return. Another scraping noise, this time more wooden sounding
than the noise made by the terrible metal shaft, came from behind. Afraid to
look she started, gradually loosing a sigh of relief when she felt her body
slightly lifted and supported to be seated on the table's edge. A cup of water
appeared. She eagerly gulped, splashing as she drank, feeling somewhat restored
as a trickle of the cool water escaped and dribbled down her chest. Her arms may
be sapped of strength, but a tingling sensation in her chest meant that her
breasts were still there. Quenching her thirst was a small pleasure not to be
missed, especially now that her tolerance was so deliberately tested.
Soporanus appeared holding up his scalpel. "I imagine that it feels good
to be free of those bars. You probably like sitting on that table and having a
drink of water too." Katana felt once more like spitting into his smug face but
decided not to. "But you do realize that this," he said lifting up a leather
plait from her skirt damp from the spillage, "has got to go." The blade shook in
his trembling gray fingers as it slid between her lower stomach and the narrow
waistband. The sawing and slicing around her small waist began.
Ankles locked to wrists forced Katana further back on her spine. The cut
across her back scraped the table's wood. The obscenity of her pose was enough
to contemplate but the shock of the cream applied to her mound caused her to
look anyway. Brown slave fingers applied the white lather between her splayed
thighs. The same fingers used a diminutive razor to shave away pubic hair
leaving bright wakes of pale skin. Soporanus appeared alongside the head of
Katana showing her his small pair of forceps and a curious circle. "This ring is
larger than the ones already in your nipples. See these tiny beads? Guess where
it goes." The scabrous pate with scattered gray wisps lowered. Her head fell
back to rest on the table. The forceps pulling out her clitoris made her wince.
Brilliant shots of colors flashed. She turned her head and gasped as it was
pierced.
"We call this a speculum magnum matrices." Katana blinked up at the
construction of bronze strips with a turning knob at one end of a long screw
separating the strips. "It's really for your own good," Soporanus chortled as he
moved away along the tableside. Katana cringed as she felt her labia further
opened and the tool inserted. Thoughts of stamina and bravery flashed by. More
colored lightening exploded in her mind's eye. Despite the pain she needed to be
strong.
Soporanus gave all his might but could turn the screw no more. Holding
the inserted speculum as steady as he could he motioned for a waiting slave to
ladle warm honey into the gaping orifice. Viscous overflow seeped out. Once the
slave finished, Soporanus withdrew the tool. "It appears that you are all set
for our next challenge to see how well you accept pain." He let the beaded
piercing rest back upon the labia.
Gnarled fingers curled around one bare leg's smoothness. The back of the
same ring that had cut her cheek felt cool to Katana. "This one has shown
impressive courage in tolerating pain. Now its time to take things up
to...another level." Soporanus looked down at Katana and said not unlike an
arena announcer, "Meet the Actium twins!
The two brothers at the far end of the bench rose. Like one, they
removed their short tunics displaying Herculean bodies with massive jutting
erections.
A screech of wood against stone sounded. Katana felt the table she was
on jerk suddenly away. With nothing below she dropped slightly. Her sole support
rattled. Arm and hip sockets felt ready to pop. She opened her mouth to issue a
loud scream just as the unbearable pressure in her limbs eased by hands lifting
her ass. Katana's body tilted slightly as it rose. A warm meaty mass she
instantly recognized as male covered her forehead. She felt the clit ring beads
rub deeper and then a heavy hardness plunge. The thickness filling her seemed to
retreat as fingers near her face pried apart her jaws. Her mouth filled with
another enormous solid.
The pot-bellied patrician friend, a tribune invited along for the show
and the stooped figure of Soporanus watched from the wall as the Actium twins,
the slickness of their muscled bodies flexing with each thrust, found a rhythm.
Between the two rocked the hapless female. Rattling chains, various grunts and
the fleshy noises of liquids sloshing to and fro were the only other sounds in
the chamber. The room's stifling atmosphere seemed to increase with every thrust
and parry of the subjects dancing in syncopation to a bizarre eroticism.
A new and different heat pounded through Katana. Despite her suspension,
she felt her body reacting to the raw sex. Release would feel good. The heavy
balls rolling over her eyes made seeing problematic. She nonetheless sucked
harder. If she could not see, at least she could feel the bodies increase their
excitement, an excitement that made her own thrill charge.
Her desperate appeal for release from such ironic sources suddenly
halted. Katana caught a fleeting glimpse of a heavily muscled torso leaving.
Frustration mounted until she saw what appeared to be the same torso return.
Anticipating more, Katana eagerly ate the fat cock in her mouth, but its taste
had changed. The new flavor now mixed with her own. The two males had switched.
The clanging increased until first one, and then the other Adonis froze
in ecstatic poses. Grunts grew massive with final thrusts. Only the sounds of
heavy breathing followed. In the stifling moment, Soporanus gargled his
congested throat and motioned for slaves to pull up on the chains. The panting
female swung over a large tub. He supervised as she was lowered into the heated
water, turning his back only to lift a shallow pan from the table that held his
surgery gear.
Katana felt the urge to orgasm pulsate. The warm water soothed. The
bottom supported much like the table had. All but the base of her neck upwards
was underwater. The tops of swollen breasts bobbed just under the surface.
Soaked ends of hair fanned across the dark surface. Gism slid from corners but
she knew it hopeless to attempt to wipe her mouth clean. Soporanus appeared at
the great tub's edge. In his unsteady hands the accidental surgeon held a deep
dish also filled with water. Slithering in the dish were small thin bodies.
"They are Marobdella decora. Frisky when hungry, aren't they?" The pan
shook in Soporanus's quavering grip. "Or many just call them leeches. They won't
hurt much when they suck your blood and someday may even be used in medicine,
you just never know." Katana's revulsion sent shudders through her entire body.
Underarms barely skimming the surface of the tub's water jerked and sprayed, but
there was no escaping. Her eyes widened as the squirming creatures left the
tilted pan to join her in the tub. "They bounce around when hungry like these,"
the living gargoyle said as he emptied the pan into the tub, "until they seek
out warm bodies...like yours."
Night fell as Soporanus separated all but the last of the leeches from
the trussed female using one of his surgically sharp hooks to pry them from the
living flesh. Where other Marobdella decora had sucked was obvious by the small
red rings left by teeth marks and the flow of blood trails. He came to the
last-its bloated spotted shape stuck to the back of an upper thigh. As quickly
as it fell away, he clamped over the wound a bronze cupping vessel, or
cucurbitulae.
Filling the cup, he placed it to Katana's lips. Pinching her nose he
tilted the blood-filled cup allowing most of its contents to drain into her
mouth. With speed and strength belying his age the accidental surgeon closed her
lower jaw still keeping her nose pinched and thereby forcing her to swallow.
"Drink and then you may retire for the night as you have a very, very big day
tomorrow."
