Ponder carefully what to say.

The Akkadian ponders what would be the best answer to give Trimon. Unfortunately, the warlord isn't a patient man. "Won't speak Minaja? Fine, maybe the lash will loosen your tongue." Turning around to the man in the worn scribe's robe, Trimon commands. "Give each these cunts the whip, then come a get me and we will see if they will be more talkative." Trimon walks out followed by his two guards. The robe clad man, who is clearly the chief torturer, looks up at the naked bound intruders with a sadistic excitement as if all his fantasies have just come true.

Akkadian knows that the bull whip is going hurt, and hurt a lot. Al Areth judges usually sentence criminals to be whipped by increments of twelve. Minor offenders get twelve, and then progress to twenty-four, thirty-six and finally forty-eight for the worse criminals. Early in his career the Akkadian suffered twenty-four at the sentence of the judges for breaking into a nobleman?s house. The whipping didn't break him, but at the time he doubted he could take any more.

"I think thirty-six is a fair number, considering you assaulted and tried to steal from my lord." The robe man informs his prisoners. The Akkadian takes the news is silence, though his friend mutters, "That' so many." under her breath.

The Akkadian realizes that his mind is now more seasoned and hardened by years of combat, and believes he can withstand the torturer's sentence. He is concerned, however that his new body will make it more difficult. Coldly he muses that it should be an interesting test - what is more important to endure pain; the willpower of the mind or the constitution of the body? Looking over at Naerwyn, he sees her steeling herself preparing for what is to come. The assassin wonders if the buxom rogue has ever felt the cruel sting of the leather before.

"Get my viewing chair Oda." The torturer orders. Silently, the Nubian gets a large wooden backed chair and places it several feet in front of the women for the best possible view. "And some wine." He commands again. Obediently, the dark skinned man pours a cup of wine and places it on the wide arm rest of the chair. Taking a small hand towel for the western table he goes over and sits down. With his right hand he grasps the cup of wine and takes a drink. The left hand holding the towel disappears like a snake going into a hole as he withdraws it into the large sleeve. Clearly his is going to pleasure himself as the two comely captives are whipped.

"Oda, the whip. Go back and forth between these two." Oda bows and takes a thick bull whip from the table. The Nubian, a large muscular man, swings the whip threw the air a few times practicing its feel, while demonstrating great skill in the implement's use. When finished he takes position behind the women.

"Begin with the tall one." The seated torturer orders, as the movement in the robe's cloth covering his loins signals he is already enjoying the show. Naerwyn grabs the chains with her hands, her arms tensing has she tugs on her restrains, thus simultaneously preparing herself and trying a **** attempt of escape.

The bounds hold as the lash explodes against the middle of the busty thief's back. The loud "THWACK" is quickly followed by a scream as Naerwyn's body jumps causing her tits to bounce violently. The Akkadian doubts the rogue will last for all the thirty-six with such a first reaction.

The Nubian waits as the torturer stares intently at Naerwyn's face and breasts. Delighting in the look of exquisite pain and humiliation in her eyes and equally pleased by how her massive breasts wonderfully sway back and forth. Only when the thief begins to calm does his glaze turn to the Akkadian.

Unlike the thief, the assassin relaxes his muscles willing to accept the lash. Calming and steadying his breathing he makes not a sound as the whip strikes him for the first time. The torturer just watches intently studying the Akkadian. He then looks back at the thief, who gives a faint gasp, knowing it is her turn again. This time she doesnt scream but gives out a loud painful groan, her chains clanging as her body jumps again by at assistance of the lash.

The two buxom beauties endure the first third of their sentence the way they began. The Akkadian is able to stoically endure the whipping, only giving out a few faint grunts and a brief sway when the leather strikes his back. His large chested companion is not so lucky, as her body is brought more and more under the cruel domination of the lash. She doesn't shed a tear or begs, but with each kiss of the leather her moans, groans and cries become louder as her body jerks about ever more violently as it is **** to dance to the whip's insistent cadence, to the accompaniment of her rattling chains.

With the twelfth lash on the Akkadian's back he is **** to give a muffled "damn" as the pain is growing. With one third of the way into their sentence the torturer raises his hand to have Oda hold the lash for a bit.

"Tell me ladies." He inquires. "How does it feel to be whipped? If your answer pleases me, I might show some mercy."