The sacrifice?

Phoebe woke up with a loving kiss on her lips, her throat, her chest, she said, stretching.

• Oh yes, it's so good, I want that every morning.

Her lover smiled at her and said, after caressing her cheek with the back of his hand.

• My dear, the master asks to reunite us. The end of the Sabbath is approaching. Whatever happens, I love you. Perhaps the master will allow us to see each other again.

Phoebe had found in Sybelle not a sister but a mistress who, in this moment that alternated between the most **** sweetness and suffering, like others, held hands as they arrived at the heart of the stone circles.

The master stood in the center.

• My dear faithful, half of you will suffer the worst torments while the other the most divine pleasures. I will call you in pairs and tell me who will suffer what. Phoebe and Sybelle looked at each other, fearing more for the other than for herself. Phoebe demanded to endure the torment. She couldn't bear to see her suffer, despite what she had already endured so much.

When it was Phoebe's turn, and while she was about to volunteer, Sybelle was quicker and volunteered to be the one to be tormented. Phoebe was about to protest when the master silenced them.

• Since you are unable to decide between you, you will suffer together. Neither of you will escape and will see the other suffer more and more, or even be **** to make the other suffer what you are ordered to do to them.

When the selection was over,

• Take these two fools, they will be the couple who will give the others the lead.

Two orcs led them roughly to the highest portico of the stone circle. They were tied facing each other after having a ball gag placed in their mouths. They were still naked. Their hands were spread apart by leather straps with chains attached to pulleys on the stone lintel, while their feet were spread and stretched to the maximum. Any more, they would have been torn apart alive.

The orcs placed a dildo on a spike and positioned it at the entrance to Phoebe's sex, and Sybelle's master pronounced a spell that made the dildo rise and fall at a brutal, jerky pace, only stopping when it struck the deepest part of their sex. Provoking gasps and small cries muffled by the ball gags, the master signaled to two orcs, who positioned themselves, one behind Phoebe and the other behind Sybelle, while deploying whips that multiplied the pain but spared the flesh.

The whips fell simultaneously, tearing the air before cruelly lashing their flesh. Phoebe and Sybelle arched their backs, their cries muffled by the gags, mingling with the sharp snap of the leather against their skin. The blows fell in rhythm, each bite of the whip leaving a burning sensation that spread like fire beneath their skin.

The straps stinged again, marking their backs with scarlet streaks as the mechanical dildos relentlessly penetrated them. Sybelle rolled her eyes, pain and pleasure mingling in a burning wave that twisted her stomach. Phoebe, her fingers clenched on the chains, felt a tear roll down her cheek—not from her own pain, but from seeing Sybelle's body convulse under the blows.

Their futile attempts to avoid the whippings provoked the cruel shocks of the dildos into their private parts. The orcs delighted in this infernal jig, which, in addition to the pain, caused humiliation for their victims.

The whip came down again, and Sybelle stifled a moan, her muscles tensing under the impact. The chains held her arms taut, each jerk making the pulleys creak. Phoebe saw her lover shudder, her lips trembling around the gag, and a silent cry escaped her.

Between their spread legs, the metal dildos continued their relentless thrust, penetrating deeper with each jerky movement.