Ludsworth, one of Malthius's dungeon guards, was never known for his courage. Once a soldier in King Ethelred's army, he was disgraced when he ran at the first sign of trouble. The trouble, as it turned out, was a baby dragon he had been assigned to chase out of a local village. His cowardice ensured that he could never again find employ in any legitimate army. So when he found out Count Malthius was hiring, he jumped at the chance.
His counterpart, Mortley, was dismissed from Ethelred's army for a different reason: he was corrupt to the core. Mortley knew no loyalty and was never offered a bribe he didn't take. When he realized his treachery was about to be exposed, he deserted the army and became a mercenary. Naturally, he was a perfect fit for Malthius's crew.
What neither Ludsworth nor Mortley counted on, however, was their employer's kidnapping and torture of the King's daughter.
Ludsworth, being the more compassionate of the two, felt his heart ache every time he heard Princess Daphne scream. Mortley, although a colder man, was practical enough to realize that being caught as Malthius's accomplice would cost him his head. Both men were relieved when the room went quiet.
"I don't want to do this anymore," said Ludsworth.
"It's like you read my mind," replied Mortley. "This is a bad business."
"Sh-Should we go in and rescue her?" asked a hesitant Ludsworth.
"What? Screw her! As far as I'm concerned, she's just another spoiled noble brat. I'm just getting out of here while I still can. You can play hero all you want, but I hear Mordroc's hiring."
With that, Mortley disappeared down the tower stairs. Ludsworth started after him, then hesitated, trying to decide whether or not he should help the poor girl himself. When he heard his boss's malicious laughter, his courage broke, and he ran after his colleague.
Count Malthius watched the frightened, whimpering Princess for a long moment before putting the needle down. She was so beautiful. Although he knew she would soon be his, he also realized she'd still need a bit more convincing.
"Okay, your Highness, time to walk off the swelling in your soles."
Daphne couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Walk? How can I walk?! You've destroyed my feet!"
"Don't be silly my dear," chortled Malthius. "If I wanted your feet destroyed, you'd know it."
Before Daphne could ask what in the hell that was supposed to mean, Malthius was unlocking the stocks which held her ankles in place, followed by the shackles which held her wrists.
"It's okay Princess, I don't really expect you to walk on your own. You can lean on me while we promenade around the dungeon a bit."
Malthius helped Daphne to her feet. While the pain was excruciating, she was surprised at just how well they were still supporting her; far better than she ever would have imagined. That's when she took her chance.
It was Malthius's turn to know pain as Daphne's knee suddenly connected with his crotch, dropping the Count where he stood. The Princess tried to ignore her own agony as she half ran, half limped for the door. By the time she reached it, she realized her mistake. It was locked, and she didn't have the key. Before she could do anything else, Malthius grabbed her and dragged her to the rack. Despite her violent struggles, he was easily able to secure her wrists and ankles.
"YOU SPOILED, STUPID BITCH!," he screamed in her face. "HOW DARE YOU TAKE ADVANTAGE OF MY KINDNESS?!"
Kindness?, she thought incredulously. Does he actually believe what he's saying?
Malthius spent the next several minutes throwing objects and screaming curses. Though Daphne knew things were about to get worse, she couldn't help but smile to herself. She got to this bastard! She got to this bastard who had been torturing her; this bastard who killed her husband, her lover, her best friend. She got to him
and it felt good. It felt damn good!
Once his anger had passed, Malthius stopped and took a deep breath. When he was calm, he addressed the Princess.
"Daphne my dear," he began, "I won't take that little outburst personally. However, there must be consequences for your insolence."
The Count tore the front of Daphne's dress, exposing her breasts. They were more beautiful than he'd imagined. They were large, but proportionate; firm, yet supple. Her sovereign-sized nipples, a deep pink, seemed to be perpetually erect. He was mesmerized. Someday soon, he would bring pleasure to these breasts. But today, she needed to learn a lesson.
Malthius went to his table of instruments and found a clever little toy of his own invention: the nipple clamps. Seeing what was coming, Daphne closed her eyes and vowed not to give him the satisfaction of showing how much it would hurt. This was not so easy, as first one clamp, then the other pinched her tender nipples. The pain was sharp and intense! She moaned deeply as she wondered which was worse: the pain or the indignity of having her bosoms exposed.
While the Princess pondered that question, the Count began turning the winch, slowly pulling the helpless girl's limbs. Daphne soon began to forget about her nipples as she was stretched first to extreme discomfort, then to horrendous pain. Though she vowed to remain silent, she couldn't help but scream. It felt as if her limbs would be torn off!
Satisfied he'd found her limit, Malthius stopped to admire his handiwork. What a sight: the only daughter of the "great" King Ethelred, stretched to her limit, nipples clamped, feet bruised, battered, and burned, with no hope of rescue. She was all his! But he wasn't confident she'd accept his terms; not just yet