The Evolution of Elsa Kreiss by Michele E. Gwynn


Elsa hung forward in her restraints, covered in welts. They were hot, swollen, and hurt like hell. The angry red lines crisscrossed her torso and thighs. Amazingly, there was no blood spilled, not yet, but Ivchencko said he was just getting started.

“You see? What did I tell you?” He smiled, proudly standing with arms out waiting for praise. “Did I not say I’m an expert?” He stepped forward and traced a welt that ran across her breasts with his gloved finger. “No broken skin, and not a single drop of blood spilled.” He admired his handiwork. “Lovely. They match your hair, my dear?” He looked up at her and casually swept the hair aside hanging over her eyes.

Elsa was panting. Her shallow breaths taken with great care since deeper breathing seemed to stretch her tight, inflamed skin painfully. Despite this, despite her need to scream, and possibly faint, she maintained as much composure as possible. “You did. You did say you were adept.”

He smiled. “There now. Was that so hard to admit?”

She looked him in the eye. “You know, of course, I’m going to kill you.”

He laughed. “That’s the spirit, my dear!” He patted her arm causing her to flinch and wince in pain.

Elsa could hear Liliya sobbing behind her. Every crack of the whip brought forth an involuntary yelp from the girl who watched from her cage as Ivchencko tortured her.

Yuri wandered over to his wall of tools and picked out the next device, a long metal rod. He smacked the table with it a few times for effect, and then came back to stand in front of Elsa. “My choice now. This has always been a favorite.” He eyed the instrument, stroking up and down in a sexual manner. “Women just can’t seem to get enough of my rod, Mistress.”

“Rather small and thin, isn’t it?” She knew this would piss him off, would backfire on her quickly, but damned if she’d let him break her.

“I admire your wit. But it won’t save you. Let me know how small and thin you find it after.” He eyed her body as if trying to decide where to begin. Fear gripped Elsa’s heart causing it to pound in her chest. His lips unfurled at the edges into the most evil smile she’d ever witnessed. Then he stepped back, raised the rod, and swung, connecting with her knee.

Elsa let out a scream as the pain flooded her body. She was sure something just broke, and the tears streaming down her face making new tracks in her already smeared mascara, dripped off her jaw and hit the floor.

Liliya cried out. “Please stop! Please!”

“Shut up over there or I’ll call Gregor down. Or is that what you want?” He tossed a contemptuous look at the dirty girl in the cage. How Gregor could touch her was beyond him. She needed to be scrubbed.

“No!” Liliya panicked.

“It’s okay, Liliya. Stay quiet, please.” Elsa begged the girl not to bring attention to herself despite her own agony.

Ivchenko gave her an admiring look. “You’re sensible. I like that about you. And tougher than you look.”

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