He steps closer, runs his hands along the burns, keeps going up to stroke her hips, her breasts, and then back down again, to give her thighs one more squeeze -

- and then he shoves his cock into her blistered cunt and starts fucking her hard.

She screams.

It hurts even more than she thought it would, and it's better that way, it's incredible, deep searing intimate pain like nothing she's ever felt, inescapable, overpowering, incandescent. Every other sensation is drowned in a blaze of ecstatic agony.

"Beautiful," he breathes. "You're beautiful. My Niamira."

He slows down, watching her face, her wonderfully expressive face, listening to the sounds she makes, feeling the heat and the way her burned flesh catches and pulls and cracks apart.

It hurts less when he fucks her slowly. She can feel other things, now, like the tears running down her face, or her fingernails digging into her palms.

"My lord," she sobs. "So fucking good, my lord. Want you - need you - so good - fuck -"

"Mmm. Yes."

She feels amazing. He's so glad he found her. It's never been this good, never, he's raped thousands of girls and a fair number of boys and not one of them has ever had that look on their face - not one has ever begged like she begs, daring him to do his worst, desperate for it -

He spills his seed deep in her ruined cunt, then pulls out slowly, stroking her hips where his fingers left bruises. He's not sure she even noticed the bruises. She had other things on her mind.

She moans. After a moment, she manages to unclench her fists.

"Thank you, my lord. That was wonderful."

He watches her slowly relax, and marvels at how utterly fascinatingly lovely she is. Perfect little thing. It's going to be such a shame when she dies.

His hands slide along her thighs, and this time he heals the burns, and the strain in her legs from holding them apart for him, and the nail-marks in her palms, and the bruised hips she still hasn't noticed. The mound of stone underneath her reshapes itself again, cradling her comfortably, letting her relax as much as she likes.

She stretches out and goes blissfully limp, floating on stone.

He leans down and whispers, "Have you forgotten the next part already?"

Shiver. "No, my lord."

"Are you afraid?"

She smiles slightly. "Yes, my lord."

"You don't look afraid. You look like you couldn't be happier."

"I like the way you make me afraid."

"Mm."

He summons his illusory iron rod again, holds it over her so she can feel the heat on her skin, watches her shiver under its radiated warmth.

"And is this still what you want?"

"Yes, my lord, please," she says, spreading her legs with a soft, helpless moan.

So he sets the end of the rod against her cunt and pushes. Slowly.

She spreads her legs wider, panting and shaking, trying to beg but only managing a broken whimper.

It's beautiful.

He can see her flesh blister and char, hear it sizzle, feel the resistance as burned meat clings to the hot iron. The smell is overpowering.

"I could keep going," he murmurs. "All the way into your womb. If there's a child in there now, there won't be when I'm done with it. Spread your legs for that, my treasure."

...she scrunches her eyes shut and keeps her legs apart.

It hurts, and keeps hurting, more and more the deeper he goes. She has been introduced to so many new levels of pain lately, and this is the worst one yet. It floods her senses, drowning out everything, until she can't even tell if she's screaming, until she can't even wonder if she's screaming.

(She is screaming.)

He does what he promised. He keeps it there while she screams and writhes. He shapes the stone to hold her in place.

And, eventually, he pulls it out. A shower of ash rains down from the illusion when he dissolves it - remnants of her flesh stuck to the iron, now free to break apart and fall.

He waits.

The pain ebbs. She catches her breath. Her cunt is a ravaged mess, all the way in to where he burned out her womb. The slightest movement is agony. She feels dizzy and lightheaded. A hollow shell filled with pain.

And the first thing she says is, "Thank you, my lord."

He laughs.

"You really are a treasure."

"I know," she says, gazing dreamily up at him. "I assure you, my lord, I've never felt more treasured in my life."

...he starts giggling.