She grins.

He scoops her up and hugs her tightly.

She whimpers in pain and clings to him, curling up instinctively even though the movement and the pressure both make it hurt worse.

He kisses her forehead and holds her in his arms and gives her an affectionate squeeze and smiles when she whimpers again.

"My lord," she moans. "Please -"

He strokes her hair. "Yes?"

"I want - I want -" She shudders. "I don't know what I want. I want you to fuck me again, or burn me again, or shove a spiked mace in me - I want - I want to be hurt..."

"Oh? Not interested in mercy?"

Whimper. "It hurts so much and I'm so afraid and oh, my lord, I want it to be worse."

He laughs. He kisses her.

He reshapes the stone again, turning her in his arms so she can see. A cock as long as her forearm, its head as broad as her fist, juts upward from the center of a rippling mound. The way the surface moves makes it look like a pool of water lapping at the stone shaft.

"Like the look of that?" he murmurs. "I want you to ride it like the torture-loving slut you are. Show me how much you want to be hurt."

She stares. She imagines trying to get that thing inside her, right now, the way she is, burned deep enough that if she were anywhere but the Emperor's arms she'd expect to die of it.

It is going to hurt so much.

"Yes, my lord," she breathes.

He puts her down.

She clings to him for a few seconds until she's something like steady on her feet. It hurts to move, hurts to stand, hurts especially bad when she lurches forward to half-collapse onto the flowing stone. The 'water level' rises, lifting her up so that when she crawls up to the stone cock and kneels over it, she doesn't have to straighten up all the way to get on top of it.

She lowers herself cautiously, half expecting the stone 'water' to drop out from under her. It doesn't. He's going to make her do all the work herself.

The pressure of hard stone against her seared crotch is agonizing, and it only gets worse as she moves. Slowly, painfully, she settles down onto the stone cock and lets her weight force it into her cunt. Tears of pain run down her face. Down, down, deeper, deeper, charred flesh cracking and bleeding as the unyielding stone forces it open farther than it can stretch.

And then she's as far down as she can go. She tries, wriggling, whimpering in agony with every movement, but she can't get it any deeper.

"Please, my lord," she moans. "I want it, please, want it to fill me -"

"Then show me. Ride it like it's the best you've ever had. Ride it like it's mine and you're desperate for my seed."

She makes herself move, sliding a little ways up the shaft and then back down again. And again. And again. The rippling stone 'water' sinks slowly, so she gets a little deeper every time.

When it reaches her womb, she shudders and cries out, flinching from the pain, so much worse than what she's been doing to herself so far. And then she takes a deep breath, and lifts herself up and shoves herself down. Pain consumes her. She can barely breathe.

She does it again.

She can't even tell if it's reaching all the way, but she loves fucking herself like this, filling her burned-out cunt with hard stone, tearing herself open on it, giving herself to the pain. She is a torture-loving slut and this is exactly what she wants.

And then the head of the stone cock lodges itself in her womb.

She spasms, thrashing with pain, but it's stuck firmly enough that trying to pull herself off only makes the pain worse. It's almost as intense as when he shoved his hot iron in there in the first place, but she was barely conscious for that, and this time she's lucid enough to really pay attention.

He wraps his arms around her, holds her so she can't struggle, kisses her hair. "My treasure," he says. "My beautiful torture-loving slut, begging to be hurt. Is this what you wanted?"

"Yes," she gasps. "Yes, yes, everything, yes."

He puts his hand between her legs and uses lifecraft to spark pleasure under his fingers.

She screams.

Pain and pleasure wash the world away. There is no such thing as time, as space, as self. The only thing left is sensation, pure and primal.

When she regains the capacity for conscious thought, she is slumped against him, breathless and shaking, the stone cock still buried deep inside her. The pain is intense, but it pales next to what she just felt. She moans.

"You're incredible," he murmurs, petting her hair. "All this and you still want it. Don't you."

She nods unsteadily, not trusting her voice to function.

"Slut," he says affectionately. "Want to see how much worse I can make it?"

She shifts her weight slightly, so she can feel the hard stone inside her refusing to follow. Pain rises like the tide. She whimpers, and clings to him, and nods again.

He wraps his arms around her, and the surface of the stone creeps upward until she's solidly buried in it, completely unable to move anything below her hips. He kisses her hair and her cheek and her neck and her shoulder.

And the stone cock starts fucking her. Roughly, brutally, plunging into her ravaged womb with every thrust.

She screams, struggling fruitlessly. Illusory stone holds her in place. She has never been more helpless, never been more violated. Her whole body convulses with pain and horror every time she feels hard stone filling her womb, and feeling it pull out again is almost as bad, and then it's back before she can so much as draw a full breath.