<em>  "Please end his suffering!"</em>The Dark Prince had been listening to Cris's prayers, for her father was no longer in pain. Now it was time for her pay the price, and be brave. The extra guard was not needed, as on strained toes, she inches forwards, dragged when her pace was too slow, towards the booming voice that shook her limp frame. NO! She didn't want to be closer, she could see the eyes, staring at her, accusing, as they bubbled and fried. She didn't want to breathe in the stench of burning, of burning...she gagged, once, twice, then wretched violently. She tasted sour, burning bile that clawed at the soft flesh of her mouth and throat. Spitting barely easing the vile taste. Between sobs she licked her lips, and was about to speak, when she realized she hadn't been asked a question.<br/><br/>Fear washed over her, but she was starting to grow numb from it all. She'd seen her father, the only family she had, brutally executed, what was a little fear. It gnawed at her stomach, her bladder fluttered, and she trembled, but remained composed. She heard the command and fell to her knees obediently, barely pausing before she forwards, her face knocking painfully against the hard wood of the floor. She was finally asked a question.<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">“Please,”</span>she whimpered, the word tumbling out before she even knew what she was going to say next. She drooled a bit, scant relief of the vile taste in her mouth. It pooled, right where her face. “I, I will-no, don't!” she first mumbled then pleaded into the wood.<br/><br/>She wiggled, a weak token of resistance represent how much she did not want this, her shame to be revealed. The filthy rages where stripped from her, the cloth that bound her breathes revealed. That too was cut away, and though her prostrated form hid her breasts and crotch, the fact that she wore binding likely already spoke of her secret. She was paralyzed, becoming aware of a throbbing, stinking pain in her brutalized fingers.