It is remarkable how much the human body can be damaged without causing immediate death. Death may result over time due to the deterioration and of the damaged area and failure to heal; but if certain areas of the body are left intact, the victim remains alive to deal with the agony inflicted on her for many days. If damage to the brain, the heart and lungs are avoided, and care is given to prevent the loss of too much blood, the victim is perfectly capable of surviving for long periods of time.
Such it the case of disembowelment, the process of cutting into the abdomen and removing the internal organs, especially the intestines.
My first case observing the slow torture of a victim condemned to death was the disembowelment of a young woman in Paris. The pretty dark haired girl was captured during a secret meeting of traitors, and in spite of her pleas of innocence, had been convicted of treason herself. The King was particularly concerned that the group of seditionists spent a long time suffering before their death.
Several guards were tasked with causing her slow death, and being a good acquaintance with the chief prison guard, I was invited to observe. I agreed willingly, hoping to learn new techniques that might be useful in my own work, and was admitted to the prison on the morning after the victim’s conviction and sentence. The torture was not to take place in the holding cell, where the girl was secured in stocks which had prevented any significant movement for the last several days. The guards took me to the cell first, where several women were held, chained or held in most uncomfortable restraints. The youngest of the lot, a young woman with long raven black hair and a pretty face, was released from her restraint and dragged from the room.
As we reached the torture chamber, the girl was thrown to the floor. She was wearing a typical bar maid’s dress, apron and bodice; all were stained and dirty from her work, and later from the stress of imprisonment. Two of the guards quickly relieved the girl of these clothes, tearing them from her as she struggled feebly to resist.
When she was standing naked before us at last, she revealed the most nubile, well formed and pleasant female form I had observed in many a year. As is clear from my writings, torture is best inflicted when the victim is naked, as the feeling of helplessness and vulnerability is enhanced; thus I had seen many women naked in my time as an interrogator. This woman was tall, thin, but with beautiful curved breasts, slight ripples from her ribs seen under the flesh of her sides, a thin waist and pleasingly round buttocks. The soft dark hair between her legs was straight, almost as if it had been combed, and her legs were strong and shapely.
It seemed almost a tragedy to tear and destroy this impressive girl, and I commented on this to the chief guard. He agreed, and suggested we use the girl, one last time, for such a body should not be wasted.
She was thus thrown upon her back on a table, and her legs pulled apart and tied against the legs of the table, exposing her private parts. Until this point, the girl had struggled some, but with no energy, and as she lay exposed before us she sobbed quietly, accepting this part of her fate.
I undid my trousers, and exposed my hard member. Moments later, my hard sensitive head was pressing against the softness between her legs. I strained, pushed and finally gained entrance, and felt the delight of the gorgeous woman surrounding my flesh. I thrust, observing how each of my thrusts made her breasts jiggle slightly, and how she occasionally gasped when my thrust was particularly hard and deep. Her flesh caressed my member, stroked it and pulled the lust from me as I moved and plunged into her body. Before long, I reached my climax, thrusting deep into the woman’s body to deposit my semen.
My own use of the victim’s body was duplicated by the other guards; repeatedly, they exposed themselves, entered her, thrust until satisfied, and withdrew. As the process continued, it was obviously easier for her to take the large members, as the semen which dripped from her added more lubrication. When we had all spent ourselves, she lay motionless on the table for a while, no longer crying, but simply staring at the wall. She remained as lovely as when she had first been stripped.
When they were ready and recovered from their pleasure, the guards lifted the girl from the table and dragged her to a large cross of wood that stood against the wall of the chamber. There the woman had her wrists securely tied to the upper beams, and then her ankles forced apart and tied to the lower beams. The ropes were pulled very tight, and she cried out as they were tightened, begging for mercy for the first time. No mercy was given, of course, and the ropes were tightened until there was no possibility that she could struggle free. They cut into her wrists sharply, causing some blood to seep out, and her hands and feet quickly turned purple as the blood circulation was cut off.
The beautiful shape of the young woman’s body was accentuated by her position: hanging from her arms, stretched to show her naked body to full advantage, legs spread and tied apart. Her breathing was quick, the pain of her bonds taking hold as her weight pulled her down. She writhed, attempting to gain freedom, or at the least to find a less painful position.
One guard produced several items to be used during the torture of the girl. A knife, a hook of sorts, and a bucket. The knife was like those that fishermen use for gutting a fish, short and curved back on itself, with the sharp of the blade facing to the inside of the curve.
The knife was placed against the flat stomach of the girl, who looked down and saw the sharp point pressing against her flesh. A small trickle of blood marked deep red against the white smoothness of her flesh. As she saw what was about to happen, she screamed in panic, swearing that she was innocent, that she would do anything to avoid her fate, begging for mercy. The blood from the puncture wound in her stomach trickled down between her legs, where it mingled with the sperm seeping down her inner thigh.
With a sudden thrust, the knife was plunged deeper into her flesh, and then pulled hard to the side. The screams changed from panic to agony as her flesh was ripped apart, a gash about six or seven inches long opening up halfway between her belly button and her chest.
The knife was removed, and I observed that because of the curve in the blade, it had penetrated sufficiently to slice open the stomach, but not enter or tear the internal organs. Perfectly suited to the job, the knife had opened her up, ready for exploration, without doing any serious damage to her insides.
The poor girl’s screams had actually subsided some, as I suspect the shock of what was happening overwhelmed her. She looked down, saw the gash in her abdomen, and then tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling as she sobbed.
The bucket was placed below the girl, and just in front. There it waited for a while, as the executioner guard drank some wine and chatted with the rest of us about the crime the girl had committed. He estimated that she would live at least a day, and perhaps longer, before succumbing to infection and shock.
After being fortified with several goblets of wine, the guard took the strange hook in hand and approached the hanging girl. The hook had two sharp prongs at the end, pointed and hooked around on themselves in a most evil manner. Slowly, he worked it into the gaping wound in her abdomen, sliding it in and then around inside of her. At last he seemed satisfied and began slowly pulling it out. As the hook appeared once again, we could see it had penetrated and was pulling out a thin white tube of flesh. This tube was only about an inch in diameter, perhaps a little more, and while it was covered in red blood, the tissue looked more like a pale purple and gray.
The small intestine was pulled from the opening, slowly sliding out like an eel or wet worm. When a foot of it had been pulled out and lay hanging over the condemned stomach, the guard removed the hook from where it pierced the organ and re-inserted it deep within the girls stomach. Pushing in further, the iron rod which ended in the hook disappeared inside her.
The girl was sweating profusely, water gathering and trickling down her beautiful body, breasts wobbling as she struggled, chest rising and falling as she screamed. She looked down and saw how she was slowly being torn apart. The horror of it overwhelmed her and she slumped unconscious for a moment, though only for a moment. The rod was slowly being removed and as the hook appeared once again, it showed that more of the intestines had been grabbed and were being pulled out. Three feet of bowel now hung out of the wound and down the stomach of the girl.
Grabbing the bowel, the guard pulled slowly but surely, and the snake-like slimy mess slid easily out of the opening. The girl hung her head, watching her intestines being removed slowly. Enough had been removed that they now began to gather in the bucket below, wrapping around in a circular pattern, covered with blood and slime.
The woman was clearly in agony, but the greater part of the pain was in knowing, and actually seeing, how her body was being slowly violated and taken apart. She sobbed, cried, and screamed when strength allowed her, no longer begging for mercy. Her hands had turned a deep purple, fingers swollen and unmoving. Blood now covered the front of her flesh from her stomach downward, making a stark contrast to the beauty of her smooth skin above, the shapeliness of her breasts, neck, and the beauty of her face and hair.
As more of the bowels slid out and filled the bucket, I took the opportunity to come close to the victim and observer the operation more closely. The opening in her stomach was low enough so as not to damage her chest or diaphragm, which accounted for her continued ability to scream. Her stomach, which had been flat before, appeared to be becoming slightly concave. Somewhere around 10 or 12 feet of her bowels had been removed at this time.
While there was blood, most of it was from the initial gash to gain entrance to her insides. This was no longer bleeding, and the operation continued, removing her bowels without causing any immediate life threatening damage. An unfortunate side effect of this torture – she lost complete control of her bowels, and defecated on the floor below her, in violent, large bursts. The stench was rather oppressive for some time after.
When almost 25 feet of the thin, slightly lumpy gray tubing had been pulled from her, the guard stopped, and lifted a large handful up to the woman’s face. Intestines were smeared over the beautiful cheeks, lips and eyes… and then looped over her neck so that she wore her own bowels like a necklace.
No longer screaming with agony, the woman was still in great pain but lacked the strength to express it. Her body was shaking uncontrollably. And then, just as the guard moved to remove the last bit of intestine, she weakly vomited and then fainted.
A bucket of water was produced and splashed on her face and upper body. This cleaned some of the slime from her and restored some of her previous beauty. It also roused her from her faint, and she looked down at the remains of her stomach and screamed with renewed vigor.
Her bowels were still connected to her insides, and ran back up into the gash in her stomach. Pulling harder, the guard slid more of her entrails out, and quickly exposed a much larger, wider organ that was deep red in color. There was very little of this exposed before it stubbornly refused to yield more of its length.
The interior of the torture chamber had become saturated with terrible odors, and was almost breathable. At my suggestion, all of us decided to go wash and refresh ourselves at the local tavern, to return later and finish the task.
After a good meal and several bottles of wine, we returned to the prison and descended to the chamber. The offensive odors within struck us hard, as if it were a physical wall. The woman hung from the cross, breathing with a rasping labored effort. Flies had gathered around her entire body, infesting her extracted entrails, her open stomach, and her face.
As we had removed the most easily obtained intestines, any more disembowelment would require a larger opening. The gutting knife was produced once more, and inserted at the far edge of the existing wound. Pressing in and then down with much force, the flesh was opened up in a descending gouge. A large flap of the victim’s stomach opened up with a somewhat wet flopping noise. Her attempts at screaming were almost inaudible, as she was no longer able to use her stomach muscles.
With experienced hands, the knife sliced out her remaining large intestine, and her bowels fell free of her body, no longer hanging out. Blood pour freshly, mixing with the blackened dried blood from several hours before.
Pressing around inside the opened abdomen, the guard then applied the knife once again, cutting swiftly. He produced a lumpy glob of flesh and explained it was the internal part of her woman’s organs. This horrible visage actually made my stomach churn, seeing the woman’s internal organs removed and displayed in this manner as she looked on in a haze of agony, hanging from the cross.
After some time, it became clear the woman was slipping in and out of consciousness, but might live for some time. I suggested that we get the process over with, and help her to her final reward (or punishment, as the case was for this traitor). The oppressive stench of that room was very unpleasant, and I had no more wish to view the woman’s suffering.
In response, a rope and short wooden rod was produced. I took it to the woman, who looked at me with glazed, red eyes as I wrapped the rope around her neck and then tied it to the wooden rod. Twisting the rod around tightened the rope, and as it tightened, the woman began gasping for air. Two more twists, and the gasping had stopped, her neck was compressed such that she could no longer breath. Three more twists and the pressure building up in her head turned her face purple, and the tongue protruded from her mouth. Several more twists, and her eyes looked as if they would pop from her head. There was no more movement in her, either in her face, or her body.
Remaining there for a moment to assure she was dead, I then removed the garrote, and left the chamber. As I left, the other guards were cutting the ropes from her wrists and ankles, and there was a heavy thump as her once beautiful lifeless form fell to the ground on top of the remains of her disemboweled organs.
It was a lesson for me, watching this woman’s death by torture. And while her fate was deserved as a treasonous wretch, I decided that my activities were to be restricted to the art of interrogation and persuasion from that time forward.