The Planewalker's Treatise on the Bi-Agonies of True Pain

The Multiverse is known for specific corners and nooks where things are intensely peculiar and downright bizarre; anything from elemental pockets on the Inner Planes, the ruins of dead gods and civilizations within the deep Astral Plane, particular locales of the Outer Planes, and unbeknownst planes that border the Deep Ethereal Plane.

The Lower Planes are the most dreadful of all, and perhaps of these are the many facets of the Abyss, of which no less than six hundred and sixty-six specific layers are definitively known, and perhaps an uncounted number more exist.

Rumored to actually be a layer of the Abyss, but none seem to know for sure are the elusive Bi-Agonies of True Pain- a horrific dual plane more commonly known simply as True Pain. In at least once ancient codex recovered from an unknown source, the Bi-Agonies are specifically listed as the two thousandth, four hundredth, and seventy-first plane of the Abyss. 

Some of most terrible of all suffering occurs on the plane, specifically it is a place of absolute suffering for women. No male is known to have ever found the Bi-Agonies; females credibly suspected to have done so have never returned. Still, reports of the true appearance of these planes persist. A festering landscape that is mostly flat, broken occasionally by hills and mounds of fleshly appearance, surrounded by flat planes covered in pale yellowish, thick and sucking slime. The slime bubbles and churns here and there, crawling with fat, maggot-like worms. This ghastly scene is repeated directly above; perhaps no more than fifteen meters above the festering slime hangs an inverted copy of the landscape. Both halves of the Bi-Agonies are dimly lit by the feeble warmth of a reddish sun, more oval and oblate than round, that flickers in the thin crack of pale salmon sky that divides the two lands.

Both halves of the plane are literally riddled with wormholes; disturbingly organic pores or orifices that burrow down through the middle of pustule mounds. Some lead to elsewhere, but most wind from one location in the Bi-Agonies to another often to the facing landscape, making travel from the 'lower' to 'upper' portion a fairly easy thing. Both halves of the plain has its own downward gravity, allowing two travelers to look up and see the other standing tenuously inverted above them.

No matter where access to the Bi-Agonies of True Pain is gained from, the entry is ultimately a fleshy, slimy tunnel just barely large enough for a woman to crawl through. Some sources have referred to it as the Abyssal Esophagus or the Mouth of Pain, but the entry is specifically a round orifice roughly a meter in diameter. The orifice will only appear to females doomed to be a victim of the plane, and such a victim seems to inherently know that she must enter the orifice and that her doom is utterly inevitable. Many victims do voluntarily enter the mouth of the tube upon its appearance, but as a contingency the orifice is ringed with thin tentacles that are deceptively strong, and will ensnare and pull in the struggling, unwilling victim.

Two crucial junctures always exist within the esophageal tube; the first is a vast, elongated cavern known as the Toothed Maw, sometimes referred to as the Jaws of Doom. A wide, horizontal slit in the cavern set both top and bottom with jagged, irregular teeth that look like stalactites and stalagmites, some of them close to two meters in length, upon the victim entering the head of the maw cavern, a powerful contraction of the cavern walls past the teeth and inhalation of the air eventually sucks the female into the center of the maw where the teeth are, with a low but distinct roar. Gravity within the fleshy cavern appears to be mostly nonexistent, so the victim literally glides or floats into the teeth, which inevitably close on her body, with the unerring ability to penetrate through the hips and crotch of the victim.

Left to hang, paralyzed and bleeding in spasms of horrific pain on the teeth, the victim receives her first punishment on the frightful path to the Bi-Agonies. The time she will remain within the Toothed Maw may be days to even weeks in real time, but this far into the path to the dual plane, time seems to be in suspension or nonexistent.

Once unceremoniously dumped through a tight sphincter at the posterior of the maw cavern after the teeth have had their way with the victim, she has no choice but to squeeze through the orifice, which is much like an anal exit from the cavern. On the far side of the sphincter, the fleshy tunnel eventually reaches a fork, splitting off in two directions. Eventually these two tunnels lead to one or the other sides of the Bi-Agonies. In the case of victims that enter the plane in pairs, which appear to be the norm, the victims must take separate tunnels, always appearing 'above' or 'below' one another on the facing planes.


The dual nature of the plane tends to apply to its victims as well; women are admitted to the  Bi-Agonies in pairs to experience and suffer True Pain. True Pain itself is said to be infinite in nature. The degree of pain increases to infinity, something which faces two critical conundrums. The first being the physical limits of a body; a mind and body would both be broken long before anything approaching infinite levels is achieved.

Secondly, the sheer nature of inflicting infinite pain would require nearly incomprehensible levels of energy- both of these hurdles appear to be surmounted by the fact the Bi-Agonies as a plane seem to be entirely devoted to these goals.In addition to this seemingly impossible pain, the fat maggots that inhabit the slime also force their way into the vaginas and anuses of the victims.

The first known victims are the Pantian warriors, Silvercrotch and Katrina, a pair of blondes found their way to the Bi-Agonies upon a prophecy. The former wore only a pair of metallic, elastane, silver bikini panties, the latter only white vinyl plastic bikini panties upon receiving their sentence of True Pain. Both remain transfixed and spread-eagle on their backs in the slime, teeming with worms around them, their bikini panties stretched and bloated with worms that burrow painfully into their vaginas and anuses, forever facing one another with horror in their eyes as they undertake their journey into the endless halls of infinite pain. 

The Forest Females of Speid

At one time the isolated and tropical island of Speid was considered to be part of the Earth-like world of Anaron, but more currently is believed to lie in one of Tharun's small and briny seas. One of several isles in what was loosely known as the Female Archipelago, it included other lands such as Pan'ti, where a race of scantily-clad female warriors known as Pantians lived. 

Speid was an irregularly shaped island that was geographically divided by a spine of mountains and forested highlands into three traditional lands. That of Nar, Ea and Sen, each claimed by a tribe of Forest Females that identified themselves by that region's name. Other than these divisions the tribes were essentially identical in culture. The tribes were entirely Caucasian in appearance, and society was divided sharply by blonde or brunette hair. Brunettes were regarded as strong warrior types, and were trained so, enjoying full privileges as free women. Blonde hair was regarded as a sign of weakness, and this was more than cultural bias, as the brunettes often possessed several times the strength and intelligence of the blondes. This led to a severely divided, two-tier tribal culture of tops and bottoms; dominant brunettes and submissive blondes.

This order was never questioned and completely natural to the Forest Female tribes, as the blondes of the tribes realized their weakness and inferiority, and trained one another rigorously to demonstrate absolute submission to the brunettes. This permanent condition of a compulsory slave caste only had to occasionally enforced by brunette warriors, for the common history of the three tribes agrees that the weaker blondes willingly entered a status of fawning subservience to the brunettes, knowing it was the natural order of things on Speid. A brunette Forest Female warrior is regarded as of near-goddess status to the blondes, who immediately prostrate themselves in the presence of a brunette warrioress. On extremely rare occasions a revolutionary-minded blonde arises among their ranks with the absurd notion of her flaxen sisters throwing off the chains of their servitude to the Darkhairs, as they commonly refer to their brunette masters among one another. The brunettes permit such insurrections to a point, for they very predicatively always end in the same manner. Many of the blondes actually remove these girls from positions of influence themselves, thus ensuring the precious order is maintained. On occasion a more troublesome girl is dragged out by her brunette captors and publicly put to death as a clear example. This method of execution is customary and often the same; a savage spear thrust through the genitals whereupon the blonde is expected to hang impaled on the spear, enjoying an excruciatingly slow and painful death. 

The tribes are entirely lesbian in nature; brunettes sometimes enjoy intimacy among one another, but can demand sex of the blonde class at any time. In such instances the blonde must fully submit sexually to the brunette; this is often done publicly, the sex is brutal and often involves pain and humiliation for the blonde. This is a condition that the blondes have come to accept, and most prefer degrading and painful sex with their masters. 

Dress for each class of Forest Female tribe is the same; primitive and nearly non-existent. Typically worn are bangles, anklets and chokers, often crafted of bone or ivory, the more well to do enjoying the use of rarer metal jewelry, and many of the brunettes wearing necklaces of animal teeth to denote their strength and warrior status among the tribe. 

Clothing is simple and clearly delineated along social status; brunettes wear tight-fitting, elastic nylon panty briefs of pastel blue, the blondes wearing briefs of elastic white nylon. The native tribes refer to the material as silkrubber, which is essentially Lycra or elastane. For purposes of appearance, the briefs are the same in design and opacity as Sears brand Fundamentals VIP full-cut, nylon briefs. The actual origin of this custom is unknown, but the briefs have maintained their recognition and status among the tribes as an undergarment, as they are known in outside cultures, and this is all any woman is allowed to wear, regardless of status. The tropical climate of the island easily allows for this custom of wearing only underwear. 

The nylon all briefs are made of are still regarded as a superior fabric, marking even the blondes, known among their masters as white-briefs, as a privileged member of a superior tribe. Materials such as plastic and rubber are known but prohibited on the isle, recognized as worn only by true slave women. Thus it becomes obvious that when Kiri visited the isle wearing actual slave fetters and clad only in her white plastic briefs, was immediately made a slave to the tribes, regarded as a 'low-girl' even to the blondes; effectively of full slave status even to their subservient caste.

Kiri was quickly captured in the lands of the Tribe of Ea and quickly given a sentence of torture that prisoners and outsiders receive; lashed to several poles of bamboo in a spread-eagle fashion and face down, over an array of sharped stakes that pierce and impale her body. The women ensure that at least one stake is positioned to directly penetrate and pierce the genitals of the victim. The victim is then switched and scourged on her back and buttocks as more stakes are positioned to impale her breasts. In Kiri's case, a cruel scourge fashioned of thick, thorny vines was used on the rear panel and crotch of her white plastic briefs.


Kiri had been traveling with several female companions, including Kathi of Nar; a brunette of the north tribe that was proficient in a bone spear and knife. Upon realizing Kiri's capture, Kathi pleaded with the leaders of the Ea tribe holding her, asking for her release as she was a trusted friend.

However, upon given word that she was to be released, Kiri begged her own request; that she be allowed to remain lashed to the poles and complete her punishment, so thoroughly had Kiri been gratified by her torment. She had only completed the first day of her assigned punishment, and Forest Female custom necessitates a minimum of three days over the piercing stakes.

Furthermore, Kiri requested that her suffering be worsened for the duration of her punishment, and here Kiri was introduced cruelly to the poison known as ooru. A greenish and thick venom made from several substances including the sap of exotic plants, ooru intensifies sensations of pain to where it is applied, at least tenfold by most accounts, adding a terrible burning itch when applied to flesh. Ooru is reserved among all the tribe as used to torture women in the most extreme of cases. A healthy application of ooru was then slathered on the wide crotch of Kiri's white plastic briefs, and also on the tip and shaft of the impaling spike set under her genitals. The next two days would witness Kiri screaming and writhing hysterically in the vines lashing her wrists and ankles, balanced and impaled on the terrible spike piercing her genitals.

At what is considered the geographical center of Speid, three arms of the mountain range that spans the isle converge, and just south of the foothills of this nexus and in deep forest stands The Pillar. None seem to know much of it, other than it is extremely ancient, and once was part of something larger, or used for some purpose. Standing over one hundred and fifty meters in height, and over twelve meters in width at its base, made of smooth, bland white stone, it stands with no other visible signs of support than ascending straight among the canopy of the forest. 

Some half dozen meters or more from the top, which is flat and reached by rope ladders, an array of polished steel spikes protrude from secure mounts in the stone. All are identical, being roughly sixty centimeters in length, at least eight centimeters, round and tapering to a point on the end. Each has a thick metal flange about the shaft about twenty centimeters from the tip, and all protrude upward and out from the wall about thirty degrees from vertical. About the base of each are many smears and stains from layers of bloodletting. 


The Pillar is used in a form of unspeakable ritual torture. While within the Tribe of Sen land, The Pillar is regarded as both common and sacred ground for all three tribes. Women are sent to The Pillar for torture, which is a ritual of endurance and womanhood for brunettes, and a severe punishment for blondes.

A Victim of The Pillar is made to stand facing it at its base, where her wrists are lashed together at the small of her back, completely denying her the use of her hands. A rope harness is secured under her armpits and about her ribcage, and a peculiar artifact called a Lune Pendant is placed about her neck on thin cord; the pendant is a small crescent moon of silver some five centimeters wide, which dangles between the wearer's bared breasts.

After a ritual whipping to her breasts and buttocks, the female victim is tediously raised to the height of the metal spikes by women on the Pillar's top, using a primitive winch to slowly bring her up. The female is raised until her hips each the height of the spike she is intended to use.

At this point, the girls hips are pushed up and toward the metal spike, by the help of two women, often stronger blondes, perched on rope ladders on either side of her. The spike is allowed to penetrate and fill her vagina; typically the flange allows the spike to penetrate the length of the victim's vagina and to the mouth of her womb, but no further so the impalement does not continue into her vital organs above.


The harness is then removed, and the female victim is forced to hang on the spike, her complete weight on her genitals, in indescribable, crippling pain and a state of complete helplessness. The mounting scenario is completed with a brutal whipping of the woman's buttocks. All women are allowed to wear their panty briefs while mounted on the spike; typically the leg hole elastic is stretched aside, allowing entry through the opening, or the tip of the spike is simply punched through the crotch of her briefs. For particularly severe sentences of torment, a thick coating of ooru is applied to the spike. 


What is of important note is the Lune Pendant allows both powerful healing and sustenance powers to the victim; while wearing the pendant, the victim is unable to expire from thirst, hunger or injury. This allows her to be suspended in a nearly indefinite sentence on The Pillar, and sentences forbid the victim from hanging on the spike for less than one full year. The pain from the spike in the victim's genitals is obviously excruciating, and over the weeks and months ahead she is driven to hysterical madness from the pain that never ends and is inescapable, banishing any rest or sleep. The pillars have a trail of streamed blood below them from the near constant bleeding of her genitals, a condition that the Lune Pendant protects her from expiring from.
  
The stone face of the pillar around the spikes are smeared with random streaks of dried blood, from the many women who have desperately scratched and tried in vain to gain purchase on the smooth stone, wearing their knees and toes bloody and raw from the effort; caused by the despair and hysteria of the victims to push their hips up off the spike at any cost and stop the never-ending, torturous pain.

Such displays of frantic and helpless struggling are not considered shameful among the tribes; no woman goes to The Pillar with any illusions of the barbaric nature of her punishment and the terrifying pain she is giving herself up to. To suffer on a spike on The Pillar is to give one's self up utterly and completely to unspeakable suffering. Even the most hardened brunette warriors are easily reduced to helpless screaming and pleading for mercy. 

Despite this horrific fact, The Pillar is highly desirable among women of the tribes as a method of suffering, and among all three tribes suffering is seen as necessary and a true and worthy achievement. Most brunette warriors long to be tested on The Pillar to prove their strength and womanhood, and many blondes hope to be found worthy of enduring it as punishment.

Kiri: Worg-Rider in the Tharunian Wastes, Part III [WARNING: GRAPHIC]

 

 

Later in the night Kiri rolled over, feeling the wiry hide of the worg pressed against her. She been sleeping there at its side since some time after sundown. The central cavern would have been dark, but a soft glow persisted. The bio-luminescent fungus and lichen, that either thrived and survived despite the ancient Arcanian ruins here, or perhaps because of them. In the bathing blue-green light she could see the lines of columns and broken walls from a long-abandoned outpost. The collared human harlot, now the prized bitch of this worg pack that had made its den here, realized her lover was stirring.

Sliding and turning its body, the alpha worg moved until its penis thrust out before Kiri’s face, erect and flaming red even in the wan light. Here would be committed bestial blasphemies foul enough to be worthy of the dark priestesses of The Triumvirate.

The beast’s eyes were watching her intently; Kiri dared to meet them for a brief instant, then lowered her gaze quickly and demonstrated her submission, understanding what was expected of her. It growled lightly at her a moment, but moving slowly and non-threateningly, the slave girl took the warg's turgid shaft in her hand. It was rough and covered with the open sores, and still oozed with pus. Pushing aside a momentary hesitancy, Kiri lowered her head and opened her lips wide, moving her mouth to the oozing cock. If the Triumvirate scrutiny-drones were on silent watch, then let them watch, for she was about to give them a worthy show.


Lapping lightly at first, she ran the tip of her eager pink tongue around the fleshy organ, ignoring the initial foulness of the dripping pus. The cock smelled so foul…horrid, but soon light lapping turned to fervent licking, then impassioned slurping as she licked up all the creamy pus. It actually wasn’t that bad, not really, the slave girl reflected, quickly swallowing the rancid pus. She wasn’t even close to finished with that delightful, flaring red piece of raw meat.

Now Kiri began to suck, taking the shaft in her hands, she sucked and slurped the large head with enthusiasm. The smell of the worg's infected groin was nauseating…the taste of the dripping infected penis disgusting…but Kiri ignored both and concentrated on pleasuring the worg. It was not long become it came with a low howl and she choked from the massive release of its testicles. It was impossible to take it all in; much of the semen ran from her lips but Kiri thirstily gulped as much as she could. The massive and muscular hindquarters lunged forward instinctively, but she pulled back, knowing what the eager and charging thing might do to her. Rammed into the soft depths of her throat it could kill her easily. Turning about quickly, she stretched her bottoms aside slightly. Raising her pantied ass to the alpha worg, she plucked the elasticized leg banding off her ass, pulling the wide seat of her briefs aside until her cunt was soon gliding on the ruby cock, and her fingers grabbed hold of broken rocks beneath them, bracing herself for the inevitable thrust.


“Aggghhhhhh!!!” She screamed in agony, the warg impaling her in one brutal thrust, the huge knotted base of its cock pushing right up to her swollen lips.



A splash of foamy white hit the rocks in front of her, splattering on her face and heaving, dangling breasts. She licked her lips, tasting the come. A younger pack member had come right up to the pair, the alpha either not seeming to care or notice. The smaller worg was only slightly less endowed than its leader- In its excitement it had come prematurely, spurting its load on the cavern floor.

Coherent enough to do so, Kiri beckoned to it, the younger worg awkwardly turning about until its hindquarters faced her, seemingly understanding her intentions. Kiri shifted her weight to her left hand and eagerly grabbed for the anxious worg penis. Most of its load was all over the rocks, but Kiri sucked it for all she was worth. Slurping hard, she sucked and swallowed the last drops as the stream subsided. Despite the smaller size, the cock was still ponderous- the balls still swollen enough with cum to give Kiri another good meal.

A low rumble from the pack leader’s throat urged the other backward, and Kiri fell forward, ass impaled as the knot swelled inside her vagina again. Face to the wet and sticky cave floor, she lapped hungrily at the spilled worg seed, taking it in both ends at once as her cunt bloated with semen once more. Among the wet lapping of her tongue, thick drops of semen splattered loudly to the stone between her knees, where it squirted out around the gigantic cock spearing her tortured cunt. After a long while the huge worg’s knot deflated and finally withdrew, dumping a loud splash of semen on the cavern floor.


It was only a matter of time before their activities roused some of the pack and another large male approached her. Feeling the weight of the worg on her back and the front legs around her chest, Kiri looked down between her skinny thighs and could see the stiffening cock dangling, dripping with even more pre-cum and pus. The gusset of her plastic underpants bulged with the swollen meat within; cunt lips bruised and battered, the worg's penis sliding smoothly on the material where it stretched between her tight buttocks. The pack was sitting up and watching, and Kiri screamed once again: The worg’s hindquarters tensed then lunged. The swollen red cock thrust, spearing her. Dawn seemed like it was a minor eternity away… 

Kiri: Worg-Rider in the Tharunian Wastes, Part II [WARNING: GRAPHIC]

As the road pressed eastward, she noticed odd, bluish and mossy growth bordered close on the road at various points, clearly tapping an unseen water source, and she had to pick through the edge of the flora to stay off the road itself. Some of the cries of the creatures were quite chilling, sounding familiar but subtly different. She paused dead in her tracks as a huge worg leapt from the undergrowth. Spotted and striped it was over tan fur, a desert variety of worg it was.


She was shocked by its appearance, being either diseased or perhaps even decaying from some serious ailment, but it was clearly no simple worg upon inspection. Yellow eyes fixed wide and fierce on her, framing wide grinning jaws set with discolored fangs, but Kiri's eyes went immediately to its thick, heavy member projecting between its rear legs, brightly discolored and infected. Despite the fact it was slick with something nasty, Kiri had a perverse thought of having that thing between her legs…or slurping eagerly on it with lips parted. She moved slightly back as it spiraled closer in to its prey, unsure of its total intentions. If it did not intend to eat her, she was not necessarily opposed to a fuck with the thing. She had to admit she'd never mated with a worg, normal or otherwise, but was more concerned what diseases the thing was packing in its turgid cock along with its cum.

This beast however did seem a worg, but some uncommonly diseased breed of worg. Based on the stink of the thing, even at this many paces, it might have been an undead. Unlike their wolf brethren, they hailed from a deep epoch in prehistory, large and virile, rumored to be even more fecund. This one certainly seemed to have the right equipment for an alpha male. Despite their bestial appearance, wargs had a language of their own, and were rumored to have a simple society. Like their smaller wolf brethren they often moved in packs. They hunted, they fed, and they were often on the prowl for a new pack bitch.


She licked her lips again as she noted a dribble of premature come glistening on the head of the massive cock. Full lips that were often pursed licentiously, smeared thickly with brilliant red, lipstick.


Kiri had not drawn her weapon, trying to appear as non-threatening as she could, while trying to determine if it was looking for fresh food or sex. She studied its clouded eyes as it closed in, trying to judge its disposition, but found it increasingly hard not to linger on that perilously huge canine cock. Kiri was trembling from a mixture of fright and excitement over her situation, and her body was rapidly preparing itself for sex. The lupine penis was turgid and flaring crimson, mottled with dark veins. It was covered with sores, many of which were leaking pus. It was thoroughly disgusting, but Kiri found her eyes fixed firmly on that cock, licking her lips hungrily. The urge to suck a mouthful of seed from the massive thing made her salivate, even to lap at the pus sliming the massive thing; she felt a gathering warmth in her crotch from the mere thought of being impaled on the thing.




The worg lowered its head, moving slowly forward a couple steps. Large nostrils flared, the sound of whiffing as it took in her scent. Again, was it smelling fresh meat or her wet sex? A sonorous rumble came from its throat, powerful but not entirely alarming.

Kiri cried in terror as the worg was upon her with alarming speed, and felt herself fall under its momentum. Her honed reactions as a female fighter finally urged her blade from its sheath with a loud, quick hiss, but she never got to use it. She quickly found herself on her back on the spongy wet ground of the marsh, with the worg on top of her.


It was easily two or three times her own weight, and between its sheer mass and its bestial strength, the blonde barbarian slave was pinned absolutely helpless underneath it. With the sizable paws pressing atop her shoulders, Kiri was afforded minimal use of her arms; certainly not enough to be able to defend herself, the fingers of her right hand only lightly gripping the leather wrapping of her sword hilt, She turned her head to one side and closed her eyes, cowering in terror as she felt the teeth sink into her right shoulder. She felt the blood well up around the piercing fangs, but the worg was large and powerful enough that Kiri knew it could tear her arm off it so wished. The fact that it elected to keep her pinned and gnaw on her bared flesh seemed to indicate it was establishing its dominance over her. She felt the warmth through the fur, the hot jaws…it was most certainly not undead, but it was riddled with seeping maladies.

Well that was easy enough, Kiri reflected. She had every intention of letting the worg and have its way with her…not that she would have been able to anything about it had she thought otherwise. The bestial growling was accompanied by her own terrified and aroused whimpering as the worg continued to gnaw at her. Thoroughly the masochist, the pain soon had her eager, the sight of her blood welling up around the warg’s teeth only intensifying the experience for her. The jaws clamped like iron, tormenting and frightening. Forgetting any intentions of retrieving her weapon, she turned her palms upward, holding still and offering her complete surrender and submission.


Briefly the jaws released, and the head raised, but still Kiri dared not move. Her fingers ever so lightly felt the hilt of her sword, but she made no effort to use it.


The worg’s back arched, and the massive head lowered once more, the snout settling between her legs, the nostrils flaring once more with heavy inhalation as it pressed deeply into the wide crotch of her white plastic briefs . There could be no question what the creature wanted now, and Kiri spread her thighs widely, relieved that she might not be immediately torn to shreds and eaten, but now quivering with fearful anticipation, a pleasant gathering sensation in her lubricating cunt that she was about to actually feel and perhaps even taste that enormous swollen wolf cock. Gingerly squirming her hips so to prevent a sudden attack, she gradually spread her thighs wider.

Spread them wider...


More....


More. Until it began to hurt.


More, until the tendons in her inner thighs cramped and ached, trained as bowstrings, leaving the wide crotch of her plastic briefs pulled taut between them. The elastic leg holes dug into the flesh around the tops of her thighs, holding the briefs crackling tight and big on her hips. The waterproof plastic within the borders of the huge, curved crotch seam was pulled into deep puckers that gathered at the edge of the leg hole elastic. Pulled in long, flat creases that stretched the entire, wide girth of the crotch. 

Many a times this had been the exact scene; Kiri on her back and utterly helpless, crotch spread wide open to an attacker. A readied sword blade or hatchet, or a sharpened spear...all too often having made the gruesome penetration sought by both attacker and victim.






Now she felt the weight of the worg's hindquarters lowering between her own legs until she could feel the matted and wiry fur against her thighs. She felt the heavy and turgid cock thump against the inside of her left thigh, then felt the large head pushing hard against the crotch of her white plastic briefs. Kiri glanced down to see that the pre-cum was leaking heavily from it, thickened and whitened with oozing pus like souring milk, dribbling thickly on the gusset of her waterproof underpants, pooling in the creases of the tightly stretched vinyl plastic, the head of the cock gliding wetly over the slick material. She was relieved to see that the worg was interested in sex and not devouring her just yet, and by now her body was thoroughly aroused and ready to receive it. In her panic the slave girl had wet herself and the taut material yellowed around the probing member, surging with tepid urine.

Kiri was rather surprised that she was not mounted on all fours and taken from behind like a female worg, but rather the thing was intent on violating her face to face. She was contented; the penetration would be much more intimate this way and she would be especially more helpless in this position. It was that very real sense of absolute helplessness that had her channel slick and oozing, waiting for the worg’s cock.



She maneuvered her hand down to the crotch of her plastic briefs, her fingers sliding in the worg's fouled ejaculate, feeling the pressure of the cock intensifying on her. Between the tight, elastic leg banding of her undergarment, the wide gusset was pulled taut into many folds and creases; each one of them a hollow where the dribbling worg semen and pus pooled relentlessly, filling every pucker in the leakproof material before runneling in streams over her lower buttocks, pooling on the ground beneath her. Her urine flooded into the crotch, soaking and staining the rubbery elastic yellow where it seeped out, bubbling in the pre-cum that slimed the leg holes. Only that much more of the sticky seed that would be pumped into her, once penetration was achieved. She had heard more than one rumor on how often such a creature could cum; forcefully, and in tremendous quantity.


She reached up and took hold of a heavy testicle the size of a small melon…felt around until she had found the base of the swollen cock. No doubt at all that the worg would be able to cum profusely, those gnarled testes hung low and heavy, engorged with worg semen. She could only partially wrap her fingers about the base of the cock where it protruded from the thick knot common to dog penises, but began to stroke it as best she could, feeling the nauseating slickness of the pus running from numerous sores on it, and knew that would make the well lubricated cock enter her that much easier. Finding a way to turn the situation more positive, Kiri knew the sex was going to be very messy and enjoyable. Her fingers pulled at the right leg hole of the briefs; slick with cum the digits slipped several times, releasing the taut elastic several times on the inside of her thigh before getting purchase on it. Getting two fingers under the tight leg banding, she tugged the crotch to one side with a loud crackle of stretched, wet plastic.

Once again the jaws relaxed, releasing her. The low howl rumbled from its throat as worg cock met human cunt, and found it both pleasing and more than ready for it.

Kiri cried anxiously, helplessly as swollen penis instantly found her orifice, and she felt the large head spread her wide and push inward, her urine streaming warmly from her plastic briefs. Lifting her hips somewhat, she pushed herself against the tip until it popped snugly into her cunt, holding her hips still for the inevitability of it, with all the resign of a condemned awaiting the thrust of an impaling spear.

“Ohhhh!!”, the skinny slave cried throatily, impaled, her sword slipping from her reach completely. She no longer cared; Kiri’s only thoughts were on her need to be defeated and raped.

The thrusting member had found her cunt yawning ready and well-lubricated, wasting no time, it rammed up inside her. She reflexively drew her legs up and spread her thighs widely, her hand returning to the throbbing shaft to help urge it in, but there was no need, she had been well penetrated. As the worg began to enter her, Kiri withdrew her hand to her mouth, her fingers glistening with the ejaculate. She licked and suckled at her fingers, taking in the odd flavor of the stuff, her mind reeling with the fact that was actually mating with a worg, but she was far too excited by the experience to go back now, and was only concerned with continuing and completing the rape.

With a fierce thrust of its mangy hindquarters, the worg rammed its dripping cock deep, brutally deep, with absolutely no thought to her distress, and total focus on its needs and pleasure, forcing an agonized scream of pain from the collared and pantied slave’s crimson red lips. Oh, it hurt SO bad, but it was such a good, satisfying hurt! She screamed and moaned as each powerful thrust slammed her hips against the ground, the backside of her white plastic briefs dragging loudly over the gravely sand. The cock’s knot was resting right up against her inner lips, slapping against them with each thrust. With each and every lunge it forced pre-cum from her gash. Cum, pus and lubrication made a nasty, wet sucking sound as the enormous red wolf meat glided in and out of her eager slave’s slit. The leg elastic was pulled tight around the shaft, producing a taut, slick sound as the organ pistoned in and and out of her, the elastic popping and snapping as it rolled and stretched against the cock. Rubber elastic that was now darkering with blood; her blood that spattered in droplets from the cunt-splitting penetration: The worg's cock was like having a wooden pole hammered up her bleeding channel.

 
Kiri turned her head until she was looking at the fearsome jaws of the worg. Its breath was atrocious and reeked of decay and rotted meat, but she was much too aroused to care. Pushing the feral stink of the creature and the thought of the awful diseases that were surely was being injected into her out of her mind, she focused on the exciting prospect of the primal and bestial sex she was having. Trying to control her fear, she looked up at the clouded eyes and the gnashing teeth, licking her lips until they were wet and glistening, and mere inches from the gleaming teeth, pursed invitingly to her attacker. For a brief moment the slobbering tongue, dripping with foamy saliva met her lips. Tasting the wet smack on her mouth, her tongue anxiously met it, slashing about each other in what might have amounted to a moment of tender intimacy shared with the creature.


Oh gods! If only some of her old companions could see her now! Kiri, Tharunian, barbarian slave-whore. Collared Bitch of Loviatar. Torture Slave of Veela. Rider of the Worg Penis. What a thrillingly helpless path destiny had thrown her!


Kiri cried aloud as the worg drove harder and harder inside her, thrusting with bestial obsession, the slimy and infected cock forcing itself savagely and rupturing her cunt until a burst of blood spurted  out. Despite her looseness, the massive member split her open agonizingly and the pain brought the licentious naked slave to the brink of orgasm. Kiri brought up her legs to wrap them about the narrowest portion of its body, pulling her hips snug against its haunches as she screams from the throes of a powerful and pain-wracked climax. Now the blood came; flowing fresh, warm and thick in steady rivulets. For most women it would have been sheer torture, but she was Kiri the collared Tharunian .

She had endured the worst of torture at hands of tribes on Tharun. She’d endured crucifixion at the hands of Veela, stripped to her collar and white plastic briefs as she was now, cruel rusted steel spikes hammered into her wrists and ankles, leaving her writhing screaming in agony on a wooden T-post for the amusement of her captors. She had known what true pain was. This level of pain and blood only drove her into mad, delirious excitement.


A rational corner of her mind was still questioning her moment of passion with the sickly worg, but she was too overwhelmed by her excitement to give it a second thought. Much of the blonde slave’s brain was nearly as bestial as the impaling worg’s; just as eager to slake savage lusts through helpless sex here in the wild lands of the wastes. She was screaming from the snapping teeth nipping at her, and soon the surrounding valley echoed with the worg’s howl, accompanied by Kiri’s painfully excited screams of helplessness…nearly as incoherent and animalistic as her assailant. The worg’s knot pushed in between her cunt lips and swelled. 


The thrusting ceased; the bulb of the worg’s cock had distended to its maximum size, and Kiri screamed, held and impaled. The beast then tensed and held still, and she felt the warm rush: A stream, no, a veritable flood of hot cum was spurting and splashing onto her cervix, filling her blood-flooded cunt. With a hoarse scream she finally came, desperately clinging to the fur of her rapist.

As the warg’s penis held her and pumped, the cries came back to them, echoing from the nearby wastes. The howls and cries of the victorious and vanquished.

The worg, victor, and declaring its mastery as it came profusely. The collared slave, crying out her climax and submission. For both of them, an apex of life had been reached in the harsh Tharunian wastes, both fulfilling their role as nature had intended. Kiri could not imagine being anywhere else .


Now, sex with such a beast was not a quick or easy thing. Even a common dog would lock its mate in place with the swollen knot of its cock, but the worg’s member was much larger; not quite the size of a small horse. Its massive weight and strength held her unquestionably in a position of helplessness and openness. She couldn’t even begin to consider escape. By then, Kiri knew she hadn’t the slightest interest in escape, mad with arousal and lust. All she wanted was to fuck and fuck with the worg…if only she’d known sex with the beast as going to be this-


Oh gods…THIS GOOD!


And for a very long there she lay, with that huge slimy thing impaling her pantied hips, gushing its warm seed into her and filling her. Wallowing in an ocean of painful excitement, she was cooing and crying helplessly, coming down from the heights of her first brutally forced orgasm, but swiftly being pushed toward the next. Wrapping her legs snugger about the haunches, she pressed her crotch tightly into the mass of tangled wiry pubic hair and laid back as the cock pumped and pumped again, then holding again to deliver a heavy spray of come. A second time Kiri came, crying helplessly as the worg cock nailed her hips to the ground and held them there.


And pumped and pumped and pumped. Spurting and spurting…it was shocking, so beastly obscene how much come was being forced into her! By her third climax, Kiri was cursing like a whore in a pier-side alehouse.


“Nnnhhh….UnnhhHH!! FUCK Kiri! FUCK KIRI GODS DAMNIT!!!”



Perhaps an hour had passed, perhaps more, and to the barbarian slave it became a minor eternity, wallowing in the pain and delirious excitement, all the while savoring that wonderful, wonderful feeling of loads of hot cum filling her ass. Five times the beast had spiked her to the ground and held her there as the come came hot and fierce. Five times she had screamed in the throes of raped orgasm like she’d never known it.




Finally, it was over. She was shuddering with pain and pleasure as the worg pulled back and out of her, squirting streams of its cum over her quivering body. Thick and milky, heavy ropes of the stuff ran from the swollen red head of the cock to her yawning cunt, streamed and marbled with bright red from her blood. She could only lay there shuddering, absolutely ravaged by the feelings tearing through her body. The pain and the gratification produced a weakness that was difficult to imagine- all her muscles felt like jelly, unable to summon more than a painful spasm from them. Only her lungs worked properly- overworked as she gasped and gulped for air to burn from the exertion.


After a time, she had lifted her slimy fingers to her face, tasting the creature's obscenity once again. Kiri was licking the worg’s come from her fingers as another pair of eyes came into view. That would be the first of the worg pack. At behest of the pack leader she was left alone…for now. As the hazy sun settled toward the shoulder between two mountain peaks she was taken off the path and deeply across the wasteland, until the pack’s cave was reached... 

Kiri: Worg-Rider in the Tharunian Wastes, Part I [WARNING: GRAPHIC]

Disclaimer: The following story was posted just under a year ago on a fanfic board, where it was well-received. As my character origin thread has met only positive feedback so far, I repost it here.

This story includes graphic content including hardcore sex, violence, horror and bestiality. If these things are not your cup of tea, scroll no further down. However, if ye be a perverse follower true to the dark glory that was and is Acheron, read on.

 

 

 

Stuttering winds swept over the rocky wasteland, pushing ahead of the grim, amber clouds laden with sand churning between hoodoos and rock spire, bearing a threatening look that hinted of a full-fledged sandstorm. Cactus and ancient, dead trees swayed in the breeze, now and then the shifting winds collaborated to form rippling waves over the surface of the sand on either side of the pebble and broken cobblestone road .

Kiri. Tharunian slave and harlot. She had left her steed at the last outpost in the care of the border guard, having ridden there from the previous village not long past daybreak. From here, stealth was much more needed than speed, and she went on foot, her rogue’s skill allowing her to shadow the trail as she followed it, a hazy reddish sun flickering through the blanketing clouds at her back. She had been sent out here to watch the movements of the ever-restless Lurker tribes. The main trail was passed over here and there by smaller game trails. Hares and various fauna leaping or scuttling from cactus to cactus, from brush to rock.

At one time she had been spied by a worg on the prowl. For a lingering moment the worg’s gaze met her own blue-gray eyes. It was off a fair distance on the hillside where it inclined up the side of the valley, but close enough to reach her in one rushing charge if it chose to do so.

Casually she reached over her shoulder, slipping slender fingers about the hilt of her sword where it rested in its sheath between her bare shoulder blades, hanging from the chain baldric wrapped over her right shoulder and strapped securely between bared breasts, nipples dangling long and erect as they faced the sandy abrasion of the desert winds.

Finally the worg moved on, and her wrapped hide boots contoured the ground to just one side of the trail, avoiding the frequent patches of loose sand and the footprints they might leave. Metal bracers fastened on her wrists, her right upper arm sporting a silver-gilt armband, and a thick steel collar was clamped tightly on her pale throat. A thin strip of rubber elastic enclosed her waist, pulling tight a pair of white vinyl plastic briefs, the wide crotch of which was pulled tightly between her legs and stretched over firm buttocks. Salted from her sweat and stained and yellowed with urine. It was all the barbarian slave wore.

Platinum blonde locks draped over the silvered, metal circlet on her head, which Kiri brushed aside idly as she surveyed the land ahead and behind. One time she had spied a group of men; a Lurker patrol and there were four of them, making their way west. She would have to make note of that to village’s chieftain, but today it was her goal to reach the outskirts of the Lurker settlements; over a good league away in the wastes. Little did she suspect she was not going to make it there on this day. The ground was growing a bit flatter, receding from the lower rock formations.

 

Inceptions and Beginnings…

Regarding content and intellectual property

I'll start this blog off with the disclaimer that although I am referring to it as a Wiki, it's only so far a source site, but not open source site (editable by others), as Kiri is strictly my own. While some of her content appears in third party intellectual properties, including but not excluded to, Dungeons & Dragons and Robert E. Howard's Hyborian Age, Star Wars, and Paragon Studio's City of Heroes, Kiri herself and her friends, allies and villains are my own intellectual property; that of Phan-Phoe. Likewise, the worlds of Anaron, Symbion and Tharun, and related worlds, domains and dimensions, including G-Space, are my own IP. This is why I chose a blog format over a Wikia, but nonetheless, bloggers are certainly invited to critique or otherwise comment on this original content.

Kiri on the desolate, post-apocalyptic world of Tharun. Armed with only a sword, she wears her customary, metal slave fetters and is clad only in white plastic, full-cut briefs.

Regarding the Eternal Doomed Champion

While my original blog, Nemedian Hot-Pants Across Hyboria is thus far strictly about Hyborian Kiri, there are many versions or incarnations of Kiri, that have been collectively referred to as the Eternal Doomed Champion, and her various allies and companions. The term is an amalgamation of the Eternal Champion, in which classical fantasy author Micheal Moorcock wrote many novels of Elric of Melniboné, and other aspects of the Eternal Champion, and a warrior archetype introduced in 2nd Edition Dungeons & Dragons quite some years back, called the Doomed Champion, and without much doubt the D&D archetype was likely modeled on Moorcock's work.

The Eternal Champion is summarized as this; (Wikipedia quote) "The fictional Multiverse, which consists of several universes, many layered dimensions, spheres, and alternative worlds, is the place where the eternal struggle between Law and Chaos, the two main forces of Moorcock's worlds, takes place. In all these dimensions and worlds, these forces constantly war for supremacy. Since the victory of Law or Chaos would cause the Multiverse either to become permanently static or totally formless, the Cosmic Balance enforces certain limits which the powers of Law and Chaos violate at their peril. Law, Chaos, and the Balance are active, but seemingly non-sentient, forces which empower various champions and representatives.

"The Eternal Champion, a Hero who exists in all dimensions, times and worlds, is the one who is chosen by fate to fight for the Cosmic Balance; however, he often does not know of his role, or, even worse, he struggles against it, never to succeed. Since his role is to intervene when either Law or Chaos have gained an excess of power, he is always doomed to be surrounded by strife and destruction, although he may go through long periods of relative quiet."


The Doomed Champion is just that; a champion who has some manner of fate, curse or related upon him or her, the nature of which is often designed in the game campaign between player and Dungeon Master.


Whereas the differences with my Eternal Doomed Champion is she is not separate and distinct heroines such as Elric and his other manifestations. In all worlds and time lines she is Kiri; a female human blond that typically is proficient with swords or other bladed weapons, sometimes with a bow, or more rarely, a firearm of some manner. She almost always wears a metal slave collar and other accouterments of her bondage, for she is often a slave or former slave, these commonly include metal bracelets and anklets. Whether or not Kiri is actually enslaved or not, the instruments of her bondage are ultimately tools of her helplessness. Kiri's helplessness is a very central part of her existence, and in the majority of situations that befall her, she is absolutely powerless.

Her garments are always extremely brief, pun intended, for she is always barefoot and topless, wearing only hot pants, briefs, bottoms or a breechcloth that is fitting for the world she inhabits. In the majority of these worlds, her sole article of clothing is a waterproof pair of white plastic, full-cut briefs. This undergarment eventually became the trademark for the character, so much so that for a time, at least Original Kiri and Tharun Kiri are known in some worlds simply by the name Plasticpants or Rubberpants. Original Kiri eventually became widely known on Anaron as Plasticpants the Penetrated; her reputation as easily defeated was known in nearly all charted lands.

Worshiper and Slave of the Plastic Panty

In the rocky desert flats of Narux, Tharun Kiri would find her way to the mystic Caverns of Pan-Ti, allegedly lead there by a vision or dream of her patron goddess Loviatar. The winding caverns under a smallish rocky outcropping would gradually wind to a number of ovoid caverns, where a chosen female victim would be gifted with a pair of panties of a specific color and style appropriate to her, often along with other items, including sometimes the gifting of a weapon that would aid her on the general path to her ultimate defeat. Like Kiri, all females given knowledge of the caverns are destined to defeat, and reaching the specific cavern selected for her results in a sealing of her doom.

In Kiri's case, she was commanded by Loviatar to obtain  the ultimate panty in the caverns; a pair of white plastic briefs, and to wear them to the exclusion of all else. Along with the briefs, she was given a slave collar, and a set of slave bracelets and anklets, all of cumbersome and unbreakable, silvered metal. She was given her Sunblade sword, Goldfire, found upon a mysterious rune-carved pedestal along with the slave outfit.

Allegedly, others accompanied her to the Caverns of Pan-Ti' driven by similar visions or cryptic messages to its whereabouts. This included Shayleen, a blonde, half-elven female fighter, who received a pair of red plastic full-cut briefs, a collar, shackles and twin short swords of gleaming, golden metal. Two other unnamed heroines received similar; a pair of green rubber pants and a pair of golden, magically replenishing bullets for the former, and a silvered collar and bracelets and blue rubber panty briefs with white stars for the second girl.

All four were eventually sent on to their individual dooms after this fateful meeting, but temporarily ran afoul of a sardonic brunette Enchantress known as Veela, known for wearing a pair of gleaming, black plastic briefs, seemingly in direct opposition to Kiri's white panty briefs, to whom she would prove a recurring villain that demonstrated she could locate and defeat Kiri with ease at any time, which she frequently did.

'

Kiri's customary white plastic briefs have brutally tight, thin waistband and leg hole rubber elastic, which chafes and cuts extremely painfully, along with a wide, over-sized gusset which sports a prominent and enlarged, curved crotch seam. While fitting crushingly tight on the genitals, the gusset is rubberized vinyl and tightly expandable to over twice its size, allowing for the containment of large amounts of blood, urine and feces; useful as Kiri commonly urinates in her white plastic briefs. The wide crotch also allows for insertion of the vaginal and anal worms commonly found on Tharun and other worlds, tight and leak-proof enough to contain the slime and other waste fluids the worms produce. The crotch can contain over a quart of fluid if needed. Tharun Kiri commonly plays the role of willing host and victim to the parasitic vaginal worms. The enlarged crotch makes Kiri's genitals a conspicuous and extremely inviting target; the briefs greatly increase the wearer's chances of a genital or anal injury. The elastic pulls the briefs so taut to the point they are painfully uncomfortable to wear. The thick, rubberized plastic shell is hot, sweaty, constrictive and suffocating. Greatly humiliating for Kiri, as even she has noted the briefs are purposefully designed to hurt, she is reduced to an easily-defeated pantywaist when stripped to the briefs, which makes them intensely sexually exciting for her to wear. Designed to be physically perfect, specifically, the perfect cursed panty, they ensure the continuous defeat of Kiri. Fully aware of the doom they bring her, they are Kiri's single-most prized possession, she regards them as an object of reverence and worship. Among some female warrior and slave cults of Anaron and Tharun, briefs of this design are considered holy or sacred; the females that wear them often do so willingly as pious martyrs of one pain and suffering-centered faith or another.

 

 

Kiri is attired with a necklace, headband and armlet, in addition to her slave bracelets and slave collar; all of which are made of bulky metal. Her briefs consist of thick white plastic; rigid and stiff, and are completely leak-proof.

The Victim of the Prophecy: A Road of Endless Suffering

Kiri has no pivotal role in Law versus Chaos, or any other battle of cosmic forces. Kiri exists solely to fulfill a singular need; a requirement for a world or dimension to have a defeated female champion that will endure and suffer the most extreme of pains and torments. This is a destined fate for her, but not one of any true cosmic significance. Fate has simply determined that she must suffer.

Sexuality for Kiri almost always involves pain; pain and sex are nearly inseparable for her, and typically she requires pain to climax. She is most often a willing sexual object, but is also a frequent rape victim. Even in cases of rape, Kiri's response is to offer not the slightest resistance, and accept the violation and torment her body is subjected to. Her situation is complicated by the fact that Kiri is technically bi-sexual but has stronger lesbian leanings. All other things being equal, she prefers a female sex partner, and a woman holding her leash. her tendency is to gravitate toward strong and heartless women that abuse her without mercy, as Kiri fully realizes she deserves to be mistreated in this manner. In addition, Kiri is an avid devotee of bestiality, enjoying sex with creatures of many types, but once again this pursuit is for sexual encounters that cause her the most pain.

In at least several universes, she is the helpless plaything of a goddess, whose portfolio is pain, suffering and torture. In the case of Original Kiri, who may or may not be the truly first version of Kiri, she is subject to the absolute power of the torture goddess Loviatar, who in the prehistoric depths of time entered a trifling wager with the Nordic goddess Sif. Sif would lose this wager, and as a result had to forfeit one of her best mortal, female champions; handing her over to Loviatar's sadistic depravities. The crucial stipulation in this wager was that the female victim had to be someone who would willingly and eagerly want to suffer at Loviatar's hands. Sif realized no such champions of hers existed, however, the goddesses consulted the Norns, who informed her that such a doomed female champion would indeed be born, albeit thousands of years later. This time delay in collecting the prize of the wager was something of an oversight on Loviatar's part, and she was furious over this, but the torture goddess was eventually patient. In the fullness of time, Kiri would be born to the multiverse. One of the most dreadful and torturous fates of known beings in the planar multiverse was about to begin.

For the Kiri that lived during the Hyborian Age of Conan the Cimmerian, known as Hyborian Kiri, the Goddess was still Loviatar, or at least an aspect of Loviatar called Louhi, who on the world Oerth was known as the evil sorceress Iggwilv. There may or may not be a connection between Iggwilv and a sardonic, brunette sorceress named Veela the Enchantress, who is a slave mistress and torturer of Original Kiri, known to have frequently defeated Kiri, always with superb ease and extreme humiliation. This is of especial note, as Original Kiri for a time inhabited Oerth.

Kiri is always a soul deliciously bound to her fate; once she learns of it, despite any initial hesitation or trepidation, she soon accepts, then eventually comes to desire her fate. Her process is always similar to the five classic stages of grief; 1) Denial 2) Anger 2) Bargaining 4) Depression 5) Acceptance.

The five stages of the Eternal Doomed Champion are thusly different: 1) Denial/Bargaining 2) Acceptance 3) Longing 4) Questing 5) Fulfillment.

In the initial stage, Kiri is either in a stage of shock or disbelief upon learning of her fate. This is almost always quickly followed by acceptance and longing. Finally, her life path enters a phase of questing; constant seeking of ways to reach her doom, and then final fulfillment as she eagerly reaches her doom and accepts it. There is never a phase of anger or depression for Kiri, as she always comes to the realization that she is supremely privileged to have been chosen as the victim of her fate. By the point of the questing phase she is nearly or fully in the role of the willing martyr.

Original Kiri: Standing Powerless Before Darkness, Clad in White Nylon Briefs

'Stepping from the boots and scandalously short skirt, she kicked the clothing away, now standing stripped before the sorceress in only a pair of reflective, white nylon panty briefs. "I surrender to you, Great Veela. You must be allowed to defeat me!"

"You must be allowed to defeat me!" This is a classic and defining quote from the three decade Kiri saga that established a crucial paradigm for the Eternal Doomed Champion. Even at times when she had established power or victory in a given situation, notably in this old text from her homeworld of Anaron, where she could have banished Veela the Enchantress, to the dismay of her friends, Kiri does away with the artifact sword Starblade by tossing it into a Sphere of Annihilation, which would have given her true power. Instead, she willingly hands herself over to Veela, with the heavy but eager realization that Veela needs to defeat her, in order for Kiri to remain on the proper path to her doom. Displaying her body completely vulnerably before Veela and her bloodthirsty minions, clad only in the white nylon briefs, Kiri surrenders unconditionally, begging piteously with her captor to torture her.

Original Kiri and Tharun Kiri, very likely the same version of the Eternal Doomed Champion, began thier adventuring career, delving into the deepest and most dangerous dungeons, wearing only perilously thin and light full-cut, white nylon briefs as shown here. It was original Kiri, clad only in such a pair of panty briefs, that willingly forsook her chance of total victory over her nemesis, Veela the Enchantress, instead surrendering and handing herself over to absolute helplessness, would willingly suffer grisly and mutilating torture.

As a result of this deliberate choice, Kiri would suffer excruciating torture, and most of her friends would also share her fate, suffering alongside her. Soon afterward, several longtime companions including Katrina and Toola learn to enjoy their torture nearly as much as Kiri.

This establishes a second paradigm; in most worlds, Kiri has one or several close companions that become entangled in her fate. Some of these companions, always female but not always human, sometimes are of a similar temperament to Kiri, and are nearly as eager to suffer as Kiri is. Some of these, including Una are 'closet' masochists or martyrs who at first grudgingly endure suffering at Kiri's side, but eventually come accept and deal with their desires to suffer hurt, acting on them similarly to Kiri.

Una represented the tamer end of these wanton companions of Kiri, being an enthusiast for bondage and spanking, breast torture and occasional cunt-bashing.  Toola, a stocky blonde known for wearing an iron slave collar and white rubber pants, was as much a zealot for full-blown torture as Kiri, on more than one occasion accepting circumstances where her breasts and genitals were severely mutilated.

On her homeworld of Anaron, there existed another fated blond warrior, who may or may not in some way be related to Kiri. Silvercrotch the Pan'Tian, a female fighter of similar appearance and skinny build to Kiri, and her more stockily-built companion, Hipishia, both of the amazon island of Pan'Ti. This duo might be an original inception of Kiri and Una, or may have their own fate. What is known is that Silvercrotch and her cousin Katrina both were condemned to True Pain; a sentence of infinite pain in the Bi-Agonies of a frighteningly alien and slime-riddled dimension.

Rubberpants the Reamed: An Eager Defeat in Lampyre

In an intermediate stage of her costume, Original Kiri would take to wearing white rubber pants at some point before her arrival in Dementlieu for a very extended 'weekend in Hell' in the Demiplane of Dread. Her adventures through several domains, and encountering myriad terrifying creatures, all occurred with with Kiri wearing no more than the rubber pants. In domains such as Dementlieu, Falkovnia and Lamordia, Kiri's rubber pants were an extreme curiosity. These cultures were generally familiar with rubber, but not with such sophisticated use of the material to produce such clothing as her briefs. Her general state of undress attracted the attention (and often wrath) of conservative elements in these lands, but combined with wearing of the white rubber pants made her a frequent spectacle.

Her adventure through The Core (the central continent in the demiplane), and through multiple 'Islands of Terror' with a misfit party of adventurers, came to a brutal climax (in every sense) with their arrival in Lampyre 'the Ravenous'; a surreal and terrible desert domain not on standard charts in The Core, in the final chapters of the first book of adventure entitled Beyond the Misty Veil. Kiri would end up standing alone, before the might and horror of an entire domain, unarmed and powerless, clad only in her slave collar and white rubber pants, yet would prevail.


The party had arrived in Lampyre after being 'Mistlead' through the impenetrable Ravenloft Mists from Dementlieu, encountering the domain on the eve of the Great Game and Festival that large numbers of women flocked to Lampyre to participate in. In the words of Lord Augustus Krinn, the presiding Dark Lord of Lampyre, the Festival "called out to a certain type of person". The women that journeyed to the domain did so with the full understanding that they were handing themselves over to be brutally tortured and put to death. The usually vacuous Kiri nonetheless possessed ample street smarts to quickly divine the nature of Lampyre, and realized she had to participate in the Festival at all costs.

A gathering of the female contestants for the Festival would determine the robustness and stamina of the women, selecting those that would suffer the most for the longest duration when tortured, for the terrifying and surreal bio-mechanical machinery that ran Lampyre needed that suffering as its fuel.

Among the dozens of women that survived the trip through the great and desolate Grimsby Desert outside Lampyre's encircling walls, Morela Juárez was among the house favorites for the city lords and nobles, and the Little Sisters of the Divine Agony; the unholy convent which organized and conducted the torture of the martyrs. Close to two meters tall, broad and stocky with thick, dark hair, a bit mussed and dirty from the road, hastily twisted into a bun at the back of her head, with ample breasts and hips that cut a very matronly figure. The basic tunic and short skirt of light brown revealing heavy cleavage and thighs. Bits of untended hair covered her armpits and lower legs. The overly short hem revealing the bottom of a snug pair of panty briefs stretched over unwieldy buttocks in the rear, and a fat, distended panty crotch in the front, heavily yellowed with urine, edged in whorls of very thick, protruding pubic hair, around which innumerable reddish welts from sand flies were very visible. Her open leather sandals showed thick toes lightened with sand, and the matron bore a heavy wooden club with clots of hair from something stuck in the business end.

It was obvious to everyone in the ornate dining hall, but Morela quickly sized up Kiri for the skinny and helpless competition she was. Kiri likewise realized the woman easily had several times her strength, and was immediately afraid of her, once Morela had given her a harsh glare and openly showed her disdain.


Lord Krinn showed a clear interest in Kiri, once the collared blonde had spoken up, her heavy brow rumpling in disapproval.

"In fact, all of you should have a part to play in the coming festivities", the gaunt lord with mad eyes proclaimed.

"Really? Kiri would be happy to play her part if she can-" Kiri's curiosity intensified, sensing that she had a strong chance of suffering as well."

"Get her", scoffed Morela. "Arrived later than all the rest of us, and she's already fishing to win. Look here, we didn't travel all the way over the Grmisby, and through that gods-blasted maze, just to be shut out by some dim-witted slu-".

"Miss Juárez, if you please", Krinn interrupted. "All present shall be fairly judged and considered."


Morela looked downcast but clenched her fist a bit tighter about her heavy club. A pallid and slender hand went about her brawny shoulder as Krinn turned his attention to another conversation in the chamber. Dressed in her gaudy, revealing vestments of crimson and black that might have been leather, Sister Luciana gave a thin smile to the larger woman.

"She damned near missed the voting, and already she's being considered?" Her brow furrowed deeper.

"It is of no consequence", Sister Luciana replied knowingly, overlooking the impiety of Morela's justified rave, with a mezzo-soprano voice of soothing authority that seemed to demand obedience. She was slight of build, and almost birdlike in her movements, which all seemed very calculated and measured. Yet she seemed to have a power and dominance to her that made her presence heavy in the chamber.

She moved her hand to Morela's waistline, and tested the flesh with her fingers under a firm squeeze, looking her over in a manner as if she were inspecting livestock. "Remove your traveling clothes please...I shall have a much better look at you." Morela complied and dropped her frayed tunic, quickly disrobing until only the sandals were on her heavy feet, and having revealed she wore nothing beneath but a large pair of stained, blue nylon panty briefs; just above the high waistband of which hung heavy, fleshy breasts of considerable size.

"Ample and corpulent meat...notable strength and stamina. Combat skills observed quite exemplary within the Labyrinth, and upon the Iron Stair. Your substantial place in the festivities is all but assured, Miss Juárez. Your suffering will be unimaginable, your death shall be agonizingly slow. You do understand this, don't you Miss Juárez?"

 "You bet, Sister. I didn't get this far to get bumped from the festival by anyone. I need this pain...just as much your Lords and Sisters do. Life doesn't amount to much at all without a whole lot of suffering to keep it interesting for old Morela. Been waiting for this day pretty much my whole life."


"Rightly so, and for women such as yourself Lampyre calls out for your necessary service. When your time arrives, I will have some of our most skilled Sisters arrange your torture. Your body will require skill, to be butchered properly. Rejoice in the knowledge that you will soon endure this sacrifice...you shall bring tremendous honor upon yourself and that of your village." The sister's hand lowered to Morela's hip, moving gently over the sleek briefs sitting there.

"Your travel clothing will be disposed of, Miss Juárez. You shall have no further need of it. I find your choice of undergarment quite satisfactory", Juliana fingers lingered for a moment over the material at the front of the briefs, where it stretched tightly over the woman's pot belly. "Is is a most serviceable pant. You shall retain the use of it even for your death, if you so wish it."

"I do wish it, thanks a bunch for your generosity."

"We understand that the devout often come with accoutrements they wish to wear for their ordeal, typically undergarments are requested. The Houses and the Convent take no issue with this, as we clearly understand the devout often derive satisfaction from this. It is important that they eventually embrace and enjoy their torment, and for some, ensuring their 'getting off' on their competing makes for the best sacrificing.

"Well, truth be told I brought them for that reason, but not much chance of running now, with only these to wear in the desert outside. Is that it?"

"If you like", Luciana replied with a warmer grin. "But understand those gathered will wish to appraise you as well. You do, however, have commitments now that must be fulfilled." 

The heavy-bodied brunette nodded reassuringly, resting two thick fists on her hips and against the tall side seams of her blue panty briefs. "Don't you worry Sister. Old Morela ain't never ran from a challenge back home, and she sure ain't going to start now. You just get me up on that torture rack of yours, or whatever it is you've planned, Sister, and I'll do all the hard work from there. I swear you'll get all the show you're all looking for."


A expression of slight pleasantness crossed Luciana's face, lightening the mood of the conversation. "I've never doubted it. It is always pleasant to have the arrival of a parishioner with such fortitude and zeal." Luciana lightly patted the woman's pot belly, fingers tracing the tight creases in the front of her smooth briefs. "While on one hand it shall be a shame to see this fine belly come to ruin, it will be a glorious thing to have you opened from crotch to gut before the ritual blades. But it would be improper of me to divulge further, and ruin the anticipation of the exaltation that is to come.

"As for the dim-witted slut you refer to, she is indeed late to the proceedings, however, she alone had the capacity to get the party she arrived with past the Elder Gate, and she used the Gate most properly. As the truly devout among you should know, that clearly qualifies her to compete, being that she still draws breath."

"Is that so?"

"It is indeed so, Miss Juárez. I trust that as you have gotten this far, you have versed yourself in the Writs of Debasement? 

"Eh? Well, of course I have."

"The second chapter of the Writs of Debasement devote no less than seven verses to the function and proper usage of the Elder Gate. Even Lord Krinn himself believes that despite her frail nature, the girl's sacrifice shall be greatly valued as well. While one of her companions had a fairly keen understanding of the linguistics of the gate sigils, it was the girl herself that seemed to be born into her proper ways to activate the gate, and this is argued to be at least in partial fulfillment of prophecy."

"Prophecy?"

"The Writs of Far Knowledge speak of a series of events, of which are said to foretell the coming of the Dark Cycle. This is a specific yearly cycle, unmarked on the calendars, that once ushered in, will bring great change to Lampyre. At least three of the signs are said to have occurred, at least one of which is believed connected to the girl somehow."

"Well I'll be."


"What are the three signs?", a pert blonde with a hacked short hairdo asked, stepping up with curiosity. She wore a bandeau of scuffed black leather and tan boots that came up just below her knees. A belt of darkened metal was double wrapped about her slim hips, over a pair of high-cut briefs that appeared to be red nylon.


Sister Luciana turned stiffly to regard the other woman, but did so politely and formally. "The first sign is recognized when Ankou looms large over the desert sands, in the sky at the same time as live-giving Ba'al, whereupon it will throw its shadow across Tharun. Our observatorium has confirmed that Ankou is now coming closer with the passing days, rising shortly after dawn." Ankou, The Ghost, as many referred to the tenuously orbiting moon was now racing toward Tharun, and some insisted it would soon block Ba'al, Tharun's blazing red sun, as Luciana cautiously explained to the women. 


"The second sign is that new paths will be opened in the world, and that a band of travelers will appear, said to carry a tremendous danger with them. Some of my fellow Sisters agree the motley group the slut has arrived with are this band, and then there is the girl herself, and the third prophecy. A devout who will come to the Arenalim, but not know she needs to until she has already arrived. One who will know her ways and place in Lampyre as if she had been born to them."

"And you think that's her?", Morella interjected, angling her head in the direction of Kiri.


"We cannot be absolutely certain yet", Luciana hissed in a reduced tone, "but auguries have been performed, and the same warnings result. You and the other devout must be prepared to take on your suffering at a moment's notice, Miss Juárez."


"You can be sure of that, Sister, but what of her?"



"She shall suffer most exquisitely for us, in accordance to prophecy, if the current cycle truly is the Dark Cycle; a matter on which many of the Sisters including myself concur. You are most proper to label her a slut, but a pain-slut would be most correct. She required absolutely no urging to mount the gate-pike, so she too is in the right place. Intemperance is not required of you women as is as willingness and obedience, but fear not, there will ample opportunities for suffering soon enough."


"Understood, Sister", Morela nodded gruffly, glaring sidelong at Kiri once again. Sister Luciana followed her gaze and lowered a voice a bit. 

"As all know, in the lands outside, it is the strongest that usually survive. Here in Lampyre of course, the strong survive longest, at the very least. It is crucial that absolute order is enforced, and even more crucial that the weak understand their place. Sometimes, that requires necessary cruelty, and the rule of law must even turn a blind eye when the populace must impose its own...order. It is quite clear among the both of you on who is superior, Miss Juárez." She followed the declaration up with another glance toward Kiri.


Nodding, a grin replacing her sullenness, Morela understood the implications and the license she had been given, her eyes narrowing as she sized up Kiri once more. Luciana, her lips twisting juicily and cruelly, patted the stout Miss Juárez on her large backside as she moved off to speak with the other Sisters.

The skinny little, interloping slut was definitely going to get hers.


"Get over here", Morela turned to the vagabond blonde, who hesitated but came forward. Morela took hold of her narrow chin with one thick hand. "What's your name, doll?"

"Fanni- it's Fanni. Miss...."

"Morela. But never mind you that. All you need to know is I'm the lady in charge here until it's time for the big show. If you're smarter than you look, you'll do as you're told...understood?"

"Understood-", the girl replied, and Morela felt her swallow hard, her throat moving lightly past her pointer finger. Fanni was legitimately scared, she could see it in her eyes, Morela chuckled to herself. That was good. She feared her, so that meant she controlled the girl.

"Scared?" Morella grinned tightly, rubbing it in.

"Y-yes Ma'am."


"Smart of you. Real smart. As I was saying, I'm the lady that's going to ask you to jump, and you're going to ask me-"


"- how high?", Fanni wheedled.


"Good girl. I'll have a job for you soon. Not just yet, but soon", she dropped her hand, letting the girl go. "Now get your skinny little ass out of here- we'll talk later."


"Yes Ma'am!" Fanni fairly yelped in response, stepping back, visibly relieved that Morela had released her...





The Elder Gate that Augustus Krinn referred to was clearly the horrifying portal that protruded in ornate bas-relief from the otherwise seamless and mirror-smooth wall that cordoned Lampyre off from the outside desert. Towering easily thirty meters above the shifting sands, it was smooth as glass, gleaming black and reflecting back the harsh glare and contours of the distant dunes with a muddled image that boiled in the wavering hot air. Smooth with a feel that seemed harder than steel, but with an appearance that could be described as obsidian. The surface just translucent enough to give an uncanny depth to what reflected in it, and as Kiri thought when she glanced at the monolithic barrier sidelong, hints of worrisome movement that seemed to originate from just beyond the blank face of the wall. 

Around the circular bas-relief, there wasn't the slightest signs of purchase on the black wall, that stretched to either side of them into the pale golden haze, seemingly to each horizon. The very top of the wall, difficult to see from the ground level, seemed to be smooth and featureless as well, with no parapet or other visible defenses. The imposing line of the black wall, in direct contrast to the bright desert outside it, was broken only by a tall slender pylon-shaped towers that stood slightly higher than the crest of the wall, and made of the same material, set in intervals of about every half-kilometer.

The relief carving itself looked like a twisted, eldritch sundial that was clearly poking out of the wall horizontally, rather than aimed skyward. The central spike was long, projecting not quite four meters out; needle sharp on the far end, and not much thicker than her own torso at its base where it jutted from the wall- interestingly, out of the center of the bas-relief, from between the jaws of a grimacing, dark face much like a gargoyle, like an obscene tongue. The mouth was rimmed with shark-like pointed teeth; blunted horns rimmed the thick contours of the skull.

The round relief surrounding the leering face was constructed in concentric rings and spokes perhaps like a simplified spider web, all radiating from the center. Set with glyphs and runs that might have been the numbers on a sundial, but the swirling and otherworldly reliefs also suggested a very large zodiac calendar. 

But the figurines on the wall, some of them skeletal, some of them women, either fully naked or half-naked. Skeletal bird-like things with dragon-like wings. And the torture-


Overlapping, repeated scene of torture. Horrific torture, which was all happening to the nude or half-clad women. All of them in stages of extreme agony and dying, or timidly waiting nearby in fetters...clearly awaiting their turn. 

The linguists among their party had cleaned enough from the pictographs and the runes to understand the circular carving was a gate through the black wall, one that required a sacrifice to open. A blood sacrifice. A sacrifice of pain.


Understanding enough of it all, Kiri instinctively knew she needed to be the sacrifice. Removing the tattered linen robes that had kept the glaring, reddish Sun off her back, she stripped down to her metal slave collar and restraints, setting Mimir her short sword down on the ground and now stripped to naught but her white rubber pants. 

Reaching up for the needle spire, Kiri gained purchase on the lowest rim of the carving with her bared feet, and soon had pulled herself up on the circular face of the dial beside the left edge of the needle....which promptly responded by retracting steadily and smoothly into the wall with an insidious sliding sound that was part glassy, part metallic. It left a vibrating tremor in the relief that buzzed lightly under her skin where she contacted it.

Realizing the four slots in the bas-relief were clearly intended to be gripped; two near the top rim and contoured to fit hands, two near the bottom and obviously meant to accommodate her feet, Kiri moved all four limbs into position and held on rightly.

The needle tip of the obsidian spire was on line with her girlish hips, and brushed menacingly against the taut front of her white rubber pants. With a slight hiss of glass and steel again it protruded out a good dozen centimeters and then paused. Gasping with a start as it jabbed at her tummy, she stretched her limbs and pushed her hips out just ahead of the spire; the rubber pants tightened on her hips and buttocks with deepening and lengthening creases as she did so, puckering tightly at the elastic leg openings.

The action had rolled her hips back enough and raised them until her predicament very rapidly became perilous: The sharpened tip of the spire was now set in the wide crotch of her rubber pants.

Feeling the thrumming vibration in the metallic obsidian again, Kiri held on for dear life as the spire slowly, inexorably continued its progress outward again, pushing against the crotch of the white rubber pants until it puckered around the tip- understanding exactly what was required of her, Kiri pushed her clit against the top of the pike, ensuring the point was aimed right into the mouth of her vagina, and then she waited impatiently for the inevitable.

She didn't have to wait long- the point probed, then stretched past its limits, the rubber crotch was pierced with an audible pop that released a wide rivulet of spray from the broken seal of the waterproof underpants.

She screamed. Oh by the gods she screamed; in but a moment more the spire's needlepoint had pierced her genitals, trusting itself at an oblique angle right between the folds of her lips and under throbbing clitoris, then pushing agonizingly into through her membranes and through the wall of her vagina.

The blood came then; fresh, warm and thick, flowing almost like syrup in the burning arid heat. Her blood had grown thicker and gummy with the sparse water supplies they had after a few burning hours following the wall along the edge of the desert. Her pulse had already been beating noticeably in her neck as she expended the effort to climb onto the relief, struggling to pump her thickening blood- it was now hammering in her chest with frantic effort as more of her syrupy blood pumped out through the gaping hole in the crotch of her elastic underpants....flowing and dripping around the end of the gleaming spire that impaled her.

With a sickeningly wet but dull pop, the spire's tip had speared at an angle through her vagina and punched through into her rectum. There was a forceful spurt and spray of blood that flung gobs and droplets over the face of the circular relief, the rest that spattered loudly on the sand was quickly and thirstily sucked up by the parched dry granules. The deep skewering ripped a frantic and helpless scream from Kiri's lips, her body shuddering in shock on the end of the spire...she felt her grip slipping, but the material of the wall had seemed to close in around her toes and fingers- squeezing until her fragile bones ached and felt ready to crack, ensuring she couldn't escape her ordeal now if she wished to.


The others below were aghast. Dayonera had long since turned from the grisly scene, unable to watch. Zoey had buried her face into her sleeve to stifle her cry of shock, eyes peering up unbelieving over the hem at the macabre scene.

This was Kiri; if any still any doubt, it was swept away now. This was the true Kiri, as she really was. Traveling companion, servant and lover,


Crying and screaming frantically as her hips shuddered on the pike that continued skewering them, there was a soft sound of tissue tearing and separated, and the point had emerged from between her buttocks and punched through the wide rear panel of the little pants, forcing out rivulets of blood that flowed over the rubber stretched over her ass. More of her blood followed a notch in the top of the pike, flowing into the relief dial, producing an astonishing effect


Kiri was paling dangerously to white and hung limply as her hips slid off the retracting pike, her companions  carefully taking her down as the entire relief slid inwards through the depths of the wall, exposing a ridged tube of the same shiny obsidian material, that was slick and running with a swirling mixture of Kiri's blood and something darker and more vicious, perhaps oil. The bas-relief portal slid back a half dozen meters before pausing and rolling clockwise into a gap in the tunnel.

Beyond that point, the vaginal-like tunnel ascended upwards with a slight incline.

In a very lengthy stint though the feared Demiplane of Dread, Original Kiri faced unspeakable horrors and torture wearing nothing but these elasticized, white rubber pants.

With the rest of her party scattered about the main city of Lampyre, Kiri was her place at the banquet table where Krinn and a number of the Little Sisters sized them up. A warm buzzing sounded in Kiri's head, which formed into words she could clearly understand. The voice was female- no, they were female. It was as if many women were speaking with her, and all at once.


"Where are the others who you arrived with? We want you...we want you. Tell us what what we need to know, and we will torture you without mercy.

Primal Kiri: Fighting Crime and Suffering Defeat, Clad in White Plastic Briefs

 Primal Kiri in her standard dungeoneering outfit; traveling light and unarmed to facilitate her weakened body, she wears her slave collar and shackles. She is clad only in full-cut white plastic briefs, which are made with an excessively large crotch, with a conspicuous curved seam delineating the elasticized, bladder-like crotch. She is armed only with Goldfire, a magical blade.

Kiri encounters a horrifying Hellmouth, a plant or worm-like creature in the alien and chthonian Qliphothic Realm. The sphincter mouth of the creature consumes both blood and flesh in an agonizingly slow and painful process. Well aware of what the nightmarish creature can do, Kiri has come here to be absolutely defeated. Having purposefully placed herself over it with legs spread, she positions the wide crotch of her plastic underpants directly over the sphincter hole, allowing her genitals to be horrifically mutilated.

Having been soundly defeated, secured in her slave paraphernalia and white plastic briefs, Kiri waits patiently for her first torture session.

The Misadventures and Exploitations of Hyborian Kiri

Clad only in her barbarian slave's garb, Kiri is effortlessly and savagely defeated by her opponent.

Captured by a recurring foe: Disarmed, and stripped to her slave irons and scandalously short panty briefs, Kiri is humiliated and tortured by Nemedian female fighters.

Having been marched into a hallway in abandoned ruins by her Nemedian captors, the female warriors have bashed and stomped Kiri's genitals to a bloody pulp, then slowly slit her throat and beheaded her. As does she, they know the prophetic curse that guides Kiri's existence will allow her to rise from death to suffer it all over again.

Aspects of the Eternal Doomed Champion

Thus far, the following aspects or versions of Kiri have been identified-

Original Kiri: Sometimes known as Forgotten Kiri, she is said to originate from Anaron, an uncharted world that is said to have suffered a great cataclysm of unknown nature. She comes to worlds including Oerth and Faerûn (of Dungeons & Dragons settings), eventually being Mistlead in the Demiplane of Dread, known also as Ravenloft. Her ultimate fate is the consequences of a wager between the goddesses Sif and Loviatar. Her doom is to suffer eternal torture in Ondtland, the bitterly frozen realm of Loviatar on the layer of Mungoth in Gehenna.


Hyborian Kiri: Who has a situation and an ultimate doom related to that of Original Kiri, who spends her life enduring the worst of the torments and terrors the Hyborian age has to offer.


Primal Kiri: Born in ancient Scandia near the end of Imperial Rome’s life span, Primal Kiri is doomed to be alive at a time when the empire is perfecting the horrifying art of crucifixion through extensive practice. Sentenced to death on the cross, she is inexplicably rescued by the secretive Midnighters from 21^st Century Paragon City. Said to be retrieved in time on behest of the Menders of Ouroboros through the Roman peninsula of Cimerora, because she is part of some inexplicable timeline, Kiri endures constant peril, helplessness and ignominy as a plastic pants-clad and would-be superheroine. Kiri skirts the seediest portions of Paragon City as a permanent lifestyle; when not actually seeking peril at the hands of the criminal underground, she earns coin as a fetish exhibitionist and prostitute. Her ultimate fate is to come full circle; returning to Cimerora when the time is right, and to willingly accept her cross and her horrible death. After her time in the distant future, Kiri knew, her defeat would be far more thrilling and scandalous, as she would now willingly mount the cross and hang from her nails clad only in white plastic underpants. At a later point in time, this Kiri would travel via inter-dimensional portal to Millennium City; an alternate future version of Detroit, Michigan. Portals back to Paragon City would inexplicably close for an extended period of time.
 

Praetorian Kiri: The mirror universe of Primal Earth, ruled by Tyrant, Praetorian Kiri is primal and primitive in nature. Victim of Praetor Tilman, A.K.A. Mother Mayhem, she is wild female animal seen on occasion in the Underground beneath Praetoria, last stronghold and city on Earth. Believed to be the result of some failed experiment by Mother, her origins and the full extent of her doom are unknown at this time.


Distant Galaxy Kiri: A denizen of a galaxy far, far away, this Kiri’s existence is said to lie somewhere between the Galactic Civil War and the era of the New Republic. A slave born, she is fated to helpless and grotesque servitude of the Hutts, and to see much of the galaxy as a chained slave. Her final fate is certain: The be a victim of a Sarlacc, suffering a fate of horrifying and excruciating pain and suffering for at least one thousand years.


Tharun Kiri, where the Eternal Doomed Champion is the helpless denizen and victim of a post-apocalyptic world named Tharun with decaying technology, and filled with all manner of exotic and alien flora and fauna, where Kiri takes on a role similar to that of fantasy classic heroine Druuna. There is debate on whether or not Tharun Kiri is the same as Original Kiri, on an earlier or later point in the timeline. What is known is that her doom takes her to imprisonment in The Wormscape; a domain of hideously distended larva, tentacles and worms of all types. Her fate includes being slowly consumed by the worms, as well as being sexually penetrated the slippery, writhing parasites in a bizarre symbiotic relationship where she serves as both food source and mate. It is so far unclear if this is her final doom in Tharun, or if even worse torments await her.


Numenera Kiri: The single-most distant Kiri on multiversal time, she may in fact be Original Kiri (see Tharun Kiri) at an extremely advanced era. Part of the Ninth World roughly one billion years in Earth's extremely distant future, at least eight other civilizations were known to have passed before this time. Numenera Kiri is believed to have a grand doom reserved for her, but so far the details of which are entirely unknown.

Alternate Universe Kiri versions

 As the multiverse includes all quantum possibilities and concept possibilities, so too there exist distant versions of Kiri where her doom never falls- existences where she has otherwise slipped her fate and lived to her full potential. Of these postulated timelines, the following are definitely known.


Federation Kiri, where it just into the beginning of the 25th Century of Earth's future, she is an admiral in Starfleet, in command of a task force of vessels in a very dangerous time for the galaxy when it is in open warfare. Her tactical skills as a warrior have earned her some respect even with the Klingons, whom she has faced in battle, before a ceasefire was brokered between the Federation and Empire.


Imperial Kiri, otherwise known as Ki-Ri, is an Orion slave girl. According to rumors, Ki-ri has a double running about, allegedly in Federation space as a Starfleet captain. This KDF ship commander is said to be from the Mirror Universe, where things went quite differently. Unlike most Orion females that take on the slave role as a guise, Kiri is a true slave, owned by her first officer, a woman that is at least half-Orion that is the true power in her task force. She is not even fully Terran, as is her Starfleet counterpart, but is half-Terran, having been birthed by an halfbreed Orion slave girl that was Grey and Ruddy Orion.

Given her full slave status, guaranteed since birth as a halfbreed, her details are wide open and known to the Empire. Unlike most Orion females who utilize their guile in the role of slaves, Fas actually knows a great deal about what it is to be a slave, having spent years with a rodinium collar tightly clamping her throat. Not mere social role-playing as Orion females practice, but true slavery and powerlessness at the hands of other Orions. Birthed by an inferior halfbreed, Kiri's light grey is mostly recessive to her Terran 'fleshy' complexion.

The 'runt of the litter' among her peers, she is fragile and lacking in strength as many Greys. Ki-ri suffers from skeletal gauntness and acute myasthenia gravis, making her extremely weak and easily defeated in combat. Her halfbreed heritage also means her physiology is weak compared to Orion females. She has, however, an extreme genetic resistance to injury and a high pain threshold that's saved her many a time.

Having been a slave on Mirror Triskelion, which never fell but was absorbed into the Terran Empire, Fas has dealt with the fate the universe has thrown at her mostly from a position of absolute helplessness and often in chains, but her training on Triskelion as a gladiatrix was her ticket to success, teaching her subtle combat and survival skills, and the school of brutal knocks in the Empire brought out her skills as an apt starship commander. Ki-Ri is for whatever reason allowed to continue the ruse that she is actually in command, but in reality on her off hours, Ki-Ri hangs helpless in chains in the expansive quarters of her first officer, where she is whipped and disciplined nightly. Ki-Ri is known to have no specific doom, but shall remain a slave for her foreseeable future.


EVE Kiri: A citizen of the Minmatar Republic in a far distant galaxy at least 21,000 years in Earth's future, she has no known doom. Only lightly trained in combat skills, she is a freighter pilot for various corporations, moving about the galaxy randomly. Because of the advanced cloning and longevity technology of this distant era, this Kiri is effectively immortal, fated if for anything but to voyage among the stars.