"Chapter 3: The Agony of Impalement"

The figure's eyes gleamed with sadistic pleasure as Sarah's body began to convulse, her muscles tensing and relaxing in a rhythmic pattern that seemed to match the beating of her heart. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and her mouth opened in a silent scream, as if she was trying to release the pent-up terror and pain that threatened to consume her. The pole, still slick with lubricant, slid deeper into her, its white-hot surface searing her flesh with an agony that seemed to have no end. Sarah's body began to tremble, her limbs shaking uncontrollably as she felt her internal organs being torn apart by the merciless metal. Her skin was slick with sweat, and her eyes were wide with terror, as if she was staring into the very face of death itself. The weights attached to her nipples and ankles seemed to pull her down, stretching her skin to its limits, as if she was being crucified on the pole. Her breasts were heavy with pain, and her nipples felt like they were being ripped from her body, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable. The heat emanating from the pole seemed to spread throughout her body, as if it was radiating from the very core of her being. Her vision began to blur, and her thoughts grew cloudy, as if she was being consumed by a wave of intense, burning pain. Her body felt like it was on fire, her skin burning with an agony that seemed to be spreading, infecting every cell, every nerve, every fiber of her being. The figure watched, his eyes drinking in the sight of Sarah's suffering, as she writhed and convulsed on the pole. His face was twisted into a grotesque grimace, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic pleasure that seemed to grow with every passing moment. He seemed to be savoring her pain, enjoying every moment of her agony, as if it was some kind of twisted pleasure. The woman, standing off to the side, seemed to be mesmerized by the sight, her eyes fixed on Sarah's convulsing body. Her face was pale, and her eyes were wide with a mixture of horror and fascination, as if she was unsure of what to make of the scene unfolding before her. Sarah's body began to contort, her limbs twisting and turning in ways that seemed impossible. Her back arched, and her head thrown back, as if she was trying to escape the pain that was consuming her. Her mouth was open, and her tongue was lolling out, as if she was trying to scream, but her voice was trapped inside her, unable to escape. The pole seemed to be growing hotter, its surface glowing with an intense, white heat that seemed to be searing Sarah's flesh. Her body began to char, her skin blackening and blistering as if she was being burned alive. Her eyes were wide with terror, and her face was twisted into a grimace of pain, as if she was staring into the very abyss of suffering. And yet, despite the agony that was consuming her, Sarah's mind was still aware, still conscious of the horror that was unfolding before her. She knew that she was being impaled, that she was being burned alive, and that she was at the mercy of the figure and the woman, who seemed to be enjoying her suffering. Her mind was a jumble of fear and pain, as if she was trapped in a living nightmare from which she couldn't awaken.