It might be consolation to a torture victim if his treatment displayed creativity or artistry. The subject, though excruciated, can nevertheless cultivate an aesthetic appreciation of his travails.
How flattering, also, that so much attention and devotion are lavished on one. One feels many things when tortured; neglect is rarely one of them.
That is the sweetest consummation of the ritualized, stylized yet visceral, relationship between torturer and tortured (when it's ideal): not bloody, painful demise of the victim, but a window opened to truly knowing one's torturer on a personal level. One keeps the memory of such a soul-touching encounter for the rest of one's life. Torturers who think they maintain anonymity, detachment or distance do not know what they reveal of themselves when they deliberately cause pain to another who does not want it. They'd be surprised to find what their subject has gleaned about their innermost selves from the work done.
One is never as intimate even with one's family, friends or lovers.