II Her Discipliners
The afternoon and evening were indeed long for Geraldine, with a constant line of tourists who’d paid to gawp at her, paid extortionate amounts of money for tomatoes to throw at her, and who jabbered away in their languages, trying to get selfies of themselves and her. She was glad the tomatoes were well rotted, they were very soft when they hit her tits and pussy, which were the main aiming points, Empire tourists preferring the tits, Chinese and Black-skins the pussy. Not many bothered with her back, but those in her hair soon made it wet, sticky and heavy.
At last the line stopped, and Geraldine shivered as the wet fruit clung to her body. Ruth and Mother Vera came down with the keys, and let themselves into the cell. First they gave Geraldine a drink, then some of the food Ruth had brought with them.
“Can’t you release me for a bit, Mother?” asked Geraldine.
“No, it’s written that Jesua suffered the night before her crucifixion, so we have to keep it real,” replied Mother Vera, “and before you ask, we can’t clean you up either, the tomato juice and skin represent the blood of Jesua after her scourging, that’s very important for the performance.”
Ruth stayed with her daughter for another couple of hours, till she saw that Geraldine’s eyes were beginning to close. She doubted the young girl would get any proper sleep, but it all gave a better show if the condemned looked half-dead already.
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“Good morning, darling,” said Xoplis, while his wife sucked enthusiastically at his morning hard-on. Xoplis lay still, quite content that the love of his life could prolong the pleasure then give him exquisite relief.
“What’s the plan then, dear?” asked Talaka, after Xoplis had repaid the favour in the shower.
“We watch them tie a beam-thingy to the girl, then she has to carry it up the hill. We’re allowed to help her if we like, it’ll be fun.”
“All the way up that fucking great hill? You must be joking!”
Xoplis knew his wife, and so knew that reason wouldn’t work. It was important that she was at the top, though, since he’d bought her a surprise up there.
“No problem, we’ll see the start, then drive up, watch them nail her.”
“Nail! You mean……………..Oh, my Gods of Suffering.”
“Yes, it should be quite a show.”
“Come on then, let’s rush breakfast, I’m starving. But that thought’s made me horny. Have we got time…..”
“NO.”
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“Look at the dirty slut, standing in her own filth. How many cunts did you lick to get first place, eh Leeds?”
“More like how many arses did she lick.”
“No girls, you’ve got it all wrong, I didn’t really try to be Jesua,” Geraldine tried to explain.
“Shut the fuck up, Leeds trash, we’re in fucking charge now. Gag her, I can’t stand her voice.”
The Twelve Discipliners of Jesua entered the cell, all dressed in boots and short brown uniforms with the name of their village sewn above the breasts. After some years when the Discipliners had been soft on the Jesua, they gave the task to the runners-up, who the current Jesua had beaten for the honour. So there was no love lost, if anything the girls competed to see who could be the most catty and cruel.
The leader, the Discipliner from Bradford who had come second in the poll, and suspected a fix, picked up a handful of tomato mush from the floor, now mixed with some urine, and squeezed it up Geraldine’s vagina.
“Let’s make it nice and moist for what’s to come. Though it’s probably wasted on a whore like you.”
tbc