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Alexia Agonia

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Alexia was not a fan of staying in the court of the queen for any longer than necessary. It was a toxic place of constant status-warfare and gossip, where social reputation was the difference between a luxurious life and a tortuous death. It was cutthroat, and only attracted the most impulsive, foolish, or machavelian. Now that the court was gathered back, no one would dare mention the absence of the outspoken senatrix, Fowler. People with proximity to the queen who disagreed with her tended to just... disappear. There was no use questioning what everyone knew implicitly. A woman like the Queen, with absolute power, was to be feared. That sense of fear filled the entourage as they arrived that morning, facing a queen and her head carnafixa side by side.

The purge had begun
 
Alexia was not a fan of staying in the court of the queen for any longer than necessary. It was a toxic place of constant status-warfare and gossip, where social reputation was the difference between a luxurious life and a tortuous death. It was cutthroat, and only attracted the most impulse, foolish, or machavelian. Now that the court was gathered back, no one would dare mention the absence of the outspoken senatrix, Fowler. People with proximity to the queen who disagreed with her tended to just... disappear. There was no use questioning what everyone knew implicitly. A woman like the Queen, with absolute power, was to be feared. That sense of fear filled the entourage as they arrived that morning, facing a queen and her head carnafixa side by side.

The purge had begun
Good writing, girl!!!!
 
Alexia was not a fan of staying in the court of the queen for any longer than necessary. It was a toxic place of constant status-warfare and gossip, where social reputation was the difference between a luxurious life and a tortuous death. It was cutthroat, and only attracted the most impulse, foolish, or machavelian. Now that the court was gathered back, no one would dare mention the absence of the outspoken senatrix, Fowler. People with proximity to the queen who disagreed with her tended to just... disappear. There was no use questioning what everyone knew implicitly. A woman like the Queen, with absolute power, was to be feared. That sense of fear filled the entourage as they arrived that morning, facing a queen and her head carnafixa side by side.

The purge had begun
Sounds like a pretty toxic place :confused:
 
The members of the royal court all wore outfits that were as scattered and wild as the mood of the queen. There wasn't a plain-looking person among them. The queen would often wax lyrical about her favorite fashions, or what she felt good, and the court was implicitly compelled to comply to her insane aesthetic, or face her judgement. Ironically, being dressed normally might make you stand out, and standing out in such a negative way was a good way to draw the eye of the queen. Not a single person wanted to draw her eye, even positively, the queen was a true sadist.

So, naturally, Alexia was scared shitless to have been ordered to be on her right side. It seemed like the queen might have trusted her; but maybe she just trusted that Alexia would always act a certain way.
 
This Queen that Mp5stab has created just might be the one to bust Wtagg's loathometer. Her every whim is dangerous. How many of her subjects have suffered at her capricious hand? There can be no peace in the land while she is on the throne. Is there no one out there willing to stand up to her?
 
Sure, I guess it can continue. I do have some idea where I’m going, but honestly this is pretty stream of thought hurtfic type nonsense. It ends in the most predictable way you can imagine, don’t you worry. I’m afraid it’ll just turn out like a series of disconnected scenes tied together only by a few recurring characters who haven’t yet died. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Maybe that’s just what I want to write.

Kaitlyn checked the crux app on her phone. There were three women currently being tracked. Heartbeat sensors hidden in the nails and blood pressure sensors in the ropes seamlessly gave her vital information about the three crucifixae. By this time she had a solid grasp of their vO2 maxes. The heartrates – 120, 118, 158 – indicated compensated shock, well within aerobic capacity. Blood pressure had remained stably high, so they weren’t bleeding out just yet. Estimated caloric burn, fluid loss, and catabolic weight loss flashed in turn on the monitors for each. Two days on the cross could burn twenty pounds – or more, as long as they were kept hydrated and in nitrogen balance. Kaitlyn was the queen of that sort of maintainence. Just below their names was a elapsed time on cross, and on her app she also saw an estimated time till takedown. They still had plenty of struggles ahead of them, but the girls were right on schedule. She had scientifically dialled in an ultramarathon of agony, a slow burn between women and wood. Even the least athletic estimates placed them on crosses for several hours, perhaps even dozens more.

Kaitlyn let out a sigh. That would be a long time coming. Once the whipping had concluded, nails in, the cross raised, there wasn’t much to do. It would be the same scene. Painful, but boring. She had seen thousands. She just had maid work, maintaining their bodies as long as it was possible. After certain prerequisites were met, crucifixions paid out in durration. Kaitlyn would have loved to remove the ten minutes of whipping if it gave her a couple hours more of a fresh victim, but it was a prerequisite quite often; the whole process was so formalized and ritualistic that she had to eek in minutes wherever shr could. I that regard, these three were a treat. Young, very physically fit, determined; the perfect victims. She had managed quite the motherlode score of overtime for all three, but as another day dragged on, her shift wore on her even more. She couldn’t leave until they were dead. She was used to ten to twelve hour shifts, and this one was getting ridiculous. She was hungry, bored, tired, even perhaps a little disappointed at how long they were taking. When she had carefully put them to their crosses, she had no idea how successful she had been, or how much they would fight the wood. Part of her wished that at least one of them would give up early, to at least give her something to do. The other part new she had a new car on those crosses, hell, maybe even a handbag too, this was the peak performance of the year for sure.

She just had to keep herself alert, awake, and entertained. Don’t crucifag ‘em just yet, thought Kaitlyn you get paid for pain.

Her post was deserted save her. It was relatively remote to the crux site, a five minute drive if anything happened there. But it had air con and a desk. And chargers. She aimlessly sifted through Alexia’s magazines. God, she had trash taste, nothing but torture. Might as well have been romance novels set in the coliseum. Muscular Masochistic Men Monthly, Choke (rope him in... page 38), Hair and Nails...

Sure, Kaitlyn thought as she picked it up from the middle of the pile, hair and nails was a least slightly off the topic. Even an event like the one she was witnessing got played out after a dozen hours of non-stop sameness. “Hair and Nails”, the front cover was stark, a glamorous shot of a now long ago nailed super model. The inside had a full page add for Nailus Martyrs, then the table of contents.

“Top ten spring hairstyles for crucifixion!”

“Take this quiz to find out what type of cross would be worst for you!”

“How to keep your glamorous appeal all the way to the end”

“Body toning, booty blasting workouts for longer, rougher crucis!”

She rolled her eyes, it would be a long shift still...
 
I’ve just started following this thread, and I’ve learned a new word.

"Hurtfic."

I like it!

Em, I don’t do modern dress (undress?) crucifixions. This story’s changing that.
 
The Queen had seen fit to deliver a speech only she could listen to... and she had a captive audience! It would be hard to stay awake. Alexia wished she was getting Kaitlyn’s duties instead of her own. She briefly considered checking the livestream to see how Kaitlyn had done. But she need, at the very least, to pretend to care about this.

Alexia stood solemnly at the left hand of the queen and tried to look attentive to the proceedings. The doors had been looked shut and the balconies were lined with guard. The masses of court followers did everything but cower, huddling together, making themselves small. No one knew who would and wouldn’t make it.

They looked pathetic to Alexia, flinching at every word, desperate to control themselves, contain their fear, and even then, still stealing glances at the scene in the courtyard. Visible to everyone but mentioned not, the moaning body of the woman they once knew as Fowler, hung, barely alive, in the adjacent courtyard on the cross of her choosing, with her legs lewdly splayed out.

The Queen was fiery, talking of traitors and fakers, and frauds. It was a really animated performance. Also kinda bonkers, you know, just not really attached to reality in an meaningful way. Small details, really. Alexia wondered if the Queen was poisoned, or addicted to a mind altering substance. Whatever she was doing, it didn’t matter, because Alexia was definitely getting some serious bank off of this! How much could she make if the Queen executed the whole court? That was what she was looking forward too.

But... it didn’t quite work out.

An older senator spoke. The sniveling sycophant saw his opportunity and, carefully reassured the Queen that they were loyal, and furthermore supported the Queen using her full power to punish the insolent and idiotic traitors, as well as the families who would shetler them. Senator Reynolds. Huh. He denounced the actions of Fowler (by name!) and said that any Senatrix who wished for a lessor penalty was simply afraid and attempting to lessen their own pain once they were caught as traitors; that to that rnd, they were trying to steal away the divine right of justice from the Queen.

Apparently this satisfied Emilia. Crisis averted.

The queen instead looked to Emilia “Crucify the rest of the Fowlers,”
 
Em, I’ve already told you that I don’t do "modern dress" crux stories. Not a turn on. Nope. Nosiree bob. But I’ve been reading this alternate reality dystopian hellscape in which your story is set, and . . .

Hmmm.

I’ll make an exception. Heck, I did as much for Mailnan's renders back in '05. :devil:
 

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I’ve just started following this thread, and I’ve learned a new word.

"Hurtfic."

I like it!

Em, I don’t do modern dress (undress?) crucifixions. This story’s changing that.
The list of things you don't do is awfully long there pal, and the list of things you do do (pun unintended) is awfully short. Variety is GOOD! I love lobster, but feed it to me for every meal every day for a month and I will beg for anything else. Read some modern crux, even some non-crux or even stories with little or no suffering and who knows? There are only two types of stories-well-written ones with intereting plots and real characters and less well-written ones. The same applies to art. The topic is secondary, IMO.

Editorial over, now back to the regularly shedduled program...
 
Alexia Playground
Here are a few pictures of Alexia playing with her favorite toy.

To be continued...
 

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Alexia Playground

To be continued....
 

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Alexia Playground

Please, could someone reminds me how I should post the pictures and keep their statistics? Thanks!

To be continued...
----
Moderator advising: Post the images not as "Thumbnail" and not as "Full image" and you can see the numbers of views. I changed it for you.
Madiosi
 

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