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shastar
Tribune
Repertor shows her with fantastic breasts, and indeed she'd always been proud of her figure.
But she hadn't expected it to be displayed in public like this. Utter humiliation.
Poor Jasmine.
Repertor
Artifex Imaginum
She has very expressive nipples.H'm, her nipples betray mixed emotions...
Repertor
Artifex Imaginum
Opposite, those same slaves were hanging on their own crosses. All equal in suffering. Nobody was calling her ‘my lady’ any more, except perhaps with heavy sarcasm.
This is the last picture for the time being.
Serious problems with my computer have affected its performance and rendering has become too difficult.
Wragg will continue the story but after that keep watching the thread. The remaining pictures will come later.
This is the last picture for the time being.
Serious problems with my computer have affected its performance and rendering has become too difficult.
Wragg will continue the story but after that keep watching the thread. The remaining pictures will come later.
Hondoboot2
QUAESTOR PULCHRITUDINIS
Sorry to hear about your computer problems Repertor.Opposite, those same slaves were hanging on their own crosses. All equal in suffering. Nobody was calling her ‘my lady’ any more, except perhaps with heavy sarcasm.
View attachment 407564
This is the last picture for the time being.
Serious problems with my computer have affected its performance and rendering has become too difficult.
Wragg will continue the story but after that keep watching the thread. The remaining pictures will come later.
Great render!
Hondoboot2
QUAESTOR PULCHRITUDINIS
Repertor, should I send over an ace computer expert to diagnose your computer problems?
He is quite good at finding the problem.
He is quite good at finding the problem.
Repertor
Artifex Imaginum
Yes, that's just what I need.
But I'd better hide the mouse.
Yes, Jasmine's been too hot even for Repertor's computer!Opposite, those same slaves were hanging on their own crosses. All equal in suffering. Nobody was calling her ‘my lady’ any more, except perhaps with heavy sarcasm.
View attachment 407564
This is the last picture for the time being.
Serious problems with my computer have affected its performance and rendering has become too difficult.
Wragg will continue the story but after that keep watching the thread. The remaining pictures will come later.
I'm away tonight but I'll post the next part tomorrow evening, hopefully!
Part 11: Cassia’s Vigil
Seconds after they’d gone, Jasmine spoke.
“Cassia…..”
She went to Jasmine’s cross. “I’m here!”
“I wish…..I wish…. we’d been lovers, Cass.”
Cassia just looked up at her, stretched out on that cross. “So do I.”
“Is it….too late?”
Cassia unfastened her dress, allowing it slip to the ground.
“No, Jasmine….it isn’t.” Moments later, Cassia was naked. “But….I don’t want to hurt you!”
Jasmine looked down at Cassia, the setting sun illuminating her body.
“The pain….the cross….you…I don’t understand….but I’ve never felt more alive!”
With a cry, Cassia wrapped her arms around Jasmine’s body. Tenderly, she kissed Jasmine’s breasts, feeling as though they were both caught in a vortex of passion. Cassia’s hands slid down to Jasmine’s buttocks, and she pulled her tight against her body, holding her in a fierce grip.
Those wonderful nipples had fascinated Cassia from the moment that the Carnifex had removed Jasmine’s dress, and now she eagerly seized one in her mouth, her teeth and her tongue pulling at that proud nipple, that symbol of Jasmine’s defiance of the humiliation of her cross.
Jasmine groaned, this time in ecstasy rather than agony, and did so again as Cassia’s fingers found their way between her labia. Cassia was not really surprised to find her fingers drenched in moisture; what surprised her was that Jasmine was capable of getting so aroused despite being nailed to a cross!
Then it dawned upon her…. Jasmine was not aroused ‘despite’ her cross; she was aroused ‘because of’ her cross! This moment was not a moment stolen from the agony of the cross, it was the culmination of Jasmine’s desire for her cross. A desire born, perhaps, as Jasmine had witnessed the way that Rebecca had wanted nothing more than to join Helena in suffering; or born at the moment that she had realised that Rebecca and Helena were sharing something from which she, Jasmine, was excluded. From that moment Jasmine had actually wanted to be crucified! Nothing else could explain the almost reckless way that Jasmine had behaved. Cassia remembered her words to the Proconsul: “I have seen that there are vacant posts by the South Gate. Please take me there and crucify me.”
Dispelling any last doubt, Cassia discovered that Jasmine’s clitoris was engorged with desire. Cassia stroked it for a few minutes with her drenched fingers. Jasmine was responding by writhing with joy; somehow she was adding the sensations from Cassia’s teeth, tongue, and fingers to the agony of the nails. The nails weren’t detracting from this, they were adding to it.
Cassia realised that her fingers could not accomplish this alone, Jasmine’s clitoris needed the ultimate touch of her tongue. Almost reluctantly she left Jasmine’s breast and moved down, gently kissing her abdomen on the way. One hand stroking her buttocks, and one finger caressing her labia, Cassia’s tongue made that initial contact with Jasmine’s clitoris.
“Oh, Cassia! Oh CASSIA!” groaned Jasmine. Her pelvis was rocking with pleasure, but now Cassia’s tongue had found that throbbing organ of pleasure, nothing short of an earthquake was going to shake it off.
Cassia knew it was coming, but the climax shocked even her. Jasmine threw her head back, and shrieked, a primaeval sound, a culmination of agony and ecstasy, as Cassia’s face was drenched in pulsing fountains of fluid.
Cassia sat back as the echoes of that shriek died away, looked up at her, and smiled. Jasmine gazed back. She didn’t say anything, because she didn’t have to. What words were there, for a moment like this?
Cassia turned to look at the others. What of them? What would be their response to this? Rebecca was smiling, to be sure, maybe she understood Jasmine’s needs better than anyone, for she had been meeting then for years, but Helena was frowning. Scowling, in fact.
Still naked, Cassia stood before Helena.
“Water…..”
Cassia fetched water, and Helena drank.
“You both....think….this is…..some kind of a….fucking…..game?” demanded Helena.
Cassia felt as though she’d been punched in her stomach. She remembered how bitterly Helena had fought her crucifixion, how acutely she felt the injustice of what had been done to her. For a while, she seemed to have appreciated Jasmine’s sacrifice, her apparent wish to suffer as they had done. Now she was clearly feeling that she and Rebecca were some kind of pawns in Jasmine’s game of sexual adventure. Every surge of agony along her tortured limbs served to increase her resentment at what had been done to her, and now she could direct that resentment at Jasmine and Cassia.
“Helena, no!” Shocked, Cassia reached out to her.
“Don’t touch me, you cow!”
Cassia drew her hand back as though Helena had bitten it.
“Helena!” Jasmine’s voice was firm, authoritative.
Painfully, Helena raised her head and looked at her. Glared at her.
“This was not….my doing!”
“No?”
“No! Marcus killed Father! Marcus….set you up for this!”
Helena still glared.
“But you…get off….on seeing me….on seeing us….on being….like this?” She spat the last word at Jasmine. “You arranged this…..whole …..thing!”
“Helena, she didn’t….she couldn’t have!” Rebecca was horrified at the very thought.
“Grow up…..Rebecca! We’re….just….slaves! Toys!”
“No!” Genuine anguish in that one word from Jasmine.
Cassia stood and looked at the three of them, her mind spinning, thinking over the events of the last hours. She could understand how Helena saw it, but…was it possible? Could Jasmine have engineered the whole thing? Were these poor girls hanging there, innocent victims of some wild sexual game? Every awful detail replayed in her mind.
Then she spoke, her voice quavering.
“Helena, I’m sorry, but you are wrong. So wrong. When we left this morning, Jasmine was absolutely devastated at what had been done to you. She was furious with her brother. For fuck’s sake, he almost killed her! Then she took the blame for me killing her brother! I should be dead now, or hanging there with you! She did her utmost, and I mean her utmost, to persuade them to come and get you both down! Would she have done that if she just ‘got off’ on seeing you here? Gods alive, if that’s how she felt she could have come back to my place this morning for a good fuck and then forgotten about you!
“Helena, let me tell you this. Jasmine is the bravest woman that I have ever met! What happened…..just now…. was because she loves me, and I love her, and now, somehow, God knows how, I’ve got to live the rest of my life without her! And I can’t bear the thought that you might die hating her!”
Helena wasn’t looking at Jasmine any more. She was hanging, looking straight down at the ground. But the dying light of the day illuminated her tears as they fell to the bloodstained ground below.
Then she lifted her face. “Jasmine…..look at me.”
Jasmine’s eyes met Helena’s.
“Tell me….what she said….is true?”
Jasmine said. “Of course it’s true! I’ve always…loved you….both! I’d never…..have wanted…..this, for you!”
Helena struggled up her cross. “WHY??? WHY THEN? WHY DID THEY DO THIS TO US? WHY MUST IT HURT….LIKE THIS? WHAT DID I DO?”
This time Helena allowed Cassia, ever so gently, to touch her. She reached up and touched her face.
“Cassia….get me down…..please…..help me! I don’t want to die!”
“Helena, I wish I could, I’m so sorry!”
“Then kill me!”
“Helena, you just said you didn’t…”
“KILL ME!!!
“I can’t! I lost my knife!”
“So strangle me.”
“I can’t!”
“I hate you!!!”
Cassia stretched up, and put her hands around Helena’s neck. It was hard, reaching up like that, but she began to squeeze. Then Helena, eyes wide with panic, shook her head wildly and began to struggle. Cassia let go again.
Helena gasped for breath. Cassia held her, as gently as she could. “I’m sorry, Helena. Your will to live is still too strong. The cross will have to take you, in its own time.”
Helena just hung from her nails. “Fucking…..fucking cross. Only…..the devil himself….could have thought of this!”
And so began Cassia’s vigil. In the distance she could hear the sounds of a party. Josie’s party. Josie and her scumbag father partying while Jasmine suffered. Cassia felt sick.
She felt the chill of night, and reached for her dress. Then she threw it aside. She may not be able to share their pain, or their terror, but she could share their nakedness.
A full moon rose, and soon the whole scene was bathed in moonlight. The women suffered by the light of the moon. She helped them drink, she talked to them , at various points in the night she held all three of them, her body against theirs a small comfort to them.
Towards the end of the night Cassia was sitting on the ground, resting her back on Rebecca’s cross, looking up at Jasmine, bathed in moonlight. What must it be like, on those crosses? What did you think about, as you waited to die? That was the only time she felt herself drifting towards sleep, but at that moment Rebecca, above her, cried out again for her mother. Cassia got up, fetched water, but, in the moments it took to get back to her, Rebecca’s hideous battle with her cross ended, and her breathing quietly stopped. Cassia reached up and closed her staring eyes, and hoped the others hadn’t noticed.
Eventually there was light in the eastern sky, and a glorious sunrise. What right did the sun have to rise so splendidly upon a scene such as this? Why did the birds sing with such joy in the presence of such suffering? Helena and Jasmine were still occasionally crying out in their agony. Would this never end for them? Surely it couldn’t be much longer?
During that early morning Cassia’s vigil ended. Helena went next, soon after dawn, and quite violently. She suddenly found herself suffocating, and desperately tried to push herself up for breath, but she just did not have the strength left to do it. She abruptly stopped crying out, and Cassia found Helena staring at her through sightless eyes. Once again, Cassia gently closed them.
She went to Jasmine’s cross.
“Jasmine! Jasmine! I’m so sorry, Helena and Rebecca have gone. You can let go now! I won’t let the crows get them, I’ll see you all get respect, I promise!”
Jasmine was breathing vocally, every breath was a small sound, but her eyes opened, and she looked at Jasmine, and she smiled.
“Oh, my Jasmine, my poor Jasmine! Now you wish you’d never let them crucify you!”
Jasmine looked directly at Cassia. Slowly but definitely, she shook her head.
Then she gasped, a different sounding gasp, and sighed, closed her eyes by herself, and then she was completely still, the smile still on her face.
Cassia clung to Jasmine’s body as though her life depended on it, her tears mingling with Jasmine’s blood.
It was almost an hour before the guards opened the gate and found her, naked, weeping, and still clinging to her dead, crucified, lover.
Seconds after they’d gone, Jasmine spoke.
“Cassia…..”
She went to Jasmine’s cross. “I’m here!”
“I wish…..I wish…. we’d been lovers, Cass.”
Cassia just looked up at her, stretched out on that cross. “So do I.”
“Is it….too late?”
Cassia unfastened her dress, allowing it slip to the ground.
“No, Jasmine….it isn’t.” Moments later, Cassia was naked. “But….I don’t want to hurt you!”
Jasmine looked down at Cassia, the setting sun illuminating her body.
“The pain….the cross….you…I don’t understand….but I’ve never felt more alive!”
With a cry, Cassia wrapped her arms around Jasmine’s body. Tenderly, she kissed Jasmine’s breasts, feeling as though they were both caught in a vortex of passion. Cassia’s hands slid down to Jasmine’s buttocks, and she pulled her tight against her body, holding her in a fierce grip.
Those wonderful nipples had fascinated Cassia from the moment that the Carnifex had removed Jasmine’s dress, and now she eagerly seized one in her mouth, her teeth and her tongue pulling at that proud nipple, that symbol of Jasmine’s defiance of the humiliation of her cross.
Jasmine groaned, this time in ecstasy rather than agony, and did so again as Cassia’s fingers found their way between her labia. Cassia was not really surprised to find her fingers drenched in moisture; what surprised her was that Jasmine was capable of getting so aroused despite being nailed to a cross!
Then it dawned upon her…. Jasmine was not aroused ‘despite’ her cross; she was aroused ‘because of’ her cross! This moment was not a moment stolen from the agony of the cross, it was the culmination of Jasmine’s desire for her cross. A desire born, perhaps, as Jasmine had witnessed the way that Rebecca had wanted nothing more than to join Helena in suffering; or born at the moment that she had realised that Rebecca and Helena were sharing something from which she, Jasmine, was excluded. From that moment Jasmine had actually wanted to be crucified! Nothing else could explain the almost reckless way that Jasmine had behaved. Cassia remembered her words to the Proconsul: “I have seen that there are vacant posts by the South Gate. Please take me there and crucify me.”
Dispelling any last doubt, Cassia discovered that Jasmine’s clitoris was engorged with desire. Cassia stroked it for a few minutes with her drenched fingers. Jasmine was responding by writhing with joy; somehow she was adding the sensations from Cassia’s teeth, tongue, and fingers to the agony of the nails. The nails weren’t detracting from this, they were adding to it.
Cassia realised that her fingers could not accomplish this alone, Jasmine’s clitoris needed the ultimate touch of her tongue. Almost reluctantly she left Jasmine’s breast and moved down, gently kissing her abdomen on the way. One hand stroking her buttocks, and one finger caressing her labia, Cassia’s tongue made that initial contact with Jasmine’s clitoris.
“Oh, Cassia! Oh CASSIA!” groaned Jasmine. Her pelvis was rocking with pleasure, but now Cassia’s tongue had found that throbbing organ of pleasure, nothing short of an earthquake was going to shake it off.
Cassia knew it was coming, but the climax shocked even her. Jasmine threw her head back, and shrieked, a primaeval sound, a culmination of agony and ecstasy, as Cassia’s face was drenched in pulsing fountains of fluid.
Cassia sat back as the echoes of that shriek died away, looked up at her, and smiled. Jasmine gazed back. She didn’t say anything, because she didn’t have to. What words were there, for a moment like this?
Cassia turned to look at the others. What of them? What would be their response to this? Rebecca was smiling, to be sure, maybe she understood Jasmine’s needs better than anyone, for she had been meeting then for years, but Helena was frowning. Scowling, in fact.
Still naked, Cassia stood before Helena.
“Water…..”
Cassia fetched water, and Helena drank.
“You both....think….this is…..some kind of a….fucking…..game?” demanded Helena.
Cassia felt as though she’d been punched in her stomach. She remembered how bitterly Helena had fought her crucifixion, how acutely she felt the injustice of what had been done to her. For a while, she seemed to have appreciated Jasmine’s sacrifice, her apparent wish to suffer as they had done. Now she was clearly feeling that she and Rebecca were some kind of pawns in Jasmine’s game of sexual adventure. Every surge of agony along her tortured limbs served to increase her resentment at what had been done to her, and now she could direct that resentment at Jasmine and Cassia.
“Helena, no!” Shocked, Cassia reached out to her.
“Don’t touch me, you cow!”
Cassia drew her hand back as though Helena had bitten it.
“Helena!” Jasmine’s voice was firm, authoritative.
Painfully, Helena raised her head and looked at her. Glared at her.
“This was not….my doing!”
“No?”
“No! Marcus killed Father! Marcus….set you up for this!”
Helena still glared.
“But you…get off….on seeing me….on seeing us….on being….like this?” She spat the last word at Jasmine. “You arranged this…..whole …..thing!”
“Helena, she didn’t….she couldn’t have!” Rebecca was horrified at the very thought.
“Grow up…..Rebecca! We’re….just….slaves! Toys!”
“No!” Genuine anguish in that one word from Jasmine.
Cassia stood and looked at the three of them, her mind spinning, thinking over the events of the last hours. She could understand how Helena saw it, but…was it possible? Could Jasmine have engineered the whole thing? Were these poor girls hanging there, innocent victims of some wild sexual game? Every awful detail replayed in her mind.
Then she spoke, her voice quavering.
“Helena, I’m sorry, but you are wrong. So wrong. When we left this morning, Jasmine was absolutely devastated at what had been done to you. She was furious with her brother. For fuck’s sake, he almost killed her! Then she took the blame for me killing her brother! I should be dead now, or hanging there with you! She did her utmost, and I mean her utmost, to persuade them to come and get you both down! Would she have done that if she just ‘got off’ on seeing you here? Gods alive, if that’s how she felt she could have come back to my place this morning for a good fuck and then forgotten about you!
“Helena, let me tell you this. Jasmine is the bravest woman that I have ever met! What happened…..just now…. was because she loves me, and I love her, and now, somehow, God knows how, I’ve got to live the rest of my life without her! And I can’t bear the thought that you might die hating her!”
Helena wasn’t looking at Jasmine any more. She was hanging, looking straight down at the ground. But the dying light of the day illuminated her tears as they fell to the bloodstained ground below.
Then she lifted her face. “Jasmine…..look at me.”
Jasmine’s eyes met Helena’s.
“Tell me….what she said….is true?”
Jasmine said. “Of course it’s true! I’ve always…loved you….both! I’d never…..have wanted…..this, for you!”
Helena struggled up her cross. “WHY??? WHY THEN? WHY DID THEY DO THIS TO US? WHY MUST IT HURT….LIKE THIS? WHAT DID I DO?”
This time Helena allowed Cassia, ever so gently, to touch her. She reached up and touched her face.
“Cassia….get me down…..please…..help me! I don’t want to die!”
“Helena, I wish I could, I’m so sorry!”
“Then kill me!”
“Helena, you just said you didn’t…”
“KILL ME!!!
“I can’t! I lost my knife!”
“So strangle me.”
“I can’t!”
“I hate you!!!”
Cassia stretched up, and put her hands around Helena’s neck. It was hard, reaching up like that, but she began to squeeze. Then Helena, eyes wide with panic, shook her head wildly and began to struggle. Cassia let go again.
Helena gasped for breath. Cassia held her, as gently as she could. “I’m sorry, Helena. Your will to live is still too strong. The cross will have to take you, in its own time.”
Helena just hung from her nails. “Fucking…..fucking cross. Only…..the devil himself….could have thought of this!”
And so began Cassia’s vigil. In the distance she could hear the sounds of a party. Josie’s party. Josie and her scumbag father partying while Jasmine suffered. Cassia felt sick.
She felt the chill of night, and reached for her dress. Then she threw it aside. She may not be able to share their pain, or their terror, but she could share their nakedness.
A full moon rose, and soon the whole scene was bathed in moonlight. The women suffered by the light of the moon. She helped them drink, she talked to them , at various points in the night she held all three of them, her body against theirs a small comfort to them.
Towards the end of the night Cassia was sitting on the ground, resting her back on Rebecca’s cross, looking up at Jasmine, bathed in moonlight. What must it be like, on those crosses? What did you think about, as you waited to die? That was the only time she felt herself drifting towards sleep, but at that moment Rebecca, above her, cried out again for her mother. Cassia got up, fetched water, but, in the moments it took to get back to her, Rebecca’s hideous battle with her cross ended, and her breathing quietly stopped. Cassia reached up and closed her staring eyes, and hoped the others hadn’t noticed.
Eventually there was light in the eastern sky, and a glorious sunrise. What right did the sun have to rise so splendidly upon a scene such as this? Why did the birds sing with such joy in the presence of such suffering? Helena and Jasmine were still occasionally crying out in their agony. Would this never end for them? Surely it couldn’t be much longer?
During that early morning Cassia’s vigil ended. Helena went next, soon after dawn, and quite violently. She suddenly found herself suffocating, and desperately tried to push herself up for breath, but she just did not have the strength left to do it. She abruptly stopped crying out, and Cassia found Helena staring at her through sightless eyes. Once again, Cassia gently closed them.
She went to Jasmine’s cross.
“Jasmine! Jasmine! I’m so sorry, Helena and Rebecca have gone. You can let go now! I won’t let the crows get them, I’ll see you all get respect, I promise!”
Jasmine was breathing vocally, every breath was a small sound, but her eyes opened, and she looked at Jasmine, and she smiled.
“Oh, my Jasmine, my poor Jasmine! Now you wish you’d never let them crucify you!”
Jasmine looked directly at Cassia. Slowly but definitely, she shook her head.
Then she gasped, a different sounding gasp, and sighed, closed her eyes by herself, and then she was completely still, the smile still on her face.
Cassia clung to Jasmine’s body as though her life depended on it, her tears mingling with Jasmine’s blood.
It was almost an hour before the guards opened the gate and found her, naked, weeping, and still clinging to her dead, crucified, lover.
Hondoboot2
QUAESTOR PULCHRITUDINIS
I don't know what to say Sir Wragg, what a fantastic chapter. Beautifully written, I could feel the passion of the two lovers
This story is sure to be a CF classic!
Whew Wragg, that's quite an emotional roller coaster!
"Your will to live is still too strong. The cross will have to take you, in its own time.”
And it does take it's own time, drawing us in on the harsh journey, leaving us at the end drained and clinjging like Casia to the drama we have shared.
Repertor
Artifex Imaginum
Wonderful how you explore the human mind. Cassia beginning to understand... Helena suspecting Jasmine... The complex relation between the four women is so well thought and psychologically elaborated.
Towards the end it becomes very moving when they die one by one, leaving Cassia alone with her sadness.
This last part is so hot and yet so full of emotion. A really beautiful piece of writing for which I can't find the appropriate superlatives.
Towards the end it becomes very moving when they die one by one, leaving Cassia alone with her sadness.
This last part is so hot and yet so full of emotion. A really beautiful piece of writing for which I can't find the appropriate superlatives.
shastar
Tribune
Eroticism, drama, emotion and elegant writing... Wragg, I lack words to express my admiration
I'll second Hondo: this IS a CF classic !
Aww, thanks, everyone. Means a lot.
Sex on the cross? We've discussed it elsewhere and agreed that in reality it is highly unlikely that someone crucified could experience orgasm.
But, as Repertor says, there is so much here to explore, so much more than three victims waiting to die. Helena bitter, Rebecca accepting, Jasmine, as Repertor graphically depicts, is still aroused, and poor Cassia really is tossed about on the raging seas of these emotions.
There is a little bit still to come...
Sex on the cross? We've discussed it elsewhere and agreed that in reality it is highly unlikely that someone crucified could experience orgasm.
But, as Repertor says, there is so much here to explore, so much more than three victims waiting to die. Helena bitter, Rebecca accepting, Jasmine, as Repertor graphically depicts, is still aroused, and poor Cassia really is tossed about on the raging seas of these emotions.
There is a little bit still to come...
Part 12: The Midden Heap
Cassia got dressed, and turned to the guards. Politely, she informed them that if they let any harm come to Jasmine, Rebecca, or Helena she would personally dig their eyeballs out.
Then she went into the city where she arranged to have the bodies collected, and promised to return later with some clothes for them, and to make the funeral arrangements.
As she headed towards the Calphurnus villa, she wondered who would inherit it, given that Calphurnus and both his children had died within the space of two days.
She knocked on the door. Alexia, Calphurnus’ Nubian housekeeper, opened it.
“Miss Cassia. Good day.” She bowed to Cassia.
“Alexia, I wondered if I could take some clothes so that Jasmine, Helena, and Rebecca can have some dignity on their final journey?”
Alexia burst into tears, and for a few moments Cassia found herself comforting the distraught slave.
“It’s just so….awful, Miss Cassia! I can’t believe that they are all dead! Crucified! It could be me next!”
Cassia hoped not. She’d had her fill of crucifixion for a lifetime. Alexia babbled on, pouring out a stream of woes and injustices, and Cassia was barely listening, until something brought her up short.
“What? What did you say?”
“I said, ‘ I don’t know if Miss Josephine will keep me on.’”
“Josephine? The Proconsul’s daughter? What’s she got to do with anything?”
“It’s her house, now, Miss Cassia. Her father gave it to her as a birthday present.“
Cassia’s head was spinning. “I don’t understand? Jasmine’s house – a birthday present?”
“It’s a dowry, Miss… her father wants her to marry a Senator.”
“But…but…how?”
“Master Marcus owed the Proconsul a lot of money, Miss. When he inherited it he passed the deeds straight over to the Proconsul.”
Cassia assimilated this information. Things had worked out very nicely indeed for the Proconsul. Calphurnus had long been a political enemy of his. Nice to get rid of him, and let the two slaves take the blame. Marcus was of no use to him, either way, and his death would not have bothered him, but Jasmine would have made trouble. She would have moved heaven and earth to block the Proconsul; whether or not she would have succeeded, the fact that she had just gasped out her final breath on the Proconsul’s cross was extremely convenient for the Proconsul. And now, his daughter Josie was a woman of property. A very attractive marriage prospect, and being father-in-law to a Senator would do the Proconsul no harm at all.
And this was the man who had the power of justice in this city. Helena, Rebecca, and Jasmine had never had a chance. Cassia felt the fury boiling up inside her. Part of that fury was sheer impotence. What could she do?
Suddenly, Alexia was bowing again. Cassia turned, and there was the Proconsul, with his daughter holding his arm.
Stiffly, Cassia bowed.
“Good morning, Cassia,” said the Proconsul.
“Hi Cass,” said Josie.
“Good morning. I gather this is your house now.”
“Yes. I am to marry senator Aelius.”
“Congratulations, Josie.”
“Thanks, Cass….look, I’m really sorry about Jasmine. I know you were very fond of her.”
“Yeah, thanks Josie. I’m sorry, too.”
“I understand you stayed with her all night,” added the Proconsul, flatly.
“I did.”
“Hanging around crucifixion grounds giving comfort to convicted criminals is unwise, Cassia. Anyway, I hear they’re dead now. They are taking the bodies down as we speak.”
“What? No! I’ve arranged for them to be collected and given a decent funeral!”
“So I heard. I’ve overridden that. I, er, I found myself having to promise the guards that no harm would come to their eyeballs.” He glared at Cassia.
“How…how could you?”
“I do not have to justify myself to you, young lady! They are convicted criminals! Your friend Jasmine will go on the midden heap with all the other rubbish!”
Cassia fought to contain herself. She was truly livid. Josie avoided looking at her. There was a long silence while she composed herself. She forced herself to address him with respect.
“Sir, Jasmine was my friend. She was a good citizen. I promised her in her dying moments that I would see that she and the others were treated with respect. I will meet any costs. Sir, I politely request that I be allowed to bury them properly!”
“Request refused! If we have a public funeral it is tantamount to awarding a posthumous pardon! I repeat, they are not just criminals, they are convicted murderers! Scum! That is my final word! Now, please leave my house!”
Cassia turned and ran. She ran and ran until she reached the South Gate. There was a rubbish cart there. The thief’s body was already on it, Helena and Rebecca still hung lifelessly, and the garbage men were just getting Jasmine’s cross down. One of them started pulling out the nails, placing a foot on her arm so he could pull the nail out cleanly. The nails would fetch him a good price later; they were much sought after as good luck charms. Quite how such an instrument of terror might bring good luck was a mystery, but that didn’t trouble him.
Cassia was distraught. “Jasmine! No! Leave her alone, you bastards!”
“Sorry, Miss! Proconsul’s orders! He said you might try to interfere!” One of the guards gripped her arm.
“Let me go! Let me go!” She writhed and twisted, and the guard couldn’t hold her. She ran to Jasmine. By now Jasmine’s wrists were free and Cassia hugged her body in a final embrace as the rubbish men, grinning, freed her feet.
Cassia stroked her hair. “You were right, Jasmine. The Proconsul would never have let you go. But I’m alive, and I promise you, I will have revenge!”
This time the guards made no mistake, and pulled her away. Cassia watched, shedding tears of helpless frustration, as the bodies were dumped on the cart, and the cart departed towards the rubbish heap.
“I will have revenge!” she repeated, below her breath.
Cassia got dressed, and turned to the guards. Politely, she informed them that if they let any harm come to Jasmine, Rebecca, or Helena she would personally dig their eyeballs out.
Then she went into the city where she arranged to have the bodies collected, and promised to return later with some clothes for them, and to make the funeral arrangements.
As she headed towards the Calphurnus villa, she wondered who would inherit it, given that Calphurnus and both his children had died within the space of two days.
She knocked on the door. Alexia, Calphurnus’ Nubian housekeeper, opened it.
“Miss Cassia. Good day.” She bowed to Cassia.
“Alexia, I wondered if I could take some clothes so that Jasmine, Helena, and Rebecca can have some dignity on their final journey?”
Alexia burst into tears, and for a few moments Cassia found herself comforting the distraught slave.
“It’s just so….awful, Miss Cassia! I can’t believe that they are all dead! Crucified! It could be me next!”
Cassia hoped not. She’d had her fill of crucifixion for a lifetime. Alexia babbled on, pouring out a stream of woes and injustices, and Cassia was barely listening, until something brought her up short.
“What? What did you say?”
“I said, ‘ I don’t know if Miss Josephine will keep me on.’”
“Josephine? The Proconsul’s daughter? What’s she got to do with anything?”
“It’s her house, now, Miss Cassia. Her father gave it to her as a birthday present.“
Cassia’s head was spinning. “I don’t understand? Jasmine’s house – a birthday present?”
“It’s a dowry, Miss… her father wants her to marry a Senator.”
“But…but…how?”
“Master Marcus owed the Proconsul a lot of money, Miss. When he inherited it he passed the deeds straight over to the Proconsul.”
Cassia assimilated this information. Things had worked out very nicely indeed for the Proconsul. Calphurnus had long been a political enemy of his. Nice to get rid of him, and let the two slaves take the blame. Marcus was of no use to him, either way, and his death would not have bothered him, but Jasmine would have made trouble. She would have moved heaven and earth to block the Proconsul; whether or not she would have succeeded, the fact that she had just gasped out her final breath on the Proconsul’s cross was extremely convenient for the Proconsul. And now, his daughter Josie was a woman of property. A very attractive marriage prospect, and being father-in-law to a Senator would do the Proconsul no harm at all.
And this was the man who had the power of justice in this city. Helena, Rebecca, and Jasmine had never had a chance. Cassia felt the fury boiling up inside her. Part of that fury was sheer impotence. What could she do?
Suddenly, Alexia was bowing again. Cassia turned, and there was the Proconsul, with his daughter holding his arm.
Stiffly, Cassia bowed.
“Good morning, Cassia,” said the Proconsul.
“Hi Cass,” said Josie.
“Good morning. I gather this is your house now.”
“Yes. I am to marry senator Aelius.”
“Congratulations, Josie.”
“Thanks, Cass….look, I’m really sorry about Jasmine. I know you were very fond of her.”
“Yeah, thanks Josie. I’m sorry, too.”
“I understand you stayed with her all night,” added the Proconsul, flatly.
“I did.”
“Hanging around crucifixion grounds giving comfort to convicted criminals is unwise, Cassia. Anyway, I hear they’re dead now. They are taking the bodies down as we speak.”
“What? No! I’ve arranged for them to be collected and given a decent funeral!”
“So I heard. I’ve overridden that. I, er, I found myself having to promise the guards that no harm would come to their eyeballs.” He glared at Cassia.
“How…how could you?”
“I do not have to justify myself to you, young lady! They are convicted criminals! Your friend Jasmine will go on the midden heap with all the other rubbish!”
Cassia fought to contain herself. She was truly livid. Josie avoided looking at her. There was a long silence while she composed herself. She forced herself to address him with respect.
“Sir, Jasmine was my friend. She was a good citizen. I promised her in her dying moments that I would see that she and the others were treated with respect. I will meet any costs. Sir, I politely request that I be allowed to bury them properly!”
“Request refused! If we have a public funeral it is tantamount to awarding a posthumous pardon! I repeat, they are not just criminals, they are convicted murderers! Scum! That is my final word! Now, please leave my house!”
Cassia turned and ran. She ran and ran until she reached the South Gate. There was a rubbish cart there. The thief’s body was already on it, Helena and Rebecca still hung lifelessly, and the garbage men were just getting Jasmine’s cross down. One of them started pulling out the nails, placing a foot on her arm so he could pull the nail out cleanly. The nails would fetch him a good price later; they were much sought after as good luck charms. Quite how such an instrument of terror might bring good luck was a mystery, but that didn’t trouble him.
Cassia was distraught. “Jasmine! No! Leave her alone, you bastards!”
“Sorry, Miss! Proconsul’s orders! He said you might try to interfere!” One of the guards gripped her arm.
“Let me go! Let me go!” She writhed and twisted, and the guard couldn’t hold her. She ran to Jasmine. By now Jasmine’s wrists were free and Cassia hugged her body in a final embrace as the rubbish men, grinning, freed her feet.
Cassia stroked her hair. “You were right, Jasmine. The Proconsul would never have let you go. But I’m alive, and I promise you, I will have revenge!”
This time the guards made no mistake, and pulled her away. Cassia watched, shedding tears of helpless frustration, as the bodies were dumped on the cart, and the cart departed towards the rubbish heap.
“I will have revenge!” she repeated, below her breath.
Part 13: Aelius
Aelius, the Senator, did not in fact move into Calphurnus’ old house with his new bride. He already had a perfectly comfortable villa, and Calphurnus’ relatively modest place was of no interest to him. His new wife was a delight to him, however, perfect in every way – a perfect hostess, a perfect manager of the house and slaves, a perfect ‘trophy’ wife to show off at the endless social events which he had to attend, and (best of all) she drove him wild with passion in bed. Aelius was truly the happiest man in the empire.
She quickly bore him a strong, healthy son, also named Aelius. Then Aelius the elder, now that he had an heir, was pleased to be able to industriously engage in the process of producing a spare.
Nine months later, he became the proud father, not of another son, but of a beautiful baby daughter.
“She is lovely!” he declared, the proudest of fathers. “Oh, look! She has your eyes! I’m sure she will grow up to be as beautiful as you are! Have you thought of a name for her?”
“I have, my dear,” replied Cassia. “I would like to call her ‘Jasmine.’”
He thought about it. “Yes, I like it. Good choice. Any particular reason you’d like that name?”
And so she sat there with baby Jasmine on her breast, and told him the whole story. Despite the years that had passed since Jasmine’s crucifixion, the tears she wept were bitter. Aelius himself had no love for the Proconsul, he remembered how the Proconsul had tried to palm off his ugly daughter onto him using some poxy villa as dowry, how he’d been rescued in the nick of time by the lovely Cassia, an heiress in her own right, who had swept him off his feet.
The Proconsul was clearly utterly corrupt, and his fate was sealed.
No-one knew how it came to be there, but his naked body was found on the midden heap barely a week after Jasmine was born. There was evidence of torture, including nail wounds in his wrists and heels.
Equally unaccountably, at exactly that time, the Carnifex and his two assistants found themselves with the wherewithal to be able to retire in some comfort to the popular and well-known coastal town of Herculaneum. They were pleased to have performed their last crucifixion.
And at least the Carnifex didn’t end up on a midden heap.
THE END
Aelius, the Senator, did not in fact move into Calphurnus’ old house with his new bride. He already had a perfectly comfortable villa, and Calphurnus’ relatively modest place was of no interest to him. His new wife was a delight to him, however, perfect in every way – a perfect hostess, a perfect manager of the house and slaves, a perfect ‘trophy’ wife to show off at the endless social events which he had to attend, and (best of all) she drove him wild with passion in bed. Aelius was truly the happiest man in the empire.
She quickly bore him a strong, healthy son, also named Aelius. Then Aelius the elder, now that he had an heir, was pleased to be able to industriously engage in the process of producing a spare.
Nine months later, he became the proud father, not of another son, but of a beautiful baby daughter.
“She is lovely!” he declared, the proudest of fathers. “Oh, look! She has your eyes! I’m sure she will grow up to be as beautiful as you are! Have you thought of a name for her?”
“I have, my dear,” replied Cassia. “I would like to call her ‘Jasmine.’”
He thought about it. “Yes, I like it. Good choice. Any particular reason you’d like that name?”
And so she sat there with baby Jasmine on her breast, and told him the whole story. Despite the years that had passed since Jasmine’s crucifixion, the tears she wept were bitter. Aelius himself had no love for the Proconsul, he remembered how the Proconsul had tried to palm off his ugly daughter onto him using some poxy villa as dowry, how he’d been rescued in the nick of time by the lovely Cassia, an heiress in her own right, who had swept him off his feet.
The Proconsul was clearly utterly corrupt, and his fate was sealed.
No-one knew how it came to be there, but his naked body was found on the midden heap barely a week after Jasmine was born. There was evidence of torture, including nail wounds in his wrists and heels.
Equally unaccountably, at exactly that time, the Carnifex and his two assistants found themselves with the wherewithal to be able to retire in some comfort to the popular and well-known coastal town of Herculaneum. They were pleased to have performed their last crucifixion.
And at least the Carnifex didn’t end up on a midden heap.
THE END
shastar
Tribune
shastar
Tribune
OK Wragg... This is just incredible... I feel so small now... For the first time in my life, I'd like to be born as an English-speaking guy...
Thank you, man ! Bravo !