Not a big thing Juan. Maybe more later. I like today analog paint.
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J
Juan1234
Guest
Part 30:
There they were - a huge crowd just below her, filling and overflowing the road - thousands of jeering Roman faces laughing up at her. It felt like so many more people now that she was hanging above them on her cross and could see more of them. This was comedy to them! And the thought choked her with a fresh wave of humiliation. To them, she was only fodder for their entertainment. It was an absurd sight to see a woman stripped naked and hoisted to hang before them like this - and the absurdity was delightful to them.
For months, she had envisioned this day - the day if her execution - as her supreme sacrifice for her people. She would undergo whatever tortures the Roman's had in store for her, and she would face it all with the dignity befitting a princess of the Amunians. There would be beauty in the tragedy. But no. Now that she was hanging naked before the crowd, she knew they had taken the dignity she swore never to abandon. She wept and sobbed like a child. She was a joke for the entertainment of the masses.
The pain was constant, but each passing moment sapped her mind's resistance to it, and she was nearing panic. At first she tried to dig her bound heals into the stipes, as if she might somehow be able to relieve the throbbing torture in her wrists. But she quickly found that the movement of her legs in this effort only strained the nail holes more. Trying to sit against the stake was little better; as she had been hauled up, her bare, striped bottom had chafed against the rough wood, but now that she was in place, she wood was smooth, where condemned men before her had rubbed their naked buttocks for countless hours as they died.
"Rego!" she finally cried, hoarse and panicked. "Please give me a place to stand!"
Brutus and his men laughed. Rego looked up at her with sorrow, then shook his head.
"You won't be given a footrest, My Lady," he said, in soft grief.
"Will my feet not be nailed!?" she barely had the energy to call her up her voice, but the panic of the pain was driving her to a frenzy.
"Oh, we'll get to that!" grinned Brutus.
Rego paused a moment, then, "directly to the stake, Kirana."
Kirana tossed her head back in despair as renewed tears flowed from her red eyes. "Do it then!!" She managed to scream.
"Oh, but we're not ready yet, Princess!" complained Brutus. "Can't we do it after I've had some wine?"
"Brutus!" Rego's tone was suddenly and unnervingly firm. "Nail her feet."
Again, Kirana reflected on the absurdity of her gratitude for such a terrible order.
Brutus again looked at Rego with the same half-smiling, half-vanquished contempt, as if he were trying to decide whether to defy the order. But then he obeyed.
As Brutus and his men approached the princess, she swallowed hard, as the reality of the nails in their hands was grimmer than her theoretical longing just a moment before. Here they came! Soon the ropes were around her legs, tying her in place so she couldn't struggle when they drove the nails through her. Her feet were barely higher than they had been when they had hung free; her legs were bent just slightly, allowing them to hold the soles of her feet flat against the face of the stipes. She was breathing hard now, trying to prepare. Then the nail point was at her left foot, just below the ankle. She couldn't move! She shouldn't have asked for this! Nonsense - it would have come anyway.
Tink! She arched her back involuntary and screamed as the wood shuddered with the hammer blow. Three more blows, and the spike was deep into the wood, pinning her foot forever to the stake, sole flat against it. Her head was thrashing uncontrollably despite the pain the motion caused her.
Next foot. A fourth long, think nail. This was truly it - after this, she would never again move any of her limbs. She could barely move her right foot anyway, as it was bound so tightly to the left foot and to the cross, but her mind still begged them to wait. Wait! She wasn't ready!
The nail point against her foot. A deep breath, gritting her teeth. A hammer blow, and a scream. Another. Another, and then a fourth, to sink the nail head into her flesh. They cut away the restraining ropes so that she was supported and covered by absolutely nothing but the four iron nails that would slowly drain her young life away. She was crucified.
(To be continued...)
There they were - a huge crowd just below her, filling and overflowing the road - thousands of jeering Roman faces laughing up at her. It felt like so many more people now that she was hanging above them on her cross and could see more of them. This was comedy to them! And the thought choked her with a fresh wave of humiliation. To them, she was only fodder for their entertainment. It was an absurd sight to see a woman stripped naked and hoisted to hang before them like this - and the absurdity was delightful to them.
For months, she had envisioned this day - the day if her execution - as her supreme sacrifice for her people. She would undergo whatever tortures the Roman's had in store for her, and she would face it all with the dignity befitting a princess of the Amunians. There would be beauty in the tragedy. But no. Now that she was hanging naked before the crowd, she knew they had taken the dignity she swore never to abandon. She wept and sobbed like a child. She was a joke for the entertainment of the masses.
The pain was constant, but each passing moment sapped her mind's resistance to it, and she was nearing panic. At first she tried to dig her bound heals into the stipes, as if she might somehow be able to relieve the throbbing torture in her wrists. But she quickly found that the movement of her legs in this effort only strained the nail holes more. Trying to sit against the stake was little better; as she had been hauled up, her bare, striped bottom had chafed against the rough wood, but now that she was in place, she wood was smooth, where condemned men before her had rubbed their naked buttocks for countless hours as they died.
"Rego!" she finally cried, hoarse and panicked. "Please give me a place to stand!"
Brutus and his men laughed. Rego looked up at her with sorrow, then shook his head.
"You won't be given a footrest, My Lady," he said, in soft grief.
"Will my feet not be nailed!?" she barely had the energy to call her up her voice, but the panic of the pain was driving her to a frenzy.
"Oh, we'll get to that!" grinned Brutus.
Rego paused a moment, then, "directly to the stake, Kirana."
Kirana tossed her head back in despair as renewed tears flowed from her red eyes. "Do it then!!" She managed to scream.
"Oh, but we're not ready yet, Princess!" complained Brutus. "Can't we do it after I've had some wine?"
"Brutus!" Rego's tone was suddenly and unnervingly firm. "Nail her feet."
Again, Kirana reflected on the absurdity of her gratitude for such a terrible order.
Brutus again looked at Rego with the same half-smiling, half-vanquished contempt, as if he were trying to decide whether to defy the order. But then he obeyed.
As Brutus and his men approached the princess, she swallowed hard, as the reality of the nails in their hands was grimmer than her theoretical longing just a moment before. Here they came! Soon the ropes were around her legs, tying her in place so she couldn't struggle when they drove the nails through her. Her feet were barely higher than they had been when they had hung free; her legs were bent just slightly, allowing them to hold the soles of her feet flat against the face of the stipes. She was breathing hard now, trying to prepare. Then the nail point was at her left foot, just below the ankle. She couldn't move! She shouldn't have asked for this! Nonsense - it would have come anyway.
Tink! She arched her back involuntary and screamed as the wood shuddered with the hammer blow. Three more blows, and the spike was deep into the wood, pinning her foot forever to the stake, sole flat against it. Her head was thrashing uncontrollably despite the pain the motion caused her.
Next foot. A fourth long, think nail. This was truly it - after this, she would never again move any of her limbs. She could barely move her right foot anyway, as it was bound so tightly to the left foot and to the cross, but her mind still begged them to wait. Wait! She wasn't ready!
The nail point against her foot. A deep breath, gritting her teeth. A hammer blow, and a scream. Another. Another, and then a fourth, to sink the nail head into her flesh. They cut away the restraining ropes so that she was supported and covered by absolutely nothing but the four iron nails that would slowly drain her young life away. She was crucified.
(To be continued...)
Ted Parry
Governor
Excellent - Lets hope Madiosi comes through with a few more of his illustrations to support your very descriptive and moving narration …. The reader feels as if they are up there on the stipe with her …Bravo.
J
Juan1234
Guest
Thank you both - so glad you're enjoying it. And yes, I think Madiosi can make this ten times the story I can.By God, but you write well, Juan!
J
Juan1234
Guest
Part 31:
It was over. Here she was, naked and on display, nailed to her cross and unable to move. In fact, the most mobile part of her body now was her pelvic area - the part of her she was most humiliated to have exposed to the crowd. Slowly she shifted the weight of her hanging body from the nails through her wrists to the nails through her feet, then back, thereby sliding her bare buttocks up and down a little way along the cross, much to the crowd's delight. She tried, but couldn't keep her legs completely together; she knew thousands of pairs of greedy eyes were gobbling up her shaven vulva. Every muscle in her slender body was taut and tense, balancing agony against agony, and humiliation against humiliation.
It was like when she had had to wait for the soldiers to nail her to her cross, or to raise her on it. Here she was, on display, waiting for... what? For death, she supposed, but death was days away. She was not waiting now. She was only existing. Suffering. Being punished - severely. Life was punishment. Existence was suffering. Consciousness was shame.
She remembered Brutus' words: "You have no idea how completely I'm going to destroy you, Princess!" It was true - she hadn't understood. Now she began to understand, but her mind rebelled, too repulsed by the sickening possibilities of the full meaning of her crucifixion. She was no longer a princess. She was only even human in the ways that brought her shame and pain: she had intimate human female parts for the crowd to gawk at, and she could feel her torture. These summed up the Roman's reason for letting her exist.
The seconds ticked by. No relief. No change. Agony.
More seconds, looking out over the sea of rowdy faces below her, as they looked her up and down, gazing at her nipples, her stretched belly, her bare sex... She couldn't cover herself. With her arms spread above her, she could only hang there, inviting them to take in every inch of her naked body.
More seconds. This had to stop! She had borne it as long as she could - she needed a respite! Panic. She began to moan, over her heavy breaths, her eyes wide. Just a moment's rest! She would gladly return to suffer and die if she could have but a moment's relief! None would come.
She cried a low, tortured cry, throwing her head back and lifting herself just slightly on the nails. It was too much! Then she felt warm urine trickling down her thigh. Oh, the shame! Thousands of gleeful faces laughed and pointed. The urine stung as it found the nail holes in her feet. This was why she existed - to endure this.
More seconds. Minutes? Perhaps minutes had gone by? She hoped so. How many days would she hang here before it killed her? And then, how many more days would the naked body of the Princess of Amunia adorn Rome's eastern gate? For how many more days would the emperor point out her corpse in triumph to his guests?
Then there was a disturbance in the crowd. They were bringing Yupar forward.
At the whipping post, she had had to strip to the waist to present her bare skin unprotected to the lash. It was necessary to inflict the pain. With Maximus the ape, she had had to bare her private parts so that the ape could violate her. Otherwise she could not have been so abused. Now, though, she was naked, not to uncover her wrists and feet for the nails, but purely and simply so that she would be naked. So that she would face the humiliation of displaying her body to the eyes of the Roman public.
(To be continued...)
It was over. Here she was, naked and on display, nailed to her cross and unable to move. In fact, the most mobile part of her body now was her pelvic area - the part of her she was most humiliated to have exposed to the crowd. Slowly she shifted the weight of her hanging body from the nails through her wrists to the nails through her feet, then back, thereby sliding her bare buttocks up and down a little way along the cross, much to the crowd's delight. She tried, but couldn't keep her legs completely together; she knew thousands of pairs of greedy eyes were gobbling up her shaven vulva. Every muscle in her slender body was taut and tense, balancing agony against agony, and humiliation against humiliation.
It was like when she had had to wait for the soldiers to nail her to her cross, or to raise her on it. Here she was, on display, waiting for... what? For death, she supposed, but death was days away. She was not waiting now. She was only existing. Suffering. Being punished - severely. Life was punishment. Existence was suffering. Consciousness was shame.
She remembered Brutus' words: "You have no idea how completely I'm going to destroy you, Princess!" It was true - she hadn't understood. Now she began to understand, but her mind rebelled, too repulsed by the sickening possibilities of the full meaning of her crucifixion. She was no longer a princess. She was only even human in the ways that brought her shame and pain: she had intimate human female parts for the crowd to gawk at, and she could feel her torture. These summed up the Roman's reason for letting her exist.
The seconds ticked by. No relief. No change. Agony.
More seconds, looking out over the sea of rowdy faces below her, as they looked her up and down, gazing at her nipples, her stretched belly, her bare sex... She couldn't cover herself. With her arms spread above her, she could only hang there, inviting them to take in every inch of her naked body.
More seconds. This had to stop! She had borne it as long as she could - she needed a respite! Panic. She began to moan, over her heavy breaths, her eyes wide. Just a moment's rest! She would gladly return to suffer and die if she could have but a moment's relief! None would come.
She cried a low, tortured cry, throwing her head back and lifting herself just slightly on the nails. It was too much! Then she felt warm urine trickling down her thigh. Oh, the shame! Thousands of gleeful faces laughed and pointed. The urine stung as it found the nail holes in her feet. This was why she existed - to endure this.
More seconds. Minutes? Perhaps minutes had gone by? She hoped so. How many days would she hang here before it killed her? And then, how many more days would the naked body of the Princess of Amunia adorn Rome's eastern gate? For how many more days would the emperor point out her corpse in triumph to his guests?
Then there was a disturbance in the crowd. They were bringing Yupar forward.
At the whipping post, she had had to strip to the waist to present her bare skin unprotected to the lash. It was necessary to inflict the pain. With Maximus the ape, she had had to bare her private parts so that the ape could violate her. Otherwise she could not have been so abused. Now, though, she was naked, not to uncover her wrists and feet for the nails, but purely and simply so that she would be naked. So that she would face the humiliation of displaying her body to the eyes of the Roman public.
(To be continued...)
Last edited by a moderator:
J
Juan1234
Guest
Sorry, should I slow down?
Ted Parry
Governor
Sorry, should I slow down?
No Way .... It's brilliant ... can't wait for the inevitable ... Hope Yupar comes through this but ...
J
Juan1234
Guest
In part 24 (post 215), I want to add a short paragraph after the paragraph that ends with "Her whole body was exposed!"
Here it is:
At the whipping post, she had had to strip to the waist to present her bare skin unprotected to the lash. It was necessary to inflict the pain. With Maximus the ape, she had had to bare her private parts so that the ape could violate her. Otherwise she could not have been so abused. Now, though, she was naked, not to uncover her wrists and feet for the nails, but purely and simply so that she would be naked. So that she would face the humiliation of displaying her body to the eyes of the Roman public.
Hope you all like this thought...
Here it is:
At the whipping post, she had had to strip to the waist to present her bare skin unprotected to the lash. It was necessary to inflict the pain. With Maximus the ape, she had had to bare her private parts so that the ape could violate her. Otherwise she could not have been so abused. Now, though, she was naked, not to uncover her wrists and feet for the nails, but purely and simply so that she would be naked. So that she would face the humiliation of displaying her body to the eyes of the Roman public.
Hope you all like this thought...
J
Juan1234
Guest
EULALIA! Make this change - NOW. No, you may not wear your undies.In part 24 (post 215), I want to add a short paragraph after the paragraph that ends with "Her whole body was exposed!"
Here it is:
At the whipping post, she had had to strip to the waist to present her bare skin unprotected to the lash. It was necessary to inflict the pain. With Maximus the ape, she had had to bare her private parts so that the ape could violate her. Otherwise she could not have been so abused. Now, though, she was naked, not to uncover her wrists and feet for the nails, but purely and simply so that she would be naked. So that she would face the humiliation of displaying her body to the eyes of the Roman public.
Hope you all like this thought...
Ted Parry
Governor
It's OK Eul .... I've got the whole story as a text file (with spelling corrections) You can crib if you like, I won't tell anyone !
Wow!!!!!!!!!!! Nicely written!
J
Juan1234
Guest
Thanks for doing that, Ted. I don't have the story. For reasons of secrity/paranoia, I just write it in spare moments in the men's room, then delete each episode once it's posted. Good to know someone has a backup.
J
Juan1234
Guest
Thanks.
Ted Parry
Governor
Thanks for doing that, Ted. I don't have the story. For reasons of secrity/paranoia, I just write it in spare moments in the men's room, then delete each episode once it's posted. Good to know someone has a backup.
No problem at all mate .... as intimated i've been checking as I go along (nothing to disastrous) I am an ex-printer so it comes with the territory. I use a Mac so I can't post the usual text files but I could drop it straight to you inbox.
J
Juan1234
Guest
I think thi is one of the things that has always tuned me on about crucifixion. The condemned is required to get naked for the execution, but it's not like stripping for a whipping, where it has a practical purpose. There's really no reason why anybody HAS to be naked to be nailed to a cross - they would still die, and it would still hurt just as much if they were fully clothed. But they have to be naked, just for the sake of forcing them to be naked. Does that turn on anybody else like it does me?In part 24 (post 215), I want to add a short paragraph after the paragraph that ends with "Her whole body was exposed!"
Here it is:
At the whipping post, she had had to strip to the waist to present her bare skin unprotected to the lash. It was necessary to inflict the pain. With Maximus the ape, she had had to bare her private parts so that the ape could violate her. Otherwise she could not have been so abused. Now, though, she was naked, not to uncover her wrists and feet for the nails, but purely and simply so that she would be naked. So that she would face the humiliation of displaying her body to the eyes of the Roman public.
Hope you all like this thought...
Most everyone on this site I should think
sorry Sir, this slavegirl's been much too slow, but it's done now.
Without undies. Of course.
Kneeling for Punishment...
I think having weird feelings like that is why we're here,
whether we're men or girls, crucifiers or crucifixae.
