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J
Juan1234
Guest
I really do appreciate you remembering it and wanting more. If you weren't asking for more, I'd assume nobody cared that much, and forget about it. Thanks for your support! (Hoping for better luck finishing shorter things... See "Every Life Must End" and my new "The Guilty"...) I'll be back here eventually, though.
The new story reminded me on the old story, Juan.I really do appreciate you remembering it and wanting more. If you weren't asking for more, I'd assume nobody cared that much, and forget about it. Thanks for your support! (Hoping for better luck finishing shorter things... See "Every Life Must End" and my new "The Guilty"...) I'll be back here eventually, though.
We may go dormant a bit, but we never forget.I really do appreciate you remembering it and wanting more. If you weren't asking for more, I'd assume nobody cared that much, and forget about it. Thanks for your support! (Hoping for better luck finishing shorter things... See "Every Life Must End" and my new "The Guilty"...) I'll be back here eventually, though.
In your own time...
D
Deleted member 5693
Guest
Your writing skills are remarkable and there is a pure joy in reading your stories, Juan1234. Your art of writing is always appreciated and there will always be a hype for more of your gifts to community.
One of the greatest talents in this genre is to combine eroticism with empathy to the characters which you do just fine. Way to go and keep up the good work!
Cheers!
One of the greatest talents in this genre is to combine eroticism with empathy to the characters which you do just fine. Way to go and keep up the good work!
Cheers!
J
Juan1234
Guest
Wow - thanks everybody!!
J
Juan1234
Guest
Part 33
Brutus’ men stripped Yupar naked with a few violent tugs to her dress, bringing it to a heap at her ankles, then threw her back down on her back. She shrieked it pain, her bare legs writhing in the dust as they retrieved a long stake from their wagon.
Helpless, helpless, helplessness! Kirana’s mind would not accept her own irrelevance, her own practical and legal nonexistence. She knew that her commands meant nothing now. She was not a princess anymore, only a naked criminal in the process of being executed. She knew that she was nailed to a piece of wood and could not move – would never move again. She knew that even if she could have moved, in her current state of torture and fatigue, she could have done nothing for Yupar. And yet her mind would not give up its anguished racing. Surely there was some way…!
They had slit Yupar open between her anus and her vagina, and were now shoving the blunt narrow end of the stake up into her body. It drove Kirana mad to be so close and yet so powerless. It was intentional, she knew, which only made it worse. They were shoving her own powerlessness in her face.
She closed her eyes and let the sweat and tears roll over them and from them. The only sound from Yupar was a sort of desperate, suppressed gurgle as they steadily worked the stake deeper into her belly. When Kirana opened her eyes, she saw Yupar’s wide open like a shocked fish. She closed her eyes again and wept harder. WHY!?
Soon they had the stake as deep into Yupar’s body as they wished, and they set her upright on the side of the road, her arms outstretched, nailed to the beam, her nude form hovering and twitching over the ground, impaled on the stake between her legs. This is what they gave Kirana to watch while she hung on her cross, waiting. The seconds ambled leisurely by, each one mocking her pain and shame, each competing to last longer than the others.
Somehow the seconds turned to minutes, and the minutes turned to hours, and as the sun began to go down, the princess’s torture continued unabated. In fact it had worsened. The tiny, shallow breaths she had been able to draw in her hanging position were eventually not enough, and she had been forced to haul her body upward, having nothing to grip the cross with but the nail holes through her wrists and feet, so that she could let out the stale air in her lungs and draw a fresh breath. This she had had to do a number of times by sunset, amplifying the pain of the nails to levels she had not imagined existed. Meanwhile her muscles cramped, and she had no way to alleviate it. Gnats and flies swarmed and buzzed about her sweaty, bloody body, and in spite of the other agony she was suffering, the itching from these insects was not only noticeable but maddening.
And in spite of all these torments, she was unable to retreat inside her pain and numb herself to her shame. Even through the crushing torture of her own weight being held above the earth by four cruel nails, she was ever conscious of her nakedness, and of the jubilant crowd below, raping her with their eyes and watching her suffer.
As it grew dark, they piled wood around Yupar and lit her with fire. Kirana hoped she was already dead, but reasoned if not, the fire was a small mercy to her. The light of the fire served to illuminate Kirana’s body on the cross, so that the crowds could continue the festivities late into the night, dancing around the fire, using it to cook food, and always taunting Kirana.
Kirana did not know how long this went on. It seemed a very long time to her, as she considered that she was, at best, only halfway through her first 24 hours on the cross, still filled with life to be drained slowly from her. In reality, it was no more than an hour before the voice rang out over all the other commotion: “The emperor is slain! Everyone to your homes!”
Brutus’ men stripped Yupar naked with a few violent tugs to her dress, bringing it to a heap at her ankles, then threw her back down on her back. She shrieked it pain, her bare legs writhing in the dust as they retrieved a long stake from their wagon.
Helpless, helpless, helplessness! Kirana’s mind would not accept her own irrelevance, her own practical and legal nonexistence. She knew that her commands meant nothing now. She was not a princess anymore, only a naked criminal in the process of being executed. She knew that she was nailed to a piece of wood and could not move – would never move again. She knew that even if she could have moved, in her current state of torture and fatigue, she could have done nothing for Yupar. And yet her mind would not give up its anguished racing. Surely there was some way…!
They had slit Yupar open between her anus and her vagina, and were now shoving the blunt narrow end of the stake up into her body. It drove Kirana mad to be so close and yet so powerless. It was intentional, she knew, which only made it worse. They were shoving her own powerlessness in her face.
She closed her eyes and let the sweat and tears roll over them and from them. The only sound from Yupar was a sort of desperate, suppressed gurgle as they steadily worked the stake deeper into her belly. When Kirana opened her eyes, she saw Yupar’s wide open like a shocked fish. She closed her eyes again and wept harder. WHY!?
Soon they had the stake as deep into Yupar’s body as they wished, and they set her upright on the side of the road, her arms outstretched, nailed to the beam, her nude form hovering and twitching over the ground, impaled on the stake between her legs. This is what they gave Kirana to watch while she hung on her cross, waiting. The seconds ambled leisurely by, each one mocking her pain and shame, each competing to last longer than the others.
Somehow the seconds turned to minutes, and the minutes turned to hours, and as the sun began to go down, the princess’s torture continued unabated. In fact it had worsened. The tiny, shallow breaths she had been able to draw in her hanging position were eventually not enough, and she had been forced to haul her body upward, having nothing to grip the cross with but the nail holes through her wrists and feet, so that she could let out the stale air in her lungs and draw a fresh breath. This she had had to do a number of times by sunset, amplifying the pain of the nails to levels she had not imagined existed. Meanwhile her muscles cramped, and she had no way to alleviate it. Gnats and flies swarmed and buzzed about her sweaty, bloody body, and in spite of the other agony she was suffering, the itching from these insects was not only noticeable but maddening.
And in spite of all these torments, she was unable to retreat inside her pain and numb herself to her shame. Even through the crushing torture of her own weight being held above the earth by four cruel nails, she was ever conscious of her nakedness, and of the jubilant crowd below, raping her with their eyes and watching her suffer.
As it grew dark, they piled wood around Yupar and lit her with fire. Kirana hoped she was already dead, but reasoned if not, the fire was a small mercy to her. The light of the fire served to illuminate Kirana’s body on the cross, so that the crowds could continue the festivities late into the night, dancing around the fire, using it to cook food, and always taunting Kirana.
Kirana did not know how long this went on. It seemed a very long time to her, as she considered that she was, at best, only halfway through her first 24 hours on the cross, still filled with life to be drained slowly from her. In reality, it was no more than an hour before the voice rang out over all the other commotion: “The emperor is slain! Everyone to your homes!”
old slave
FELIS RESPICIENS
Glad to see you back.
For those of us with old brains, and too little time to repeat read the whole story, could you work into the next chapter the significance of this for us again?
I have often speculated on whether boredom would be a problem in this situation. The pain might make it hard to be really bored, but the experience would drag on, I think. Still, it's nice they give Kirana something to watch while she hangs.
And that's going to be bad for someone, I suspect (besides the emperor, I mean
).
J
Juan1234
Guest
Well, you may remember that her brother Muneth has been in the city, and he noticed that Rego was fond of Kirana, and quizzed him on whether he might be next in line to the throne. Rego didn't really want to talk, but Muneth told him to "be ready." Does that help? Sorry, I know it's not really fair to drag a story out this long in RL...
J
Juan1234
Guest
Part 34
In an instant Rego was back on the battlefield. The fire returned to his blood, the strength to his legs, the clarity to his head. He gripped his sword, and in the confusion and trampling of the road, in the deceitful and shadowy light of Yupar’s pyre, he was once more at home. He ordered the soldiers he could see:
“You! Find Quintus, Aurelius, Marcus, and Cornelius. Have them gather their men and meet me here.” A decisive nod and the soldier was sprinting toward the city gate. “You! Get these people into the city.” Again the obedient nod, and the soldiers began corralling the crowd toward the gate. Then to Brutus: “You! Put out the fire.”
“And if I will not?” returned the crucifier. Rego, who had barely looked at him, now turned to him with mortal danger in his eyes, held his sword point to the man’s throat, and responded in a low, seething voice:
“You will.” Brutus understood and obeyed.
The fire out, and the crowd’s attention diverted to their own safety, Kirana found modesty in the darkness. The chilly night breezes would not allow her to forget that she was naked in the open air, and the cold nails gave no respite for the night, but it brought her some comfort to have the privacy of being unseen as she continued her naked struggle with the cross.
Then there was a hard knock from behind, and her cross shuddered, making her cry out in pain. Again! This time she felt the spike sliding through her left foot, outward. Then quick, fidgeting hands grasped the nail from the front and removed it. It felt like a dream – even more than the rest of the day had felt. Kirana could not believe what was happening. The pain the procedure caused her prevented her from expressing the gratitude she felt for her rescuer, barely seen in the darkness. Instead her chest and belly heaved huge sighs and sobs. Pain? Relief? Grief for Yupar? She didn’t know. She didn’t know anything anymore.
When the nails through her feet had been removed, the nails in her wrists bit twice as hard as she hung from them alone, but soon the patibulum was lowered, and she sat at the base of the stipes while Rego and two of his men silently un-nailed her wrists as well. She was still sobbing too hard to speak.
“Can you stand?” asked Rego, whispering and throwing his cloak over her body. Her “no” was almost audible as she wept and tossed her head from side to side. Rego thought for a moment, then continued with his regained military brevity and confidence: “The emperor is dead. I suspect your brother killed him. We will take you to safety. When this is over, if I am emperor, you will be free. If not,” here he paused, the soldier leaving his voice, “well, they may forget about you.”
Kirana was regaining control of herself. She nodded. Rego gave a little whispered grunt, as much as to say “alright?” then scooped her up in his arms a gently as he could and carried her toward a torchlit pavilion his men were erecting as his headquarters.
In an instant Rego was back on the battlefield. The fire returned to his blood, the strength to his legs, the clarity to his head. He gripped his sword, and in the confusion and trampling of the road, in the deceitful and shadowy light of Yupar’s pyre, he was once more at home. He ordered the soldiers he could see:
“You! Find Quintus, Aurelius, Marcus, and Cornelius. Have them gather their men and meet me here.” A decisive nod and the soldier was sprinting toward the city gate. “You! Get these people into the city.” Again the obedient nod, and the soldiers began corralling the crowd toward the gate. Then to Brutus: “You! Put out the fire.”
“And if I will not?” returned the crucifier. Rego, who had barely looked at him, now turned to him with mortal danger in his eyes, held his sword point to the man’s throat, and responded in a low, seething voice:
“You will.” Brutus understood and obeyed.
The fire out, and the crowd’s attention diverted to their own safety, Kirana found modesty in the darkness. The chilly night breezes would not allow her to forget that she was naked in the open air, and the cold nails gave no respite for the night, but it brought her some comfort to have the privacy of being unseen as she continued her naked struggle with the cross.
Then there was a hard knock from behind, and her cross shuddered, making her cry out in pain. Again! This time she felt the spike sliding through her left foot, outward. Then quick, fidgeting hands grasped the nail from the front and removed it. It felt like a dream – even more than the rest of the day had felt. Kirana could not believe what was happening. The pain the procedure caused her prevented her from expressing the gratitude she felt for her rescuer, barely seen in the darkness. Instead her chest and belly heaved huge sighs and sobs. Pain? Relief? Grief for Yupar? She didn’t know. She didn’t know anything anymore.
When the nails through her feet had been removed, the nails in her wrists bit twice as hard as she hung from them alone, but soon the patibulum was lowered, and she sat at the base of the stipes while Rego and two of his men silently un-nailed her wrists as well. She was still sobbing too hard to speak.
“Can you stand?” asked Rego, whispering and throwing his cloak over her body. Her “no” was almost audible as she wept and tossed her head from side to side. Rego thought for a moment, then continued with his regained military brevity and confidence: “The emperor is dead. I suspect your brother killed him. We will take you to safety. When this is over, if I am emperor, you will be free. If not,” here he paused, the soldier leaving his voice, “well, they may forget about you.”
Kirana was regaining control of herself. She nodded. Rego gave a little whispered grunt, as much as to say “alright?” then scooped her up in his arms a gently as he could and carried her toward a torchlit pavilion his men were erecting as his headquarters.
old slave
FELIS RESPICIENS
Thank you, Juan.
J
Juan1234
Guest
Thank YOU for sticking with this story!
Yupar
Regina Iudaeorum
I'm glad you impaled me. cuz I love that too !
We do seem to be rescuing our heroines these days. A bit of a trend it seems.
We used to just throw them onto the midden of completed literature. A good bit of action. I wonder if our somewhat undecisive Rego is out of danger yet. Good to see more of this story again, Juan.
J
Juan1234
Guest
Oh, I'm so glad you're happy with it, Yupar! Feels a little risky putting friends in stories.I'm glad you impaled me. cuz I love that too !
J
Juan1234
Guest
Part 35
For the next two days, Kirana rested in a private tent provided by Rego, lying on her belly to keep her weight off of her bloodied back. Rego offered her his personal physician to tend to her wounds, but as she refused to let the physician undress her, he only tended directly to the nail wounds in her limbs, and left her various poultices and wrappings to apply herself as best she could. As she could barely move, the lacerations from her flogging went largely untended, though Brutus’ potion had mostly kept them from being infected.
It quickly became clear that Muneth was indeed the assassin, and that he had been captured as he fled. Severus was holding him in prison. Depending on whether Rego could emerge from the current instability as the Emperor of Rome, Muneth might be a King of Amunia and a trusted confidant of Rome, or he could be executed. Kirana’s thoughts constantly turned on the fate of Muneth, and of her seven ladies, of whom there had been no word.
Meanwhile, soldiers and armies formed up ranks, envoys and spies scurried back and forth between various camps, testing allegiances and forming alliances. Rego had been cautious about proclaiming himself emperor, but two other generals had declared themselves: Gaius Priscus and Julius Severus. Rego had a personal dislike of Priscus, and so had declared him an imposter, though without formally recognizing the claim of Severus. The morning of the second day, he marched to battle Priscus to the east of the city, while Severus occupied most of the city itself.
When Rego returned from battle that afternoon, he was in a sour mood, having been defeated by Priscus. Now, it seemed, the only two real contenders from the imperial title were Priscus and Severus. But despite his frustration, he went directly to Kirana’s tent to see how she was recovering.
“My lady,” he began, entering cautiously, unsure of the princess’s feelings toward him.
“Have you won?” she asked quickly. It was hard for him to reply, and he waited a moment, but finally:
“No. No, I’ve lost. I’m…” Kirana saw his eyes grow suddenly red and moist. “I’m sorry!” he said, his voice husky.
“So?” she said finally, showing little emotion as she lay there, prostrated, craning her neck up to look at him. “What will you do now?”
“Oh, if only you could travel!” Rego said it with an aching passion, “I would send you back to Amunia here and now, to be free of all this!”
“Perhaps I can travel soon.”
“Do you feel you can?” Rego was surprised, but suddenly full of hope.
“Tomorrow, maybe?”
Rego fell to one knee to hold the princess’s hand gently. “Good!” he said. “In the meantime, I must make common cause with Severus. Maybe together we can defeat Priscus.”
For the next two days, Kirana rested in a private tent provided by Rego, lying on her belly to keep her weight off of her bloodied back. Rego offered her his personal physician to tend to her wounds, but as she refused to let the physician undress her, he only tended directly to the nail wounds in her limbs, and left her various poultices and wrappings to apply herself as best she could. As she could barely move, the lacerations from her flogging went largely untended, though Brutus’ potion had mostly kept them from being infected.
It quickly became clear that Muneth was indeed the assassin, and that he had been captured as he fled. Severus was holding him in prison. Depending on whether Rego could emerge from the current instability as the Emperor of Rome, Muneth might be a King of Amunia and a trusted confidant of Rome, or he could be executed. Kirana’s thoughts constantly turned on the fate of Muneth, and of her seven ladies, of whom there had been no word.
Meanwhile, soldiers and armies formed up ranks, envoys and spies scurried back and forth between various camps, testing allegiances and forming alliances. Rego had been cautious about proclaiming himself emperor, but two other generals had declared themselves: Gaius Priscus and Julius Severus. Rego had a personal dislike of Priscus, and so had declared him an imposter, though without formally recognizing the claim of Severus. The morning of the second day, he marched to battle Priscus to the east of the city, while Severus occupied most of the city itself.
When Rego returned from battle that afternoon, he was in a sour mood, having been defeated by Priscus. Now, it seemed, the only two real contenders from the imperial title were Priscus and Severus. But despite his frustration, he went directly to Kirana’s tent to see how she was recovering.
“My lady,” he began, entering cautiously, unsure of the princess’s feelings toward him.
“Have you won?” she asked quickly. It was hard for him to reply, and he waited a moment, but finally:
“No. No, I’ve lost. I’m…” Kirana saw his eyes grow suddenly red and moist. “I’m sorry!” he said, his voice husky.
“So?” she said finally, showing little emotion as she lay there, prostrated, craning her neck up to look at him. “What will you do now?”
“Oh, if only you could travel!” Rego said it with an aching passion, “I would send you back to Amunia here and now, to be free of all this!”
“Perhaps I can travel soon.”
“Do you feel you can?” Rego was surprised, but suddenly full of hope.
“Tomorrow, maybe?”
Rego fell to one knee to hold the princess’s hand gently. “Good!” he said. “In the meantime, I must make common cause with Severus. Maybe together we can defeat Priscus.”
malins
Stumbling Seeker
good to see you back with this story,
... the story can always take a darker turn later
but once you're on the midden-heap there's not too much story-telling potential left...
So Rego surprises us, he's not as entirely useless as we've come to think of him but really ... what is he expecting!?! She might want to jump for joy but that will have to wait
as an incurable romantic I don't mind the occasional rescue...We do seem to be rescuing our heroines these days. A bit of a trend it seems.
... the story can always take a darker turn later
but once you're on the midden-heap there's not too much story-telling potential left...
windar
Teller of Tales
We do seem to be rescuing our heroines these days. A bit of a trend it seems.
I suppose I should accept some of the blame for that having, with only a couple of exceptions, not killed off anyone. It seems silly to do a lot of work to think of an interesting character and then kill them off before you've milked them for every tear, laugh, thrill or whatever. Imagine if JK Rowling had knocked Harry Potter off at the end of the first book. A whole industry would have been stifled in utero. Imagine the impact on Britain's GDP...