xso
Tribune
Oh no, yet another twisted unbelievable story with a female Christ theme....... 
This time it is an "alternative history" tale in a parallel universe, it is AD 19 in Roman occupied Palestine. The protagonists are Sarah of Nazareth, a masochistic submissive lesbian healer and prophetess, and Ponta Pilata, the lesbian sadistic dominant Roman provincial Governess.
The first chapter describes Sarah, and her very busy life healing people. Simultaneously, she struggles with her inner demons......
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Sarah of Nazareth and Ponta Pilata - A love story
Chapter one - Sarah of Nazareth
In the heart of the ancient city of Jerusalem, a young woman named Sarah of Nazareth walked with grace through the narrow stone streets. The sun cast a golden glow on her wavy blonde hair that cascaded down her back like a waterfall. Her piercing blue eyes sparkled with an otherworldly light, capturing the attention of all who crossed her path.
"Shalom, Sarah!" called out a merchant from his stall, admiring her beauty as she passed by.
"Shalom," she replied with a warm smile, her cheeks rosy from the heat of the day.
As Sarah continued her journey, the bustling marketplace seemed to vibrate with life and energy. The air was thick with the scent of spices and freshly baked bread, while the chatter of bargaining and gossip filled the atmosphere. It was a time when the city was an important hub for trade, religion, and politics, and its diverse residents thrived in the shadow of the great temple that dominated the skyline.
"Sarah! Just the person I've been looking for," exclaimed a frail old man, emerging from a darkened corner. His hands trembled as he grasped onto her arm for support.
"Yitzhak, you know you can often find me here," she said softly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "What do you need?"
"Please, Sarah, my wife is unwell again. Can you come see her?" he pleaded, desperation clear in the way his voice quivered.
"Of course, Yitzhak. I will be there shortly," she assured him, her compassionate gaze never wavering.
As Yitzhak thanked her and disappeared back into the shadows, Sarah's thoughts drifted to the hidden desires that haunted her dreams.
She envisioned herself, naked and bound tightly to a Roman cross. Her pale white skin was flush with excitement, her nipples erect and pussy dripping in arousal. The rough wood biting into her flesh as she struggled against the restraints and the nails piercing her flesh. Her body writhing in ecstasy as she surrendered herself completely to the pain.
The thought left her breathless, a strange mix of fear and exhilaration coursing through her veins.This was the masochistic dilemma that troubled Sarah's mind day and night.....
"Sarah?" spoke a familiar voice, shaking her from her reverie. It was Leah, a childhood friend who had recently become one of Sarah's most loyal followers. "You seem to be lost in thought. Are you alright?"
Sarah hesitated, the vivid images of herself on the cross still dancing behind her eyes. "Yes, I'm fine," she lied, forcing a smile. "I was just thinking about a sick woman I must visit. Let us go."
As they walked together, Sarah could not forget the weight of her secret masochistic desires. They clung to her like a heavy cloak, threatening to suffocate her with their intensity. But she knew she could never reveal them to anyone, for it would risk alienating those who relied on her divine healing abilities and unwavering faith.
"Tell me, Sarah," Leah asked as they neared their destination, "how do you find the strength to carry on with all the suffering you see each day?"
Sarah looked into her friend's concerned eyes and whispered, "It is my purpose, Leah. I can endure any pain, as long as I know that I am helping others."
Little did Leah know that Sarah's words held more truth than she could ever fathom, as the young prophetess navigated the fine line between her public persona and her private dark yearnings.
The sun was now above the horizon, casting a warm golden hue over the ancient city of Jerusalem. Sarah of Nazareth, her piercing blue eyes reflecting the vibrant colours of the sky, adjusted her simple tunic and prepared for another day filled with missions of tending to the sick and the needy.
"Sarah, there's a man just down the alley who needs your help," called out Leah, her loyal friend and follower, as she pointed towards a hunched figure sitting against a crumbling stone wall.
"Thank you, Leah," replied Sarah softly, her voice resonating with warmth and kindness.
As Sarah approached the man, she could see his body convulsing in pain, sweat dripping from his brow. A foul odor emanated from him, but Sarah's compassionate nature compelled her to draw closer.
"Sir, I am here to help you," she said gently, kneeling beside him. "Please, tell me what ails you."
The man looked up at her through tear-rimmed eyes. "I have been suffering for weeks, unable to find relief from this terrible pain in my stomach. I fear death is near."
"Have faith, dear man. I will do everything in my power to alleviate your suffering," Sarah assured him, laying her hands on his trembling abdomen.
As her fingers pressed into the man's skin, Sarah felt a surge of energy pass between them. His eyes widened in shock as the pain that had tormented him began to subside.
"By the heavens...the pain is gone," he whispered, disbelief etched on his face.
"Your faith has made you whole," Sarah responded with a loving smile, her heart swelling with satisfaction and purpose.
"May the gods bless you, Sarah of Nazareth," the man gasped, tears of gratitude streaming down his cheeks. He reached out and grasped her hand, squeezing it tightly.
"Go now, and live your life in peace," Sarah told him.
As the man stumbled away, his steps now steady and strong, Sarah's thoughts turned inward. She craved for herself a different kind of healing touch – one that would satiate her masochistic desires. But she knew that the same hands that brought comfort to others could not indulge in such carnal acts, lest she risk losing everything she held dear.
"Sarah!" Leah called out again. "There's another person in need of your help."
With a deep breath, Sarah pushed her dark crucifixion desires aside and continued on her path, offering solace and hope to those who needed it most.
As Sarah moved through the crowded streets of Jerusalem, she paused to catch her breath. The sun beat down mercilessly, casting shadows that seemed to dance in tandem with her inner turmoil. She leaned against a cool stone wall, closing her eyes as she took a moment for herself.
"Please, Sarah, help my daughter," pleaded a woman, desperation lacing her words.
Sarah opened her eyes, immediately shifting from her internal thoughts to the needs of others. She approached the woman, whose daughter lay on a makeshift cot, skin flushed and breathing laboured.
"Tell me what ails her," Sarah asked softly, reaching out to place her hand on the girl's forehead.
"High fever, relentless pain… I've tried everything, but nothing helps," the mother replied, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Let me see what I can do," Sarah murmured, focusing her energy to heal the girl. As she concentrated, her mind wandered to her hidden desires – ones she dared not speak aloud. The thought of being crucified naked, nails driven through her wrists and ankles, sent shivers down her spine. In her fantasies, the pain was both exquisite and unbearable, leaving her breathless in its intensity.
"Thank you, Sarah," the girl whispered, her fever breaking and strength returning as Sarah's healing touch worked its magic.
"Your faith has made you well," Sarah assured her with a warm smile, though her heart raced at the memory of her forbidden desires. "Go now, and live your life in peace."
"May the gods bless you, Sarah of Nazareth," the mother sobbed, her gratitude palpable.
"Thank you," Sarah replied humbly, continuing on her way to the next person in need.
As she walked, her thoughts were consumed with images of her own crucifixion. She imagined the feel of rough wood pressing into her back, the taste of blood in her mouth as she gasped for air. The humiliation of being exposed for all to see only heightened her arousal, the stark contrast between her public persona and private fantasies making it all the more tantalising.
The sun blazed overhead, casting its unrelenting heat upon the bustling streets of ancient Jerusalem. The throngs of people swarmed like bees around a hive, their voices melding into an indecipherable cacophony of chatter and laughter as they bartered in the market, exchanging goods and stories alike.
Sarah of Nazareth walked amongst them, her slender figure weaving gracefully through the crowd. Her piercing blue eyes took in the vibrant colours of fabrics that adorned the stalls, her nostrils flaring as she breathed in the rich scents of spices and freshly baked bread that wafted through the air.
"Sarah!" A voice called out, drawing her attention to a hunched old woman, who beckoned her over with a gnarled hand. "Please, help me."
"Of course," Sarah replied, her calm and compassionate demeanour ever-present as she knelt beside the woman, her long, wavy blonde hair falling gently over her shoulders. "What ails you?"
"My back... it hurts so much, dear healer," the old woman groaned, her face etched with lines of pain.
As Sarah placed her hands on the woman's back, she couldn't help but allow her mind to wander to her own hidden desires once more – the craving for suffering that consumed her thoughts when she was alone. She pictured herself again nailed to a cross, her naked body exposed to the leering gazes of those who passed by, the humiliation and pain intertwined in exquisite torment.
"Thank you, dear child," the old woman sighed as her pain dissipated under Sarah's touch, oblivious to the darkness that lurked within the young healer's heart. "Your gifts are truly divine."
"May the blessings of the divine be with you," Sarah responded, forcing a smile as she rose to her feet, her body aching with the yearning for her own twisted salvation.
"Sarah!" Leah, her closest friend and confidant, called from across the street, waving her over. "A man has collapsed just around the corner!"
"Thank you, Leah," Sarah replied, her thoughts shifting to the task at hand as she followed her friend through the throng of people. This was indeed a busy day!
As they reached the fallen man, Sarah's breath hitched in her throat. For a moment, the image before her overlapped with her own fantasies – his body twisted and contorted on the ground, sweat and blood intertwining as he writhed in agony.
"Please... help me," he rasped, his eyes filled with desperation.
"Of course," Sarah murmured, her dedication to her role as a healer and prophetess unwavering as she knelt beside the man. As she worked her healing hands upon him, her mind fought to focus on her faith and commitment to helping others, even as her darkest desires threatened to consume her once more.Soon, Sarah's magic worked once more, the man's agony stopped. It was indeed a busy day for Sarah.
As Sarah continued her journey through the crowded streets, she encountered an old blind beggar slumped against a crumbling wall. His eyes were milky white, and his hands trembled as he held out a begging bowl. "Have mercy, kind lady," he croaked.
"May you find comfort," Sarah said softly, placing a gentle hand on the man's shoulder and willing his sight to return. She felt a shiver of pleasure course through her as she imagined herself in his place – blindfolded, helpless, and exposed to the world.
"Thank you," the man gasped, tears streaming down his face as he saw the world for the first time in years.
"Be well," Sarah whispered, continuing onward with a growing unease.
The weight of her secret desires pressed upon her like a leaden shroud, and she couldn't help but feel that something terrible loomed just beyond the horizon. As night fell over Jerusalem, the shadows seemed to grow darker, more sinister, and Sarah knew that she would soon be forced to confront the twisted yearnings that haunted her dreams.
"Sarah, how much longer can you carry this burden?" she murmured to herself, feeling the cold fingers of dread curling around her heart. "How much longer until your own darkness consumes you?"
And as she walked back home through the dimly lit streets, she could not shake the growing sense of impending doom – the knowledge that her deepest, darkest desires would inevitably lead her down a path from which there could be no return.
Before Sarah arrived back home however, her magic was needed one more time this busy day.
"Sarah!" cried a young woman, rushing forward to embrace her. "I've been searching for you all day!"
"Miriam" Sarah replied, returning the hug warmly. "What is it you need?"
"Please, come quickly. My sister is gravely ill, and no one else can help her."
"Of course," Sarah said, concern etched upon her delicate features. "Lead the way."
As they hurried through the throngs of people, Sarah's thoughts drifted back to her dark desires once more. She imagined herself sprawled naked upon a rough-hewn wooden cross, her body writhing in exquisite agony as her limbs was pierced by cruel nails. A shudder of pleasure rippled through her at the thought, even as shame threatened to suffocate her.
"Here," Miriam said breathlessly, pushing open the door to her family's modest dwelling. "Please, save her."
The sickly girl lay upon a bed of straw, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Sarah knelt beside her, pressing her hands against the feverish skin. Her mind raced, torn between the need to heal and the perverse longing for her own suffering.
"By the grace of the divine," Sarah murmured, her voice trembling. "May this child be made whole once more."
As the girl's fever broke and her breathing steadied, Sarah felt a hollow emptiness gnawing at her core. What kind of person was she? A healer, seeking to ease the pain of others, while secretly wishing for her own torment on a Roman cross?
"Thank you," Miriam whispered, tears streaming down her face. "You've saved her life."
Sarah forced a smile, but it did not reach her eyes. "I'm glad I could help," she replied, haunted by the knowledge that she was a prisoner to her own twisted fantasies.
"Tell me, Sarah," Miriam asked hesitantly, as they stepped back into the crowded streets. "Is there anything I can do to repay your kindness?"
Sarah's heart hammered in her chest, the question echoing through her mind like a siren's call. Dare she ask for what she truly desired? Was it even possible to indulge in her most secret yearnings without losing herself completely?
"Miriam" she began, her voice barely audible above the din of the marketplace. "There is one thing, but I fear it may be too much to ask."
"Anything," Miriam insisted, her eyes shining with gratitude. "I owe you my sister's life."
"Then... take me to the place where criminals are crucified. I want to see a woman being executed on a cross "
The words hung heavy in the air between them, and Sarah felt a shiver of anticipation mixed with dread. As they stood there, locked in a moment of silent understanding, she knew that the line between salvation and damnation had been crossed – and there was no turning back.
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TBC
Next chapter: Ponta Pilata - Governess of the province of Judea.
This time it is an "alternative history" tale in a parallel universe, it is AD 19 in Roman occupied Palestine. The protagonists are Sarah of Nazareth, a masochistic submissive lesbian healer and prophetess, and Ponta Pilata, the lesbian sadistic dominant Roman provincial Governess.
The first chapter describes Sarah, and her very busy life healing people. Simultaneously, she struggles with her inner demons......
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Sarah of Nazareth and Ponta Pilata - A love story
Chapter one - Sarah of Nazareth
In the heart of the ancient city of Jerusalem, a young woman named Sarah of Nazareth walked with grace through the narrow stone streets. The sun cast a golden glow on her wavy blonde hair that cascaded down her back like a waterfall. Her piercing blue eyes sparkled with an otherworldly light, capturing the attention of all who crossed her path.
"Shalom, Sarah!" called out a merchant from his stall, admiring her beauty as she passed by.
"Shalom," she replied with a warm smile, her cheeks rosy from the heat of the day.
As Sarah continued her journey, the bustling marketplace seemed to vibrate with life and energy. The air was thick with the scent of spices and freshly baked bread, while the chatter of bargaining and gossip filled the atmosphere. It was a time when the city was an important hub for trade, religion, and politics, and its diverse residents thrived in the shadow of the great temple that dominated the skyline.
"Sarah! Just the person I've been looking for," exclaimed a frail old man, emerging from a darkened corner. His hands trembled as he grasped onto her arm for support.
"Yitzhak, you know you can often find me here," she said softly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "What do you need?"
"Please, Sarah, my wife is unwell again. Can you come see her?" he pleaded, desperation clear in the way his voice quivered.
"Of course, Yitzhak. I will be there shortly," she assured him, her compassionate gaze never wavering.
As Yitzhak thanked her and disappeared back into the shadows, Sarah's thoughts drifted to the hidden desires that haunted her dreams.
She envisioned herself, naked and bound tightly to a Roman cross. Her pale white skin was flush with excitement, her nipples erect and pussy dripping in arousal. The rough wood biting into her flesh as she struggled against the restraints and the nails piercing her flesh. Her body writhing in ecstasy as she surrendered herself completely to the pain.
The thought left her breathless, a strange mix of fear and exhilaration coursing through her veins.This was the masochistic dilemma that troubled Sarah's mind day and night.....
"Sarah?" spoke a familiar voice, shaking her from her reverie. It was Leah, a childhood friend who had recently become one of Sarah's most loyal followers. "You seem to be lost in thought. Are you alright?"
Sarah hesitated, the vivid images of herself on the cross still dancing behind her eyes. "Yes, I'm fine," she lied, forcing a smile. "I was just thinking about a sick woman I must visit. Let us go."
As they walked together, Sarah could not forget the weight of her secret masochistic desires. They clung to her like a heavy cloak, threatening to suffocate her with their intensity. But she knew she could never reveal them to anyone, for it would risk alienating those who relied on her divine healing abilities and unwavering faith.
"Tell me, Sarah," Leah asked as they neared their destination, "how do you find the strength to carry on with all the suffering you see each day?"
Sarah looked into her friend's concerned eyes and whispered, "It is my purpose, Leah. I can endure any pain, as long as I know that I am helping others."
Little did Leah know that Sarah's words held more truth than she could ever fathom, as the young prophetess navigated the fine line between her public persona and her private dark yearnings.
The sun was now above the horizon, casting a warm golden hue over the ancient city of Jerusalem. Sarah of Nazareth, her piercing blue eyes reflecting the vibrant colours of the sky, adjusted her simple tunic and prepared for another day filled with missions of tending to the sick and the needy.
"Sarah, there's a man just down the alley who needs your help," called out Leah, her loyal friend and follower, as she pointed towards a hunched figure sitting against a crumbling stone wall.
"Thank you, Leah," replied Sarah softly, her voice resonating with warmth and kindness.
As Sarah approached the man, she could see his body convulsing in pain, sweat dripping from his brow. A foul odor emanated from him, but Sarah's compassionate nature compelled her to draw closer.
"Sir, I am here to help you," she said gently, kneeling beside him. "Please, tell me what ails you."
The man looked up at her through tear-rimmed eyes. "I have been suffering for weeks, unable to find relief from this terrible pain in my stomach. I fear death is near."
"Have faith, dear man. I will do everything in my power to alleviate your suffering," Sarah assured him, laying her hands on his trembling abdomen.
As her fingers pressed into the man's skin, Sarah felt a surge of energy pass between them. His eyes widened in shock as the pain that had tormented him began to subside.
"By the heavens...the pain is gone," he whispered, disbelief etched on his face.
"Your faith has made you whole," Sarah responded with a loving smile, her heart swelling with satisfaction and purpose.
"May the gods bless you, Sarah of Nazareth," the man gasped, tears of gratitude streaming down his cheeks. He reached out and grasped her hand, squeezing it tightly.
"Go now, and live your life in peace," Sarah told him.
As the man stumbled away, his steps now steady and strong, Sarah's thoughts turned inward. She craved for herself a different kind of healing touch – one that would satiate her masochistic desires. But she knew that the same hands that brought comfort to others could not indulge in such carnal acts, lest she risk losing everything she held dear.
"Sarah!" Leah called out again. "There's another person in need of your help."
With a deep breath, Sarah pushed her dark crucifixion desires aside and continued on her path, offering solace and hope to those who needed it most.
As Sarah moved through the crowded streets of Jerusalem, she paused to catch her breath. The sun beat down mercilessly, casting shadows that seemed to dance in tandem with her inner turmoil. She leaned against a cool stone wall, closing her eyes as she took a moment for herself.
"Please, Sarah, help my daughter," pleaded a woman, desperation lacing her words.
Sarah opened her eyes, immediately shifting from her internal thoughts to the needs of others. She approached the woman, whose daughter lay on a makeshift cot, skin flushed and breathing laboured.
"Tell me what ails her," Sarah asked softly, reaching out to place her hand on the girl's forehead.
"High fever, relentless pain… I've tried everything, but nothing helps," the mother replied, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Let me see what I can do," Sarah murmured, focusing her energy to heal the girl. As she concentrated, her mind wandered to her hidden desires – ones she dared not speak aloud. The thought of being crucified naked, nails driven through her wrists and ankles, sent shivers down her spine. In her fantasies, the pain was both exquisite and unbearable, leaving her breathless in its intensity.
"Thank you, Sarah," the girl whispered, her fever breaking and strength returning as Sarah's healing touch worked its magic.
"Your faith has made you well," Sarah assured her with a warm smile, though her heart raced at the memory of her forbidden desires. "Go now, and live your life in peace."
"May the gods bless you, Sarah of Nazareth," the mother sobbed, her gratitude palpable.
"Thank you," Sarah replied humbly, continuing on her way to the next person in need.
As she walked, her thoughts were consumed with images of her own crucifixion. She imagined the feel of rough wood pressing into her back, the taste of blood in her mouth as she gasped for air. The humiliation of being exposed for all to see only heightened her arousal, the stark contrast between her public persona and private fantasies making it all the more tantalising.
The sun blazed overhead, casting its unrelenting heat upon the bustling streets of ancient Jerusalem. The throngs of people swarmed like bees around a hive, their voices melding into an indecipherable cacophony of chatter and laughter as they bartered in the market, exchanging goods and stories alike.
Sarah of Nazareth walked amongst them, her slender figure weaving gracefully through the crowd. Her piercing blue eyes took in the vibrant colours of fabrics that adorned the stalls, her nostrils flaring as she breathed in the rich scents of spices and freshly baked bread that wafted through the air.
"Sarah!" A voice called out, drawing her attention to a hunched old woman, who beckoned her over with a gnarled hand. "Please, help me."
"Of course," Sarah replied, her calm and compassionate demeanour ever-present as she knelt beside the woman, her long, wavy blonde hair falling gently over her shoulders. "What ails you?"
"My back... it hurts so much, dear healer," the old woman groaned, her face etched with lines of pain.
As Sarah placed her hands on the woman's back, she couldn't help but allow her mind to wander to her own hidden desires once more – the craving for suffering that consumed her thoughts when she was alone. She pictured herself again nailed to a cross, her naked body exposed to the leering gazes of those who passed by, the humiliation and pain intertwined in exquisite torment.
"Thank you, dear child," the old woman sighed as her pain dissipated under Sarah's touch, oblivious to the darkness that lurked within the young healer's heart. "Your gifts are truly divine."
"May the blessings of the divine be with you," Sarah responded, forcing a smile as she rose to her feet, her body aching with the yearning for her own twisted salvation.
"Sarah!" Leah, her closest friend and confidant, called from across the street, waving her over. "A man has collapsed just around the corner!"
"Thank you, Leah," Sarah replied, her thoughts shifting to the task at hand as she followed her friend through the throng of people. This was indeed a busy day!
As they reached the fallen man, Sarah's breath hitched in her throat. For a moment, the image before her overlapped with her own fantasies – his body twisted and contorted on the ground, sweat and blood intertwining as he writhed in agony.
"Please... help me," he rasped, his eyes filled with desperation.
"Of course," Sarah murmured, her dedication to her role as a healer and prophetess unwavering as she knelt beside the man. As she worked her healing hands upon him, her mind fought to focus on her faith and commitment to helping others, even as her darkest desires threatened to consume her once more.Soon, Sarah's magic worked once more, the man's agony stopped. It was indeed a busy day for Sarah.
As Sarah continued her journey through the crowded streets, she encountered an old blind beggar slumped against a crumbling wall. His eyes were milky white, and his hands trembled as he held out a begging bowl. "Have mercy, kind lady," he croaked.
"May you find comfort," Sarah said softly, placing a gentle hand on the man's shoulder and willing his sight to return. She felt a shiver of pleasure course through her as she imagined herself in his place – blindfolded, helpless, and exposed to the world.
"Thank you," the man gasped, tears streaming down his face as he saw the world for the first time in years.
"Be well," Sarah whispered, continuing onward with a growing unease.
The weight of her secret desires pressed upon her like a leaden shroud, and she couldn't help but feel that something terrible loomed just beyond the horizon. As night fell over Jerusalem, the shadows seemed to grow darker, more sinister, and Sarah knew that she would soon be forced to confront the twisted yearnings that haunted her dreams.
"Sarah, how much longer can you carry this burden?" she murmured to herself, feeling the cold fingers of dread curling around her heart. "How much longer until your own darkness consumes you?"
And as she walked back home through the dimly lit streets, she could not shake the growing sense of impending doom – the knowledge that her deepest, darkest desires would inevitably lead her down a path from which there could be no return.
Before Sarah arrived back home however, her magic was needed one more time this busy day.
"Sarah!" cried a young woman, rushing forward to embrace her. "I've been searching for you all day!"
"Miriam" Sarah replied, returning the hug warmly. "What is it you need?"
"Please, come quickly. My sister is gravely ill, and no one else can help her."
"Of course," Sarah said, concern etched upon her delicate features. "Lead the way."
As they hurried through the throngs of people, Sarah's thoughts drifted back to her dark desires once more. She imagined herself sprawled naked upon a rough-hewn wooden cross, her body writhing in exquisite agony as her limbs was pierced by cruel nails. A shudder of pleasure rippled through her at the thought, even as shame threatened to suffocate her.
"Here," Miriam said breathlessly, pushing open the door to her family's modest dwelling. "Please, save her."
The sickly girl lay upon a bed of straw, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Sarah knelt beside her, pressing her hands against the feverish skin. Her mind raced, torn between the need to heal and the perverse longing for her own suffering.
"By the grace of the divine," Sarah murmured, her voice trembling. "May this child be made whole once more."
As the girl's fever broke and her breathing steadied, Sarah felt a hollow emptiness gnawing at her core. What kind of person was she? A healer, seeking to ease the pain of others, while secretly wishing for her own torment on a Roman cross?
"Thank you," Miriam whispered, tears streaming down her face. "You've saved her life."
Sarah forced a smile, but it did not reach her eyes. "I'm glad I could help," she replied, haunted by the knowledge that she was a prisoner to her own twisted fantasies.
"Tell me, Sarah," Miriam asked hesitantly, as they stepped back into the crowded streets. "Is there anything I can do to repay your kindness?"
Sarah's heart hammered in her chest, the question echoing through her mind like a siren's call. Dare she ask for what she truly desired? Was it even possible to indulge in her most secret yearnings without losing herself completely?
"Miriam" she began, her voice barely audible above the din of the marketplace. "There is one thing, but I fear it may be too much to ask."
"Anything," Miriam insisted, her eyes shining with gratitude. "I owe you my sister's life."
"Then... take me to the place where criminals are crucified. I want to see a woman being executed on a cross "
The words hung heavy in the air between them, and Sarah felt a shiver of anticipation mixed with dread. As they stood there, locked in a moment of silent understanding, she knew that the line between salvation and damnation had been crossed – and there was no turning back.
---------------------------------------------------
TBC
Next chapter: Ponta Pilata - Governess of the province of Judea.
![P_&_S_Sanc3t_(1)[1].jpg](https://www.cruxforums.com/xf/data/attachments/1391/1391477-48de373674083b6945fdcbfef94ad029.jpg "P_&_S_Sanc3t_(1)[1].jpg")
![magicut_1700590689895[1].png](/xf/data/attachments/1393/1393653-ce5041ef4adde6536af3cee2b6f74813.jpg)