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She carried me.

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Piper Marie

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I am the youngest priestess in service to the goddess of the earth, blessed by her with beauty and kindness. The people loved me and I loved them and serving the goddess on their behalf. All that changed when war was declared against our country, and we were easily occupied by the invading force.

We were a peaceful people, who long valued our neutrality in the rest of the worlds affairs, a smaller country that valued worship of the goddess above all else, so we had no army of our own or any ability to resist those who conquered us.

Several weeks after the successful invasion the leaders gathered and declared that there needed to be extra assurances that the people would not rise up to lead a revolt in the future. They needed an action that would strike more fear, sadness, and despair in the people who lived here.

During that meeting it was said that the people loved me dearly because I was so kind, and how I gave of myself to the needs of the people in whatever way I could. It was decided that I would be the perfect tool against them, and It was ordered that I be crucified on an X shaped cross until death publicly so that all would know that there was no hope for them.

I was violently awakened from my peaceful sleep bound with my wrists behind my back and I was forcefully taken from my temple room that night and led before their council where they sentenced me to death. I begged and pleaded to be spared, but this only made the council laugh at my despair and fear. The men and women of the council abused me that night for hours. I was spit on, pinned down, and raped by all the men and women present. the pain and terror I felt was more than I ever have before, but I also pitied them. I begged and pleaded with them to stop in between screams of pain that eventually became little more than quiet sobs from a voice to hoarse to cry out any longer. after they had all finished with me, I lay there curled into a tiny ball in hopes they would forget about me. I must have lost consciousness because I was pulled to my feet by my long hair by a large man who was ordered to throw me into prison for the rest of the night until my death in the morning.

I was marched to the cell by said guard and violently thrown into my cell where he and another woman locked my wrists together to the wall above my head, locking me in place. That night I would receive no rest, as both the male and female guards took turns raping me until morning, when they threw several buckets of cold water onto me to both wake and clean me.

The same male guard from that night unbound my wrists and I dropped to the floor sobbing, rubbing my wrists to relieve the pain from the rusty chains that dug into my skin all night and drew blood. he kicked me in my belly and I folded up into a fetal position and vomited onto the floor around me. Then, once again yanking me up by hair like he had the night before, he bound my wrists behind me and marched me back to the council chamber where it was announced that my sentence be carried out immediately. I could say nothing at all, bound there naked, bruised, and terrified as I was, so all I did was stare at the floor.

When they have finished speaking, they marched me naked through the streets, with my wrists still bound behind me. With tears in my eyes, I looked at the crowd that had gathered and I saw those I loved, and those who loved me, men and women both that I had spent time with, being a tutor to their children, and helping their elderly. I saw the horror and the sadness in their eyes, and my heart broke for them.

Several times I was kicked from behind and I fell to the hard stones. I was exhausted from a night of being beaten and raped. Eventually, a large woman who was a soldier in the occupying force was ordered to carry me to the place where I would be executed. I flinched when she touched me, but instead of being rough with me, she carried me similar to the way a husband would carry his new bride. with heavy eyes bloodshot from crying and lack of sleep I looked up at her face as she cradled me, and I saw sadness there as she looked to me and then hurriedly looked away as she carried me to my death.

upon reaching the place where I would be put to the cross, she gently laid me down and quickly backed away from me. I still saw the look of sadness in her face from before, but she quickly masked it so nobody else would see. But I did, and I knew then that this woman I did not know, and would never know, felt sadness and pity for me, which made me feel it for her in turn.


I was turned over and my wrists unbound, then dragged into place on top of the X shaped cross that would be my final place of torment. My wrists were bound with rope to the cross, and my feet where placed flat against the wood, pushing my knees up and out, exposing my tender flesh even more for all to see. The soldier in charged announced that any and all soldiers could rape me before I was nailed in place and my cross raised. I struggled weakly against the ropes as my heart rate increased and terror took me again at the prospect of being raped yet again at the hands of these men and women.

They took me again that morning, more men and women then I could count. During my shame, I caught her face again, her look of disgust and anger at my treatment. I kept my eyes on that face during my ordeal. Were those tears I saw her quickly wipe away? I could not tell through my own.

My assault finished, it was ordered that I be nailed in place. two soldiers were ordered to carry out the task starting with my wrists. I could only whimper in fear as I felt the cold iron placed onto my wrists. My fear turned to screeching screams as the nails were driven in on each side. My back arched and I screamed so much that my voice gave out and I twisted as much as I was able to in both directions desperate to free myself from the pain I was in.

the two soldiers then went to my feet, and grabbed them from flailing around. They shoved them back into place, my feet bottoms flat agaist the wood as they placed the sharp tips to the tops of each of my feet. When they hammered them both in place, it was almost enough to make me pass out from the pain and agony. They had barely finished and moved out of the way when I urinated in front of everyone present. I could only gasp and throw my head from side to side still trying to twist free of my bounds that now had me firmly in place, my sweat soaked breasts heaving and shuddering. I was not sure how much time passed, but I looked to each of my wrists to see them covered in blood. I looked into the shocked looks of the crowd as men and women both wept for me, but could do nothing to help.

The soldier who carried me was still there, and this time the tears in her eyes were unmistakable to me, as she covered her mouth in horror, her hand trembling.

the soldier in charge ordered my cross raised and locked into place. I felt a wave of dizziness as it was lifted up and once it was fully in place, I threw up once more, though at this point, it was little more than saliva and dry heaves as I had not been given any water during the night.


all that day, I suffered on my cross. Soon, it was hot and my body covered in sweat, making my long hair stick to my body and my blood from my wrists and feet slid down my arms and toes to drip onto the dust below me. Soldiers mocked me and offered me water. One female soldier put her bottle close to my lips offering me a drink, only to pull it away and dump it out in front of me onto the ground between my legs. She then slapped me in the face and laughed at me. I did not think I was capable of crying anymore than I had already. I asked her in a weak voice why? to which she just slapped me again and spit on my breasts.


the day wore on and I passed in and out of consciousness several times. Eventually the crowds were ordered to leave and it was stated that what was happened to their beloved priestess would happen to anyone who tried to resist their rule in our lands.


Even the soldier who carried me was no longer present. My suffering continued all day, and into the night, I could barely see and speak by the time the sun set. the guards posted kept changing shifts in that time and I could felt that my suffering would never end.

late that night, the shift changed again. This time it was a woman, though I could not make out her face in the darkness. After the other soldiers left and she was sure the two of us where alone, she turned to me, and she pulled a small bottle of water. gently lifting my head she placed it to my lips and helped me drink. I sputtered and coughed, but I nodded at her as thanks as I knew then it was her who carried me to this place, and yet hated herself for it, and those who were doing this to me. Looking around once more she leaned in close to my face and told me that she was sorry for everything that was happening to me. She told me how she wishes she could take me down from this cross, and escape, but it was not possible. She told me that while I would not survive, she could do something to stop my suffering here and now. She revealed a dagger in her hand, and I knew what she meant. I did not want to suffer anymore, and she did not want me to either. The only thing I could do was nod my head at her suggestion. I had just enough strength to tell her I was sorry she had to do this. I asked her to kiss me before released me from this world.

With tears in her eyes, she agreed. Her kiss was gentle, not like the others who raped me and abused me over the last day and night before. I closed my eyes and leaned forward into her kiss, as her tongue found mine. Then I felt the blade pierce my breast and I shuddered at the impact. She broke off her kiss to me and I felt myself slipping away. I managed to smile at her, and started to say thank you, but could only manage "than" before my breath left me and I sagged slowly, my chin touching my chest as I died there.


I could not know, but she removed her blade and kissed me once more on my forehead this time, and disapeared into the night.

(or at least that is how I imagine it happening as I write this)
 
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I am the youngest priestess in service to the goddess of the earth, blessed by her with beauty and kindness. The people loved me and I loved them and serving the goddess on their behalf. All that changed when war was declared against our country, and we were easily occupied by the invading force.

We were a peaceful people, who long valued our neutrality in the rest of the worlds affairs, a smaller country that valued worship of the goddess above all else, so we had no army of our own or any ability to resist those who conquered us.

Several weeks after the successful invasion the leaders gathered and declared that there needed to be extra assurances that the people would not rise up to lead a revolt in the future. They needed an action that would strike more fear, sadness, and despair in the people who lived here.

During that meeting it was said that the people loved me dearly because I was so kind, and how I gave of myself to the needs of the people in whatever way I could. It was decided that I would be the perfect tool against them, and It was ordered that I be crucified on an X shaped cross until death publically so that all would know that there was no hope for them.

I was violently awakened from my peaceful sleep bound with my wrists behind my back and I was forcefully taken from my temple room that night and led before their council where they sentenced me to death. I begged and pleaded to be spared, but this only made the council laugh at my despair and fear. The men and women of the council abused me that night for hours. I was spit on, pinned down, and raped by all the men and women present. the pain and terror I felt was more than I ever have before, but I also pitied them. I begged and pleaded with them to stop in between screams of pain that eventually became little more than quiet sobs from a voice to hoarse to cry out any longer. after they had all finished with me, I lay there curled into a tiny ball in hopes they would forget about me. I must have lost conciousness because I was pulled to my feet by my long hair by a large man who was ordered to throw me into prison for the rest of the night until my death in the morning.

I was marched to the cell by said gaurd and violently thown into my cell where he and another woman locked my wrists together to the wall above my head, locking me in place. That night I would recieve no rest, as both the male and female guards took turns raping me until morning, when they threw several buckets of cold water onto me to both wake and clean me.

The same male gaurd from that night unbound my wrists and I dropped to the floor sobbing, rubbing my wrists to relieve the pain from the rusty chains that dug into my skin all night and drew blood. he kicked me in my belly and I folded up into a fetal position and vomited onto the floor around me. Then, once again yanking me up by hair like he had the night before, he bound my wrists behind me and marched me back to the council chamber where it was announced that my sentence be carried out immediately. I could say nothing at all, bound there naked, bruised, and terrified as I was, so all I did was stare at the floor.

When they have finished speaking, they marched me naked through the streets, with my wrists still bound behind me. With tears in my eyes, I looked at the crowd that had gathered and I saw those I loved, and those who loved me, men and women both that I had spent time with, being a tutor to their children, and helping their elderly. I saw the horror and the sadness in their eyes, and my heart broke for them.

Several times I was kicked from behind and I fell to the hard stones. I was exausted from a night of being beaten and raped. Eventually, a large woman who was a soldier in the occupying force was ordered to carry me to the place where I would be executed. I flinched when she touched me, but instead of being rough with me, she carried me similar to the way a husband would carry his new bride. with heavy eyes bloodshot from crying and lack of sleep I looked up at her face as she cradled me, and I saw sadness there as she looked to me and then hurridly looked away as she carried me to my death.

upon reaching the place where I would be put to the cross, she gently laid me down and quickly backed away from me. I still saw the look of sadness in her face from before, but she quickly masked it so nobody else would see. But I did, and I knew then that this woman I did not know, and would never know, felt sadness and pity for me, which made me feel it for her in turn.


I was turned over and my wrists unbound, then dragged into place on top of the X shapped cross that would be my final place of torment. My wrists were bound with rope to the cross, and my feet where placed flat against the wood, pushing my knees up and out, exposing my tender flesh even more for all to see. The soldier in charged announced that any and all soldiers could rape me before I was nailed in place and my cross raised. I struggled weakly against the ropes as my heart rate increased and terror took me again at the prospect of being raped yet again at the hands of these men and women.

They took me again that morning, more men and women then I could count. During my shame, I caught her face again, her look of disgust and anger at my treatment. I kept my eyes on that face during my ordeal. Were those tears I saw her quickly wipe away? I could not tell through my own.

My assault finished, it was ordered that I be nailed in place. two soldiers were ordered to carry out the task starting with my wrists. I could only wimper in fear as I felt the cold iron placed onto my wrists. My fear turned to screeching screams as the nails were driven in on each side. My back arched and I screamed so much that my voice gave out and I twisted as much as I was able to in both directions desperate to free myself from the pain I was in.

the two soldiers then went to my feet, and grabbed them from flailing around. They shoved them back into place, my feet bottoms flat agaist the wood as they placed the sharp tips to the tops of each of my feet. When they hammered them both in place, it was almost enough to make me pass out from the pain and agony. They had barely finished and moved out of the way when I urinated in front of everyone present. I could only gasp and throw my head from side to side still trying to twist free of my bounds that now had me firmly in place, my sweat soaked breasts heaving and shuddering. I was not sure how much time passed, but I looked to each of my wrists to see them covered in blood. I looked into the shocked looks of the crowd as men and women both weeped for me, but could do nothing to help.

The soldier who carried me was still there, and this time the tears in her eyes were unmistakable to me, as she covered her mouth in horror, her hand trembling.

the soldier in charge ordered my cross raised and locked into place. I felt a wave of dizzyness as it was lifted up and once it was fully in place, I threw up once more, though at this point, it was little more than saliva and dry heaves as I had not been given any water during the night.


all that day, I suffered on my cross. Soon, it was hot and my body covered in sweat, making my long hair stick to my body and my blood from my wrists and feet slid down my arms and toes to drip onto the dust below me. Soldier mocked me and offered me water. One female soldier put her bottle close to my lips offering me a drink, only to pull it away and dump it out in front of me onto the ground between my legs. She then slapped me in the face and laughed at me. I did not think I was capable of crying anymore than I had already. I asked her in a weak voice why? to which she just slapped me again and spit on my breasts.


the day wore on and I passed in and out of conciousness several times. Eventually the crowds were ordered to leave and it was stated that what was happened to their beloved priestess would happen to anyone who tried to resist their rule in our lands.


Even the soldier who carried me was no longer present. My suffering continued all day, and into the night, I could barely see and speak by the time the sun set. the gaurds posted kept changing shifts in that time and I could felt that my suffering would never end.

late that night, the shift changed again. This time it was a woman, though I could not make out her face in the darkness. After the other soldiers left and she was sure the two of us where alone, she turned to me, and she pulled a small bottle of water. gently lifting my head she placed it to my lips and helped me drink. I sputtered and coughed, but I nodded at her as thanks as I knew then it was her who carried me to this place, and yet hated herself for it, and those who were doing this to me. Looking around once more she leaned in close to my face and told me that she was sorry for everything that was happening to me. She told me how she wishes she could take me down from this cross, and escape, but it was not possible. She told me that while I would not survive, she could do something to stop my suffering here and now. She revealed a dagger in her hand, and I knew what she meant. I did not want to suffer anymore, and she did not want me to either. The only thing I could do was nod my head at her suggestion. I had just enough strength to tell her I was sorry she had to do this. I asked her to kiss me before released me from this world.

With tears in her eyes, she agreed. Her kiss was gentle, not like the others who raped me and abused me over the last day and night before. I closed my eyes and leaned forward into her kiss, as her tongue found mine. Then I felt the blade pierce my breast and I shuddered at the impact. She broke off her kiss to me and I felt myself slipping away. I managed to smile at her, and started to say thank you, but could only manage "than" before my breath left me and I sagged slowly, my chin touching my chest as I died there.


I could not know, but she removed her blade and kissed me once more on my forehead this time, and disapeared into the night.

(or at least that is how I imagine it happening as I write this)
Nice story, very sensitive and well written. You are amazing writer.
 
Yeas, I like story very much, it come"s from the heart an this is very important. Respect.

D'aaaaaaaw, thank you! I'm afraid that grammatical mistakes aside, and perhaps punctuation here and there, I will not be able to do this good again for quite some time! Kinda wore myself out on it, lol! prob being too hard on myself, but that's how I feel. Hopefully this one wont disapear into the ether, and someday it will be worthy of being added to the crux forums archive.
 
D'aaaaaaaw, thank you! I'm afraid that grammatical mistakes aside, and perhaps punctuation here and there, I will not be able to do this good again for quite some time! Kinda wore myself out on it, lol! prob being too hard on myself, but that's how I feel. Hopefully this one wont disapear into the ether, and someday it will be worthy of being added to the crux forums archive.
Everything is all right. Do what you enjoy and what comes from the heart. Only things like these are real. Yeas, it would be nice to see this story in archive, and better with illustrstions.
 
I am the youngest priestess in service to the goddess of the earth, blessed by her with beauty and kindness. The people loved me and I loved them and serving the goddess on their behalf. All that changed when war was declared against our country, and we were easily occupied by the invading force.

We were a peaceful people, who long valued our neutrality in the rest of the worlds affairs, a smaller country that valued worship of the goddess above all else, so we had no army of our own or any ability to resist those who conquered us.

Several weeks after the successful invasion the leaders gathered and declared that there needed to be extra assurances that the people would not rise up to lead a revolt in the future. They needed an action that would strike more fear, sadness, and despair in the people who lived here.

During that meeting it was said that the people loved me dearly because I was so kind, and how I gave of myself to the needs of the people in whatever way I could. It was decided that I would be the perfect tool against them, and It was ordered that I be crucified on an X shaped cross until death publicly so that all would know that there was no hope for them.

I was violently awakened from my peaceful sleep bound with my wrists behind my back and I was forcefully taken from my temple room that night and led before their council where they sentenced me to death. I begged and pleaded to be spared, but this only made the council laugh at my despair and fear. The men and women of the council abused me that night for hours. I was spit on, pinned down, and raped by all the men and women present. the pain and terror I felt was more than I ever have before, but I also pitied them. I begged and pleaded with them to stop in between screams of pain that eventually became little more than quiet sobs from a voice to hoarse to cry out any longer. after they had all finished with me, I lay there curled into a tiny ball in hopes they would forget about me. I must have lost consciousness because I was pulled to my feet by my long hair by a large man who was ordered to throw me into prison for the rest of the night until my death in the morning.

I was marched to the cell by said guard and violently thrown into my cell where he and another woman locked my wrists together to the wall above my head, locking me in place. That night I would receive no rest, as both the male and female guards took turns raping me until morning, when they threw several buckets of cold water onto me to both wake and clean me.

The same male guard from that night unbound my wrists and I dropped to the floor sobbing, rubbing my wrists to relieve the pain from the rusty chains that dug into my skin all night and drew blood. he kicked me in my belly and I folded up into a fetal position and vomited onto the floor around me. Then, once again yanking me up by hair like he had the night before, he bound my wrists behind me and marched me back to the council chamber where it was announced that my sentence be carried out immediately. I could say nothing at all, bound there naked, bruised, and terrified as I was, so all I did was stare at the floor.

When they have finished speaking, they marched me naked through the streets, with my wrists still bound behind me. With tears in my eyes, I looked at the crowd that had gathered and I saw those I loved, and those who loved me, men and women both that I had spent time with, being a tutor to their children, and helping their elderly. I saw the horror and the sadness in their eyes, and my heart broke for them.

Several times I was kicked from behind and I fell to the hard stones. I was exhausted from a night of being beaten and raped. Eventually, a large woman who was a soldier in the occupying force was ordered to carry me to the place where I would be executed. I flinched when she touched me, but instead of being rough with me, she carried me similar to the way a husband would carry his new bride. with heavy eyes bloodshot from crying and lack of sleep I looked up at her face as she cradled me, and I saw sadness there as she looked to me and then hurriedly looked away as she carried me to my death.

upon reaching the place where I would be put to the cross, she gently laid me down and quickly backed away from me. I still saw the look of sadness in her face from before, but she quickly masked it so nobody else would see. But I did, and I knew then that this woman I did not know, and would never know, felt sadness and pity for me, which made me feel it for her in turn.


I was turned over and my wrists unbound, then dragged into place on top of the X shaped cross that would be my final place of torment. My wrists were bound with rope to the cross, and my feet where placed flat against the wood, pushing my knees up and out, exposing my tender flesh even more for all to see. The soldier in charged announced that any and all soldiers could rape me before I was nailed in place and my cross raised. I struggled weakly against the ropes as my heart rate increased and terror took me again at the prospect of being raped yet again at the hands of these men and women.

They took me again that morning, more men and women then I could count. During my shame, I caught her face again, her look of disgust and anger at my treatment. I kept my eyes on that face during my ordeal. Were those tears I saw her quickly wipe away? I could not tell through my own.

My assault finished, it was ordered that I be nailed in place. two soldiers were ordered to carry out the task starting with my wrists. I could only whimper in fear as I felt the cold iron placed onto my wrists. My fear turned to screeching screams as the nails were driven in on each side. My back arched and I screamed so much that my voice gave out and I twisted as much as I was able to in both directions desperate to free myself from the pain I was in.

the two soldiers then went to my feet, and grabbed them from flailing around. They shoved them back into place, my feet bottoms flat agaist the wood as they placed the sharp tips to the tops of each of my feet. When they hammered them both in place, it was almost enough to make me pass out from the pain and agony. They had barely finished and moved out of the way when I urinated in front of everyone present. I could only gasp and throw my head from side to side still trying to twist free of my bounds that now had me firmly in place, my sweat soaked breasts heaving and shuddering. I was not sure how much time passed, but I looked to each of my wrists to see them covered in blood. I looked into the shocked looks of the crowd as men and women both wept for me, but could do nothing to help.

The soldier who carried me was still there, and this time the tears in her eyes were unmistakable to me, as she covered her mouth in horror, her hand trembling.

the soldier in charge ordered my cross raised and locked into place. I felt a wave of dizziness as it was lifted up and once it was fully in place, I threw up once more, though at this point, it was little more than saliva and dry heaves as I had not been given any water during the night.


all that day, I suffered on my cross. Soon, it was hot and my body covered in sweat, making my long hair stick to my body and my blood from my wrists and feet slid down my arms and toes to drip onto the dust below me. Soldiers mocked me and offered me water. One female soldier put her bottle close to my lips offering me a drink, only to pull it away and dump it out in front of me onto the ground between my legs. She then slapped me in the face and laughed at me. I did not think I was capable of crying anymore than I had already. I asked her in a weak voice why? to which she just slapped me again and spit on my breasts.


the day wore on and I passed in and out of consciousness several times. Eventually the crowds were ordered to leave and it was stated that what was happened to their beloved priestess would happen to anyone who tried to resist their rule in our lands.


Even the soldier who carried me was no longer present. My suffering continued all day, and into the night, I could barely see and speak by the time the sun set. the guards posted kept changing shifts in that time and I could felt that my suffering would never end.

late that night, the shift changed again. This time it was a woman, though I could not make out her face in the darkness. After the other soldiers left and she was sure the two of us where alone, she turned to me, and she pulled a small bottle of water. gently lifting my head she placed it to my lips and helped me drink. I sputtered and coughed, but I nodded at her as thanks as I knew then it was her who carried me to this place, and yet hated herself for it, and those who were doing this to me. Looking around once more she leaned in close to my face and told me that she was sorry for everything that was happening to me. She told me how she wishes she could take me down from this cross, and escape, but it was not possible. She told me that while I would not survive, she could do something to stop my suffering here and now. She revealed a dagger in her hand, and I knew what she meant. I did not want to suffer anymore, and she did not want me to either. The only thing I could do was nod my head at her suggestion. I had just enough strength to tell her I was sorry she had to do this. I asked her to kiss me before released me from this world.

With tears in her eyes, she agreed. Her kiss was gentle, not like the others who raped me and abused me over the last day and night before. I closed my eyes and leaned forward into her kiss, as her tongue found mine. Then I felt the blade pierce my breast and I shuddered at the impact. She broke off her kiss to me and I felt myself slipping away. I managed to smile at her, and started to say thank you, but could only manage "than" before my breath left me and I sagged slowly, my chin touching my chest as I died there.


I could not know, but she removed her blade and kissed me once more on my forehead this time, and disapeared into the night.

(or at least that is how I imagine it happening as I write this)
Very nice, Piper! :)
 
I just wanted to add that if anyone wants to add to this story, feel free to do so! I'm curious to know what becomes of the female warrior who showed kidness to me before I died. I hope she can avoid trouble over this, possibly even escape to a new life, while also never forgetting the poor priestess whose misery she was compelled mercifully to end.

I will await her in the beyond, should things turn bad for her, but I hope she can live a full and good life and not one of being a soldier forced to see and do terrible things anymore since she clearly has no heart for it.
 
In the last paragraph of the article,I thought the girl would get the last(Maybe it's the first time?)lesbian sex of her life and die.
But then I understand, they have neither the time nor the interest to do it.

I played around with the idea myself, actually. perhaps the soldier gently placed her fingers in and out of the priestess vagina as well. I will leave that to your imagination. :)
 
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