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Some Sketches

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I suspect there would be a decent subset of men who would not complain to see a woman’s naked ass sticking out from a cross. Add in the sexual imagery of the woman basically straddling an upright pole, and there’s enough to enjoy ;)
Perhaps have her riding a cornu of some kind. (No crotch nail for this.) If she's up high enough, the visual of her fucking a thick cornu inserted into her vagina would be very dramatic. Her defenseless anus would be a prominent visual target between her butt cheeks (I guess, trying to visualize this). At least she wouldn't have to look down into the faces of the jeering spectators in front of her cross. Nail her breasts or not? I don't know--leave it up to the executioners. They're a very inventive lot.
 
Perhaps have her riding a cornu of some kind. (No crotch nail for this.) If she's up high enough, the visual of her fucking a thick cornu inserted into her vagina would be very dramatic. Her defenseless anus would be a prominent visual target between her butt cheeks (I guess, trying to visualize this). At least she wouldn't have to look down into the faces of the jeering spectators in front of her cross. Nail her breasts or not? I don't know--leave it up to the executioners. They're a very inventive lot.

I’ve mentioned this on other threads, but I remember hearing some very pious preachers (all male, of course) state that women were crucified facing the cross because 1) it was less shameful for them to not have to look upon the crowd; and/or 2) men couldn’t bear seeing women in so much pain.

#2 can be discarded, I think, just from browsing this forum and looking at the world in general. But what about the #1? I tend to think that being crucified facing away from the onlookers, with my ass hanging out toward them in a sex-like position on the cross would be more shameful (especially for a woman, expected to be chaste and pure), then facing the crowd would be. Facing the cross, she’s reduced to a faceless sex object.

It’s all a matter or preference and personal perspective.
 
I like the idea that “field crucifixions” would not use a cornu or involve overly complicated torture methods. Just get them up and move on. The legatus will put *us* up on crosses if we fall behind the marching schedule!
Yes. Just use whatever bits of rubble are available to construct crude crosses. Nail them, for sure (assuming enough nails can be found). Although, without a footrest, sedile or cornu, the crucified will probably die fairly quickly (within 10-12 hours, even sooner?), nailed or not. However, if just roped to their crosses, they might survive long enough to be taken down once the army has passed by. If nailed they will almost certainly die from horrible infections even if removed in time from their crosses. Assuming any survive the inevitable infections, they would be painfully crippled for the rest of their lives. Better they be quickly and mercifully put out of their torment while still crucified.
 
Such a pretty one, her body pressed to mine as I steer her away from the crowd. The cries of the women have aroused me, and this girl in my arms is soft and warm and so available, I need to get her out of site quickly. She wriggles in my grasp but we don't slow as I walk towards the side street.

"I don’t want to do anything with you, you fucking prick! Leave me alone!"

Ha! She says that, but I know it isn't true. Her excitement is real, her need as great as mine.
"No one’s going to help you" I tell her, covering her mouth. I feel her breath on my palm, her moist lips. I want to get my hand on her other lips.

She shouts at me, "I want to stay here! This is where I want to be!". It is, I know, within hearing of the crucified sluts, here in my arms, you want this and there is no denying. Her struggles only enourage me now, I know she wants this, why else did she come back, why else expose herself in public?

Here we are now, in the side street, I push you against the wall. Now for a feel of those young tits, properly this time, just my hands on your bare flesh, caressing your nipple, as you sighs in pleasure. You moves against my hand, clearly aroused and I am encouraged to lean in and taste your lips. You turn away pushing me, teasing, and I move to feel between your thighs, I know you is wet, I will feel that soft warmth before turning you around to the wall and giving you what she wants. I'm glad that bastard Rufus isn't here, I'll take you from behind and then get you to lick me clean. I bet you'll be up to it.

Oh gods, then what may happen? I know a quiet warehouse near here. I could take you there, give you the desire of your heart, tie you to a beam and fuck you silly. Crucify this little bitch, I bet you'd be a screamer, get you wound up good and then take you again.

I'm glad I found you again today!

What? Something gleaming in your hand?
Shit! You've stuck me like a pig! Gods I'm bleeding so much. I don't feel too good. . . . . . .
"murder . . . . .MURDER!! h e l p . . . . ."

.

.

He leans against her now, helplessly, his weight holding her against the wall as she stares at the blood. He collapses, slowly, but his last shout was heard. Someone emerges from a doorway, sees the bloody knife, shouts a warning. Heads turn, some run towards the sound, she finds herself trapped in the street, strangers blocking her escape, eyes wide and shocked by the sight of this young woman with her bloody knife. She stands frozen, helpless, unsure what to do.

"He attacked me" she said to no one in particular.
"But madam, you are the one holding a knife. Please put it down, now."

Marcella realised that she was in a lot of trouble.


(Time to finish this!)

Marcella is arrested and marched off to the magistrate’s office. Despite trying to defend herself, she is held over for trial the next day and imprisoned. Most unfortunately for her, the man she killed was Quintus Scrotius, the son of Lucius Scrotius, a powerful and wealthy politician in the city. The son, though a ne’er-do-well, basked in his father’s popularity with the people. Lucius Scrotius is damned if he’s going to let some common bitch get away with killing his only son and heir. Sure, the lad has serious shortcomings as a man, and probably did assault the girl, but family honor is at stake. The little cunt will have to pay!

Early the next day, after spending a terrifying night in prison, Marcella is brought to public trial, attended by many citizens. A ten-man jury of upright citizens sat in judgement on her. Various witnesses—all paid off by Lucius—attest to seeing Marcella expose her ample breasts shamefully at crucified men and behaving publicly in a wanton manner. Marcella shamefully admits to exposing her breasts, but denies any other indiscreet behavior. The paid-off witnesses further testify that it was the appealing Marcella who beguiled young Quintus into entering the alley, no doubt with the intent to rob and kill him since she was, in fact, concealing a knife under her dress. Marcella desperately tries to defend herself. Yes, she admits, she had a concealed weapon, but as places where executions are carried out are inherently dangerous for women, she felt compelled to have the means to defend herself. She only used the knife when she believed her life was in danger from Quintus’s malicious assault on her in the alley, to where he had dragged her. When the spectators at the trial shout out that she is a liar, and that Quintus was a decent and upright man, Marcella, in desperation, pulls down the top of her tunic to reveal her bruised and scratched breasts as evidence of Quintus’s assault on her. She blushes crimson as she begs them and the judge to consider this physical evidence. The crowd only howls and cheers at the sight her ample breasts. She did not influence the crowd, the judge, or the jury one bit. Predictably, the jury finds her guilty of the murder of Quintus Scrotius.

Marcella faints upon hearing the sentence from the judge: “Ad crucem!”

There is no appeal. Within an hour Marcella is lying naked on the ground, looking up at the sky as she is nailed to a crossbeam. Writhing in agony she is utterly helpless to the worst assaults on her body. Her legs are spread apart, and her virginity is taken as she is repeatedly raped. She faints as her body is elevated onto the upright part of the cross set into the ground. She revives, screaming, as her feet are nailed.

PLSIECAN01_IRA4225_parter_2700_001b.jpg Marcella is crucified for the killing the man who assaulted her in the alley. The crowd watching her beautiful young body twist and strain in awful agony curses and jeers at her.

As she endures the unendurable, Marcella is stunned that she could ever have fantasized about being crucified, or about how erotic a woman’s body could look stretched out and nailed to a cross. She’s suffering horrific agony and humiliation that will last for hours, even a day or more, until she dies. Her reckless fantasizing has brought her to this dreadful end. She howls in despair as well as pain over the pointless end of her young life.

IMG_20191124_202321.jpg After several hours, Marcella sees her parents and sister standing by her cross, looking up at her. Her father looks grim as he stares up at his crucified daughter. His eyes turn away, unable to look upon her nakedness. Her mother, likewise, is horrified and speechless at what has happened to her younger daughter. Only her sister, Thessela tries to speak to her, but Marcella is unable to answer.

As the hours of her crucifixion grind by, Marcella notices that her family is no longer present. They have left her to die among strangers. As the day comes to a close and dusk approaches, the crowd has thinned out.

1574275784034.jpeg.jpgIt is then that Marcella notices a slender young woman standing in front of her cross. She looks up at Marcella hanging in torment. The young woman’s eyes are fixed on her, as though she cannot look away. She has her hands over her chest and appears to be caressing her own breasts. What is she doing, Marcella wonders? She can see the girl’s nipples poking into the fabric of her tunic top. They are clearly tumescent. The girl appears to be in a state of arousal.

Marcella suddenly understands. The young woman is finding the sight of her hanging on her cross as sexually exciting as Marcella herself did find a crucified woman at one time. But this is so dangerous! Look what it has done to her life. Ruined it! It condemned her to die on a cross. No! No! The young woman must not let herself be enslaved by this fantasy. It is too dangerous! Too reckless!

Marcella feels compelled to warn this girl about such fantasizes. She tries to speak but can barely croak out a warning. Regardless, the young woman is not listening. She seems close to an orgasm as she now has one hand inside her tunic top as she squeezes and caresses her breast. Her other hand has pulled up the hem of her tunic and she appears to be fingering her pussy under the fabric. Suddenly her whole body shudders as she reaches an orgasm. She drops to a knee, her body bent forward, one hand on the ground, as she composes herself. Then she straightens herself up, neatly arranges her clothes, turns and walks away from Marcella’s cross. She gives Marcella one last look over her shoulder as the gloom of the early evening envelopes her.

Soon it is dark. Marcella hangs in tortuous agony throughout the night. As dawn approaches, she knows death is near. Her last thoughts are of the young woman. Marcella desperately hopes the girl’s fantasy life doesn’t lead to her to the disgraceful end that it has for her.

Still, Marcella knows, she knows. The young woman, whoever she is, will likely find out that some fantasies are not always safe to indulge.
 
(Time to finish this!)

Marcella is arrested and marched off to the magistrate’s office. Despite trying to defend herself, she is held over for trial the next day and imprisoned. Most unfortunately for her, the man she killed was Quintus Scrotius, the son of Lucius Scrotius, a powerful and wealthy politician in the city. The son, though a ne’er-do-well, basked in his father’s popularity with the people. Lucius Scrotius is damned if he’s going to let some common bitch get away with killing his only son and heir. Sure, the lad has serious shortcomings as a man, and probably did assault the girl, but family honor is at stake. The little cunt will have to pay!

Early the next day, after spending a terrifying night in prison, Marcella is brought to public trial, attended by many citizens. A ten-man jury of upright citizens sat in judgement on her. Various witnesses—all paid off by Lucius—attest to seeing Marcella expose her ample breasts shamefully at crucified men and behaving publicly in a wanton manner. Marcella shamefully admits to exposing her breasts, but denies any other indiscreet behavior. The paid-off witnesses further testify that it was the appealing Marcella who beguiled young Quintus into entering the alley, no doubt with the intent to rob and kill him since she was, in fact, concealing a knife under her dress. Marcella desperately tries to defend herself. Yes, she admits, she had a concealed weapon, but as places where executions are carried out are inherently dangerous for women, she felt compelled to have the means to defend herself. She only used the knife when she believed her life was in danger from Quintus’s malicious assault on her in the alley, to where he had dragged her. When the spectators at the trial shout out that she is a liar, and that Quintus was a decent and upright man, Marcella, in desperation, pulls down the top of her tunic to reveal her bruised and scratched breasts as evidence of Quintus’s assault on her. She blushes crimson as she begs them and the judge to consider this physical evidence. The crowd only howls and cheers at the sight her ample breasts. She did not influence the crowd, the judge, or the jury one bit. Predictably, the jury finds her guilty of the murder of Quintus Scrotius.

Marcella faints upon hearing the sentence from the judge: “Ad crucem!”

There is no appeal. Within an hour Marcella is lying naked on the ground, looking up at the sky as she is nailed to a crossbeam. Writhing in agony she is utterly helpless to the worst assaults on her body. Her legs are spread apart, and her virginity is taken as she is repeatedly raped. She faints as her body is elevated onto the upright part of the cross set into the ground. She revives, screaming, as her feet are nailed.

View attachment 802648 Marcella is crucified for the killing the man who assaulted her in the alley. The crowd watching her beautiful young body twist and strain in awful agony curses and jeers at her.

As she endures the unendurable, Marcella is stunned that she could ever have fantasized about being crucified, or about how erotic a woman’s body could look stretched out and nailed to a cross. She’s suffering horrific agony and humiliation that will last for hours, even a day or more, until she dies. Her reckless fantasizing has brought her to this dreadful end. She howls in despair as well as pain over the pointless end of her young life.

View attachment 802649 After several hours, Marcella sees her parents and sister standing by her cross, looking up at her. Her father looks grim as he stares up at his crucified daughter. His eyes turn away, unable to look upon her nakedness. Her mother, likewise, is horrified and speechless at what has happened to her younger daughter. Only her sister, Thessela tries to speak to her, but Marcella is unable to answer.

As the hours of her crucifixion grind by, Marcella notices that her family is no longer present. They have left her to die among strangers. As the day comes to a close and dusk approaches, the crowd has thinned out.

View attachment 802650It is then that Marcella notices a slender young woman standing in front of her cross. She looks up at Marcella hanging in torment. The young woman’s eyes are fixed on her, as though she cannot look away. She has her hands over her chest and appears to be caressing her own breasts. What is she doing, Marcella wonders? She can see the girl’s nipples poking into the fabric of her tunic top. They are clearly tumescent. The girl appears to be in a state of arousal.

Marcella suddenly understands. The young woman is finding the sight of her hanging on her cross as sexually exciting as Marcella herself did find a crucified woman at one time. But this is so dangerous! Look what it has done to her life. Ruined it! It condemned her to die on a cross. No! No! The young woman must not let herself be enslaved by this fantasy. It is too dangerous! Too reckless!

Marcella feels compelled to warn this girl about such fantasizes. She tries to speak but can barely croak out a warning. Regardless, the young woman is not listening. She seems close to an orgasm as she now has one hand inside her tunic top as she squeezes and caresses her breast. Her other hand has pulled up the hem of her tunic and she appears to be fingering her pussy under the fabric. Suddenly her whole body shudders as she reaches an orgasm. She drops to a knee, her body bent forward, one hand on the ground, as she composes herself. Then she straightens herself up, neatly arranges her clothes, turns and walks away from Marcella’s cross. She gives Marcella one last look over her shoulder as the gloom of the early evening envelopes her.

Soon it is dark. Marcella hangs in tortuous agony throughout the night. As dawn approaches, she knows death is near. Her last thoughts are of the young woman. Marcella desperately hopes the girl’s fantasy life doesn’t lead to her to the disgraceful end that it has for her.

Still, Marcella knows, she knows. The young woman, whoever she is, will likely find out that some fantasies are not always safe to indulge.
very sexy writing, Marcella!
 
I’ve mentioned this on other threads, but I remember hearing some very pious preachers (all male, of course) state that women were crucified facing the cross because 1) it was less shameful for them to not have to look upon the crowd; and/or 2) men couldn’t bear seeing women in so much pain.

like position on the cross would be more shameful (especially for a woman, expected to be chaste and pure), then facing the crowd would be. Facing the cross, she’s reduced to a faceless sex object.

It’s all a matter or preference and personal perspective.
I believe that the women were crucified facing the cross by Jews only (as the description of such a method is contained in Mishna), so they were not naked, while the Romans crucified them naked but facing the onlookers.
 
I believe that the women were crucified facing the cross by Jews only (as the description of such a method is contained in Mishna), so they were not naked, while the Romans crucified them naked but facing the onlookers.
The theory suggests the Romans were conducting this variation of crucifixion as a concession to Jewish religious law (later embodied in the Mishna.) Consequently we assume this variation occurred primarily in Roman occupied Judaea prior to the revolt of AD 70. There wasn't much respect shown for Jewish sensibilities thereafter.

Crucifixion was not a Jewish penalty, and the code simply refers to hanging women facing the stake. Therefore the assumption is that the Romans were accommodating this rule, to some extent, in their own method of execution in the occupied territory. There is a degree of speculation here, and it may not have been a universal practice within Judaea. :confused:
 
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I like the idea that “field crucifixions” would not use a cornu or involve overly complicated torture methods. Just get them up and move on. The legatus will put *us* up on crosses if we fall behind the marching schedule!
We have no time to wait till they're dead, and more rebels could be hidden somewhere, so they must die quickly. I suppose the last pair of the marching soldiers was ordered to pierce lower belly of every crucified man and woman with their javelin to make sure they could not be rescued even if released ten minutes after our departure...
 
The picturesque Apulian landscape... Sunshine over the meadow in the morning... Sweet scent of the fresh breeze and flowering bushes... Chirps of birds and dance of the mating butterflies... And the sorrowful weeping of a tortured innocent maiden...
 

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The theory suggests the Romans were conducting this variation of crucifixion as a concession to Jewish religious law (later embodied in the Mishna.) Consequently we assume this variation occurred primarily in Roman occupied Judaea prior to the revolt of AD 70. There wasn't much respect shown for Jewish sensibilities thereafter.

Crucifixion was not a Jewish penalty, and the code simply refers to hanging women facing the stake. Therefore the assumption is that the Romans were accommodating this rule, to some extent, in their own method of execution in the occupied territory. There is a degree of speculation here, and it may not have been a universal practice within Judaea. :confused:
I am not sure, some earlier Jewish sources mentioned executions which could be interpreted as a crucifixion before the Roman occupation, so maybe the idea of Roman-type crucifixion was simply "imported" and suited to the local customs by the ancient rulers of Iudaea, independent and mighty kings themselves. And do remember that before the Jewish revolt the Roman governors and procurators tried to respect Jewish customs. Both Jesus nor his two companions were left on the crosses to decompose. The Romans simply wanted to not make Jewish subjects angry because this nation was very numerous and the Jerusalem was one of the biggest cities of the Empire. They were right: the 70AD revolt when broke out, it took few years and enormous expenses to be suppressed.
 
(Time to finish this!)



View attachment 802650It is then that Marcella notices a slender young woman standing in front of her cross. She looks up at Marcella hanging in torment. The young woman’s eyes are fixed on her, as though she cannot look away. She has her hands over her chest and appears to be caressing her own breasts. What is she doing, Marcella wonders? She can see the girl’s nipples poking into the fabric of her tunic top. They are clearly tumescent. The girl appears to be in a state of arousal.

Really nice writing. I enjoy the relationships between the crucified Marcella and the spectators. It's great.
 
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