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She was tied down tight to the cross, so her instinct to thrash wildly at the assault of pain could only be seen in the tenseness of her panicked muscles and the way her limbs strained at the ropes. He struck again, and she shrieked, apparently shocked anew at the pain, despite having just felt the first blow a moment before. Again, and again he pounded, driving the nail through her wrist, watching it shoot deeper and deeper with each blow, always perfectly unmoving, darting to each new position without ever traveling between. Soon the girl's cries were constant, never coming to rest after a hammer blow. "Pleeeeeaaaase...!" she cried, arching her head back, then clenching her eyes and tossing her head from side to side. Galbus didn't stop. Then he was pounding the second nail through her other wrist. This was the punishment for murder.
The condemned didn't usually cry this way. Usually they were men, and they roared, and they glared back at him with a deep hatred. He liked hurting them when they looked at him that way. He could look right into their hateful eyes and pound the agony into them, and then give their naked balls a pinch for fun. Not this girl. Her despairing, dolorous eyes were pleading with him, begging him for relief, and he couldn't look at her.
When her wrists were nailed, he moved without a break to her feet, quickly adjusting their position so that her legs were slightly bent, then setting the first spike and pounding it in.
"I'm sorry...! I'm sorry...!" she wailed, losing her breath in her sobs. Galbus had to pause briefly and look up at her - maybe to see whom she was talking to - he didn't know. Then he resumed and finished the job.
When it was over, he cut away the ropes as her weeping grew silent, if no less intense.
"Oh - I almost forgot your sedile," he said, picking up a rough block of wood barely larger than a man's two fists, on on top of the other.
"My -" she swallowed, then took a few deep breaths, "My father told me I should request to hang without a sedile."
Galbus smirked, maybe at her father, maybe at his own feelings of remorse. "Well..." he said, pausing, as if considering, "did he tell you to request not to be crucified?" She closed her eyes, then slowly opened them again, looking at him half sullen, half pleading. "Or for that matter," Galbus continued, "did he tell you not to throw stones!?" He was angry. The sarcasm hadn't helped. He strode briskly back to her and patted her closed knees. "Come on," he urged impatiently, "open up. You know where this goes." She gave him one last pleading look, then obeyed, splaying her knees out as much as she could, though the motion was obviously painful. He reached down to set the long face of the block against the cross, then shoved it up roughly so that it pressed hard into her private parts. This invasive action might have solicited a wince before, but now that she had nails through her limbs, she could not suppress a gasp and little cry. He nailed down the block with two nails. When he had finished, she pressed her knees together again to preserve whatever modesty they could afford her.
"Ok!" Galbus turned to the group of spectators, "I need someone to help me raise the cross." A hand shot up immediately, and a very young man stepped forward, grinning.
"Good," said Galbus, scrutinizing him. "You look... eager," he said.
"She's my cousin," the boy grinned.
"I see," Galbus disliked him.
The boy walked right up to the crucified girl and stood over her, gloating. She didn't look at him.
"Nice boobs, Leah," he sneered, reaching down to pinch her soft breast. She couldn't move. She was nailed down naked in front of him. He looked her up and down. Galbus thought of stopping him. Then, with a hideous noise, the boy summoned the phlegm from the back of his throat and let it slowly dangle from his lips over her red, exhausted face. She couldn't move. She turned her head back and forth with disgust as the glob slowly neared her face, but she couldn't avoid it when it finally landed just below her eye. Nor could she wipe it away. "You know," the boy continued, exulting, "you're actually lucky you got crucified. Otherwise you would have died a virgin!" He laughed. She cried.
"Alright, that's enough," Galbus bent, preparing to lift the left side of the cross, motioning with his head for the boy to take the right. They lifted, and as they lifted, the girl's breathing grew rapid and intense. Her weight was shifting to hang more and more on the cruel nails. Soon she was shrieking, and her arms were stretched, and her legs bent a little more than before. When she was almost upright, Galbus, straining, positioned the base of the cross over the hole.
"Ok - big drop..." he said, and the cross fell with a thud into the hole. The girl's body jolted downward at the bottom, and she screamed. Galbus felt sick. The boy, coming from behind her, patted her bleeding bum, smirking.
"Looking good, Leah!" he said.
It was done. Galbus gathered up the extra rope and the clothing the naked girl had taken off, then headed back to the barracks. The guards at the gate would watch and make sure nothing happened to the girl on the cross. He looked back as he left and saw the spectators throwing dust in her eyes.
Galbus worked the rest of the day in the barracks, then, when his mates went to the tavern, he told them he didn't feel well, and he returned to look again at the murderess he had crucified.
There was a bigger crowd now that the day's work was done. But as he approached, he was surprised to see thick, dark blood running down her thighs. Her period had started. Somehow it made Galbus feel worse. She had also lost the strength to keep her knees together, and had set herself down on the sedile. Many in the crowd mocked and jeered her. Her head hung, her dark hair sweaty, clinging in bedraggled locks in some places, in others spiraling wildly in the humid air. Here was a girl who had felt ugly and wanted to be beautiful. Now she could hide nothing from her neighbors. They saw every detail of her body - every flaw, every pimple on her chest, the two moles on her abdomen, and now her feminine bleeding.
Galbus fought his revulsion. He had done a good thing. What he had done was good and right and just. In putting this woman to death, he had served the senate and the people of Rome. The empire was safer, and the world was a better place now that this girl was hanging naked on the cross, and the crowd was mocking her suffering. She deserved it. She deserved a long, slow death. She deserved to die in public with her naked body on display. She deserved to hang on this cross in agony while her neighbors watched her menstruate. This was the punishment for murder.
(The end)
and i have nothing collected to now.
LOL!!
