Together

[messaline]

Barb has decided to take the option that the women early on in their shared crucifixions are very aware of each other's movements and quickly decide to coordinate them. A great idea! And, all things considered, probably as equally likely of happening as no cooperation. It is an excellent device in this story as it allows for the formation of a relationship between the two women who must share a cross together, who must suffer brutal agony and humiliation together, and who will ultimately die together.

You could be right, Marcella but I doubt that in these circumstances, the two women could well cooperate ! Each of them have their own needs ( breath , cramps ...) and it would be astonishing that they need to do in the same moment .
But, we can dream and it's sure that Barb had a great idea in imagining such a story !
I've only a regret, which is to be not nailed with her on the same cross .......

 

[thehangingtree]

You could be right, Marcella but I doubt that in these circumstances, the two women could well cooperate ! Each of them have their own needs ( breath , cramps ...) and it would be astonishing that they need to do in the same moment .
But, we can dream and it's sure that Barb had a great idea in imagining such a story !
I've only a regret, which is to be not nailed with her on the same cross .......

Take solace that while not nailed with her the cross they hang from was once premium French crucifixion wood... It has weathered a bit...

Tree

 

[Barbaria1]

You could be right, Marcella but I doubt that in these circumstances, the two women could well cooperate ! Each of them have their own needs ( breath , cramps ...) and it would be astonishing that they need to do in the same moment .
But, we can dream and it's sure that Barb had a great idea in imagining such a story !
I've only a regret, which is to be not nailed with her on the same cross .......

But perhaps Messa occupies a cross nearby. Surely the vanquished legion had some Gallic slaves?

 

[LittleSiss]

Introspection


I only need someone to hold me


Someone to say it's alright


Someone to tell me I'm not crazy


And make me realize


I'm not the fool that I think I am


I'm not the girl that I was


I'm not at all that I thought I would be


The morning light through the half cracked blinds


The dew on the grass


The sheets have made wrinkles


On my boobs and my ass


It's every morning


Ready for the day


Posture so true as can be


And on my way


Limitless abandonment


Or just a presentation


Of how I must be


TODAY ...




............................

Oh! Thanks Tree.

 

[Barbaria1]

Introspection


I only need someone to hold me


Someone to say it's alright


Someone to tell me I'm not crazy


And make me realize


I'm not the fool that I think I am


I'm not the girl that I was


I'm not at all that I thought I would be


The morning light though the half cracked blinds


The dew on the grass


The sheets have made wrinkles


On my boobs and my ass


It's every morning


Ready for the day


Posture so true as can be


And on my way


Limitless abandonment


Or just a presentation


Of how I must be


TODAY ...


View attachment 515543

............................

Whewwww . wow!!!!!!

 

[thehangingtree]

But perhaps Messa occupies a cross nearby. Surely the vanquished legion had some Gallic slaves?

I smoke some of the local roadside herbs then I come across these crucified... well, they are crucified people...

They all beg for me to release them except these two.



I should talk to the ...

Tree

 

[thehangingtree]

I smoke some of the local roadside herbs then I come across these crucified... well, they are crucified people...

They all beg for me to release them except these two.

View attachment 515548

I should talk to the ...

Tree

Tree appreciates the great stories and knows it is called the 'World-wide web' for a reason. I have found friends around the globe (my most trusted ones think I am an idiot). But I must sleep so sleep well or have a good morning!!!!!!

 

[Loxuru]

I smoke some of the local roadside herbs then I come across these crucified... well, they are crucified people...

They all beg for me to release them except these two.

Good manip, Tree! Particularly for adding 'the girl next cross'.

 

[Wragg]

I smoke some of the local roadside herbs then I come across these crucified... well, they are crucified people...

They all beg for me to release them except these two.

View attachment 515548

I should talk to the ...

Tree

That is worth more than a 'like', indeed, Loxurul

 

[Madiosi]

2.

"On your feet!" screams the Optio, veins bulging on his forehead. Several legionaries spring forward brandishing whips, in case there might be any resistance.

I rise to a standing position ... partly on my own, partly yanked to my feet by the coffle rope around my neck as the man next to me rises more quickly. Someone down the line grumbles a protest and is dealt with quickly and harshly.

I look away from the violence, directing my gaze down the road. Everything appears nearly ready for us. A detail of soldiers has just finished unearthing and lifting the heavy crosses and laying them down on the ground ready to receive their next victims. Another detail has just arrived on the scene ... our executioners ... a rather grim-looking bunch, abundantly equipped with bundles of rope, hammers and leather pouches bulging with nails.

I am approached by two of them, young and strapping, grinning broadly at the prospect of what they are about to do. I recognize the first, and turn my head in the hope that he might not recognize me.

"You again!" He snarls.

Apparently he hasn't forgotten who kneed him the night before, nor the humiliation he must have felt as he watched, doubled over and holding his groin, while his comrades-in-arms enjoyed having their way with me and the other women. As they took turns, yelling lustily and joking among themselves, they needled him mercilessly for allowing a mere slave girl like me to get away with such an obvious and debilitating trick.

"I'll handle this one!" He announces to his mate as he grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks me toward him. "You get the other bitch."

Holding me upright and in place by my hair, he uses his free hand to remove the coffle rope from my neck and strip me to the waist. He then proceeds to maul my bared breasts, pinching and mashing them, until his comrade returns with the other girl in tow. I grimace and hold my breath but resist the urge to react in any way.

"What say, Lucretius," roars his friend, his face mirthful. "You are going to make that one pay dearly for what she did to you last night, by the looks of it."

"Yes, as the Gods be my witness, Markus! This cunt will rue the day she tangled with me before this day is over!" he replies, pulling and twisting my nipple viciously between finger and thumb until I gasp and cry out in pain, despite my resolution to be stoic and not react to whatever he may do to me.

"See! She likes it!" shouts Lucretius, looking around for his audience, but finding only the Optio standing nearby. His face falls, and he releases his grip on my nipple.

"Stop messing around!" snarls the Optio. "You know your assignment. The next time I look, I want to see those two dancing together on a cross."

"Right, move you two!" growls Markus, taking charge and giving me and the other girl a shove out onto the road. "Come on Lucretius. Let's go find a nice sturdy cross to crucify the two of them together on, shall we? A challenge, wouldn't you say? A bit out of the ordinary, what? Just how does one go about nailing a pair of little whores like these two to the same cross, anyway? Any ideas?"

TO BE CONTINUED

try 1
try 2

 

[Barbaria1]

Great work Madi. Hard to decide which one I like best. Perhaps #2?

 

[Wragg]

View attachment 515759 try 1
View attachment 515760 try 2

Great work Madi. Hard to decide which one I like best. Perhaps #2?

I thought try 1, the Roman soldier is bigger and more threatening. Both are works of genius, though!

 

[Jollyrei]

That's for Barb and the illustrators, and everyone who made a comment, because I liked and echo all of them.

Great stuff Barb!

 

[Barbaria1]

11.

Under the blazing midday sun we suffer together, performing our seemingly endless and ultimately hopeless routine ... much to the delight of the throngs of sensation seekers that clog the roadway.

Time after time the ritual is repeated. It begins with a tug at the finger. Sometimes a word of encouragement. A gathering of strength and resolve. And then the push ... and the pull ... the shaky, faltering rise ... the struggle to maintain a precarious balance ... frantic gasps for air ... the cramping and exhaustion ... the trembling, swaying, faltering ... the inevitable collapse ... slumping against the hard unforgiving wood ... the lolling of the head, closing of the eyes, spreading of the knees.

The crowds cannot get enough of it. They cheer us on, point, jeer, clap, stomp their feet. For them it is an erotic display ... intoxicating spectacle.

And it goes on and on and on. We work together, find strength in our growing bond, sealed in the crucible of pain and suffering on the cross. We communicate as best we can. Each time we hang slumped against the wood gathering the strength and will to do it again, we exchange a few words.

I learn she is from a distant place, far to the north ... that my cross mate is six years younger than myself ... that we share a dark disdain for our brutish Roman masters, especially the likes of Lucretius and Markus ... that the slave girl on the cross beyond her is a princess of some Gaulish tribe subjugated by the Romans ...

But the sun is merciless and our strength finite. As the day wears on we weary. Each performance becomes briefer, more ragged, more uncertain than the one that preceded it. Sometimes one or the other of us collapses earlier than the other, or fails to stand.

And we hang slumped for longer and longer periods of time, mouths gaping wide open, eyes shut, panting, sweating, slipping into and out of reveries.

We are plagued by thirst. They give us water in a sponge, extended on a stick ... held at times teasingly, maddeningly, just beyond the reach of our parched lips. They laugh when we struggle to reach it, and at how desperately, greedily we partake of it when we succeed.

Nonetheless the crowd grows increasingly restless, disappointed by our lengthening periods of inactivity. The chant, jeer, demand to be entertained.

Then they fall strangely silent.

I start ... open my eyes ... peer through the sweat that stings them. Lucretius stands before me, a malevolent, sneering smile spreading along his thick lips. In his hand he holds a long wicked-looking leather whip!

"What is it? What's going on?" croaks my cross mate.

"Oh Shit!" I groan.

TO BE CONTINUED

 

[Madiosi]

That's for Barb and the illustrators, and everyone who made a comment, because I liked and echo all of them.

Great stuff Barb!

 

[Wragg]

In his hand he holds a long wicked-looking leather whip!

Oh.....

"Oh Shit! I groan".

That's the word I was looking for!

 

[Cella]

11.

Under the blazing midday sun we suffer together, performing our seemingly endless and ultimately hopeless routine ... much to the delight of the throngs of sensation seekers that clog the roadway.

Time after time the ritual is repeated. It begins with a tug at the finger. Sometimes a word of encouragement. A gathering of strength and resolve. And then the push ... and the pull ... the shaky, faltering rise ... the struggle to maintain a precarious balance ... frantic gasps for air ... the cramping and exhaustion ... the trembling, swaying, faltering ... the inevitable collapse ... slumping against the hard unforgiving wood ... the lolling of the head, closing of the eyes, spreading of the knees.

The crowds cannot get enough of it. They cheer us on, point, jeer, clap, stomp their feet. For them it is erotic display ... intoxicating spectacle.

And it goes on and on and on. We work together, find strength in our growing bond, sealed in the crucible of pain and suffering on the cross. We communicate as best we can. Each time we hang slumped against the wood gathering the strength and will to do it again, we exchange a few words.

I learn she is from a distant place, far to the north ... that my cross mate is six years younger than myself ... that we share a dark disdain for our brutish Roman masters, especially the likes of Lucretius and Markus ... that the slave girl on the cross beyond her is a princess of some Gaulish tribe subjugated by the Romans ...

But the sun is merciless and our strength finite. As the day wears on we weary. Each performance becomes briefer, more ragged, more uncertain than the one that preceded it. Sometimes one or the other of us collapses earlier than the other, or fails to stand.

And we hang slumped for longer and longer periods of time, mouths gaping wide open, eyes shut, panting, sweating, slipping into and out of reveries.

We are plagued by thirst. They give us water in a sponge, extended on a stick ... held at times teasingly, maddeningly just beyond the reach of our parched lips. They laugh when we struggle to reach it, and at how desperately, greedily we partake of it when we succeed.

Nonetheless the crowd grows increasingly restless, disappointed by our lengthening periods of inactivity. The chant, jeer, demand to be entertained.

Then they fall strangely silent.

I start ... open my eyes ... peer through the sweat that stings them. Lucretius stands before me, a malevolent, sneering smile spreading along his thick lips. In his hand he holds a long wicked-looking leather whip!

"What is it? What's going on?" croaks my cross mate.

"Oh Shit!" I groan.

TO BE CONTINUED

Obviously the spectators and your executioners think you and your cross mate are beginning to slacken in your efforts to provide entertainment. Getting lazy!

You hear them talking:

"What's this shit? The bitches are just hanging there! Barely moving at all!"

"Yeah! The younger one is so hot! I wanna see her tits bouncing more, and her snatch. She's barely showed it lately. Trying to keep her legs closed and all! Who the fuck does she think she is? Some high-class cunt?"

"Fuck this! I ain't standing out in this hot sun all day just to see 'em dangle there! Do something bitches!"

"Hey Lucretius, ya shoulda nailed them face to face with their tits crushed together! We'd see some hot action then, wouldn't we?"

"Yeah, rubbing their nipples together and all. And grinding their hips together!"

"Fuck that idea! You wanna just look at the ass of the girl in front all day. Wouldn't see no pussy or bouncing titties then, would ya?"

"Nah, this is best! Just walk around and see 'em both! The older bitch ain't got such big tits but look at the size of her nipples! Great legs too -- really long! Man, I'd love to between those thighs, fucking the shit outta her! Giving me a real boner! And her pussy is mostly shaved!"

"Shit man, put your cock away! Ya can't jerk off in public!"

"I like it when they move their asses off the wood, so their cheeks be pressed together. Wonder why they do it? They really lesbos or somethin? Looks like it really hurts 'em. So much grunting and groaning."

"C'mon Lucretius, do something with 'em. Get 'em moving again!"

 

[Madiosi]

3.

I start down the road, glad to be temporarily free of Lucretius and his groping hands. Markus leads the way. The other girl falls in behind me. Lucretius brings up the rear.

The entire roadway is a beehive of activity. Prisoners and soldiers everywhere ... the former being driven to their waiting crosses, the latter busying themselves with the task of crucifying their charges.

After a short distance, Markus calls a halt. He points to a cross lying in the ditch, and proclaims it suitable for our use. The girl and I are ordered into the ditch and told to sit down near the cross while our handlers debate how to proceed.

"I say we nail them to the cross one on top of the other," says Lucretius, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "That should do the trick."

"Well, if we do that ... ummmm .... won't that put too much weight on one side?" answered Lucretius, eyeing me thoughtfully.

"I think it should be alright, the question is whether to have them facing each other or both facing the road."

"No, I think we should do it back-to-back, one of them on each side of the cross."

"Then how will we nail the second one? We will already have one nailed to the side facing up. How will we get the second one underneath the damn thing?"

It was pretty obvious this discussion was going nowhere soon, so I turned my attention to the girl with whom I will share the cross. Up until now I had studiously ignored her. No point in getting to know someone who will soon be dead.

"What if we set the cross on it's side?" suggests Markus.

"How will we support it while we nail them to it?" questions Lucretius.

The girl appears dirty and disheveled. Her hair is matted and snarled, and half hides her down-turned face. She sits bent forward with her knees drawn up, arms bound behind her back. Like me, they have stripped her to the waist. Her breasts are pressed against her thighs.

Meanwhile the work of crucifying 200 prisoners is proceeding quickly. From up and down the road come the shouts and orders of the legionary execution crews ... the ring of hammers striking iron nails, and the screams and howls of victims. A number of crosses had already been raised, and others are going up.

Fortunately for us our executioners are still arguing over how to proceed.

I decide to try to get the other girl's attention. I stretch out one leg and nudge her flank with my toes. She starts at the touch, slowly raises her head, shakes her hair from her eyes and regards me curiously. I force a smile ... of sorts. She responds, cute smile lines framing her mouth.

"I think we should go back to the idea of one on top of the other," proclaims Markus.

"I disagree," says Lucretius waving his hands in the air.

Suddenly the sun is blotted out. A shadow falls over us. The Optio has returned!

"Futuo!" he explodes. "You idiots! What the fuck do you think you are doing? You have accomplished nothing. Stop gabbing and get on with it! You are making the whole Centuria look bad!'

Markus and Lucretius snap to attention, looking sheepish and offering a babble of explanation.

"Enough! Crucify these two! And do it fast!" he snaps, cutting them off and turning on his heel to stomp off.

"Shit!" says Markus.

I hear the Optio mutter darkly to himself as he crosses the road to inspect a newly raised cross, "Next time someone orders me to decimate the rank and file .... "


TO BE CONTINUED

 

[Repertor]

Fine illustrations, Madiosi. All of them.

Lucretius stands before me, a malevolent, sneering smile spreading along his thick lips. In his hand he holds a long wicked-looking leather whip!

Lucretius is encouraged by the crowd.
It's his moment of glory.

 

[Loxuru]

Then they fall strangely silent.

I start ... open my eyes ... peer through the sweat that stings them. Lucretius stands before me, a malevolent, sneering smile spreading along his thick lips. In his hand he holds a long wicked-looking leather whip!

"What is it? What's going on?" croaks my cross mate.

"Oh Shit!" I groan.

Lucretius of course does not work for free!
"Lucretius! Come one man, make them move their lazy ass!"
"Sorry folks, if you want to see their ass move, I want to see asses first!"
"That's mean, man!"
"No bucks, no show! One sestertius for five lashes! No bargaining!"

Great chapter!