Jedakk's Masterpiece

[Deleted member jedakk]

With her whipping finished, it was time for Sabina to carry her patibulum to the place of execution, where she would be crucified. She hoped and prayed that her domina, Julia Lepida, would show her mercy and let the whipping be enough. But then they put the heavy iron slave collar around her neck, pulled her up to her feet and put a ragged loincloth on her. Then they put the wooden timber on her shoulder, with her wrists chained across it, and it was time for her to start walking toward the last place she would ever go.

Sabina narrates what happened to her:

I lay there propped up against the post, blinking water out of my eyes, willing the moment to last just a little longer. I had the silly thought that if I kept still and quiet, they might leave me alone, let me rest. But just then I became aware of one of the Nubians next to me, then felt him twine his fingers in my sodden hair and take a firm grip. Alarmed, I tried to twist my head around to see what he was doing, but his hold was much too strong. Then I felt the cool hard metal of the heavy iron slave collar slipping around my neck. Salonina told me not to resist, I thought, so I simply lay there while he closed it and locked it in place.

No sooner was that done than they took me by the arms and hauled me to my feet. The movement tugged at the welted skin of my back, making me moan. Hercules fastened a length of chain to a ring on the collar, its purpose obvious. They would lead me to my death like a dog. I stood unsteadily with my hands resting on the whipping post, using it for support. My knees were weak and my body was still trembling from what they had done to me, but I’d had all the time they were going to give me to recover myself.

Next, they wound a ragged piece of cloth around my hips, pulled it up between my legs, and knotted it in front. I supposed that this was something that Julia Lepida had ordered, since where we used to live almost all of the condemned we’d seen on their way to the cross had been naked. Maybe Salonina had been wrong after all; they might allow me to wear the loincloth on the cross as well. Spots of blood began to soak through the cloth from the welts I could see; I knew there had to be many more in the back.

The pain of the whip marks that covered my back was growing worse as I stood there. There was no way that my Domina would let this go on. Any moment now she would tell them to stop, take me home and this would all be a bad memory.

A patibulum, the wooden beam that forms the top of a cross, was lying ready nearby. My patibulum for my cross. I saw Hercules stoop to pick that up now. It was almost as long as I am tall, maybe five feet, and he carried it easily in one hand by the mortise hole in its center. Ajax helped him slip the beam under the chain of my shackles and set it on my left shoulder so that I ended up with my hands steadying it and the chains across its top to prevent me dropping it or setting it down.

They were about to lead me to my crucifixion.
​

I've always thought how horrific it would be to have to carry the instrument of your torture and death to the place of execution. You'd have plenty of time to look at it, think about those old nail holes and dried blood on it, and imagine your own arms stretched out there, the nails through your wrists, pinning them to it until you were dead. The conflicting desires for it to be over quickly, but the desire to live, also.

 

[dukiedog]

Your work has well stood the test of time as being the best crucifixion work, pictures and text, up to this point in time. If you have more from Sabina's walk, I would certainly appreciate it. If not, thank you for putting all of these up on this forum for us to enjoy once more!

 

[Barbaria1]

Just simply the best whipping scene ever jedakk....love it!

 

[Deleted member jedakk]

Your work has well stood the test of time as being the best crucifixion work, pictures and text, up to this point in time. If you have more from Sabina's walk, I would certainly appreciate it. If not, thank you for putting all of these up on this forum for us to enjoy once more!

I have several more renders from Sabina's walk to her crucifixion, and then a lot more from her crucifixion that I'll post in sets, along with excerpts from the story to go with them. This will continue for several weeks yet before I run out. Glad you liked them!

 

[Deleted member jedakk]

Just simply the best whipping scene ever jedakk....love it!

Thanks, I wish now I'd illustrated more of it.

 

[Madiosi]

I have several more renders from Sabina's walk to her crucifixion, and then a lot more from her crucifixion that I'll post in sets, along with excerpts from the story to go with them. This will continue for several weeks yet before I run out. Glad you liked them!

We like this!

 

[william23]

Really looking forward to the unseen renders. An awsome series and very, very well written and illustrated. Keep them coming!!

 

[Deleted member jedakk]

Sabina begins walking unsteadily toward the place of execution where she will be crucified. The timber she carries grows heavy very quickly; Sabina thinks it must weigh almost a talent, which was a Roman unit of weight, about 71 pounds, but that's an exaggeration. Based on its size, a dry, seasoned timber like that would typically weigh about 45 pounds. Still, she's small, she's just had a severe whipping, and this is a heavy burden for her to carry almost a mile.

As she walks through the forum on her way, Ajax goes before her, holding up her titulus and announcing that she is on her way to be crucified. People laugh and taunt her. Some join the procession, wanting to see her nailed to a cross naked. Sabina narrates what happens to her:

I looked around frantically for Julia Lepida, saw her getting into the litter she had hired to carry her, and called out to her. “Domina, don’t let them crucify me! Please! I’ll be good, you’ll see! No, wait, Domina, please don’t leave me!” But she never turned to look.

Just then a yank on my chain sent me staggering forward and I cried out as the whip stung my back. When I got my balance, I looked up to see the bearers lift the litter and carry her away, along with any hope I had that this nightmare would stop before they marched me to the place of execution.

The beam must have weighed almost a talent, and with my wrists chained across it I couldn’t drop it. It hurt my shoulder and it wasn’t long until the significance of the dark stains and square holes in the end of the beam in front of me filtered through my pain and fear. Unless Julia Lepida had mercy on me, one of my wrists would be nailed near that spot and my blood would join that of the others who had struggled their lives away nailed to this rough timber.



I staggered under the weight of the beam, jerked along by the chain on my slave collar and urged on by the whip that stung me every time the big German slave thought I wasn’t moving enthusiastically enough toward my execution. The effort of carrying the heavy beam had me dripping with sweat that stung the already-burning welts that covered my back. My shoulder was cramping and I was tempted to fall just to be able to put the patibulum down for a brief moment of rest and to stretch out the bunched-up muscles. But my fear of the whipping I would get for that kept me putting one foot in front of the other.



My breasts are not overly large, but they jiggled with every staggering step and I was sure that provided a show for the crowd that surrounded us and grew as our procession passed through the Subura. When my eyes met theirs, I saw only amusement or lust, no sympathy. I knew that all of them were looking forward to seeing me without the loincloth and hanging naked on a cross when I got to my journey’s end.



One way or another, I wouldn’t have to walk any further than the Sessorium, the place of execution on the flat open area outside of the city wall at the top of the Esquiline Hill. The Slave Market is on the low ground near the Tiber, so it’s an uphill climb all the way. The Clivus Suburanus is steep, particularly the part just before you reach the wall, so you can’t see what’s on top of the hill until you’ve crested the slope, almost at the gate.



But you can smell it. It is the smell of death. Just beyond the wall are the puticulae, the pits where all of Rome throws its refuse – everything from dead animals to unwanted babies. Nearby are the paupers’ graves, and just beyond is the Sessorium, where those already dead under Roman law expend their last days of life in agony, and then hang there to rot and feed the crows. Where I would be very soon.

I had been climbing for so long carrying the patibulum with my eyes on the uneven pavement in front of me and trying to keep moving through the pain that I had fallen into a kind of trance, where my goal was just to put one foot in front of the other. I had gotten used to the fact that every time I looked up, there was only more gray stone paving leading uphill toward the wall. I was occupied with trying to avoid a pile of ox manure when we reached the top, so when I looked up again and saw where I was, I felt a shudder of cold fear and my knees went weak.

I stumbled, the Nubian in front of me jerked on my chain, and I fell just before the Esquiline Gate. I couldn’t catch myself other than with the end of the beam. It hit the paving stones with a thunk and I rolled over and landed on my side on top of it with my left arm underneath. I was still staring at the sight in front of me, even with one Nubian jerking my chain and the other whipping my raw back. Just beyond the gate was the forest of crosses that is Rome’s Sessorium.​

Note that the picture below is a victim's-eye view, where I put a camera where Sabina's eyes would be to get her view of things.

 

[thehangingtree]

Very well told and illustrated. The 'first person' point of view is very well done!

T

 

[Madiosi]

Sabina begins walking unsteadily toward the place of execution where she will be crucified. The timber she carries grows heavy very quickly; Sabina thinks it must weigh almost a talent, which was a Roman unit of weight, about 71 pounds, but that's an exaggeration. Based on its size, a dry, seasoned timber like that would typically weigh about 45 pounds. Still, she's small, she's just had a severe whipping, and this is a heavy burden for her to carry almost a mile.

As she walks through the forum on her way, Ajax goes before her, holding up her titulus and announcing that she is on her way to be crucified. People laugh and taunt her. Some join the procession, wanting to see her nailed to a cross naked. Sabina narrates what happens to her:

I looked around frantically for Julia Lepida, saw her getting into the litter she had hired to carry her, and called out to her. “Domina, don’t let them crucify me! Please! I’ll be good, you’ll see! No, wait, Domina, please don’t leave me!” But she never turned to look.

Just then a yank on my chain sent me staggering forward and I cried out as the whip stung my back. When I got my balance, I looked up to see the bearers lift the litter and carry her away, along with any hope I had that this nightmare would stop before they marched me to the place of execution.

The beam must have weighed almost a talent, and with my wrists chained across it I couldn’t drop it. It hurt my shoulder and it wasn’t long until the significance of the dark stains and square holes in the end of the beam in front of me filtered through my pain and fear. Unless Julia Lepida had mercy on me, one of my wrists would be nailed near that spot and my blood would join that of the others who had struggled their lives away nailed to this rough timber.



I staggered under the weight of the beam, jerked along by the chain on my slave collar and urged on by the whip that stung me every time the big German slave thought I wasn’t moving enthusiastically enough toward my execution. The effort of carrying the heavy beam had me dripping with sweat that stung the already-burning welts that covered my back. My shoulder was cramping and I was tempted to fall just to be able to put the patibulum down for a brief moment of rest and to stretch out the bunched-up muscles. But my fear of the whipping I would get for that kept me putting one foot in front of the other.



My breasts are not overly large, but they jiggled with every staggering step and I was sure that provided a show for the crowd that surrounded us and grew as our procession passed through the Subura. When my eyes met theirs, I saw only amusement or lust, no sympathy. I knew that all of them were looking forward to seeing me without the loincloth and hanging naked on a cross when I got to my journey’s end.



One way or another, I wouldn’t have to walk any further than the Sessorium, the place of execution on the flat open area outside of the city wall at the top of the Esquiline Hill. The Slave Market is on the low ground near the Tiber, so it’s an uphill climb all the way. The Clivus Suburanus is steep, particularly the part just before you reach the wall, so you can’t see what’s on top of the hill until you’ve crested the slope, almost at the gate.



But you can smell it. It is the smell of death. Just beyond the wall are the puticulae, the pits where all of Rome throws its refuse – everything from dead animals to unwanted babies. Nearby are the paupers’ graves, and just beyond is the Sessorium, where those already dead under Roman law expend their last days of life in agony, and then hang there to rot and feed the crows. Where I would be very soon.

I had been climbing for so long carrying the patibulum with my eyes on the uneven pavement in front of me and trying to keep moving through the pain that I had fallen into a kind of trance, where my goal was just to put one foot in front of the other. I had gotten used to the fact that every time I looked up, there was only more gray stone paving leading uphill toward the wall. I was occupied with trying to avoid a pile of ox manure when we reached the top, so when I looked up again and saw where I was, I felt a shudder of cold fear and my knees went weak.

I stumbled, the Nubian in front of me jerked on my chain, and I fell just before the Esquiline Gate. I couldn’t catch myself other than with the end of the beam. It hit the paving stones with a thunk and I rolled over and landed on my side on top of it with my left arm underneath. I was still staring at the sight in front of me, even with one Nubian jerking my chain and the other whipping my raw back. Just beyond the gate was the forest of crosses that is Rome’s Sessorium.​

Note that the picture below is a victim's-eye view, where I put a camera where Sabina's eyes would be to get her view of things.

What will become of us if jedakk has no more material. My daily dose large cinema here. I dread the drying up of this source of entertainment.
Do I have to reactivate TV? Oh God, Jedakk give further extraordinary inspiration and creativity!
Amen

 

[admihoek]

Sabina begins walking unsteadily toward the place of execution where she will be crucified. The timber she carries grows heavy very quickly; Sabina thinks it must weigh almost a talent, which was a Roman unit of weight, about 71 pounds, but that's an exaggeration. Based on its size, a dry, seasoned timber like that would typically weigh about 45 pounds. Still, she's small, she's just had a severe whipping, and this is a heavy burden for her to carry almost a mile.

looking at the pics .........................I wonder what is the women in blue doing.......................... in four pics.............. no changing in her position at all............... but they...............the pics are good.

 

[Barbaria1]

Sabina begins walking unsteadily toward the place of execution where she will be crucified. The timber she carries grows heavy very quickly; Sabina thinks it must weigh almost a talent, which was a Roman unit of weight, about 71 pounds, but that's an exaggeration. Based on its size, a dry, seasoned timber like that would typically weigh about 45 pounds. Still, she's small, she's just had a severe whipping, and this is a heavy burden for her to carry almost a mile.

As she walks through the forum on her way, Ajax goes before her, holding up her titulus and announcing that she is on her way to be crucified. People laugh and taunt her. Some join the procession, wanting to see her nailed to a cross naked. Sabina narrates what happens to her:

I looked around frantically for Julia Lepida, saw her getting into the litter she had hired to carry her, and called out to her. “Domina, don’t let them crucify me! Please! I’ll be good, you’ll see! No, wait, Domina, please don’t leave me!” But she never turned to look.

Just then a yank on my chain sent me staggering forward and I cried out as the whip stung my back. When I got my balance, I looked up to see the bearers lift the litter and carry her away, along with any hope I had that this nightmare would stop before they marched me to the place of execution.

The beam must have weighed almost a talent, and with my wrists chained across it I couldn’t drop it. It hurt my shoulder and it wasn’t long until the significance of the dark stains and square holes in the end of the beam in front of me filtered through my pain and fear. Unless Julia Lepida had mercy on me, one of my wrists would be nailed near that spot and my blood would join that of the others who had struggled their lives away nailed to this rough timber.



I staggered under the weight of the beam, jerked along by the chain on my slave collar and urged on by the whip that stung me every time the big German slave thought I wasn’t moving enthusiastically enough toward my execution. The effort of carrying the heavy beam had me dripping with sweat that stung the already-burning welts that covered my back. My shoulder was cramping and I was tempted to fall just to be able to put the patibulum down for a brief moment of rest and to stretch out the bunched-up muscles. But my fear of the whipping I would get for that kept me putting one foot in front of the other.



My breasts are not overly large, but they jiggled with every staggering step and I was sure that provided a show for the crowd that surrounded us and grew as our procession passed through the Subura. When my eyes met theirs, I saw only amusement or lust, no sympathy. I knew that all of them were looking forward to seeing me without the loincloth and hanging naked on a cross when I got to my journey’s end.



One way or another, I wouldn’t have to walk any further than the Sessorium, the place of execution on the flat open area outside of the city wall at the top of the Esquiline Hill. The Slave Market is on the low ground near the Tiber, so it’s an uphill climb all the way. The Clivus Suburanus is steep, particularly the part just before you reach the wall, so you can’t see what’s on top of the hill until you’ve crested the slope, almost at the gate.



But you can smell it. It is the smell of death. Just beyond the wall are the puticulae, the pits where all of Rome throws its refuse – everything from dead animals to unwanted babies. Nearby are the paupers’ graves, and just beyond is the Sessorium, where those already dead under Roman law expend their last days of life in agony, and then hang there to rot and feed the crows. Where I would be very soon.

I had been climbing for so long carrying the patibulum with my eyes on the uneven pavement in front of me and trying to keep moving through the pain that I had fallen into a kind of trance, where my goal was just to put one foot in front of the other. I had gotten used to the fact that every time I looked up, there was only more gray stone paving leading uphill toward the wall. I was occupied with trying to avoid a pile of ox manure when we reached the top, so when I looked up again and saw where I was, I felt a shudder of cold fear and my knees went weak.

I stumbled, the Nubian in front of me jerked on my chain, and I fell just before the Esquiline Gate. I couldn’t catch myself other than with the end of the beam. It hit the paving stones with a thunk and I rolled over and landed on my side on top of it with my left arm underneath. I was still staring at the sight in front of me, even with one Nubian jerking my chain and the other whipping my raw back. Just beyond the gate was the forest of crosses that is Rome’s Sessorium.​

Note that the picture below is a victim's-eye view, where I put a camera where Sabina's eyes would be to get her view of things.

 

[Eulalia]

looking at the pics .........................I wonder what is the women in blue doing.......................... in four pics.............. no changing in her position at all............... but they...............the pics are good.

I think, like many of Jeddak's groups of pictures,
there are several representing the same moment,
from different angles and perspectives?

As for the woman in blue,
I guess our Italian friends would be best able to tell us,
I think I'd interpret her gesture as something like,
'Look at you, pathetic loser, you're shitting yourself!'

 

[Deleted member jedakk]

Very well told and illustrated. The 'first person' point of view is very well done!

T

Thanks! I have tried that a few times, but most of the time it's not a very interesting view; this one is better than most I think. The problem with that pic is that in order to get the scope of view that I wanted, I had to use a 25mm lens - digitally simulated, of course - and being almost a "fisheye" lens that produced a lot of distortion.

 

[thehangingtree]

Thanks! I have tried that a few times, but most of the time it's not a very interesting view; this one is better than most I think. The problem with that pic is that in order to get the scope of view that I wanted, I had to use a 25mm lens - digitally simulated, of course - and being almost a "fisheye" lens that produced a lot of distortion.

"Don't ask- don't tell..."

It worked so take a bow. The problem with a wide angle lens (digital or on film) is that you produce a picture in 2D instead of 3D. Even my old eyes have a range of vision of more than 180 degrees but it is 3D across the range.

 

[Deleted member jedakk]

I think, like many of Jeddak's groups of pictures,
there are several representing the same moment,
from different angles and perspectives?

As for the woman in blue,
I guess our Italian friends would be best able to tell us,
I think I'd interpret her gesture as something like,
'Look at you, pathetic loser, you're shitting yourself!'

Yes, most of these groups of pics are of the same scene, different views. In the story illustrations I had to select a couple from each scene only, so these are mostly just the ones that came in second. I think 7-7 and 7-8 are the ones I used in the actual illustrations.

Some of the rest of these are new, just rendered them last night. I hated that I had so few carrying scenes, so I went back and took another look at them. The characters ahead of Sabina, including the girl in blue, are new, some crowd characters I created and have in various poses in a menu in Poser so I can quickly add them to a scene. All of the buildings and street ahead of Sabina wasn't there before.

I have the girl in blue in 22 poses. I don't know how much you can tell from these thumbnails, but here are some of them. I didn't save the test renders from when I created her, apparently.


Here's the one render I have of her sitting cross-legged:



She might be sitting on the ground in front of Sabina's crucifixion watching her agonized suffering, or watching anything in fascination. Once I have a character like this inserted into a scene, I can easily change her face, hair, skin, etc. and make her into a completely different character.

And here is my Verina prostitute character in a kneeling pose, perhaps watching Publius, the bastard that raped her and beat her up, suffering on his cross next to Lucilla. Yes, I know there is a problem with her necklace in this test render - sorry! Roman prostitutes, at least about the time of the late republic/early empire, were required to wear red togas ("flame red" according to Colleen McCullough, not sure where she got that). The toga was generally reserved for men, but prostitutes were an exception, maybe because a toga was quick and easy to get out of. I didn't have a toga to put on Verina, so I settled for a short chiton instead, and I made it flame red because I wanted her to stand out.

 

[Deleted member jedakk]

What will become of us if jedakk has no more material. My daily dose large cinema here. I dread the drying up of this source of entertainment.
Do I have to reactivate TV? Oh God, Jedakk give further extraordinary inspiration and creativity!
Amen

We still have quite a bit yet to go with Sabina, but there will be an end! I probably will have more writing and art work from time to time, but I can't imagine that I'll do another story of the magnitude of The Serpent's Eye. I'm working on a story now that I got inspired to do in a discussion with my muse; we'll see how that goes, but better reactivate the tv in the meantime!

 

[Madiosi]

better reactivate the tv in the meantime!

Devilish

 

[Deleted member jedakk]

Here are a few more test renders of Verina, my Roman prostitute character, where I was working on poses, the transparency of her dress, etc. I was thinking of using these for crowd scenes, maybe a few hours after the crucifixion or the next day. People would get tired of standing around watching, but they might sit around on the ground, visit and chat, get drunk, have a picnic lunch, etc. while watching the entertainment.

On the technical side, this is a difficult pose. The chiton she is wearing is dynamic cloth, which requires an animation sequence, beginning with the girl standing, then moving to this sitting pose with the cloth draping and following until it comes to rest in this pose. It becomes a bit complicated when she's in the sitting position because the cloth has to collide against both her and the ground, and if they're too close together the math will blow up and you'll get a mess.

Since this is not really a crux scene, I don't know that anyone will be interested in this, but here they are.

 

[Deleted member jedakk]

Sabina was plodding up the steep slope of the Clivus Suburanus, which leads through the Subura toward the Esquiline Gate. Just before the gate, she reached the crest of the slope and through the gate, could see her destination: The Sessorium, Rome's place of execution, where they would nail her to her cross. She immediately collapsed.

According to the carnifex, victims often did that when they reached that point. There's a scene that follows where there's an argument among the executioner's helpers, and we learn some things about Roman crucifixion practices from Balbus.

Balbus, the carnifex, tells us what happened next:

“Hercules!” I whacked him across the shoulders with my vitis to get his attention. “Your head must be as hard as Priapus’ dick!“

My whole procession had come to a halt. The slave girl Sabina had just kissed the pavement on her way to the cross and now that son of a Nubian whore Hercules was whipping her ass as if that was somehow going to make her feet sprout wings like Mercury.

“How many times do I have to tell you? We crucify them, asshole! Crucify them! Not flog them to death! The part of you that was supposed to be brains must have run down your mother’s leg!”

Hercules was sulking like a scolded child. I turned and glared at Ajax and Gundericus, my new German slave, who were arguing loudly. Gundericus was not as tall as Ajax, but he had muscles like an ox, wild red hair knotted on the side of his head and a massive, bristling moustache that must have tickled the thighs of many a wild German girl.

“Great Jupiter’s balls! What is this, a lovers’ quarrel?! Is all of Rome supposed to stop and wait while you boys decide which of you gets his dick polished and which one gets his asshole reamed tonight?”

Gundericus gave me a shocked look. “No, Domine, it wasn’t that…”

“I’d sooner take Pluto’s thorny dick up my ass!” Ajax said, then turned to me. “I made a bet with him that this girl would fall right here, just before the Esquiline Gate and he accepted!”

“Ajax jerked her chain!” Gundericus shouted, still looking angry.

“Did not!” Ajax growled. The crowd would have loved to have seen a fight between these two, but now was not the time.

“Both of you assholes shut up!” I roared. “Gundericus, that knot in your hair must be constricting your brain for you to make a bet like that. You haven’t learned yet that nine out of ten of these slaves plant their asses right here. As soon as they see those crosses through that gate their legs fold up. Ajax knows that. Betting with him is like throwing your money in the Tiber. Pay him and consider it part of your education.

“And you, Ajax, quit fucking with the new guy! You and Hercules get her on her feet and march her the rest of the way. Carry her if you have to. Now move! Those storm clouds in the east are coming this way. I want her nailed to a cross before the rain gets here!”

Ajax and Hercules got the slave girl upright with her patibulum on her shoulder, positioned her between them and got her staggering in the right direction. She dug her heels in and tried to resist a few times, screaming for her Domina. The crowd liked that and some of the worthless cocksuckers laughed, grabbed their balls and made humping motions, calling for her Domina to come help them, too.

Despite the delay, such episodes are the kinds of things these shit-eating maggots remember, so they are good for my business. As I said, victims on their way to the cross go down right at that spot almost without fail. That’s the reason Rome’s official Carnifex Servorum always drapes a cloth over the heads of the condemned. They can see the ground at their feet, but they can’t see where they’re going. The soldiers can lead them right up to their crosses before they even know they’re there.

All very smooth, but part of the show my victims give them is the horror when they know they’re getting close and they can almost feel the points of those nails. People see that and they know how bad it’s going to be. Oh, some of these crowbait victims think they’ll be brave facing death, and maybe they even get through the whipping with some dignity. But then they reach this gate, they see all those crosses, and their courage evaporates like the morning dew. There’s a difference between bravery in the face of death and being brave when you’re facing death only after three or four days of agony on the cross.​

At this point, Balbus goes into some of his back story about his time in the Legions, the crucifixion of 400 slaves from the household of Pedanius Secundus, crucifixions in Judea, and back to the present.

Our procession spilled out through the Esquiline gate onto the plateau at the top of the hill, flat as a she-mule’s cunnus. The crowd, no longer constricted by the narrow street, spread out on either side of the road as the cocksuckers jostled each other for a better view. A northerly breeze blessed us with the stink from the puticuli, the deep pits to our left just outside the wall, where all of Rome dumps its garbage.

Hercules, strong as a mule, was dragging Sabina by her chain and Ajax had a handful of the little slave girl’s ass, having himself a good feel and moving her along smartly. She balked and tried to dig in her heels, desperate to stave off what was coming. Nothing new in that, there weren’t many who made the last walk to their cross without a struggle. But she had less chance than a fart in a whirlwind of slowing Hercules and Ajax, who laughed along with the crowd at her puny efforts. Nothing she could do would delay her execution.




​

In the above passage, I got the expression "flat as a she-mule's cunnus" from a friend, many years ago, who used to use the expression "flat as a jenny's pussy" to describe a flat piece of land. A jenny was a female mule, and according to him he'd had plenty of opportunity to learn what their genitals looked like while plowing. The Romans used mules, so maybe some of them used a similar expression.