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The false priestess @Kathy is hoisted up, screaming, nailed naked to the patibulum. Her body drips with blood, sweat, and urine.
The wood is attached to the stipes and then the soldiers grab her feet, trying to hold her violently trembling limbs steady in order to hammer the nails in.
In the meantime another soldier removes the titulus from around her neck, pricking his arms on her crown of thorns.
"Curse you, you bitch!", he spits at her as the crown bleeds his arms.
The titulus is now attached to the top of the cross. This has been done according to @jimsac's instructions. The high priest wants to make sure that this heretic's offence is seen from afar.
 

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The woman's slippery, shaking feet constantly foil any attempt at nailing them to the cross.
"Get a piece of rope and tie her legs to the cross, you bumbling idiots!", growls the officer.
They refasten her legs.
Now secure one holds her foot flat against the wood as the other hammers the nails in.
The pain is truly excruciating.
@Kathy yells out in pain, pulling her whole body upwards and to one side.
Her crowned head dislodges the titulus perched on top of the stipes.
The crown of mockery, and her titulus fall away, landing on top of one of her crucifiers' heads.

<shades of Strixx>
 

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The woman's slippery, shaking feet constantly foil any attempt at nailing them to the cross.
"Get a piece of rope and tie her legs to the cross, you bumbling idiots!", growls the officer.
They refasten her legs.
Now secure one holds her foot flat against the wood as the other hammers the nails in.
The pain is truly excruciating.
@Kathy yells out in pain, pulling her whole body upwards and to one side.
Her crowned head dislodges the titulus perched on top of the stipes.
The crown of mockery, and her titulus fall away, landing on top of one of her crucifiers' heads.

<shades of Strixx>
Beautiful nailing!
 
In her last moments, her body is numb and the pain has gone. The woman tries to lift her head but her energy is gone. With a deep sigh, she lapses into merciful death.
isn't it the natural instinct of any creature in its last moments,
to crawl away, curl up, and hide somewhere when the end approaches?
But nailed stark naked to the cross even that is taken, even those last seconds pass in public, exposed.

Mercifully while they still stare, my vision tunnels and darkens,
a blizzard of black snow swirls about me, so cold, as the ringing in my ears crescendoes into a roar and then,
it's silence and darkness, no weight, ...

a feeling as if spinning and tumbling ... falling into the abyss or crashing against the crystal sphere of the sky itself ...
jagged edges ripping flesh from bone, one more last, agonizing searing pain,
skin ripped from muscle, flesh scraped from bone, bone ripped off of ... a thin silver thread ... drifting to ... where ever ...
 
isn't it the natural instinct of any creature in its last moments,
to crawl away, curl up, and hide somewhere when the end approaches?
But nailed stark naked to the cross even that is taken, even those last seconds pass in public, exposed.

Mercifully while they still stare, my vision tunnels and darkens,
a blizzard of black snow swirls about me, so cold, as the ringing in my ears crescendoes into a roar and then,
it's silence and darkness, no weight, ...

a feeling as if spinning and tumbling ... falling into the abyss or crashing against the crystal sphere of the sky itself ...
jagged edges ripping flesh from bone, one more last, agonizing searing pain,
skin ripped from muscle, flesh scraped from bone, bone ripped off of ... a thin silver thread ... drifting to ... where ever ...
Lovely spiralling ending. Even in death the crucified woman is a thing of beauty and fascination.
 
isn't it the natural instinct of any creature in its last moments,
to crawl away, curl up, and hide somewhere when the end approaches?
But nailed stark naked to the cross even that is taken, even those last seconds pass in public, exposed.

Mercifully while they still stare, my vision tunnels and darkens,
a blizzard of black snow swirls about me, so cold, as the ringing in my ears crescendoes into a roar and then,
it's silence and darkness, no weight, ...

a feeling as if spinning and tumbling ... falling into the abyss or crashing against the crystal sphere of the sky itself ...
jagged edges ripping flesh from bone, one more last, agonizing searing pain,
skin ripped from muscle, flesh scraped from bone, bone ripped off of ... a thin silver thread ... drifting to ... where ever ...
I've often been fascinated by the instinct for privacy at the time of death, and how crucifixion puts that intimate, final struggle with death on public display. There's a psychological anguish there, a sort of psychological rape, or forced nakedness of the soul, I think, that's hard to define.
 
I've often been fascinated by the instinct for privacy at the time of death, and how crucifixion puts that intimate, final struggle with death on public display. There's a psychological anguish there, a sort of psychological rape, or forced nakedness of the soul, I think, that's hard to define.
I find the psychological humiliation of the victim very erotic. The crucifixion process was intended to produce both pain and psychological humiliation.
 
I love this kathy cycle, everything looks great, she does the walk nude with the patibulum carried the right way, the crucifixion pose is excellent... Perfect so far, I hope it continues
It will continue, albeit at a slower rate. I’m passing through a dry cycle right now. Eventually the inspiration will return. Anyone interested in a ‘filler’ short story about Imensa, another woman who would be queen??
 
Ecce Regina
========

They stripped the rebel leader Imensa naked. To further humiliate her grandiose pretensions, they 'honored' her with a crown of thorns, jammed tightly on her golden scalp. A titulus proclaiming her ridiculous claim is hung from her neck.
How could she have even considered opposing the might of Rome?
Just because she was the daughter of a barbarian chieftain with grandiose ambitions?
The father they had already dealt with. The daughter they would torture - slowly...

Yet she stands before them - naked, yes, but her proud bearing radiates defiance, a far cry from the humiliation and pain they wish to inflict upon her.

<do you want to see more of Imensa?>
 

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Ecce Regina
========

They stripped the rebel leader Imensa naked. To further humiliate her grandiose pretensions, they 'honored' her with a crown of thorns, jammed tightly on her golden scalp. A titulus proclaiming her ridiculous claim is hung from her neck.
How could she have even considered opposing the might of Rome?
Just because she was the daughter of a barbarian chieftain with grandiose ambitions?
The father they had already dealt with. The daughter they would torture - slowly...

Yet she stands before them - naked, yes, but her proud bearing radiates defiance, a far cry from the humiliation and pain they wish to inflict upon her.

<do you want to see more of Imensa?>
Yes please, I want it Immensly!
 
For Gabriella, the sky is a mix of blue, of sunlight suddenly shining directly in her eyes, of dark shadows framing thug faces grinning as they watch her, all seen through the blur of tears, blood and spit covering her beautiful green eyes.

While laying on the ground, she is perfectly aware of everything, her senses sharper than ever. Her back aches, touching directly on the floor. The wound under her breast, where the scourge chopped off a little piece of her living flesh, aches. Her head aches, the thorns cruelly piercing her forehead and scalp. Her pussy and ass ache, and each time she closes her eyes for a second she can see again in her mind the images of the soldiers raping her, taking pleasure from her pain.

She is terrorized, from what is soon going to happen. And she gasps for breath, again and again, her perky tits move up and down, involuntarily giving a sexy show to the soldiers and mob around. When she gave herself to the Romans to save her people she couldn't imagine all this.

Then somebody around her barks out loud: "Strip her!" and immediately they yank the purple cloak from her. When it reopens the scourge wounds it was attached to and scratches on the others, Gabriella whimpers piteously, biting her lower lip, trying desperately not to scream again..."aaaahhhmmmmaaaahhh aaaahhhhhhh". But the scene is too much for one soldier, who bends forward and tweaks and pulls her left nipple, his long dirty fingernails scratching her sensitive tender skin. Gabriella opens her mouth and lets a moan of pain escaper her lips..."aaammAAAAAAHHHH" and this seems to satisfy the soldier, who cruelly twists her nipple once more then gets up.

But the activity does not stop around the Queen. They rapidly start assembling her cross, passing the ropes through the iron rings along the beam that will hoist the patibulum on the tree of shame, with Gabriella attached on it. One from the execution squad, the civilians from her own people who sold themselves to the Romans, raises a leather bag in front of her so that he is sure that she has seen it, than lets it fall on the ground. The loud sharp CLANG! as it hits the floor leaves Gabriella no doubt that it contains the thick nails that will cruelly fix her tender limbs to the hard wood, sending her in her private Hell on Earth. A thought flashes suddenly in her mind: "how can they so cruel to show her the instruments they will use to torture her to death, making of her hours and hours of suffering a show to entertain the mob?"

One of the soldiers has brought a flask full wine, and has started sharing it with his comrades. They are already half-drunk. Two starts fighting over her robe. Another claims that he wants the crown of thorns, "once that we're done with her" and he shouts it so that she can hear him, his figure looming over her beautiful form. Finally, a third comes and stops them: "we'll play dice for them, will be fun guys!"

Her crucifixion is getting closer and closer.
What a great explanation, I can almost feel being in that scene, with the queen a few meters from me, seeing her face of fear knowing what is about to happen to her
 
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