_CADRE_
Magistrate
Crucifixion and Death Mini-Series
My anxious, apprehensive, and fearful thoughts wake me each and every day. Here I try to unleash my thoughts...
Series No. 1 -- 30 Pieces of Silver
In an alternate world and parallel universe, the female prophet came to the world, and failed in her task. She surrendered herself to the desires of her flesh. Though incarnate, she had the yearns and needs of a woman. So she yielded to the urges of her flesh. Her disciples were lustful, and followed her for her flesh - not for her acts or miracles. She knew this. In truth, she herself saw little purpose in her words save to garner more men to look at her divine body. She preached and spoke to the masses, and did good deeds when she could. But more often than not, she traveled around the land with her cadre of disciples seeking the pleasures of one day, then again the next.
But the more and more the female prophet traveled across the land, more and more came the nagging and dreaded feeling that she was forsaking her holy task. She knew her mission and she knew her lot. She was supposed to be chaste, and save the creatures of this world through her own sacrifice - her death. But she dreaded it. She knew it was her divined fate, but she did not want it to be so. She would put it out of her mind by engaging in food and drink with her men. Then, pleasures of the flesh.
On and on she went. Moving from one town to another, depending upon the grace of her hosts to feed her and her disciples, then to give them shelter. But the longer she avoided her divine fate, the more it haunted her. She knew the time was fast approaching. The time wherein her body and flesh would be sacrificed for this world. She would lay awake at night, thinking of what the next day would hold. Her mind would begin to fear. She feared death. She was divine, but human. As such, she feared death and its pains. She would breath slowly, so as not to wake her followers. All that she could do to alleviate the worries was to indulge herself in her flesh. She would take both of her hands, and massage and grope herself. She was well-endowed, and there was quite a lot to grope.
She would breath in, and out slowly. Her hands squeezed her own breasts. Then, she would caress her hardened nipples and pinch them. She would bite her lower lip and she began to feel the blood rushing to her feminine parts. 'How could she leave this behind?' She would think to herself. Her body was perfect. The acme of the feminine being. 'Why would she sacrifice this?'
Many days, many months passed while she would do thusly. Each time, she strayed further and further from her holy charge. Years passed, and when had 27 years of age, all events seemed to quicken their pace.
The time came for her to face her final trial. One her her angelic servants had come to her in a dream, and said that the time had come for her to sacrifice all for the sake of lesser beings. It was time for her to give her life over and surrender herself to death. Death by crucifixion.
She woke from the dream in a cold sweat breathing heavily. She could not endure what was asked of her - she did not want to. She refused to give her life over for the salvation of lesser beings that she cared little for. So the night before her passion was to start, in the midst of her weakness, the female prophet lent herself to the needs of her flesh with one of her disciples. After vigorous and deep pleasure in her being, she was braiding her hair while her disciples slept. The beads of sweat had dried upon her skin. As she weaved her hands through her lush hair, a serpent slithered it's way through the floor and harmlessly around the sleeping bodies of her disciples. It stopped before her, and coiled itself defensively.
She knew what it meant. Were she to crush it's head, she would be forced to go through with her fate to save all the world with her death. Were she to refuse to crush it's head, she would divorce herself from her creator. The separation would be complete. She looked at the serpent as it's beady eyes looked right back at her. Then she turned to her closest and most cherished disciple. She watched his handsome face as he slept. She could not leave him. She could not bring herself to crush the head of the serpent. She turned back to the snake, and she whispered "I accept."
Just then soldiers burst into the homestead where they were, and they seized her. She was sold to the judges of men for thirty pieces of silver.
The serpent whose head she was meant to crush with her heel now wrought itself sinfully around her flesh, and her fate was sealed. Never before had evil been so delighted. The divine being would abandon her, his flesh. She was to be crucified, and soon she would meet her death. Thereafter, her divine yet human soul would reside forever in the clutches of evil in hell. She would be abandoned forever to torment and agony.
The female prophet was crucified.
The nails in her flesh were brutally painful. The hammer that had driven them there was merciless.
She writhed in an unimaginable pain while she hung from her cross - her throne. But her pain was not the worst. She knew that she had forsaken her creator's holy charge, so her creator would forsake her. Her soul was to descend into hell, forever in the clutches of evil where it awaited eternal agony and endless suffering.
My anxious, apprehensive, and fearful thoughts wake me each and every day. Here I try to unleash my thoughts...
Series No. 1 -- 30 Pieces of Silver
In an alternate world and parallel universe, the female prophet came to the world, and failed in her task. She surrendered herself to the desires of her flesh. Though incarnate, she had the yearns and needs of a woman. So she yielded to the urges of her flesh. Her disciples were lustful, and followed her for her flesh - not for her acts or miracles. She knew this. In truth, she herself saw little purpose in her words save to garner more men to look at her divine body. She preached and spoke to the masses, and did good deeds when she could. But more often than not, she traveled around the land with her cadre of disciples seeking the pleasures of one day, then again the next.
But the more and more the female prophet traveled across the land, more and more came the nagging and dreaded feeling that she was forsaking her holy task. She knew her mission and she knew her lot. She was supposed to be chaste, and save the creatures of this world through her own sacrifice - her death. But she dreaded it. She knew it was her divined fate, but she did not want it to be so. She would put it out of her mind by engaging in food and drink with her men. Then, pleasures of the flesh.
On and on she went. Moving from one town to another, depending upon the grace of her hosts to feed her and her disciples, then to give them shelter. But the longer she avoided her divine fate, the more it haunted her. She knew the time was fast approaching. The time wherein her body and flesh would be sacrificed for this world. She would lay awake at night, thinking of what the next day would hold. Her mind would begin to fear. She feared death. She was divine, but human. As such, she feared death and its pains. She would breath slowly, so as not to wake her followers. All that she could do to alleviate the worries was to indulge herself in her flesh. She would take both of her hands, and massage and grope herself. She was well-endowed, and there was quite a lot to grope.
She would breath in, and out slowly. Her hands squeezed her own breasts. Then, she would caress her hardened nipples and pinch them. She would bite her lower lip and she began to feel the blood rushing to her feminine parts. 'How could she leave this behind?' She would think to herself. Her body was perfect. The acme of the feminine being. 'Why would she sacrifice this?'
Many days, many months passed while she would do thusly. Each time, she strayed further and further from her holy charge. Years passed, and when had 27 years of age, all events seemed to quicken their pace.
The time came for her to face her final trial. One her her angelic servants had come to her in a dream, and said that the time had come for her to sacrifice all for the sake of lesser beings. It was time for her to give her life over and surrender herself to death. Death by crucifixion.
She woke from the dream in a cold sweat breathing heavily. She could not endure what was asked of her - she did not want to. She refused to give her life over for the salvation of lesser beings that she cared little for. So the night before her passion was to start, in the midst of her weakness, the female prophet lent herself to the needs of her flesh with one of her disciples. After vigorous and deep pleasure in her being, she was braiding her hair while her disciples slept. The beads of sweat had dried upon her skin. As she weaved her hands through her lush hair, a serpent slithered it's way through the floor and harmlessly around the sleeping bodies of her disciples. It stopped before her, and coiled itself defensively.
She knew what it meant. Were she to crush it's head, she would be forced to go through with her fate to save all the world with her death. Were she to refuse to crush it's head, she would divorce herself from her creator. The separation would be complete. She looked at the serpent as it's beady eyes looked right back at her. Then she turned to her closest and most cherished disciple. She watched his handsome face as he slept. She could not leave him. She could not bring herself to crush the head of the serpent. She turned back to the snake, and she whispered "I accept."
Just then soldiers burst into the homestead where they were, and they seized her. She was sold to the judges of men for thirty pieces of silver.
The serpent whose head she was meant to crush with her heel now wrought itself sinfully around her flesh, and her fate was sealed. Never before had evil been so delighted. The divine being would abandon her, his flesh. She was to be crucified, and soon she would meet her death. Thereafter, her divine yet human soul would reside forever in the clutches of evil in hell. She would be abandoned forever to torment and agony.
The female prophet was crucified.
The nails in her flesh were brutally painful. The hammer that had driven them there was merciless.
She writhed in an unimaginable pain while she hung from her cross - her throne. But her pain was not the worst. She knew that she had forsaken her creator's holy charge, so her creator would forsake her. Her soul was to descend into hell, forever in the clutches of evil where it awaited eternal agony and endless suffering.
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