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Flogged to Death

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The Beast said:
Both stories are interesting but they are starting to run away from the topic subject too much. Don't make too many side threads from the flogging procedure;). Life is too short for it.
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I don't think it is a side story. I alternate the progress of the sentence with the backstory - how and why did these women get there? Seen from Milena's viewpoint, since she is the last in line, and watches the terror coming closer and closer. While her companions are flogged one by one, she plays back in her head the back story. And I think, the connection with the thread title has been revealed in my last episode.
 
The Beast said:
Both stories are interesting but they are starting to run away from the topic subject too much. Don't make too many side threads from the flogging procedure;). Life is too short for it.
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Beggars can't be choosers. You asked for stories and are getting them, LOL;)

But I do beg the indulgence of the readers here. I usually take weeks putting together a story and then re-read and re-write many times (if only to catch some of my multiple typos). I foolishly accepted the challenge here with no plan as to how I would meet it. I am frantically trying to churn out a chapter every couple of days from the top of my head, with absolutely no backup in store.:icon_pc: Please be patient. That being said, here is one more chapter. And don't fear, @The Beast , next chapter the flogging will begin (I think).:confused:

Chapter Five

The two soldiers were somewhat surprised to see the large crowd that had already gathered in the marketplace around the raised punishment platform. Word of the sentence imposed in the young and beautiful woman was part of the reason. In addition, many had heard of the skill and cruelty of these two men and wish to savor it in person.

There was already a large contingent of guards surrounding the platform and ringing the square. The Governor had planned for a large crowd. And he was also determined that there be no attempt by local Silureans to rescue their rebel leader.

When Decius and Maximus mounted the stair at the back and came to the center of the platform, there was a scattering of applause and cheering by the Romans in the crowd. The two were a bit embarrassed at their unexpected celebrity, but went seriously about their work. They examined with approval the weapons that the guards had laid out: multi-strand floggers with various enhancements of knots, lead ball and even wire; single-tail whips including very narrow ones made for cutting skin; and heavy leather belt-floggers to cause bruising impact as well as surface pain. Laid to one side was their special tool, which they called Claudia, after the first victim who had felt its bite.

The post itself had been set up as Decius had specified. A massive vertical post, with a horizontal beam stretching five feet forward from the top and well braced. A sturdy iron ring on the front of that beam, matched by two widely separated on the platform below, would do nicely to secure their victim.

Decius looked at the sundial on the military warehouse. The 9th hour was almost half past; less than four hours remained of daylight remained. He had no worry about time. He had learned that the summer in these wretched Northern climes had incredibly long days. The time remaining to dusk was probably more like 6 hours at the equinox. Nevertheless, he wanted to get the show started. He sent one guard back to the courtyard to instruct the men to bring Iatta out to meet her fate.

A few minutes later, the gate to the courtyard opened and the would-be princess, aspiring rebel-leader, emerged, naked to the waist, her torn blue dress hastily re-gathered around her hips. Even worn and damaged from the multiple rapes, the daughter of a chief walked with some semblance of dignity, head high. But with her arms bound behind her and her face and breasts prominently coated with semen, she presented more the look of a cheap whore.

Eight soldiers on a side marched in line beside her to clear a way through the crowd. One more led her by a rough noose tied round her delicate neck, while another followed her with a sharp pilum to jab at her buttocks and urge her along.

The crowd erupted in shouts and jeers, as the hated leader of a revolt that could have led to their deaths, was marched toward her fate. Some, mostly local tribe’s people, remained silent as even a few tears flowed down cheeks in sympathy for this girl being sacrificed to their desire for freedom from their Roman oppressors.
 
Loxuru said:
I don't think it is a side story. I alternate the progress of the sentence with the backstory - how and why did these women get there? Seen from Milena's viewpoint, since she is the last in line, and watches the terror coming closer and closer. While her companions are flogged one by one, she plays back in her head the back story. And I think, the connection with the thread title has been revealed in my last episode.
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You made a good backstory. I like very much the judge's speech. This kind moral education in ancient times are always useful. But I'm afraid the second pause during the flogging - Milena analisis about pain, suffering, girls future, life and other superflous details.
 
1848 – Aftermath of the rebellion (7).
Temesvar, Kingdom of Hungary, August 1848.

“Negyven!”

When the bucket of water was thrown over her, Danica shivered up once more, and shouted as if it was yet another lash.

“Danica!? Are you all right!?”
“I am OK!” Danica said with a painful sigh.

People were surrounding Milena’s rack. Soldiers were making arrangements about the order they would take for her flogging.

“Esküszünk, hogy rabok tovább, Nem leszünk!” Milena said, in a last bid for strengthening her own courage. “We swear we shall never be slaves again!” another line from Sandór!

There was only laughter around her, only Danica, through her pain, uttered her approval.

It was not Milena’s first corporal punishment. She had already been punished earlier in her life. Punished for reading and studying! In the Banat region, a peasant woman is not supposed to be literate, leave to study. It is a waste of time! Of the landowner’s time! It is theft of the landowner’s time!

Milena had always tried to react to these punishments with defiance. She always had fought for not showing pain! At the beginning, when they had recited their last words of protest, she had determined that she would try to fight pain on this occasion too! But the reactions of Mari, Soleena and Danica, had made her clear that this punishment was of a completely different order of magnitude!

“Egy!”

When she heard the ‘woosh’ of the whip coming down, she stretched her muscles, pressed her teeth together, in a last attempt of resistance..
The clacking of the whip was on her thighs, on her own body now! And the loud outcry of pain was hers too! So terrible was the pain, that she could not stop herself shouting from the first lash! It was glowing iron wire, and it burned terribly, into her, spreading intense fire over all her body! And neither the pain, nor the urge to cry seemed to subside! With one blow, all her defiance had been shattered!

Not giving up yet! She grabbed all the air she had left in her lungs!

“You shall… never… burn our spirits!”

“Kettó!”
The glowing iron fell again, on her back! The burn spread over her skin, through her muscles, over all her body! Vented out by a long shriek!

“Your… own .. fire.. will.. destroy you!”

“Három!”

On her shoulders! The air was violently forced out of her lungs. She gasped to air, in panic. Finally, she could breathe in, then with a howl, breathe out. The time between the lashes allowed her at last to regain strength.
“Még kér a nép, most adjatok neki!”

“Négy!”

On her waist! Like a hot iron wire. She shrieked!
“People!.. Get up and don't ask, take it!”

“Öt!”

On her ribcage. Again the air was flushed out of her lungs.

“Hat!”

Another intense outcry of pain! She had no more the strength to be defiant.

“Hét!”

“Nyolc!”

“Kilenc!”

“Tíz!”

The strokes followed with the usual slow pace. Milena’s back was on fire meanwhile! All she could think of, was fighting the intense pain, and fearing the next stroke.

(…)

“Negyven!”

Forty! At last!
A bucket of cold water was thrown over Milena’s body… It came down like a cold iron, opening all her welts. When the water dripped off her body, it finally seemed to take away a little bit of the burning pain.

The first round had ended. Milena felt as if she had made a run through hell. From her neck to her knees, there was only burning pain. She sweated, breathed deeply, trembled over all her body. They were given some water to drink. A sections of soldiers marched off, the next one arrived.

Soon everything was prepared for the next round of forty.
“Let’s start with forty-one to eighty!”

When the orders were given, all four women uttered their despair. Not again! But there was no mercy. The floggers moved back to Mari’s rack.

(to be continued)
 
Chapter Six

When Iatta was brought to the front of the platform under the scaffold, to face the crowd, the jeers erupted far louder than before. The sight of the half-nude and bound young woman, a pretty face, slim neck, high, modest breasts, very narrow waist and hips flaring to a promised treasure still hidden by the precariously attached dress, was highly erotic. Men cried out for her humiliation and torture from sadist lust; women demanded the same from catty jealousy (and also some with lust).

Decius told the guards how he wanted her arranged and then he and Gaius went to the side to finalize their plans.

The soldiers untied her hands and drew a sturdy rope through the scaffold’s iron ring and tied a tight knot on her slim wrists. Short lengths of rope were attached to her ankles and then drawn to the platform rings and tied off. Her legs were forced wide with her feet three feet apart. The rope through the top ring was drawn tight, lifting her arms over her head and pulling her up onto the balls of her feet. With her thus stretched and exposed, the men tied off the rope snugly to the main post.

A more exposed and vulnerable pose was hard to imagine. But some of the men in the crowd grumbled that she wasn’t fully naked. Why did she still wear the dress? A few even voiced their dissatisfaction out loud. Decius and Gaius heard the comments and smiled. Soon enough, they thought.

Decius and Gaius stripped down to just their britches and low army boots (caligae). An immediate hush fell over the crowd as they saw Maximus bare-chested. Not a few of the women flushed with passion at the incredibly powerful torso. After a few moments, some of the more brazen women started voicing flirtatious, even obscene compliments. Maximus, holding a whip, strode to the front of the platform and took a deep bow. When he straightened up, he pointed to one of the prettier girls in the audience, winked, and pumped his hand in front of his crotch. She blushed bright red and the crowd exploded in laughter and cheers.

As the noise died down, Gaius walked over to where the girl was presented for her whipping. He ran the leather of the long, thin whip slowly through his left hand. Then , with a sudden turn, his strong arm rose and fell and he snapped the whip in the air toward the crowd with a loud “Crack!” The audience was stunned and burst into applause. For not only was Maximus huge and strong, but he could handle a whip with incredible accuracy.

A silence of anticipation fell over the people. Maximus walked to Iatta’s right side about five feet away from her. Without further delay, he drove the single tail to strike her left hip, wrap completely around her buttocks and back so the tip dug into her abdomen just inside her right hip. After a moment’s pause for her to gather her breath, the princess let loose a high, pained scream and the crowd saw a bright red welt with drops of blood appear on her middle, just above the dress. On her left side, the dress showed a long tear where the whip had cut. The precarious covering slipped down two inches.
 
1848 – Aftermath of the rebellion (8).
Temesvar, Kingdom of Hungary, August 1848.

“Negyvenegy!”

And so, the infernal cycle started again at the far end of the row. The whip came down again on Mari’s body.
Fresh troops had presented, to provide fresh strength to the whip, and Mari did had enough time to recover to utter her cries of pain again with a loud voice.

For Milena, it was again a seemingly endless time, of waiting and anticipation and witnessing the terror and watch it coming slowly towards again..

During this round, there was little strength in her mind left to reconsider. Only struggling with discomfort and the fighting against the pain and the terrifying fear that there was more to come, much more to add on what was already delivered.

“Nyolcvan!”

A bucket of water was thrown over Mari’s body again.
Soreena’s second round started. She started begging for mercy. Sobbing she said she could not bear another round. But mercy was not an option in the verdict.

“Negyvenegy!”

Soreena’s second round passed slowly. Milena heard her voice strongly weaken towards the end.

“Nyolcvan!”

A bucket of water over Soleena’s body. Soleena, who was now constantly moaning. The flogging party came to Danica.
When it was Danica’s turn, there were no more words of courage. Danica murmured of fear when they started. She lost control over her bladder when the executioner positioned behind her.

“Negyvenegy!”

Milena shrunk as she heard the whip coming down again on the woman next to her. Danica’s painful shrieks were deafening and more terrifying than ever!

But all she could do, was watch it. Milena cursed the terror in the cycling of the flogging. After one round, the fear was installed and the prospect of another round (combined with the waiting) was enough to chase away all what was left of courage and mental strength! This was worse than giving all the strokes consecutively!

Hours had passed since they had been tied to their racks. It had become warm. Thirst had joined Milena’s suffering. During the pauses, they got some water to drink, but that was not enough. The sun was burning on her skin, and worse, the warm breeze regularly created clouds of sandy dust, which added to the torments of her skin, being very sensitive by the tens of lashes and by sun burn.

“Nyolcvan!”

A bucket ow water was thrown over Danica’s back.

It was Milena’s turn again. She was engulfed by fear.
‘Not again’ went through her head!
Breathing heavily, she anticipated…

“Negyvenegy!”

(to be continued)
 
Loxuru you nicely describe how the haughtiness and courage of the girls are replaced by the fear of pain and punishment. It is always nice to read how the victim is broken step by step and lash by lash. It's just a pity that there are few descriptions of the body view. After 80 lashes (which tool is use on their backs?) should be many damages of the body and a lot of blood.

PP you're very malicious. The last sentence is probably just to not pick on the fact that there is no flogging yet;).
 
The Beast said:
PP you're very malicious. The last sentence is probably just to not pick on the fact that there is no flogging yet;).
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I said there would be blood in this episode; I didn't say how much. :rolleyes:
Please give me a break, I've written and posted three chapters in three days. I'm considering chucking it all in since I can't begin to keep up with the prodigious output of my sadistic Teutonic rival.
 
The Beast said:
Loxuru you nicely describe how the haughtiness and courage of the girls are replaced by the fear of pain and punishment. It is always nice to read how the victim is broken step by step and lash by lash. It's just a pity that there are few descriptions of the body view. After 80 lashes (which tool is use on their backs?) should be many damages of the body and a lot of blood.
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Patience! Patience!:popcorn:

Praefectus Praetorio said:
Please give me a break, I've written and posted three chapters in three days. I'm considering chucking it all in since I can't begin to keep up with the prodigious output of my sadistic Teutonic rival.
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Prodiguous? Sadistic? So far, this has only been the warming up!:firedevil:
 
Loxuru said:
Prodiguous? Sadistic? So far, this has only been the warming up!:firedevil:
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OK, that's it!

I surrender, halt, cease, renounce, capitulate, fall, knuckle under, submit, succumb, forswear, lose heart, lose courage, give in, abandon hope, despair of, abjure, stop fighting, cede, hand over, yield, throw in the towel, abandon, discontinue, drop, knock off, lay off of, pack up, pack in: I quit!
 
1848 – Aftermath of the rebellion (9).
Temesvar, Kingdom of Hungary, August 1848.

The second round felt like a hotter than hot iron. From the first stroke, Milena lost the last bit of strength and resistance that had been left in her. She heard herself howling of pain. The fresh strokes came down on those from the first round, seemingly doubling the new with the old pain. It was an endless torment. She wanted to ask to stop it, but she even had no more force to do it.

“Nyolcvan!”

Milena’s second round was finally over. She felt sick now. She had a terrible, headache, banging on the rhythm of her heart. Danica and Soreena had thrown up. All four had peed during this cycle. Soldiers made demeaning remarks about it. The crowd had clearly enjoyed their suffering. Milena, becoming aware again of her surroundings, spotted the crowd’s mocking and felt humiliated. They clearly had broken her. Her bravery had gone and she knew the people had noticed it. All four were hanging sobbing to their racks. Also because they knew it was not over yet.

A short pause, the troops were changed.

“We shall now give strokes eighty-one to hundred!”

For the third time, the cycle started, again with Mari. Mari started wailing, but in vain.

“Nyolcvanegy!”

Besides the terror of the cycling, another anxiety came up in Milena’s head : the prospect that (at least) one of them would not survive!
A terrible dilemma! Milena did not want her friends to die, but she was afraid to die to.

During the third round, the strokes were given at a much faster pace. Milena heard the strokes falling one by one. An interval of ten counts, had been said, but apparently, the floggers counted rather quickly. There was no more gradation in Mari’s crying and moaning. Before the impact of one stroke would fade away in her voice, the next one already fell.

This round went quick. And it came quickly closer : Soreena, Danica!

“Szás!”

Milena suddenly realized that Danica had stopped wailing, at the end of her round.
Danica was hanging limp on her rack! Was she dead!? Oh no, please! Went through Milena’s head. But there was this wicked detail of the verdict! If one would be dead, the flogging would stop at hundred. The doctor was taking care of Danica.
Milena had not time to be occupied with Danica. Regardless of Danica’s fate, she would receive her next round of twenty! The executioners had gathered around her. She shrunk of fear.
“No, please, no more!”
“Hang on, sweetheart! As yet, it was only a warming up!” the first soldier said.
“Nyolcvanegy!”

Twenty lashes, at a ‘quick’ pace! But ‘quick’ did not seem to last briefly! The soldier had been right. Before it had only been warming up. The glowing iron was now white hot, and she got no more pause to recover!

“Szás!”

Hundred! At last! Milena heard herself howling of pain! She had not stopped howling, from the first lash on, actually!

She tried to take rest, but the pain was so burning intensely, that she kept writhing, vainly attempting to scrub it off!

Milena looked left of her.
Danica had not died. She was conscious again. She moved her head slowly left to right, constantly uttering roars of pain.

“Danica!?”

Danica did not reply. She did seem to hear her.
Milena was relieved that Danica was still alive. They were all still alive, and that ‘good news’ had a terrible consequence : the flogging would continue!

“According to the verdict, the sentence will continue! Prepare for hundred and one to hundred twenty!”

“Szás egy!”

(to be continued)
 
worthless fem said:
Would you mind translating the Hungarian expressions, please? I speak German and French but not Hungarian I'm afraid.
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I like the counting in Hungarian in Luxoru story. It makes cold and rigid procedure of punishment which is delivered by army. It shouldn't be translated to english.

But in last chapters Luxoru gone to much in monotony. The flogging goes and goes but too fast and without details what happens with girls bodies, how they look like, how they react on lashes. After 100 lashes there should be judge and medical inspection to check how much they will hold. We should feel them suffering but I'm indifferent to that. No good.
 
worthless fem said:
Would you mind translating the Hungarian expressions, please? I speak German and French but not Hungarian I'm afraid.
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It is counting in Hungarian indeed. The numbers so far used are ::
Egy = one
Ketto = two
Harom = three
Negy = four
Ot = five
Hat = six
Het = seven
Nyolc = eight
Kilenc = nine
Tiz = ten

The tens are derived from the basic numbers :
Negyven = forty
Negyven egy = forty one
Nyolcvan = eighty
Nyolcvan = eighty one

Szas = hundred,
Szaz egy = hundred one

Higher numbers will be used, but, since it is a flogging to death, for not spoiling the story, I will not yet explain them.

I further intend to include a postscriptum of the story, explaining the source of inspiration, and its context.

The Beast said:
But in last chapters Luxoru gone to much in monotony. The flogging goes and goes but too fast and without details what happens with girls bodies, how they look like, how they react on lashes. After 100 lashes there should be judge and medical inspection to check how much they will hold. We should feel them suffering but I'm indifferent to that. No good.
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Thenks for your comments, The Best.
My viewpoint on this is, that monotony is somewhat proper to a flogging to death. You probably have noticed that I write the story from Milena's viewpoint, since she is last in the row, and sees it all coming closer, every cycle.
But even for her, it is a monotony of terror. The longer it takes, the narrower her world becomes, and the less she becomes aware of the fate of her companions. The number of strokes, now hundred, exceed largely the usual number os such a punishment. Her resistance has gone, Her nudity in public is no longer a matter for her. She hardly notices there is a crowd of onlookers. Her only concern is that the verdict orders that at least one of them will die. It creates double feelings in her mind, since on one hand, she does not want to die, but on the other hand, if she survives, then another one has died. So, she is relieved that Danica is not yet dead, but on the other hand, she is terrified, since more flogging will follow!

And about the check-up by a Judge or doctor, you suggest, after hundred, to see if they will hold, well, since it is flogging to death, so, whether they will hold or not, is no concern. The punishment must go on!

To conclude : this thread has started up discussing specifically the punishment of flogging to death. I am afraid, one of the inevitable aspects of such a punishment is monotony. One may die after only twenty or thirty strokes, others may endure over hundred or over two hundred. For the floggers, this must be an uncertain monotony, since they do not know when it stops. And for the condemned, it is the same, but at the receiving side, in a narrower and narrower world where there is only pain and more pain.

But, more to come!;)
 
Loxuru said:
To conclude : this thread has started up discussing specifically the punishment of flogging to death. I am afraid, one of the inevitable aspects of such a punishment is monotony. One may die after only twenty or thirty strokes, others may endure over hundred or over two hundred. For the floggers, this must be an uncertain monotony, since they do not know when it stops. And for the condemned, it is the same, but at the receiving side, in a narrower and narrower world where there is only pain and more pain.
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Good answer!
 
The Beast said:
I like the counting in Hungarian in Luxoru story. It makes cold and rigid procedure of punishment which is delivered by army. It shouldn't be translated to english.

But in last chapters Luxoru gone to much in monotony. The flogging goes and goes but too fast and without details what happens with girls bodies, how they look like, how they react on lashes. After 100 lashes there should be judge and medical inspection to check how much they will hold. We should feel them suffering but I'm indifferent to that. No good.
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I agreed that at certain intervals, more detailed descriptions of the girls reactions and appearances can enhance the readers' imaginations, but 400 lashes is not a small number and it ought to be monotonic.
 
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