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Gods' Edicts Part III - The Crucifixion of High Priestess Vera

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Illara

Illara

Governor
The Execution of High Priestess Vera



Note: This story is a fantasy. Nothing more.



Chapter 1 – The Discovery

King Titus was in his pleasure chambers, being sexually serviced by a number of slave girls. A pair worked his massive cock with their mouths, another pair were on either side of him massaging his chest with their breasts, and a fifth girl was rubbing his temples and his head. He was in blissful ecstasy. It was good to be King. Even though he had recently had to deal with treason, from within his own family. Damning documents had been given to him, and his daughters, the princesses, were shown to be traitors seeking to usurp his throne.

He had them promptly and publicly crucified, as all traitors should be. He could not tolerate betrayal, even from his own kin. It had been a number of weeks since their execution in the city center. Negotiations on a trade deal with the nearby nation of Ulra were progressing to his liking. Things were good.

There was a nervous knock on the door of his pleasure chambers. He ignored it. The slave girls pleasuring him did not cease their glorious work.

The knock was repeated. Now the King was angry.

“Cease.” He ordered the slave girl. They nodded obediently and stepped away from him, keeping their eyes down to the floor and their hands clasped behind their backs.

The King stood, his massive penis fully erect. He strode over to the door and opened it. A junior advisor stood there, looking appropriately nervous as interrupting the King’s pleasure activities.

“What?” The King demanded sternly.

“Sire, I am deeply sorry to interrupt you, but I—”

“Get to it swiftly or suffer my wrath.” The King said with deadly steel in his voice.

“I have uncovered evidence that your daughter’s were framed for treason.”

The King did a double take. “Elaborate.” He ordered as he noticed his heart begin to beat faster.

“The last few weeks I was tasked with further investigating their treason, to root out any other collaborators. I found that the documents and evidence against them was planted. It appears that,” the advisor gulped. “It appears that High Priestess Vera was behind it, from what I can tell.”

The King’s hands balled into fists. “I knew that fucking cunt wanted the throne.” He hissed. “I knew it. Have her arrested. Immediately.”

“Yes, your highness.”



High Priestess Vera was in the Citadel of High Purity, the city’s largest temple. Her temple. Where the Gods were venerated, and Vera consolidated her power and might. Clad in a white, form fitting tunic, with no adornments besides golden bracelets and a silver tiara, she was in the middle of conducting a rather simple ritual to honor the Gods.

She was a lovely woman, and as High Priestess, many who beheld her wanted to emulate her immaculate beauty. She was 5’3” and very lean, with a well-endowed bosom. Her breasts were 34DD and her skin was tan. She had lovely black hair and green eyes and a smile that was regal and charming and commanded loyalty from the hundreds of priestesses that served under her oversight.

For this particular ritual to the Gods, a young priestess who had performed poorly in her duties was being punished. Her suffering would gladden the Gods and bring good luck and holy blessings unto the Kingdom. The junior priestess, who was just eighteen or nineteen (Vera neither remembered nor cared her age), had been stripped down to nothing but a slave’s loincloth, and was tied with her hands over her head, her shackles hanging from a fixture in the stone ceiling of the temple. Her perky breasts were heaving with trepidation at the coming punishment of one hundred lashes.

High Priestess Vera had just finished reading a hymn from the Sacred Texts and the anointed soldier was about to proceed with the whipping, when the door to the ritual chamber opened and nearly twenty soldiers entered.

“What is the meaning of this?” Vera snapped at them, annoyed that she was being interrupted. She was about to relish this girl’s screams of pain. How dare these morons interrupt her ritual!

“You are under arrest.” The lead soldier said. The golden chevrons on his shoulder pauldrons marked him as a commanding officer.

The color drained from the High Priestess’s face. Have they discovered my treason? How!? She blurted out the first excuse that came to her mind. “But this delinquent slave must be punished.”

“Have another priestess oversee it. You are under arrest for treason.” The soldiers stepped forward.

High Priestess Vera exhaled with realization that it was over. She had played the game of power too ambitiously and she had lost. She was surprisingly calm as the soldiers grabbed her hands and shackled them behind her back.

As they walked her out of the temple, she wondered how much the King had discovered.

But really, it did not matter. If he knew she had been treasonous…

Then she would suffer the cross.
 
Illara said:
High Priestess Vera had just finished reading a hymn from the Sacred Texts and the anointed soldier was about to proceed with the whipping, when the door to the ritual chamber opened and nearly twenty soldiers entered.
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Awwww, ma-a-a-annn! Lousy timing, couldn’t they have burst in after the hundredth lash instead of before the first?

Great start!
 
Amazing sequel!
 
Chapter 2 – The Dungeons

Vera (she assumed that she was no longer High Priestess) was marched through the city, from the Citadel of High Purity all the way to the King’s Palace. The soldiers surrounding her made it difficult for anyone to see, so she was relatively unembarrassed about being led in shackles through the streets. Her mind raced, though. Will I be marched naked through these streets? How soon until I am crucified?



Unlike many who met the insurmountable suffering and humiliation of the cross, Vera knew exactly what tortures and rituals were coming. She had presided over countless executions, in her capacity as High Priestess, and in recent months she had even begun having slave girls or inadequate priestesses crucified in her personal chambers. She found the sight and sounds of their suffering pleasurable in a sick way.

But now that it would be her squirming for dear life on the cross…



The dungeons were a far cry from the opulent accommodations she had grown used to as High Priestess. Her cell was a simple room with stone walls and bars on one side. As she was marched inside, she wondered where she was meant to sleep. There was no cot or blanket or anything for her. Then her shackles were removed, and her hands were tied at the wrist with strong ropes in front of her and it clicked in her mind, she would be strung up while she awaited her fate.

Indeed, a hook was lowered from a fixture in the ceiling and, just as an hour ago they had done to the delinquent priestess in the temple, Vera’s bound hands were raised up above her head and she hung there, standing upright and wishing they would bring her before the King already so she could know what he knew or what her exact fate would be.



But the night passed, and Vera fell asleep in the uncomfortable position. She had no idea what time it was when she was woken up by the scraping of metal as her cell door was opened. Palace guards came in, there were five of them, and they lowered the hook holding her arms up and grabbed her firmly by her biceps. She was marched out into the stone corridors.

As they walked, they passed the stairway that led up into the palace. So I am not going before the King she thought. Am I being marched to my crucifixion right now!?

Her question was answered when she was marched into the large chamber where traitors were stripped and prepared for the march to the city center where they would be crucified. The odd calmness she had possessed since she was arrested shattered. She was not able to accept that this was happening. She shrank back and squirmed but the guards holding her were far stronger than she was.

“No! No! I am High Priestess of the Gods! If you—”

“Silence, traitor!” A soldier commanded her sternly. “Every word you speak will earn you more torture.”

She gulped. She knew that he was right, and that any words of protest she uttered to these guards would simply earn her more degradation and pain before her death. Her mind reeled at the concept of her own mortality. And the coming suffering.

The agonized faces of every woman she had watched crucified in her time as High Priestess flashed through her mind, and she pictured herself up there, naked and stretched and hurting all over. It was more than she could bear. She wanted to scream, but knew that that would draw the guards’ fury, so she was silent, but trembling, as they marched her up onto the wheeled wooden platform that would take her to the stage of her execution.

These are my final hours she thought. Her face flushed bright red at the realization. Her bound hands were once again raised up above her head, this time the hook holding her bindings was pulled tight so that she was on her tiptoes and her body was stretched tight. She felt her back pop slightly. It felt good but then the strain of the position began to percolate in her shoulders and arms.

Plus, she knew what horrors awaited her. This was just the beginning.
 
Chapter 3 – Stripping

Once she was stretched vertically, the guards stepped back and looked her up and down. They were eager to see her naked body. She saw the lust in their eyes, and it repulsed her. She was an acolyte of the Gods and these were but puny, insignificant palace guards. But her indignation faltered and she remembered that she was no longer a person of any value or prestige. She was a condemned traitor. And she was going to suffer every indignation imaginable.

Vera had joined the Sisters of Suffering as a Priestess the day that she came of age. She had been a dutiful Priestess since then, rising through the ranks and achieving the top position of High Priestess in a short number of years. As such, she had obeyed the Sacred Texts and the Gods’ Edicts, to a fault, and had never allowed herself to be unclothed, and had never taken on a lover.

She had seen so many women forcibly lose their virginity before execution. She was dreading having hers taken from her.

An officer of the guard stepped forward. He would be the commander of the current unit on watch, and it was his duty to oversee this phase of her elaborate execution. He handed his steel helmet to a subordinate, and then approached her.

Vera clenched her jaw and looked him in the eyes. She was trying to radiate a sense of power. Of authority. But he looked back at her with complete apathy. In that moment she knew; all of her political and religious power and authority was completely gone. She would leverage no mercy from anyone.

The guard grabbed the hems of her tight white tunic and stripped it from her roughly. Her perfectly round 34DD breasts spilled out, her nipples hard and protruding from the soft, supple skin of her plump tits. Stretched so tall, her ribs were pressed against her soft, tan skin, and her fit stomach was concave, over her lean hips and tight womanhood. Her ass was round and firm, and her legs were lean and toned. Her skin was perfect, she tended to it religiously, and it was soft and smooth and without blemish.

She blushed at her nudity before the staring guards. She felt their eyes roaming over her vulnerable body and she could do nothing to hinder them. The felt violated like never before. She noticed how her breasts expanded, rose, and then fell with each nervous breath. How mortifyingly embarrassing she thought, as beads of panicked sweat beaded on her brow.

The moment stretched on as the guards ogled her. Erect penises fought against the bounds of the men’s pants. But then they had to proceed with the execution. All of the guards were excited to see her on display on the cross.

They stepped down from the wooden platform that Vera was strung up on, and a line of slave girls were brought in. Slave garb was designed to humiliate, each girl wore a simple rectangular cloth tied around their waist to cover their ass and vagina, and then a leather belt 2.5cm wide was strapped around their chests, covering their nipples (in some of the women’s cases, not entirely covering their areolas) and pushing their breasts against their bodies. This put their chests mostly on display in a way that humiliated and objectified them, as all slaves should be.

The line of a dozen slave girls was led into the chamber, each slave affixed to the next with a chain wrapped around a leather collar on their necks. Three had to be selected, stripped, and tied to the crossbeams linked to Vera’s platform so that they could drag her to the place of her execution.

The officer of the guard who had stripped Vera selected the three slave girls with the biggest, most voluptuous breasts to participate in her execution. They wanted a good show of dangling tits while the three slave girls labored to pull Vera through the streets to the city center.

Each of the three slave girls looked to be around the age of nineteen or twenty. One was blonde with blue eyes and a stunning set of round breasts with large, salacious pink nipples. Another was a brunette with short, shoulder length hair and massive breasts tipped with perfectly round nipples. The third was also a brunette, with longer hair and luscious breasts that spanned her wide chest and dangled side to side as she was stripped.

As each slave girl was stripped nude and walked over to a crossbeam, Vera looked the naked girls over and sighed. She was not embarrassed at their nudity nor sympathetic to their coming suffering. No, as each was tied to a crossbeam, their arms stretched wide and their heaving breasts jutting forward, Vera felt crestfallen that each slave looked healthy and well nourished. They would last long on the crosses, which meant that she would be tortured for longer before she was finally crucified.

“Fuck.” She whispered as a bead of sweat ran down her chest and crested her right breast. This was going to be an absolute nightmare.
 
Chapter 4 – Procession

With all three busty slave girls tied tightly to the crossbeams that were tied to Vera’s platform, she was ready to be pulled through the streets to the city center, where she would die. After much torture. She imagined that the King’s wrath would be great, for she had deceived him into crucifying his own daughters weeks ago. She was in for an especially painful execution, she reckoned.

As the doors to the chamber were opened and sunlight flooded in, making the torches on the walls unnecessary, the slave girls’ plump backsides were whipped by a soldier and they began to strain their bodies forward, leaning and heaving and pulling the crossbeams strapped across their shoulders. The wheels on her platform began to turn and Vera’s breasts bounced as the platform jolted forward and began to roll.

Feeling the weight of her unsupported breasts as the platform bounced here and there, Vera wondered how much more painful things would be once she was crucified. She wanted to scream out in protest at the thought.

But then shame overrode her mind. For she was completely naked and on display, and people walking the city streets made way for the procession and stared and leered and drooled at her nudity as she was pulled past them. She hated those people, not only for their degradation of her but out of envy as well, for they would get to live another day and not have to suffer the agony of the cross.

She wished the procession would end. Her face was hot from blushing in humiliation and her feet ached from being on her tiptoes and her breasts were bouncing with every jolt of the wheels on the platform. The slave girls pulling her let out occasional groans or cries of exhaustion, but the crack of a whip spurred them on.

“Go faster you worthless slaves.” She whispered as she trembled in shame.

They finally came within sight of the city center. The stage where the vertical beams of the crosses were kept loomed at the center, surrounded by a large crowd. It was not as large as the multitude that had gathered to see the princesses executed, but it was still hundreds, if not thousands, of people. All here to watch me tortured and executed she thought grimly. Her mind struggled to accept her coming fate, to come to grips with the fact that she was going to die. She was still in some denial. It could not be real she screamed internally!

The crowd cheered as her platform approached. They sure love when a fit woman is to be crucified she thought bitterly. As they got closer to the stage, she saw guards bring out an elaborate chair. No doubt, for the King. And a naked girl was marched up from the rear of the stage, her hands bound behind her back. She had big, fearful brown eyes and perky breasts filling out a petite frame. She was knelt down on her knees and tied with a rope around her neck to a stake in the stage near the stairs on the backside. She would be the one who would clean the executioner’s men’s cocks with her mouth after they finished fucking Vera and the other slave girls that were part of the execution. Part of the ritual. Part of the show.

Vera smiled for a moment as the frightened slave girl looked around. She is probably wondering why she has been stripped and brought onto the stage, Vera thought, clinging desperately to her old mindset of power and superiority. Wondering what is going to happen. If ritual is being followed, then she has no idea that once I am dead, she too will be crucified.

Once I am dead. Her mind reeled anew at the concept of her own death. This cannot be happening! She squirmed against the ropes tied to her wrists, but she could barely wriggle since she was pulled so tight. All it did was make her plump breasts jiggle and bounce more. She leaned her head back and groaned. It was all in vain.

The slave girls pulled Vera’s platform up so it was adjacent to the stage. Guards came over and untied the crossbeams from the platform, and the three slave girls (breasts heaving and now drenched in sweat), were marched up to the stage.

Once there, they were each guided to one of the three large wooden beams laying horizontally on the stage. They straddled the wood and were leaned back, so that the crossbeam rested on the wood. They were guided in to a locking mechanism on the wood beams so that the crossbeams were secured in place and the crosses were formed in their finished t shape. The naked slaves gulped desperately for air and lay motionless against the wooden implements of their own deaths.

That will be me, soon enough, Vera thought, looking at the slave with massive tits on the center cross. She gulped in fear.

Guards came over and lowered Vera so that she was able to stand with her feet flat on the platform. Her hands were lowered, and untied, and then retied behind her back. The rope was tied higher up on her forearms, to bring her elbows closer together and make her ample chest stick out.

Utterly humiliated and trembling with fear at her coming execution, Vera was marched onto the stage and led to the center front of the stage. Standing before the crowd, naked and mortified, she blushed and gulped and looked out across those who had come to witness her death.

Their eyes shifted and they began to roar in applause. She turned her head. The King had arrived.
 
Mmmm, is the hottest thing of all the innocent slaves who are crucified to add to the spectacle? Imagine being such a slave, randomly chosen for crucifixion with no blame? Or is it the one who is tied to her knees for cock-cleaning duty- thinking it a torment but thanking the Ghods she is not on the cross, the sheer cruelty of her fate in the end is especially intoxicating… I like this pitiless fantasy realm!
 
Loinclothslave said:
Mmmm, is the hottest thing of all the innocent slaves who are crucified to add to the spectacle? Imagine being such a slave, randomly chosen for crucifixion with no blame? Or is it the one who is tied to her knees for cock-cleaning duty- thinking it a torment but thanking the Ghods she is not on the cross, the sheer cruelty of her fate in the end is especially intoxicating… I like this pitiless fantasy realm!
Click to expand...
Thanks so much! I’m honored to bring this arousing brutal fantasy realm to life thank you :)
 
Illara said:
Chapter 4 – Procession

With all three busty slave girls tied tightly to the crossbeams that were tied to Vera’s platform, she was ready to be pulled through the streets to the city center, where she would die. After much torture. She imagined that the King’s wrath would be great, for she had deceived him into crucifying his own daughters weeks ago. She was in for an especially painful execution, she reckoned.

As the doors to the chamber were opened and sunlight flooded in, making the torches on the walls unnecessary, the slave girls’ plump backsides were whipped by a soldier and they began to strain their bodies forward, leaning and heaving and pulling the crossbeams strapped across their shoulders. The wheels on her platform began to turn and Vera’s breasts bounced as the platform jolted forward and began to roll.

Feeling the weight of her unsupported breasts as the platform bounced here and there, Vera wondered how much more painful things would be once she was crucified. She wanted to scream out in protest at the thought.

But then shame overrode her mind. For she was completely naked and on display, and people walking the city streets made way for the procession and stared and leered and drooled at her nudity as she was pulled past them. She hated those people, not only for their degradation of her but out of envy as well, for they would get to live another day and not have to suffer the agony of the cross.

She wished the procession would end. Her face was hot from blushing in humiliation and her feet ached from being on her tiptoes and her breasts were bouncing with every jolt of the wheels on the platform. The slave girls pulling her let out occasional groans or cries of exhaustion, but the crack of a whip spurred them on.

“Go faster you worthless slaves.” She whispered as she trembled in shame.

They finally came within sight of the city center. The stage where the vertical beams of the crosses were kept loomed at the center, surrounded by a large crowd. It was not as large as the multitude that had gathered to see the princesses executed, but it was still hundreds, if not thousands, of people. All here to watch me tortured and executed she thought grimly. Her mind struggled to accept her coming fate, to come to grips with the fact that she was going to die. She was still in some denial. It could not be real she screamed internally!

The crowd cheered as her platform approached. They sure love when a fit woman is to be crucified she thought bitterly. As they got closer to the stage, she saw guards bring out an elaborate chair. No doubt, for the King. And a naked girl was marched up from the rear of the stage, her hands bound behind her back. She had big, fearful brown eyes and perky breasts filling out a petite frame. She was knelt down on her knees and tied with a rope around her neck to a stake in the stage near the stairs on the backside. She would be the one who would clean the executioner’s men’s cocks with her mouth after they finished fucking Vera and the other slave girls that were part of the execution. Part of the ritual. Part of the show.

Vera smiled for a moment as the frightened slave girl looked around. She is probably wondering why she has been stripped and brought onto the stage, Vera thought, clinging desperately to her old mindset of power and superiority. Wondering what is going to happen. If ritual is being followed, then she has no idea that once I am dead, she too will be crucified.

Once I am dead. Her mind reeled anew at the concept of her own death. This cannot be happening! She squirmed against the ropes tied to her wrists, but she could barely wriggle since she was pulled so tight. All it did was make her plump breasts jiggle and bounce more. She leaned her head back and groaned. It was all in vain.

The slave girls pulled Vera’s platform up so it was adjacent to the stage. Guards came over and untied the crossbeams from the platform, and the three slave girls (breasts heaving and now drenched in sweat), were marched up to the stage.

Once there, they were each guided to one of the three large wooden beams laying horizontally on the stage. They straddled the wood and were leaned back, so that the crossbeam rested on the wood. They were guided in to a locking mechanism on the wood beams so that the crossbeams were secured in place and the crosses were formed in their finished t shape. The naked slaves gulped desperately for air and lay motionless against the wooden implements of their own deaths.

That will be me, soon enough, Vera thought, looking at the slave with massive tits on the center cross. She gulped in fear.

Guards came over and lowered Vera so that she was able to stand with her feet flat on the platform. Her hands were lowered, and untied, and then retied behind her back. The rope was tied higher up on her forearms, to bring her elbows closer together and make her ample chest stick out.

Utterly humiliated and trembling with fear at her coming execution, Vera was marched onto the stage and led to the center front of the stage. Standing before the crowd, naked and mortified, she blushed and gulped and looked out across those who had come to witness her death.

Their eyes shifted and they began to roar in applause. She turned her head. The King had arrived.
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Amazing work.
 
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