At this point I'm going to take a break in the action and back up to the beginning of the story. In the first chapter, we are introduced to Sabina, how she came to be in Rome, a bit about her life as a slave, and where she is now, in a prison cell, anticipating with terror what they are about to do to her. All of that is told as a series of flashbacks from the opening scene, where we find her carrying her patibulum to her crucifixion.
Following that, there is a flashback to where she is chained to the whipping post naked, about to receive the first stroke of the whip.
And we are introduced to her domina, Julia Lepida, who is having Sabina crucified for striking her.
Then Sabina imagines what it will be like to be crucified:
I scream and struggle, trapped by powerful arms like iron that grip me tightly as I fight to keep the last rags that cover me from being torn away. My loincloth is all that is between me and slow, agonizing death. When I am naked, they will nail me to the cross.
I fight desperately, squeeze my legs together, anything to stave off my coming execution, but in a few heartbeats I am totally naked. I feel the eyes of the crowd on me, devouring my quivering breasts and exploring my sex.
My executioners savor my panic and draw out the moment, displaying me to the jeering crowd while they squeeze my breasts, pinch my nipples, and fondle my porcella. I want to tell them yes, take me, enjoy my body, do anything if it lets me avoid the torturing nails for a little longer, but my voice is paralyzed by fear and all that comes out is meaningless babble.
And then I scream as they push me back and down, down onto the timber that waits for me. I fight and kick, I scream at them to stop, but they are so strong and I am like a child in their grasp. They pin my arms to the timber, and then I feel the horrible cold of the iron enter me as a spike is being hammered through my wrist and I am helpless, helpless to stop what is being done to me. And I know there is no more hope and no going back.
I can only scream and writhe in agony as they lift the timber until my feet leave the ground and I am hanging by the nails. The pain is impossible, unimaginable. I feel the roughness of the wood against my bare back and buttocks as I struggle. Even in my agony, I feel the shame of my nakedness.
They quickly seize my flailing legs and pin my feet against the timber. I watch in horror as the executioner swings his hammer and I scream as I feel the point of the nail passing between the bones and through the sole of my foot, into the solid wood. He has made me a part of the cross. I feel the agony in my wrists and feet, the taut muscles of my outstretched arms, the impossibility of any relief from the torture. I know that the only escape is death, and the worst horror of all is that death is far, far away.
Then Sabina tells us how she came to be condemned to the cross. In the process of telling about her life as a slave, she mentions Balbus the carnifex, whose cruelty is legendary, and how he is able to keep a slave alive and suffering on the cross for as long as he chooses.
Sabina tells us about her fascination with crucifixion, how she slips away to watch whenever she can, and how it has obsessed her thoughts for years.
I felt guilty as I welcomed back the feelings I had not had since fleeing Pompeii. I had seen many crucifixions there; the first one I saw when I was eleven years old horrified me with its brutality. But it also awakened strange new feelings in my budding young body – feelings that made me want to recall that scene again and again.
Often, at night in my bed, I vividly recalled the pictures of that first crucifixion, wondering at how my nipples hardened until they ached, and at the shuddering thrill that shot through me when my fingertips strayed between my legs to brush my oddly swollen lower lips. As I learned to pleasure myself, very often the fantasies that accompanied the act were of the naked men – and sometimes women – whose crucifixions I witnessed. Because despite the horror, I was drawn back again and again to slip in among the onlookers and watch in guilty fascination as well as heated arousal each time another naked victim was nailed to a cross.
So we know at this point that consciously or not, Sabina may have contrived to have herself crucified.
