Act XXI – The beach below Shakespeare Cliff, Dover
The captain fetched an oblong wooden board,
Upon which was a single word scrawled.
‘Traitor,’ it said.
He nailed it above her head,
To cheers from the onlooking horde.
The captain saw the crowd’s eager faces,
And swiftly got his guards to their places.
The patibulum was well roped,
And the captain just hoped
He could put his team through their paces.
‘Push the stipes up slowly from the back,
While at the front you take up the slack,’
He shouted out loudly,
Then looked on quite proudly,
As his men kept the raising on track.
The base of the cross found the hole,
And sank slowly down to its goal.
Six feet it was deep,
So it really would keep
The cross steady and under control.
Cordelia felt the cross become tilted,
Though the movements were a little bit stilted.
A white gull or two,
Then the sea came into view,
But her body still remained wilted.
The cross came to a stop with a thud,
And the cornu crushed the poor girl’s bud.
Lightning shot down her arms,
Causing the girl great alarms,
And from her wrists trickled trails of fresh blood.
Of her pain there could be no doubt,
When in agony Cordelia cried out.
Her screams were so shrill,
Until her body became still,
With her mouth in a tormented pout.
‘Make sure she faces out to sea,
Where gulls will always fly free.
As she has her last dance,
She can look over to France,
Knowing there again she never will be.’
The guards filled up the hole with sand,
And any round pebbles on hand.
They made sure it was firm,
So if the traitor should squirm,
Her cross would still solidly stand.
To keep at bay the drunken dross,
They pounded in posts round the cross.
They joined them with rope,
In the optimistic hope
It would show the crowd who was boss.
The guards erected a tent,
And into it some of them went.
A shelter from the heat,
That was really neat,
Where restful hours could be spent.
Edmund looked up at the girl.
His mind in a great, heady swirl.
Her breasts were without flaws,
But her hands were like claws,
And her toes were starting to curl.
Her head rested on her right arm,
As if trying to shelter from harm.
Her hair was all matted,
When once it was plaited,
But her face still held real charm.
Her body was really just grand,
From her foot right up to her hand.
Slim legs with great thighs,
Full breasts that did rise,
Each time her chest did expand.
The captain to the girl went up close,
Her foul stench invaded his nose.
His head was right in front
Of her sore, impaled cunt,
That very rudely on the cornu did pose.
Already in the hot afternoon sun,
The girl’s beautiful skin had begun,
To burn the colour of scarlet,
Like a true East End harlot,
And with a mix of pee’n’sweat did it run.
Soon the girl’s chest was barely expanding,
And there could be no misunderstanding.
This girl would soon die,
If she didn’t now try
To do as he’d be commanding.
‘To breathe deep you must push up with your legs.
You can use the spikes just like pegs,
You must bend your arms
As you show us your charms.
That’s what the crowd here begs.’
‘When you straighten your legs all the way,
The wood in your pussy will stay.
It’s made to fit well,
I hope you can tell,
And keep you nicely on display.’
She steeled herself with guttural sighs,
Then tensed the muscles of her thighs,
She just had the strength
To rise up the length
Of the cornu to her great surprise.
Cordelia tearfully did as she was told.
But didn’t expect what would unfold.
Though the pain was severe,
Pleasure was also near,
As the rise and fall of her body she controlled.
The rough wooden cock in her cunt
Found her sweet spot and made the girl grunt.
She wiggled her ass,
Like a wanton, young lass,
As for that perfect place she did hunt.
As she slowly moved her sex up and down,
An open-mouthed smile replaced her frown.
This really was bliss
For the tortured young miss,
Who in waves of ecstasy did drown.
The crowd looked on quite astounded,
As the girl continued unbounded.
Her wild sexy dance
Put them all in a trance,
As the girl on her cross they surrounded.
As though she were in a wild, sexy dream,
She let the rough wood continue to ream
Her pussy so sore
It did bleed more and more,
And down the stipes did stream.
Her biceps now worked extra hard,
And she was just able to disregard
The fresh blood that trickled,
And the agony that prickled,
From her wrists that by nails were so scarred.
At last the writhing girl was finally cumming.
And the crowd were literally humming.
Her grunts and her groans,
Her gasps and her moans
A lady were really unbecoming.
Said a lad to a pretty, young wench,
‘I’ve heard she liked shagging the French.
When her sweet spot hits,
She sticks out her tits,
And her cunt around the dildo does clench.’
‘That sure is a right sexy dance,
And I could do with a little romance.’
He put his hand up her skirt,
And pinched her clit ‘til it hurt.
‘What do you reckon, girl? Any chance?’
He pushed the wench down on the sand,
And skilfully guided his hand,
To squeeze her small tit,
While his cock pierced her slit,
And he fucked her very hard, as he’d planned.
In the end Cordelia hung slumped,
Having herself so deliciously humped.
The crowd all clapped,
And each other’s backs slapped,
And their fists in the air wildly pumped.
‘What a wonderful show!’ someone shouted.
‘What a disgusting whore, who could doubt it!’
‘She belongs on the stage.’
‘More like in a cage.’
The insults were readily spouted.
With that erotic performance now over,
On the beach by the white cliffs of Dover.
The crowd took to drinking,
Barrels of ale they were sinking,
And cheap bottles of rum, moreover.
The young wench was all out of luck,
As other lads now wanted a fuck.
She was distraught,
With all her might she fought,
As on her nipple a young guy did suck.
Soon the poor girl was stripped bare,
And sand had matted her hair.
The lad who was on top
Was not going to stop
Until her sweet cunt he did tear.
Her pale, skinny body was bucking,
All the while the laughing boy was rough fucking.
Ragged nails scratched her tits,
Tearing them half to bits,
When the boy on her teats was not sucking.
When he finished the lads all swapped round,
Keeping the girl firmly pinned to the ground.
The next took his turn,
And the poor girl did learn,
That he too her pussy would pound.
Now the poor girl was crying,
While on the hot sand she was lying.
As one after another,
Be they friend or brother,
The lads to fuck her the hardest were vying.
