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Hangnail
Tribune
Willowfall Captured (5), by Hangnail
Silvanus made her kneel down, her hands still gripping the cords to save her
nipples from the pull of the weights on the other end. He lifted the front of
his tunic and tucked it in to his belt. I was impressed at the size of his
prick, as it wobbled back and forth in front of Willowfall's face. He held her
head in place, and slapped her face with his hand, raising a red color in her
cheeks. Then he slapped his dick across her face, smearing her with
pre-cum. She opened her mouth wide, knowing that she would escape from pain
only as long as Silvanus chose to play with her.
Silvanus wiped his glans on her lips. He told her to lick her lips, and then
to run her tongue along his prick. Her made her lick the tip and the shaft,
kiss the tip, and tug on his pubic hair using her teeth. After a while he let
her take the tip in to her mouth, but then withdrew it and made her go back to
licking it. Each time he let her take it a bit further in her mouth, then took
it out and made her tease it to earn the next insertion. Gallus and I enjoyed
the slurping and sucking sounds. I encouraged Willowfall with occasional
lashes of the cane across her butt.
Finally, Silvanus's dick hit the back of her throat. He ordered her to her
suck it for a while, then grasped her by the hair and forced it in
further. She couldn't use her hands to stop him, and the sounds changed to
choking and gagging. Her face turned even redder. Then he was out of her
again and she took a few deep breaths.
"Getting the idea, cunt?"
Willowfall nodded weakly and coughed up some more phlegm. Silvanus grabbed
her by the hair and plunged his dick back into her mouth.
"When's it my turn?" asked Gallus.
"Come on," said Silvanus, "see if you can liven her up a bit... again."
Gallus leaped forwards, leaving poor old Sextus on the ground with his head
propped up against the stool so he could savor Willowfall's degradation.
Silvanus withdrew from Willowfall's mouth. She drew a shaky breath as
strings of goo swung from her lips. Silvanus pushed Willowfall down to her
hands and knees, and knelt in front of her upraised head. Gallus was already
prodding her other end with his dick.
"On three!" I called out. "One, two, two and a half. Two and..."
"Three!" yelled Silvanus and Gallus in unison, and sank their dicks in to
both ends of Willowfall. She gave a muffled cry. Gallus started pumping
slowly and then got up to a steady pace. His thrusts drove Willowfall's mouth
on to Silvanus's dick. Silvanus grunted with satisfaction and started thrusting
back. This excited Gallus and he redoubled his efforts. They slammed
Willowfall in unison as if trying to concertina her slim torso. The sound of
slurping and slapping grew faster and faster. Willowfall was turning red
and started pushing her buttocks back against Gallus's thrusts, trying to
save her throat from being forced on to Silvanus's thick prick.
Gallus and Silvanus impaled her from both ends more and more violently until
they both came, bellowing like bulls. Ignoring Willowfall's struggles,
they both went on thrusting for a while, then withdrew their glistening
pricks.
Willowfall sagged to the ground and rolled over on her back. She clutched
the cords to her breast in her left hand, and with her right hand massaged her
swollen pussy, moaning quietly.
"We had to do all the work," complained Silvanus. "Useless cunt. Did you
swallow it, bitch? Show me!"
She opened her mouth. Silvanus scraped some white goo off her cheek and made
her suck it off his finger.
"Not much of a pussy," added Gallus, not to be outdone. "Might as well
dip my dick in a bowl of soup."
Willowfall looked crestfallen.
"What, you're not a virgin?" said Silvanus to Willowfall, in mock horror.
She shook her head in humiliation.
Gallus knelt over Willowfall's face, and had her clean her own juices
off his prick. He squeezed out a few drops of semen and she willingly
licked them off the tip.
I poured some water on her face. She spluttered then eagerly drank it.
"Couldn't you let me go now?" She asked, her eyes on Gallus.
We looked at each other, then burst out laughing. Her eyes glistened with
tears.
"Don't worry, sweetie," said Silvanus, "You won't get nailed up on your
own. We'll find some friends for you to hang out with."
We cut Willowfall free of the hanging weights, leaving about a foot of cord
attached to each nipple-hook, and locked her in the shop's back storeroom,
with Sextus on guard outside the door. The sun was setting and you could smell
the faint smokiness of dinner-time cooking fires getting started around the
city.
I went back a few hours after sunset to check up on her. I think she was
hoping to see Gallus, not me. She was tearstained and shivering. She'd put on
her torn dress and sandals. I gave her some canvas bags from the shop to sleep
on, a cup of water and some leftover army bread. She asked what was going to
happen next day and I told her to ask Sextus. She fell on her face at my feet,
weeping that she knew it was her fault he was dead, and offering to be our
slave, do anything we wanted, to be my own personal courtesan. I laughed and
told her that for a fraction of the loot I had already taken from her city I
could have a harem girl who knew how to please a man.
"But you liked it when... when you..." she whimpered uncertainly.
I told her that if she couldn't even talk in plain language about what she'd
already done she was hardly going to make it as a courtesan.
"My ass, when you were screwing my ass," she said, making her eyes all big
and innocent.
"And who was the one who really liked it?" I asked.
She wiped her tearstained cheeks and put her head in her hands.
I locked the door and left.
Silvanus made her kneel down, her hands still gripping the cords to save her
nipples from the pull of the weights on the other end. He lifted the front of
his tunic and tucked it in to his belt. I was impressed at the size of his
prick, as it wobbled back and forth in front of Willowfall's face. He held her
head in place, and slapped her face with his hand, raising a red color in her
cheeks. Then he slapped his dick across her face, smearing her with
pre-cum. She opened her mouth wide, knowing that she would escape from pain
only as long as Silvanus chose to play with her.
Silvanus wiped his glans on her lips. He told her to lick her lips, and then
to run her tongue along his prick. Her made her lick the tip and the shaft,
kiss the tip, and tug on his pubic hair using her teeth. After a while he let
her take the tip in to her mouth, but then withdrew it and made her go back to
licking it. Each time he let her take it a bit further in her mouth, then took
it out and made her tease it to earn the next insertion. Gallus and I enjoyed
the slurping and sucking sounds. I encouraged Willowfall with occasional
lashes of the cane across her butt.
Finally, Silvanus's dick hit the back of her throat. He ordered her to her
suck it for a while, then grasped her by the hair and forced it in
further. She couldn't use her hands to stop him, and the sounds changed to
choking and gagging. Her face turned even redder. Then he was out of her
again and she took a few deep breaths.
"Getting the idea, cunt?"
Willowfall nodded weakly and coughed up some more phlegm. Silvanus grabbed
her by the hair and plunged his dick back into her mouth.
"When's it my turn?" asked Gallus.
"Come on," said Silvanus, "see if you can liven her up a bit... again."
Gallus leaped forwards, leaving poor old Sextus on the ground with his head
propped up against the stool so he could savor Willowfall's degradation.
Silvanus withdrew from Willowfall's mouth. She drew a shaky breath as
strings of goo swung from her lips. Silvanus pushed Willowfall down to her
hands and knees, and knelt in front of her upraised head. Gallus was already
prodding her other end with his dick.
"On three!" I called out. "One, two, two and a half. Two and..."
"Three!" yelled Silvanus and Gallus in unison, and sank their dicks in to
both ends of Willowfall. She gave a muffled cry. Gallus started pumping
slowly and then got up to a steady pace. His thrusts drove Willowfall's mouth
on to Silvanus's dick. Silvanus grunted with satisfaction and started thrusting
back. This excited Gallus and he redoubled his efforts. They slammed
Willowfall in unison as if trying to concertina her slim torso. The sound of
slurping and slapping grew faster and faster. Willowfall was turning red
and started pushing her buttocks back against Gallus's thrusts, trying to
save her throat from being forced on to Silvanus's thick prick.
Gallus and Silvanus impaled her from both ends more and more violently until
they both came, bellowing like bulls. Ignoring Willowfall's struggles,
they both went on thrusting for a while, then withdrew their glistening
pricks.
Willowfall sagged to the ground and rolled over on her back. She clutched
the cords to her breast in her left hand, and with her right hand massaged her
swollen pussy, moaning quietly.
"We had to do all the work," complained Silvanus. "Useless cunt. Did you
swallow it, bitch? Show me!"
She opened her mouth. Silvanus scraped some white goo off her cheek and made
her suck it off his finger.
"Not much of a pussy," added Gallus, not to be outdone. "Might as well
dip my dick in a bowl of soup."
Willowfall looked crestfallen.
"What, you're not a virgin?" said Silvanus to Willowfall, in mock horror.
She shook her head in humiliation.
Gallus knelt over Willowfall's face, and had her clean her own juices
off his prick. He squeezed out a few drops of semen and she willingly
licked them off the tip.
I poured some water on her face. She spluttered then eagerly drank it.
"Couldn't you let me go now?" She asked, her eyes on Gallus.
We looked at each other, then burst out laughing. Her eyes glistened with
tears.
"Don't worry, sweetie," said Silvanus, "You won't get nailed up on your
own. We'll find some friends for you to hang out with."
We cut Willowfall free of the hanging weights, leaving about a foot of cord
attached to each nipple-hook, and locked her in the shop's back storeroom,
with Sextus on guard outside the door. The sun was setting and you could smell
the faint smokiness of dinner-time cooking fires getting started around the
city.
I went back a few hours after sunset to check up on her. I think she was
hoping to see Gallus, not me. She was tearstained and shivering. She'd put on
her torn dress and sandals. I gave her some canvas bags from the shop to sleep
on, a cup of water and some leftover army bread. She asked what was going to
happen next day and I told her to ask Sextus. She fell on her face at my feet,
weeping that she knew it was her fault he was dead, and offering to be our
slave, do anything we wanted, to be my own personal courtesan. I laughed and
told her that for a fraction of the loot I had already taken from her city I
could have a harem girl who knew how to please a man.
"But you liked it when... when you..." she whimpered uncertainly.
I told her that if she couldn't even talk in plain language about what she'd
already done she was hardly going to make it as a courtesan.
"My ass, when you were screwing my ass," she said, making her eyes all big
and innocent.
"And who was the one who really liked it?" I asked.
She wiped her tearstained cheeks and put her head in her hands.
I locked the door and left.
hankstr
Magistrate
Actually, it was by design - an impossibly skinny body supporting breasts that are a little too large. At the same time, the Roman's manhood is overdone a bit too. I experiment sometimes with the figures, sometimes with good results and sometimes over the top!
Again I'm going to post this all over the board with the hope of the most viewing. If you would please post yor pictures as 'thumbnails' those on dial-up could more ready open the post. Those on Satellite even quicker. Those of us on cell air cards are being hammered with overage charges that will affect our ability to view and/or contribute.
Thanks,
THT
Thanks,
THT
Kodos the Executioner
Governor
Lovely story and great pics!
Naraku
Draconarius
Clicking on a thumbnail opens a slideshow. In the upper right corner, there is an option to open the image in a seperate window.
Hangnail
Tribune
Willowfall Captured (6), by Hangnail
We got up at sunrise. After we ate I went and opened up the storeroom.
Willowfall had torn the canvas bags in to strips. Perhaps she'd been planning
to strangle herself somehow.
"Please, I want to die like a soldier," she told me.
"Don't worry, you'll be fine." I said.
"I don't want to die like a slave. Not crucified in front of everyone."
"Don't worry, it won't hurt too much: these guys know what they're doing,"
I said. She didn't seem to appreciate the joke.
She went on complaining about the day's planned activities as I tied together
the two short cords that were still attached to the hooks in her nipples, and
tied another cord to them, like a leash. One jerk on the leash and she
followed me attentively.
When we got outside, the activity of the day was just beginning. Men were
scarce, of course, but there were women out in the streets doing morning
errands. Willowfall was taken aback and looked down, embarrassed at her
near-nakedness. Her dress was all torn up and showed her body every time the
wind blew. We'd emptied the outpost and I told Gallus he'd be pulling the
small cart on to which he and Silvanus had already loaded all our stuff,
including Sextus's weapons and armor. Gallus was not happy but knew better
than to disobey a direct order. Willowfall asked to be allowed to carry her
bow. She wanted to look like a captured warrior. I told her we'd lost it. Then
we set off, leading her by her leash. People stared at her, some seeming
curious and others tightening their lips in sympathy. Willowfall tried to
carry herself with as much dignity as she could muster.
The forum was bustling with people. Many were citizens with stuff they'd
salvaged or stolen from their own sacked city, desperate to barter it for
food. There were also legionnaires eager to take the second-hand loot,
offering excess army food rations in exchange. There didn't seem to be a
Tribune or anyone who could officially pass judgement on Willowfall. Gallus
waited with the cart while Silvanus and I draggged her around the place like a
dog. She tried to ignore the crowd and kept her hands crossed over her
chest. Some jovial sappers offered to exchange her for a head of cabbage, and
when we turned them down they offered to throw in a dead rat. Willowfall
glared at them. Finally we found a quartermaster and asked him about
procedure.
"Do it yourself," he growled. "You need timber and nails, just take 'em from
the siege wall."
Willowfall looked stunned. She'd been expecting a trial where she could
stand up and publicly defy the Romans, then to be led, head held high, to a
martyr's death before an admiring populace.
We rejoined Gallus, since he'd have to take the cart out to the main camp
anyway, and together walked along the street to the city gate. Willowfall
resisted, pulling on the leash and refusing to walk. She demanded to be taken
to the Praefectus to plead her case. Silvanus tied her hands behind her back
and we dragged her by the nipple-leash. Outside the gate loitered the dregs of
the population: beggars, tinkers, and prostitutes. The siege wall,
already partly dismantled, stood a hundred yards ahead. There were bodies
still nailed to it, whole families of escaping citizens who had been captured
during the siege. There were a few low crosses along the road where we were,
near the city wall. Bloody, naked bodies of men hung motionless on the first
few, but there were two more, another fifty feet ahead and about ten feet off
on the right side of the road, that were almost lost amongst a dense crowd.
We came along the road next to them, but they were crux humilis and you could
only just see the twitching hands nailed to each crossbeam visible above the
heads of the crowd.
There was no guard detail, so we decided to take that role. Gallus tethered
Willowfall to the cart and we moved in to the crowd, shouting and brandishing
our swords. The motley group moved reluctantly back, and the two victims came
in to view. They were a man and a woman, probably nailed up within the last
hour. They were active on their crosses, struggling from position to position,
with moans and gasps and the occasional loud cry. The sign lashed to the
man's cross said "Thief". The woman's said "Whore". She had black hair that
formed a mass of springy curls about her tear-streaked face. Her skin was
pale. Her thick legs were bent at the knee and her solid behind rested against
the stipes. Her breasts were big and white, with large pink areolas. They
swung invitingly as she twisted from side to side. The black nailheads stood
out on her white wrists, and her feet had been nailed side by side to the top
of a thick segment of tree trunk that lay on its side at the foot of her
cross. Her pubic area was plucked and her labia were visible. The man was
older with grey stubble on his face, also very pale apart from his face and
forearms. He had been fixed in a similar fashion, except that his feet had
been nailed through the heels to the sides of the stipes.
They noticed that the crowd, which had been tormenting them with unsympathetic
words and physical abuse, had moved away. Both were down in the low-hanging
position, their knees sticking out in front. When they saw us, their
inarticulate howling and sobbing gave way to pleading with us to let them
down. When they realized we were only here with another victim to join them,
the man began cursing us, but the woman kept begging. Her pleas grew louder
and more shrill. Her hair bounced around her pain-twisted face. She looked up
at the nailheads sticking out of her wrists. She had been hanging low for
long enough that the pain in her arms and wrists was becoming unbearable. I
glanced across at Willowfall. She stood motionless, her eyes wide with horror,
fixed on the woman. All of us stared, entranced, as the woman's leg muscles
tightened, and she began to push upwards. Blood dribbled from the nails in her
feet as she bore down on them. The log rolled a little, and her feet
were rotated from the top to the front, so she found herself being pushed
outwards rather than upwards by her efforts. As drops of blood fell from
her toes to the ground, her thick legs quivered, and with a great cry
of despair she slumped back again to the low-hanging position.
"What about here, then?" I asked Willowfall, pointing at the space between
the two crosses. "You'd have these two to talk to when the crowd goes away. Or
if you want your own space you could be on the other side of the road."
"No," croaked Willowfall. Her hands were shaking, and the color had drained
from her face.
There was a stack of timbers behind the man's cross that had been brought
from the siege wall by whoever assembled the crosses for the man and woman.
I pulled Willowfall forward. She looked first at the woman, who was
shaking her head and keening through clenched teeth, then at the man, who
was just beginning to stir as the agony of his stretched arms increased
to match that of his impaled feet.
"Look," I tried to get her to look at the pile of lumber. "One
of those thick pieces could be your stipes."
One of them was 8 feet long, so when buried in the ground it would make a
crux humilis, low like the other two. The other was a good 12 feet and would
put Willowfall's hips at about head height.
"Well, do you want to be above the crowd?" I asked, solicitously.
She looked around wildly. "I'm not a common criminal!" she shouted
with hysterical force that quieted the chattering onlookers. "I fought
the Romans! We fought to save our city!"
There was silence in the crowd. They could tell from her speech that
she was from the city's more prosperous classes, the merchants and rulers who
had resisted the Romans because they had most to lose. The men surveyed
her well-toned body. Many of them had lusted hopelessly after high-class
women like Willowfall.
"Please!" she cried out, "Don't let them nail me up here with a thief
and a prostitute!"
"What's wrong with being a prostitute?" shouted one of the women in the
crowd.
Silvanus and Gallus got out shovels from our cart. I picked out two of the
stronger-looking men and told them to dig a three foot hole for the stipes
between the two existing crosses. I poked around in the pile for something
strong enough to make a crossbeam, with a flat edge somewhere near the middle
where it could be fitted to the upright. Silvanus looked for any reusable
nails embedded in the lumber, and pried them out using a crowbar.
Willowfall, meanwhile, was not winning over the crowd.
"Look what the Romans are doing to us!" she pleaded. "I fought back and
they tortured me!"
"What did they do, take away your silk bedsheets?" shouted one of the
prostitutes. She had a large round body but with no breasts to speak of.
Her eyes were crudely lined with kohl.
"What do you *think* they did?" retorted Willowfall, angrily.
"Looks like they used your tits for fish-bait!" called a man at the back,
"Not that they'd catch much!"
The taunting of Willowfall went on while the two men from the crowd dug a
hole in the ground between the two occupied crosses. The crucified man was
unable to hide his pain and desperation. In between cries of anguish he was
able, his voice shaking with agony, to plead with Silvanus to take the nails
from his heels. It must have been particularly galling to him that his toes
were just inches from the ground, so he could easily have planted his feet
firmly on the earth at the base of his stipes if they hadn't been nailed to
the sides of it. Silvanus laughed and offered to use the crowbar to break his
legs. The man cursed him and writhed with pain and frustration, causing
himself even more torture, then accepted Silvanus's offer. Silvanus just waved
him off like an annoying beggar.
I went back to Willowfall, and untied her hands, keeping a firm grip
on her wrists. Her fear, amplified by the sadistic excitement of the crowd,
brought out a sheen of sweat over her whole body, and I found myself
excited by the feral smell of her.
"Please!" she said to me, louder than she had intended, "not here with
these low-lifes. Take me back to..."
"Low-lifes?" hollered a wasted beggar whose stained tunic could not conceal
his bulging enjoyment of the cruel spectacle. He posed before the crowd. "She
called us 'low-lifes'!"
A chorus of booing and jeering filled the air, and grew in to a ringing
chant.
"Hang her low! Make it slow! Hang her low! Make it slow!"
Willowfall struggled in my grip as Silvanus came over to us, dragging a
plank that would make a thin but serviceable patibulum. The two diggers were
still working, but with the crowd in such a mood there was no need to wait.
Then a few voices started a new refrain, which gathered force until it
was as loud as the first.
"Hang her high! Make her cry! Hang her high! Make her cry!".
Laundry scrubbers and prostitutes cheerfully elbowed each other and tried to
out-shout each other as the two factions competed to carry the day. A tinker
banged his pots and kitchen utensils together in support of the "hang her
high" side; a pair of derelict beggars so ancient that I couldn't tell if they
were male or female opened their toothless mouths in croaking support of
hanging her low. Willowfall looked devastated. I let the battle rage for a
minute and then raised my sword in a commanding gesture. The chanting slowly
died away.
"Citizens!" I said. There was laughter at this high form of address.
"Good people," I went on, "It is time for you do do something the masters
of this city never let you do before. Vote!"
A roar of approval greeted this suggestion.
We got up at sunrise. After we ate I went and opened up the storeroom.
Willowfall had torn the canvas bags in to strips. Perhaps she'd been planning
to strangle herself somehow.
"Please, I want to die like a soldier," she told me.
"Don't worry, you'll be fine." I said.
"I don't want to die like a slave. Not crucified in front of everyone."
"Don't worry, it won't hurt too much: these guys know what they're doing,"
I said. She didn't seem to appreciate the joke.
She went on complaining about the day's planned activities as I tied together
the two short cords that were still attached to the hooks in her nipples, and
tied another cord to them, like a leash. One jerk on the leash and she
followed me attentively.
When we got outside, the activity of the day was just beginning. Men were
scarce, of course, but there were women out in the streets doing morning
errands. Willowfall was taken aback and looked down, embarrassed at her
near-nakedness. Her dress was all torn up and showed her body every time the
wind blew. We'd emptied the outpost and I told Gallus he'd be pulling the
small cart on to which he and Silvanus had already loaded all our stuff,
including Sextus's weapons and armor. Gallus was not happy but knew better
than to disobey a direct order. Willowfall asked to be allowed to carry her
bow. She wanted to look like a captured warrior. I told her we'd lost it. Then
we set off, leading her by her leash. People stared at her, some seeming
curious and others tightening their lips in sympathy. Willowfall tried to
carry herself with as much dignity as she could muster.
The forum was bustling with people. Many were citizens with stuff they'd
salvaged or stolen from their own sacked city, desperate to barter it for
food. There were also legionnaires eager to take the second-hand loot,
offering excess army food rations in exchange. There didn't seem to be a
Tribune or anyone who could officially pass judgement on Willowfall. Gallus
waited with the cart while Silvanus and I draggged her around the place like a
dog. She tried to ignore the crowd and kept her hands crossed over her
chest. Some jovial sappers offered to exchange her for a head of cabbage, and
when we turned them down they offered to throw in a dead rat. Willowfall
glared at them. Finally we found a quartermaster and asked him about
procedure.
"Do it yourself," he growled. "You need timber and nails, just take 'em from
the siege wall."
Willowfall looked stunned. She'd been expecting a trial where she could
stand up and publicly defy the Romans, then to be led, head held high, to a
martyr's death before an admiring populace.
We rejoined Gallus, since he'd have to take the cart out to the main camp
anyway, and together walked along the street to the city gate. Willowfall
resisted, pulling on the leash and refusing to walk. She demanded to be taken
to the Praefectus to plead her case. Silvanus tied her hands behind her back
and we dragged her by the nipple-leash. Outside the gate loitered the dregs of
the population: beggars, tinkers, and prostitutes. The siege wall,
already partly dismantled, stood a hundred yards ahead. There were bodies
still nailed to it, whole families of escaping citizens who had been captured
during the siege. There were a few low crosses along the road where we were,
near the city wall. Bloody, naked bodies of men hung motionless on the first
few, but there were two more, another fifty feet ahead and about ten feet off
on the right side of the road, that were almost lost amongst a dense crowd.
We came along the road next to them, but they were crux humilis and you could
only just see the twitching hands nailed to each crossbeam visible above the
heads of the crowd.
There was no guard detail, so we decided to take that role. Gallus tethered
Willowfall to the cart and we moved in to the crowd, shouting and brandishing
our swords. The motley group moved reluctantly back, and the two victims came
in to view. They were a man and a woman, probably nailed up within the last
hour. They were active on their crosses, struggling from position to position,
with moans and gasps and the occasional loud cry. The sign lashed to the
man's cross said "Thief". The woman's said "Whore". She had black hair that
formed a mass of springy curls about her tear-streaked face. Her skin was
pale. Her thick legs were bent at the knee and her solid behind rested against
the stipes. Her breasts were big and white, with large pink areolas. They
swung invitingly as she twisted from side to side. The black nailheads stood
out on her white wrists, and her feet had been nailed side by side to the top
of a thick segment of tree trunk that lay on its side at the foot of her
cross. Her pubic area was plucked and her labia were visible. The man was
older with grey stubble on his face, also very pale apart from his face and
forearms. He had been fixed in a similar fashion, except that his feet had
been nailed through the heels to the sides of the stipes.
They noticed that the crowd, which had been tormenting them with unsympathetic
words and physical abuse, had moved away. Both were down in the low-hanging
position, their knees sticking out in front. When they saw us, their
inarticulate howling and sobbing gave way to pleading with us to let them
down. When they realized we were only here with another victim to join them,
the man began cursing us, but the woman kept begging. Her pleas grew louder
and more shrill. Her hair bounced around her pain-twisted face. She looked up
at the nailheads sticking out of her wrists. She had been hanging low for
long enough that the pain in her arms and wrists was becoming unbearable. I
glanced across at Willowfall. She stood motionless, her eyes wide with horror,
fixed on the woman. All of us stared, entranced, as the woman's leg muscles
tightened, and she began to push upwards. Blood dribbled from the nails in her
feet as she bore down on them. The log rolled a little, and her feet
were rotated from the top to the front, so she found herself being pushed
outwards rather than upwards by her efforts. As drops of blood fell from
her toes to the ground, her thick legs quivered, and with a great cry
of despair she slumped back again to the low-hanging position.
"What about here, then?" I asked Willowfall, pointing at the space between
the two crosses. "You'd have these two to talk to when the crowd goes away. Or
if you want your own space you could be on the other side of the road."
"No," croaked Willowfall. Her hands were shaking, and the color had drained
from her face.
There was a stack of timbers behind the man's cross that had been brought
from the siege wall by whoever assembled the crosses for the man and woman.
I pulled Willowfall forward. She looked first at the woman, who was
shaking her head and keening through clenched teeth, then at the man, who
was just beginning to stir as the agony of his stretched arms increased
to match that of his impaled feet.
"Look," I tried to get her to look at the pile of lumber. "One
of those thick pieces could be your stipes."
One of them was 8 feet long, so when buried in the ground it would make a
crux humilis, low like the other two. The other was a good 12 feet and would
put Willowfall's hips at about head height.
"Well, do you want to be above the crowd?" I asked, solicitously.
She looked around wildly. "I'm not a common criminal!" she shouted
with hysterical force that quieted the chattering onlookers. "I fought
the Romans! We fought to save our city!"
There was silence in the crowd. They could tell from her speech that
she was from the city's more prosperous classes, the merchants and rulers who
had resisted the Romans because they had most to lose. The men surveyed
her well-toned body. Many of them had lusted hopelessly after high-class
women like Willowfall.
"Please!" she cried out, "Don't let them nail me up here with a thief
and a prostitute!"
"What's wrong with being a prostitute?" shouted one of the women in the
crowd.
Silvanus and Gallus got out shovels from our cart. I picked out two of the
stronger-looking men and told them to dig a three foot hole for the stipes
between the two existing crosses. I poked around in the pile for something
strong enough to make a crossbeam, with a flat edge somewhere near the middle
where it could be fitted to the upright. Silvanus looked for any reusable
nails embedded in the lumber, and pried them out using a crowbar.
Willowfall, meanwhile, was not winning over the crowd.
"Look what the Romans are doing to us!" she pleaded. "I fought back and
they tortured me!"
"What did they do, take away your silk bedsheets?" shouted one of the
prostitutes. She had a large round body but with no breasts to speak of.
Her eyes were crudely lined with kohl.
"What do you *think* they did?" retorted Willowfall, angrily.
"Looks like they used your tits for fish-bait!" called a man at the back,
"Not that they'd catch much!"
The taunting of Willowfall went on while the two men from the crowd dug a
hole in the ground between the two occupied crosses. The crucified man was
unable to hide his pain and desperation. In between cries of anguish he was
able, his voice shaking with agony, to plead with Silvanus to take the nails
from his heels. It must have been particularly galling to him that his toes
were just inches from the ground, so he could easily have planted his feet
firmly on the earth at the base of his stipes if they hadn't been nailed to
the sides of it. Silvanus laughed and offered to use the crowbar to break his
legs. The man cursed him and writhed with pain and frustration, causing
himself even more torture, then accepted Silvanus's offer. Silvanus just waved
him off like an annoying beggar.
I went back to Willowfall, and untied her hands, keeping a firm grip
on her wrists. Her fear, amplified by the sadistic excitement of the crowd,
brought out a sheen of sweat over her whole body, and I found myself
excited by the feral smell of her.
"Please!" she said to me, louder than she had intended, "not here with
these low-lifes. Take me back to..."
"Low-lifes?" hollered a wasted beggar whose stained tunic could not conceal
his bulging enjoyment of the cruel spectacle. He posed before the crowd. "She
called us 'low-lifes'!"
A chorus of booing and jeering filled the air, and grew in to a ringing
chant.
"Hang her low! Make it slow! Hang her low! Make it slow!"
Willowfall struggled in my grip as Silvanus came over to us, dragging a
plank that would make a thin but serviceable patibulum. The two diggers were
still working, but with the crowd in such a mood there was no need to wait.
Then a few voices started a new refrain, which gathered force until it
was as loud as the first.
"Hang her high! Make her cry! Hang her high! Make her cry!".
Laundry scrubbers and prostitutes cheerfully elbowed each other and tried to
out-shout each other as the two factions competed to carry the day. A tinker
banged his pots and kitchen utensils together in support of the "hang her
high" side; a pair of derelict beggars so ancient that I couldn't tell if they
were male or female opened their toothless mouths in croaking support of
hanging her low. Willowfall looked devastated. I let the battle rage for a
minute and then raised my sword in a commanding gesture. The chanting slowly
died away.
"Citizens!" I said. There was laughter at this high form of address.
"Good people," I went on, "It is time for you do do something the masters
of this city never let you do before. Vote!"
A roar of approval greeted this suggestion.
willowfall
Senator
Well I think it is very creative the man is obviously very sadistic. The author has given me a little more aggressive initially than I think I would be in real life but then he only knows me persona on the board. Depending on the situation I can be very aggressive (basketball for example) but since sexually I'm submissive I probably wouldn't have been so resistant to the soldiers (my brothers also taught me to not make a bad situation worse and to set up a situation that I can turn to my advantage).
I like the way that real history is blended into the scenario.
And it is an easy story to get off too.
So I guess I'd give a 4 orgasms out of 5 for this review.
kisses
willowfall
I like the way that real history is blended into the scenario.
And it is an easy story to get off too.
So I guess I'd give a 4 orgasms out of 5 for this review.
kisses
willowfall
good note
Fantasmo
Senator
Now I am curious for the pictogram for "orgasms".
We know "stars" for hotels, "Chili's" for hot food, but (female) "Orgasms"....
