Depictor of Dreams
Gallius turned to the Centurion and handed him a piece of wood with two short rawhides attached.
"Suspende hunc titulum (hang this title)." The man looked puzzled. "Quomodo (How do I)?" There was no upright above Melania to tie the sign.
Marcus held out two crude and thick needles. "Interfode papillas (pierce (her) nipples)." The Centurion grinned and turned toward the cross. He laughed out loud when he read the writing. At the cross, he took a moment to survey the petite brunette hanging there. She was just in the act of trying to pull her hips up off the curnu; trying to ease the horrible pressure in her rectum in exchange for unbearable pain in her wrists and arms. As she did so, she thrust her full breasts outward and upward and hollowed out her already thin tummy. He was pleased that she would provide a lengthly and erotic display during her time on the cross.
The Centurion stepped up close and savored the dark nipples, right at his eye level. He grabbed one tightly with thumb and forefinger and pulled it roughly out, drawing a small cry for the already tortured woman. Taking the large needle in his other hand, he positioned the point at the base of the nipple and began pushing.
As she felt the needle assault her breast, Melania gasped and held herself rigid. Then it penetrated, and she screamed, pulling herself upward in an involuntary reaction to the rough metal tearing at her nipple. As the Centurion took his time piercing and gouging the sensitive flesh, her screams continued. At last, the point emerged from the other side, blood flowing freely down her tit.
Melania panted with pain, making her already large breasts even more enticing. The Centurion went to her other breast and again pinched and pulled hard on the nipple. "Please," she begged softly. "Please don't. I hurt so much already."
The Centurion laughed and began working the needle slowly and cruelly through the base of the second nipple. When he finished, there were trails of blood flowing down each breast and on down her middle. He tied the rawhide to each needle and then, in a final act of cruelty, dropped the sign to deliver a painful fug on the pierced flesh.
"Sorry you can't read it, cunne. So all who pass by will know what you are, 'Scelerata Serva’ (poisonous or traitorous slave woman, polluted, profaned by guilt). “Die slowly, meretrix!"
Text by @Praefectus Praetorio