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Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
Whore

Flavia's eyes went wide as she realized the rude suggestion the Tribune was making. She had taken her husband's cock in her mouth before, but rarely and always when she wanted to thank him for some act of kindness on his part. To do this gross thing for a cruel stranger would have been unimaginable a few hours ago. However, having seen the physical destruction of the man she loved (and her husband, she'd believed until a few minutes ago) and twice hurt in the middle, there was no way Flavia could say no.

The naked matron walked around the table and sank to her knees before Lycus. She took his cock in her right hand and lowered her mouth toward the head. Her disgust toward this rude and brutal man enhanced her disgust at the act to make her almost gag at the thought. But her fear was more assertive, and she forced herself to wrap her lips around the head and listen to his smug groan of satisfaction.

To Flavia, it was a mechanical act that she was required to perform. She did it as well as she could and hoped to bring it to a close as soon as possible. It was both an overwhelming sensual experience and a sweet moment of triumph over this formerly proud woman to Marcus. All too soon, he felt the hot seed ready to erupt. Flavia also recognized the signs and, at the last minute, drew her head up to avoid tasting the revolting emission. When Marcus squirted, however, a small amount landed on her chin.

“Not bad, cunne,” said Lycus as he recovered from the climax. “But a meretrix should know to remain on the member, sucking until all emission is done." Flavia wiped her chin and began to stand.

“Not so fast, cunne! My men need some attention also. Stay on your knees to serve them."

Flavia gasped at the obscene request. But with no other choice, scooted on her knees to the two others and proceeded to suck their dicks. Both men held her head at the end to force their cum into her mouth. Though she spat it out, the horrible taste remained.

“OK, Flavia, on your feet before me. Let’s discuss your future.”


cunne - cunt or slut; meretrix - whore, lit. "she who earns"
 
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Barbaria1

Rebel Leader
Staff member
Defiant enough to spit it out rather than swallow. Exactly what I’d have done!
 

Fossy

Tribune
Whore

Flavia's eyes went wide as she realized the rude suggestion the Tribune was making. She had taken her husband's cock in her mouth before, but rarely and always when she wanted to thank him for some act of kindness on his part. To do this gross thing for a cruel stranger would have been unimaginable a few hours ago. However, having seen the physical destruction of the man she loved (and her husband, she'd believed until a few minutes ago) and twice hurt in the middle, there was no way Flavia could say no.

The naked matron walked around the table and sank to her knees before Lycus. She took his cock in her right hand and lowered her mouth toward the head. Her disgust toward this rude and brutal man enhanced her disgust at the act to make her almost gag at the thought. But her fear was more assertive, and she forced herself to wrap her lips around the head and listen to his smug groan of satisfaction.

To Flavia, it was a mechanical act that she was required to perform. She did it as well as she could and hoped to bring it to a close as soon as possible. It was both an overwhelming sensual experience and a sweet moment of triumph over this formerly proud woman to Marcus. All too soon, he felt the hot seed ready to erupt. Flavia also recognized the signs and, at the last minute, drew her head up to avoid tasting the revolting emission. When Marcus squirted, however, a small amount landed on her chin.

“Not bad, cunne,” said Lycus as he recovered from the climax. “But a meretrix should know to remain on the member, sucking until all emission is done." Flavia wiped her chin and began to stand.

“Not so fast, cunne! My men need some attention also. Stay on your knees to serve them."

Flavia gasped at the obscene request. But with no other choice, scooted on her knees to the two others and proceeded to suck their dicks. Both men held her head at the end to force their cum into her mouth. Though she spat it out, the horrible taste remained.

“OK, Flavia, on your feet before me. Let’s discuss your future.”


cunne - cunt or slut; meretrix - whore, lit. "she who earns"
The infusion of the Latin words is excellent PrPr ... then again we expect nothing less :)
 

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
Sentence

Even with his recent orgasm, the sight before him aroused Lycus. Flavia's pretty face haloed by her golden hair was most attractive. And her full and shapely body was most desirable. But he knew what he had to do. Condemning Julius had already decided Flavia's fate.
“You would make a fine meretrix, with proper training, Flavia. It’s a pity that even after ten years, your former master failed to do so. But all of that is irrelevant now. It is clear in the eyes of the law that you conspired with your husband/master against the life of our Caesar Divi. That demands a death sentence.”
"No! Please, NO!" cried Flavia. She fell to her knees and raised her hands in supplication. "Please let me live, if only for my children."
“For those spurii? They are slaves that will be sold away tomorrow! You would never see them again even if you lived," laughed Lycus. Flavia let out a wail of despair.
“No, cunne, your death is necessary. However, as a slave, you shall not share Julius’ end in beheading. For a slave who revolts against the Imperator, there is only one form of death, crucifixio.”
Flavia's eyes went wide, and her mouth dropped. Crucifixion! The horrible, shameful and agonizing death reserved for the lowest slaves! Marcus couldn’t be serious.

“By the gods, No! I couldn't bear it!"
"Oh, you shall bear it, alright. All the humiliation and the pain. You are no longer a Roman matrona, married to an honorable citizen, deserving of respect, but a whore slave who shall die as such scum deserve."
Flavia continued to wail and beg, louder and louder until Marcus had one of the guards slap her hard across the face.
“It is already octaua (2 PM), too late for a proper crucifixio today. Take her to the Castra Praetoria. Let the men have their pleasure with her tonight. Early in the morning, give her twenty lashes, front and rear.”
Etiam mi,” answered the guard enthusiastically.
“But don’t use a scorpio with wire and bone embedded. It would probably kill her before she got to the cross. Just a flagellum. Then I want her on her cross by tertia (9 AM).”
Velis," replied the guard. The two grabbed the sobbing, distraught woman and dragged her from the room.

spurii -bastards; octaua – the eighth hour; Castra Praetoria – Praetorian Barricks; Etiam mi – Yes Sir; scorpio – enhanced scourge; flagellum – simple scourge (diminutive); tertia - the third hour; velis – as you wish.
 
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Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
Night

Marcus worked in his office until about undecima (5 PM). By then darkness was descending on Rome and he had to complete his work by the light of lucernarum. He had the report for Macro of the trial of Julius and Flavia almost complete, lacking only the completion of her death (in mid-afternoon, a messenger from the jailor had reported that Julius has lost his head). He knew Macro would approve – his origins were even more humble than Lycus’ and he hated the proud Aemilii.

Marcus donned his red Praetorian cloak, breastplate, and helmet of rank and headed over to the Castra Praetoria. It was a good walk to the extreme north-eastern part of Rome, just beyond the inhabited district, but the weather was cool and pleasant. Even in the dusk, all hurried to step aside and give way to an officer of the Praetorian Guard.

The Castra Praetoria was only twelve-years-old, having been built into the old Aurelian Walls that ringed the city. Tiberius had built the barracks at the instigation of former Prefect Sejanus in 21‑23 CE when these troops were first quartered permanently within the city. The brick-faced concrete walls, 15 feet high, had battlements and turreted gates. While new and clean, the structure had an imposing, almost threatening look. Marcus entered through the porta praetoria on the south wall (the others were the porta decumana, north; and the porta principalis dextra and porta principalis sinistra, on the west and east respectively). Acknowledging the salute of the watch, he went straight to the mess room of the First Cohort. There, as he expected, he found Flavia ‘entertaining’ the men.

Actually, Flavia was doing little but lying on a heavy wooden table, groaning and crying as soldiers took turns raping her. At the moment, four held her arms and legs spread tightly while two others were pounding at her cunt and mouth. Marcus observed many splotches of drying semen on her fair body, as well as a few fresh bruises.

The Centurion in charge hurried over to Lycus. “The men want to express their appreciation, Tribune. This is one of the tastiest dishes they’ve been served in a long while.”

“Glad to please then, Lucius. Have an urna (13 liters) of wine made available – I’m paying.”

“May the Gods bless all your endeavors, Tribune. The men will be most grateful.”

“See if they remember when next I assign tough duty,” Marcus and the Centurian shared a laugh.

“Let them have their way until the end of secunda vigilia (midnight), then let her rest on that table until I return. I want her strong enough to last a long time on the cross. I’ll be here early to supervise her flogging.”

Ut Velis, Tribune” replied the Centurion, right fist to heart.


Lucerna – oil lamp: urna – liquid measure, one half of the standard measure, the amphora quadrantal; secunda vigilia – second watch (of the night, 9 PM to Midnight);
 

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
Morning
Although Marcus Lycus maintained his own house, he kept quarters in the Castra. He fell asleep almost the moment his body hit the bed. He had vivid dreams of Flavia, writhing on the cross.
A sentry knocked on his doorway at gallicinio as he had requested. As was his wont, Marcus sprang from his bed, performed his morning ablutions, and donned his white dress uniform. This would be a special day, he thought.

As he walked across the central aula, Marcus heard and saw the camp coming to life. Morning sentries replacing the night watch; cooks building fires to prepare the breakfast, shouts of centurions rousing their sleeping centuries.
Marcus entered the messroom and saw several men sprawled on the floor. Too much wine, too much sex, too late up at night, thought the Tribune. Two men, alert and standing guard, saluted the officer.
Flavia was where he'd seen her last, on her back on the massive mess table. Her arms and legs were loosely tied to the corners, but, otherwise, she had been left undisturbed, per his orders. Although, undisturbed might be regarded as a misstatement when one saw her bruised and battered body. Dried semen decorated her belly, breasts, and hair.
Marcus came near to enjoy the sensual aspect of the women’s body. Modest breasts with still some firmness of youth, a softly rounded belly capped with a deep, sexy navel, and hips that seemed made for flexing. They would flex in desperate agony soon, he thought.

The Tribune sat on a stool and waited. Over the next fifteen minutes, men wandered in and roused those still sleeping. The Centurion appeared and whipped the motley crew into order. He came over to Lycus. "The men are ready, on your mandatum, Tribune.”
Bene. Put a lumbare on her and march her out to the pila uerbera. She is a non-citizen slave. Therefore, under the lex Sempronia, she may be flogged.”
The men did as Marcus instructed. They untied Flavia, wrapped the tiny rag around her hips, and urged the nearly naked woman out in the open using a spear for a goad.
They fastened manacles on her wrists and raised her arms. The chains were secured to the pillar, forcing her up on her toes. The lictor came and showed the whip he proposed to use—seven long, thin strips of leather, stiff from dried blood, and a foot-long wooden handle. Lycus nodded approval and said, "Twenty good ones on her back. Spread them out, please. I want her to feel the rough wood of the stipes caressing her back.".
Flavia was very groggy from her night of abuse. She shivered in the cool morning air. Only at the last moment did the tired woman become aware of her new situation. She turned her head and saw a burly man, stripped to the waist, shaking out a whip. "No!' She begged. "Please-eeeeessssss-AGH.....," her plea cut off into a scream as the first blow landed on her kidneys.


gallicinius – daybreak, lit. when the cock was crowing; mandatum – order; lumbare – loincloth; pila uerbera – whipping pillar; stipes – upright beam of a cross.
 
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Fossy

Tribune
Morning
Although Marcus Lycus maintained his own house, he kept quarters in the Castra. He fell asleep almost the moment his body hit the bed. He had vivid dreams of Flavia, writhing on the cross.
A sentry knocked on his doorway at gallicinio as he had requested. As was his wont, Marcus sprang from his bed, performed his morning ablutions, and donned his white dress uniform. This would be a special day, he thought.

As he walked across the central aula, Marcus heard and saw the camp coming to life. Morning sentries replacing the night watch; cooks building fires to prepare the breakfast, shouts of centurions rousing their sleeping centuries.
Marcus entered the messroom and saw several men sprawled on the floor. Too much wine, too much sex, too late up at night, thought the Tribune. Two men, alert and standing guard, saluted the officer.
Flavia was where he'd seen her last, on her back on the massive mess table. Her arms and legs were loosely tied to the corners, but, otherwise, she had been left undisturbed, per his orders. Although, undisturbed might be regarded as a misstatement when one saw her bruised and battered body. Dried semen decorated her belly, breasts, and hair.
Marcus came near to enjoy the sensual aspect of the women’s body. Modest breasts with still some firmness of youth, a softly rounded belly capped with a deep, sexy navel, and hips that seemed made for flexing. They would flex in desperate agony soon, he thought.

The Tribune sat on a stool and waited. Over the next fifteen minutes, men wandered in and roused those still sleeping. The Centurion appeared and whipped the motley crew into order. He came over to Lycus. "The men are ready, on your mandatum, Tribune.”
Bene. Put a lumbare on her and march her out to the pila uerbera. She is a non-citizen slave. Therefore, under the lex Sempronia, she may be flogged.”
The men did as Marcus instructed. They untied Flavia, wrapped the tiny rag around her hips, and urged the nearly naked woman out in the open using a spear for a goad.
They fastened manacles on her wrists and raised her arms. The chains were secured to the pillar, forcing her up on her toes. The lictor came and showed the whip he proposed to use—seven long, thin strips of leather, stiff from dried blood, and a foot-long wooden handle. Lycus nodded approval and said, "Twenty good ones on her back. Spread them out, please. I want her to feel the rough wood of the stipes caressing her back.".
Flavia was very groggy from her night of abuse. She shivered in the cool morning air. Only at the last moment did the tired woman become aware of her new situation. She turned her head and saw a burly man, stripped to the waist, shaking out a whip. "No!' She begged. "Please-eeeeessssss-AGH.....," her plea cut off into a scream as the first blow landed on her kidneys.


gallicinius – daybreak, lit. when the cock was crowing; mandatum – order; lumbare – loincloth; pila uerbera – whipping pillar; stipes – upright beam of a cross.
The detail of how Flavia was found 'the morning after', then taken to the post, was damn hot, almost as hot as the image of the tiny rag being tied around her groin ... Excellent!
 

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
Flogging
Felix, like most lictors, a freedman, had been a centurion in the Praetorian guard before becoming the lictor for the III cohort, under Tribune Lycus, four years ago. He had been renowned when a centurion, as a strict disciplinarian. His men nicknamed him alium adducere for his tendency to break rods while caning a soldier.
He knew his job well. The first blow raised several welts across Flavia's lower back. Nineteen to go, he would spread them carefully from her thighs to her shoulders to inflict the maximum pain with only moderate damage. As a former slave, he had extra reason to inflict pain on a haughty Patrician woman.
The pain of the first stroke was unbelievable to Flavia. Never in her life had she felt such. She wailed and twisted on the post until a second stroke was laid on the backs of her shapely thighs. At that, she screamed at the top of her lungs.

Marcus stood with the Centurion, observing the punishment, with no show of emotion. But, inside, he was powerfully excited. He thought this was a very sexy woman, and her reaction to the flogging was most erotic. With only small strips of lumbare on her hips and up her crack, she displayed a wealth of skin for the lictor to abuse. He watched with fascination as her shoulders, back, buttocks, and thighs were slowly covered with agonizing welts as she struggled and begged for mercy.
The gathered garrison was not under the same restraint of command as Marcus. They hurled continual insults and lewd remarks at the beautiful woman, being reduced to a writhing mass of bruised flesh. Of course, they had witnessed many such floggings of a woman and had a substantial repertoire of insults and demeaning remarks.
By the time Felix had finished the twenty, Flavia was drenched in sweat and hanging limply from her wrists. Groaning with the horrible pain radiating from her whole back side, she gave silent thanks that it was over.

After a couple of minutes of a pause for her to rest, two guards approached and twisted her body around. Flavia expected them to let her down. Instead, they tied a rope to her one ankle, passed it behind the post, and tied it to the other, pulling her feet back. Now she could not twist away from the upcoming torture.
“Lictor. Vigenti secundo impone," ordered the Centurion.
"By the Gods, NO!" she screamed.


alium adducere – ‘fetch another; Vigenti secundo impone – Lay on the second twenty.

farp,small,wall_texture,product,750x1000.u1.jpg
 
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Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
Flogging (cont.)
Felix smiled at Flavia’s forlorn plea as he swept the seven heavy leather thongs forward to land on her large, meaty breasts. The woman let loose a high cry of agony as her gourds exploded in pain. It was good to see a Patrician bitch screaming and writhing in pain.
Flavia had thought the whipping on her back the epitome of pain. However, she was now learning that there was worse ahead of her. As the lictor landed blow after blow on her belly, thighs, and, most often, her exposed and sensitive breasts, Flavia was transported to a realm of unimaginable agony. When it was completed, she hardly was aware.

“Prepare the scortillum for her final walk. Bring a lighter patibulum” ordered the Centurion.
Guards advanced and released the manacles, allowing Flavia to collapse on the ground. She curled up in a ball, sobbing and shivering with pain. Shortly, two men came from a storeroom, carrying a five-foot rough-hewn wooden beam. The others lifted Flavia up on her knees and stretched her arms to the side. The beam was placed over her shoulders and the girl screamed as she felt the rough wood press into her beaten flesh. The men pulled her arms to the side and wrapped them up and around the beam before cinching rawhide ties tightly around her wrists and elbows and the beam. When the patibulum had been securely fastened, the two holding it let go and the entire weight fell on the exhausted woman. Unprepared, she bent forward and fell heavily in the dirt on her unprotected face, drawing laughter from the soldiers.
Two grabbed the ends of the beam and lifted her up onto her feet. A third looped a noose around her neck with a long lead. Felix and his apprentice lictor, Titus, grabbed long canes and took position behind Flavia to urge her along on her death march. The Centurion assigned a squad of ten guards as the escort. Two in front to clear the way; three on each side and one guarding behind. The other brought up the rear, carrying the sack of equipment.

Lycus and the Centurion each mounted horses to lead the way. The Porta decumana was opened and the small procession sallied North onto the Via Nomentana, toward the place of execution. It was approaching hora tertia (9 AM).


scortillum - little whore; patibulum – a yoke or the crossbeam of cross. Lighter might be 42 kgs; hora tertia -the third hour

unnamed.jpg
 

Fossy

Tribune
Flogging (cont.)
Felix smiled at Flavia’s forlorn plea as he swept the seven heavy leather thongs forward to land on her large, meaty breasts. The woman let loose a high cry of agony as her gourds exploded in pain. It was good to see a Patrician bitch screaming and writhing in pain.
Flavia had thought the whipping on her back the epitome of pain. However, she was now learning that there was worse ahead of her. As the lictor landed blow after blow on her belly, thighs, and, most often, her exposed and sensitive breasts, Flavia was transported to a realm of unimaginable agony. When it was completed, she hardly was aware.

“Prepare the scortillum for her final walk. Bring a lighter patibulum” ordered the Centurion.
Guards advanced and released the manacles, allowing Flavia to collapse on the ground. She curled up in a ball, sobbing and shivering with pain. Shortly, two men came from a storeroom, carrying a five-foot rough-hewn wooden beam. The others lifted Flavia up on her knees and stretched her arms to the side. The beam was placed over her shoulders and the girl screamed as she felt the rough wood press into her beaten flesh. The men pulled her arms to the side and wrapped them up and around the beam before cinching rawhide ties tightly around her wrists and elbows and the beam. When the patibulum had been securely fastened, the two holding it let go and the entire weight fell on the exhausted woman. Unprepared, she bent forward and fell heavily in the dirt on her unprotected face, drawing laughter from the soldiers.
Two grabbed the ends of the beam and lifted her up onto her feet. A third looped a noose around her neck with a long lead. Felix and his apprentice lictor, Titus, grabbed long canes and took position behind Flavia to urge her along on her death march. The Centurion assigned a squad of ten guards as the escort. Two in front to clear the way; three on each side and one guarding behind. The other brought up the rear, carrying the sack of equipment.

Lycus and the Centurion each mounted horses to lead the way. The Porta decumana was opened and the small procession sallied North onto the Via Nomentana, toward the place of execution. It was approaching hora tertia (9 AM).


scortillum - little whore; patibulum – a yoke or the crossbeam of cross. Lighter might be 42 kgs; hora tertia -the third hour

View attachment 929269
Apart from the excellently described, stimulating torture and dominance being exerted upon Flavia I am finding this also very educational. By the time I reach the end, and despite the relatively short length of the episodes, I have always flipped out into google several times to already look up the Latin words that are then explained for me in the glossary! Looking very much forward to the 'mounting'
 

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
Death March
The sun was still low and without warmth in the eastern sky as they turned right on the Via Nomentana. The early November morning retained its chill. Lining the way were many pinus, with their tall, thin trunks and wide-spread, umbrella-like canopies. The health of the trees, sacred to the goddess Cybele, was said to foretell the future of Rome. This morning, with copious hanging of pine nuts, the future looked bright.
Despite being nearly naked, the woman was already sweating from the exertion and the fear. Stumbling along on the old road's hard cobblestones, Flavia was blinded by the bright sun directly ahead of her. She dared not fall – her cheek still stung, and she felt blood dripping down to her chin from her first fall.

The procession at first moved slowly, and the route was initially downhill (the Castra Praetoria was set on one of the highest elevations in all the environs of Rome). The easy slope allowed the girl to keep up with the man holding the leash to her noose. But she bent at the waist under the massive load of the patibulum. Panting, struggling to keep putting one foot before the other, she felt the rough wood dig into the welts on her shoulders. She wasn't sure how much further she could go.
A spattering of spectators gathered by the side of the road to watch the condemned walk. They lingered perhaps a little longer than usual when they saw a beautiful, shapely woman being taken to her torturous death. Some walked along beside her, eagerly waiting for the first strokes to move her along.
Marcus Lycus sat tall on his white horse (picked to match his white dress uniform). It was another moment of triumph for the low-born plebian to lead a women who had carried the proudest Patrician name as she marched to her slave’s death. He looked back and saw her struggling to keep up. Her steps were becoming unsure as she wandered back and forth on the path. Marcus looked back ahead and saw only another sexaginta passus to where the stakes rose ominously by the roadside. A good time to show Flavia another nasty aspect of her execution. “Milites, exsequíminī,” he ordered as he goaded his horse a bit faster. The men did as told and so, marching faster, drew the leash tight in Flavia’s delicate neck. She tried to place her feet more quickly, but she was already finding it difficult to move. A few paces further on, she stumbled, and, crying out in fear, she pitched forward. Seeing the hard road approaching, Flavia tried straightening up and protecting her face. She only partially succeeded, impacting hard on the ground with her chest, right shoulder, and face.


pinus – stone pines; sexaginta passus – sixty paces (300 feet); milites – soldiers (voc.); exsequíminī – keep up, follow closely (imp.).

DSCF2132.jpg
Stone Pines lining a Roman Road
maxresdefault.jpgPraetorians on the march
 
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Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
Final Steps
As Flavia, her head spinning from the impact with the stones, lay groaning on the ground, Felix and Titus stepped up eagerly to play their part in the cruel drama. They each laid their cane into her butt without mercy. Flavia, helpless on the road, screamed with pain.
After a half-dozen hard cane strokes had landed, the Centurion, knowing Flavia had no way to pull herself up off the ground, ordered the soldiers to lift the beam and get her to her feet. Once she was up, her leash was jerked forward, and the two lictors again punished her sore and bleeding buttocks.

The suffering woman staggered forward unsteadily as her noose tightened, and her rear screamed in pain. Among the onlookers, cruel boys, seeing the abuse meted out by the soldiers, took permission to inflict their attacks and humiliation on this sexy woman. They grabbed small, sharp stones from the gutters and ran along beside, yelling obscene insults at Flavia and aiming the stones at her bleeding body. Several bleeding wounds were opened on her flanks, and one stone impacted her left nipple so hard she thought it was cut off. Only viginti passus (100 feet) from the place of execution, the struggling woman again stumbled and fell, painfully, onto her knees.
As the two lictors jumped to rain cane blows on her back and buttocks, the Centurion refrained from ordering help. He knew she could rise from her knees if she tried hard enough. “Exurge scortillum!" he called. Several more cutting blows from the canes provided Flavia with the strength to force herself to her feet.

The grim procession resumed and soon halted by the four forbidding stipites flanking the road.
Lycus and the Centurion dismounted and gave their horses to a man to hold. Two other men grabbed the patibulum, turned Flavia toward the officers, and raised the beam, so she stood straight facing them. Marcus noted the bleeding cut on her right cheek and a dark blue bruise developing on her forehead. Her right shoulder was also bruised, and her right breast bore nasty scratches from hitting the ground. Her left nipple was bleeding freely. All this was in addition to the many welts from her flogging.
Flavia’s hair hung forward, damp with sweat and framing her still lovely face. Her eyes looked pleadingly at the men who controlled her fate.

Denudite eam.” Marcus ordered. The guards swiftly snatched away the lumbare, leaving Flavia completely naked.

“Crucifigete eam.” Marcus issued the final decree for her death.


exurge – stand up (imp.); stipites – stakes, upright beams of crosses; denudite eam – make her naked, strip her (imp.); crucifigete eam – crucify her.
 

Fossy

Tribune
Final Steps
As Flavia, her head spinning from the impact with the stones, lay groaning on the ground, Felix and Titus stepped up eagerly to play their part in the cruel drama. They each laid their cane into her butt without mercy. Flavia, helpless on the road, screamed with pain.
After a half-dozen hard cane strokes had landed, the Centurion, knowing Flavia had no way to pull herself up off the ground, ordered the soldiers to lift the beam and get her to her feet. Once she was up, her leash was jerked forward, and the two lictors again punished her sore and bleeding buttocks.

The suffering woman staggered forward unsteadily as her noose tightened, and her rear screamed in pain. Among the onlookers, cruel boys, seeing the abuse meted out by the soldiers, took permission to inflict their attacks and humiliation on this sexy woman. They grabbed small, sharp stones from the gutters and ran along beside, yelling obscene insults at Flavia and aiming the stones at her bleeding body. Several bleeding wounds were opened on her flanks, and one stone impacted her left nipple so hard she thought it was cut off. Only viginti passus (100 feet) from the place of execution, the struggling woman again stumbled and fell, painfully, onto her knees.
As the two lictors jumped to rain cane blows on her back and buttocks, the Centurion refrained from ordering help. He knew she could rise from her knees if she tried hard enough. “Exurge scortillum!" he called. Several more cutting blows from the canes provided Flavia with the strength to force herself to her feet.

The grim procession resumed and soon halted by the four forbidding stipites flanking the road.
Lycus and the Centurion dismounted and gave their horses to a man to hold. Two other men grabbed the patibulum, turned Flavia toward the officers, and raised the beam, so she stood straight facing them. Marcus noted the bleeding cut on her right cheek and a dark blue bruise developing on her forehead. Her right shoulder was also bruised, and her right breast bore nasty scratches from hitting the ground. Her left nipple was bleeding freely. All this was in addition to the many welts from her flogging.
Flavia’s hair hung forward, damp with sweat and framing her still lovely face. Her eyes looked pleadingly at the men who controlled her fate.

Denudite eam.” Marcus ordered. The guards swiftly snatched away the lumbare, leaving Flavia completely naked.

“Crucifigete eam.” Marcus issued the final decree for her death.


exurge – stand up (imp.); stipites – stakes, upright beams of crosses; denudite eam – make her naked, strip her (imp.); crucifigete eam – crucify her.
Love this ... “Denudite eam.” Marcus ordered. The guards swiftly snatched away the lumbare, leaving Flavia completely naked."
 

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
It certainly helps to bring a sense of reality to the proceedings, but if the last time you studied Latin was 1952 it can be a bit taxing(thang heavens for the translations)
Fortunately, I'm a young whippersnapper compared to you. I last studied Latin Freshman year in College in 1967.

Also, fortunately, it appears the @Eulalia is away for a few days. So I avoid having my knuckles rapped with a wooden ruler for my sophomoric Latin errors, at least for now. :eek:
 
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Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
Nailed

The men pulled Flavia over to the base of one of the stipites and laid her on her back on the ground. They undid the rawhide ties, repositioned her arms along the patibulum, and then retied the straps tightly to her wrists. The man who had followed behind with the tools came forward and handed a hammer and two large, rough iron spikes to the soldier in charge. He, in turn, ordered two others to sit on her legs. That was regarded as a prime assignment as they both were able to feel through her legs the mind-rending agony of the nailing as well as having the best view of her cunt, belly, and breasts jerking at the pain.

The man in charge knelt by Flavia's right arm. The fair skin and delicate curve of her arm was that of an attractive women. The man savored the sight. In a few moments, that loveliness would be destroyed, and it would be little better than a piece of meat, hung on a hook. He placed the spike's point on her wrist, centered between the bones and avoiding the main artery; he knew his job well. He paused for a moment, enjoying this sexy bitch's pleas for mercy. He always enjoyed seeing a pretty woman suffer on the cross. And this one was prettier than most.

Then he raised the heavy iron hammer and brought it down on the head of the spike. The point drove through her wrist and a half-inch into the wood. The point of no return had passed.
Flavia sucked in a breath in an involuntary reaction to the electric pain shooting down her arm. Her midsection heaved, giving the men on her legs the erotic display they had been so eagerly anticipating. Flavia let loose a piercing scream at the top of her lungs.

Marcus Lycus heard her agonized cry and smiled. Another proud woman brought low!
 
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