Red Sonja tortured and cruxed

[Edgar Nightbird]

Red Sonja was hung up in the town square. This time she didn't make it out in time before the soldiers got to her. You watch the legendary warrioress in fascination.

 

[Edgar Nightbird]

You walk closer... she looks magnificent.

 

[Edgar Nightbird]

You remember what she looked like when she positioned herself for the flogging...

 

[Edgar Nightbird]

...and when she readied herself for the nailing... showing her bravery to the end.

 

[Danillegs]

Great, fantastic , sublime. Continue to torture her please !!!

 

[Edgar Nightbird]

First, of course, she had been put on public display for the townsfolks' amusement, forced to endure their ridicule and scorn. Some people spat on her, or beat her with sticks as they passed by, besmirching her with curses and slurs. Sonja was in no condition to fight back, but just had to stand there and take the abuse.

 

[Edgar Nightbird]

She took her flogging well, without crying out once. But you'll never forget that look in her eyes.

 

[Edgar Nightbird]

For her insolence, she was strung up again for another round of public whipping. This time she could not hold back a strained cry as her muscular back was ravaged.

 

[Edgar Nightbird]

You let your mind drift back to the present... As the moon rose on Sonja's first night on the wood, her earlier cockiness had melted into resigned quietude.

 

[Edgar Nightbird]

The next day you eagerly returned to the town square to see how the red-haired maiden fared. To your surprise, you found her very much alive. You also noticed that the guards had released her feet so that she could bear her weight on more than just her nailed wrists. Apparently, a new spectacle was about to be presented, putting the audience in a mood of giddy anticipation.

 

[Edgar Nightbird]

You could see that, although temporarily released from her foot nails, Sonja was not granted any relief from her suffering. If anything her pain seemed amplified as her body writhed and contorted on the cross.

 

[Edgar Nightbird]

...perhaps in part because she now had to stretch her arms in a wide V to reach her toes to the wooden platform below for that coveted support, allowing her even a minute reprieve for her screaming wrists. You could not help but watch her desperate struggles with perverse delight.

 

[Edgar Nightbird]

You stood back as four sturdy guards approached, reaching up to pull the nails from Sonja's wrists to the accompaniment of her piercing screams. They were not gentle about it, giving her little time to recover as she was made to stand before the high Judge Khallas himself. Distracted by the enthralling show, you had not noticed the judge's entourage approach behind you. The swarthy, heavyset man carried in his hand a metal bucket containing a crimson dye. As Sonja fought to stand on quaking legs before the gathered crowd, enduring their ceaseless scorn, Khallas dipped a long brush into the bucket and proceeded to draw its coarse bristles across Sonja's sweaty, pale skin. He painted two crude lines on each swaying breast and another directly over her heart, the strokes crossing in bright red, marking her as a traitor to the crown.

 

[serval1664]

excellent !!!

 

[thecuriousone]

I find no nail at all in any pic?

 

[Edgar Nightbird]

Suddenly, a surge of fear passed through the gathered crowd as Sonja sprang into action, bolstering a brave attack against her captors. Had they made a terrible mistake letting her loose, even for a moment? It would seem she had conserved her energy for this desperate chance to break free. But it was a futile attempt. Within heartbeats, the four sturdy guards brought her down with mailed fists pummeling her already battered body and face into submission. The crowd released a collective breath of relief, laughing at their own cowardly reaction as Sonja was once more brought under control. You chuckle nervously as well, putting to memory the fierce beauty of the captive warrioress' struggle.

 

[Edgar Nightbird]

Defeated, Sonja backed herself up against the rough wood, hands raised in supplication. But her silly outburst would not go unpunished...

 

[Edgar Nightbird]

From your place below the raised platform, you looked up at Sonja in awe. She was truly magnificent. Her power, grace, and beauty smeared in blood and shame. The dichotomy was captivating. You could not take your eyes away even for a heartbeat.

 

[Edgar Nightbird]

Then the guards sprang into action. As one, they grabbed the convicted, two to each arm, and dragged her over to a stone block further back on the stage. Slamming her right arm down onto the stone with enough force to stun it, her elbow was bent over the edge in the wrong direction. With three guards holding her down, the fourth wrenched her arm downward using his full weight, and with a sickening crack the joint broke, leaving her muscled arm hanging limp at an unnatural angle. Sonja's screams echoed across the town square, torn from deep within her chest, eclipsing the excited murmurs of the bloodthirsty crowd. On the other side of the block, her left arm was treated the same. Another loud snap followed, and it dangled limp and useless at her side. No more would Red Sonja wield a sword into battle, her famed skill robbed of her with cruel spite.

 

[Edgar Nightbird]

In mockery, the guards put her bracers back on and slammed her body up against the cross once more. Twisting her broken arms around, they nailed them up backwards and spat insults at her. "Let's see you fight now, insolent wench!" ... "Know your place, red whore!"