Cella
Spectator
Emily continues to stroke Barbaria's clit as Barbaria's breathing becomes deeper and faster. The girls' lips are locked in passionate embrace. Barbaria's body tenses, then shakes uncontrollably as she has a massive orgasm, right in the middle of the street. The crowd roars in approval.
Emily holds Barbaria close as her orgasm pulses through her. She feels terrible about this! She's using her skill as a whore, as well as her influence over Barbaria as a former lover, to encourage her to continue marching towards her death! The conflict in her mind makes her feel like a traitor to Barbaria. She's even lied to her! But there is nothing she can do. She must help the soldiers or she might wind up on a cross herself! That's too horrible to think about! No! She must look to her own welfare here. Barbaria is a good as dead anyway. She will be crucified with or without my help. Better that I get something out of it. Emily realizes she's reasoning very dishonorably here. But she knows she was not involved in the murder scheme. Barbaria claims she is innocent -- and she might well be -- but it doesn't matter now. Emily knows she is not willing to die next to her former lover. Barbaria would understand why she's doing what she's doing. Of course she would. Wouldn't anybody?
Emily helps Barbaria to her feet. Barbaria's legs are wobbling as much from her massive orgasm as from the stress of standing bent over with a heavy plank across her back. She looks into Emily's eyes and cries as she remembers the love they shared before these horrible, untrue, baseless accusations were made. She is so overwhelmed with emotion that she barely notices that Emily's delicate, quick fingers have slipped a slender rope around her neck.
Barbaria's eyes blink, then open wide in disbelief.
"Why are you doing this?" She asks of Emily. Her eyes, overflowing now with tears, stare at Emily. Emily does not return her gaze.
Emily's hand raises Barbaria's head by the chin, as her other hands tweaks a nipple. The surge of pleasure mixes with the sudden pain of betrayal.
"It's for your own good, my dear." Emily explains as she continues to roll Barbaria's tumescent nipple between her fingers. Barbaria's whole body begins to quiver in response. Emily gives Barbaria one, last, passionate kiss. "I'm so sorry my darling, but it is what must be."
Emily ties a longer length of rope to the piece around her neck. Barbaria stands, utterly disbelievingly, as Emily steps back with the length of rope increasing between them. The distance representing, in Barbaria's mind, the separation between them as former lovers and friends. As well as the change in status. The slave becomes the owner, in a sense. Barbaria burns with the betrayal. She never treated Emily as a slave -- she was her lover, her confidant, her best friend!
Why? Why? is all she can ask as her former lover leads her down the road by a rope around her neck. Leading her to her crucifixion!
Emily's ears burn as she hears Barbaria's repeated questions. She understands she has betrayed Barbaria. She should probably hang on a cross herself for this, she thinks. She knows she deserves it. She wishes she had the character for it.
But a girl has to look out for herself in this cold, cruel world. Love be damned . . .
Emily holds Barbaria close as her orgasm pulses through her. She feels terrible about this! She's using her skill as a whore, as well as her influence over Barbaria as a former lover, to encourage her to continue marching towards her death! The conflict in her mind makes her feel like a traitor to Barbaria. She's even lied to her! But there is nothing she can do. She must help the soldiers or she might wind up on a cross herself! That's too horrible to think about! No! She must look to her own welfare here. Barbaria is a good as dead anyway. She will be crucified with or without my help. Better that I get something out of it. Emily realizes she's reasoning very dishonorably here. But she knows she was not involved in the murder scheme. Barbaria claims she is innocent -- and she might well be -- but it doesn't matter now. Emily knows she is not willing to die next to her former lover. Barbaria would understand why she's doing what she's doing. Of course she would. Wouldn't anybody?
Emily helps Barbaria to her feet. Barbaria's legs are wobbling as much from her massive orgasm as from the stress of standing bent over with a heavy plank across her back. She looks into Emily's eyes and cries as she remembers the love they shared before these horrible, untrue, baseless accusations were made. She is so overwhelmed with emotion that she barely notices that Emily's delicate, quick fingers have slipped a slender rope around her neck.Barbaria's eyes blink, then open wide in disbelief.
"Why are you doing this?" She asks of Emily. Her eyes, overflowing now with tears, stare at Emily. Emily does not return her gaze. Emily's hand raises Barbaria's head by the chin, as her other hands tweaks a nipple. The surge of pleasure mixes with the sudden pain of betrayal.
"It's for your own good, my dear." Emily explains as she continues to roll Barbaria's tumescent nipple between her fingers. Barbaria's whole body begins to quiver in response. Emily gives Barbaria one, last, passionate kiss. "I'm so sorry my darling, but it is what must be."
Emily ties a longer length of rope to the piece around her neck. Barbaria stands, utterly disbelievingly, as Emily steps back with the length of rope increasing between them. The distance representing, in Barbaria's mind, the separation between them as former lovers and friends. As well as the change in status. The slave becomes the owner, in a sense. Barbaria burns with the betrayal. She never treated Emily as a slave -- she was her lover, her confidant, her best friend! Why? Why? is all she can ask as her former lover leads her down the road by a rope around her neck. Leading her to her crucifixion!Emily's ears burn as she hears Barbaria's repeated questions. She understands she has betrayed Barbaria. She should probably hang on a cross herself for this, she thinks. She knows she deserves it. She wishes she had the character for it.
But a girl has to look out for herself in this cold, cruel world. Love be damned . . .
Last edited:
