Love this pic … the expression on her face says it all …
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Scum from the Steppes
- Thread starter Peony
- Start date
cynthia the inocent
Tribune
Very well written
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Scum from the Steppes – Chapter 24
Hirene was not ready when Tiberius’ guard came for her. She was ready for death, she craved it to some extent, but she was not ready for the horrors that such a death that had been promised would bestow upon her.
“Please,” she looked up into the face of one guard, “Kill me now, here with a swift cut to my throat and before that I will give you the greatest few minutes of pleasure you have ever experienced …
The man laughed, hit her hard around the face and then threw her to the ground whereupon he climbed between her thighs and raped her.
“Thank you for the pleasure whore,” he laughed following the perfunctory few thrusts that enabled him to spill his seed, now come with us, you have an appointment with death.
******
Naked, with her arms bound, Hirene was led out into the slave yard where the entire household, both the seated patricians and the standing staff, were assembled to witness the poor girl’s demise.
A stout wooden post had been driven into the stony, sandy ground to the height of her waist. Set into the top of the post was an iron ring. Taking a long length of cord, the thickness of a little finger, the guard passed it through the ring and drew the ends out to equal lengths.
The condemned girl was then made to stand against the harsh wood, facing the crowd, as the cord was passed between her legs, biting deep into her cum soaked slit, and drawn up behind her, separated to pass around her waist, and then once again, passed through the ring.
Hirene was then hauled up on the cord, stretching her onto the balls of her feet in cruel discomfort and drawing her hard against the post. The binding was then securely fastened, it served also to bind her wrists firmly to the iron ring.
“Oh, my gods, please have mercy …” she uttered and, in an instant, great sounds of derision were hurtled forth at her … she was greatly distressed by this, and very fearful, as she watched a second guard approach with three sharpened pitch forks, their handles replaced with wide, flat bases to ensure they remained upright.
The audience cheered when each guard took a fork and, pulling Hirene’s bound body a little higher, slipped the forks into position such that their sharp teeth bit hard into the lithe, firm flesh that now rested upon them.
“Noooooooo!” Her pathetic cries sounded loud and shrill as they released their hold upon her body, so that she pushed with all her weight against the piercing teeth of the forks.
But if she thought that hurt, when a similar fork, but positioned length ways to match the opening of her cunt slit, was slipped between her thighs, and the invasive prongs penetrated her core, Hirene realised what true pain really was.
Even before the flogging had started, the exhausted girl was sliding further onto the heinous tools, much to the delight of the watching crowd.
Then a third man, one skilled with the whip, stood before her and silently regarded Tiberius, until the senior Roman Officer said, simply … “begin”.
The lash was made of plaited leather. The whip wielder placed himself behind the girl where he could strike the entire length of her rear body.
Silence reigned.
Then she heard a whistle, and then …
… she heard the hiss of leather. But her reactions were too slow to take heed of it before it struck her squarely across her bare, exposed back.
“Aiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!” She screamed, she couldn’t help it, as the lash kissed hard at her flesh, raking and gouging. Unbearable lines of fire raced down her back to the tips of her toes, flamed up through her arms to her fingernails and into her brain where it exploded in a burst of sparks.
Such pain made her writhe and in doing so Hirene pushed harder against all three of the sharpened forks, causing a second wave of even more acute agony to permeate throughout her body.
The whip-master waited until the cheers of the crowd had ebbed and the girl’s sobs had died away, and then he struck out for a second time … The lash cut deep into her lower back and once more Hirene cried out first through the pain of the lash, and secondly because her squirming had driven the sharp teeth through the flesh and into the muscle and sinews, to open her skin and sink into her body …
“Oh gods, please let me die …” the unfortunate wretch of a girl begged as a third, and harder, stroke fell onto her flesh, cutting like fire into her very bones … driving the fork teeth a little further into her. Blood was now dripping from each tortured breast and running copiously down her thighs as her cunt was so brutally opened …
******
Hirene received fifty lashes in all. By the time the flogging was over she was lost to the world, senseless, unconscious as blood and sand, mixed into a gooey paste, coated her feet, dripped in thick lines from her breasts, and stained the entirety of her inner thighs. The forks were embedded into her body, wounding her, mortally so, but not in a fashion that would bring about a quick death … not at all.
And so, it was a blessed relief that, when she was cut down from the post and removed from the penetrative forks, Hirene was not awake to see the four large horses being brought into the yard …
To Be Continued …
Hirene was not ready when Tiberius’ guard came for her. She was ready for death, she craved it to some extent, but she was not ready for the horrors that such a death that had been promised would bestow upon her.
“Please,” she looked up into the face of one guard, “Kill me now, here with a swift cut to my throat and before that I will give you the greatest few minutes of pleasure you have ever experienced …
The man laughed, hit her hard around the face and then threw her to the ground whereupon he climbed between her thighs and raped her.
“Thank you for the pleasure whore,” he laughed following the perfunctory few thrusts that enabled him to spill his seed, now come with us, you have an appointment with death.
******
Naked, with her arms bound, Hirene was led out into the slave yard where the entire household, both the seated patricians and the standing staff, were assembled to witness the poor girl’s demise.
A stout wooden post had been driven into the stony, sandy ground to the height of her waist. Set into the top of the post was an iron ring. Taking a long length of cord, the thickness of a little finger, the guard passed it through the ring and drew the ends out to equal lengths.
The condemned girl was then made to stand against the harsh wood, facing the crowd, as the cord was passed between her legs, biting deep into her cum soaked slit, and drawn up behind her, separated to pass around her waist, and then once again, passed through the ring.
Hirene was then hauled up on the cord, stretching her onto the balls of her feet in cruel discomfort and drawing her hard against the post. The binding was then securely fastened, it served also to bind her wrists firmly to the iron ring.
“Oh, my gods, please have mercy …” she uttered and, in an instant, great sounds of derision were hurtled forth at her … she was greatly distressed by this, and very fearful, as she watched a second guard approach with three sharpened pitch forks, their handles replaced with wide, flat bases to ensure they remained upright.
The audience cheered when each guard took a fork and, pulling Hirene’s bound body a little higher, slipped the forks into position such that their sharp teeth bit hard into the lithe, firm flesh that now rested upon them.
“Noooooooo!” Her pathetic cries sounded loud and shrill as they released their hold upon her body, so that she pushed with all her weight against the piercing teeth of the forks.
But if she thought that hurt, when a similar fork, but positioned length ways to match the opening of her cunt slit, was slipped between her thighs, and the invasive prongs penetrated her core, Hirene realised what true pain really was.
Even before the flogging had started, the exhausted girl was sliding further onto the heinous tools, much to the delight of the watching crowd.
Then a third man, one skilled with the whip, stood before her and silently regarded Tiberius, until the senior Roman Officer said, simply … “begin”.
The lash was made of plaited leather. The whip wielder placed himself behind the girl where he could strike the entire length of her rear body.
Silence reigned.
Then she heard a whistle, and then …
… she heard the hiss of leather. But her reactions were too slow to take heed of it before it struck her squarely across her bare, exposed back.
“Aiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!” She screamed, she couldn’t help it, as the lash kissed hard at her flesh, raking and gouging. Unbearable lines of fire raced down her back to the tips of her toes, flamed up through her arms to her fingernails and into her brain where it exploded in a burst of sparks.
Such pain made her writhe and in doing so Hirene pushed harder against all three of the sharpened forks, causing a second wave of even more acute agony to permeate throughout her body.
The whip-master waited until the cheers of the crowd had ebbed and the girl’s sobs had died away, and then he struck out for a second time … The lash cut deep into her lower back and once more Hirene cried out first through the pain of the lash, and secondly because her squirming had driven the sharp teeth through the flesh and into the muscle and sinews, to open her skin and sink into her body …
“Oh gods, please let me die …” the unfortunate wretch of a girl begged as a third, and harder, stroke fell onto her flesh, cutting like fire into her very bones … driving the fork teeth a little further into her. Blood was now dripping from each tortured breast and running copiously down her thighs as her cunt was so brutally opened …
******
Hirene received fifty lashes in all. By the time the flogging was over she was lost to the world, senseless, unconscious as blood and sand, mixed into a gooey paste, coated her feet, dripped in thick lines from her breasts, and stained the entirety of her inner thighs. The forks were embedded into her body, wounding her, mortally so, but not in a fashion that would bring about a quick death … not at all.
And so, it was a blessed relief that, when she was cut down from the post and removed from the penetrative forks, Hirene was not awake to see the four large horses being brought into the yard …
To Be Continued …
Peony
Magistrate
Scum from the Steppes – Chapter 25
I know it's useless, but I ask him to slit my throat. To end it. What can I promise him when he can take whatever he wants anyway? And he does.
And now I am here. Tied to the post. Facing the crowd. Naked. Still leaking his cum.
And now they raise me higher so the rope cuts into my sex.
And now they come with the forks.
And now they place them so my poor tormented breasts are bitten into.
And now they let me slip, so the forks pierce me.
It is so awful!
Why cannot they just kill me? I know why. She wants to watch me like this. It pleasures her.
I want to die now!
And now the third fork. It was what they promised. Into my sex. I have to settle onto it. It reaches into me.
She could never know how this hurts!
I want to die now!
And now they will whip me. And they do. And my body shakes and I moan and scream and each movement pushes the forks further into my poor tormented flesh.
They're killing me so slowly! I just want to die! I just want to join Elyssa!
LET ME DIE!
I cannot count. It is many blows.
They release me to the stony, sandy ground. I am so hurt. I will bleed to death if they leave me... I will slowly drift from pain to unconsciousness... But I remember the sentence and I know that they will not leave me. They have more to do to my poor body.... They want me to suffer more...
But then it will be over.
I have to endure....Half a passing hour? An hour? I do not know. But I know it will end...
I want this to end! I want... I want this to end... I don't want them to quarter me... I have suffered enough. Just for being a slave girl, just for obeying my master. Can any girl ever suffer more?
LET ME DIE!
I know it's useless, but I ask him to slit my throat. To end it. What can I promise him when he can take whatever he wants anyway? And he does.
And now I am here. Tied to the post. Facing the crowd. Naked. Still leaking his cum.
And now they raise me higher so the rope cuts into my sex.
And now they come with the forks.
And now they place them so my poor tormented breasts are bitten into.
And now they let me slip, so the forks pierce me.
It is so awful!
Why cannot they just kill me? I know why. She wants to watch me like this. It pleasures her.
I want to die now!
And now the third fork. It was what they promised. Into my sex. I have to settle onto it. It reaches into me.
She could never know how this hurts!
I want to die now!
And now they will whip me. And they do. And my body shakes and I moan and scream and each movement pushes the forks further into my poor tormented flesh.
They're killing me so slowly! I just want to die! I just want to join Elyssa!
LET ME DIE!
I cannot count. It is many blows.
They release me to the stony, sandy ground. I am so hurt. I will bleed to death if they leave me... I will slowly drift from pain to unconsciousness... But I remember the sentence and I know that they will not leave me. They have more to do to my poor body.... They want me to suffer more...
But then it will be over.
I have to endure....Half a passing hour? An hour? I do not know. But I know it will end...
I want this to end! I want... I want this to end... I don't want them to quarter me... I have suffered enough. Just for being a slave girl, just for obeying my master. Can any girl ever suffer more?
LET ME DIE!
settantuno
MUTUS PICTOR
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Wow thanks Set ... what superb art!
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Scum from the Steppes – Chapter 26
Quite how conscious Hirene was when the four great equine beasts were paraded around the yard, only she can tell you, but it is true to say that as a so-called physician applied a sweet and sour mix of honey and vinegar wrapped in spider’s webs to stem the bleeding, she moved not a single muscle. Whether she even knew that someone was attending to her or not is equally uncertain, but what everyone else in the small arena knew was that any ministrations were not for her well-being, but to simply ensure that she was sentient and as aware as possible of the ultimate horrors about to be performed on her already broken body.
“Enough,” shouted out Aemilia dismissing the quack doctor with a wave of her hand, clearly impatient to get on with proceedings. “Shall we have one of those huge horses fuck her before we tear her apart my dear?”
Tiberius glanced at his wife and knew full well that she was being very serious, and so he chose wisely to avoid giving an answer.
Then, to a loud cheer from the crowd, it began.
Hirene’s arms and legs were pulled to their full length for an attending guard to tie them with stout ropes, one to each ankle and others to both of her wrists. She was spreadeagled in position, flat on her beaten back …
The energy of excitement at the tortuous perversion that was about to occur, was tangible, as the long loose ends of the ties were pulled out wide from her body by four separate guards, who then each guided one of the horses to reverse trot into a space where the ropes could then be secured to a saddle harness strapped to the back of each steed.
Then with bizarre surprise and great, purposeful effort, Hirene turned her head to the side and gazed upon the yard. We can only imagine what she saw through glazed eyes, and the agonies that affronted her body, but for a short time she seemed to be watching proceedings unfold from this position of pain and discomfort.
Then there was a shout and each horse, in time together, was marshalled forward just enough to draw the ropes tighter, causing a guttural groan to emanate from the bound girl’s damaged form, and her joints moved as she convulsed, not once, but several times. She was to be torn apart limb from limb and it had begun.
… and the crowd cheered.
Immediately the four ropes holding her wrists and ankles came alive and slowly began to put tension on the lines pulling the captive girl’s arms and legs painfully away from her torso!
“Look at her nipples, Tiberius, they are hard and that bloody slit looks so wet and needy.”
The seemingly limitless sexual desire for bloody torture amazed even Tiberius, but he could see how much this scene was already exciting his wife, and knew that once the girl had been torn asunder, he would be taking Aemilia back to their bedroom.
But for now, they were here watching as slowly but very surely the ropes were pulled ever tighter, stretching Hirene’s naked body into a taut spread-eagle on the stones and sand.
“Rip the bitch apart!”
“Can I take her cunt home with me?”
“Make the whore scream!”
The watching spectators wanted more blood and they were about to get it!
Then she was free of the ground, the whole weight of her body now borne by the ropes and from somewhere Hirene, so recently the beautiful bed partner of the great Tiberius Claudius Maximus, found the inner strength to scream out the pains of her agony and the new terror that engulfed her.
With very commendable horsemanship, each guard guided the four horses slowly forwards. As each hoof was placed on the stony floor another few inches of tension was applied to the rope, every equid step accompanied by a gasp from the awestruck crowd, as Hirene’s once nubile and gorgeous body was slowly being pulled apart in a fiendish, almost mechanical, manner.
The bound captive screamed again, as muscles tore, tendons snapped and sinews were at the very point of breaking. She was drawn so very tight already that the poor girl was parallel to the ground, suspended between the horses, her groin and bloody pussy thrusting grotesquely upwards …
“Please … help … me!” She yelled again, her voice shrill and piercing as from somewhere the tormented girl found the resolve to cry out.
The crowd though, was now awestruck into silence …
Tiberius felt his wife’s hand slide over his groin to grip the hard length that had formed under the reams of Toga material that he wore.
He gasped and she giggled, whilst Hirene’s arms were being slowly torn from the shoulder sockets, ligaments and tendons were snapping in agonised and surprisingly loud ruptures, just as her lovely thighs were being slowly pulled from their hip sockets. Never stopping, the horses continued their interminable journey, pulling step by atrocious step … Hirene’s flesh began to tear, crimson rivers flowing to the ground below her suspended figure, her cries frantic and excruciating as snot poured from her nose, blood and saliva from her mouth and tears from her eyes, perspiration making every tortured pore glisten in the heat of the sun.
The crowd were dumbstruck. All that could be heard was the whinnying of the steeds as their labours became increasingly more taxing. But, under expert supervision from the guards, ever onwards they walked, and then upon the issuing of a resounding yell that combined with a sharp crack of a horse whip to each flanked hide, the horses slipped from a walk into a trot …
There was no time for Hirene to make a sound as her left arm was torn free followed almost immediately by her right, and they hung from the ropes to her torso held in situ only by the last vestiges of muscles, until just a few seconds later her legs were ripped from their hip sockets, and the remains of her torso fell to the ground with a sickening thump.
Blood oozed from her body, spurting in great fountains as her torn carcass lay prostrate, and the horses trotted free, each beast with a torn and bloody limb trailing behind it.
But as Aemilia rose from her seat and approached the death scene, it became apparent that the limbless body of this concubine slut, was not yet a cadaver. In fact, she was still conscious, her eyes looking up at Tiberius’ wife as she loomed over the bloody mass of flesh.
With a degenerate and debauched pleasure grinning from her lips, Aemilia reached down to the stumps of Hirene’s hips and cupped the remains of her bloody pussy. In her hand she held a stick of wood that had been run through with nails.
“Look at you now concubine,” she mocked, and then slowly pushed the stick between the remnants of the dying girl’s labia and deep into her body.
Then she stood, spat down on her wretched victim, turned and walked back to her husband.
Hirene convulsed and jerked her reduced torso, looking like a flapping fish out of water, before peace claimed her.
It was done.
Quite how conscious Hirene was when the four great equine beasts were paraded around the yard, only she can tell you, but it is true to say that as a so-called physician applied a sweet and sour mix of honey and vinegar wrapped in spider’s webs to stem the bleeding, she moved not a single muscle. Whether she even knew that someone was attending to her or not is equally uncertain, but what everyone else in the small arena knew was that any ministrations were not for her well-being, but to simply ensure that she was sentient and as aware as possible of the ultimate horrors about to be performed on her already broken body.
“Enough,” shouted out Aemilia dismissing the quack doctor with a wave of her hand, clearly impatient to get on with proceedings. “Shall we have one of those huge horses fuck her before we tear her apart my dear?”
Tiberius glanced at his wife and knew full well that she was being very serious, and so he chose wisely to avoid giving an answer.
Then, to a loud cheer from the crowd, it began.
Hirene’s arms and legs were pulled to their full length for an attending guard to tie them with stout ropes, one to each ankle and others to both of her wrists. She was spreadeagled in position, flat on her beaten back …
The energy of excitement at the tortuous perversion that was about to occur, was tangible, as the long loose ends of the ties were pulled out wide from her body by four separate guards, who then each guided one of the horses to reverse trot into a space where the ropes could then be secured to a saddle harness strapped to the back of each steed.
Then with bizarre surprise and great, purposeful effort, Hirene turned her head to the side and gazed upon the yard. We can only imagine what she saw through glazed eyes, and the agonies that affronted her body, but for a short time she seemed to be watching proceedings unfold from this position of pain and discomfort.
Then there was a shout and each horse, in time together, was marshalled forward just enough to draw the ropes tighter, causing a guttural groan to emanate from the bound girl’s damaged form, and her joints moved as she convulsed, not once, but several times. She was to be torn apart limb from limb and it had begun.
… and the crowd cheered.
Immediately the four ropes holding her wrists and ankles came alive and slowly began to put tension on the lines pulling the captive girl’s arms and legs painfully away from her torso!
“Look at her nipples, Tiberius, they are hard and that bloody slit looks so wet and needy.”
The seemingly limitless sexual desire for bloody torture amazed even Tiberius, but he could see how much this scene was already exciting his wife, and knew that once the girl had been torn asunder, he would be taking Aemilia back to their bedroom.
But for now, they were here watching as slowly but very surely the ropes were pulled ever tighter, stretching Hirene’s naked body into a taut spread-eagle on the stones and sand.
“Rip the bitch apart!”
“Can I take her cunt home with me?”
“Make the whore scream!”
The watching spectators wanted more blood and they were about to get it!
Then she was free of the ground, the whole weight of her body now borne by the ropes and from somewhere Hirene, so recently the beautiful bed partner of the great Tiberius Claudius Maximus, found the inner strength to scream out the pains of her agony and the new terror that engulfed her.
With very commendable horsemanship, each guard guided the four horses slowly forwards. As each hoof was placed on the stony floor another few inches of tension was applied to the rope, every equid step accompanied by a gasp from the awestruck crowd, as Hirene’s once nubile and gorgeous body was slowly being pulled apart in a fiendish, almost mechanical, manner.
The bound captive screamed again, as muscles tore, tendons snapped and sinews were at the very point of breaking. She was drawn so very tight already that the poor girl was parallel to the ground, suspended between the horses, her groin and bloody pussy thrusting grotesquely upwards …
“Please … help … me!” She yelled again, her voice shrill and piercing as from somewhere the tormented girl found the resolve to cry out.
The crowd though, was now awestruck into silence …
Tiberius felt his wife’s hand slide over his groin to grip the hard length that had formed under the reams of Toga material that he wore.
He gasped and she giggled, whilst Hirene’s arms were being slowly torn from the shoulder sockets, ligaments and tendons were snapping in agonised and surprisingly loud ruptures, just as her lovely thighs were being slowly pulled from their hip sockets. Never stopping, the horses continued their interminable journey, pulling step by atrocious step … Hirene’s flesh began to tear, crimson rivers flowing to the ground below her suspended figure, her cries frantic and excruciating as snot poured from her nose, blood and saliva from her mouth and tears from her eyes, perspiration making every tortured pore glisten in the heat of the sun.
The crowd were dumbstruck. All that could be heard was the whinnying of the steeds as their labours became increasingly more taxing. But, under expert supervision from the guards, ever onwards they walked, and then upon the issuing of a resounding yell that combined with a sharp crack of a horse whip to each flanked hide, the horses slipped from a walk into a trot …
There was no time for Hirene to make a sound as her left arm was torn free followed almost immediately by her right, and they hung from the ropes to her torso held in situ only by the last vestiges of muscles, until just a few seconds later her legs were ripped from their hip sockets, and the remains of her torso fell to the ground with a sickening thump.
Blood oozed from her body, spurting in great fountains as her torn carcass lay prostrate, and the horses trotted free, each beast with a torn and bloody limb trailing behind it.
But as Aemilia rose from her seat and approached the death scene, it became apparent that the limbless body of this concubine slut, was not yet a cadaver. In fact, she was still conscious, her eyes looking up at Tiberius’ wife as she loomed over the bloody mass of flesh.
With a degenerate and debauched pleasure grinning from her lips, Aemilia reached down to the stumps of Hirene’s hips and cupped the remains of her bloody pussy. In her hand she held a stick of wood that had been run through with nails.
“Look at you now concubine,” she mocked, and then slowly pushed the stick between the remnants of the dying girl’s labia and deep into her body.
Then she stood, spat down on her wretched victim, turned and walked back to her husband.
Hirene convulsed and jerked her reduced torso, looking like a flapping fish out of water, before peace claimed her.
It was done.
FIN.
Peony
Magistrate
Scum from the Steppes – Chapter 27
How can it be? What have I done to offend the gods so? I didn't choose my life... I was born a slave and I am dying a slave... I didn't ask to be beautiful. You gods gave me my beauty... Yes, I have lived and been loved, and yes I did not die in the quarries or as a common whore or as a kitchen slave... But what have I done?
How can it be? I should be insensible now. I have hung a day on this infernal post, my body attacked by these evil spikes. I should be dead, I should at least be unconscious, beyond pain.
How can it be that I am more awake than ever? My breath may be shallow, my movements stilled, but I feel everything. I see, through half-closed eyes, everything. I hear everything. I feel - oh gods, why? why? - I feel everything. My smallest shift of position makes the spikes settle ever more sharply. I feel it all. It is so awful... it is unimaginable agony. And it is not over. I see them bring the horses. I know it is not yet over.
Oh gods! Why? Why does poor Hirene deserve this? Please gods! Let me die now. Surely it is enough for them, for her? Let me die now from all my hurts and let me be with Elyssa!
And now they have released me from the stake, and they minister to me, such that I am alive for my final torment.
I am! I am! I feel everything, I see everything, I know everything!
They bring the ropes that are fixed to the horses and bind my wrists and ankles. The ropes are strong. They wrap the ropes around my limbs many times. The knots are tightly made. I look at these men, slaves like me. Can they not pity me? I look at them with despair in my eyes.
And now it begins.
Slowly.
I feel my body stretching out, my back still on the sandy ground. I feel myself slowly lifted. I feel my limbs extend. I am spreadeagled in space. I am taut between these four horses. I am racked but as never I could imagine. My limbs!
I feel every tendon and ligament screaming out to me. I feel my joints popping.... I HEAR my own limbs popping from their sockets... I cannot!
I ask aloud to my gods to help me... But my only help is what will come next. Slowly. As slow as they make it. Death.
I hear their laughs. Do they not know how I suffer?
I see them look at my tortured, stretched body, in my last moments. At my ribs and belly and cunt. As I heave to take in the smallest, shallowest breaths.
I hear them - at last - urge the horses forward.
I hear my flesh and muscles tearing.
I look to my left and right as my arms are ripped from me... And my torso falls and my back and head are again on the sand and my face - my lovely face - stares up and towards the two horses. My blood pumps from where my arms once were. It is so horrible. I am beyond pain - this is too much pain...
I see the horses move to the side, pulling against each other now, pulling to rip away my legs. I feel my hips twist, I feel my bones wrench against themselves, my arse pulling apart, my legs! MY LEGS! I am torn apart completely!
In an instant it is just me, my body, on the sand. I am dying. I bleed so much. But still, somehow, I breathe.
My gods! Let me die now!
She comes to me. She smiles. She spits.
I am going! I feel blood in my throat, in my mouth. What is left of me - my pitiful body - jerks and convulses.
I am coming Elyssa! Elyssa! I am coming to you!!!
I am gone.
There is nothing now but quiet and four bloodied limbs and the body of a girl that was once so lovely. I was a slave, I was a dancing girl, I was a concubine to kings and khans. But slave girls die young. I always knew this. Slave girls die young...
How can it be? What have I done to offend the gods so? I didn't choose my life... I was born a slave and I am dying a slave... I didn't ask to be beautiful. You gods gave me my beauty... Yes, I have lived and been loved, and yes I did not die in the quarries or as a common whore or as a kitchen slave... But what have I done?
How can it be? I should be insensible now. I have hung a day on this infernal post, my body attacked by these evil spikes. I should be dead, I should at least be unconscious, beyond pain.
How can it be that I am more awake than ever? My breath may be shallow, my movements stilled, but I feel everything. I see, through half-closed eyes, everything. I hear everything. I feel - oh gods, why? why? - I feel everything. My smallest shift of position makes the spikes settle ever more sharply. I feel it all. It is so awful... it is unimaginable agony. And it is not over. I see them bring the horses. I know it is not yet over.
Oh gods! Why? Why does poor Hirene deserve this? Please gods! Let me die now. Surely it is enough for them, for her? Let me die now from all my hurts and let me be with Elyssa!
And now they have released me from the stake, and they minister to me, such that I am alive for my final torment.
I am! I am! I feel everything, I see everything, I know everything!
They bring the ropes that are fixed to the horses and bind my wrists and ankles. The ropes are strong. They wrap the ropes around my limbs many times. The knots are tightly made. I look at these men, slaves like me. Can they not pity me? I look at them with despair in my eyes.
And now it begins.
Slowly.
I feel my body stretching out, my back still on the sandy ground. I feel myself slowly lifted. I feel my limbs extend. I am spreadeagled in space. I am taut between these four horses. I am racked but as never I could imagine. My limbs!
I feel every tendon and ligament screaming out to me. I feel my joints popping.... I HEAR my own limbs popping from their sockets... I cannot!
I ask aloud to my gods to help me... But my only help is what will come next. Slowly. As slow as they make it. Death.
I hear their laughs. Do they not know how I suffer?
I see them look at my tortured, stretched body, in my last moments. At my ribs and belly and cunt. As I heave to take in the smallest, shallowest breaths.
I hear them - at last - urge the horses forward.
I hear my flesh and muscles tearing.
I look to my left and right as my arms are ripped from me... And my torso falls and my back and head are again on the sand and my face - my lovely face - stares up and towards the two horses. My blood pumps from where my arms once were. It is so horrible. I am beyond pain - this is too much pain...
I see the horses move to the side, pulling against each other now, pulling to rip away my legs. I feel my hips twist, I feel my bones wrench against themselves, my arse pulling apart, my legs! MY LEGS! I am torn apart completely!
In an instant it is just me, my body, on the sand. I am dying. I bleed so much. But still, somehow, I breathe.
My gods! Let me die now!
She comes to me. She smiles. She spits.
I am going! I feel blood in my throat, in my mouth. What is left of me - my pitiful body - jerks and convulses.
I am coming Elyssa! Elyssa! I am coming to you!!!
I am gone.
There is nothing now but quiet and four bloodied limbs and the body of a girl that was once so lovely. I was a slave, I was a dancing girl, I was a concubine to kings and khans. But slave girls die young. I always knew this. Slave girls die young...
The situation is indeed bleak when one is forced to consult the Gods for explanations and help.
settantuno
MUTUS PICTOR
Peony
Magistrate
So perfect! Thank you!!!
Loinclothslave
slave to the whip
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Hi everyone, I'm delighted to announce that the recent collaboration between the delightful @Peony and I, "Scum form the Steppes" is now available in the terrific CF archive. Thanks to @Madiosi for his usual diligence with the posting ... Take a look if you get the chance by clicking below
Scum from the Steppes
Scum from the Steppes
settantuno
MUTUS PICTOR
Peony
Magistrate
ooooh yes please!!! legs next please!!!!
