ShadowWolf
Tribune
I loved the drawings of the 3rd and 4th ones. The details and curves were exceptional.
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Some Sketches
- Thread starter Andyman
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Andyman
Senator
The july morning was warm and sunny.
I walked across the meadow through the tall grass that was almost hip-high. The grass was covered with morning dew, and normally I would have avoided the larger clumps to keep my sandals, dress and tunic from getting wet. But now I had no sandals, nor gown, nor tunic, and my skin was damp from the grasses and the foliage of shrubs. The tallest ears of grass scraped against my vulva as I walked through it and the twigs of bushes stroked my hips and dangling breasts. I was wet with dew and with sweat and I was cold, but I had no way to protect myself from their touch, because my hands were immobilized, spread wide and tied with ropes to a heavy beam, and the soldiers following me urged me not to delay because the mayor was waiting on me on the cross hill (that's why we took a shortcut and not a winding main road), to see with his own eyes how, according to the sentence of the judge, the torturers do justice to me, nailing me to the tree of torment as a punishment for the fact that yesterday I stole a loaf of bread from the baker. I was a poor woman with no occupation so I couldn't buy the bread for my breakfast. But I didn't suppose I would be punished with so horrible death penalty as crucifixion!
The way of the cross with the patibulum on my shoulders tired me a lot, but walking through the green meadows was the most beautiful and pleasant part of my execution. When I finally stood on the top and saw the lustful and contemptuous glances of the mayor and the assembled spectators, I wanted to collapse underground out of shame. But the earth was as hard as rock, as were the hearts of everyone around me...
Mad with terror and pain, I could not tell myself how I was nailed to the beam and in the same time sadistically raped and dragged on the cross. My feet were hammered together to the front of the pole but the nail was driven from one side, so that I hung over my cross with my hips twisted to the left.
Hanging on the wounds of my hands and feet was a terrible experience, from the first seconds my whole body was tearing with pain, my tense muscles trembled, and again I was all wet, this time from sweat, not from dew.
Though my feet were nailed tight and pressed against each other, my knees were bending sideways, and the twisting of my hips did not cover my nakedness at all, for those who looked from the sides saw my entire groin exposed.
I was dying of pain and I was dying of shame, wondering myself that I had not yet lost my mind from this terrible physical and mental suffering. I dropped my face down so as not to look straight into the eyes of the people standing around, but looking at my own twisted, pain-torn, dying body was just as terrifying and unbearable for me that I didn't know what to do. Strained with pain and fear of death, I finally started to cry as when I was a little girl.
Soon I was exhausted and hung inert, dreaming of death. The painful muscle spasms completely overwhelmed me. Rivers of blood ran down my naked body. The flocks of flies circled my private places, wounds and face, and I could smell my own stench. Laughter and malicious remarks from onlookers completed my humiliation...
The hours passed and my torment had no end. And I was aware that the crucified criminals often were dying long, long time, so I know that I would be dying myself for many more hours and maybe days, although after the very first hour I had no strength to endure such cruel suffering any longer, not for a moment longer. Not a second longer! But I had to endure them, having no choice. Nobody cared how much I suffer, on the contrary: they enjoyed my suffering, and the more they saw my fear, pain, shame and exhaustion, the more it made them happy.
I cried once again but when they saw me writhing in pain, sobbing and begging for mercy, it made them only laugh unrestrainedly. But soon once again I hanged totally exhausted with monstruous pain in my limbs, and I literally ran out of tears, and my mouth was also too dry to talk. I hanged squeaking and moaning and looking half-conscious on the joyful faces of my neighbours and travellers, gathered around exactly to watch me naked and mutilated. I didn't understand their cruelty, but I was experiencing it with every cell of my dying body.
Now I became dewatered and horribly thirsty and I was literally starving. I was starving! And I knew that for the rest of my life I would not get anything to eat.
After all, I hadn't had time to eat the bread I had just stolen out of hunger before I was sentenced for that crime to the most cruel death penalty ever invented.
I walked across the meadow through the tall grass that was almost hip-high. The grass was covered with morning dew, and normally I would have avoided the larger clumps to keep my sandals, dress and tunic from getting wet. But now I had no sandals, nor gown, nor tunic, and my skin was damp from the grasses and the foliage of shrubs. The tallest ears of grass scraped against my vulva as I walked through it and the twigs of bushes stroked my hips and dangling breasts. I was wet with dew and with sweat and I was cold, but I had no way to protect myself from their touch, because my hands were immobilized, spread wide and tied with ropes to a heavy beam, and the soldiers following me urged me not to delay because the mayor was waiting on me on the cross hill (that's why we took a shortcut and not a winding main road), to see with his own eyes how, according to the sentence of the judge, the torturers do justice to me, nailing me to the tree of torment as a punishment for the fact that yesterday I stole a loaf of bread from the baker. I was a poor woman with no occupation so I couldn't buy the bread for my breakfast. But I didn't suppose I would be punished with so horrible death penalty as crucifixion!
The way of the cross with the patibulum on my shoulders tired me a lot, but walking through the green meadows was the most beautiful and pleasant part of my execution. When I finally stood on the top and saw the lustful and contemptuous glances of the mayor and the assembled spectators, I wanted to collapse underground out of shame. But the earth was as hard as rock, as were the hearts of everyone around me...
Mad with terror and pain, I could not tell myself how I was nailed to the beam and in the same time sadistically raped and dragged on the cross. My feet were hammered together to the front of the pole but the nail was driven from one side, so that I hung over my cross with my hips twisted to the left.
Hanging on the wounds of my hands and feet was a terrible experience, from the first seconds my whole body was tearing with pain, my tense muscles trembled, and again I was all wet, this time from sweat, not from dew.
Though my feet were nailed tight and pressed against each other, my knees were bending sideways, and the twisting of my hips did not cover my nakedness at all, for those who looked from the sides saw my entire groin exposed.
I was dying of pain and I was dying of shame, wondering myself that I had not yet lost my mind from this terrible physical and mental suffering. I dropped my face down so as not to look straight into the eyes of the people standing around, but looking at my own twisted, pain-torn, dying body was just as terrifying and unbearable for me that I didn't know what to do. Strained with pain and fear of death, I finally started to cry as when I was a little girl.
Soon I was exhausted and hung inert, dreaming of death. The painful muscle spasms completely overwhelmed me. Rivers of blood ran down my naked body. The flocks of flies circled my private places, wounds and face, and I could smell my own stench. Laughter and malicious remarks from onlookers completed my humiliation...
The hours passed and my torment had no end. And I was aware that the crucified criminals often were dying long, long time, so I know that I would be dying myself for many more hours and maybe days, although after the very first hour I had no strength to endure such cruel suffering any longer, not for a moment longer. Not a second longer! But I had to endure them, having no choice. Nobody cared how much I suffer, on the contrary: they enjoyed my suffering, and the more they saw my fear, pain, shame and exhaustion, the more it made them happy.
I cried once again but when they saw me writhing in pain, sobbing and begging for mercy, it made them only laugh unrestrainedly. But soon once again I hanged totally exhausted with monstruous pain in my limbs, and I literally ran out of tears, and my mouth was also too dry to talk. I hanged squeaking and moaning and looking half-conscious on the joyful faces of my neighbours and travellers, gathered around exactly to watch me naked and mutilated. I didn't understand their cruelty, but I was experiencing it with every cell of my dying body.
Now I became dewatered and horribly thirsty and I was literally starving. I was starving! And I knew that for the rest of my life I would not get anything to eat.
After all, I hadn't had time to eat the bread I had just stolen out of hunger before I was sentenced for that crime to the most cruel death penalty ever invented.
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Wonderfully written and illustrated tale!!!
Andyman
Senator
We came at the top of the hill just in time to see the self-proclaimed queen being hammered to her patibulum, crying and kicking her legs in pain. They lifted the beam up and nailed her legs and remove every ropes. I was impressed. I saw many "messiahs" being crucified here and everyone save her were cursing their fate and their tormentors, but this woman was a different kind of an uprising chieftain, they said she often identify herself as a lamb and now she opened her body to the pain and shame with no curse nor hatred and she didn't even try to resist, indeed. On the other hand, any resistance would have been futile. How the weak, scourged, naked, unarmed woman (and an overweighted one with a fat ass, paunch and ugly, dangling boobs) could have resisted against the trained legionnaires, their armour and weapon, and their ropes, hammers and nails?
My sister was the next. I watched her being stripped, nailed, raped and lifted up. She behaved very similar to this false queen, I supposed she was one of her secret disciples. But she was a thief like me, too, and she was not as innocent as this stupid "daughter of god". And she had far less courage, so she cried and squeaked and begged for mercy, all in vain, while nailed.
And finally they stripped me down and crucified me as well. I was never quiet and obedient girl, so as for me I cursed these fucking Romans and I even managed to kick one of them in the face, breaking his nose. Of course, it was in vain, too - I have been punched twice and pacified, so they hammered my wrists to the patibulum with no need for real struggle.
Then they lifted me, hanged on my beam, up. The pain shocked me, I never realised that it could be SO FUCKING PAINFUL! Now I started to writhing and squeaking myself, and I even cried "No, please, nooo!", and the witnessing people laughed at the bold boss of the thieves acting like a silly and tearful girl, damned Roman dogs! Of course they ignored me and places the longest and thickest nail against my feet and... NOOO!!! SHIIIT!!! DAMN YOU ALL!!! AHHHH...!
My sister was the next. I watched her being stripped, nailed, raped and lifted up. She behaved very similar to this false queen, I supposed she was one of her secret disciples. But she was a thief like me, too, and she was not as innocent as this stupid "daughter of god". And she had far less courage, so she cried and squeaked and begged for mercy, all in vain, while nailed.
And finally they stripped me down and crucified me as well. I was never quiet and obedient girl, so as for me I cursed these fucking Romans and I even managed to kick one of them in the face, breaking his nose. Of course, it was in vain, too - I have been punched twice and pacified, so they hammered my wrists to the patibulum with no need for real struggle.
Then they lifted me, hanged on my beam, up. The pain shocked me, I never realised that it could be SO FUCKING PAINFUL! Now I started to writhing and squeaking myself, and I even cried "No, please, nooo!", and the witnessing people laughed at the bold boss of the thieves acting like a silly and tearful girl, damned Roman dogs! Of course they ignored me and places the longest and thickest nail against my feet and... NOOO!!! SHIIIT!!! DAMN YOU ALL!!! AHHHH...!
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Andyman
Senator
When Senator Marcus Fabius asked me to go with him to Antium for trade talks with the local governors of the imperial latifundia, I agreed without hesitation. I liked Antium and had a lot of friends there, especially before I became his concubine.
We arrived in town four days' journey and my master went to bed early to rest before the negotiations scheduled for the next morning. As for me, I wasn't tired and decided to meet a pack of old friends. Although several years have passed since our last meeting, we had a great time, the girls were bursting with humor as always, and Philip and Alexander simply surpassed themselves. I felt at home. In addition, Darius provided us with excellent wine and at one point I felt that I was so relaxed that when Philip embraced me with a twinkle in his eye, I felt that I was losing my self-control...
In the morning I woke up in his bed with a headache. Philip was absent. Angry at myself and a little scared, I quickly dressed and returned to our quarters. I had arrived just in time for the official breakfast, but I was sure someone from the servants would report what had happened to my master. Marcus, however, greeted me normally and with a smile, so I quickly stopped thinking about the matter.
During the negotiations, I waited with the servants in the garden as we were ordered. The negotiations that day ended only after four hours, when everyone was tired of waiting. We ate a bit and then the senator invited us all - his hosts, interlocutors, servants and court - to see some spectacle, supposedly worth seeing, up the hill outside the city. "Come and see. It will definitely impress you," he told me.
And he was right.
When we reached the top, we found an empty cross post and a beam lying on the ground, and several soldiers and slaves with ropes, hammers and ladders ready to execute the criminal. Only the prisoner was missing. "Who of you will guess who this cross is intended for?" asked the senator with a smile and I felt the shivers down my spine ... And then one of my friends said my name, and on Marcus' request she told everyone what I was doing last night. Marcus was looking at me but he didn't say a single word. Instead he show me his thumb down. And at that moment I realized that there was no rescue for me and I staggered on my feet.
And then the soldiers seized my arms, took off my sandals, cloak, gold rings, necklace and bracelets, let my hair loose, and in front of all the noble guests, my fellow servants, slaves and bystanders, stripped me of my robes, bare me completely without mercy. Then the senator came up and pressed deep on my head the wreath made of twigs of thorn bushes. When we made love in bed, he would often put his own laurel wreath on my head, but now my body was destined to rot and dry on the cross like those withered prickly branches instead of fresh, fragrant green leaves. And when I understood this, I nearly fainted and I couldn't refrain from crying, but my sincerest tears couldn't reverse my doom.
Then the soldiers threw me to the ground and - oh gods! - they ruthlessly nailed my hands to the tree, threw the ropes, tied me and pulled me to the top of the pole, then - no, no, nooo! - they hammered my feet at the bottom of the pole and, taking the ropes off, took a few steps back to admire their work and my body hanging from the wooden structure on no support but four nails. Shocked by the suddenness of the events and overwhelmed by the excruciating pain and dying of terrible shame, I was unable to speak. I tensed my body up on my feet and pulled myself up and breathed quickly and deeply in utter horror, and the onlookers stood beside me and smirked, staring at the most intimate parts of my body exposed to their glances, and making shameless remarks, clearly amused by my horror, pain and embarrassment.
Imagine: five minutes ago I was one of them - a beautiful, wealthy woman free from confusion and worries. But in just five minutes, the wheel of fortune turned, crushing my dreams and turning me into the naked whore dying helplessly in agony and disgrace at the cruelest of torture devices ever invented.
Probably devised especially for such complete idiots like me.
We arrived in town four days' journey and my master went to bed early to rest before the negotiations scheduled for the next morning. As for me, I wasn't tired and decided to meet a pack of old friends. Although several years have passed since our last meeting, we had a great time, the girls were bursting with humor as always, and Philip and Alexander simply surpassed themselves. I felt at home. In addition, Darius provided us with excellent wine and at one point I felt that I was so relaxed that when Philip embraced me with a twinkle in his eye, I felt that I was losing my self-control...
In the morning I woke up in his bed with a headache. Philip was absent. Angry at myself and a little scared, I quickly dressed and returned to our quarters. I had arrived just in time for the official breakfast, but I was sure someone from the servants would report what had happened to my master. Marcus, however, greeted me normally and with a smile, so I quickly stopped thinking about the matter.
During the negotiations, I waited with the servants in the garden as we were ordered. The negotiations that day ended only after four hours, when everyone was tired of waiting. We ate a bit and then the senator invited us all - his hosts, interlocutors, servants and court - to see some spectacle, supposedly worth seeing, up the hill outside the city. "Come and see. It will definitely impress you," he told me.
And he was right.
When we reached the top, we found an empty cross post and a beam lying on the ground, and several soldiers and slaves with ropes, hammers and ladders ready to execute the criminal. Only the prisoner was missing. "Who of you will guess who this cross is intended for?" asked the senator with a smile and I felt the shivers down my spine ... And then one of my friends said my name, and on Marcus' request she told everyone what I was doing last night. Marcus was looking at me but he didn't say a single word. Instead he show me his thumb down. And at that moment I realized that there was no rescue for me and I staggered on my feet.
And then the soldiers seized my arms, took off my sandals, cloak, gold rings, necklace and bracelets, let my hair loose, and in front of all the noble guests, my fellow servants, slaves and bystanders, stripped me of my robes, bare me completely without mercy. Then the senator came up and pressed deep on my head the wreath made of twigs of thorn bushes. When we made love in bed, he would often put his own laurel wreath on my head, but now my body was destined to rot and dry on the cross like those withered prickly branches instead of fresh, fragrant green leaves. And when I understood this, I nearly fainted and I couldn't refrain from crying, but my sincerest tears couldn't reverse my doom.
Then the soldiers threw me to the ground and - oh gods! - they ruthlessly nailed my hands to the tree, threw the ropes, tied me and pulled me to the top of the pole, then - no, no, nooo! - they hammered my feet at the bottom of the pole and, taking the ropes off, took a few steps back to admire their work and my body hanging from the wooden structure on no support but four nails. Shocked by the suddenness of the events and overwhelmed by the excruciating pain and dying of terrible shame, I was unable to speak. I tensed my body up on my feet and pulled myself up and breathed quickly and deeply in utter horror, and the onlookers stood beside me and smirked, staring at the most intimate parts of my body exposed to their glances, and making shameless remarks, clearly amused by my horror, pain and embarrassment.
Imagine: five minutes ago I was one of them - a beautiful, wealthy woman free from confusion and worries. But in just five minutes, the wheel of fortune turned, crushing my dreams and turning me into the naked whore dying helplessly in agony and disgrace at the cruelest of torture devices ever invented.
Probably devised especially for such complete idiots like me.
Andyman
Senator
I can feel the warm rays of the sun. I hear birds singing. The noise of the wind. The humming of bees in a field of blooming flax. The clatter of the horses' hooves and of the wagon wheels on a rocky road. A splash of water in a stream running down the road towards the town. From the distance you can hear dogs barking and the merry voices of children playing outside the safe city walls. Someone is playing the drum and bells, someone is singing a happy song. I don't open my eyes. I try to imagine that the world is beautiful and I try to pretend that I do not hear the painful groans and heavy last breathing of my dying husband crucified next to me - he has heart illness and will be soon dead - and I tried to pretend that my legs and hands do not hurt as if someone was tearing them out of my joints and that I am not naked and not burning with shame when passers-by without embarrassment peek between my legs and laugh at my torment ... I try to pretend that my life had some meaning, that I still have some dignity, some hope.
But there is no dignity nor hope, there is no hope not only for life, but also for death, and no hope that I will endure this excruciating pain and shame without despair and breakdown. It is not true that hope is the last to die. My hope is long gone. Now only fear and pain and shame remained and they will remain with me for long, long days of my hopeless dying.
But there is no dignity nor hope, there is no hope not only for life, but also for death, and no hope that I will endure this excruciating pain and shame without despair and breakdown. It is not true that hope is the last to die. My hope is long gone. Now only fear and pain and shame remained and they will remain with me for long, long days of my hopeless dying.
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Andyman
Senator
When I heard the exclamation "The Emperor is coming!" I bowed my head humbly, preferring not to show my face to him. It was common knowledge that one should not be unnecessarily conspicuous in the presence of the Emperor.
Greeted with applause and shouts of joy, the Emperor approached the Cross Hill, and I heard him praise his soldiers with satisfaction for a decent job. All the condemned criminals, five men and two women hung with their arms evenly stretched along the beams, and with their legs hammered to the sides of the posts. The three men (they were senatorial sons after all) had their hips wrapped in some kind of rags, covering their genitals. The other two who were slaves did not deserve such respect and were hanging with exposed penises, not mentioning women who were obligatory stripped naked, and now they were hammered with their legs slightly spread, having their feet nailed slightly to the back of the posts. Both women in addition were given the thick pegs pushed deep between their buttocks to prolong their agony and to make them being instantly "raped" till the death.
I decided not to raise my head nor open my eyes until the imperial retinue had left the hill, if I only could, but all at once I heard screams and laughter and the sound of a stream of liquid splashing on the ground and I opened my eyes. The crucified woman on the left released a stream of urine. "How dare you expel your excrement in the presence of the Emperor !?" cried the lictor and pointed her to the soldiers. Two legionnaires ran up with the hammer and big oak wedge usually used to stabilize the cross in a hole carved in the rock. After a while, amid the monstrous screams of the condemned woman, her labia fissure was plugged with a thick wedge driven deep into her vagina with a series of strokes of the heavy hammer. No blood was seen but the internal bleeding must be noticeable if not significant - the wedge was not sharp but at least eight inches long. I closed my eyes again feeling sick.
At the end, the emperor, who was hungry and was in a hurry to dinner at the prefect's palace, with a gracious gesture of his hand said goodbye to the representatives of the city authorities, officers and gathered citizens, and departed towards the city gate with the entire retinue of officials and servants.
I breathed a sigh of relief and despite the multiple witnesses staring at my nude crotch, finally also let out almost two liters of urine from my overflowing bladder, not having to worry now that they would treat me the same as they had treated my companion in misery few minutes before.
Greeted with applause and shouts of joy, the Emperor approached the Cross Hill, and I heard him praise his soldiers with satisfaction for a decent job. All the condemned criminals, five men and two women hung with their arms evenly stretched along the beams, and with their legs hammered to the sides of the posts. The three men (they were senatorial sons after all) had their hips wrapped in some kind of rags, covering their genitals. The other two who were slaves did not deserve such respect and were hanging with exposed penises, not mentioning women who were obligatory stripped naked, and now they were hammered with their legs slightly spread, having their feet nailed slightly to the back of the posts. Both women in addition were given the thick pegs pushed deep between their buttocks to prolong their agony and to make them being instantly "raped" till the death.
I decided not to raise my head nor open my eyes until the imperial retinue had left the hill, if I only could, but all at once I heard screams and laughter and the sound of a stream of liquid splashing on the ground and I opened my eyes. The crucified woman on the left released a stream of urine. "How dare you expel your excrement in the presence of the Emperor !?" cried the lictor and pointed her to the soldiers. Two legionnaires ran up with the hammer and big oak wedge usually used to stabilize the cross in a hole carved in the rock. After a while, amid the monstrous screams of the condemned woman, her labia fissure was plugged with a thick wedge driven deep into her vagina with a series of strokes of the heavy hammer. No blood was seen but the internal bleeding must be noticeable if not significant - the wedge was not sharp but at least eight inches long. I closed my eyes again feeling sick.
At the end, the emperor, who was hungry and was in a hurry to dinner at the prefect's palace, with a gracious gesture of his hand said goodbye to the representatives of the city authorities, officers and gathered citizens, and departed towards the city gate with the entire retinue of officials and servants.
I breathed a sigh of relief and despite the multiple witnesses staring at my nude crotch, finally also let out almost two liters of urine from my overflowing bladder, not having to worry now that they would treat me the same as they had treated my companion in misery few minutes before.
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Hangnail
Tribune
Some paler versions
Attachments
marunt
Spectator
I think the tits nails would be a great concept. Especially for unfaithful women who would thus be punished by the ways of sin!
But technically, this would only be possible with two vertical posts on either side of the woman condemned. The nails for the breasts pass through a triangular wedges, one foot long, pierced in its center, then hammered into the base of the breasts, to sink in each vertical beam.
So when the nails with large heads are driven in, the base of the breasts is pierced then gradually crushed. It is up to the executioner to dose the hammering for a definitive breast imprisonment, but without cutting the beautiful female breasts.
A block of wood must also be fixed between the vertical posts, at the height of the buttocks.
The first of the two large crotch nails will be hammered so that the woman can rest the weight of her body on her vulvar slit.
The second will be hammered a little higher, in the pubic triangle and will slide above the pubic bone to come out through the perineum area, before sinking deeply into the wood.
So now, is it necessary to nail her hands and feet too?
Sorry for poor drawing, thank you.
Attachments
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Andyman
Senator
The Saturday was extremely hot. At the dawn the clouds were gone and the sun rised hot as hell. Soon the air became as hot as the fire and totally dry. My skin and my dress were, in opposite, wet with sweat, and I breathed heavy, because even the breathing was an effort, especially when one must walk through the open landscape, burdened with the heavy beam on her shoulders. There was no the slightest shadow and I was not allowed to have even the shortest rest (at least I was sentenced as a "friend of the enemies of the Roman Empire", so the enemy of a Rome myself, although I met these enemies accidentally, but I was unlucky enough to talk to them and to be seen together with them few seconds before they were arrested), so when we finally arrived to our destination, a mile far from the city walls (in order to spare children the terrific view of the crucified victims and hearing their cries and curses), I was half conscious and, exhausted, I closed my eyes and tried to wipe the sweat out of my forehead and face but in vain. I felt the drops of sweat forming small strelets and running down my neck and back under my tunic. And then the men who led me there undressd me, tearing the tunic in halves and literally in seconds I was bare naked, because I had nothing on except my tunic. I was ashamed and embarassed because many men and women were watching me being executed. All my friends - girls from the Taylors' Street on the East Suburb - came there with me and now they were watching me and making harsh comments:
"Gosh, you are sweated as a pig!"
"Wipe your tits, you pervert!"
"Look at her hairy crotch, it's wet as she had pissed herself!"
And they started to laugh at me, and my aunt Rose who came with them slapped my face and called: "Margaret, what a pervert are you! At least cover your cunt, you slut, with your palms! Don't you have any shame, old whore?" And she slapped me once again and I tried to really cover my vulva with my palms but in the same moment I was being grabbed and leaded to the feet of the pole, with the patibulum just hammered into position, relatively low. They made me standing back to the pole, lifted my hands up, tied them to the ends of the beam and then they left me for the moment, busy with preparing their tools.
Now I was standing straight in all my nakedness against all the crowd and I felt I was nearly fainting from the extreme heat and the terrible shame, and my heart was beating like a bell, and I felt the direct rays of the sun scorching my bare skin and the streams of sweat still running down my breasts and belly and back and buttocks and dripping to the dry earth below my feet. I hoped this extreme heat would kill me quick...
The men returned and one of them pressed the tip of the huge nail against my righ hand wrist and when he hit the nail head with his hammer I nearly lost my conscious. I cried aloud and choked and started coughing and then squeaking, when he hammered my both hands to the wood. I lowered my body, bending my legs and hanging on the ropes (and nails) only, and I perhaps pissed a little.
But when he finished, I tried to lift my body up again and to stand on my legs to spare the pain in my wrists. I was standing for a while, being mocked and laughed at by my friends and my relatives and by some aliens, and then the guards approached once again and the man with a hammer lifted my right leg, bending only my knee joint - as if he wanted to shoe a horse. Pressing my foot against the pole few inches over the ground he nailed me through the heel. Once again I nearly fainted, hanging loosely from my wrists, overhelmed by the sudden pain, and once again no one took notice. He simply grabbed my second leg and hammered it on the opposite side of the pole, placing it slightly to the rear, thus forcing me to keep my knees spread open so I could be seen by all the spectators in such immodest, shameless pose, till my death, and after my death too, till my body would decompose. I weeped, crushed with the cruelty of my fate, hopelessness of my position and shame of my nudity and exposure. And when they remove all the ropes and left me hanging on four nails only, I lifted my body up and cried with an utmost physical and mental pain and I really pissed myself...
...before I hanged helplessly with my head down, my breasts stressed and my legs spread open, like a slave, witnessed by the whole community of my suburb, and so my agony begun.
The sun was shining mercilessly no less than in the morning and when at the noon I was given the fresh water to drink, I couldn't bear the thirst and I drunk two or three pints although I knew it would make my dying longer. I was fully aware that I would be dying slow, painful death in a horrific pain and humiliation, but in this Saturday noon, after just few hours of painful agony I couldn't expect that it would take my wretched body full five days and nights - till the Thursday's morning! - to lose all my strength and cease to struggle and finally to die on the cross!
And I never thought during this summer day that I was crucified on the edge of the semidesertand so the night would be extremely cold, especially for a naked girl.
"Gosh, you are sweated as a pig!"
"Wipe your tits, you pervert!"
"Look at her hairy crotch, it's wet as she had pissed herself!"
And they started to laugh at me, and my aunt Rose who came with them slapped my face and called: "Margaret, what a pervert are you! At least cover your cunt, you slut, with your palms! Don't you have any shame, old whore?" And she slapped me once again and I tried to really cover my vulva with my palms but in the same moment I was being grabbed and leaded to the feet of the pole, with the patibulum just hammered into position, relatively low. They made me standing back to the pole, lifted my hands up, tied them to the ends of the beam and then they left me for the moment, busy with preparing their tools.
Now I was standing straight in all my nakedness against all the crowd and I felt I was nearly fainting from the extreme heat and the terrible shame, and my heart was beating like a bell, and I felt the direct rays of the sun scorching my bare skin and the streams of sweat still running down my breasts and belly and back and buttocks and dripping to the dry earth below my feet. I hoped this extreme heat would kill me quick...
The men returned and one of them pressed the tip of the huge nail against my righ hand wrist and when he hit the nail head with his hammer I nearly lost my conscious. I cried aloud and choked and started coughing and then squeaking, when he hammered my both hands to the wood. I lowered my body, bending my legs and hanging on the ropes (and nails) only, and I perhaps pissed a little.
But when he finished, I tried to lift my body up again and to stand on my legs to spare the pain in my wrists. I was standing for a while, being mocked and laughed at by my friends and my relatives and by some aliens, and then the guards approached once again and the man with a hammer lifted my right leg, bending only my knee joint - as if he wanted to shoe a horse. Pressing my foot against the pole few inches over the ground he nailed me through the heel. Once again I nearly fainted, hanging loosely from my wrists, overhelmed by the sudden pain, and once again no one took notice. He simply grabbed my second leg and hammered it on the opposite side of the pole, placing it slightly to the rear, thus forcing me to keep my knees spread open so I could be seen by all the spectators in such immodest, shameless pose, till my death, and after my death too, till my body would decompose. I weeped, crushed with the cruelty of my fate, hopelessness of my position and shame of my nudity and exposure. And when they remove all the ropes and left me hanging on four nails only, I lifted my body up and cried with an utmost physical and mental pain and I really pissed myself...
...before I hanged helplessly with my head down, my breasts stressed and my legs spread open, like a slave, witnessed by the whole community of my suburb, and so my agony begun.
The sun was shining mercilessly no less than in the morning and when at the noon I was given the fresh water to drink, I couldn't bear the thirst and I drunk two or three pints although I knew it would make my dying longer. I was fully aware that I would be dying slow, painful death in a horrific pain and humiliation, but in this Saturday noon, after just few hours of painful agony I couldn't expect that it would take my wretched body full five days and nights - till the Thursday's morning! - to lose all my strength and cease to struggle and finally to die on the cross!
And I never thought during this summer day that I was crucified on the edge of the semidesertand so the night would be extremely cold, especially for a naked girl.
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