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Some Sketches

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Valeria against her will slowly parted her knees, noticing that everyone's eyes are focused on her lower belly and she was shocked when she realized that due to the twelve hours of the most horrible pain, exhausting and trauma, the feeling of being crushed, destroyed, dehumanized, humiliated and sexually abused as deep as possible was not only dreading but in the same time exciting and that her labia were opening too in a state of full arousal and that the painful spasms and trembling of all the muscles were mixed with a purely sexual bliss, and that the fear of suffering and of death overhelming her mind caused the regular orgasm. She yelled and totally opened herself physically and mentally, awaiting the next waves of the united pain and pleasure flowing through her dying body.

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Louise opened her eyes and noticed two soldiers approaching to her with thick rods in hands and she relized that the most painful moment of her sixteen hours long agony is still to be suffered: in a while her legs will be broken in the act of mercy called crurifragium, the unimaginable painful crushing of her knees or of her legs' bones leading to death of traumatic shock and asphyxia - and she lost consciousness.

But don't be affraid: soon she will be brought back to senses with two powerful blows, breaking her thigh bones and making the last half an hour of her agony worst than a hell itself.

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Judith lifted her body up for the 746th time, stunned that every time she did it, she felt that the pain and the shame are absolutly unbearable and as monstruous as possible, but when she was lifting her body again, each time the pain and shame exceeded the previous feelings. She rested for a while, hanging on her wrists and recovering, and begun to lift her body up for the 747th time.

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The crowd of people watched Mary during the first day of her agony. Only the few onlookers were watching her yesterday. Today only the flocks of flies and mosquitos found her tormented body interesting. And the vultures from the semi-desert at the foot of the hills, approaching each time nearer and nearer.
Mary closed her eyes and moves her hips to the right and left and then extremally to the rear, irritated by the flies larvae, starting to hatch in her vagina and anus.

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Exhausted and indifferent, Agnes hanged helplessly on her wrists, sunburned with the late afternoon sun and covered with sweat, dying with pain in wounds, hunger, thirst, headache and sunstroke, with her knees apart, ignoring the passing-by priest cursing her immodesty and impudence, as well as young men and women returning from the meadows and fields after work, peeping between her legs, mocking her and laughing merrily with no slightest compassion to the dying slave.

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Renata looked at her husband and children, standing still vis a vis her cross and surrounded with other relatives, their friends and neighbours. Diocletian's edict allows the Christians to revoke their errors and to have their lives spared. But Renata was a faithful and honest, she nevered lied, and she frankly confirms she was a Christian when interrogated. Her husband and children were more wise and farsighted, as well as her remaining relatives. As a result, she was the only person in the whole town accused and sentenced to death, and the whole cruelty of the persecutors focused on her single weak feminine body, mercilessly nailed to the cross like some barbarian rebel or the worthless slave and forced to die in unimaginable pain and shame as a representative of all heretics and misbelievers in Ostia.

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Dorothy, however she's a child of an aristocrat, forgot about all her modesty and shamefullness and kicked her legs in the air helplessly, trying in vain to find support for her feet, forced by the pain in her wrists to relieve it at any cost.

Amused crowd watched the naiive girl showing her every intime areas to the strangers during this show.

Two minutes later she has been given the firm support for her feet, nailed deep in the bone and wood, for free, however one can doubt if she was really happy with the gift, assuming her cries and painful moans. Even one more nail, hammered between her labia to support her crotch directly, didn't cause her smiling.

Some people you can never satisfy, thought the centurion ironically, fixing over her head the titulus plank with the just two words on it: Daughter of the Traitor.

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First minute on the cross.
Wendy still cannot decide what is the worst: the horrific pain in her wrists or similar pain in her feet or the crowd of her relatives, friends, neighbors, strangers and officials, including priests and priestesses, looking at her nudity or the certainess that her body will rot on the cross and her soul will never reach the afterlife.

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An unusual background of what appears to be a Medieval town?

And here we are at Andyman’s “view from behind” phase. love it!
Agreed!
 
The facial expression of Marcia evolved from the face of a cold and proud aristocrat and a woman of power to that of a surprised and insecured wife when she was accused of the adultery to that of a broken one when she heard the sentence to that of a hurt and terrified girl when being stripped, expulsed from the city and nailed to the wood and finally to that of an abused little child when she was dying helplessly on her cross.

However it was not an easy task for any of the onlookers to focus on the face of the crucified Marcia, because of her wonderful adult feminine charms exposed to everyone's eye despite of her childish facial expression.

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Matombe had a wife called Mabaka. She gave birth to two of his children. He had more wives, of course, and more children, however Mabaka was the most proud, independent and sometimes even disobetient wife.

Matombe was a king of a small nation, but not very war-loving one. They were descendants of the far forgotten Kush tribes and now their special ability was an agriculture, not a weaponry. They were peaceful neighbours to the Carthaginians and they were deeply impressed when they realized that one day the Carthaginians disappeared, destroyed by the Romans, a mighty nation from the other shore of the Sea.

Matombe wanted to live quietly as he lived up to now so he took his courtmen and wives and priests and few guards - not very impressive as they were armed with wooden maces and bows - and went to the nearest camp of the victors to congratulate them and to offer peace to them. The Roman legate approved the king's proposal, however in return he demanded a dozen of slaves and a dozen of slave women to be delivered to the Romans. Perhaps Matombe never realized that the demand was a fancy of a Roman legion officer and not a will of the Emperor.

Matombe prepared his people to the sacrifice they are asked for. He had few dozen of prisoners so he easily selected twelve men but the problem was with females. After many attempts, he finally succeed and twelve girls and unmarried women from the poorest families agreed to travel overseas to work for new masters. Perhaps they didn't understand what is a real meaning of a term "slave women" for the Romans, but they were indeed very poor and the year was very hot and the lake near their village nearly disappeared so they would be happy with any kind of job if they would only have water to drink and a bread to eat.

The only obstacle was Mabaka. She was perhaps more wise or at least more farsighted than her husband, she heard him talking with the legate and moreover she heard a legate words (they talked Carthaginian language of course) and she realized that the two dozens are only the first batch of what the Roman's would demand from their new allies. So, she protested against the idea of sending the slaves to them. Of course, the king's wife was not a king or independent queen herself, so Matombe ignored her speech but decided to send her together with the warriors escorting the slaves to the Roman camp to allow her speak with the legate herself and tell him her opinion if she thought she was wise and brave enough. And Mabaka agreed and the next morning she departed with four maids and twenty warriors and a twenty four slave men and women.

And this was the last time Matombe had seen her wife Mabaka and her four maids as well as his twenty warriors, because the legate after listening of the Mabaka speech ordered her to be flogged, raped, impaled and crucified and her warriors to be disarmed and her maids together with twelve prisoners and twelve poor village women to be fully unclothed and to be walked in chains to the nearest harbour and sent to the port in Ostia and to the Rome as his gift to the Senate.

To be precise, Matombe met Mabaka once again, when he travelled to the Roman camp again after half a year, but he didn't find the Romans here. They abandoned the camp returning to their mainland, no longer required in Africa after the destruction of the Carthago. But Matombe never recognized his wife Mabaka, looking at her skeleton still nailed to the cross and pierced with a pole, half-buried in the desert sand few paces from the former Roman camp walls.

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First, Marcia's sad story:
 

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Some named victims:
 

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When the summer of 218 BCE turned to fall but the fate of Saguntum was still at stake, Publius Cornelius Scipio was preparing his troops to help the city besieged by the Hannibal army in the province of Hispania (while Hannibal himself decided to attack the Roman border on the Rhine next spring). He sent his envoys to renew the alliances with Ebro estuary inhabitants and he found out that some of his old allies joined Indibilis, the chief of Ilergetes, a strong and hostile Iberian tribe, cooperating with Hamilcar Barca, one of the best Hannibal commanders. Scipio was very angry and he took his anger out on their ambassador, calling him and his tribe betrayers of the Roman peace. The representant of the unfaithful ally was killed by the tumultous crowd. Plundering his villa Scipio soldiers found few terrified slaves: men (and killed them) and women (and raped them, and then killed them too), but the most valuable finding was a daughter of the late ambassador, hiding herself on the attic. They brought her triumphally to the headquarters. Scipio was very pleased. The same morning he received news from the war theatre and they were as bad as possible: Hannibal finally took Saguntum and slaughtered its inhabitants. Scipio's wrath exploded and when he saw nineteen years old Inez, he ordered the hungry, tired, terrified and weeping girl to be immediately crucified.

As one can see, the info on the titulus was not true: Inez never was a hostage, however this label (added by the decurion leading the execution) justified the Scipio's cruelty and allowed his legionnaires to abuse and torture the poor creature as they wished: she represented and personificated all the Iberian traitors. Gang raped, mutilated and nailed in an extremely painful position at the sunrise she died before the sunset.

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My master was murdered.
I witnessed her death, and I saw the agressor, but he saw me as well and show me the blood-covered knife so I was too scared to cry for help.

How stupid am I... I should have begged him to push this knife between my ribs... and die quick and pure death... or drink a poison from the secret box of my master... but I didn't... and now... now it's too late... too late... The sentence was to be expected: the three short words "Pone serva crucem!" - "Load the slave woman with a crux!" - meant everything save the pure, quick and painless death. Why, oh, why hadn't I begged him for the stroke of the knife...?

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