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The Throwaway Girl - a new story by Jedakk

  • Thread starter Deleted member jedakk
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Rest easy! The title of tomorrow's chapter is "The Nailing" wherein a crucifixion takes place - finally. I know this has been quite a buildup to get to this point. Don't know if anyone is bored, but I'm sure they are impatient.

I actually really like the parts where we find out why the person is going to be crucified and their whipping and carrying, so I really enjoyed the aspects of the story so far and do not mind the wait to it. Looking forward to the nailing tomorrow still!
 
Chapter 17 is titled "The Nailing." We've followed her through all of the preparation for this, and now she's terrified as she counts down the minutes left before they nail her to the cross.

One difference here is the cross is a little taller than usual, ten feet rather than eight or less. This puts it out of range for having a couple of tall guys lift the crosspiece and victim up, so I had to do some engineering and design a convenient way to do that. My solution was a block and tackle hung from a gin pole. A "gin pole" is just a vertical pole from which you can hang a pulley arrangement, i.e. a "block and tackle." This gin pole consists of two eight-foot sections of two-inch steel tubing that just push together, a "swage fitting." The gin pole straps to the back of the upright post with ordinary nylon straps like cargo straps. It would be a snap for the wranglers to set that up and take it down in minutes using a ladder. The other details of how the block and tackle connects to the crosspiece are in the story.

Another innovation is the executioner uses a dead-blow hammer to drive the nails. I think this might work better than a solid iron hammer for driving nails through flesh although I've never tried it and don't own a dead-blow hammer to test. The main thing is they control rebound so the hammer doesn't bounce when you strike something.

Ellie's titulus attaches to the top of her cross with double-sided tape rather than a nail. I wondered whether that might work, researched double-sided tape technology and found that 3M Company has an industrial-strength double-sided tape people use for constructing buildings in place of nails or bolts. There's apparently a tall building in Dubai that is built that way. So holding a titulus to a cross should be no problem!

And finally, you will see that Ellie's titulus contains a QR code! It works, although it doesn't contain a link, just some text. If you scan it with your smart phone you can read a few details about Ellie that aren't shown on her titulus.

With that, here's the chapter. It is long, so it will be split into at least two parts.

Chapter 17: The Nailing​

Ellie stood shackled to the post sobbing, trembling in terror, counting down the swiftly dwindling minutes of her life until they crucified her. Her stomach ached with fear. She was nauseated, felt like she was going to vomit, but there was nothing in her empty stomach to throw up. Everywhere she turned her eyes there were people staring at her.

I’m naked, I’m going to die on the cross, and these people are laughing, taking pictures and selfies with me in the background, just like Alice said, Ellie thought.

There ought to be something I can do, some way to escape this… what they’re going to do to me!

“OW! Dammit! Son of a bitch!” Ellie said angrily, flinching as one of the wranglers passing by reached out to pinch one of her nipples.

Every time they walked by her, and they walked by a lot it seemed, Bill and the other wranglers would reach out and pinch her nipples, squeeze her breasts, grope her pussy or ass. Ellie tried her best to keep her eyes straight ahead and remain as stoic as she could, since she was powerless to defend herself.

She couldn’t avoid flinching, squealing, cursing them, their mothers and their sisters when they touched her breasts, crossing a knee over to try to fend off groping hands or letting her face show shock. Like a sideshow at a circus, her humiliation entertained the crowd while they waited impatiently for her execution to begin. They laughed and poked fun at her misery.

The cameramen were always there, hovering around her, kneeling, videoing from all angles. Just then Ken McDonald, the reporter, appeared in front of her again.

“Here we are talking to Ellie Ruck!” He said, giving the camera a perfect smile. “Ms. Ruck is waiting to be crucified! How do you feel, Ellie?”

“Huh? How do I feel? They’re about to n-nail me to a cross, for God’s sake!”

“And tell us, Ellie, are you afraid?”

“What the fuck is the matter with you? I-I’m fucking terrified! All I can do…” Ellie sobbed, tried to gather herself, “All I can do is watch that fucking timer up there, counting down the… the minutes of my life… Hell yeah I-I’m so fucking scared I can hardly breathe!”

“Well, If you were with us earlier, we showed you Ellie’s whipping, and you can see some of the results of that.”

The cameraman moved around her to zoom in on her upper back. “Lots of whip marks and some blood here, although that long ponytail covers quite a bit you can’t see.”

Ellie realized the closeups of her back were on the big monitor. She looked up at it in horror. The camera panned down the curve of her back, showing all of the angry red and purple marks and blood there, arriving at her round and shapely ass. The view orbited around it as the cameraman knelt to get a view from the underside.

“And the whip covered her buttocks as well. I have to say, what a nice ass you have, Ellie!”

She didn’t know how to respond to that, whether to be offended or not. She thought she had a pretty good ass; it had served her well. “Uh, thank you?”

Ellie’s whipped ass filled the big video screen above her. There was applause, hoots and whistles from the crowd.

“The whip did not stop there, no, there are marks on the insides of her thighs, and,” the cameraman duckwalked sideways to pan the camera around to Ellie’s front, “her genitals did not escape the reach of the whip, either!”

Just when Ellie thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse, the front of her cleft filled the big monitor above her.

“Oh no, oh my God!” Ellie said, staring up at it. What the fuck! She thought, My-my pussy is filling TV screens all over the world! Oh my God!

“Yes, this kind of thing would have been off-limits in a whipping for a lesser crime, but as we know, often nothing is off-limits for someone about to be crucified! There are wrap-around marks there,” he pointed to the red marks that went up her abdomen, “and it looks like one went right up the center of her cleft!” He touched a finger to her hood, now an angry red, and traced it up to the top.

Ellie shivered prettily at the touch, gasped and snarled, “Stop it!”

“Now Ellie is a bit testy, today of all days, understandably so. In a few minutes she’s going to begin suffering the slowest, most painful form of execution ever devised and she has strong feelings about that!”

The cameraman panned underneath, showing a straight-through view of Ellie’s crotch.

“Is that…” Ken McDonald said uncertainly, “is that a gold ring in your clit? Or is it just in your hood?”

The crowd was cheering and applauding more loudly than ever. Ellie looked up at the big monitor to see the view of her hood and clitoris filling the screen. She quickly crossed her knees and pushed her hips back as far as she could, trying to hide.

“You son of a bitch!” Ellie gasped, beyond humiliated. Fuck me! Now the whole world has gotten a good look at my clit with its little gold ring! Well, they won’t get to keep staring at it!

There was laughter from the crowd, who were staring up at the big screens. On the right one was angry naked Ellie, butt pushed back and knees crossed to hide herself from the cameraman in front, and on the left-hand screen the cameraman kneeling behind her had a perfect view of her bulging pussy lips framed nicely between her thighs. Displayed prominently was her little gold ring with her deep pink clit set like a jewel on it.

“We’ll be back with Ellie later; I know she needs to prepare herself for what she’s about to face!” McDonald moved away but the cameramen remained, hovering, looking for anything to show the audience.

The lifting rig, a gin pole, consisted of a tall two-inch diameter pipe that stood behind and was strapped to the upright post of the cross. A man on a ladder was working on it just then, strapping it to the top of the post. It rose about six feet higher than the post and a block and tackle were hung from its top.

The bottom block of the block and tackle, which the wranglers had lowered in preparation, had a horizontal pipe called a spreader bar hung from it. The spreader bar was about the same width as the crosspiece and had dangling square brackets on its ends. The brackets would slip loosely over the ends of Ellie’s crosspiece, fitting so it couldn’t twist while they were lifting her. Otherwise, her weight on the nails could pull the crosspiece downward and break her wrists.

Ropes hung from each end of the spreader bar for the wranglers to use to keep the crosspiece from swinging and tilting as it, together with Ellie’s writhing and struggling body, were lifted. The crosspiece was notched in the back, a wide wedge-shaped mortise with a slot open to the back that would slide onto a matching tenon at the top of the post and join the two parts together.

Ellie understood none of that. To her, it was just a jumble of dangling ropes and pulleys that would be used to pull her bleeding body up onto the cross. It meant screaming agony for her. It was horrifying.

They’re going to use that to hoist me up by the nails they’re going to drive through my wrists! Oh God, how… how am I going to bear that agony?

Ellie glanced up fearfully at the huge countdown timer on the video screen above. Ten minutes and forty-three seconds left. She felt herself sagging, legs growing weak with fear, her butt rubbing against the wood behind her. Her breathing was rapid, ragged as she sobbed. She heard the clicks of cell phone cameras, lots of them, as a continuous background along with the chatter of several thousand people waiting to watch her suffer.

The wranglers had set up a folding table behind the cross and were laying out tools and equipment for her punishment there. There was the executioner’s hammer, like a small sledgehammer, the wooden handle stained black where it had been spattered with the blood of many others. There were two bottles that looked like alcohol, some nylon webbing straps. Ellie saw the smooth, shiny nails for her crucifixion, hand-forged, traditional square-cut, tapered nails with oversized heads. Four of them, lying on a blue surgical towel.

They were size double-zero crucifixion nails, the smallest size made. They were the size the GACP manual specified for crucifying a petite woman of Ellie’s weight. Their shanks were precisely eight millimeters square in their top three inches, the part that would end up inside Ellie’s wrists and feet. Like all crucifixion nails, they were eight inches long, chisel points to avoid splitting the wood, edges smoothed to reduce the tearing of flesh. They had been sterilized like surgical instruments to minimize the chance of infection.

Ellie didn’t know any of that. To her, they just looked huge.

Those can’t go in my wrists and feet! They’re just… too big!

She stared at them in horrified fascination, felt her wrists ache.

They were taking something out of a cardboard box and setting it on the table. The box had “Ellie Ruck” written in marker on its side. The thing was somehow familiar but not exactly... She realized it was upside-down.

That fucking sedile, she thought. Shit! It still looks different…

Her eyes traced the horns down to their bases, the shapes. They were wider at the base than the dildos on the thing they’d used on her at the prison. That had been a toy after all. This thing…

She squeezed her legs together, whimpering in fear.

Like a rhinoceros in reverse, the back horn was longer than the front one, maybe five inches tall. Both horns were wickedly curved. The length of the thing, which she guessed was from the post to her clit, was about six inches. These things were designed to torture a woman’s anatomy and humiliate her.

This one was specially made to fit between Ellie Ruck’s legs.

Shit! That’s what my big mouth got me!

One of the wranglers came with a plastic bucket of water, a squeeze bottle, rag and towel and set it in front of her.

“Give me your foot,” he said as he knelt.

“What?!” She exclaimed, frightened, shifting her feet back.

“Not going to hurt you! Got to clean your feet up so you don’t get tetanus or something. Can’t have you dying too soon of an infection!”

She lifted her right foot and let him use the rag to scrub it. He squirted the disinfectant soap on it, scrubbed it some more, even in between her toes, dried it and took the other one.

Probably the last pleasant thing I’ll ever feel, She thought.

He gathered everything up and left. She realized the crowd had gone quiet and looked around to see what was happening. Then the countdown started and she sagged as her legs went weak.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!...”

It sounded like New Year’s at Times Square, but there would never be another new year for Ellie.

All four of the wranglers surrounded her. One was behind her, unfastening her cuffs.

Ellie was begging, “Oh please no, no, don’t do this to me please don’t do this…” The ache of fear in the pit of her stomach was unbearable.

Oh no no they’re going to nail me to the cross NOW oh no please no…

She bent forward as much as she could, retched, gasped, could hardly get her breath. A chill ran through her despite the warmth of the day and her body shuddered.

Even after her wrists were unshackled and released, she tried to keep her arms hooked over the top of the T-post behind her, knowing when they took her off it they would crucify her. She was trembling in terror, sobbing “No no no…” The sweat that trickled down her body had a hard, metallic smell to it, the smell of fear.

The wranglers on either side of her took her by her upper arms and peeled them up and off the T-post. When they got her loose, she almost collapsed. They had to support her as they forced her to stagger to her place about five feet in front of her crosspiece. They turned her to face the crowd and remained standing there gripping her arms. The wrangler on her left was the one she knew as Bill.

“Oh no no you can’t no don’t please don’t crucify meeee! All I did w-was hand out leaflets! I-I don’t deserve to be nailed to a cross!” Ellie sobbed and begged.

“Just like every one of ‘em!” The wrangler on her right said to the other one. “They’re never guilty, never deserve to be crucified, don’t recognize they got a debt to pay.”

The cameramen and stationary cameras mounted all around recorded and broadcast everything in multiple frames on the big screens. National and international TV programming of her execution began at noon with millions of viewers.

Unlike at her whipping, this time it was the judge who had condemned her who read her sentence but skipped the whipping portion to give only the crucifixion part.

“…there to be nailed to a cross where she shall hang for a time to exceed five days, thereafter as necessary until she is pronounced dead.

“She is further sentenced to endure a Class 3, Gender Specific sedile. She will remain nude for her entire punishment. After being pronounced dead, her body shall remain on the cross for twenty-four hours before removal, cremation and disposal of her ashes by flushing them into the city sewage system.”

When he finished, the judge turned to face Ellie.

“Place the traitor on the cross,” he said.

The crowd roared.

John the executioner in his black mask stood waiting behind the crosspiece, his hammer in his right hand and two of the eight-inch crucifixion nails in his left.

Oh no no no this can’t be happening no… Ellie thought, dazed. Everything seemed to be spinning around her.

Ellie’s knees turned to water and she almost collapsed again, but the wranglers, practiced at this, leaned her backwards towards the ground as they knelt to get her body in position for the executioner to nail her wrists to the cross.

Ellie’s crucifixion had begun.

“AAAAAHHHHHHH!” Ellie screamed in panic as she fell, tried to catch herself, hit on her raw ass and was pushed down onto her back. She twisted, fought and struggled desperately to escape, but the wranglers on either side of her each held one of her straining arms in an iron grip. She screamed, sucked in a breath and screamed again, over and over.

No no no this is a nightmare it can’t be real… Ellie thought.

The crowd cheered, shouted “Crucify her! Crucify her!”

“AAAAHHHHHHH!! Uhhhh!! AAAHHHHH!! NO! STOP! I-I’m not ready no please don’t don’t hurt meeeee!” Ellie screamed.

The one on her left, Bill, thrust his left hand between her legs, curled his fingers up around the curve of her ass and easily drew her small, writhing body, kicking and screaming, upward toward the crosspiece. The rough leather glove on the heel of his hand ground into the opening of her vagina as he dragged her welted back over the freshly mowed grass and settled her shoulders onto the center of the timber.

(Continued)
 
Chapter 17: The Nailing (Second Part, Continued)

When Ellie felt the rough wood on the back of her shoulders, she knew she was doomed. She screamed, cried, dug her heels in, arched her back and fought with everything she had to escape what she knew was about to be done to her. But Bill forced a knee between her legs, rotated it to push them apart, then the big wrangler was on top of her with both knees between her legs, forcing her thighs out widely to either side. It made it nearly impossible for her to get any power to use her legs to struggle.

The wrangler on Ellie’s right stretched her right arm out on the beam while Bill adjusted her position a little, put his left hand on her chest and leaned against it, firmly pinning her down on the beam. Ellie was helpless.

Bill gripped her left forearm and held it up while another of the wranglers knelt and used an antiseptic wipe to quickly clean the area where the nail would penetrate, front and back.

Even though Ellie was fighting for her life Bill easily overwhelmed her, bending her elbow to ninety degrees, forcing her hand, palm up, onto the beam, aligning the tattooed “X” mark on the base of her palm with the measured scribe marks on the face of the beam.

Ellie was helpless beneath the weight and strength of the two wranglers. For bigger, stronger male victims they had other ways to handle them, but for a petite woman like Ellie, possessed of so much less strength than the big wranglers, it made a better show for the onlookers if they wrestled them into place barehanded. And it played great on television; the cameras loved it.

John the executioner was ready and wasted no time. Ellie watched in horror, gasping for breath, helpless as he placed the point of one of the big iron nails against the “X” on her wrist. He rotated it to get the chisel point oriented across the grain of the timber and a flat side of its square shank turned across her wrist.

“OHHHH!” Ellie groaned in pain, staring in horror at the big spike that was about to impale her wrist, squirming in the grip of the two wranglers.

Oh God oh no they could still stop, stop now, don’t hit that nail don’t don’t… Ellie’s mind screamed.

There was a hush as every eye watched the drama on the big video displays, They could all clearly hear Ellie’s pitiful begging, amplified through the sound system, broadcast all over the world.

“Please, please don’t! Don’t hurt me, I didn’t know!” She sobbed. “Oh God it was only leaflets please don’t please don’t pleeeeease…”

The executioner’s hammer was a dead blow type, its head partially filled with lead shot so it would transfer all its energy to the nail, driving it deeper. Just before he struck, he pressed down hard with the point of the nail to compress the soft flesh and keep it from rebounding when the nail drove into it.

The hammer came down, a half-stroke just to pierce her wrist and pin it to the wood. The dull clank of the hammer against the nail was amplified through the speakers, followed instantly by Ellie’s grunt of shock, then her strident scream of agony.

“UNNNH!! AAHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

Everyone could see her frantic writhing, kicking, digging her heels into the grass. She lost her bladder again and a stream of urine squirted, arcing into the grass between her wide-spread legs and those of the wrangler on top of her.

John ignored her screams and raised his hammer high for the second stroke. He brought it down harder this time, driving the spike deep into the wood with a hollow booming sound and another scream. Bill released his hold on her left forearm and leaned to his left to give John more room to swing. It took four more heavy blows to drive the nail deep into the beam, its head almost against her wrist.

Ellie sobbed and stared in horror at the nail protruding from her wrist, felt the throbbing pressure of compressed flesh and tortured nerves where it had forced its way through. There wasn’t much blood.

“Oooohhhhh…” She moaned.

Oh my God oh my God oh my God I-they nailed my wrist to the beam! They’re nailing me to the cross! I-what can I do how can I… Ellie thought in panic, sobbing and groaning in pain.

The wrangler who had been holding Ellie’s right arm outstretched on the beam passed her arm to Bill, following procedure, not releasing it until Bill nodded to confirm he had it. One of the others swabbed her wrist with the antiseptic, front and back. John the executioner knelt behind the beam as soon as the wranglers who had been there moved.

Ellie saw the black-masked executioner above her and moaned. “Oh please no no more no more don’t do this please it hurts so much…” She begged as he settled into place.

Bill positioned the tattooed “X” on Ellie’s right wrist according to the scribe marks, John placed the point of the second nail against it and brought his hammer down without pausing, pinning her wrist to the beam. Again there was only the metallic sound of the hammer on the nail head as the point tore through living flesh and wedged bones apart. Ellie’s agonized scream once again rent the air in Jones Park and in homes across the world.

Another blow and there was no longer any need for Bill to hold Ellie down. He stood up and stepped out of the way of the cameras. Free to struggle, Ellie arched her back, flopping like a struggling fish, writhing and screaming frantically as John finished driving the second nail through her wrist. In a few moments he finished, stood up and left Ellie to writhe, moan and sob in pain.

I can’t… get my hands free! Nails… nails are holding me, oh my God, hands are nailed to the beam! Ellie’s mind screamed in panic.

The cameramen moved around her, zooming in on her face, putting her expressions of agony on the big screens for everyone to see.

The crowd, which had been hushed as they watched the drama unfold, began to talk. Some nodded yes, the traitor was being fairly punished and it was good for everyone to see as a warning.

Some were impressed by the crucifixion crew’s efficiency; no fumbling around or lost motion, everything done in perfect order as it should be, one of the better ones they’d seen.

Others pitied her, a young girl who did something stupid, but hey, the law is the law, and how could they make exceptions for stupidity?

There were discussions about public executions; here was a traitor who, by law, deserved to be crucified. It was only fair to execute her in public, to allow the people the satisfaction justice was being done.

“But is it really necessary to have her naked?” A man asked.

“Certainly,” an older woman said, “Women always demanded equal rights, and now we have them. It would be hypocritical to expect special consideration. Nudity is part of the punishment for men, and women can’t be allowed special treatment!”

“But our kids are gonna see the videos! What are they supposed to think?”

“Maybe they oughta think it would be a lot better if they don’t break the law!”

Ellie’s screams gradually subsided to deep moans of agony. She blinked as she stared up into the cloudless sky, the noontime sun blinding her, barely aware of the crowd watching her. Her naked body trembled with pain.

They’re not done… They’re going to drag me by my wrists! I can’t bear it oh God what will I do I have to keep them from pulling me use my legs somehow… she thought.

Two of the wranglers, Bill and Jack, appeared on either side of the crosspiece and knelt to take hold of its ends. As they slipped their fingers underneath the beam, Ellie sucked in her breath, gritted her teeth and pulled her heels up as close to her ass as she could. Her panic pushed out any thought of modesty.

“Oh God no please I’m not ready I need more time don’t do this just a little longer oh please…” Ellie moaned and babbled.

“Ready?” Bill said to Jack, who nodded back.

Together, they lifted the beam, pulling Ellie’s arms out taut and lifting her body into a sitting position. She screamed in agony and scrambled to get her feet into position to try to push, keep them from dragging her entire weight at least.

It didn’t help.

They began moving toward the post a step at a time, dragging Ellie with them, ignoring her wild screams that were once again amplified through the sound system for everyone to hear.

“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!! Uhhhhhh! AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!! STOP!! STOP!! PLEASE OHHH!!” Her body twisted as she scrabbled with her feet, trying to get purchase to ease the pull against the nails in her wrists. Alice had tried to have Ellie carried rather than dragged, but crucifixion practice stipulated this as part of her punishment. And clearly, Ellie was being punished.

They dragged Ellie until they had her up against the post with the beam above her head. She sat slumped with her legs spread at odd angles, her face red, chest heaving, gasping for breath, sobbing and groaning.

“Hang on,” Bill said.

They stood and watched Ellie for a little over a minute. Jack said, “What are we supposed to be doing?”

“It’s a commercial break. We have to wait till the TV comes back to us.” Bill pointed up at the video display above them where a countdown timer was showing time left for a commercial break. They had another thirty seconds.

“Oh, ok, of course. I thought we were ‘taking a moment.’ If I’d known I’d have gone for coffee!” Jack and Bill laughed. Ellie either didn’t hear or didn’t find it funny.

They waited. Bill started whistling the theme from the TV show “Jeopardy,” the one they always played while contestants were writing down their answers.

When the timer ran out, Ken McDonald, standing in front of one of the cameras said, “Welcome back to the crucifixion of Ellie Ruck! If you’re just joining us, Ellie was convicted of treason and sentenced to death on the cross. Her court outburst earned her an increased sentence – five days until she’s allowed to die, nudity for her entire sentence, and a big one, the Class 3, Gender Specific sedile!”

“When we left,” he continued, “We had witnessed the drama of the executioner nailing each of Ellie’s wrists to her crosspiece. And then we saw the wranglers pick up that crosspiece with Ellie’s wrists nailed to it and drag her by her wrists to the base of her post. It was only ten feet, but her naked body writhing was something you’d never forget! And her agonized screams would give you chills! As we pick up the action, she’s about to be lifted up and hung on her cross!”

“That’s our cue,” Bill said. “Ready?”

“Yep!”

“Go!”

Ellie screamed as the two wranglers lifted the crosspiece higher, jerking her arms taut and pulling her butt off the ground before she could get her legs under her. She scrambled to get on her feet and finally managed to stand. They stopped with her crosspiece above her head. She was standing in front of the post, moaning and gasping for breath.

“And folks, this is the last time Ellie Ruck’s feet will touch the ground!” Ken McDonald said. “Let’s see if she’s coherent enough to talk.”

Two other wranglers were pulling the spreader bar into position above the crosspiece and slipping the lifting brackets over its ends. They made sure the trailing ropes from the spreader bar’s ends were free and out of the way. Bill and Jack eased their hold on the crosspiece, making sure the lifting rig would hold it, then moved aside.

“Ellie,” the reporter said, “did you realize this is the last time your feet are going to touch the ground?”

Ellie didn’t look at him at first, her eyes glazed with pain. “Oh God oh God…”

“Ellie? Are you with us?”

“W-what? All I did w-was.. I handed out l-leaflets…”

“Yes! That’s right! But it wasn’t just handing out leaflets, was it? No, it was what the leaflets said, you know, about overthrowing the government!”

“Uh… yes?”

“Ellie, do you know what they are about to do to you now?”

“Y-yes… Oh God, hurt so bad!” She looked around, dazed. “They’re about to… pull me up, hang me on the… cross. They’re crucifying meee!” She sobbed. “Oh please, I didn’t hurt anyone! Don’t do this to meee!”

“And there you have it folks, Ellie’s a little out of it, sounds like she’s taking this hard. We’ll catch her from time to time and get her opinion on how her execution is going from her perspective. Stay tuned!”

“Are we ready?” Bill asked the other three wranglers.

“Yes!” Jack, behind the post, now holding the hoisting rope said.

The other two, holding the trailing ropes that controlled the spreader bar as it went up, just nodded.

“No! No! I – I’m not ready!” Ellie yelled.

There was laughter from the crowd. Bill ignored her.

“Go!” He said.

Jack heaved on the hoisting rope and the crosspiece rose, pulling Ellie’s feet off the ground. Her scream was piercing. Her legs kicked and strained desperately to reach the ground, the face of the post behind her, any support. All of her weight was hanging from the big iron spikes through her wrists. The pain was unimaginable.

“And there she goes, folk! Taking her up now. the bottom of her crosspiece will be about ten feet off the ground! We think the Romans used a cross less than eight feet tall for almost all of the people they wanted to execute, and that worked fine for their purposes, but we like ‘em taller so everyone can see!”

“This lifting rig you see those big strong wranglers using is not much different from the technology the Romans had. It’s what they used to raise the sails on their ships, the sunshades in the Colosseum, all kinds of things. Very old, basic technology that continues to do the job.”

The two wranglers on the trailing ropes kept the spreader bar and crosspiece level as it went up, only having to counter the motion of Ellie’s struggling, writhing and kicking and avoid being kicked by her themselves. The crosspiece slid along the face of the post until it got up to the shoulder near the top, where it moved back a couple of inches to rest against the tenon.

Just a little higher, the tenon narrowed to less than three inches wide, narrow enough to slip through the slot on the back of the crosspiece. The two wranglers expertly worked the crosspiece as it slowly rose and slid it back onto the tenon. Bill gave Jack the “stop” sign, a closed fist, then a quick thumbs down – drop it. Jack gave the rope a foot of slack, and the crosspiece dropped all at once and stopped suddenly, fully engaged and locked in place. Ellie’s struggles would only work it down tighter.

The impact jolted Ellie, sending a sudden bolt of agony through her that made her head swim and her vision darken as she fainted. She hung limp on the cross.

“Uh-oh, looks like the pain was too much for Ellie! She’s fainted,” Ken McDonald said. “Let me quickly assure you this happens a lot! It may be the first time for Ellie Ruck, but it won’t be the last! Crucifixion is so painful it overloads the nervous system as it has in her case, but after a few minutes she’ll wake up and be raring to go again! She’ll be disoriented. Wait and see how long it will take her to remember where she is!”

“Let’s get the rigging down and loaded up!” Bill said.

Jack brought the ladder back, climbed up and disconnected the rope, slipped the lifting brackets off the crosspiece and handed the spreader bar down to one of the others. He unstrapped the gin pole from the back of the cross and climbed down while another wrangler unstrapped it at the bottom. They eased it down, unhooked the block and tackle at its top, disconnected the pole into two eight-foot sections and took it all over to their van. Disassembly took less than three minutes.

(Continued)
 
Chapter 17: The Nailing (Part 3 Continued)

While they were stowing it away, Jack went back up the ladder carrying the neat, white plastic sign for the top of Ellie’s cross. He peeled off the backing on the adhesive strip on the sign’s back and leaned against the top of the cross to steady himself. Using both hands to position the sign and make sure it was level, he pulled it back against the top of the tenon so it would stick tightly.

The sign said:

Ellie Titulus.jpg
The QR code linked to a website that contained details of Ellie’s background, her crime, sentence, pictures, videos, and updates as Ellie’s crucifixion progressed. There were already short videos and pictures from prison, including the final fitting for her sedile, with the guards strapping her to a cross, and just-uploaded video teasers and pictures from her whipping. There would be high-resolution streaming videos available as pay-per-view and as full downloads for sale through the site.

People in the crowd were pointing their phones at the sign and scanning the QR code, looking to see what was on the site. The QR code was also up on the bottom right corner of the video screens for those not able to get close enough to scan it from Ellie’s sign, and was printed in the program.

Ellie began to stir, tossing her head, her long ponytail swinging side-to-side. She groaned as consciousness and agony began to return, and then panic. Her legs began to move and she realized there was nothing beneath her feet.

I’m hanging! They hoisted me up and now I’m hanging! She thought.

She felt the timber behind her pressing between her shoulders and the center of her buttocks. She turned her head and looked up at her left hand, saw the nail and the little seep of blood trailing down her arm. She threw her head back and screamed, writhing, struggling to try to push up with her feet against the face of the cross.

After a few minutes her struggles grew weaker as she exhausted herself. She hung there, defeated, groaning and sobbing, her naked body twitching as spasms of agony drove it, her head tossing, falling forward then arching back.

“And it looks like Ellie is back with us!” Ken McDonald exclaimed. “Ellie, how do you feel?” He held the mike up toward her face.

“Fuck. You!” Ellie hissed.

“Was being dragged up onto your cross by your nailed wrists as painful as you thought it would be?”

“You son of a bitch! OWWOO! Oh God… W-What do you th-think? Y-you… OWWW! Shit! You can’t imagine h-how m-much - UNH! – this h-hurts… AAHHHHHHH!!” She stammered in agony.

“There you have it folks! Ellie Ruck, halfway through being nailed to the cross, appears to be in quite a bit of pain with her crucifixion not yet officially started!”

“You, sir!” Ken McDonald said to Bill.

“Huh?”

“Could you tell us what it’s like, doing this job?”

“Well, only thing I’ve done I can compare it to is working calves.”

“Huh?” The reporter exclaimed, confused.

“Calves don’t cooperate. Whatever it is they think you want them to do, they ain’t gonna do that. They will kick you, and you’re lucky if you don’t catch one in the balls, they will piss and shit on you. You go to castrate them or brand them and they will struggle and fight back any way they can!”

“So a prisoner you’re executing is like a calf?”

“A whole lot worse. They’re smarter and more dangerous. They don’t appreciate us even though we’re trying to help them.”

“HELP them!”

“Yeah! They broke the law. They know damn well they did wrong, and it eats at ‘em. Probably did a lot more than whatever they got caught doing. And now they owe for that. The court says the price for what they did is to be whipped, crucified, humiliated, and deep down, as bad as it’s gonna be, they’d have to admit that’s only fair. And they couldn’t put themselves through all that, not on their own. So we’re like facilitators, we help them do what they really need to, and their souls are better for it!”

“Uh, ok, well hmm… So when they’re screaming in agony and you’re holding, say, a naked woman like Ellie down while her wrists are being nailed, how do you handle that?”

“Oh, I don’t pay it any mind at all! I do my job and just ignore all that. This is punishment! It’s hard and it’s supposed to hurt. And I know it’s good for their soul!”

“And ok, folks, that’s Bill from the punishment contractor Crucifixion Masters, Inc. who is handling Ellie Ruck’s crucifixion today!”

“Where do you come up with this stuff?” John laughed. “That was the best yet!”

“Hell, I don’t know! It’s a curse! I can’t help it!” Bill chuckled.

“Think she’s ready? John studied Ellie, hanging on her cross.

“Shit, let’s ask her! Ellie! You ready for us to nail your feet?”

Ellie looked down at him through pain-filled eyes. Oh no oh no they’re going to nail my feet to the cross I can’t bear it oh I don’t want them to nail me any more oh no… she thought.

“Please! P-please don’t hurt me any AHHHHHHH!! Ohhhh God, Ohhhh! Any more please p-please don’t...“ Ellie sobbed.

“I heard her say please!” John grinned.

“Strap her ankles, boys!” Bill said to the other wranglers. “Let’s get her feet nailed.”

Jack already had the webbing strap they used for this purpose in hand. He approached from behind, out of Ellie’s sight and stood to the side of the cross to work for safety’s sake, in case she tried to kick him. Her feet hung about four feet off the ground.

He trapped her ankles in the looped strap and quickly cinched it tight around them before she could react. She immediately panicked and began to struggle, terrified of what was coming.

“NO!! NO!! You can’t… NO!! Please, no more nails! No more nails!” Ellie pleaded, even though she knew it was pointless.

Jack passed the free end of the strap around the post, snapped it into its buckle and pulled it tight enough to draw her heels up against the cross.

Another wrangler wiped the tops and soles of Ellie’s feet with the antiseptic, poured a generous amount of the liquid on the cloth and wiped down the area on the wood where her feet would be nailed.

Jack slid the strap up the post until the soles of Ellies feet were flat against it and the tattooed “X” marks on her feet were in line with the measured and scribed mark on the post. He checked that the centerline scribed on the post was between her heels, so her feet would be centered beneath her body, and cinched the strap up tight enough that it would hold Ellie’s weight.

Bill was ready with the second strap, which he wrapped around the post and over the tops of her feet, making sure to leave space around the “X” marks, then cinched it down to pull the soles of her feet tightly against the timber so she couldn’t move them.

Ellie’s thighs were angled outward, fully exposing her to the onlookers. She pushed down on her feet, screamed and froze at the bolt of pain it sent through her wrists when she lightened the pressure on her wounds there. She groaned, afraid to move, trembling as her wrists continued to throb. She blinked back the tears, looked down on the crowd, all staring at her, naked, on display.

Oh God I can push up on my feet now, let my wrists rest for a few minutes… when I do they’ll drive those big nails through my feet! I can’t bear more pain, I can’t! Ellie thought, shaking her head.

“Come on, Ellie!” Bill said, “Up on your feet now, we haven’t got all day!”

“Oh please don’t!” She pleaded, eyes full of pain. “I’m afraid, I know you’ll nail my feet to the cross! Please please no!”

“Remember what I told you before, girl!” John the executioner said. “Don’t want to give me any trouble. I can make it worse for you. I am going to nail your feet, the easy way or the hard way, it’s going to happen. You’re just putting it off and making it worse for yourself. Let me see you move, NOW!”

Ellie sobbed, body trembling, she tried to push up with her legs and avoid pulling with her arms, but couldn’t do it that way. She eased herself back down, breathing hard.

John reached between her legs, found the little gold ring and her clit easily.

“Yeah, Ellie! That ring does make it easier to find your clit!” John said.

He pinched it, not hard, but enough for her to feel the threat. There was a commotion from the crowd, watching what he was doing on the big screens.

“OWW!” Ellie gasped, gritted her teeth, pushed down with her legs and pulled against the nails in her wrists, crying out in pain as she struggled her way upward.

“Strap her knees?” Bill asked. “She can’t take the pain, won’t stay up if we don’t.”

“Yeah,” John said, “probably better. She’ll drop as soon as the first nail goes in, otherwise.”

Jack heard them and already had the strap in hand. He whipped it around Ellie’s knees and cinched it tightly enough behind the post to hold until John finished his work.

John placed the point of one of the big iron spikes against the tattooed “X” on her left foot. He made sure the spike was level, square with the post, then leaned on it to compress the flesh so the point would tear through and not rebound. The point broke her skin; a little trickle of dark blood dribbled down the top of her foot.

Ellie moaned in fear and anticipation. “No no no please don’t please don’t hurt me oh God…”

John touched his hammer to the head of the nail, pulled back for his swing. He could feel her foot squirming under the point of the nail, toes curling and pushing against the wood. He swung the hammer and drove the nail most of the way through.

“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!” Ellie let out a piercing scream, shifted her weight onto her right foot and pulled up on the left one, trying to get it away from the executioner. John brought his hammer down on the nail again, driving it the rest of the way through her foot and into the post. Ellie continued to scream, her body writhing as he struck the long nail again and again. The amplified sounds of her screams and the deep blows of the hammer echoed across the park. The crowd cheered and applauded.

When he had driven the nail down until its head was near the top of her foot, he took out the last nail, placed its point against the tattooed “X” on her right foot. It was the last relatively painless support Ellie had, and that was being taken away. Ellie tried to shift her weight back onto her throbbing left foot. “AAHHHHHHH!!” She screamed as her weight bore down against the iron spike there, pulled against the nails in her wrists to try to take some of her weight.

In pain everywhere, she struggled desperately to pull her right foot away from the executioner, who was already drawing his hammer back for the first blow. She threw her head back and screamed, her naked body writhing as the executioner drove the nail through her right foot and into the timber. Her legs collapsed. She would have dropped to hang by her wrists, but the strap around her knees wouldn’t allow them to bend. She was forced to bear all of her weight on her feet while the executioner swung his hammer and delivered blow after blow to the nail in her right foot. She screamed with every stroke as the iron spike wedged bones apart.

“Ok,” John said as Ellie sobbed and groaned, “let’s get the strap off her knees and set that sedile in place.”

Bill and another wrangler had the sedile, bolt and wrench ready. The hole was already drilled at the proper location in the post based on the final fitting Wooster had done for the sedile, close to Ellie’s knee level.

Bill ran the big sixteen-inch timber bolt through the length of the sedile and waited. As soon as Jack got the strap around Ellie’s knees out of the way she started slipping down. He had to get a hand up under the front of her crotch, catch her and push her back up. He straightened his arm, bracing her up and pressing her ass against the cross while the sedile was being set in place. The crowd loved it.

Bill quickly lined the bolt up with the hole in the post and pushed it through as he positioned the sedile between Ellie’s trembling knees.

“Hang on, this won’t take long,” he said to Jack.

“Take your time,” Jack laughed, “I’ve had worse jobs than holding a hundred-pound girl up by her pussy!”

The other wrangler behind the cross put the washer and nut on the bolt which he spun down finger tight, then finished tightening it with the wrench.

“Ok, you can let her go, that is, if you want to!” He said to Jack.

“Yeah, ok, I suppose all good things must come to an end, huh?” He eased his hand down and saw Ellie’s eyes go wide as she took all of her weight on the nails and began to slip lower.

As a finishing touch Bill squirted a big tube of KY Jelly over the sedile’s horns and smeared the coating over them. “She’ll appreciate us every time she sits on this!” Bill joked.

Ellie was already sinking lower, screaming as every trembling move sent bolts of agony from her wounds, her legs exhausted. She felt the horn press against her ass cheek and pushed her hips forward to lower herself down in front of it. She dropped the last few inches, screaming when the wounds in her wrists impacted against the nails.

She hung suspended by her wrists, her naked body twitching and trembling, groaning and sobbing in agony, eyes wide in panic. Even though the day was already promising to be a hot one, her body felt cold.

“Well,” John observed, hands on his hips looking up at her critically, “I believe she’s crucified boys!”


(End Chapter 17)
 
Great story!!! A technical detail that intrigues me: why does she need to be pushing up on her feet as the nails go in? Thanks for explaining that to me :)

That's one of those details I should have explained somehow in the story. It makes it much easier for the executioner to nail her feet if her lower legs are not in an almost horizontal position. The only examples I have are pictures from "The Serpent's Eye" when they are crucifying Sabina. In this picture where they are preparing Sabina for the executioner to nail her feet, you can see how nearly horizontal her lower legs are:
Sabina Nailing Scene 15x7-72_0001.jpg

We think the legs were bent in crucifixion to enable the victim to push upward and relieve the pain in her wrists, and as time went on, to enable her to breathe more freely. Nobody knows how high the Romans might have placed the feet on the cross, but it undoubtedly varied anyway. I do it this way because I want my victims to be able to move and struggle as freely as possible, and they can only move vertically as much as their legs will flex.

The nails have to go up high on the feet, where the metatarsal bones connect to the dense bony part of the foot. If the nails were not placed up against those bones they would be bearing on soft tissue and would tear the flesh of the foot until they reached the bone anyway, especially during days on the cross.

So the problems an executioner would have at the least are these:
  • He would have to swing the hammer horizontally and carefully so as not to strike the victim's lower leg and perhaps break a bone.
  • The victim could, and probably would, swing her knees sideways, struggling while her feet were being nailed. He would have to ensure he kept out of range of the paths of her knees or risk being hit in the face.
From an executioner's point of view preparing to nail her feet, Sabina would have looked like this:
Sabina Nailing Scene 15x7-132_0001.jpgSabina Nailing Scene 15x7-133_0001.jpgSabina Nailing Scene 15x7-134_0001.jpg

When I wrote "The Serpent's Eye" Sabina was only too glad to lift herself up once they had tied her feet, even though she knew the executioner would nail her feet when she did. He was going to do that anyway, and the pain in her wrists was beyond bearing. She was desperate to relieve that, if only for a few minutes. Here's a picture of her raised up with the executioner about to nail her right foot. With her in that position, he has clear space to swing his hammer and she can't swing her knees and perhaps hit him.
Sabina Nailing Scene 17-9_0001.jpgSabina Nailing Scene 18-12_0001.jpgSabina Nailing Scene 18-51_0001.jpg

I envisioned Ellie to have her feet bound in place with nylon straps rather than ropes, but similar to this. In Sabina's case, when her right foot was nailed, she shifted her weight onto her left foot. When the executioner started to nail her left foot, she began to lose it - there was nothing to rest her weight on that didn't give her agonizing pain. She was starting to collapse back down to hang by her wrists again.
Sabina Nailing Scene 19-51_0001.jpg

That was all in my own imagination of course. So when I wrote "The Throwaway Girl" I had to have the executioner nail Ellie's feet. For that, I had the helpers, whom I called "wranglers," strap her feet in place. Then, when Ellie lifted herself up on her feet, they ran a strap around her knees and the post so she could not drop suddenly when the executioner drove nails through her feet. She actually couldn't take her weight off of the nails in her feet until the strap was removed.

Someone else might write it another way, this is just the way I did it.
 
One of the members whose first language is not English and who is reading this story was confused about the meaning of this passage from Chapter 16: The Via Crucis.

“John! Hey man, good to see you!” Joe said, “How’s that new baby? What’s that, number four? And your oldest in college? You know they’ve finally figured out what causes those!”

“Well, he’s sleeping all night now, which is damn sure a relief! Wife’s pussy is ready for action again, thank God. Cunt hair is coming in just enough to give me beard burn, though and that’s hazardous. Like hog bristles! Now I know why she complains so much when I don’t shave!”

“You mean you didn’t learn that with the first three?”

“Hell, I forgot! Memory’s about as long as my dick, I guess!”

The first line is Joe joking with John about John's wife recently having a baby. That is John's fourth child, although his oldest child is a daughter who is in college - he mentioned how expensive his daughter's college is to Ellie at the end of Chapter 8, and how her execution is helping him pay for that. That last sentence is a common joke, as if scientists just discovered what causes children!
Wife’s pussy is ready for action again, thank God. Cunt hair is coming in just enough to give me beard burn, though and that’s hazardous. Like hog bristles! Now I know why she complains so much when I don’t shave!”
"Wife’s pussy is ready for action again" - It's generally six weeks after a woman has a baby before she's healed enough to have sex. This is what John is talking about.

"Cunt hair is coming in just enough to give me beard burn" - They shave a woman's pubic hair in the hospital before she gives birth. Or at least they did when our children were born. The last one was 52 years ago for me and women had pubic hair. I guess a lot of women don't have pubic hair now, so this wouldn't apply to them. When John says "cunt hair is coming in," he means it was shaved and it's growing back now. But when it's just coming back in, it's really stiff and stubbly, not soft at all. It's like being rubbed with a stiff brush. John is comparing the feeling with "beard burn," what women complain about when a man has bristly whiskers on his face and they rub their faces against us when we kiss them. John is joking about how his wife's pussy is giving him a beard burn.

“Hell, I forgot! Memory’s about as long as my dick, I guess!” - John is saying he forgot about how rough a woman's pussy feels when the hair is starting to grow back. "Memory's about as long as my dick" means "my memory is very short," comparing the length of his memory with the length of his penis.

Hope this explains it well enough to those who wondered.
 
:clapping:...It doesn't matter the nailing chapter has been that long. Every moment was magnificent!

“Not going to hurt you! Got to clean your feet up so you don’t get tetanus or something. Can’t have you dying too soon of an infection!”

She lifted her right foot and let him use the rag to scrub it. He squirted the disinfectant soap on it, scrubbed it some more, even in between her toes, dried it and took the other one.
Preparing her dainty feet for the brutal nailing!!
“She is further sentenced to endure a Class 3, Gender Specific sedile. She will remain nude for her entire punishment. After being pronounced dead, her body shall remain on the cross for twenty-four hours before removal, cremation and disposal of her ashes by flushing them into the city sewage system.”
So it will be twenty-four hours, thank you for changing that jedakk
The hammer came down, a half-stroke just to pierce her wrist and pin it to the wood. The dull clank of the hammer against the nail was amplified through the speakers, followed instantly by Ellie’s grunt of shock, then her strident scream of agony.
And so, it begins!
“It’s a commercial break. We have to wait till the TV comes back to us.” Bill pointed up at the video display above them where a countdown timer was showing time left for a commercial break. They had another thirty seconds.
Ellie will suffer every minute of this :devil2:
The QR code linked to a website that contained details of Ellie’s background
clever new idea (I didn't scan the QR code btw :pancarta:
“You son of a bitch! OWWOO! Oh God… W-What do you th-think? Y-you… OWWW! Shit! You can’t imagine h-how m-much - UNH! – this h-hurts… AAHHHHHHH!!” She stammered in agony.
Now Ellie is really suffering
She pushed down on her feet, screamed and froze at the bolt of pain it sent through her wrists when she lightened the pressure on her wounds there
John touched his hammer to the head of the nail, pulled back for his swing. He could feel her foot squirming under the point of the nail, toes curling and pushing against the wood
Amazing details

wedged bones apart
I'm a bit confused here. You use "wedged" two times (wrists and feet). Did you mean to pull apart the bones?
This is perhaps one of the best nailing sequences ever out to paper.
Agreed!
 
So it will be twenty-four hours, thank you for changing that jedakk

After looking at what was said in various places, it seemed like the easiest way.

I'm a bit confused here. You use "wedged" two times (wrists and feet). Did you mean to pull apart the bones?
I really shouldn't have re-used the same phrase, but yes, it's true. An 8mm square nail wouldn't fit through the available space without forcing its way between bones, pushing them - not pulling them - apart. I can't say with any certainty, but I think it's likely it would tear ligaments as well.

A long time ago I put the attached picture together, an X-ray of a foot with a square nail superimposed on it. It's proportionally about the right size for a Roman wrought-iron nail adequate to hold an average man's weight. It doesn't fit in the space very well and would definitely have to push those bones apart to get through.

Foot x-ray large w-nail.jpg
 
Chapter 17: The Nailing (Part 3 Continued)

While they were stowing it away, Jack went back up the ladder carrying the neat, white plastic sign for the top of Ellie’s cross. He peeled off the backing on the adhesive strip on the sign’s back and leaned against the top of the cross to steady himself. Using both hands to position the sign and make sure it was level, he pulled it back against the top of the tenon so it would stick tightly.

The sign said:

View attachment 930614
The QR code linked to a website that contained details of Ellie’s background, her crime, sentence, pictures, videos, and updates as Ellie’s crucifixion progressed. There were already short videos and pictures from prison, including the final fitting for her sedile, with the guards strapping her to a cross, and just-uploaded video teasers and pictures from her whipping. There would be high-resolution streaming videos available as pay-per-view and as full downloads for sale through the site.

People in the crowd were pointing their phones at the sign and scanning the QR code, looking to see what was on the site. The QR code was also up on the bottom right corner of the video screens for those not able to get close enough to scan it from Ellie’s sign, and was printed in the program.

Ellie began to stir, tossing her head, her long ponytail swinging side-to-side. She groaned as consciousness and agony began to return, and then panic. Her legs began to move and she realized there was nothing beneath her feet.

I’m hanging! They hoisted me up and now I’m hanging! She thought.

She felt the timber behind her pressing between her shoulders and the center of her buttocks. She turned her head and looked up at her left hand, saw the nail and the little seep of blood trailing down her arm. She threw her head back and screamed, writhing, struggling to try to push up with her feet against the face of the cross.

After a few minutes her struggles grew weaker as she exhausted herself. She hung there, defeated, groaning and sobbing, her naked body twitching as spasms of agony drove it, her head tossing, falling forward then arching back.

“And it looks like Ellie is back with us!” Ken McDonald exclaimed. “Ellie, how do you feel?” He held the mike up toward her face.

“Fuck. You!” Ellie hissed.

“Was being dragged up onto your cross by your nailed wrists as painful as you thought it would be?”

“You son of a bitch! OWWOO! Oh God… W-What do you th-think? Y-you… OWWW! Shit! You can’t imagine h-how m-much - UNH! – this h-hurts… AAHHHHHHH!!” She stammered in agony.

“There you have it folks! Ellie Ruck, halfway through being nailed to the cross, appears to be in quite a bit of pain with her crucifixion not yet officially started!”

“You, sir!” Ken McDonald said to Bill.

“Huh?”

“Could you tell us what it’s like, doing this job?”

“Well, only thing I’ve done I can compare it to is working calves.”

“Huh?” The reporter exclaimed, confused.

“Calves don’t cooperate. Whatever it is they think you want them to do, they ain’t gonna do that. They will kick you, and you’re lucky if you don’t catch one in the balls, they will piss and shit on you. You go to castrate them or brand them and they will struggle and fight back any way they can!”

“So a prisoner you’re executing is like a calf?”

“A whole lot worse. They’re smarter and more dangerous. They don’t appreciate us even though we’re trying to help them.”

“HELP them!”

“Yeah! They broke the law. They know damn well they did wrong, and it eats at ‘em. Probably did a lot more than whatever they got caught doing. And now they owe for that. The court says the price for what they did is to be whipped, crucified, humiliated, and deep down, as bad as it’s gonna be, they’d have to admit that’s only fair. And they couldn’t put themselves through all that, not on their own. So we’re like facilitators, we help them do what they really need to, and their souls are better for it!”

“Uh, ok, well hmm… So when they’re screaming in agony and you’re holding, say, a naked woman like Ellie down while her wrists are being nailed, how do you handle that?”

“Oh, I don’t pay it any mind at all! I do my job and just ignore all that. This is punishment! It’s hard and it’s supposed to hurt. And I know it’s good for their soul!”

“And ok, folks, that’s Bill from the punishment contractor Crucifixion Masters, Inc. who is handling Ellie Ruck’s crucifixion today!”

“Where do you come up with this stuff?” John laughed. “That was the best yet!”

“Hell, I don’t know! It’s a curse! I can’t help it!” Bill chuckled.

“Think she’s ready? John studied Ellie, hanging on her cross.

“Shit, let’s ask her! Ellie! You ready for us to nail your feet?”

Ellie looked down at him through pain-filled eyes. Oh no oh no they’re going to nail my feet to the cross I can’t bear it oh I don’t want them to nail me any more oh no… she thought.

“Please! P-please don’t hurt me any AHHHHHHH!! Ohhhh God, Ohhhh! Any more please p-please don’t...“ Ellie sobbed.

“I heard her say please!” John grinned.

“Strap her ankles, boys!” Bill said to the other wranglers. “Let’s get her feet nailed.”

Jack already had the webbing strap they used for this purpose in hand. He approached from behind, out of Ellie’s sight and stood to the side of the cross to work for safety’s sake, in case she tried to kick him. Her feet hung about four feet off the ground.

He trapped her ankles in the looped strap and quickly cinched it tight around them before she could react. She immediately panicked and began to struggle, terrified of what was coming.

“NO!! NO!! You can’t… NO!! Please, no more nails! No more nails!” Ellie pleaded, even though she knew it was pointless.

Jack passed the free end of the strap around the post, snapped it into its buckle and pulled it tight enough to draw her heels up against the cross.

Another wrangler wiped the tops and soles of Ellie’s feet with the antiseptic, poured a generous amount of the liquid on the cloth and wiped down the area on the wood where her feet would be nailed.

Jack slid the strap up the post until the soles of Ellies feet were flat against it and the tattooed “X” marks on her feet were in line with the measured and scribed mark on the post. He checked that the centerline scribed on the post was between her heels, so her feet would be centered beneath her body, and cinched the strap up tight enough that it would hold Ellie’s weight.

Bill was ready with the second strap, which he wrapped around the post and over the tops of her feet, making sure to leave space around the “X” marks, then cinched it down to pull the soles of her feet tightly against the timber so she couldn’t move them.

Ellie’s thighs were angled outward, fully exposing her to the onlookers. She pushed down on her feet, screamed and froze at the bolt of pain it sent through her wrists when she lightened the pressure on her wounds there. She groaned, afraid to move, trembling as her wrists continued to throb. She blinked back the tears, looked down on the crowd, all staring at her, naked, on display.

Oh God I can push up on my feet now, let my wrists rest for a few minutes… when I do they’ll drive those big nails through my feet! I can’t bear more pain, I can’t! Ellie thought, shaking her head.

“Come on, Ellie!” Bill said, “Up on your feet now, we haven’t got all day!”

“Oh please don’t!” She pleaded, eyes full of pain. “I’m afraid, I know you’ll nail my feet to the cross! Please please no!”

“Remember what I told you before, girl!” John the executioner said. “Don’t want to give me any trouble. I can make it worse for you. I am going to nail your feet, the easy way or the hard way, it’s going to happen. You’re just putting it off and making it worse for yourself. Let me see you move, NOW!”

Ellie sobbed, body trembling, she tried to push up with her legs and avoid pulling with her arms, but couldn’t do it that way. She eased herself back down, breathing hard.

John reached between her legs, found the little gold ring and her clit easily.

“Yeah, Ellie! That ring does make it easier to find your clit!” John said.

He pinched it, not hard, but enough for her to feel the threat. There was a commotion from the crowd, watching what he was doing on the big screens.

“OWW!” Ellie gasped, gritted her teeth, pushed down with her legs and pulled against the nails in her wrists, crying out in pain as she struggled her way upward.

“Strap her knees?” Bill asked. “She can’t take the pain, won’t stay up if we don’t.”

“Yeah,” John said, “probably better. She’ll drop as soon as the first nail goes in, otherwise.”

Jack heard them and already had the strap in hand. He whipped it around Ellie’s knees and cinched it tightly enough behind the post to hold until John finished his work.

John placed the point of one of the big iron spikes against the tattooed “X” on her left foot. He made sure the spike was level, square with the post, then leaned on it to compress the flesh so the point would tear through and not rebound. The point broke her skin; a little trickle of dark blood dribbled down the top of her foot.

Ellie moaned in fear and anticipation. “No no no please don’t please don’t hurt me oh God…”

John touched his hammer to the head of the nail, pulled back for his swing. He could feel her foot squirming under the point of the nail, toes curling and pushing against the wood. He swung the hammer and drove the nail most of the way through.

“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!” Ellie let out a piercing scream, shifted her weight onto her right foot and pulled up on the left one, trying to get it away from the executioner. John brought his hammer down on the nail again, driving it the rest of the way through her foot and into the post. Ellie continued to scream, her body writhing as he struck the long nail again and again. The amplified sounds of her screams and the deep blows of the hammer echoed across the park. The crowd cheered and applauded.

When he had driven the nail down until its head was near the top of her foot, he took out the last nail, placed its point against the tattooed “X” on her right foot. It was the last relatively painless support Ellie had, and that was being taken away. Ellie tried to shift her weight back onto her throbbing left foot. “AAHHHHHHH!!” She screamed as her weight bore down against the iron spike there, pulled against the nails in her wrists to try to take some of her weight.

In pain everywhere, she struggled desperately to pull her right foot away from the executioner, who was already drawing his hammer back for the first blow. She threw her head back and screamed, her naked body writhing as the executioner drove the nail through her right foot and into the timber. Her legs collapsed. She would have dropped to hang by her wrists, but the strap around her knees wouldn’t allow them to bend. She was forced to bear all of her weight on her feet while the executioner swung his hammer and delivered blow after blow to the nail in her right foot. She screamed with every stroke as the iron spike wedged bones apart.

“Ok,” John said as Ellie sobbed and groaned, “let’s get the strap off her knees and set that sedile in place.”

Bill and another wrangler had the sedile, bolt and wrench ready. The hole was already drilled at the proper location in the post based on the final fitting Wooster had done for the sedile, close to Ellie’s knee level.

Bill ran the big sixteen-inch timber bolt through the length of the sedile and waited. As soon as Jack got the strap around Ellie’s knees out of the way she started slipping down. He had to get a hand up under the front of her crotch, catch her and push her back up. He straightened his arm, bracing her up and pressing her ass against the cross while the sedile was being set in place. The crowd loved it.

Bill quickly lined the bolt up with the hole in the post and pushed it through as he positioned the sedile between Ellie’s trembling knees.

“Hang on, this won’t take long,” he said to Jack.

“Take your time,” Jack laughed, “I’ve had worse jobs than holding a hundred-pound girl up by her pussy!”

The other wrangler behind the cross put the washer and nut on the bolt which he spun down finger tight, then finished tightening it with the wrench.

“Ok, you can let her go, that is, if you want to!” He said to Jack.

“Yeah, ok, I suppose all good things must come to an end, huh?” He eased his hand down and saw Ellie’s eyes go wide as she took all of her weight on the nails and began to slip lower.

As a finishing touch Bill squirted a big tube of KY Jelly over the sedile’s horns and smeared the coating over them. “She’ll appreciate us every time she sits on this!” Bill joked.

Ellie was already sinking lower, screaming as every trembling move sent bolts of agony from her wounds, her legs exhausted. She felt the horn press against her ass cheek and pushed her hips forward to lower herself down in front of it. She dropped the last few inches, screaming when the wounds in her wrists impacted against the nails.

She hung suspended by her wrists, her naked body twitching and trembling, groaning and sobbing in agony, eyes wide in panic. Even though the day was already promising to be a hot one, her body felt cold.

“Well,” John observed, hands on his hips looking up at her critically, “I believe she’s crucified boys!”


(End Chapter 17)
Thank you jedak for this description, I felt like I was watching live. I even managed to make myself cum while masturbating
 
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