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The Throwaway Girl - a new story by Jedakk

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Chapter 12: Final Fitting (Continued)

“Now,” Wooster continued, “quit fucking around and get your ass up high on that cross! I need to get between your legs and hook up this sedile.”

“I – I’m going to fall!” She panicked as she started to rise, found her body arching outward into space as she pushed.

“No, you’re not! Just not used to it. Do what I fucking tell you!”

Ellie struggled to rise up, pulling with her arms and pushing with her feet. She was still afraid she was going to fall on her face. Her shoulders felt better, but she couldn’t straighten her legs, even if she leaned forward, which was even more frightening. Her legs were tiring quickly like this.

A guard who was watching said, “Man! Look at that! I love watching a pretty girl stretched out on a cross!”

One of the guards had slid another steel bracket up the post behind her legs, this one about the height of her knees. She looked down, trying to see what he was doing. Wooster picked up an oddly shaped object she had seen but had been too occupied to pay attention to before. When he turned it over, she realized what she was looking at.

My sedile. Or maybe a mock-up. So that’s what they’re going to use on me. Two horns, more like dildos, not too long. Are those supposed to go inside me? Shit shit shit! At least they’re not too big. If I have to, maybe they won’t hurt going in.

She felt her asshole and vagina tense up thinking about that. Ellie shifted her weight onto her left leg, tried to rest her right one.

Shit! This is gonna be painful! The peg that’s going up my pee-hole, hope that doesn’t give me a UTI! What about those tiny spikes for my clit? Nothing there, thank God!

Ellie shifted her weight back onto her right leg and gingerly leaned forward to see what Wooster was doing between her legs, but her breasts hid most of her view.

When he was done connecting the sedile to the bracket between her legs, Wooster stepped back and said, “I’m going to need to see you lower yourself onto that sedile. This thing’s just a toy, designed for me to check dimensions, it’s not the real thing.”

“Oh! You mean… I have to, uh, lower myself down so you can see if it, uh, touches the right places?”

“Touching would be a start, yes. Then I want to see them go inside you, see if the spacing is right.”

Ellie gulped in fear. “In-inside of me? How-how far inside… me?”

“How far inside you? Seriously?” Wooster said. “Well, let me put it this way: All the fucking way inside you! I want you to sit your ass down on that sedile! All the way down! Got it?”

“Y-yes, sir…” Ellie moaned. Oh no oh no I can’t oh no. I have to… She thought. They’ll keep me up here until I do whatever fucking thing they say.

Wooster bent and used a tube of KY Jelly to lubricate the horns of the sedile as he talked. “The rear one is taller. You’ll take that one up your asshole a little before you feel the front one touch your vagina. Let’s see you do it.”

Ellie blinked back tears, tried to regain control. These men want me to fuck myself on these dildos right here in front of them, she thought. And I have to do it or they’ll keep me hanging on this cross for hours.

Now would be a good time!” Wooster urged, impatiently.

“Does… does everybody have to be in here? To see me do this?” She asked. There was laughter from the grinning guards.

“That’s not your problem! Now get your ass back against the post and slide down! Come on!” Wooster ordered her. He snapped a picture underneath her crotch, got up and took another from the side, came back and knelt in front of her again. Even though there were cameras automatically videoing all the way around her and from above and below, Wooster liked to take some of his own.

“I think I feel it,” Ellie said, her face turning red. “That must be it, uh, on the bottom of my butt cheek, the-the left one.”

“That’s right. You’ll have to adjust, then, slide over.”

“I… poking me in my crack, it’s too far back, I can’t… reach!” Ellie said. Her legs were tiring quickly, bent this much. One of the guards snickered.

“Squeeze your ass against the post! Harder!”

“I… I can’t! Nothing to push against! I, my legs, giving out, I don’t think…” Ellie said desperately.

“Rotate your hips back, for God’s sake!” Wooster said

“I – I feel it! Right in the center of my uh, asshole, now!” She smiled in relief at her success, like a toddler who had done something to please mommy.

Why the hell am I smiling?

Wooster took another picture, quickly got a picture from the side, noticed Ellie was shaking with fatigue. Her legs were going quickly.

“Now, slide down onto it!” Wooster said. Ellie’s smile faded.

“Oh please, my legs, burning! Let me rest and try again!”

“No, this is the way it will be when you’re crucified! You’ll be exhausted when you’re desperate enough to do this!” Wooster said. “Slide down onto it now! You need a couple of men to help you, push you down onto it? We can do it that way if we have to!”

“No! Oh no, please! Please just let me try!” Ellie cried out in panic, “I-I’ll do it! Let me-let me just-just-get myself together- I’ll do it!”

Ellie sobbed, took a deep breath, and let her trembling legs relax a little. “Unh! Mmmmph!” she said, straining to control her panic as she felt more of her weight bear down on her anus, tense and tight with fear, that resisted this thing forcing its way into her. She gave a ragged sigh, gritted her teeth as she felt the cool greased dildo push through her anus and slide up into her rectum. She spread her legs as far as she could to ease its entry, closing her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see the grinning faces of the men watching her humiliate herself.

She felt the other one pressing against the entrance to her vagina, shrank from it, gasped as her legs failed and she felt it enter her. She sucked in a breath and slowly released it in a moan of fear as she sank down on both dildos, felt their coolness filling her. She felt the tickle of the ridge of the sedile’s edge wedging her inner lips apart, sending a tingle up into her as the wood slipped between their delicate pink inner sides.

“Ohhh! Oh my God oh my God…” Ellie said, feeling a shudder pass through her.

Then she grimaced as she felt the wooden peg enter her urethra.

And then the sedile was taking her weight, and she surrendered to it with a groan. She let her body go limp, bending forward at the waist, arms outstretched above her.

“Hmm…” Wooster said, eyeing the way her pelvis rested on the sedile.

“Now that’s somethin’ you don’t see every day!” One of the spellbound guards said. The others laughed, still watching Ellie fixedly.

“No, you sure don’t!” Wooster said, “Those Class 3 sediles for females are rare! Don’t have to test a Class 1, those are easy and work for men or women, one size fits all. Class 2, just one horn so fitting goes pretty quickly. On those, the horn needs to be farther forward for a woman than a man, so she can get her pussy on it, not so far that she can cheat and sit between the horn and the cross. This one, well, it’s designed just to fit this one girl’s anatomy and hurt a whole lot worse.”

“Is there a male version?” A guard asked.

“Yep!” Haven’t made one of those in a while. Just one horn on that, but it has some moving parts. They call that one a ‘nutcracker’ and you can imagine why. Never heard a man on a cross beg the executioner to just castrate him before the first time I saw one of those used.”

Ellie felt the bruising pressure of the sedile’s edge against the moist pink flesh in her cleft. She squirmed, moving her legs, trying to ease the pain, but that made it even worse. She was locked in place, unable to move. She strained to push her thighs farther apart, open herself more to relieve the pressure, but the edge only sank in deeper.

“Unh!” She moaned. “Oh God this.. this really hurts!”

“I hate to keep saying this, but it’s supposed to hurt!” Wooster said distractedly, studying his phone.

“No! I mean… it’s horrible! I-I can’t stand it! I have to…”

Ellie struggled to try to pull herself up with her arms, felt the dildos move inside her. The strain was too much, her legs simply exhausted.

“Please help me!” Ellie pleaded, eyes wide in panic. “I-I can’t get off it! Legs are too tired to move! OWWW! NNNNGGG! Please, you’ve got to help me get off this thing!” Ellie sobbed.

No one got up to help her. Wooster sat on the table, chin in his hand, watching her like the test subject she was for him. The guards stood or sat, laughing and joking about her. They had nothing to do but watch the spectacle of the pretty naked redhead suffering on the cross.

How can they sit there and watch me suffer like this? This is really torture! Ellie thought.

“AAHHHHHH!!” Ellie screamed in pain. “Please-please let me down off this cross, oh God this hurts so much! OWWWWWW!! I-I can’t stand it! You have to get me down, get me down from here, please! Oh God!” Ellie sobbed.

“No one’s going to help you,” Wooster told Ellie. “No one’s going to help you ever again. You’re going to hang there and suffer for a while, then you’ll find your legs will be strong enough to get you up and off the sedile. You’ll probably have to hang for a few minutes and let them rest some more before you’ll be able to lift yourself up again. But don’t take too long with that.”

Ellie’s pleas for help trailed off. She continued to squirm and moan in pain.

“All right, that worked but it’s too tight in the back. I’ll give you another quarter inch of space,” she heard Wooster say. “Get off it as soon as you can, let me adjust it and you’ll do it again!”

“Oh no, please no!” Ellie sobbed helplessly.
 
she heard a wooden clack and felt the impact of the crosspiece against the upright behind her head
I can just guess how the actual crucifixion is going to 'feel' for poor Ellie
and they slid the beam back over the tenon
tenon? is there really a word for that part?
Ellie was hanging by her wrists
Nice to clarify that, it's just hanging for now, not the actual crucifixion
Ellie felt the bruising pressure of the sedile’s edge against the moist pink flesh in her cleft. She squirmed, moving her legs, trying to ease the pain, but that made it even worse. She was locked in place, unable to move. She strained to push her thighs farther apart, open herself more to relieve the pressure, but the edge only sank in deeper.
This the full squat, amazing!
“AAHHHHHH!!” Ellie screamed in pain. “Please-please let me down off this cross, oh God this hurts so much! OWWWWWW!! I-I can’t stand it! You have to get me down, get me down from here, please! Oh God!” Ellie sobbed.
This is just a test Ellie, be prepare for what's coming :devil2:
 
tenon? is there really a word for that part?
Yes, it's used in joinery, which is the practice of joining timbers, boards etc. together by cutting matching parts of a joint. One of many joint types is a mortise and tenon joint, and there are several kinds of those. The cross I used for "The Serpent's Eye" had a simple mortise and tenon joint on top. The mortise is the hole, and the tenon is the part that inserts into it. Here's a picture where you can see the two parts:
Sabina Nailing Scene 11x0x5-21_0001.jpg
In this picture, Sabina's patibulum has a hole through it just above her head. That is the mortise, and the top of the stipes is cut down to fit into the mortise. That cut-down part is the tenon. And in the picture below, they have lifted her patibulum into place and lowered the mortise onto the tenon, which is tapered, smaller at the top so it's easier to get it into the mortise and larger at the bottom so they have to pull it down to get a snug solid fit.
Sabina Nailing Scene 12x1c-54_0001.jpg

Almost all woodwork was done using joinery methods before the twentieth century. I have a whole book on ancient Roman joinery, tools and woodworking methods.

Nice to clarify that, it's just hanging for now, not the actual crucifixion
Her feet are not fixed to the cross yet, although her ankles are fastened together. There's some kind of fixation between the shackles on her ankles but I never got into details about how that worked.


This the full squat, amazing!
Not as much of one as when she was hanging by her wrists, but yes, that's the position.

This is just a test Ellie, be prepare for what's coming :devil2:
Now she knows how bad it is without any nails. Can she even imagine the pain of hanging by those nails?
 
Chapter 11, continued from previous post:


“Are you done yet?” She asked, fuming, her face livid with rage.

“Yeah, I think so…” He said blissfully.

“You son of a bitch, you must have been saving that up since you got here!”

At least this time it’s on the outside of me, she thought.

“I’m about tired of this shit!” Ellie said, her rage building. “I’ve had a really bad day! I’ve been sentenced to death, by crucifixion, no less. I’ve been stripped and cavity searched in front of a crowd. I’ve been strapped down naked and had men poking and measuring my pussy, had all the hair between my legs ripped out, and got tattooed. Here, I’ll show you…

“Uhh… You! You sorry fuck!” She turned to the man behind her, “you fucking hold this stuff!” She thrust her soap and shampoo into his hands. Surprised, he took it.

“These are not gang tattoos!” Ellie shouted, holding up her hands and showing them the blue “X” tattoos.

“These are where they are gonna drive big iron spikes through my wrists in two more days, when they CRUCIFY ME!” Ellie yelled, her voice breaking. “I have them on the tops of my feet, too!”

There were exclamations all over the shower room at that.

“Then while I was strapped down naked, I got raped! And… and…” Ellie’s voice broke and she started to tear up. “All… all I want to do is wash the filthy sons of bitches off me!” She sobbed, shook herself – which made all her curvy parts jiggle, dazzling all the men, even though that was not what she intended.

“Now I’m just trying to take a shower! And you sorry fucks harass me and, you, what’s your name?” She asked, reaching up and putting her hands on the shoulders of the man who had just coated her tummy with semen. He gasped at her touch.

Oh shit! She thought, is he going to cum on me AGAIN? How is that even possible?

“M-my name?” He replied, his eyelids fluttering again.

I never knew I had such power in my touch! Ellie stared at him in wonder.

“Yeah, your name! Do you know your fucking name?”

“Uh, Bob?”

“Bob here just unloaded about a gallon of cum on me! Thanks a lot, Bob!”

“Sorry, couldn’t help it,” Bob said, indicating his penis. “It was just Little Bob here showin’ his appreciation!”

The other men around who heard him laughed.

“Oh! Ok, Bob. I get it!” Ellie leaned forward and shouted up in his face, ”FUCK YOU VERY MUCH!!” Then she sprang straight up, using his shoulders for leverage, and drove her right knee into his dangling balls as hard as she could.

Bob dropped to his knees, groaning, hands on his balls, then collapsed and rolled over on his side in a fetal position.

“Now,” Ellie continued angrily, “You bastards give me some room and let me get to my fucking shower head!”

She turned back to the man behind her who turned his hips to the side protectively, thinking she was going to try to knee him in the balls, too. “Give me my fucking soap and shampoo!” She said, contemptuously.

He quickly handed her stuff to her, then said, “Uh, you should be careful, that stuff is really slick!” Pointing to the white gelatinous puddle of semen on the tile floor between her feet.

“Thank you!” She said, and carefully stepped over it as she moved down toward her shower head.

The last two men, only a step away, who stood between her and her shower head, moved apart a little to let her get by, but not enough. Instead of turning sideways and squeezing between them, she strode face-on. She hit the one’s cock on her right side with the shampoo bottle before he realized what was coming.

“OW! SHIT!” He said, turning away protectively.

The one on her left anticipated and managed to dodge and catch her hard left-handed punch on his hip.

She heard Shelley shout, “That’s the way y’do it, honey!” Then, “What y’all sorry pieces of shit lookin’ at? Get y’all’s showers done an’ get the hell outta here!”

Ellie got to her shower head and did indeed have a little space around her. She turned the shower on, adjusted the temperature, found that lukewarm was all she could bear on the raw skin between her legs. She rinsed Bob’s semen off her abdomen, scrubbed it with the soap, rinsed, scrubbed it again. She scrubbed her hands that had touched it until she washed the memory of it away.

Then she washed her crotch, lifting one leg to get into her vulva and scrub the filth out, regardless of how it delighted the men watching. All she wanted to do was get Larry and Marvin off her and out of her as much as she possibly could.

When she’d done all she could do and felt a little better, she turned up the temperature and soaped up the rest of her body, letting the water run over her.

Ellie had tried to block out the comments of the men all around her watching her bathe. Now what they were saying began to filter through.

“Oh God, look at her, you ever see anything so beautiful?”

“…like a little goddess!”

“Damn! I could stand here and just watch her bathe for a week!”

Oh! She thought, nobody ever said anything like that about me! It sounds almost like… worship! Oh my God!

“Fucking slut!” Ok, scratch that one, She thought.

“I’m gonna memorize every bit of her so I don’t ever forget!”

“Oh God, I ain’t seen a naked woman for more’n twenty years, might not ever see one again.”

“Oh my God, the curve of her ass, those tits, amazing!”

These guys have definitely been in here for a long time! She thought.

Ellie gradually stopped making any effort to hide anything. Fuck it, let them see, she thought. Brightens their lives and doesn’t cost me anything. Three days and the whole damn world will see it all anyway.

Many of these men hadn’t seen a real live naked woman in years, some in decades.

She knew the foam and water running over her breasts and ass were driving the prisoners crazy, but she was beginning to get used to that. She couldn’t help but see some of the prisoners masturbating openly. One of the older men, probably a lifer, looked like he might have a heart attack and die.

She shampooed her hair and rinsed it twice, slowly turning around with her arms raised, massaging the shampoo luxuriously through her hair, letting the foam run down her back.

Let them get a good look, see me from all angles. This means a lot to them. Ellie thought.

After she had dried and wrapped up her hair with the worn towels Shelley gave her, Larry and Marvin returned her blanket and marched her to her cell.

It was a typical six-by-ten-foot cell. There was a narrow plastic bed with a thin mattress on her right as she walked in, a steel toilet and lavatory on the side wall. There was a basic toiletry kit on the bed, consisting of a comb, toothbrush, soap, small tube of toothpaste, a small towel.

Larry knelt down and shackled her left ankle to a chain fastened to the wall under the bed. She could reach the bed, toilet, and lavatory but nothing else. Two cameras monitored her every move. Ellie sat on the bed Indian-style and wrapped her blanket around her.

She was still sitting there when a medic and two guards, different ones, came to her cell about an hour later. She eyed them suspiciously and pulled her blanket more securely around her.

“Going to have to stick you now and put in a canula for IVs in the inside of your elbow,” the medic said. “You can keep your blanket! We’ll use this for IVs during the next couple of days while you’re here. It really won’t hurt much.”

“Ok,” she sighed. “Which arm do you want?”

“Right one. Let me make sure we have a good vein.” She held out her arm, uncovering her right breast as she did so, confirming she was indeed naked underneath the blanket.

“Sorry you’re not allowed any clothing,” the medic said. “Part of the ‘close confinement’ protocol to guarantee you can’t hide anything you might use to end your life.”

“Yeah, only got one place to hide something, and Larry and Marvin already checked that thoroughly.” Ellie grumbled.

“Heard about that,” the medic said.

“Oh well, might as well get used to everybody seeing me naked anyway, huh?”

“That’s one way to look at it!” The medic chuckled. “Ok, little pinch…”

It was more like a stab when he stuck the needle in her vein, but otherwise not much pain. He checked with normal saline to see it was clear, taped it all down and she was left with a piece of plastic tubing coming out of the inside of her elbow.

“Now I need to start some IV drugs. We’ll connect these to your IV, won’t hurt a bit,” the medic said as he hung three IV bags on a hook mounted on the wall above the bed.

“What… what kind of drugs, sir?” Ellie asked. She was careful now to be respectful to all of these men just to be safe.

“Antibiotics, prophylactic to stave off infection after your execution. Some fluids, something to help you relax. You’ll feel sleepy and a lot of people doze off for a while.”

“I’m afraid,” Ellie said. What if… I mean, what if I sleep straight through, wake up and it’s time for my execution, right then. I won’t sleep the whole time until then, will I?”

“No, that’s not gonna happen. Just a couple of hours maybe, just a nap. If you promise not to pull the IV out, I won’t have you put in restraints. If you pull it out, we’ll see and you’ll have to be strapped down again. You don’t want that, do you?”

“No, sir, please, I’ll be good, I will! You don’t have to strap me down, sir!” Ellie said, with an edge of pleading. She knew what being strapped down meant, being helpless and vulnerable.

“You need to use the toilet? Once I connect the IV, you’ll have to sit or lie on the bed until it runs out. Better go now. I’ll wait.”

Ellie got up, dragging her chain across the floor as she moved to the toilet. The men didn’t offer to leave. She had trouble arranging the blanket, pulled it off and threw it on the bed. She sat naked on the steel toilet.

“I can’t! Not in front of you! It won’t start!” Ellie complained after a moment.

One of the guards chuckled. “Might as well get used to that now,” he grinned.

“Here, try this,” the medic said as he turned on the water in the lavatory and let it splash in the steel basin. She closed her eyes. In a moment the sounds of urination began.

“Ow! That really burns!” Ellie said.

“What, you have a UTI?” The medic said, concerned. They did not want her sick when she was crucified.

“No, sir. Fresh wax job. Feels like sunburn!”

“I’ll get you some lotion for that,” he said, “Think I can swing a brush for that hair, too.”

“Oh! That would be so awesome! Thank you so much!” Ellie said gratefully.

She finished and used the paper carefully, patting, not rubbing, flushed and washed her hands before turning off the water.

“Ok, I’m ready, sir,” Ellie said.

The medic connected the IV, checked to be sure it was dripping, then stepped out, saying “Be right back.”

He returned in minutes with a small bottle of lotion for her crotch and a hairbrush. “Not sure where this came from,” he said about the brush. “The only women prisoners we ever have here are death row, and, uh… they’re not here long, so that’s most likely who left it behind.”

“Guess they wouldn’t need it anymore when they left.”

“Nope.”

Ellie took them thankfully. She looked at the plastic bottle of lotion hesitantly, started to set it on the bed.

“Sorry, I can’t leave that,” the medic said. “Prison policy. You can use what you need, then I have to take it.”

“I could commit suicide with lotion?” Ellie asked, incredulous.

“Don’t think so, but you could make yourself sick, maybe, and delay your execution.”

“Oh!” Ellie looked at the bottle with interest. “Hmm… well, that’s a thought.”

She poured a dollop of lotion in her hand, spread her legs, squatted a little and rubbed the lotion on her crotch in front of the medic and the two guards, who watched with interest. She returned the bottle to the medic, unwound the towel from her head and began brushing out her long coppery hair as they all left.

When she was done, Ellie draped her blanket over her shoulders and sat on the side of the bed for a while, head down, doing her best to think of something besides her execution. Her hair fell on either side of her face, blocking out her stark surroundings, giving her a place to hide for a time.

If they won’t allow any pubic hair to obscure my pussy, are they going to allow the hair on my head that would hide my face? Ellie thought. And, of course, she knew the answer. They’d chop it off short or put it in a ponytail or braid.

If I ask, would they allow me to have it in a ponytail? She wondered. I don’t want to lose my long hair! She raised a hand reflexively to drag her fingers through it. They could put it up on my head until… until they’re done with everything…

She looked down at her feet, stared again at the blue tattooed “X” marks there, imagined the heads of big iron nails, dark blood trailing down the tops of her feet, between her toes. Tears ran down her face, dripped on the floor, on her feet. She cried racking sobs that went on until she was cried out.

Not long after that she began to feel relaxed and found she didn’t care about her crucifixion. It was like it would happen to someone else, as if she were an observer, not the victim. She knew it was the drugs taking effect and didn’t care about that, either. She swung her feet around and lay back on the narrow bed, pulled the blanket over her. In a few more minutes she was asleep.
You really do a great job getting out Ellie's emotional content in this story. I look to more of it.
 
Chapter 13 is titled "The Last Day." The chapter actually begins on the day before, after they finally took Ellie down from the cross where they did her final fitting for her sedile. She was traumatized emotionally and physically from that experience and wanted nothing more than to withdraw into the tranquilizers that would calm and relax her.

On her last day, there's a tetanus shot, another IV, and later in the day, the laxatives that will clean her out inside to prepare her for her execution. Health Department says no human feces are allowed in the park. While she's sitting on the toilet, Ellie reads the announcement of her crucifixion in the newspaper and gets a copy of the program for all the events tomorrow; whipping, carrying and crucifixion. Plenty of event parking!

Meanwhile, an ex-army sniper in Montana who lives alone gets his mail, and Alice, Ellie's lawyer, files a last-minute appeal.

Note: SCOTUS is an acronym for Supreme Court Of The Unites States.

Chapter 13: The Last Day​

Ellie kept crying.

She was back in her cell, lying on the plastic bed in a fetal position with her blanket over her head. Her hands were between her legs, clutching herself protectively, rubbing, trying to sooth the ache down there.

The hour they forced her to hang on that cross was traumatic, horrible. She could still feel the tingling of the repeated violations by those dildos. There was a throbbing in her girl parts where she had only felt the thrill of sexual excitement before. She had been sore after some of the intense lovemaking with Jeremy, but not like this. No, never like this!

And it was so humiliating! To be naked and helpless, struggling in front of those men! Taking those… things inside of her like some hard-core porn star. Over and over while the man made his adjustments and told her to do it again! They wouldn’t take her down until he was satisfied, no matter how many times she did it and no matter how much she hurt.

She would cry herself out, sobbing hysterically until she had nothing left, try to compose herself, then break down again.

What was she going to do? What could she possibly do? Drown herself in the toilet? Stupid! Strangle herself with her ankle chain? There was nothing sharp or breakable in this room. They were watching her twenty-four hours a day. Anything that didn’t kill her instantly would be stopped within seconds.

She was glad when the medic came to set up her IV. She wanted the drugs that would relax her, let her escape for a little while, anyway.

************************​

Ellie was awake, sitting naked and cross-legged on her bed, muscles sore from her brief time on a cross. She no longer had any idea what day or time it was, so when the medic came with her Jell-o she had to ask him. It didn’t occur to her to cover herself in his presence anymore. Some things just didn’t seem to matter.

“It’s a little after five a.m.,” the medic said.

“What – what day?” She asked, anxiously, afraid this might be THE day.

“Last day. Tomorrow at eight a.m. it’ll be time for you to go,” he replied.

“Oh! Uh…”

“Yeah, I know. Best you can say is that in a few days it’ll all be over,” he said.

“Maybe…” Well, maybe in a week. She looked down and saw the blue tattooed “X” on her left wrist.

“Got to give you a tetanus booster,” the medic said. “Can’t put it into your IV, has to be intramuscular, so another stick. Sorry!”

“Ok.” She replied. “Which arm do you want?”

“Actually, I need you to stand up and bend over the bed. This one goes in your butt.”

“Oh well, why not?” Ellie sighed, unfolded her legs and slipped off the edge of the bed, careful not to tangle her feet in her chain. She bent over and put her hands on the bed, felt the stick of the needle but managed not to flinch.

“I’m, uh, really going to need that next IV soon,” Ellie said, an edge in her voice.

“No problem, I’ll get it and start you now. I can give you a full dose of the anxiety medication this morning, but this afternoon I’ll need to hold off maybe three hours. At noon, you have to drink Golytely, it’s a laxative that will flush your bowels,” the medic said. I’ll give you something before that will make you pretty flakey but not sleepy.

Ellie looked blank.

“You’re going to have diarrhea for about three hours, need to be awake for that. The last of it’s going to be almost clear. Then it’ll stop.”

“Oh,” Ellie said, thinking about that.

“Health Department says human feces are an environmental hazard. Can’t have that in the park, where you’re going to be,” the medic said.

“On my cross,” Ellie said.

“Yeah, on your cross. I’ll get your IV bags and be right back.”

************************​

The sniper made the hike up to the mailbox every day, rain or shine, with his German shepherd, Clyde. Both man and dog were ex-military; both had been to war and come back.

The man thought he might be happy here in the Montana mountains, away from people. He wasn’t sure he was really happy, but at least he was less sad. Clyde was another story, always on the alert, twenty-four hours a day, not used to this quiet. But he was getting better.

There was usually nothing in the mailbox that needed his attention, mostly just stuff good for starting a fire. And not that he needed that, either; he could start a fire with no more than two matches anytime, any weather. Or no matches at all if need be.

He’d learned such things in the Army, doing what he did best. But he’d had his fill of pulling a trigger, waiting, and a few seconds later seeing someone in the distance die. He was confident everyone he’d killed was bad and needed to die, but he wanted someone else to do that work now.

There was mail today, and a newspaper. Nothing important. He scanned over the newspaper while he walked, seeing mostly crap. Stupid politicians finding ways to waste tax money, global warming bullshit. On page three there was something about some woman down in Texas convicted of treason who was due to be crucified on the third, which was the next day.

He was about to read more, but Clyde began barking with an urgency that said he needed to come see about it. It turned out to be a good-sized rattlesnake, maybe five feet long. Nothing new about that; they were moving this time of day.

He placed a single shot through its head with his 9mm Beretta pistol, sliced what was left of the head off with his lock blade. He cautioned Clyde not to smell of it. A decapitated rattlesnake head could still bite and inject venom for a long time. Although it didn’t look like this one was capable.

He picked up the body, which continued to writhe slowly on its own, even without the head, and carried it with him back to the cabin. He’d dress it out, cut it up and throw it on the barbecue grill for supper. It would taste just like barbecued chicken, just had to eat around all those damned rib bones.

At the cabin, he threw the newspaper on the table to read later.

************************​

“Hi Jenny, this is Alice Goodman. You doing ok? Yeah, same shit, different day, huh?

Jenny was the secretary for the Clerk of the US Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit in New Orleans.

“Listen, I’m the lawyer for Ellie Ruck. Yeah, the one who was convicted of treason Wednesday afternoon. I need to file an appeal. Yeah, should have filed it Wednesday right after the sentence and now here it is Friday. Didn’t think it was worth it, still don’t, but I had a change of heart. I’d be remiss if I didn’t at least try.

“Listen, Jenny, this is just a dumb girl who got herself in trouble. She can’t even spell “treason.” I know, crucified tomorrow. I know, only SCOTUS can stay it, but has to go through Appeals first. Not gonna be able to stop it in time, but maybe we can get it halted and take her down.

No, I don’t know either if the doctors can save her once she’s been nailed to the cross. Can’t we try? OK, sending it to you for review right now.”

Alice clicked “Send”.

“Got it? Ok, let me know ASAP. Thanks a bunch, Jenny, I owe you!”

************************​



When the medic brought her Golytely to drink later, he brought Ellie a newspaper with her crucifixion announcement and one of the programs that had been printed up with the schedules for her whipping and crucifixion. She was indeed flakey from the stuff he’d injected into her IV.

Damn! This picture is a mug shot! She thought, looking at the program. I look surprised by the flash, and it makes my face look fat, too. Wish they’d used a better one. Probably should have used nude photos of me so people would recognize me! That made her laugh.

She read the newspaper while she sat on the toilet. She wished she could see what they would write about her for her obituary sometime next week, if they bothered to print one. “Ellie Ruck, nineteen years old, died by slow asphyxiation after five days of suffering from an excess of iron in her body, accomplished nothing at all in her life although she died spectacularly.” She broke out laughing again. I’d love to read that, but I expect to be gone then! And fuck them, that’s what they think! They don’t know the revolution’s coming. Hell, I’ll be a hero!

The program gave the details of her conviction: “Found guilty of treason, condemned to death by crucifixion,” yada yada and fuck all that.

“Note that Ms. Ruck will be stripped naked for whipping and will remain naked throughout her sentence. Parents are admonished this event may not be appropriate for children under seventeen.” Hmph! Well fuck me! If only I were, let’s see… she counted on her fingers, three years younger, I wouldn’t be able to attend that event! And hell, that would be fine with me.

The whipping is to begin at ten a.m., Saturday, May 3. And the public whipping post, which, as Alice said, is really a platform, is the one in the amphitheater at the south entrance to Jones Park.

Oh! Ellie thought, that’s a nice spot. Good place for horny teenagers to spread a blanket on Saturday nights and fuck their brains out, as I recall! Let’s see, easy to get to and plenty of event parking, says so right here! Rain delays? Hmm… “In case of rain, this event may be rescheduled.”

Her hands were shaking as she picked up the newspaper and leafed through, looking for the weather forecast. She sighed as she read it: “Saturday May 3, clear and hot. High 92 degrees, low 75. Chance of rain, zero.” Oh well, might have given me another day or two to enjoy here in my own little world. They’d probably make me go through this diarrhea drill all over again anyway.

She picked up the program again and studied it. “Ms. Ruck will receive fifty lashes… single-tail whip… procession to place of execution to leave at eleven a.m… Ms. Ruck to carry her crossbeam if physically able after her whipping. Hmm… Attendees invited to participate in the procession.”

So where the hell is the place of execution? She wondered.

She flipped the page and found out. The procession route followed a scenic hiking path that looped around alongside the river for about three-quarters of a mile, then across an open field to the top of a small, grassy hill. My Calvary! Well, a nice view for me while I die, at least, Ellie thought. And I’ll finally be able to see over the crowd! I’ve always been too short to do that.

For those who didn’t want to hike, it was only about a quarter mile by road from the whipping platform, and again, plenty of event parking, folks!

“This is a five-day event but may be extended if necessary.” Right, if the star of the show doesn’t expire on schedule… “Special performances at 8 p.m. – get there early for a good spot to spread your blanket on the grass!” Uh-oh! That can’t be good! “Watch for events coming soon!” Some other poor sons of bitches? Maybe I’ll live long enough to see some of them. We can- Ellie giggled, we can hang out together! She laughed at the joke she’d made.

At least I’ll die with purpose. They’ll remember me when the revolution happens. Maybe name a school or park after me!

She began to laugh hysterically and then started crying.

************************​

“Hello - Oh, hi Jenny!” Alice said hopefully. It was already after five pm.

“You’re kidding! So they said my client shouldn’t have been tried on that charge? Huh! Based on what, we didn’t have any exculpatory evidence to say she didn’t create those leaflets, other than, well, she’s too damned dumb to have written them, but, you know, that dog wouldn’t hunt.”

“What?! Police rounded up the rest of the group! Based on that info I got out of her? Right, yeah, I didn’t say it, that was an anonymous source that told them. And they found stacks of those leaflets there… ”

“Jeremy, yeah, so Jeremy Garrison is his name… You mean he really did send her out there to get rid of her, just tired of her shit? Hell, I just made that up talking to her! So the sorry fuck really was trying to get rid of her, really did tip off the police to her! I can’t believe this!”

“And based on the new evidence, she should get a new trial as an accessory? But SCOTUS has to rule to stay her execution first? There’s not anything the Appeals court can do?”

“Ok, well… So you sent it on to SCOTUS, and the clerk said Monday? Shit! She gets nailed to a cross tomorrow! Under the circumstances, can’t one of the justices look at it and rule on a stay?”

“He said WHAT?!”
 
Chapter 14 is titled "Ellie's Execution Day." It probably seems like I've gone through an awful lot of buildup to get to this point, but here we are. Ellie is awake at 5:00 a.m. eating her last meal, a bowl of raspberry Jell-o while the medic tells her the morning schedule and they discuss some things. Doris, the lady who does hair for executions, comes shortly thereafter, then Glenda, the lady who did Ellie's Brazilian wax job, comes back for a touch-up, shaving any stubble between her legs.

The doctor is scheduled to install a PICC line at 6:00 a.m. PICC stands for Peripherally Inserted Central Catheter. It is a thin tube that is inserted into one of the smaller veins, usually in the arm, but in Ellie's case, it will go in her right calf, near the ankle. The tube is pushed through the small peripheral vein into a larger vein and finally ends in the Superior Vena Cava, the big vein that connects directly to the heart. When Ellie is crucified, they will connect an IV to her PICC line to deliver a constant flow of hydration, nutrients and drugs as needed. Instead of dripping from an IV bag hanging above her, it will be pumped up from below using a positive-displacement pump that delivers a constant dose regardless of changing pressure due to Ellie's movements. A drip IV could not do that.

A priest comes at 7:00 a.m., hears Ellie's confession and gives her last rites. There is some waiting, and then the time comes for Ellie to go.

Chapter 14: Ellie’s Execution Day​

It was five a.m. on Saturday, May 3, the day of Ellie’s execution.

“Ok, got this form for you to fill out,” the medic said. “This is just next-of-kin or whomever you designate to receive any personal effects of yours after your execution. You have parents or someone?”

“Never knew my dad. Mom, well, she died years ago, uh… accident,” she said.

“Sorry!” Ellie’s pause before she labeled her mother’s death an accident didn’t escape the medic. Probably an accidental OD, he thought.

“It’s ok. I… I wouldn’t want her to see me… crucified. Makes it a little easier, I guess.” Ellie was lost in thought, maybe remembering her mother.

“Well,” she came back presently, “I guess I still have an older brother somewhere, Tommy. He’s eight years older than me. He took off when he was sixteen. Haven’t seen him in years. Last I heard, back when I was about eleven, he was in the Army. Tommy… Thomas Ruck is his name. I… I hope he never finds out about me. If he turns up, well, nothing left to give him. Just, if you see him, tell him I loved him and I’m sorry I disappointed him. Wish things had turned out differently.”

Ellie filled in the form and signed it, returned it to the medic. He took it and wrote a note on the back.

“Doctor will take you to X-ray and install a PICC line at six. That goes in a vein on the inside of your right calf for your IV connection once you’ve been crucified.”

“Weird place for an IV!” Ellie said.

“Yeah, it is. It’s, well, not very visible to the crowd and it… uh, doesn’t get in the way there.”

Ellie didn’t say anything. In a moment, the medic continued.

“We’ll run one more IV at seven. Same thing you’ve been getting, but more high-energy nutrients to get you through the day, start the military-grade stimulants and sensory enhancements,” the medic told her. “Then I’ll remove the canula in your arm. Won’t need that anymore.”

“Yay!” Ellie said.

“That stim is going to make you jittery. And the sensory enhancements will make you feel everything more intensely. Sorry about that, it’s procedure.”

“Fuck it.” Ellie said helplessly, taking another bite of raspberry Jell-o. “I’m glad it’s finally here. The sooner it starts the sooner it will be over and then I won’t feel anything, I guess. Do you believe there’s life after death?”

“Yes. Yes, I do,” the medic said. “I’m a Christian, I believe Christ died for our sins.”

“Don’t you think it’s sacrilegious for the Federal Government to crucify people, then? Isn’t this mocking Jesus?” Ellie said, bitterly.

“No, I don’t. Jesus was one man out of hundreds of thousands who died on the cross,” the medic said. “The cross was an instrument for execution, for hundreds of years before and after Jesus. Romans crucified so many that it was the norm. If people are dying on the cross today, it has nothing to do with Jesus’ death.”

“You’re being crucified today,” the medic continued. “You were convicted of treason, no doubt of your guilt, and the cross is your punishment. It was your choice.” He shrugged.

“Yeah, I made a lot of bad choices,” Ellie said. “I sure did.”

“The lady that does hair will be here shortly,” the medic said. “She can work on you while you’re on the IV, if necessary. I guess she’ll want to cut it short, but you can talk with her about that. And Glenda, the waxing lady, she’ll be here right after the hair lady to do some clean-up, she said.”

“And the priest will come at seven, talk with you if you want, give you last rites,” the medic concluded.

“Ok”

************************​

“Hair’s not allowed to hide your face,” Doris the hair lady said. “Yeah, normally we’d just cut it, but a ponytail would be ok, as long as it stays up. A braid’s easier to keep together for several days! You’ve got what, five days? That’s gonna be tough!” She shook her head sympathetically. “You’re not gonna care anyway after a couple of days I expect.”

“I’d rather have a ponytail if I can, keep it hanging free. I think it would be some comfort to feel it there. My hair means a lot to me and I don’t have anything left, now.”

“Guess you don’t! Well, you can keep your hair. Let me just brush it out and I’ll tie it for you. I’m gonna use some cotton cord to tie it. It’s strong, it’s gonna be wrapped several times around, every wrap knotted, and the last one triple knotted so it won’t ever come untied. It’s never gonna be taken out, but if it was, you’d have to just cut it, ok?”

************************​

“Ok,” Glenda said, “just lie back on the bed there and spread your legs for me, yeah, just pull your knees up, assume the position!” She chuckled. “This’ll just take a second.”

Ellie complied. Glenda squirted a little shaving cream in her hand and started smearing it over the areas between her legs that showed some stubble.

“You ok?” Glenda asked.

“No,” Ellie replied. “I’m scared to death!”

“Yeah, well that don’t surprise me. Wish I had somethin’ to say that’d help, but I never been good at that.” Glenda said as she quickly shaved her.

“You asked, and… and that was something,” Ellie said fervently. “Shows… well, shows you cared. Thanks for that!”

************************​

Ellie was dressed in a simple prison-uniform orange dress that buttoned up the front and cheap prison-issue panties when the priest arrived. The dress came down to just above her knees and was a little tight across her breasts. The government bought both those clothing items by the gross from the cheapest bidder.

She and the priest were alone while he heard her confession and delivered absolution, but the cameras remained on without sound. Two guards returned immediately after that while the priest prayed and performed last rites.

Last rites! I’m as good as dead, now, she thought. I guess… I’ll go to heaven after they finish putting me through hell here.

When the priest left, Ellie used the toilet, not even thinking to ask for any privacy. When she was done, the guards put a waist chain on her, shackled her wrists to it and shackled her ankles with a chain between them. Ellie didn’t want to think about why they were using padded leather cuffs on her wrists and ankles this time.

It was seven thirty a.m., and everything was ready. Ellie asked if she could have a Sprite. It was one of the only clear liquids she was allowed. One of the guards brought a can back with a straw and put it in her hands, which she couldn’t raise much above her waist. She hunched over to reach it and sip it clumsily while they waited.

At precisely eight o’clock, the warden came in and said, “Time to go.”

One of the guards took what was left of her Sprite. She hadn’t drunk much.

Ellie tried to stand but almost collapsed before the guards caught her. She broke down in tears.

“Oh please no don’t hurt me, I-I don’t want to die, not the cross, oh please don’t crucify meee, oh please God no nails oh please…” Ellie sobbed.

The warden and the guards stood and watched her for a moment. They had seen all this before, almost every time they had to take a condemned criminal to die. Some of them vomited, some collapsed, some fought, but only a precious few went stoically.

“Take it one step at a time,” a guard at her side said. “We got to go now, got somewhere to be.”

The guards were prepared for this, supporting her and half-carrying her along the “last mile” past cells of prisoners who did not meet her with catcalls but with open hands extended through the bars and words of compassion and support.

“Be strong, babe!”

“Yeah, only your body, only your body! Can’t touch the real you inside!”

“You show ‘em, you tough!”

“Yeah!”

She blinked her eyes in the bright sunlight outside. The white prison van with its back door open waited for her by the curb, a police car parked in front of and behind it as escorts. The warden watched as the guards guided her to the door, and, because of her chains, carefully lifted her into the van by her underarms and thighs.

“Watch her head,” the guard holding her legs said.

“Yeah, got it,” the other one said, putting a hand on top of Ellie’s head protectively, bending her neck a little to ease her head under the door frame. She would not be injured on their watch, but that would change when her execution began.

The guards settled her into the back seat of the van and strapped her in for the forty-five-minute trip.

“Ready to go,” one of the guards said to the driver. The warden got in the front passenger seat and the three vehicles pulled away.

Ellie watched the farmland around the prison go by in a daze, pastures, cows, a gray-haired man driving a green John Deere tractor with yellow wheels, all so ordinary and normal, like any other day. Cars were pulled over, waiting for their convoy with its police escort and flashing lights to pass. Life was going on for all of them while at nineteen years old, she was on her way to die.
 
Chapter 13: The Last Day
You get us puzzled by a sniper--------will he shoot her because she's a traitor, or to put her out of her misery, or what? And then an appeal after nailing? So will medics get to her first, or the sniper? Or will SCOTUS act like right-wing demagogues and deny an appeal?



You certainly know how to keep the tension up, jedakk!

Ed: (Just read Ch 14, details change too rapidly for sensible comments from senile brains!)
 
Chapter 14 is titled "Ellie's Execution Day." It probably seems like I've gone through an awful lot of buildup to get to this point, but here we are. Ellie is awake at 5:00 a.m. eating her last meal, a bowl of raspberry Jell-o while the medic tells her the morning schedule and they discuss some things. Doris, the lady who does hair for executions, comes shortly thereafter, then Glenda, the lady who did Ellie's Brazilian wax job, comes back for a touch-up, shaving any stubble between her legs.

The doctor is scheduled to install a PICC line at 6:00 a.m. PICC stands for Peripherally Inserted Central Catheter. It is a thin tube that is inserted into one of the smaller veins, usually in the arm, but in Ellie's case, it will go in her right calf, near the ankle. The tube is pushed through the small peripheral vein into a larger vein and finally ends in the Superior Vena Cava, the big vein that connects directly to the heart. When Ellie is crucified, they will connect an IV to her PICC line to deliver a constant flow of hydration, nutrients and drugs as needed. Instead of dripping from an IV bag hanging above her, it will be pumped up from below using a positive-displacement pump that delivers a constant dose regardless of changing pressure due to Ellie's movements. A drip IV could not do that.

A priest comes at 7:00 a.m., hears Ellie's confession and gives her last rites. There is some waiting, and then the time comes for Ellie to go.

Chapter 14: Ellie’s Execution Day​

It was five a.m. on Saturday, May 3, the day of Ellie’s execution.

“Ok, got this form for you to fill out,” the medic said. “This is just next-of-kin or whomever you designate to receive any personal effects of yours after your execution. You have parents or someone?”

“Never knew my dad. Mom, well, she died years ago, uh… accident,” she said.

“Sorry!” Ellie’s pause before she labeled her mother’s death an accident didn’t escape the medic. Probably an accidental OD, he thought.

“It’s ok. I… I wouldn’t want her to see me… crucified. Makes it a little easier, I guess.” Ellie was lost in thought, maybe remembering her mother.

“Well,” she came back presently, “I guess I still have an older brother somewhere, Tommy. He’s eight years older than me. He took off when he was sixteen. Haven’t seen him in years. Last I heard, back when I was about eleven, he was in the Army. Tommy… Thomas Ruck is his name. I… I hope he never finds out about me. If he turns up, well, nothing left to give him. Just, if you see him, tell him I loved him and I’m sorry I disappointed him. Wish things had turned out differently.”

Ellie filled in the form and signed it, returned it to the medic. He took it and wrote a note on the back.

“Doctor will take you to X-ray and install a PICC line at six. That goes in a vein on the inside of your right calf for your IV connection once you’ve been crucified.”

“Weird place for an IV!” Ellie said.

“Yeah, it is. It’s, well, not very visible to the crowd and it… uh, doesn’t get in the way there.”

Ellie didn’t say anything. In a moment, the medic continued.

“We’ll run one more IV at seven. Same thing you’ve been getting, but more high-energy nutrients to get you through the day, start the military-grade stimulants and sensory enhancements,” the medic told her. “Then I’ll remove the canula in your arm. Won’t need that anymore.”

“Yay!” Ellie said.

“That stim is going to make you jittery. And the sensory enhancements will make you feel everything more intensely. Sorry about that, it’s procedure.”

“Fuck it.” Ellie said helplessly, taking another bite of raspberry Jell-o. “I’m glad it’s finally here. The sooner it starts the sooner it will be over and then I won’t feel anything, I guess. Do you believe there’s life after death?”

“Yes. Yes, I do,” the medic said. “I’m a Christian, I believe Christ died for our sins.”

“Don’t you think it’s sacrilegious for the Federal Government to crucify people, then? Isn’t this mocking Jesus?” Ellie said, bitterly.

“No, I don’t. Jesus was one man out of hundreds of thousands who died on the cross,” the medic said. “The cross was an instrument for execution, for hundreds of years before and after Jesus. Romans crucified so many that it was the norm. If people are dying on the cross today, it has nothing to do with Jesus’ death.”

“You’re being crucified today,” the medic continued. “You were convicted of treason, no doubt of your guilt, and the cross is your punishment. It was your choice.” He shrugged.

“Yeah, I made a lot of bad choices,” Ellie said. “I sure did.”

“The lady that does hair will be here shortly,” the medic said. “She can work on you while you’re on the IV, if necessary. I guess she’ll want to cut it short, but you can talk with her about that. And Glenda, the waxing lady, she’ll be here right after the hair lady to do some clean-up, she said.”

“And the priest will come at seven, talk with you if you want, give you last rites,” the medic concluded.

“Ok”

************************​

“Hair’s not allowed to hide your face,” Doris the hair lady said. “Yeah, normally we’d just cut it, but a ponytail would be ok, as long as it stays up. A braid’s easier to keep together for several days! You’ve got what, five days? That’s gonna be tough!” She shook her head sympathetically. “You’re not gonna care anyway after a couple of days I expect.”

“I’d rather have a ponytail if I can, keep it hanging free. I think it would be some comfort to feel it there. My hair means a lot to me and I don’t have anything left, now.”

“Guess you don’t! Well, you can keep your hair. Let me just brush it out and I’ll tie it for you. I’m gonna use some cotton cord to tie it. It’s strong, it’s gonna be wrapped several times around, every wrap knotted, and the last one triple knotted so it won’t ever come untied. It’s never gonna be taken out, but if it was, you’d have to just cut it, ok?”

************************​

“Ok,” Glenda said, “just lie back on the bed there and spread your legs for me, yeah, just pull your knees up, assume the position!” She chuckled. “This’ll just take a second.”

Ellie complied. Glenda squirted a little shaving cream in her hand and started smearing it over the areas between her legs that showed some stubble.

“You ok?” Glenda asked.

“No,” Ellie replied. “I’m scared to death!”

“Yeah, well that don’t surprise me. Wish I had somethin’ to say that’d help, but I never been good at that.” Glenda said as she quickly shaved her.

“You asked, and… and that was something,” Ellie said fervently. “Shows… well, shows you cared. Thanks for that!”

************************​

Ellie was dressed in a simple prison-uniform orange dress that buttoned up the front and cheap prison-issue panties when the priest arrived. The dress came down to just above her knees and was a little tight across her breasts. The government bought both those clothing items by the gross from the cheapest bidder.

She and the priest were alone while he heard her confession and delivered absolution, but the cameras remained on without sound. Two guards returned immediately after that while the priest prayed and performed last rites.

Last rites! I’m as good as dead, now, she thought. I guess… I’ll go to heaven after they finish putting me through hell here.

When the priest left, Ellie used the toilet, not even thinking to ask for any privacy. When she was done, the guards put a waist chain on her, shackled her wrists to it and shackled her ankles with a chain between them. Ellie didn’t want to think about why they were using padded leather cuffs on her wrists and ankles this time.

It was seven thirty a.m., and everything was ready. Ellie asked if she could have a Sprite. It was one of the only clear liquids she was allowed. One of the guards brought a can back with a straw and put it in her hands, which she couldn’t raise much above her waist. She hunched over to reach it and sip it clumsily while they waited.

At precisely eight o’clock, the warden came in and said, “Time to go.”

One of the guards took what was left of her Sprite. She hadn’t drunk much.

Ellie tried to stand but almost collapsed before the guards caught her. She broke down in tears.

“Oh please no don’t hurt me, I-I don’t want to die, not the cross, oh please don’t crucify meee, oh please God no nails oh please…” Ellie sobbed.

The warden and the guards stood and watched her for a moment. They had seen all this before, almost every time they had to take a condemned criminal to die. Some of them vomited, some collapsed, some fought, but only a precious few went stoically.

“Take it one step at a time,” a guard at her side said. “We got to go now, got somewhere to be.”

The guards were prepared for this, supporting her and half-carrying her along the “last mile” past cells of prisoners who did not meet her with catcalls but with open hands extended through the bars and words of compassion and support.

“Be strong, babe!”

“Yeah, only your body, only your body! Can’t touch the real you inside!”

“You show ‘em, you tough!”

“Yeah!”

She blinked her eyes in the bright sunlight outside. The white prison van with its back door open waited for her by the curb, a police car parked in front of and behind it as escorts. The warden watched as the guards guided her to the door, and, because of her chains, carefully lifted her into the van by her underarms and thighs.

“Watch her head,” the guard holding her legs said.

“Yeah, got it,” the other one said, putting a hand on top of Ellie’s head protectively, bending her neck a little to ease her head under the door frame. She would not be injured on their watch, but that would change when her execution began.

The guards settled her into the back seat of the van and strapped her in for the forty-five-minute trip.

“Ready to go,” one of the guards said to the driver. The warden got in the front passenger seat and the three vehicles pulled away.

Ellie watched the farmland around the prison go by in a daze, pastures, cows, a gray-haired man driving a green John Deere tractor with yellow wheels, all so ordinary and normal, like any other day. Cars were pulled over, waiting for their convoy with its police escort and flashing lights to pass. Life was going on for all of them while at nineteen years old, she was on her way to die.
Great, gripping tension. Finally she's getting crucified. But . . .

Oh no! I sense a stay of execution coming. Why else would you bring the lawyer back in about an appeal that she should have filed. (She should be censored by the state bar, at least, for that oversight! Not looking out for the best interests of her client.)

Can a stay of execution be issued once someone is nailed? Will she be lying on her cross already nailed--or partially nailed--waiting to see if her execution is to be carried out. Where are you going with this? When, exactly, is she executed? Most executions are quick--over in a minute or two, at most. Can she be taken down from her cross before death and given a reprieve? So many questions? So many fine legal points.

You sure keep us guessing!
 
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Oh no! I sense a stay of execution coming. Why else would you bring the lawyer back in about an appeal that she should have filed.

Maybe!

When, exactly, is she executed?

Her execution officially begins when the federal crucifixion inspector checks everything and declares her "Fairly Crucified". The contractor can't get paid until he does that, and that's when her five days begins running. She's also "statutorily deceased" at that point - legally dead even though physically, death is far off. Can a person who is legally dead file an appeal? Stay tuned for the next thrilling episode! :smilie-devil:
 
Maybe!



Her execution officially begins when the federal crucifixion inspector checks everything and declares her "Fairly Crucified". The contractor can't get paid until he does that, and that's when her five days begins running. She's also "statutorily deceased" at that point - legally dead even though physically, death is far off. Can a person who is legally dead file an appeal? Stay tuned for the next thrilling episode! :smilie-devil:
So, she's not "fairly crucified" and "statutorily deceased" until she's fully nailed and the cross is elevated and secured. Then the inspector verifies that she is crucified in accordance with the law--right? No going back after that! Just waiting for her to die. Like waiting for someone to die from a lethal injection or when dangling from a noose. There is a point of no return. But, up to that point, I see room for legal maneuverings!
 
It probably seems like I've gone through an awful lot of buildup to get to this point, but here we are.
Actually I enjoy that ... the confrontation with the incomprehensible, all the preparations and procedures, the gradual settling into a kind of acknowledgement of the inevitable. All those are experiences that are communicable & the story does a very good job at that ...
 
You get us puzzled by a sniper--------will he shoot her because she's a traitor, or to put her out of her misery, or what? And then an appeal after nailing? So will medics get to her first, or the sniper? Or will SCOTUS act like right-wing demagogues and deny an appeal?



You certainly know how to keep the tension up, jedakk!

Ed: (Just read Ch 14, details change too rapidly for sensible comments from senile brains!)
My guess is that the sniper is the brother!!
We will see!
 
Chapter 13 is titled "The Last Day." The chapter actually begins on the day before, after they finally took Ellie down from the cross where they did her final fitting for her sedile. She was traumatized emotionally and physically from that experience and wanted nothing more than to withdraw into the tranquilizers that would calm and relax her.

On her last day, there's a tetanus shot, another IV, and later in the day, the laxatives that will clean her out inside to prepare her for her execution. Health Department says no human feces are allowed in the park. While she's sitting on the toilet, Ellie reads the announcement of her crucifixion in the newspaper and gets a copy of the program for all the events tomorrow; whipping, carrying and crucifixion. Plenty of event parking!

Meanwhile, an ex-army sniper in Montana who lives alone gets his mail, and Alice, Ellie's lawyer, files a last-minute appeal.

Note: SCOTUS is an acronym for Supreme Court Of The Unites States.

Chapter 13: The Last Day​

Ellie kept crying.

She was back in her cell, lying on the plastic bed in a fetal position with her blanket over her head. Her hands were between her legs, clutching herself protectively, rubbing, trying to sooth the ache down there.

The hour they forced her to hang on that cross was traumatic, horrible. She could still feel the tingling of the repeated violations by those dildos. There was a throbbing in her girl parts where she had only felt the thrill of sexual excitement before. She had been sore after some of the intense lovemaking with Jeremy, but not like this. No, never like this!

And it was so humiliating! To be naked and helpless, struggling in front of those men! Taking those… things inside of her like some hard-core porn star. Over and over while the man made his adjustments and told her to do it again! They wouldn’t take her down until he was satisfied, no matter how many times she did it and no matter how much she hurt.

She would cry herself out, sobbing hysterically until she had nothing left, try to compose herself, then break down again.

What was she going to do? What could she possibly do? Drown herself in the toilet? Stupid! Strangle herself with her ankle chain? There was nothing sharp or breakable in this room. They were watching her twenty-four hours a day. Anything that didn’t kill her instantly would be stopped within seconds.

She was glad when the medic came to set up her IV. She wanted the drugs that would relax her, let her escape for a little while, anyway.

************************​

Ellie was awake, sitting naked and cross-legged on her bed, muscles sore from her brief time on a cross. She no longer had any idea what day or time it was, so when the medic came with her Jell-o she had to ask him. It didn’t occur to her to cover herself in his presence anymore. Some things just didn’t seem to matter.

“It’s a little after five a.m.,” the medic said.

“What – what day?” She asked, anxiously, afraid this might be THE day.

“Last day. Tomorrow at eight a.m. it’ll be time for you to go,” he replied.

“Oh! Uh…”

“Yeah, I know. Best you can say is that in a few days it’ll all be over,” he said.

“Maybe…” Well, maybe in a week. She looked down and saw the blue tattooed “X” on her left wrist.

“Got to give you a tetanus booster,” the medic said. “Can’t put it into your IV, has to be intramuscular, so another stick. Sorry!”

“Ok.” She replied. “Which arm do you want?”

“Actually, I need you to stand up and bend over the bed. This one goes in your butt.”

“Oh well, why not?” Ellie sighed, unfolded her legs and slipped off the edge of the bed, careful not to tangle her feet in her chain. She bent over and put her hands on the bed, felt the stick of the needle but managed not to flinch.

“I’m, uh, really going to need that next IV soon,” Ellie said, an edge in her voice.

“No problem, I’ll get it and start you now. I can give you a full dose of the anxiety medication this morning, but this afternoon I’ll need to hold off maybe three hours. At noon, you have to drink Golytely, it’s a laxative that will flush your bowels,” the medic said. I’ll give you something before that will make you pretty flakey but not sleepy.

Ellie looked blank.

“You’re going to have diarrhea for about three hours, need to be awake for that. The last of it’s going to be almost clear. Then it’ll stop.”

“Oh,” Ellie said, thinking about that.

“Health Department says human feces are an environmental hazard. Can’t have that in the park, where you’re going to be,” the medic said.

“On my cross,” Ellie said.

“Yeah, on your cross. I’ll get your IV bags and be right back.”

************************​

The sniper made the hike up to the mailbox every day, rain or shine, with his German shepherd, Clyde. Both man and dog were ex-military; both had been to war and come back.

The man thought he might be happy here in the Montana mountains, away from people. He wasn’t sure he was really happy, but at least he was less sad. Clyde was another story, always on the alert, twenty-four hours a day, not used to this quiet. But he was getting better.

There was usually nothing in the mailbox that needed his attention, mostly just stuff good for starting a fire. And not that he needed that, either; he could start a fire with no more than two matches anytime, any weather. Or no matches at all if need be.

He’d learned such things in the Army, doing what he did best. But he’d had his fill of pulling a trigger, waiting, and a few seconds later seeing someone in the distance die. He was confident everyone he’d killed was bad and needed to die, but he wanted someone else to do that work now.

There was mail today, and a newspaper. Nothing important. He scanned over the newspaper while he walked, seeing mostly crap. Stupid politicians finding ways to waste tax money, global warming bullshit. On page three there was something about some woman down in Texas convicted of treason who was due to be crucified on the third, which was the next day.

He was about to read more, but Clyde began barking with an urgency that said he needed to come see about it. It turned out to be a good-sized rattlesnake, maybe five feet long. Nothing new about that; they were moving this time of day.

He placed a single shot through its head with his 9mm Beretta pistol, sliced what was left of the head off with his lock blade. He cautioned Clyde not to smell of it. A decapitated rattlesnake head could still bite and inject venom for a long time. Although it didn’t look like this one was capable.

He picked up the body, which continued to writhe slowly on its own, even without the head, and carried it with him back to the cabin. He’d dress it out, cut it up and throw it on the barbecue grill for supper. It would taste just like barbecued chicken, just had to eat around all those damned rib bones.

At the cabin, he threw the newspaper on the table to read later.

************************​

“Hi Jenny, this is Alice Goodman. You doing ok? Yeah, same shit, different day, huh?

Jenny was the secretary for the Clerk of the US Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit in New Orleans.

“Listen, I’m the lawyer for Ellie Ruck. Yeah, the one who was convicted of treason Wednesday afternoon. I need to file an appeal. Yeah, should have filed it Wednesday right after the sentence and now here it is Friday. Didn’t think it was worth it, still don’t, but I had a change of heart. I’d be remiss if I didn’t at least try.

“Listen, Jenny, this is just a dumb girl who got herself in trouble. She can’t even spell “treason.” I know, crucified tomorrow. I know, only SCOTUS can stay it, but has to go through Appeals first. Not gonna be able to stop it in time, but maybe we can get it halted and take her down.

No, I don’t know either if the doctors can save her once she’s been nailed to the cross. Can’t we try? OK, sending it to you for review right now.”

Alice clicked “Send”.

“Got it? Ok, let me know ASAP. Thanks a bunch, Jenny, I owe you!”

************************​



When the medic brought her Golytely to drink later, he brought Ellie a newspaper with her crucifixion announcement and one of the programs that had been printed up with the schedules for her whipping and crucifixion. She was indeed flakey from the stuff he’d injected into her IV.

Damn! This picture is a mug shot! She thought, looking at the program. I look surprised by the flash, and it makes my face look fat, too. Wish they’d used a better one. Probably should have used nude photos of me so people would recognize me! That made her laugh.

She read the newspaper while she sat on the toilet. She wished she could see what they would write about her for her obituary sometime next week, if they bothered to print one. “Ellie Ruck, nineteen years old, died by slow asphyxiation after five days of suffering from an excess of iron in her body, accomplished nothing at all in her life although she died spectacularly.” She broke out laughing again. I’d love to read that, but I expect to be gone then! And fuck them, that’s what they think! They don’t know the revolution’s coming. Hell, I’ll be a hero!

The program gave the details of her conviction: “Found guilty of treason, condemned to death by crucifixion,” yada yada and fuck all that.

“Note that Ms. Ruck will be stripped naked for whipping and will remain naked throughout her sentence. Parents are admonished this event may not be appropriate for children under seventeen.” Hmph! Well fuck me! If only I were, let’s see… she counted on her fingers, three years younger, I wouldn’t be able to attend that event! And hell, that would be fine with me.

The whipping is to begin at ten a.m., Saturday, May 3. And the public whipping post, which, as Alice said, is really a platform, is the one in the amphitheater at the south entrance to Jones Park.

Oh! Ellie thought, that’s a nice spot. Good place for horny teenagers to spread a blanket on Saturday nights and fuck their brains out, as I recall! Let’s see, easy to get to and plenty of event parking, says so right here! Rain delays? Hmm… “In case of rain, this event may be rescheduled.”

Her hands were shaking as she picked up the newspaper and leafed through, looking for the weather forecast. She sighed as she read it: “Saturday May 3, clear and hot. High 92 degrees, low 75. Chance of rain, zero.” Oh well, might have given me another day or two to enjoy here in my own little world. They’d probably make me go through this diarrhea drill all over again anyway.

She picked up the program again and studied it. “Ms. Ruck will receive fifty lashes… single-tail whip… procession to place of execution to leave at eleven a.m… Ms. Ruck to carry her crossbeam if physically able after her whipping. Hmm… Attendees invited to participate in the procession.”

So where the hell is the place of execution? She wondered.

She flipped the page and found out. The procession route followed a scenic hiking path that looped around alongside the river for about three-quarters of a mile, then across an open field to the top of a small, grassy hill. My Calvary! Well, a nice view for me while I die, at least, Ellie thought. And I’ll finally be able to see over the crowd! I’ve always been too short to do that.

For those who didn’t want to hike, it was only about a quarter mile by road from the whipping platform, and again, plenty of event parking, folks!

“This is a five-day event but may be extended if necessary.” Right, if the star of the show doesn’t expire on schedule… “Special performances at 8 p.m. – get there early for a good spot to spread your blanket on the grass!” Uh-oh! That can’t be good! “Watch for events coming soon!” Some other poor sons of bitches? Maybe I’ll live long enough to see some of them. We can- Ellie giggled, we can hang out together! She laughed at the joke she’d made.

At least I’ll die with purpose. They’ll remember me when the revolution happens. Maybe name a school or park after me!

She began to laugh hysterically and then started crying.

************************​

“Hello - Oh, hi Jenny!” Alice said hopefully. It was already after five pm.

“You’re kidding! So they said my client shouldn’t have been tried on that charge? Huh! Based on what, we didn’t have any exculpatory evidence to say she didn’t create those leaflets, other than, well, she’s too damned dumb to have written them, but, you know, that dog wouldn’t hunt.”

“What?! Police rounded up the rest of the group! Based on that info I got out of her? Right, yeah, I didn’t say it, that was an anonymous source that told them. And they found stacks of those leaflets there… ”

“Jeremy, yeah, so Jeremy Garrison is his name… You mean he really did send her out there to get rid of her, just tired of her shit? Hell, I just made that up talking to her! So the sorry fuck really was trying to get rid of her, really did tip off the police to her! I can’t believe this!”

“And based on the new evidence, she should get a new trial as an accessory? But SCOTUS has to rule to stay her execution first? There’s not anything the Appeals court can do?”

“Ok, well… So you sent it on to SCOTUS, and the clerk said Monday? Shit! She gets nailed to a cross tomorrow! Under the circumstances, can’t one of the justices look at it and rule on a stay?”

“He said WHAT?!”
Nice twist to the story Jedakk! Then I read 14 and it is even more throbbing that it will give you a panic attack wondering what will happen with each step.
 
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