6.) The return of the soldier brought no comfort to her. She remembered the viciousness with which he had raped her before nailing her to the cross. Now totally helpless–naked and exposed–she feared what he would do to her. He didn’t disappoint her expectations. Her face and breasts were repeatedly and painfully slapped. Her nipples and clit were brutally pinched, squeezed, twisted, tugged until the tears streamed down her cheeks. He thrust his fingers deep inside the most tender and intimate recesses of her body–thrusting, scrapping, probing deeply as she whimpered and sobbing in pain and humiliation. Finally he stopped, looked into her tear-filled eyes, "You’re wearing yourself out too quickly and we want to keep you alive, alert and in agony for a long time. This will help..." From his bag, he extracted a wooden cornu which he nailed to the cross and then forced it deep into her already battered anus. She screamed as it was worked inside her and stretched the tight sheath of her rectum filling her completely. More than anything she wanted it out and she moaned in agony and shame at this crude violation. Still, it did the trick and provided her some support–however degrading it might he. It would keep her alive longer, which was, to be honest, no mercy. He gently brushed a strand of hair from out of her eyes and softly–almost tenderly-- touched her tear-streaked cheek before moving his hand lower and giving her nipple a painful pinch and a twist. He chuckled and whispered softly, "Don’t worry, slut. I’ll be back for more real soon..."