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It Happened In Namur

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shastar said:
As Marcus approached her, she tried to kick him with her right leg, only to realise that even that simple movement was causing her too much pain to endure. As he prudently stayed away from her reach, another lictor and a guard grabbeb her left leg. With her attention diverted, two other men quickly and firmly took control of her right leg.

Her left leg was pulled up, slightly sideways, and a lictor positioned the sole of her foot flat on the side of the stipe, approximately 40cm from her buttocks. Marcus put a huge, 18cm-long, large-headed nail on her instep. She looked in horror as the first blow was delivered.

Her head tilted up and her whole body spasmed, as she howled her agony to the sky. Marcus was deliberatery making it slow, pounding the hammer with measured strenght, stopping to check his victim's reactions, grinning at her horrendous screams. The guards holding her right leg were struggling to keep it in place.

He wiped out the blood that had spattered in his face. Then, ignoring Barbaria’s pityful moans and writhing, he casually went to the other leg. As her right foot was positioned in the same way as the left one, she wailed in pain and humiliation. Her legs were painfully forced apart, arching her back, roughly forcing her lacerated flesh onto the wooden post behind her.

It seemed to her that the nailing of her delicate, slender foot would never end, as if she was prisoner of an eternity of hellish torment. She shrieked at each blow, calling for her Gods to help her or shouting 'I can't... I can't!' between each of them. With an ominous sound of broken bones and a spray of blood, the head of the nail finally sunk into her instep. She screamed, trashed, retched, spat... then, as the Romans released her legs from their grip, her full weight fell on the nails and she let out a new wail of utter misery.

Marcus then picked up a plaque, along with a nail and climbed the ladder again. He nailed the small piece of wood in place, a few inches above the head of the crucified woman. 'Barbaria, rebel Queen'. This was too much honour for her, he thought. He would have chosen another titulus for the bitch. But these were Tullius' orders. Not something to dispute, especially as the general seemed to be in a very bad mood.

Barbaria wailed as the titulus was hammered into the post, wave after wave of terrible pain invading her wounded wrists and feet again. Then, for a moment, she just hung from the cross, arms wide and up, the muscles of her shoulders and chest stretched to the limit, drawing her ribcage out. Her head was dangling and she was struggling to take heaving, sobbing breaths.

But Marcus still had one last task to do to complete his gruesome job. He brutally tore the loincloth from her and threw it away, an expression of disgust on his face. The legionaries cheered as the beautiful Queen was left completely naked.

Her mind raced as her mouth opened wide in disbelief. Yesterday she had been a Queen, powerful and respected. Now, she was naked, nailed to a cross, her intimate parts shamefully displayed for all to see. 'Like the lowliest criminal slave', she thought. New tears rolled down her pretty face. She raised her head and looked in desperation at Tullius.

He tried to keep his composure, but those closest to him coud see his jaws trembling and his hand nervously squeezing the pommel of his gladius.

'Roman law requires that you be crucified naked, Your Majesty. And I don't think it would be appropriate to let you die in a filthy piece of rag. Anyway', he added after detailing her quivering, gleaming body, 'there is nothing you should be ashamed of.'
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Wow Shastar! After reading this one, I am too breathless to pen a response.

I do object strenuously, though, to the ripping away of my loincloth. Soiled or not, it was all I had! You promised! How could you! Damn! Never trust a Roman. They'll either stab you in the back or rip away your loincloth! Devious lot they are! If I were not crucified naked up on this cross and he was up here instead as my prisoner, I would more than squeeze the pommel of his gladius! I would have it cut off!!!!

Now, how do I manage this breathing thing ... push up and pull at the same time? Owww, that really hurts! And I can't sustain it for long. My legs start to shake and wobble, and my back rubs on the post and starts bleeding again.

So, all I can do is dance the dance, perform my lewd little ritual over and over again to the crowd's delight until I weaken and the crowd finally loses interest. Is there no end to my public humiliation!

But, damn it, I am a Queen. If I can do nothing else, I will show them what endurance is all about ... I will outlast them, I will! Just watch!
 
Barbaria1 said:
Wow Shastar! After reading this one, I am too breathless to pen a response.
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I'm flattered, really ! Thank you so much ! :)

Barbaria1 said:
I do object strenuously, though, to the ripping away of my loincloth. Soiled or not, it was all I had! You promised! How could you! Damn! Never trust a Roman. They'll either stab you in the back or rip away your loincloth! Devious lot they are! If I were not crucified naked up on this cross and he was up here instead as my prisoner, I would more than squeeze the pommel of his gladius! I would have it cut off!!!!
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Erm, well... Dura lex, sed lex. The loincloth was for the walk and the nailing only... :oops:

Barbaria1 said:
But, damn it, I am a Queen. If I can do nothing else, I will show them what endurance is all about ... I will outlast them I will! Just watch!
Click to expand...


See? That loincloth episode has cheered you up, after all :p ;)
 
Barbaria1 said:
Wow Shastar! After reading this one, I am too breathless to pen a response.

I do object strenuously, though, to the ripping away of my loincloth. Soiled or not, it was all I had! You promised! How could you! Damn! Never trust a Roman. They'll either stab you in the back or rip away your loincloth! Devious lot they are! If I were not crucified naked up on this cross and he was up here instead as my prisoner, I would more than squeeze the pommel of his gladius! I would have it cut off!!!!

Now, how do I manage this breathing thing ... push up and pull at the same time? Owww, that really hurts! And I can't sustain it for long. My legs start to shake and wobble, and my back rubs on the post and starts bleeding again.

So, all I can do is dance the dance, perform my lewd little ritual over and over again to the crowd's delight until I weaken and the crowd finally loses interest. Is there no end to my public humiliation!

But, damn it, I am a Queen. If I can do nothing else, I will show them what endurance is all about ... I will outlast them, I will! Just watch!
Click to expand...

You are a brave and beautiful woman Barbaria but all your good intentions and fortitude will come to nought.
We (the sorcerers) can control your mind and your body ..... even from a distance of many leagues.

1. You will lay on your back or sit in a chair (preferably a spiked one)
2. You will rotate your right foot in a clockwise direction.
3. You will now describe the number six in the air with your right hand.
4. You are now thinking ....... OH MY GOD.
 
It didn't take long before the Queen learned how to survive on the cross.

In search for air, she forced her body painfully upwards by slowly pushing on her nailed feet. Her face contorted in pain as blood oozed from the terrible wounds. Her body arched and her bloody back slid up the rough wooden stipe. She screamed in agony as she reached the apogee of her movement, took a couple of deep breaths and then fell back down the cross. Her knees splayed out, offering the onlookers a full view of her delicate womanly parts. She moaned as her weight was once again almost entirely supported by the nails in her wrists.

The painful, humiliating dance of the crucified. Barbaria knew she would perform it in front of her people and her enemies for hours, maybe more. She was now fully aware of the horror and cruelty of her ordeal.

Marcus admired the result of his handywork for a moment, then went back towards the spectators.

'I told you to make it quick!' Said Tullius as the lictor was passing by him.

'Well... Sir... I was just trying to cause her pain... To make her talk, Sir!'

'Don't take me for a fool, Marcus. I need your... talents, right now. But next time you dare to disobey my orders, your assistants will get the opportunity to practice their skills on you! Is that clear ?

'Perfectly clear, Sir, I'm sorry, sir'

Marcus decided it was safer to keep his distances from Tullius until further notice. Never had the General shown any kind of mercy during an execution, and certainly not when the victim was an attractive woman. By Jupiter! What was happening to him, today ?

Two hours had passed. For the second time, a guard pressed a wet sponge onto the lips of the crucified Queen. Although she knew that it would only protract her sufferings, she drank the foul water eagerly. She was so thirsty - and her whole body was on fire, exposed naked to the blazing sun. 'What a cruel irony', she thought. 'It almost always rains in this land. And it has never been so hot than on the day I'm crucified! What did I do to displease the Gods so much ?'

She had struggled to find a position that would ease the pain, trying to balance her weight on the four metal spikes torturing her to death. Again and again she failed. She had repeatedly tried to lean one side or another, but to no avail. It still hurt like hell. And now, cramps were beginning to spread in her arms and legs, making her body shake uncontrollably. Once again, she found the resolve to push down on her mangled feet, exchanging agony against a little respite for her arms and some fresh air. She gasped, her breasts heaved with effort, her body jerked in pain and she took a hoarse and deep breath. She slumped brutally, shrieking. Then a desperate wail resonated throughout the circus.

She was obviously losing her strenght fast. Her body was betraying the fierce resolution of her mind. Marcus decided it was time to do his job. He walked to his General, who now stood under the shadow of a tree, motionless as a marble statue.

'Sir, I'm afraid she won't last long', he said respectfully. 'In that position, weakened like she is and with this hellish heat... She could be dead in 3 or 4 hours. Maybe less. I think we should provide her with... Well, you know.'

Tullius sighed and nodded. With almost the whole Legion assembled there, there was no escape. He had to do his duty.

He walked toward the cross and stood very close of Barbaria's shivering body, his head at the level of her bleeding feet. He winced, raised his head and locked his eyes into hers. He found mainly pain and exhaustion in them, but some defiance and anger were still present. He spoke in a low voice, as to make sure that most spectators would not be able to understand what he was saying.

'Tell me where your warriors are hiding. There will be no shame in it. You've proven your courage and you'll be remembered for that. Or at least, Your Majesty, give me some valuable information. Give me a reason to end this quickly.'

'Please...' he added after some hesitation, almost whispering now...
 
shastar said:
It didn't take long before the Queen learned how to survive on the cross.

In search for air, she forced her body painfully upwards by slowly pushing on her nailed feet. Her face contorted in pain as blood oozed from the terrible wounds. Her body arched and her bloody back slid up the rough wooden stipe. She screamed in agony as she reached the apogee of her movement, took a couple of deep breaths and then fell back down the cross. Her knees splayed out, offering the onlookers a full view of her delicate womanly parts. She moaned as her weight was once again almost entirely supported by the nails in her wrists.

The painful, humiliating dance of the crucified. Barbaria knew she would perform it in front of her people and her enemies for hours, maybe more. She was now fully aware of the horror and cruelty of her ordeal.

Marcus admired the result of his handywork for a moment, then went back towards the spectators.

'I told you to make it quick!' Said Tullius as the lictor was passing by him.

'Well... Sir... I was just trying to cause her pain... To make her talk, Sir!'

'Don't take me for a fool, Marcus. I need your... talents, right now. But next time you dare to disobey my orders, your assistants will get the opportunity to practice their skills on you! Is that clear ?

'Perfectly clear, Sir, I'm sorry, sir'

Marcus decided it was safer to keep his distances from Tullius until further notice. Never had the General shown any kind of mercy during an execution, and certainly not when the victim was an attractive woman. By Jupiter! What was happening to him, today ?

Two hours had passed. For the second time, a guard pressed a wet sponge onto the lips of the crucified Queen. Although she knew that it would only protract her sufferings, she drank the foul water eagerly. She was so thirsty - and her whole body was on fire, exposed naked to the blazing sun. 'What a cruel irony', she thought. 'It almost always rains in this land. And it has never been so hot than on the day I'm crucified! What did I do to displease the Gods so much ?'

She had struggled to find a position that would ease the pain, trying to balance her weight on the four metal spikes torturing her to death. Again and again she failed. She had repeatedly tried to lean one side or another, but to no avail. It still hurt like hell. And now, cramps were beginning to spread in her arms and legs, making her body shake uncontrollably. Once again, she found the resolve to push down on her mangled feet, exchanging agony against a little respite for her arms and some fresh air. She gasped, her breasts heaved with effort, her body jerked in pain and she took a hoarse and deep breath. She slumped brutally, shrieking. Then a desperate wail resonated throughout the circus.

She was obviously losing her strenght fast. Her body was betraying the fierce resolution of her mind. Marcus decided it was time to do his job. He walked to his General, who now stood under the shadow of a tree, motionless as a marble statue.

'Sir, I'm afraid she won't last long', he said respectfully. 'In that position, weakened like she is and with this hellish heat... She could be dead in 3 or 4 hours. Maybe less. I think we should provide her with... Well, you know.'

Tullius sighed and nodded. With almost the whole Legion assembled there, there was no escape. He had to do his duty.

He walked toward the cross and stood very close of Barbaria's shivering body, his head at the level of her bleeding feet. He winced, raised his head and locked his eyes into hers. He found mainly pain and exhaustion in them, but some defiance and anger were still present. He spoke in a low voice, as to make sure that most spectators would not be able to understand what he was saying.

'Tell me where your warriors are hiding. There will be no shame in it. You've proven your courage and you'll be remembered for that. Or at least, Your Majesty, give me some valuable information. Give me a reason to end this quickly.'

'Please...' he added after some hesitation, almost whispering now...
Click to expand...

Shastar, this is truly, truly excellent!
 
shastar said:
It didn't take long before the Queen learned how to survive on the cross.

In search for air, she forced her body painfully upwards by slowly pushing on her nailed feet. Her face contorted in pain as blood oozed from the terrible wounds. Her body arched and her bloody back slid up the rough wooden stipe. She screamed in agony as she reached the apogee of her movement, took a couple of deep breaths and then fell back down the cross. Her knees splayed out, offering the onlookers a full view of her delicate womanly parts. She moaned as her weight was once again almost entirely supported by the nails in her wrists.

The painful, humiliating dance of the crucified. Barbaria knew she would perform it in front of her people and her enemies for hours, maybe more. She was now fully aware of the horror and cruelty of her ordeal.

Marcus admired the result of his handywork for a moment, then went back towards the spectators.

'I told you to make it quick!' Said Tullius as the lictor was passing by him.

'Well... Sir... I was just trying to cause her pain... To make her talk, Sir!'

'Don't take me for a fool, Marcus. I need your... talents, right now. But next time you dare to disobey my orders, your assistants will get the opportunity to practice their skills on you! Is that clear ?

'Perfectly clear, Sir, I'm sorry, sir'

Marcus decided it was safer to keep his distances from Tullius until further notice. Never had the General shown any kind of mercy during an execution, and certainly not when the victim was an attractive woman. By Jupiter! What was happening to him, today ?

Two hours had passed. For the second time, a guard pressed a wet sponge onto the lips of the crucified Queen. Although she knew that it would only protract her sufferings, she drank the foul water eagerly. She was so thirsty - and her whole body was on fire, exposed naked to the blazing sun. 'What a cruel irony', she thought. 'It almost always rains in this land. And it has never been so hot than on the day I'm crucified! What did I do to displease the Gods so much ?'

She had struggled to find a position that would ease the pain, trying to balance her weight on the four metal spikes torturing her to death. Again and again she failed. She had repeatedly tried to lean one side or another, but to no avail. It still hurt like hell. And now, cramps were beginning to spread in her arms and legs, making her body shake uncontrollably. Once again, she found the resolve to push down on her mangled feet, exchanging agony against a little respite for her arms and some fresh air. She gasped, her breasts heaved with effort, her body jerked in pain and she took a hoarse and deep breath. She slumped brutally, shrieking. Then a desperate wail resonated throughout the circus.

She was obviously losing her strenght fast. Her body was betraying the fierce resolution of her mind. Marcus decided it was time to do his job. He walked to his General, who now stood under the shadow of a tree, motionless as a marble statue.

'Sir, I'm afraid she won't last long', he said respectfully. 'In that position, weakened like she is and with this hellish heat... She could be dead in 3 or 4 hours. Maybe less. I think we should provide her with... Well, you know.'

Tullius sighed and nodded. With almost the whole Legion assembled there, there was no escape. He had to do his duty.

He walked toward the cross and stood very close of Barbaria's shivering body, his head at the level of her bleeding feet. He winced, raised his head and locked his eyes into hers. He found mainly pain and exhaustion in them, but some defiance and anger were still present. He spoke in a low voice, as to make sure that most spectators would not be able to understand what he was saying.

'Tell me where your warriors are hiding. There will be no shame in it. You've proven your courage and you'll be remembered for that. Or at least, Your Majesty, give me some valuable information. Give me a reason to end this quickly.'

'Please...' he added after some hesitation, almost whispering now...
Click to expand...
Excellent chapter Shastar. Very well written, just like the others.
This is a great story.
 
Barbaria1 said:
Wow Shastar! After reading this one, I am too breathless to pen a response.

I do object strenuously, though, to the ripping away of my loincloth. Soiled or not, it was all I had! You promised! How could you! Damn! Never trust a Roman. They'll either stab you in the back or rip away your loincloth! Devious lot they are! If I were not crucified naked up on this cross and he was up here instead as my prisoner, I would more than squeeze the pommel of his gladius! I would have it cut off!!!!

Now, how do I manage this breathing thing ... push up and pull at the same time? Owww, that really hurts! And I can't sustain it for long. My legs start to shake and wobble, and my back rubs on the post and starts bleeding again.

So, all I can do is dance the dance, perform my lewd little ritual over and over again to the crowd's delight until I weaken and the crowd finally loses interest. Is there no end to my public humiliation!

But, damn it, I am a Queen. If I can do nothing else, I will show them what endurance is all about ... I will outlast them, I will! Just watch!
Click to expand...
You tell him!
Can't believe he broke his promise about the loincloth.:mad:
 
Hondoboot2 said:
Excellent chapter Shastar. Very well written, just like the others.
This is a great story.
Click to expand...

Thank you, Hondo. This is very encouraging :) In fact, I don't think it's 'very well written'. My English is... well, just what it is! Each time I read me back, I find spelling mistakes or worse :doh: I try to compensate with the storyline and the drama...
But I'm really happy that it pleases many people here and that Barb do me the honour of co-writing it with me ! :clapping:
 
I am near the end now. I lack the strength and the will to push up with my legs again. I hang listlessly, hoping for death. But wait, he offers me one last way out. I am reminded that I still have something he wants dearly. Perhaps I can still turn the tables on Tullius. I tell him that if he wants to know the answer to his question he must take me down, give me water and dress my wounds. Otherwise the answer to his question will die with me. My way or no way at all. What will it be Tullius? Will you take me inside the citadel and bargain with me, or do you prefer to live in a constant state of readiness and uncertainty not knowing from where and when my warriors will take their vengeance on you and your legionnaires. You are exposed here, and winter is coming. You will be isolated. Remember what happened to those Romans at the Teutonberg Forest? You need me alive!
 
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Barbaria1 said:
I am near the end now. I lack the strength and the will to push up with my legs again. I hang listless, hoping for death. But wait, he offers me one last way out. I am reminded that I still have something he wants dearly. Perhaps I can still turn the tables on Tullius. I tell him that if he wants to know the answer to his question he must take me down, give me water and dress my wounds. Otherwise the answer to his question will die with me. My way or no way at all. What will it be Tullius? Will you take me inside the citadel and bargain with me, or will you prefer to live in a constant state of readiness and uncertainty not knowing from where and when my warriors will take their vengeance on you and your legionnaires. You are exposed here, and winter is coming. You will be isolated. Remember what happened to those Romans at the Teutonberg Forest? You need me alive!
Click to expand...
Good thinking Barb, it just might work.
 
shastar said:
Tullius did not promise her that she would keep her loincloth until the end. As a General, in front of his men, he has to obey the law. I think he sincerely believes he has done his best to satisfy the Queen's request. Yes, he's a twisted mind, I know... :doh: :p
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Yes, the tension between Marcus and Tullius is palpable. The former is a ruthless and ambitious bastard. Tullius is an honorsbke man, determined to lead by example, but with a conscience. I must exploit their differences and rivalry if I possibly can. Even if Tullius grants my request and saves me from dying on this cross, I must be wary of Marcus who still believes that inflicted pain is the most useful way to exact needed information. I must do everything I can to remain under Tullius' protection.
 
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