Rosie’s Crucifixion- a short story
Part one
At the University of the Virgin Martyrs there was the annual Rite of Spring. Female students would compete to be crucified at the festival. Even though they would have to be publicly presented naked before the judges and their fellow students and one would be selected to be mounted to a cross and raised to hang naked before faculty and friends. There was never a shortage of contestants.
Why should there be? It was a higher honor to be selected to be crucified at the festival than being picked homecoming queen!
When Rosie was crowned the wreath that signaled she was selected she could not wait to call her friends!!!
Usually the woman would be brought to her Golgotha to be crucified for three hours but because it was the 50th anniversary of first spring crux she would carry her own cross to the hill where she would be mounted and hang crucified for twelve hours! More women than ever had entered the contest!
Rosie dragged her cross up the hill wearing a crown of thorns that the thorns would have ripped her flesh were removed. That did not make the cross any lighter or easier to pull up the hill.
When Rosie got to the site of her crucifixion she dropped the cross on the ground. She was covered in sweat from the work of carrying the cross. They came towards her to place her on the cross but she strongly protested “NO, I will place myself!”
She lowered herself to the cross she had carried up the hill. She stretched out stipe and raised her arm out to offer them to the cross.
In moments she was bound to the cross from which she would hang for twelve hours.
She had time to consider the ordeal facing her while some of the male students dug the hole the cross would be placed in. The men would dig and look over at her lying bound to the cross and make remarks such as “I can’t wait to see her dance” and “those tits will look fine shaking on her chest.”
It took them half an hour to dig the hole but she wouldn’t be raised for another half hour until it was noon. She looked at her bound wrists. Her nose itched but it would be more than twelve hours before she could do anything about it. ‘This could be more difficult than I thought it would be’ she thought.
No one remembers when the next thing started but it had become sort tradition at the spring festival. Rosie’s roommate walked up to her, looked down at her bound body, then turned and addressed the crowd. She said “Rosanne Smith it a friend of mine. Can we not show her mercy?”
“NO!” came the thunderous reply.
“Can you not spare her this ordeal?”
One yelled “Crucify her!” which quickly became a chant. Her roommate straddled the cross, raised her dress, then said “Sorry Rosie, you are screwed!”
She then proceeded to piss on Rosie’s tits, neck and chin. She turned to the crowd and said “I wash myself of this; do with her as you will!”
The she leaned down and whispered “Make it, Rosie, and I’ll bathe you when you are down.”
When the campus clock tower began to toll the noon hour Rosie was raised with her cross. The cross dropped into the hole and Rosie was both winded and stunned when it stopped. The pain was incredible. She watched in detached silence as wedges were hammered in next to the stipe. The cross rocked side to side and back and forth as the wedges slowly righted and steadied it. Rosie watched them shovel dirt around the stipe and wedges.
As she caught her breath she looked out at the crowd. As a senior she had been to three spring festivals and knew that from anywhere back to the vendor midway more than 200 yards away she could be seen. Even though she had dragged her cross through the crowd the ordeal distracted her from the people looking at her naked body. But hanging from her cross she could see the whole crowd looking at her there were hundreds of smartphones taking pictures of her at any one time in addition to the thousands of pairs of eyes on her. Even after having been to the other festivals she had not fathomed the size of the crowd when she had been a part of it.
A photographer came near the cross and asked if he could take pictures of her. Rosie managed a smile and said “I don’t see how I can stop you.”
He replied “You could say ‘no’ and I would not.”
“You would be the only one not taking pictures” Rosie observed. “But it is kind of you to ask. You are a true gentleman. Please feel free to take pictures.”
As he snapped pictures he said “That is something I do not remember ever being called.”
She pushed up and smiled at him and said “I’d like to see the pictures when this is over.”
He wrote down her e-mail address and she asked his name. He told her his name but told her the e-mail would appear as ‘Racing Rodent’. He said he would like to photograph her crucified in a studio setting. Rosie said she’d let him know after her current ordeal was over…
Tree
Part one
At the University of the Virgin Martyrs there was the annual Rite of Spring. Female students would compete to be crucified at the festival. Even though they would have to be publicly presented naked before the judges and their fellow students and one would be selected to be mounted to a cross and raised to hang naked before faculty and friends. There was never a shortage of contestants.
Why should there be? It was a higher honor to be selected to be crucified at the festival than being picked homecoming queen!
When Rosie was crowned the wreath that signaled she was selected she could not wait to call her friends!!!
Usually the woman would be brought to her Golgotha to be crucified for three hours but because it was the 50th anniversary of first spring crux she would carry her own cross to the hill where she would be mounted and hang crucified for twelve hours! More women than ever had entered the contest!
Rosie dragged her cross up the hill wearing a crown of thorns that the thorns would have ripped her flesh were removed. That did not make the cross any lighter or easier to pull up the hill.
When Rosie got to the site of her crucifixion she dropped the cross on the ground. She was covered in sweat from the work of carrying the cross. They came towards her to place her on the cross but she strongly protested “NO, I will place myself!”
She lowered herself to the cross she had carried up the hill. She stretched out stipe and raised her arm out to offer them to the cross.
In moments she was bound to the cross from which she would hang for twelve hours.
She had time to consider the ordeal facing her while some of the male students dug the hole the cross would be placed in. The men would dig and look over at her lying bound to the cross and make remarks such as “I can’t wait to see her dance” and “those tits will look fine shaking on her chest.”
It took them half an hour to dig the hole but she wouldn’t be raised for another half hour until it was noon. She looked at her bound wrists. Her nose itched but it would be more than twelve hours before she could do anything about it. ‘This could be more difficult than I thought it would be’ she thought.
No one remembers when the next thing started but it had become sort tradition at the spring festival. Rosie’s roommate walked up to her, looked down at her bound body, then turned and addressed the crowd. She said “Rosanne Smith it a friend of mine. Can we not show her mercy?”
“NO!” came the thunderous reply.
“Can you not spare her this ordeal?”
One yelled “Crucify her!” which quickly became a chant. Her roommate straddled the cross, raised her dress, then said “Sorry Rosie, you are screwed!”
She then proceeded to piss on Rosie’s tits, neck and chin. She turned to the crowd and said “I wash myself of this; do with her as you will!”
The she leaned down and whispered “Make it, Rosie, and I’ll bathe you when you are down.”
When the campus clock tower began to toll the noon hour Rosie was raised with her cross. The cross dropped into the hole and Rosie was both winded and stunned when it stopped. The pain was incredible. She watched in detached silence as wedges were hammered in next to the stipe. The cross rocked side to side and back and forth as the wedges slowly righted and steadied it. Rosie watched them shovel dirt around the stipe and wedges.
As she caught her breath she looked out at the crowd. As a senior she had been to three spring festivals and knew that from anywhere back to the vendor midway more than 200 yards away she could be seen. Even though she had dragged her cross through the crowd the ordeal distracted her from the people looking at her naked body. But hanging from her cross she could see the whole crowd looking at her there were hundreds of smartphones taking pictures of her at any one time in addition to the thousands of pairs of eyes on her. Even after having been to the other festivals she had not fathomed the size of the crowd when she had been a part of it.
A photographer came near the cross and asked if he could take pictures of her. Rosie managed a smile and said “I don’t see how I can stop you.”
He replied “You could say ‘no’ and I would not.”
“You would be the only one not taking pictures” Rosie observed. “But it is kind of you to ask. You are a true gentleman. Please feel free to take pictures.”
As he snapped pictures he said “That is something I do not remember ever being called.”
She pushed up and smiled at him and said “I’d like to see the pictures when this is over.”
He wrote down her e-mail address and she asked his name. He told her his name but told her the e-mail would appear as ‘Racing Rodent’. He said he would like to photograph her crucified in a studio setting. Rosie said she’d let him know after her current ordeal was over…
Tree
