The people running the University of the Virgin Martyrs knew to milk the crucifixion of Barb, Siss, and Roxie. On Monday, May 4, the Spring Festival opened at 11 AM. Usually the crowd was sparse until late afternoon but when it was announced that the women would carry their crosses the ten blocks down Grand Avenue where the festival would be held starting at noon even though the women would not be crucified and raised until 6:30 that evening. To keep the interest up instead of sending the three women together the three women were sent down the street one at a time through the packed boulevard. Siss had been sent first through the crowd.
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It would take her more than an hour to cover the quarter mile…
I had often wondered what it would be like to be condemned to the cross and forced to carry it to the site of my execution. In fact that night at Barb’s house after we did the mock arrest of Roxie…
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…and before we went to bed I walked by a mirror and posed as if I was carrying a cross.
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I wondered how Roxie felt that although she did not the date of her crucifixion the metal tag that hung from her labia was a constant reminder she was on borrowed time. Little did I know later that night I would be arrested and later condemned to die on the cross.
Now I drag my cross through the throngs. Officials and police are doing their best to keep them back but in the first few blocks I have been groped and spat on more than I had ever been in my whole life. Progress is slow as wedges of policemen have to part the crowd so I can carry the cross down the ten block journey.
We weren’t served breakfast this morning. I drag this cross past vendors cooking hotdogs, hamburgers, gyros… I have to stop thinking of food.
When I started this journey I thought despite the size of the cross the Messaline’s Premium French Crucifixion Wood™ wasn’t that heavy but after dragging it only half the distance it was getting heavier as it digs into my shoulder. The base of the stipe telegraphed every imperfection of the road up its length and into my flesh.
I ask one of the officers if he could help me change shoulders the cross sits on. He tells me “I am doing crowd control and ain’t touching it, Lady.” That’s the nicest thing I have been called in a while. With nothing else to do I have counted the blocks as I walk to the site. I know I have to carry it ten blocks. As I pass the fourth cross street I see a bank that has a display that flashes time and temperate. It says ’12:34’ and ‘74°F’. I’m sweating like it is 100! At block five I hear someone calling my name.
“Siss… Siss… Little Siss… Look up hear… Smile…”
It is Messa and she has perch above the crowd and takes pictures of me. She calls down and says “Siss, you make my wood look so beautiful!!!”
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I am so happy she likes how her cross wood looks…
Siss
Tree
I do know what it feels like to be tagged. With every step I take the metal tag sways and slap my thighs. Sometimes it sticks as the University of the Virgin Martyrs did not want us to have our ‘no virgin’ fuck required by the IMF to be performed before the festival crowd so Roxie, Barb, and I were raped before we left the building with our crosses. It is somewhat ironic it was done in a ‘family planning’ office. I drew Bull. He was as gentle as he could be considering how ‘endowed’ he is.
The last block of the walk is lined off for the media. There is no hiding from the cameras…
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You may wonder why I would carry the cross I would be nailed to and hang from to my death. I did too. But I am alive right now. I do not want to die but my body does not want to hurt any more than it has too. There are two escorts off camera that hold vicious whips; one of them is Joan Tree- she knows how to use it. My brain tells me to make her beat me senseless but my body says ‘no’…
Siss
Tree
I have to say, after viewing today's posts on this thread, that Tree deserves a lot of credit for the incredible amount of time, effort, thought and workmanship that go into what he contributes to our site. The kind of plotting, attention to detail, humor, and of course the horrors inflicted on his ever-suffering favorite victims keep us all entertained here on cf every day. We often don't take the time to say it, but it's great Tree ... don't ever stop!
Barbaria