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The Girl With No Name

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I was suffering a lot and yet I was still excited. While I was fidgeting and dancing, I clenched my thighs and aroused myself. Anja was standing directly in front of the cross looking up at me. I love you, love you Anja, pale, shy little Anja. Do you know I had a little crush on you all those years? That I was imagining the wildest things for you? Goddess, if I’d known what you were feeling about me! When we’re back home, can we share it? I can call, or come to the stables. You work there every other weekend to earn some pocket money, because your parents are tight with their money. I'll meet you there, Anja.

My excitement grew. I saw myself doing stuff with Anja - beautiful things, wild things. I saw Anja naked and handcuffed in front of me. I saw Anja with a whip in her hand, while I was suspended by my wrists, I saw her swinging the whip. I saw Anja dancing under the whip. I saw Anja and me together on the cross.

Then the scene changed. Dorothea was kneeling in the workshop in front of me. Now I had a real recollection, something that had really happened. "Punish me, Lisette!" was Doro’s humble plea, "Punish me!" She’d had to lie between the horizontal bars on her back, I’d tied her hands above her head and spread her legs as far as they could go, I’d pulled the ropes to fix her tight. Then I’d taken the leather strap with a wooden handle. I hadn’t given her any gag, I wanted to hear her screaming. I’d hit her between the legs. O Goddess! The clap of the leather on her bare skin! Only to remember thesound of excited me even more, I squirmed with all my might on the cross. Beating her between the legs, slowly and only slightly. Then firmer, harder, Doro’s first cry - surprised, almost angry, somehow defiant. Cry all you like, cousin! I’d hit her solidly, much sharper, until she started to scream, to howl properly. She’d complained of intense pain and squirmed desperately in her bonds, I’d let her suffer, I’d given her more pain. She’d reared up and cummed with a scream. And now I felt that last one down there, I cummed again on the cross. It was commented upon out loud. The harpies looked grim, they begrudged me my orgasm.

There were now a lot of people down there, almost all of them had gathered around to witness as I collapsed. The pain was really bad, I was groaning, gasping, breathing irregularly. As always, I was longing to lose the fight – in front of all these people. They were talking shamelessly about my appearance, about my pelvis, my ass, my breasts.

"She’s got pretty little tits, just right." "Beautiful pink nipples." "They are." "That comes from pain." "Come’s the right word, but that wasn’t pain, that just happened." "Yes, it was pain, it’s horny pain, that's why she cummed."

"Wonderful slender legs, like a filly." "Pretty feet, small and slim, like a real princess." "I bet they like to walk barefoot."

In particular, some of the women were looking very intensely and commented without inhibitions on my body, they seemed to have some hidden lesbian tendencies. Others, such as the slightly older ones, were just sadistic and enjoyed looking at my torment.

I could not escape their gaze. The cross offered me freely, exposed and naked. I felt pain and anguish. I felt infinite shame. I felt joy and pride and I felt new excitement. It was a crazy cocktail of feelings. I was incredibly lucky to have promised in the morning to allow them to crucify me. I was suffering for all these people, I suffering before their eyes, it excited me beyond measure. I danced on wood. I gave everything. My hearing was sharpened unnaturally, I kept catching odd sentences.

"Unbelievable! Look at her! She doesn’t cry! She suffering like a bitch, you can see it, but still she doesn’t howl."

"She's been more than four hours on the cross!" Aha! I noted that, more than four hours. Thank you my lady.

"Man! Is this class?! What a sight! Gorgeous!" "She’s so nice I could fall in love with her. See how she’s sweating!" "She’s giving everything, she’s suffering unimaginable pain." "Isn’t she just! How beautiful!"

I was a little quieter. I realized how time was passing, soon I’d lose the battle and collapse. Soon. I was only being granted a little bit of rest before it really started.

"Water," I asked in a shaky voice. "Please, I'm thirsty."

Someone pushed a small step-ladder in front of the cross. The Japanese woman climbed up to me and let me drink from a glass of water.

"Thank you," I breathed.

"Booootiful girl!" she said and smiled at me. Then she got back down to the floor and I was alone with the cross and the pain.
 
I was suffering a lot and yet I was still excited. While I was fidgeting and dancing, I clenched my thighs and aroused myself. Anja was standing directly in front of the cross looking up at me. I love you, love you Anja, pale, shy little Anja. Do you know I had a little crush on you all those years? That I was imagining the wildest things for you? Goddess, if I’d known what you were feeling about me! When we’re back home, can we share it? I can call, or come to the stables. You work there every other weekend to earn some pocket money, because your parents are tight with their money. I'll meet you there, Anja.

My excitement grew. I saw myself doing stuff with Anja - beautiful things, wild things. I saw Anja naked and handcuffed in front of me. I saw Anja with a whip in her hand, while I was suspended by my wrists, I saw her swinging the whip. I saw Anja dancing under the whip. I saw Anja and me together on the cross.

Then the scene changed. Dorothea was kneeling in the workshop in front of me. Now I had a real recollection, something that had really happened. "Punish me, Lisette!" was Doro’s humble plea, "Punish me!" She’d had to lie between the horizontal bars on her back, I’d tied her hands above her head and spread her legs as far as they could go, I’d pulled the ropes to fix her tight. Then I’d taken the leather strap with a wooden handle. I hadn’t given her any gag, I wanted to hear her screaming. I’d hit her between the legs. O Goddess! The clap of the leather on her bare skin! Only to remember thesound of excited me even more, I squirmed with all my might on the cross. Beating her between the legs, slowly and only slightly. Then firmer, harder, Doro’s first cry - surprised, almost angry, somehow defiant. Cry all you like, cousin! I’d hit her solidly, much sharper, until she started to scream, to howl properly. She’d complained of intense pain and squirmed desperately in her bonds, I’d let her suffer, I’d given her more pain. She’d reared up and cummed with a scream. And now I felt that last one down there, I cummed again on the cross. It was commented upon out loud. The harpies looked grim, they begrudged me my orgasm.

There were now a lot of people down there, almost all of them had gathered around to witness as I collapsed. The pain was really bad, I was groaning, gasping, breathing irregularly. As always, I was longing to lose the fight – in front of all these people. They were talking shamelessly about my appearance, about my pelvis, my ass, my breasts.

"She’s got pretty little tits, just right." "Beautiful pink nipples." "They are." "That comes from pain." "Come’s the right word, but that wasn’t pain, that just happened." "Yes, it was pain, it’s horny pain, that's why she cummed."

"Wonderful slender legs, like a filly." "Pretty feet, small and slim, like a real princess." "I bet they like to walk barefoot."

In particular, some of the women were looking very intensely and commented without inhibitions on my body, they seemed to have some hidden lesbian tendencies. Others, such as the slightly older ones, were just sadistic and enjoyed looking at my torment.

I could not escape their gaze. The cross offered me freely, exposed and naked. I felt pain and anguish. I felt infinite shame. I felt joy and pride and I felt new excitement. It was a crazy cocktail of feelings. I was incredibly lucky to have promised in the morning to allow them to crucify me. I was suffering for all these people, I suffering before their eyes, it excited me beyond measure. I danced on wood. I gave everything. My hearing was sharpened unnaturally, I kept catching odd sentences.

"Unbelievable! Look at her! She doesn’t cry! She suffering like a bitch, you can see it, but still she doesn’t howl."

"She's been more than four hours on the cross!" Aha! I noted that, more than four hours. Thank you my lady.

"Man! Is this class?! What a sight! Gorgeous!" "She’s so nice I could fall in love with her. See how she’s sweating!" "She’s giving everything, she’s suffering unimaginable pain." "Isn’t she just! How beautiful!"

I was a little quieter. I realized how time was passing, soon I’d lose the battle and collapse. Soon. I was only being granted a little bit of rest before it really started.

"Water," I asked in a shaky voice. "Please, I'm thirsty."

Someone pushed a small step-ladder in front of the cross. The Japanese woman climbed up to me and let me drink from a glass of water.

"Thank you," I breathed.

"Booootiful girl!" she said and smiled at me. Then she got back down to the floor and I was alone with the cross and the pain.

Love the commentary from the watchers!
 
The final collapse came upon me with giant strides, it came quickly and mercilessly. All my will, all my fighting spirit, crumbled away easily. I couldn’t pull myself up, when I tensed my arms they felt like knotty wood, a burning strain, absolutely unbearable. The maddening pain in my muscles tripled within a single second. I jerked wildly, tears came into my eyes and then I started sobbing out loud.

"Oh, she’s crying!"

"Look how she’s crying, the poor little thing!"

"Por little thing? She’s doing it ‘cos she want to, she’s loving the pain."

"She's fine."

"She's gorgeous."

"Simply wonderful."

It was over. All my pride was gone, I was just feeling horrible pain, I only wanted to be freed. I cried and cried. I squirmed. I pleaded with the people to let me down. I was deeply humiliated, but I didn’t not care, I just wanted it to stop, I just wanted to get rid of this unbearable pain. Please let me, oh please! I begged and pleaded without ceasing.

They were watching, taking it all in, they were smiling, they were happy, they were delighted. Hard women’s eyes were full of spiteful joy, sadistic pleasure - go on, cry, bitch! Now you’re getting it! Just howl, that’s beautiful, bitch! Cunt!

Anja was looking at me, wide-eyed, her eyes spoke of so much understanding. I yelled through my sore throat. Now the pressure on my bladder was becoming quite unbearable, I’d been feeling it, but I’d ignored it bravely for quite a while, I wasn’t going to pee in front of all these people! Especially not in front of these spiteful, sadistic witches! No! Never!

However, I wasn’t going to be spared from this degradation. I danced panting on the cross, sobbing in squalls and desperately pressing my legs together to stop it. I don’t want to, please not before those nasty women! Please, no! It’s so humiliating! Please, my cross, please spare me this!

As if the cross had ever listened to me! It held me tight, immovably. You'll do it, Lisette said it in deep, quiet, harsh voice, you’re going to pee in front of all these people. It will squirt out of you, you’re going to piss like a carthorse. I was squirming desperately, trying to ignore it. Maybe the pressure would subside. It didn’t let up, it just grew stronger. Then nature overcame my bitter resistance. Just as I jolted with a loud cry of pain, my sluice-gates were opened and it was bubbling hot out of my pussy. It sprayed in a wide arc out into the hall and splattered onto the parquet floor.

"She’s peeing!"

"She’s pissing, Look out! "

"A beautiful golden shower!"

"A pee fountain, wonderful!! What a sight. "

"She’s ashamed, can’t you see it? "

"And how! Cool!"

It was bubbling endlessly out of me. I was utterly, abysmally ashamed of myself. I was having to do it before the eyes of these sadistic women. It went on and on. They watched it carefully. They saw everything. How many litres can a well filled bladder hold? Five? Ten? A hundred? It splashed wildly out of me. It went on and on with no end. Pain and shame filled me from head to toe, while I pissed like I’ve never doen before, it just wouldn’t stop.

But the never-ending stream eventually became thinner, and then dried down to a trickle, I couldn’t believe it at first, I’d begun to believe I was going to go on peeing for hours, until my time on the cross wasup . Down below me, there was a considerable puddle on the hardwood floor. Goddess! Had I held all that inside me?! And everybody could see it, they’d all witnessed how I did it. Goddess!
 
It was bubbling endlessly out of me. I was utterly, abysmally ashamed of myself. I was having to do it before the eyes of these sadistic women.
Pp has missed Lisette over the last two days and is very happy to find her this morning. He wonders why the women are commenting more on her struggles and why she sees and hears the sadistic women and not the men who also watch her pain and humiliation.
 
The final collapse came upon me with giant strides, it came quickly and mercilessly. All my will, all my fighting spirit, crumbled away easily. I couldn’t pull myself up, when I tensed my arms they felt like knotty wood, a burning strain, absolutely unbearable. The maddening pain in my muscles tripled within a single second. I jerked wildly, tears came into my eyes and then I started sobbing out loud.

"Oh, she’s crying!"

"Look how she’s crying, the poor little thing!"

"Por little thing? She’s doing it ‘cos she want to, she’s loving the pain."

"She's fine."

"She's gorgeous."

"Simply wonderful."

It was over. All my pride was gone, I was just feeling horrible pain, I only wanted to be freed. I cried and cried. I squirmed. I pleaded with the people to let me down. I was deeply humiliated, but I didn’t not care, I just wanted it to stop, I just wanted to get rid of this unbearable pain. Please let me, oh please! I begged and pleaded without ceasing.

They were watching, taking it all in, they were smiling, they were happy, they were delighted. Hard women’s eyes were full of spiteful joy, sadistic pleasure - go on, cry, bitch! Now you’re getting it! Just howl, that’s beautiful, bitch! Cunt!

Anja was looking at me, wide-eyed, her eyes spoke of so much understanding. I yelled through my sore throat. Now the pressure on my bladder was becoming quite unbearable, I’d been feeling it, but I’d ignored it bravely for quite a while, I wasn’t going to pee in front of all these people! Especially not in front of these spiteful, sadistic witches! No! Never!

However, I wasn’t going to be spared from this degradation. I danced panting on the cross, sobbing in squalls and desperately pressing my legs together to stop it. I don’t want to, please not before those nasty women! Please, no! It’s so humiliating! Please, my cross, please spare me this!

As if the cross had ever listened to me! It held me tight, immovably. You'll do it, Lisette said it in deep, quiet, harsh voice, you’re going to pee in front of all these people. It will squirt out of you, you’re going to piss like a carthorse. I was squirming desperately, trying to ignore it. Maybe the pressure would subside. It didn’t let up, it just grew stronger. Then nature overcame my bitter resistance. Just as I jolted with a loud cry of pain, my sluice-gates were opened and it was bubbling hot out of my pussy. It sprayed in a wide arc out into the hall and splattered onto the parquet floor.

"She’s peeing!"

"She’s pissing, Look out! "

"A beautiful golden shower!"

"A pee fountain, wonderful!! What a sight. "

"She’s ashamed, can’t you see it? "

"And how! Cool!"

It was bubbling endlessly out of me. I was utterly, abysmally ashamed of myself. I was having to do it before the eyes of these sadistic women. It went on and on. They watched it carefully. They saw everything. How many litres can a well filled bladder hold? Five? Ten? A hundred? It splashed wildly out of me. It went on and on with no end. Pain and shame filled me from head to toe, while I pissed like I’ve never doen before, it just wouldn’t stop.

But the never-ending stream eventually became thinner, and then dried down to a trickle, I couldn’t believe it at first, I’d begun to believe I was going to go on peeing for hours, until my time on the cross wasup . Down below me, there was a considerable puddle on the hardwood floor. Goddess! Had I held all that inside me?! And everybody could see it, they’d all witnessed how I did it. Goddess!

"A beautiful golden shower"...DP is going to love this one. ;):rolleyes:
 
I was vaguely aware of someone approaching with a bucket and mop and swabbing up. Mr. Pain had got me back in his terrible claws, I was forcing myself, screaming, against the wood, I was sweating like a racehorse. Thick drops of sweat were welling up on my forehead and running down my face, some into my eyes, they were burning like acid. Again I began to plead and beg, I cried and cried. I promised the people down there everything if they’d only let me down. Everything, absolutely everything, they could do to me, tie me up and fuck me, I’ll submit, do it! But please let me down! Please, please! I’m deeply humiliated, the spiteful women are watching and listening, full of sadistic glee, theyre loving it, seeing me like this. You’re getting just what you deserve, bitch! Oh yes, you’re getting your rightful reward!

I gazed into the eyes of these sadists, helpless, and I just pleaded with them as fervently as everyone else, I was no longer ashamed to be begging them loudly for mercy, I’d lost my last scrap of self-respect, there was no pride left in me, only pain, I was living in an entire universe of pain.

It passed over. I was amazed. Terrible though it was, it didn’t go on for ever, it came and went. I almost had to laugh. Oh, I still had pain, and not slightly, but I was quiet, Mr. Pain had conquered me completely, every corner of my body he now occupied, I had nothing, only pain. But I was silent, hanging limp and exhausted on the cross.

My mouth was dry. I asked in a whisper for something to drink. Anja gave it to me. Dear, dear Anja! She came up to me and gave me some orange juice diluted with mineral water. I looked at her full of humility and gratitude, her perspiring face, her wide-open eyes. She let me drink, and looked me in the eyes the whole time. Then her face was next to mine.

"I didn’t want to admit it to you, Lisette," she whispered almost inaudibly, "but you're unbelievable. I want it too, Lisette! Please! Call me when you're back home, or come to the stables, okay?"

"Okay," I whispered back, "I'll call you, Anja"

We smiled at each other, we share a secret, a sweet secret. Down below, she turned her back to the others and gazed admiringly at me, she worshipped me. She longed to be in my place - I knew that now for sure. Then you’d have to suffer so much, Anja, you wouldn’t believe how much I’m suffering, it’s unbearable - and yet I endure it. The terrible pain is in me, all through me, I’d give anything to get free. But I can do nothing but accept it. I love it, Anja, really!
 
The terrible pain is in me, all through me, I’d give anything to get free. But I can do nothing but accept it. I love it, Anja, really!
Why Pp looks for Lisette whenever he can visit.
 

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For a while, I fell quiet on the cross. There was no real recovery, I was just powerless. Mr. Pain never left me for a second, he was always with me, in me, there was never a breath without him. I slumped in the ropes, then I pressed myself up again. It just brought me new defeats, the cross overwhelmed me. I squirmed, sobbing, on timber. I cried. I screamed in agony and despair, again and again.

I was deeply humiliated, I begged and pleaded, I promised everyone everything. I saw the excitement in the eyes of the sadistic women when I in my pain, I offered to satisfy them with my mouth. Let me down, oh please let me down, just ten minutes, I heard myself sobbing.You can bind my arms stretched out, and tie my feet together behind the upright with my back to it, then you can come and I'll lick you and give you delight. Please bind me like that so I can do it for you! Please, please! They looked at me and drank in my stammering words like sweet nectar, they were feasting on my pain.

I howled, I shouted, I climbed to the highest peak, to the stratosphere of agony, squirming in ecstasies of pain against the wood. I peed a second time. This time I wasn’t ashamed, I had no strength left, I felt no embarrassment, the cross had taken all that from me, I just let it dribble.

The cross had taken everything from me, it had taken my clothes, it had taken my liberty, it had taken my strength, it had taken my pride, it had taken my will, it had even taken my shame, it had taken everything. Only the pain remained to me, the monstrous pain that filled me completely.

Deprived of my will, I hung on the cross. I was without will, but not emptied, I was filled with humility and devotion, I was filled with passion and with pain - endless torment. I felt the agony. I was the punishment, the agony and I were one. I’d been carried far beyond my limits.

With my unnaturally sharpened ear I heard a whisper down there, "It’s madness, how can she endure it! Over seven hours! She’s demented!"

Over seven hours? Perhaps three-quarters of an hour left for me. Yes, all right, I shall endure it, I have to, yes, I can - yes, yes, I can.

I thought of the holiday in New Zealand which was in prospect for Dorothea and me. I thought of home, where I’d meet Anja Haug. I’ll buy a car and visit Doro more often. Perhaps there’d be more performances. Crazy? Yes crazy, but I already am! Three quarters of an hour, perhaps ....

I stretched up, trembling. My mouth was half-open, I was sweating, I was suffering - gladly suffering. Tears came into my eyes, they ran down my cheeks - this time they were tears ofsalvation, I’d done it, I’d become completely at one with the pain, I’d given up everything. I didn’t resist any longer, I accepted it all.

I raised my head and looked at each of the people down there, one by one. They were standing still, no-one spoke a word, they were silent, waiting...

"Thanks," I said aloud to them, "thank you. Thank you for allowing me to experience this today, I thank you with all my heart."

Down there was no longer any hateful joy in the sadists’ eyes, no cruelty and no lust, they looked at me like a little child who’d recited a beautiful poem. Then they clapped, quietly, discreetly, sincerely. In their eyes there only shone absolute admiration. I loved them, I’d suffered for them, I'd really enjoyed doing that, I felt happy.

I dropped my head on my chest and let go. I accepted the pain as harmless. I didn’t know what the future would bring, I didn’t know if I’d be able to experience such a thing ever again, but in that moment I was happy to have endured it, endured what I had to endure. I had nothing more - only the pain and the happiness. I was without power. I was without pride. I was without shame. I was without clothes. I was without freedom. I was without a name. Nobody down there knew what I was called, the only two who knew my name saw in me only what all the other people in the castle hall were seeing.

I had arrived. I had climbed the highest peaks.

I had done it.

I was happy.

I was the girl with no name.


THE END
 
Now it's time to say goodbye to Lisette and Doro. Even the most beautiful stories go to the end times. Perhaps Sassi writes so again something.

My respect for the hard work and perseverance with which Eulalia this translation has pulled through.

The book is not quite ready yet. I'd favor to make "Mary on the Cross" part of the book.

Agreed?

Madiosi
 
Phew! By chance, my phone rang just as I finished,
I've been chatting with a friend
so my 'afterword' comes belatedly.

I'm seriously wondering how some of my friends here will cope with the trauma of Lisette-withdrawal!
It's quite a wrenching moment, even for me - I feel almost like Lisette herself.
It's been demanding, mentally and emotionally, a wonderful task,
I'm glad I undertook it, and I'm very grateful for the enthusiasm
(as well as 'likes' and encouraging messages)
of those who've followed the story.

Yes, there is the shortish story by Elf-Bride, 'Mary on the Cross',
I certainly shall turn to that. But just now I think I need a bit of a rest.​
 
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I'm seriously wondering how some of my friends here will cope with the trauma of Lisette-withdrawal!
Pp is one who will take a little while to overcome Lisette-withdrawal made a little worse by Doro-withdrawal as well.

He has really enjoyed the journey with both the young women Eulalia, and he does plan on going back when he has a break from work and travel and reading each chapter with madiosi's images together.
Thank you!
 
Phew! By chance, my phone rang just as I finished,
I've been chatting with a friend
so my 'afterword' comes belatedly.

I'm seriously wondering how some of my friends here will cope with the trauma of Lisette-withdrawal!
It's quite a wrenching moment, even for me - I feel almost like Lisette herself.
It's been demanding, mentally and emotionally, a wonderful task,
I'm glad I undertook it, and I'm very grateful for the enthusiasm
(as well as 'likes' and encouraging messages)
of those who've followed the story.

Yes, there is the shortish story by Elf-Bride, 'Mary on the Cross',
I certainly shall turn to that. But just now I think I need a bit of a rest.​
Thanks Eulalia for this wonderfull story. I enjoyed so much these daily meetings with your powerfull imagination and great words and descriptions. I recommand a few walks in your wonderfull forest . This will give you some rest and give you new strenghts . The forest is very erotic ... quit but dangerous too .Animals , mens ... and so many things to be attached and flogged. Naked you will feel this even more ... try it .
 
For a while, I fell quiet on the cross. There was no real recovery, I was just powerless. Mr. Pain never left me for a second, he was always with me, in me, there was never a breath without him. I slumped in the ropes, then I pressed myself up again. It just brought me new defeats, the cross overwhelmed me. I squirmed, sobbing, on timber. I cried. I screamed in agony and despair, again and again.

I was deeply humiliated, I begged and pleaded, I promised everyone everything. I saw the excitement in the eyes of the sadistic women when I in my pain, I offered to satisfy them with my mouth. Let me down, oh please let me down, just ten minutes, I heard myself sobbing.You can bind my arms stretched out, and tie my feet together behind the upright with my back to it, then you can come and I'll lick you and give you delight. Please bind me like that so I can do it for you! Please, please! They looked at me and drank in my stammering words like sweet nectar, they were feasting on my pain.

I howled, I shouted, I climbed to the highest peak, to the stratosphere of agony, squirming in ecstasies of pain against the wood. I peed a second time. This time I wasn’t ashamed, I had no strength left, I felt no embarrassment, the cross had taken all that from me, I just let it dribble.

The cross had taken everything from me, it had taken my clothes, it had taken my liberty, it had taken my strength, it had taken my pride, it had taken my will, it had even taken my shame, it had taken everything. Only the pain remained to me, the monstrous pain that filled me completely.

Deprived of my will, I hung on the cross. I was without will, but not emptied, I was filled with humility and devotion, I was filled with passion and with pain - endless torment. I felt the agony. I was the punishment, the agony and I were one. I’d been carried far beyond my limits.

With my unnaturally sharpened ear I heard a whisper down there, "It’s madness, how can she endure it! Over seven hours! She’s demented!"

Over seven hours? Perhaps three-quarters of an hour left for me. Yes, all right, I shall endure it, I have to, yes, I can - yes, yes, I can.

I thought of the holiday in New Zealand which was in prospect for Dorothea and me. I thought of home, where I’d meet Anja Haug. I’ll buy a car and visit Doro more often. Perhaps there’d be more performances. Crazy? Yes crazy, but I already am! Three quarters of an hour, perhaps ....

I stretched up, trembling. My mouth was half-open, I was sweating, I was suffering - gladly suffering. Tears came into my eyes, they ran down my cheeks - this time they were tears ofsalvation, I’d done it, I’d become completely at one with the pain, I’d given up everything. I didn’t resist any longer, I accepted it all.

I raised my head and looked at each of the people down there, one by one. They were standing still, no-one spoke a word, they were silent, waiting...

"Thanks," I said aloud to them, "thank you. Thank you for allowing me to experience this today, I thank you with all my heart."

Down there was no longer any hateful joy in the sadists’ eyes, no cruelty and no lust, they looked at me like a little child who’d recited a beautiful poem. Then they clapped, quietly, discreetly, sincerely. In their eyes there only shone absolute admiration. I loved them, I’d suffered for them, I'd really enjoyed doing that, I felt happy.

I dropped my head on my chest and let go. I accepted the pain as harmless. I didn’t know what the future would bring, I didn’t know if I’d be able to experience such a thing ever again, but in that moment I was happy to have endured it, endured what I had to endure. I had nothing more - only the pain and the happiness. I was without power. I was without pride. I was without shame. I was without clothes. I was without freedom. I was without a name. Nobody down there knew what I was called, the only two who knew my name saw in me only what all the other people in the castle hall were seeing.

I had arrived. I had climbed the highest peaks.

I had done it.

I was happy.

I was the girl with no name.


THE END

Bravo!!! What a ride! I will miss this.

flower3
 
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