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"The Object Lesson" Reworked

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Sexitus Bacilus

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Unfortunately, my life is very chaotic and goes through cycles of extremely hectic activity (like 80 hour weeks for months on end) and when I posted the original version of “The Object Lesson” I issued it in haste as I was approaching one of those periods and now that the dust has settled it really needs to be cleaned up. The story isn’t really going to be different than what you read before (if you read it) and if the moderators can take the original down that would actually be appreciated. This cleaned up version will be serialized, so for those reading it for the first time, I’d suggest not going to the original PDF to eliminate the spoiler aspect of the story there.
Some of my motivations…

I wanted someone like myself not a beauty queen but just a plain Jane MILF. Too many times I see the stories referring to how beautiful the women are but rarely does anyone make a normal person the object of their work. For those wondering, yes, I am Casey. So when describing her, I am describing myself and family (and no I am not posting a picture of myself).

I don’t believe anyone truly facing the cross is thinking about how sexy it is, really longs for death on the cross or has orgasms hanging there. I just don’t see how anyone in that incredible amount of pain is thinking about sex, I know I wasn’t during childbirth!

My Irish-Polish skin burns within minutes of hitting the beach/sun and so does Casey’s! Why do we see so many pictures of women hanging on the cross, for hours, in the desert and their skin is still pasty white?

Another point, don’t these women rash? Sorry but my thighs rub together and when I’m sweaty I need to use some baby oil to keep from developing a painful rash on my upper thigh when hiking. Don’t theirs in the hot beating sun, carrying a load?

So my attempt here is to describe the horror of modern crucifixion to someone just like myself exposed and embarrassed for all to see over the TV and streaming over the internet!
 
Oval Office, Monday 1 August…
“John, good to see you! Now what is this business my Attorney General wants to discuss that can’t be handled over the phone?”
“Good day Mr. President! That matter about the new Sedition and Treason Bill penalties that you wanted me to look into, we have what I believe to be a great candidate who will send the proper message!”
“Go on,” the President replied with a slight hint of a smile.
“Name is Casey Goodwell. She’s 46, married, a mother of two daughters. She was arrested last month in Beaufort, South Carolina for handing out anti-government leaflets at a rally on the grounds of the Naval Hospital.”
“Last month? Isn’t that before I signed the law into effect?”
“Yes, but as the offense was committed on a federal property during a declared state of emergency the law’s provisions allow it to be applied retroactively to the date of the state of emergency declaration, in this case to January 1st. “
“Do you have a folder on her?”
“Of course, sir!” replied, the portly Attorney General as he handed over a thick folder.
The President started leafing through the folder pausing at the leaflets, “John, these are hardly that offensive. Granted the caricature of me isn’t very flattering but don’t you think the penalty will be seen to exceed the crime?”
“I’d suggest you look at the pages under the social media tab, Mr. President.”
The President leafed through the social media pages for a few minutes with grimaces ebbing and flowing across his face. “OK John, I’ll agree that she’s not a fan of mine but when these were written we still had a 1st Amendment and free speech rights. I think the opposition will tear us apart if we use her as an example.”
“Sir, after this example the majority of the ‘opposition’ will be cowed into submission. Look at her pictures.”
“I saw she was cute when I opened the file.”
“Yes sir but please go to the photos section and you’ll see why she is perfect.”
“OK, give me a minute,” the President said as he turned to the front of the folder. After a few minutes of leafing through the pages he looked up at the Attorney General and said,
“She’s a tad chubby in the gut and hips but as you said she’s had two children. Clearly she’s petite, I’m guessing around 5 foot, maybe about 120 pounds. Her breasts are a bit saggy and one of her nipples is sort of pressed in. I can see just a bit of cellulite on her thighs and butt, just starting I presume. Personally, I don’t like short cropped hair, as I believe women should have long hair, but otherwise she looks pretty decent for a 46 year old. So John please tell me, what am I missing here? What makes her prefect?”
“You’re not missing at all, Mr. President, your assessment is spot on. Red hair, green eyes, just a little belly. She’s definitely not a beauty queen and, better yet, not an athlete. A younger and more fit woman would be seen as exploitative. So that’s exactly the point I’m making, she’s just a normal, ‘plain Jane.’ Maybe she’s a tad bit better looking than most middle aged women and with that men will find her appealing enough to watch and the women will see themselves in her and her family. The fact that she isn’t athletic works in our favor as she will only last a few hours and will have expired before people, and the news cycle, loose attention. As I said, she’s the perfect ‘object lesson.’ ”
“I see your points John. OK, you’ve sold me. Can everything be set for noon Friday? That gives us the weekend to suppress any dissent that might crop up.”
“End of the week, definitely we can do that. I’ll make sure the cable news channels cover the case and with that they will all be in position for the sentencing. Friday it is Mr. President.”
“What if the court rules against us?”
“Not an issue, please let me worry about that, Mr. President.”
“All right, if we’re done here I need to discuss the Middle East nuclear crisis with the Israeli Prime Minister. He’s threatening an independent launch on Iran if they don’t unilaterally disarm their nukes. Russia and China declared this morning that they are fully supporting Iran. Honestly, I’m not sure where we’ll be next week if we can’t diffuse this situation. You’ve taken care of your family right?”
“Yes sir, they are in a remote part of Wyoming, near Centennial, supposedly for a ‘summer vacation.’ Thank you for asking Mr. President.”
“Well hell John, the world’s falling apart in a handbasket. Make sure the ratings for your ‘event’ are good this Friday. The last thing we need is widespread domestic unrest on top of the Middle East crisis. Oh yes, and John, I don’t want anyone whipping her. I don’t want her a bloody mess before she reaches the execution site that would make things look that much more vindictive on our part. If we continue this program there will be time for that with future cases.”
“Yes sir, this will send the message we want delivered, I’m sure of it.”
 
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Friday, August 5th, 10:58 a.m.
As the rear door is opened, brilliant sunlight suddenly floods the Department of Corrections van, causing me to pull my arms to my eyes in an attempt to shield them. I can see the faded salmon pink material of my prison jumpsuit blocking most of my vision as the corrections officer begins to tug at my arm. Dropping my arms from my eyes, I feel the sweltering Low Country summer air blasting at my skin, as sweat quickly beads on my forehead.
“Let’s go princess, we don’t have all day, the court is waiting for you. It’s your big day!” the Corrections guard snarls. I’ve never seen this guard before, and he is enormous, as is the driver.
Crouching over at the waist, I stumble through the back of the van with the chain between my wrist restraints and ankle chains being pulled slowly forward. My ankle chains scrape the floorboards and get under foot causing me to stumble.
As I reach the back door the sunlight is now even brighter and the gulf between the van’s floor and pavement seems almost insurmountable. I hesitate to move forward but the guard suddenly jerks at my chain pulling me out. I quickly lose my balance, falling toward the ground, with my bad left knee hitting the burning hot pavement. I almost completely fall to the road surface but the massive guard’s firm grip on my chain swings my body and stops me from falling completely.
“Get up, bitch,” the Corrections officer shrieks at me, as he grips my right arm and begins to pull me up. I also push my knee up from the parking lot and notice a slight red stain coming through the fabric. As I flex it I feel the sharp sting of an abrasion grating against the jumpsuit’s knee.
We are in the courthouse’s fenced in area that I heard the other drivers call a ‘sally port.’ The fence is locked behind us and as I look through its links I can see tens of TV cameras pointed at me.
“Let’s go, we’re going to be late and the judge doesn’t like it when we’re late.” The driver growls at the massive corrections officer.
For the first time, I get a good look at the driver, and if anything he is even larger than the other guard. This leaves me to wonder, “What the hell do they need two huge brutes just to handle one little woman like myself? And why are all of those cameras here today?” Before I can ponder the question too long they move to either side of me and begin to direct me toward the courthouse door.
The glass doors slide apart and a blessed blast of cold, air conditioned, air sweeps over me. The contrast makes me shiver as cold air flows over sweat soaked fabric of my jumpsuit. For the first time I feel its material sticking against my breasts. “Strange, the prison laundry didn’t provide me a bra this morning?”
The hallway is a bit dark, almost a relief after the bright sunlight of the sally port, as we move toward the courtroom. The hall is filled with people who point toward me and reporters speaking into recording devices. I can hear one describing a new law but have no idea what that could possibly mean.
As we enter the courtroom, to my left is my husband and daughters. I can’t speak to them but as we walk by I wink at them and throw a little smile. For some reason Steve looks extremely concerned and Julie appears to be crying.
 
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When we reach the front of the courtroom, I move to take my position at the Defendant’s Table. As I take my seat, I lean over to Lauren, my attorney, asking, “How’s it going?”
She turns to look at me and I see deep concern, almost panic, in her face, “Casey, I honestly don’t know but I don’t think any of this is good. The Jury came back with a verdict within a half hour yesterday, but they held it for today. Usually when they hold a verdict overnight we’ll hear it first thing in the morning but they held this one until 11:15 this morning. Then on top of that, the feds are calling attention to this trial which is far out of proportion to the charges and I have NEVER seen cameras in a federal courthouse before! More than that, they have a widely advertised a special website to view live streaming of the verdict. In all honesty, in twenty-two years as an attorney, and ten of them in federal law, I have never seen anything like this!”
Now becoming truly frightened I feel my hands shake and become woozy. “What do you think it all means?”
“Casey, I really, honestly don’t know, but it all adds up to something that isn’t very good. I’ve been wracking my brain since I got here and I have a guess. They passed a new Sedition and Treason Bill while you were in holding, but that legislation postdates your charges so that doesn’t seem likely. I am concerned that a State of Emergency was in effect when you passed out those leaflets, but I don’t see a connection to this circus. I just don’t know what to make of it all but we’ll know in just a bit. Stay strong!”
“Right, damn I’m scared! This President is erratic and can do just about anything he wants.”
“Casey, as your attorney, I’m going to advise you to be very careful about what you say right now. Anything you say can be used against you, and frankly things are getting so weird I don’t want to be implicated myself.”
“Shit, that doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence right now.”
“Yeah, I know,” she replies in a shaky voice.
 
The door to the Judge’s Chambers opens with the Bailiff walking out and announcing, “All rise.” A hush comes over the courtroom and Lauren and I stand, as does everyone else in the room. I turn and look at Steve and girls in the back row where they have been restricted to sit through out the proceedings. I then gaze at my two beautiful daughters, thinking, “My God, what have I done? What have I done to them? They need a mother not some missing old woman in a prison somewhere!”
The Judge walks in, taking his seat and gaveling the court into session. Looking at the Bailiff, he orders, “Please bring in the jury.”
The Bailiff walks over, opening Jury Room door. As they file into the room I try to make eye contact with each but none will look at me, “this is bad” I ruminate.
After they have all entered the room and taken their seats the Judge asks the Jury Foreman, “Has the Jury reached a verdict?”
The Foreman replies, “We have your Honor,” and hands a paper to the Bailiff. I watch in growing disbelief as the Bailiff walks over to the Judge and hands him the paper. He reads the decision and sighs.
“Mr. Foreman, is this the verdict decided on by all twelve of your fellow jurors?”
“It is your Honor.”
“Very well. The Defendant will now rise!”
 
Lauren and I rise, but my legs feel rickety, and I feel as though I am about to throw up. It is only now that I realize that I haven’t eaten since last evening and was up with diarrhea most of the night. Not being a morning/breakfast person I really didn’t feel hungry until this point. A profound prang of fear penetrates deep into the pit of my stomach.
“Mr. Foreman, I am now going to ask you to read the verdict aloud for the record and for the courtroom to hear.”
“Yes your Honor.”
The Bailiff takes the verdict from the Judge’s hands and walks to the Foreman returning it to him. The Foreman turns slightly toward the court, but deliberately avoiding looking at our table, announces, “In the case of the United States versus Casey Goodwell, the Defendant, we the Jury find her guilty of the charge of Treason under the Federal Sedition and Treason Act.”
Pandemonium flashes through the room as the Judge pounds the gavel, loudly yelling for order.
Lauren spoke up, “Your Honor, if it pleases the Court, I’d like to request an explanation of the verdict and statue cited.”
“You may, please state your concerns.”
“Your Honor, my client’s arrest occurred prior to the signing of the bill by the President, she was in holding when the bill was passed into law. How can she be possibly be convicted of treason, or even sedition, under its provisions when the law wasn’t in effect when her crimes were committed?”
“Under the provisions of Section Five. We were under a State of Emergency at that time your client’s crime was committed and it was on Federal property. Under Section Five’s stipulations the law is retroactive to the declaration of the State of Emergency on January 1st for any and all crimes committed on federal property. If she had handed the leaflets out across the street it would have been a state and not a federal matter. So under the provisions of the law everything is in order and I have every intention of proceeding with sentencing here and now.”
Lauren’s voice was now cracking with fear, “Your Honor, it is our intention to appeal this verdict to a higher court.”
“Ms. Wilson, I’m sure you are familiar with the ‘Expedition of Justice Act” signed into law last February? Under the provisions of that law, there is no further appeal for murder, drug offenses, and treason. As your client has now been found guilty of treason there is no further appeal in this case.”
“Your Honor, as the court well knows treason is a serious crime under our Constitution how can a lower level court possibly have the last word on a matter of life or death?”
My face turns flush as I look at Lauren, and whisper, “Death?”
 
“Ms. Wilson,” the Judge leans forward for emphasis, “I am warning you at this juncture to watch yourself and to express your arguments very carefully. Given the unusual situation, I am going to allow some leniency in this case, but the Court’s patience is not unlimited. Now you have gotten ahead of the proceedings and sentence has not yet been passed. I strongly suggest you allow the Jury to finish its work!”
“Yes your Honor.” Lauren replied while seating herself, obviously cowed into submission by the judge’s last statement.
The Judge now looks toward the Jury Foreman, “Mr. Foreman, has the Jury passed a sentence?”
“Yes your Honor, we have.”
“Would you please read that sentence to the courtroom for the record?”
“Yes your Honor. We the Jury in the case of the United States versus Casey Goodwell unanimously find in favor of the death penalty.”
My knees betray my body and I drop toward the floor grabbing at the table for support. From the back of the room I can her Evelyn yell out, “Mommy!” The room breaks out into total mayhem as the Judge bangs the gavel over and over and over.
“Ms. Wilson, get your client under control and I will have order in this courtroom or I will clear the room! Am I understood?” Being rewarded with silence the Judge appears satisfied and I regain my footing.
“At this time, I am going to ask the members of the Jury if anyone has any objection to either the verdict or sentence. If so please speak now or forever hold your peace.”
Viewing the Jury there is absolutely utter silence and none of them would even look at me.
“Let the record reflect the Court has heard no dissenting response from any member of the Jury. Hearing nothing, Casey Goodwell, you have been justly convicted of Treason by a jury of your peers and sentenced to death as befits one guilty of the crime of treason.
I now pronounce your sentence as valid under the laws of the United States and remand you to the Federal Department of Corrections for immediate execution of your sentence as per the Federal Sedition and Treason Act statues. In particular, you will be publicly executed, before your friends and family, by hanging from a cross until you are dead. After your demise your body will be remanded to the Department of Corrections for disposal in an unspecified location and fashion. There will be no public grave or memorial for you Ms. Goodwell! May God have mercy on your immortal soul!” He says as he strikes the gavel and begins to rise.
I hear my daughters cry out, and I begin to feel woozy and unstable. Abruptly the room starts to spin and everything suddenly goes black.
 
I awake to the overpowering aroma of ammonia and open my eyes to see a young paramedic passing smelling salts beneath my nose. As I look around the room the Judge and Jury have left and a TV camera is pointed down directly at me. On other side of me are the two mammoth brutes who brought me to this hell! Suddenly I comprehend, they aren’t my guards! They’re my executioners! I yell out, “Steve! Girls! Evelyn! Julie!”
“They’re not in the courtroom anymore. Per the law they are going to follow you to the point of execution and are already outside.”
“Oh my God! This can’t be happening! It isn’t fair! You can’t be killed for free speech! Damn it they were just some leaflets! What is wrong with you people?”
At that point a sharp blow strikes my face from the back side of the driver’s hand.
“From this point on you belong to us! Any lip and you’ll get another smack. You move when we tell you to move and you stop when we tell you to stop! To keep you on you path I have a Taser stun gun and, in all honesty, I really enjoy using it! Do you understand all of this?”
“Yes!”
The stun gun slams into my stomach, with its electric charge pulsing through my stomach muscles and down my legs. I convulse and fall to the floor completely helpless. As the electric flow ceases, a warm and wet sensation grows between my legs.
“What was that prisoner?”
I manage to stammer out a very feeble, “Yes sir!”
“Much better bitch! Let me be clear, you are a condemned prisoner and we are tasked with your execution. You have no rights, you have no say and I am now your God! Understand me?”
“Yeeeh, yeeeee, yes sir!” I stutter almost in a dream like state. I can practically perceive my body floating above the scene but am rudely snapped back to reality when the guard snickers in amusement, “Damn Dale, she pissed herself! I guess we should have let her take a piss before coming into Courtroom.”
The Bailiff looks down, “Damn right! She pissed on the floor as well. I’ll get it taken care of during lunch. The Janitor can mop it up.”
“OK, let’s get her outta here! Dale you get her from the left and I’ll lift her from the right. On three we’ll lift her up, got it?”
I feel both men getting into position and tightly clutching my upper arms.
“Right, one, two, three and lift.” Suddenly I am jerked off the floor and a second later land on my feet.
“Prisoner, can you stand if we let go?”
“Yes, yes sir. I think so!”
“OK Casey, listen to me, we’re going to let go now. If you think you’re going to fall I want you to grab the table. Understand?”
“Yes, sir!”
Slowly they let go of my arms and although I am unsteady I am able to stand. This just doesn’t seem real, it just can’t be happening but it is. “Why me?” I wonder as the one called Dale moves to a position behind me with Nick to the front.
A voice whispers in my ear and I feel so helpless, I feel like a little girl again and the voice behind me reminds me of my father, “Casey, we’re going to need you to start walking now, Nick has the stun gun and he will use it if you don’t comply. These are your last few minutes of self-respect as a human being. You can walk out of here with what is left of your dignity or you can be Tased and carried out by us. The choice is yours.”
“Yes Daddy.” I hear myself saying, my head swirling as if I were in a fog. “What’s going to happen when we get outside?”
“Daddy! Damn the pigmy bitch has totally lost it, she thinks she’s a little girl again.” The mean voice from in front of me says.
I hear my father’s voice reply, “Yeah Nick, they call it regression, it happens in extreme stress situations. So we’re in authority over her and, I guess, for her authority must have been represented by her father.”
“Well listen to the genius professor! Since she thinks you’re her father do you think maybe you can get her moving?”
Softly from behind, “Let’s not worry about that yet Casey. Right now can you just walk for me like a good girl?”
“Yes Daddy.” Slowly and almost involuntarily I feel my legs begin to move forward. Slowly at first and then with a bit more speed I walk toward the courtroom door. In a minute I am in the hallway and we walk toward the bright light at the end of the hall.
My father’s voice speaks to me again, “You’re doing great Casey, just keep walking toward the light.”
The cruel voice in front of me laughs and says, “Walk toward the light! Oh man you crack me up! You can’t write comedy like that!”
“Nick, come on! Have just a little bit compassion for Christ’s sake.”
“Listen asshole, I don’t have too! That’s not what they pay me, no not me, us for! When we walk out that door, its show time and the big wigs at the highest levels of government will be watching the two of us. Don’t fuck it up! Understand me!
“Yeah! Yeah, I understand.”
“So before we go outside, how long is she going to be like this professor?”
“Shit I’m no psychologist but I suspect as soon as she’s hit with some kind stimulus she’s going to jerk out of it and then fight or flight is going to take over. I’d say be ready for her to try to make a break for it when we get outside.”
“OK, good to know. Ready? From here on out it all has to go right.”
I stand at the door looking at the light outside and the children playing in the park across the street. “Is it time to go?”
“Yes Casey, we’re going to go outside now.” And with that the doors slide open and hot air blasts into my face. The sweltering air snaps me out of my stupor. “What’s happening?”
“And the midget bitch is back! OK, cunt here it is again, Dale and I are your executioners and we are tasked with killing you today. I have a stun gun and hit you in the stomach with it just a few minutes ago do you remember that?”
I sense the dampness between my legs and remember, “Yes! Yes! OH SHIT! I do. Oh Jesus, no. No, I don’t want to die!”
“Too late for that bitch, its show time! Let’s go.”
 
The one called Nick begins to guide me out from the left and Dale from the right. The noontime sun is so bright it burns my eyes. Looking out the sally port there is a heavy set man speaking to the cameras but upon seeing me he stops, allowing the cameramen to surge to the edge of the gate.
“Where’s the van?” I ask.
“We’re not going to need that, you walk from here. Dale hold her from the back.”
Dale moves to my back and I feel him placing his arms between my elbows and my back with a leg strategically positioned between my legs. Meanwhile Nick moves to my front holding my shackled wrists. “We’re going to take your wrist restraints off now any attempt to run and I Taze you. Got it.” Unable to speak I simply shake my head in acknowledgement and feel first my left wrist and then my right wrist unshackled. As always, it feels good to have the restraints off my wrists.
“OK bitch now it’s time for your ankles, same deal any resistance and Dale here will throw you to the ground and stomp you! Got it?”
“Yes sir!” I stammer.
The one called Nick bends down to remove my ankle restraints, I think about running but Dale is too strong and there is just no way to break free from his grip. Nick moves to my side and I wonder why but realize he is moving from between the cameras and myself, “Why?” Unexpectedly Nick’s hand moves up to the zipper of my jumpsuit and yanks it down. I begin to struggle but it makes no difference, in seconds the zipper has dropped to my crotch. I can feel the sun beating down on my belly and cleavage as the harsh sunlight reaches my skin. I feel flush as sweat beads all over my body and my heart begins to race. “Oh my God, no!” I shout.
“God has nothing to do with this. From this point on you’re going to suffer degradation like you’ve never even believed are possible. You’re now an example, an object lesson, and everyone will be watching you.” He then reaches for the top of my jumpsuit gripping on both sides and pushes it toward my shoulders exposing my breasts for everyone to see. I hear a stir from the witnesses lining the fence. Almost instantly I can feel the scorching rays beating on my skin and even more sweat wells up on my breasts.
My salmon colored prison jumpsuit is pulled down my arms until it reaches to where Dale’s hands grip me. One by one he adjusts his grip until he is now clutching me just above the jumpsuit and Nick pulls it down further until it rests on my wide hips and is off my arms.
“Thank God for child bearing hips, huh?” He says.
“Oh my God where are Julie and Evelyn? Are they watching this?”
“Front and center slut, it’s part of the law. Your husband too. I wonder if he’s thinking about when he sucked on those saggy little nipples of yours. Actually, they’re a little wrinkled but I could suck on them myself. I bet I can make that left one pop out with a little tongue action, what do you say?”
“No! No!” and with that I try to shrink back into Dale and bend my shoulders in a futile attempt to cover my exposed breasts.
“Awe how cute, look at that Dale the Lilliputian’s embarrassed. Damn tramp, you have no idea what’s to come. Now kick off your shoes.”
I look down to my salmon pink prison issue canvas loafers, no laces lest I use them to hang myself. “God how I now wish I had found a way!” I pull my left foot in front of the right and using the right toe I kick the left shoe off. When I place my foot down I immediately jerk it up and scream out, “Oh God it’s hot, my foot is burning on the pavement.”
“Tuff shit, you’ll get used to it! Now, get the other shoe off!” he yells at me.
Gingerly I place my left foot down behind my right trying to gradually absorb the heat and cool the pavement off below my foot.
“OK you pint sized tart, you asked for it!” Swiftly the stun gun is thrust into my stomach and electric pulses again shoot through my body. I jerk wildly against Dale’s grip with my breasts jiggling violently for the entertainment of the onlookers and TV cameras. I hear Evelyn cry out, “Mommy! Mommy! Stop hurting my Mommy” My heart is racing and I feel like it might explode out of my chest. My body is now totally bathed in sweat from both the beating sun and the Tasing. I want to run but my legs totally fail me and I go limp after the current stops.
“Does that electric shock feel like your first orgasm? Hum? I’ll bet you had multiple orgasms didn’t you? Steve over there looks like he’s quite the stud! I’ll bet he has a huge cock that fills your little pussy. Sure, yeah I can see it, he’s definitely a stud! He’ll be fucking some divorced soccer mom a few weeks after your putrefying on the cross.”
“My God, you’re a prick!” I try to scream but it comes out as a screech.
Abruptly the stun gun lands on my stomach and again I jerk viciously with my quivering breasts on display for the world to see. Afterwards I slump into Dale totally unable to move.
Dale do you think you can kick off her shoe?” Nick queries.
“Yeah I got it.” I feel Dale’s boot come up to the back of my right heel and begin to push down as his knee pushes my right knee forward. Gradually my shoe comes off and is kicked to the side of the pavement. My foot lands on the spot where my shoes where on the pavement so it is hot but at least it’s somewhat tolerable.
“OK let’s get the jumpsuit off.” With a rapid motion Nick reaches for the jumpsuit at my hips and jerks downward. I sense it pull off my hips, down my thighs, then past my knees dropping speedily down to my ankles. “Now lift her a bit and I’ll get it off her feet.” With that I feel a lifting sensation and the jumpsuit falls away from my feet with Nick kicking it to the side. Now all I am wearing is a torn, faded and stretched out pair of white bikini panties the jail issued me and never fit right. Nick looks between my legs and can see my red pubic hair curl up on my upper thigh and a few strawberry blondish hairs protruding through the cotton panties. “Damn you’ve got a hairy fire crotch! Guess they don’t let you wax in the cell block?”
Once again embarrassed I try to cross my legs but to no avail.
Dale speaks up, “Nick given that she’s walking through town let’s let her keep the panties on.”
Nick snickers, “You’re getting weak in your old age my man but yeah, that’s fine. Hell the sweat and piss in the crotch will cause her to rash on the way. So really you’ll just be adding to her suffering and that’s fine by me!”
 
I just can’t believe this is happening! My mind wants to be somewhere, anywhere, else! Gradually I feel strength returning to my arms and legs, when Nick speaks again, “Time for you to carry your cross princess.” He walks over to the courthouse wall picking up a large yellowish board with straps near each end. “This isn’t the board we’re going to nail you too. No, I doubt you could carry that, but this will work fine to get you down to the waterfront.”
Nick places the board behind my neck and over my shoulders, and then Dale lets go of my right arm instead pinning my left arm around my belly. I realize my right arm is free and try to keep Nick from grabbing it until he says, “Do I need to use the stun gun again?” Reluctantly, I let the arm go limp as Nick grabs it pulling it up to the straps. He then secures the straps around my right wrist. The same thing is promptly done to my left arm and now I am completely secured to the beam.
The sun beating down on my pale skin is already starting to burn it. My upper chest displays a slight reddish hue as sweat profusely rolls down my chest. The perspiration then flows in little streams down my breast gradually coalescing on my nipples and dripping off. I realize I’m thirsty and my mouth is already beginning to feel parched.
Dale whispers in my ear, “Casey, I’m going to let you go. I need you to stand up. Understand me.”
“Yes sir.” I reply and Dale slowly releases his grip on me.
As I stand, the weight of the board falls heavily on my shoulders and as I straighten my back the board pulls at my extended arms shoving its sharp edge against my upper back, digging into my upper spine and neck. The pain isn’t unbearable but it is persistent and, I’m sure, that a token of what is coming.
“OK, she looks stable, let’s get this shit show moving. It’s about twelve-thirty I think we can get her on display by two or two thirty at the latest.” Nick gives a signal to the Sheriff’s Officer and the gate opens in front of me.
“Walk!” is the simple command that Nick gives me and I take my first tentative step onto the burning pavement. I try to pull my foot up but Nick screams, “Move it you little runt!”
As I continue to move forward toward the gate, I half walk and half hop on the searing pavement. When going through the gate I pass Steve and the girls, Steve has tears dripping down his cheeks and they are quaking. Evelyn sobs lightly, while Julie says, “I love you mom!”
The camera is now in my face, as I look at my family and sob, “I love you all. I’m so sorry you have to see this!”
Nick snarls, “Touching now keep moving whore!”
 
I half walk and half hop forward turning right onto Ribaut Road, in the general direction of downtown and the waterfront. Nick was right, my cotton panties have become sodden with sweat and urine, hanging down heavily from my hips. A nasty rash is starting due to the chafing between my upper thighs but there is absolutely nothing I can do about it with my arms strapped.
Sweat from my forehead trickles down burning my eyes and causing me to blink to flush it out. I try to march on with my eyes half opened and half closed due to the burning and the intense southern sun’s brilliance.
About forty-five minutes later we reach North Street, turning left onto it. The pavement continues to scorch my tortured feet but at least this street has some live oaks providing some slight shade. While the shade doesn’t cut the humidity it does diminish the pavement’s heat to a more endurable level. My body is completely bathed in moisture and my once creamy white skin has reddened and splotched.
The rash between my thighs is more swollen causing me to try to walk with my legs spread apart. It doesn’t work and the acid from the urine mixed sweat is irritating and festering on my upper thighs. My now sodden panties ride even lower than before on my crotch further aggravating that sensitive part of my body.
I am amazed how at every house and block there are scores watching my suffering and embarrassment, but the camera truck is absolutely the worst streaming my misery and humiliation on both the cable networks and internet. Nick gleefully informs me that hundreds of millions are watching, and I can’t help but believe him, as who wouldn’t view the government’s spectacle? That is, of course, the entire point of this exercise, ratings! Steve and girls are forced to follow a few paces behind and hearing the girls’ sobs rip straight into my heart, but that is also part of the show isn’t it?
 
About one-thirty p.m. we reach Bay Street, my breathing has become extremely heavy and my legs are cramping and unsteady. I skew toward the right shoulder, to get under the cover of some live oaks and to a place where I can better see the Beaufort River from the bluff.
“Wrong answer you fucking tart!” Nick’s stun gun hits me in the right butt cheek and I instantly drop to the ground on my back. I writhe in pain, abasing my sunburned back and roll around on my hips. “Get up bitch!” he yells and I try to get up but instead fall forward onto my belly further smearing dirt over my body. My once faded white cotton panties have taken on a grayish hue from the perspiration, urine and soil staining them. With some help, I slowly push myself up grasping for breath.
Dale walks up with a bottle of water “Nick, we have to give her some water or she isn’t going to make it. She’s struggling now and there’s still about mile to go. Jeez, push her much further and I think she dies of heat stroke before we make it. If that happens where is the show then?”
“Yeah, yeah professor, you’re right. OK give her the water and let’s take five under the trees. Damn son, to tell you the truth, I’m burning up myself.”
Dale comes over to me with the water lifting it to my lips. A part of me wants to die right here and just not drink the water but I’m so damned thirsty I rapaciously guzzle it down. After I drain the bottle he yells out to a Sheriff’s Deputy, “Hey Shawn, please get her another one, would you?” Then he looks at me and says, “Go ahead and lean against the tree. We’ll rest for a bit, believe me it is just going to get harder from here.”
I appreciate this small act of kindness from a man who is about to kill me, “At least the road is downhill to the marina and there is some shade.” I say, “Dale, you’re not like him, how did you get involved in this?”
“Well not that it’s any of your business but after the war there weren’t many opportunities for a grunt. Not a lot of demand for a guy who can throw a hand grenade thirty yards or bust down a door, except, of course, in law enforcement. After six years of active duty was just easier to take a federal position and save some of my military time for retirement. It’s as simple as that.”
“And executing me?” I inquire.
“Let me be clear about something here, nobody ordered you to hand out those leaflets! I’m sorry you got caught up in all of this but you broke the law and my job is to carry out your sentence. That I will do, now let’s get more water in you, we have about 45 more minutes of walking to go.” He lifts the second bottle to my blistered lips and when it’s drained he yells to Nick, “She’s ready, we need to get going!”
 
We continue to walk down Bay Street for about a half hour with my tortured feet bloodied, blistered and shredded open. Every step brings a new horror to the soles of my feet and toes, but I have no choice but to endure it.
I didn’t realize just how dehydrated I had become in the seaming eternity since we left the courthouse. Before we stopped my perspiration had almost ceased but now fresh rivulets of moisture stream down my body mixing with the new sand and dirt forming a sort of mud. The worst is my cunt and inner thighs where the sand and fluids on my panty’s crotch now feel like sandpaper further ripping up my soft inner thighs and outer lips.
My panties are now so heavy with sweat and dirt, they slide down to display my butt crack. I ask Dale to pull them up but he just keeps on walking as though he can’t hear me. The beam has now carved deeply into my neck, pressing painfully against the vertebrae just below my shoulders. The vilest of all these disgraces is the men eagerly ogling my breasts as they wobble and jiggle with every tentative step.
As we begin to go through town the road starts to slope uphill and the sun blazes on my scorched skin. Finally, we turn right onto West Street and before me is a short, narrow, palm lined, red brick path leading down to the Waterfront Park. To my left is the candy store where Steve and I spent so much wonderful time with the girls and before me the large open field were we loved to play Frisbee. I step down the three white tabby steps into the Park and I stop abruptly when I see a terrifying black pole standing upright in the field.
 
Nick leans in to whisper in my ear, “You’re a bit late but I think everyone enjoyed the show princess. Keep walking its not far now.” I step forward reaching the grassy field and the short manicured grass’s softness is a blessing to my bloody and ravaged feet. The aroma of freshly mowed grass wafts heavily in the humid afternoon air. I look up toward the sky but barely a cloud is to be seen with just some wispy cirrus clouds floating overhead. Behind me there is a distant rumble of thunder, and I realize the sea breeze has already pushed the afternoon thunderstorms west toward Ridgeland. If the storms continue to track west the rain and clouds won’t ease my suffering.
To my left, the Lady’s Island Bridge hums from the sound of car tires rolling over the grating and the play park, where Evelyn loves the swings, is filled with children playing. To my right is the Municipal Marina where Steve and I had spent so many happy hours on our sailboat and also the pavilion were Steve proposed to me. “Life was so good! Why did I do this? Why am I here? How many happy hours did we swing on the bench swings watching the river? Why do they have to kill me here? Could they have found a worse place to destroy my family?”
The pole, a few yards ahead of me, now grabs all of my attention. It is about seven feet tall and stands vertically from the ground. About a foot wide with a narrower tip carved into its’ top. In front of the pole is an equally dreadful blackish beam about twice the size of the one currently on my shoulders. The beam has a hole in the middle and two eye hooks at what looks like the top. I realize that this is the instrument of my death and the beam’s notch would fit neatly into the tip.
Behind it is a forklift, which I puzzle over, but it really doesn’t matter.
Nick walks over to me, “These are the last steps you are ever going to take on this Earth bitch. It’s time for your nailing. Let me tell you something, all of the pain you’ve suffered so far is nothing compared to what I am about to inflict on you.”
I stand helpless as the crowd swells in from the streets. Its then when I notice the park is ringed with cameras. Nick perceives my observing them, “Oh the cameras, you’re just going to love this!” he says with an evil glee, “they’re low light cameras that are going to feed the internet and networks from every angle possible and all night. People all around the world are going to watch you even into the darkness and the best is we don’t have to add too many extra lights. If you think you feel hopeless now wait until 3 a.m. when you’re almost completely alone in the dark! But don’t worry because even then millions of people will be watching you. They say your death will be the most viewed death in history. Think of that you’re going to be immortal for the misery and absolute humiliation of your demise! And the best is I get to make it happen!”
I didn’t think I had enough moisture left in my body but I break out into a soft sobbing!
 
As the camera man moves between the pole and myself, Nick snarls, “You’re not going to need these anymore princess.” His right hand reaches out to the side of my panties and he begins pulling them down ripping them off my waist and down to my ankles. Now my ass is exposed to the crowd with cellulite dimpling my butt cheeks but the worst is the camera zooming into my crotch with my flaming red pubic hair exposed for the world on TV and Internet.
Nick snickers to my husband, “Steve, my man! Damn she’s hairy son! Bet you loved getting into that fire crotch! Red in the head good in bed, am I right? Come on man want to do something about it?” He says challenging Steve.
All I can think of was to scream with all the breath I had left, “Steve, I love you! Remember the girls! He’s not worth it!”
Dale walks over, “OK Nick, leave the family alone and let’s get this done. I’m hot and I need a beer.”
“I’m with you brother, each of us will grab an arm and unstrap her. Be careful though she’s slick from perspiration so don’t lose your grip.”
“Actually, lets hose her off, it will make for a better show if she’s cleaner right?” Dale strolls over to a hose and begins to spray me down. The hard stream of the water hurts my burned skin but the coolness and the cleaning of sweat and dirt relieves me and is a bit reviving.
After the hosing down they unstrap my arms from the shoulder beam and let it fall to the ground by my heels. Suddenly I feel like a burden has been lifted from my body and relax a just little but unexpectedly I find myself flying through the air hitting the ground solidly on my back. The blow knocks the wind out of me and before I can recover they are upon me.
Looking up I see Dale reaching down to grab my right wrist with Nick doing the same with my left. Swiftly they drag me over to the larger cross beam with my ass bouncing and rolling along the ground exposing my cunt for all to see. They lay me on the ground with the top of my head rubbing against the wooden beam and pull my arms slightly over my head and across the front of the beam. I hear the sound of Velcro as I try to turn my head to see what is happening.
My right fingers are pulled back and secured to the beam with the Velcro. Then more Velcro straps are pulled out of Dale’s pocket and my wrist and forearm are secured to the beam so the back of my hand is firmly against the wood and immobilized.
Nick hastily and capably does the same to my left arm.
After my arms are secured I try to look up toward my family. As I do I can see my breasts and nipples bared for everyone as well as the slight mound of fat around my belly. Instead I stare up at Dale, “Dale, no please! Please don’t do this! It’s not too late!” as I plead for my life.
Dale laughs, “Casey, what makes you think I don’t want to do this? Actually, I’m going to nail you first.”
 
Got it, thanks for fixing. Any chance you could remove the PDF from the previous string/work?
 
Sexitus Bacilus said:
As the camera man moves between the pole and myself, Nick snarls, “You’re not going to need these anymore princess.” His right hand reaches out to the side of my panties and he begins pulling them down ripping them off my waist and down to my ankles. Now my ass is exposed to the crowd with cellulite dimpling my butt cheeks but the worst is the camera zooming into my crotch with my flaming red pubic hair exposed for the world on TV and Internet.
Nick snickers to my husband, “Steve, my man! Damn she’s hairy son! Bet you loved getting into that fire crotch! Red in the head good in bed, am I right? Come on man want to do something about it?” He says challenging Steve.
All I can think of was to scream with all the breath I had left, “Steve, I love you! Remember the girls! He’s not worth it!”
Dale walks over, “OK Nick, leave the family alone and let’s get this done. I’m hot and I need a beer.”
“I’m with you brother, each of us will grab an arm and unstrap her. Be careful though she’s slick from perspiration so don’t lose your grip.”
“Actually, lets hose her off, it will make for a better show if she’s cleaner right?” Dale strolls over to a hose and begins to spray me down. The hard stream of the water hurts my burned skin but the coolness and the cleaning of sweat and dirt relieves me and is a bit reviving.
After the hosing down they unstrap my arms from the shoulder beam and let it fall to the ground by my heels. Suddenly I feel like a burden has been lifted from my body and relax a just little but unexpectedly I find myself flying through the air hitting the ground solidly on my back. The blow knocks the wind out of me and before I can recover they are upon me.
Looking up I see Dale reaching down to grab my right wrist with Nick doing the same with my left. Swiftly they drag me over to the larger cross beam with my ass bouncing and rolling along the ground exposing my cunt for all to see. They lay me on the ground with the top of my head rubbing against the wooden beam and pull my arms slightly over my head and across the front of the beam. I hear the sound of Velcro as I try to turn my head to see what is happening.
My right fingers are pulled back and secured to the beam with the Velcro. Then more Velcro straps are pulled out of Dale’s pocket and my wrist and forearm are secured to the beam so the back of my hand is firmly against the wood and immobilized.
Nick hastily and capably does the same to my left arm.
After my arms are secured I try to look up toward my family. As I do I can see my breasts and nipples bared for everyone as well as the slight mound of fat around my belly. Instead I stare up at Dale, “Dale, no please! Please don’t do this! It’s not too late!” as I plead for my life.
Dale laughs, “Casey, what makes you think I don’t want to do this? Actually, I’m going to nail you first.”
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Loving the story so far and can't wait for more. And thanks for the references to her hairy crotch. Love to imagine all victims of crucifixion are unshaved - even their underarms.
 
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