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A Day In The Arena

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thehangingtree said:
This comfort you seek will not spare you from the trials of the Great Slave Rebellion.

A day in the Arena is a picnic for what you have caused....

Tree
Click to expand...

Of course any fool knows that...then again, I'm not any fool...
 
thehangingtree said:
...Tree is not sure he understands that, Siss, but he understands he doesn't understand...

Tree
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Tree!
There is still hope for you, yet.

PmS: have you! ever seen the rain ... coming down? ... on a sunny day?
 
This is a re-post of Part VII which inadvertently was posted in bright white text. Apologies to readers who use white screens.​
Barbaria​
A DAY IN THE ARENA​

Part VII. Waiting for the Dawn​

Siss and I have been thrown into a holding cell beneath the floor of the arena. It’s well past midnight; the light of dawn is not far off. We huddle together to fend off the night chill. The cell is only dimly lit from a single burning torch high on the wall. Others huddle together elsewhere in the cell, but we are essentially alone in our small corner. Above us we can hear the sounds of scraping and hammering as crews assemble the hundreds of timber crosses and erect the scourging posts needed for the morning’s mass public crucifixion.

We sit quietly in our corner; our arms wrapped around each other. We reflect on the many horrors – the pain and suffering, the humiliations – we have endured together over the past 24 hours, and especially of the profound love that has grown so strongly between us in such a remarkably short time.
At the same time, to keep from thinking of anything other than the horrific things the day ahead has in store for us. Not just, that we were going to be crucified naked in front of tens of thousands of people, but not knowing what other barbarous torments our executioners will bestow upon us for the entertainment of the Emperor and the other onlookers.

I know that Siss is thinking the same things as I, and that no words of encouragement could ever change the fact that in just a few short hours we – the two of us – are going to die a slow and unspeakably agonizing death.

I raise my hand and gently brush Siss’ golden hair behind her left ear. She turns and looks into my eyes with a lost hollow look and whispers, “We can’t go to sleep, Barbaria. Promise me, we will stay awake all night! One of us can’t let the other fall asleep.”

It is obvious that Siss had been giving this a lot of thought, and is fighting to control some part of the situation even if it is only how quickly we might die. By staying awake until dawn she is willing the hours to pass slowly; and perhaps for exhaustion to take us quickly once we are nailed to our crosses.

I hold her tight and kiss her cheek. I can hear her shallow breathing; I can feel the measured beating of her heart. She stirs, letting out long relaxed sigh, and kisses me lovingly, thoughtfully. In each other’s arms, we lose all fear, at least for the moment.

The minutes pass. Siss lifts her head from my shoulder and asks, “What do you think they will do to us … I know they will not leave us alone, they will never do that, I’ve seen, I know ….”

I have seen too. We have both seen what happens at a Roman crucifixion. We have seen slaves put on the cross, and have witnessed the tortured bodies of criminals, thieves and traitors hanging from crosses along the roads approaching the city. But neither of have ever seen such a mass crucifixion – such a public spectacle – as that which will take place here in the arena on the morrow.

I try to imagine the scene for her. I tell her, “The place will be jammed with people, people who will have come just to see us suffer and die. And those who will be executed are likely to number in the hundreds. They are all around us in these cells waiting, like us, for what the morning will bring. It will be pitilessly cruel and brutal. They will want to make a spectacle of us; we will be tormented mercilessly before they put us on the cross purely for the enjoyment of the crowds, and any kind of fiendish torture is possible. We must be brave, Siss, ever so brave! And we must stick together! Don’t let them separate us no matter what. We will face our fate proudly, draw strength and courage from each other; and, if we do, our love will soar above everything, uniting us forever.”

"Brave words -- somehow even comforting words", I think, as Siss looks into my eyes, draws her head close to mine and kisses me softly, gently, but longingly on the lips.

We embrace. Our lovemaking begins slowly, delicately, softly this time… not with the wild urgency and reckless, breathless abandon of the first time.
I reach out and turn Siss’ head toward mine. Brush her hair away from her teary eyes and then gently begin to kiss her tears away from around her eyes and from her cheeks.

Our mouths meet in a renewed gentle kiss; I work my lips around, pulling gently at her upper lip, then her lower. Then I kiss her full on the mouth. I kiss her cheek again and begin moving, ever so slowly and lovingly down her neck – little pecking and nibbling kisses.

Then down on to her breasts, first one then the other, back and forth. She responds by arching her back, pushing her breasts toward my hot mouth. I circle her erect eager nipples with my tongue.

Her fingers touch my belly, lightly and ever so slowly they slip lower – so delicate a touch that it sends a shiver up my spine.

We lay on the cold damp floor, on our sides, facing each other. Gently and ever so slowly caressing each other’s punished bodies. Her fingers trace the edges of my ever so moist lips. I peck at her neck and carefully roll her nipples between my fingers. A calm, a peace, a bliss … we are lost in the delight of our oneness. There is no pain or horror, just soothing rivers of slowly building magic.

The sounds from above and the others around us have been removed from our minds. Nothing exists for us but this moment of sweet pleasure. So in tune, so truly together, we are invisible.

We have magically vanished from this horrible place and are resting on a lakeside. The sun warms our naked skin and the birds sing us their love songs. Both of us flowing like the mountain streams in to the vastness of the glistening lake.

Holding my face in her hands, kissing me gently, Siss utters the most beautiful words I have ever heard:

“Older than me, but as young as the sweetest fairy tale Princess. A prize that speaks wonders. You do not scare me anymore. You pull me in and surround me. I am open and thirsty. A flowing thirst of unknown wonders. I do not fear the unknown. It is only another step for our love to grow. As alone as we are, we share this moment together. It will always be our love that will hold me close to you. I will never let go!”
 
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Barbaria1 said:
This is a re-post of Part VII which inadvertently was posted in bright white text. Apologies to readers who use white screens.
​
Click to expand...


thanks Barbaria - the best way to avoid this tiresome problem is this:
when you paste text into a reply box, use your cursor to 'select all',
then click on Tx at top right.
That will set the formatting back to the default setting,
which users can see on Blackend or Default.

(You may find you have to tweak headings etc after doing that)

I've done that with your original post,
but see now you've done a version in a colour that's readable on both backgrounds.

PS to readers -
if somebody does put up a post you cant read,
use your cursor to highlight the whole box,
that nearly always shows the text up -
otherwise click 'Blackend' or 'Default' at bottom left of your screen
and switch to the other background.​
 
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Thanks Eul ! :)
 
...you will not get the comfort of the whip before your crucifixion if I have anything to say about it...

T
 
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