Thanks gentlemen, and Bob I thought you'd appreciate that manip.
Thanks. I went for the wide angle on this one, the follow up pic is tighter, cropped like your version. (Unfortunately my sig is lost from your cropped version)
How will I ever endure what is yet to come? Why can't I just die now. For how long must I endure this?
Sorry Barb, you will have to take a deep breath and put up with it, see following chapter:
ps this is not quite the end
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The crowd had listened keenly when Barb was nailed, they had cheered when she was raised on her cross. They watched every movement carefully for the first half an hour, laughing as she struggled, oohing and ahing as she stretched and wriggled in most delightful ways. For Barb it was all about a desperate search for relief from pain, a struggle against gravity and her own trapped body, fighting for breath, enduring the sun and the particles of dirt hurled at her naked body by random gusts of wind.
It was a struggle both physical and mental. Barb needed the strength of mind to keep going, she knew she would get no food or water so she had to preserve her strength, but every minute sapped her energy and her will. There was nothing she could do. She couldn't escape, and she couldn't even die. Several times she tried to stop breathing but her body forced her on, the will to live was involuntary. It was a fiendish torture, she was trapped between unending agony and the animal need to survive.
The sun was hot and unrelenting, but Barb had drunk well that morning, knowing she would need water to survive. As the morning went on she felt growing pressure on her bladder, and she lacked the strength to resist. She had been raped and nailed in front of this crowd, she had bled and screamed for them. Now a final indignity, Barb opened her thighs and released a stream onto the ground at the foot of her cross. She could fall no further, and the relief she felt was the one small moment of comfort she had experienced all morning. The crowd loved it, mocking and shouting lewd comments, but Barb had gone beyond caring about such things.
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Their interest was soon captured by fierce gladiatorial combat, men fighting and dying around the crosses that held Barb and Nubia. It was sureal, that her death was so distant, so hard to find, while it was so abundant all around her. Their pain, their blood was a fleeting thing, hers was never ending.
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Barb endured all this, and more, but she grew ever more weak and her head sagged more as the day went on. She became insensitive to her surroundings and her movement grew feeble. Late that day, without water, with loss of blood, and lack of will, the lady Barbria Moria breathed her last.
he took his boat and sailed away as far as possible.
