Barb was exhausted by the brutal whipping. Primus Pilus was disappointed that he could use not his favorite bullwhip on Barb. But Barb thought the thirty lashed to her front with thirty lashes to her back and the flogger to her breasts that preceded the whips was anything but merciful. Her forearms were bound crossed behind her back and she was led from the whipping station over the ‘L’ shaped catwalk to the main stage where her cross was waiting for. Crews from the museum began disassembling and clearing the elevated walk even before she reached the main stage. Sir Despard Wragg met again with the mysterious Mr. Wu and he nodded and accepted another fat envelope from him. As he walked up the stairs to the whipping stage he slipped a thick handful of US hundred dollar bills from the envelope and pocketed them before handing the envelope to Primus and said “Mr. Wu would you like to do him a small favor.”
Sir Wragg whispered what it was and Primus snatched the envelope from Despard’s hand and laughed “I would enjoy that very much. This is hardly necessary but appreciated!”
What does all this mean?
Barb had arrived at the main stage and was ordered to kneel. Joan Tree pulled her hair into a bun explaining “They want to see your face, Barbara.”
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“May I have some wine” Barb asked.
“No, and it is time for your cross. Barb, if you don’t do exactly as you are told twelve hours become 24. Do you understand?”
All too well I understand. They make the rules and change they them at will! A short set of stairs are placed against the stipe and I climb them and place my back against the stipe. I spread my arms and thick but soft ropes bind my wrists to the cross. I am told to bend my knees and one foot then the other is bound to the cross. It is less than comfortable but not as bad a being whipped. The red stripes have all but disappeared though the pain has not left my body or my mind. I hang limp from the wood. Didn’t the cowboy tell me to save energy?
After a while ‘uncomfortable’ becomes a swelling ache in my shoulders. The crowd below me seems bored as they crowd the bars. ‘Good’ I think. It’s not my job to please them!
After a while- don’t ask me how long- my shoulders have gone from a dull ache to a fiery burn! I push up with my legs. It helps some…
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They seemed to enjoy it…
Barb
Tree
(with thanks to SeD and obviously Makar... What, Ulrika??? Oh, yes, and Barb...)