JUDITH
View attachment 1266055View attachment 1266056
Welcome, Judith, finally you have reached the hill of honour!
How are you? You look so tired.
Hey Princess, they've torn your dress. Hey Judith, your face is a mess.
And how thirsty you must be! On your long march you have got no drink at all. Except the cum from some generous spenders during the short breaks on your way.
We planned to welcome you by a court of noblewomen. But we only could find two common whores. They had stolen money from their customers. Caught in the act in a tavern.
They are already here for three hours. Wistfully waiting for you while riding on their cornua.
We fed them frequently to keep them in vivid conditions. With the help of sponges on a spearhead. Sponges soaked with wine. Well, more vinegar than wine. But mixed with lots of myrrh. How avidly they sucked the sponges dry! You know the effects of myrrh?
It turns even a crucified girl into a horny bitch...
Look at their legs! How wet they are. In the end we had stuffed the sponges into their cunts. Now the precious fluid is leaking down their thighs. It's mingling with other juices and fragrances... some sweat and blood, some cum from inside their cunts from countless rapists and some pee from their overfull bladders.
It's pouring down their thighs and even further. Dripping from their feet into the soil. Uselessly...
You could quench your thirst so easily!
If you are hesitant, we could encourage you with the help of the flagellum or the tip of the spears or the branding iron. But we are sure your throat is such dry and there is no need for that.
Start at their toes. Lick and suck. They are so eagerly waiting for your lips. Waiting for your tongue. Slowly... Then go upstream. Slowly... To the swollen nailing wounds in their feet... To their slender ankles... The lower legs... Knees... The shapely thighs... Take your time... Finally you reach the spring. The source of your refreshment. The dripping sponges in their orifices. You will carefully pull them out by your teeth. Then, with your lips and tongue, you will give your mates what they are awaiting so desperately...
Surely you will finish this job satifactorily.
Then, finally, you deserve to climb your own throne of wood.
*************************************************************************
The writhing and moaning of the crucified girls had weakened and the last onlookers had disbanded.
A young soldier sat at the base of the crosses. He prepared a roasted leg of lamb for a makeshift dinner. With the help of an old, rusty knife he deftly detached the flesh from the bone.
He throw the bare bone away and with some kind of accurateness he assorted the pieces of meat on a plate of bronze.
"Hey soldier, how are you?"
The young man turned his head in surprise and stared at the slender figure of a young girl leaning on an almond tree. In the dim light of the pale moon had not noticed her presence till then. There was something noble in her appearance that made him insecure.
"What's your name?" she asked. "Were do you come from?"
angemessen
"Narraboth", he stammered, "from Syria."
"You are the guard in duty? May I join you? You are lonesome. And it seems you have no appropriate drink beside your dish."
From an ornated bag she produced an artful bottle of Egyptian glass, removed the plug and took a sip. Her small, triangle-shaped face wore an expression of delight.
"This wine comes from Sicily. Thousandfold better than the dishwater you gave to those girls."
For a moment her smile turned to a smirk.
"But it has at least the same amount of myrrh! Would you like to share my drink?"
************************************************************************
"Oh, how the time flies! We've emptied the bottle completely! Now we have mutual trust and each other's confidence."
They lay on the ground like picnickers. The girl had put off her golden sandals. Her delicate bare foot approached the metal plate of bronze. With a lascivious kick she wiped off the remains of the meal from the plate. Then she run her tiny toes with caution over the jagged blade of the knife that lay beside the plate.
"Look, Narraboth, women sometimes are strange. Their feelings are strange. Their desires are strange."
Her eyes had an iridescent shimmer.
"I'm going to tell you a little secret."
Her view turned away from the young soldier und upwards to the three crosses and to the crucified girls.
"I think I'm in love with that girl in the middle.
From the first time I saw her.
I guess her name is Judith. I watched her all the time, starting at the courtyard where they gave her the purple coat of royalty.
Somehow I feel like a sister to her...
Yes, I'm sure I'm in love with her. Passionately.
Oh, how much I would like to kiss her! To kiss her lips. Even more that tiny pearl of pleasure between her lips. It's like a pearl in an oyster. So delicious! I will kiss it.
But it's so high above. I can't reach it.
But I will kiss it!
Narraboth, bring that little pearl to me!
Bring it to me on your plate of bronze!
Then I can kiss that precious gem.
It will mean so much to me.
You will do this thing for me, Narraboth.
You know that you will do this thing for me.
Narraboth, you know I always get what I want.
You know you will bring it to me.
Then I will dance for you, Narraboth.
Yes, I will dance. Only for you."
A nearly casual gesture of her hand revealed a small part of her thigh. The bare strip of skin gleamed like ivory between the pleats of muslin.
"And you should know I'm famous for my dance of veils..."
Inspired by Oscar Wilde and David Bowie.
https://ia800904.us.archive.org/18/items/salometragedyino00wildrich/salometragedyino00wildrich.pdf
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U16Xg_rQZkA
